Fic: Blow Your Mongrel Mind (Teen Wolf [TV show], Scott/Stiles)
I am almost done with my hiatus from LJ/DW, but I wanted to post this before it gets jossed tomorrow night. This is 150-200% my new fandom. There might be picspam later.
Title: Blow Your Mongrel Mind
Fandom: Teen Wolf (2011 TV series)
Pairing: Scott/Stiles
Rating: NC-17; see warnings.
Warnings/Enticements: Sex between two 16-year-old boys, including some pain play.
Summary: Scott's special wolf dick powers are messing with Stiles's head.
Word count: about 2,100.
Disclaimers: Teen Wolf is the intellectual property of MTV. This original work of fan fiction is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License; attribution should include a link to this post. This story is a labor of love, not money, so it's protected in the USA by the fair use provisions of the Copyright Act of 1976.
Notes: Thanks to gone_shaughraun for beta reading and paying child support on her fanfic crackbaby. This fills the "biting/bruising" square on my kink_bingo card. The title is from "Wolf Like Me" by TV on the Radio.
*
Stiles was in math class with a precautionary notebook in his lap, wondering whether Scott's dick changed when he turned into a werewolf. Whether he got some kind of giant superpowered wolf dick. It seemed like a reasonable question, much more relevant than "What is the cosine of pi over six?" He was trying to think of a "no homo, just curious" way to bring it up in conversation, because otherwise he was going to keep wondering.
And keep picturing it, Scott with his yellow wolf eyes and sharp wolf claws, pouncing on Stiles, tearing his teeth into Stiles's neck. That was the fantasy Stiles had jerked off to the night before. He wasn't proud. He'd kept a picture of a hot naked blonde girl straddling a car on his computer screen the whole time, so if anyone walked in on him, he could at least claim to be whacking off to something normal.
Normally, blondes with big tits were what did it for him. That had been the exact topic of conversation the one time, sleeping over at Scott's when they were twelve, when they'd jerked off side by side. This whole whip-out-your-wolf-dick, bite-me-and-make-me-part-of-your-pack thing, this was new, and Stiles hoped Scott would learn to control it like he was learning to control his other powers. Stiles fully supported other people's right to be gay for their best friends, but he didn't want it for himself. What he wanted for himself was a girl who was as into him as Allison was into Scott, who hung on his words and forgave his bottomless dumbassedness, who made a hero out of him.
Since he'd failed to absorb any of the secrets of the mighty cosine during class, Stiles went to Scott's after lacrosse practice so they could do their homework together. It was not his brightest idea ever, since they were on problem #3 and all Stiles's brain could put together was wolf dick wolf dick wolf dick. "You okay?" Scott asked, probably to get Stiles to stop aggressively drumming his pencil against the pages of his math textbook.
Wolf dick. "Yeah. Just sore from lacrosse." Danny had accidentally-on-purpose body-checked Stiles during drills, and Stiles had a big bruise darkening his left side.
"I wish I had your problems." Scott sighed like he did when he was going to launch into a whine about how awful it was to be cursed with amazing superpowers.
"New lycanthropic development?" Mostly, Stiles just liked saying lycanthropy.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Yeah, you do," Stiles said. "You're desperate to talk about it."
"Okay, maybe. But it's embarrassing."
Not as embarrassing as fantasizing about your wolf dick. "You've just got to resist the urge to stop at every fire hydrant. I know it's hard, but you can do it."
Scott laughed dismissively. "God, don't even say hard. Seriously, for everything lately. Girls, guys - Mrs. Voss's poodle - "
"Poodles."
"Boy poodles."
"Oh." Stiles leaves a moment for it all to sink in. "It'll pass. I mean, it's got to pass."
"It's not gonna pass," Scott said. "None of it's gonna pass."
Stiles knew it was selfish of him, but all he could think was, as long as he and Scott were friends, he would never be able to stop thinking of wolf dick. And what he was getting from Scott, in Scott's understated way, was that the problem was mutual. Dropping Scott's friendship wasn't an option: you don't abandon the one guy who's had your back since kindergarten. His recent attempt at the silent treatment had lasted all of ten minutes. So Stiles chose the only other path available to him. He wet his lips, closed his eyes, and kissed his best friend.
They kissed like Stiles always wished girls would kiss him, so forceful it hurt, bruising his elbows on Scott's bedroom floor. Stiles's dick was raging. He could kiss until he came. He licked Scott's teeth, which were blunt and human, a long way from the full moon. Scott clutched Stiles's arms, holding him down. If Scott was red-lining as bad as he said he was, Stiles knew he could use some relief. Stiles provided it, first rubbing Scott's dick through his pants, then unzipping him to find a regular human penis. No wolf dick, just his scared, horny friend.
Scott kept kissing Stiles while Stiles pumped his dick. He ran his hands up Stiles's chest, pushing Stiles's shirt up under his armpits. Scott came in Stiles's hand and on his bare stomach. With a sort of nonchalant affection, Scott grabbed a tissue from the box on top of the dresser and wiped Stiles off. Then, with the same loving calm, he took Stiles's dick out and stroked him home.
There was a minute while Stiles was fixing his shirt and zipping his fly when he thought they might talk this over, but instead they just did their math homework. When they'd finished, Stiles threw his bag over his shoulder, getting ready to leave. Scott stopped him and kissed him again. Stiles ran home, out of breath and early for dinner.
"Rough day at practice?" Stiles's dad said halfway through the meal. "It looks like you really banged up your arms."
Stiles repeated the story about Danny knocking him down, but when he was excused from the table, he locked himself in the bathroom to see what his dad was talking about. He traced the finger-shaped bruises on his biceps. Scott didn't know his own strength.
At school the next day, Stiles pretended his friendship with Scott was the same as always, and Scott played along. By lunchtime, Stiles had begun to wonder whether anything had actually changed, but some kid elbowed him in line and his sore arm made him relive that kiss.
But there was no good time to say anything. There were people around. There was Allison, and it was pretty clear the crazy wolf dick mojo was working on her, too. Not that Stiles thought that was the only explanation. Scott deserved to have beautiful girls be into him, even if they inevitably would stomp his heart into tiny pieces.
Stiles waved Scott into the bleachers after lacrosse practice while everyone else hit the locker room. Allison was waiting there too, though, and Stiles knew she was the obvious choice. People could talk all day about putting bros before hos, but a pretty girl was like an alien mind wipe, erasing all logic and common sense.
To Stiles's surprise, Scott called out to Allison, "Hey, I need to talk to my buddy for a minute, can I catch up with you later?" She looked bruised as she climbed down the bleachers.
Scott sat down next to Stiles. "So there's this new wrinkle. In the werewolf thing."
Kiss him kiss him kiss him wolf dick. "What now?"
"I've been thinking about biting you. Like, all day." Scott was looking at his hands, not at Stiles. "But I never will. I promise, like, I don't want you to ever have what I have."
"Thanks."
"But I've been thinking about yesterday, and - "
Stiles cut him off. "And what? Even on its own terms, it was a stupid spur-of-the-moment thing. And if you give Allison up for that, I will personally kill you."
"Yeah, I don't know," Scott said. "Every time she and I do something, I mess it up and feel like a tool, and then she gives me another chance, and it's like - do I really want to go out with a girl who's willing to put up with that?"
"The answer to that is yes times a million."
"I guess it's more like - there's so much stuff going on with me." Scott was looking out at the field like he was about to leap onto it and roll in the grass, like he could almost escape forever. "And I just want one thing to be familiar." He nudged Stiles's hand like he was thinking of holding it. "And, I mean - Batman was doing Robin, right?"
"I thought you weren't Batman."
"I'm accepting my inner Dark Knight." Scott lit up with a smile that Stiles had hardly seen since Scott's transformation. "Besides, she's not the only one who calms me down. In econ, when Finstock was ripping me a new one? Yeah. But out on the field when you were chucking balls at me, I was thinking of you... chucking balls at me. And cracking up. So, like - I love her. But I've loved you longer."
Stiles was at a loss for words, which was the feeling he hated most, because it left him vulnerable. Now was the moment in the fairy tale where the guy kissed the girl, but no way he was kissing a guy in public. So he squeezed Scott's hand, a deferred make-out session.
In the locker room, Scott was complaining that he had three weeks of econ reading to do, so maybe they should rain check, but Stiles persuaded him that the solution was a detour to the gas station for a 6-pack of energy drinks. "Caffeine can't be good for the wolf thing," Scott complained. "Caffeine and stress."
"Think of it as a challenge," Stiles said. Scott took that literally, putting on his heart monitor as he downed his first Monster drink. The monitor beeped with reassuring steadiness as they kissed. More reassuring than the mental refrain of wolf dick, replacing it with Scott's calm and human heartbeat. The beeping sped up, not enough to signal danger, but apparently enough to spook Scott, who drew back for a moment, then rested his face in the crook of Stiles's neck, not kissing him so much as holding his lips there. Scott had nothing to be afraid of - not right this second, anyway - but Stiles understood how it might get to him at random moments. It got to Stiles, too. It was easier when they were together and Stiles could see that Scott was okay.
"I was thinking about biting you," Scott said, so close to Stiles's ear that the words vibrated. "I was thinking about it, and I couldn't stop."
"Yeah, you could. I mean, you did stop." Stiles stroked the back of Scott's neck with his fingertips like he was petting a puppy. Didn't mother wolves pick their pups up by the scruff of their necks to snap them out of stuff? Stiles dug his teeth in. Scott whimpered, an inhuman sound, and the heart monitor lulled slow. Stiles bit deeper, sucking, leaving a mark.
When Stiles released him, Scott flopped back on the bed, blissed out. "Let's do our homework," he yawned. Stiles was about to object, but it turned out to be perfect timing, since it made them look like responsible young men when Stiles's dad barged in to see if Scott was staying for dinner. They actually studied for a while after Scott called his mom, and then they had reheated lasagna and awkward conversation with Stiles's dad, and then they studied a little more and made out a little more until Scott was convinced he wasn't going to fail science and Stiles was convinced Scott wasn't going to turn into a rampaging wolf monster tonight.
"That back of the neck trick?" Scott said as he stuffed his textbook into his backpack. "That's between us."
"Much like the hand jobs," Stiles replied.
"Did you leave a mark?"
"Badge of honor," Stiles said. "If anyone asks, which they won't, tell them Allison did it."
Scott was silent for a few moments, hanging onto Stiles's arm. "I shouldn't have told you I loved her. I didn't realize how you'd take it. Or, like, how I'd take how you took it. 'Cause you being mad at me, it freaks me out, and I've got enough things freaking me out. So just - tell me we're good. Permanently good. No matter what dumb shit either of us do, can we just be good?"
"Don't worry," Stiles said. Scott wasn't the only one who could hold his anger in.
Scott kissed him good night, a slow and tender surprise, before barreling down the stairs and heading home. Because Stiles couldn't pick him up by the scruff of the neck and carry him, he watched Scott bike away until he was out of sight. The moon was a sliver tonight, waning, the smile of a protective god. Stiles jerked off to put himself to sleep, dreaming a little of wolves but mostly of Batman.
Title: Blow Your Mongrel Mind
Fandom: Teen Wolf (2011 TV series)
Pairing: Scott/Stiles
Rating: NC-17; see warnings.
Warnings/Enticements: Sex between two 16-year-old boys, including some pain play.
Summary: Scott's special wolf dick powers are messing with Stiles's head.
Word count: about 2,100.
Disclaimers: Teen Wolf is the intellectual property of MTV. This original work of fan fiction is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License; attribution should include a link to this post. This story is a labor of love, not money, so it's protected in the USA by the fair use provisions of the Copyright Act of 1976.
Notes: Thanks to gone_shaughraun for beta reading and paying child support on her fanfic crackbaby. This fills the "biting/bruising" square on my kink_bingo card. The title is from "Wolf Like Me" by TV on the Radio.
*
Stiles was in math class with a precautionary notebook in his lap, wondering whether Scott's dick changed when he turned into a werewolf. Whether he got some kind of giant superpowered wolf dick. It seemed like a reasonable question, much more relevant than "What is the cosine of pi over six?" He was trying to think of a "no homo, just curious" way to bring it up in conversation, because otherwise he was going to keep wondering.
And keep picturing it, Scott with his yellow wolf eyes and sharp wolf claws, pouncing on Stiles, tearing his teeth into Stiles's neck. That was the fantasy Stiles had jerked off to the night before. He wasn't proud. He'd kept a picture of a hot naked blonde girl straddling a car on his computer screen the whole time, so if anyone walked in on him, he could at least claim to be whacking off to something normal.
Normally, blondes with big tits were what did it for him. That had been the exact topic of conversation the one time, sleeping over at Scott's when they were twelve, when they'd jerked off side by side. This whole whip-out-your-wolf-dick, bite-me-and-make-me-part-of-your-pack thing, this was new, and Stiles hoped Scott would learn to control it like he was learning to control his other powers. Stiles fully supported other people's right to be gay for their best friends, but he didn't want it for himself. What he wanted for himself was a girl who was as into him as Allison was into Scott, who hung on his words and forgave his bottomless dumbassedness, who made a hero out of him.
Since he'd failed to absorb any of the secrets of the mighty cosine during class, Stiles went to Scott's after lacrosse practice so they could do their homework together. It was not his brightest idea ever, since they were on problem #3 and all Stiles's brain could put together was wolf dick wolf dick wolf dick. "You okay?" Scott asked, probably to get Stiles to stop aggressively drumming his pencil against the pages of his math textbook.
Wolf dick. "Yeah. Just sore from lacrosse." Danny had accidentally-on-purpose body-checked Stiles during drills, and Stiles had a big bruise darkening his left side.
"I wish I had your problems." Scott sighed like he did when he was going to launch into a whine about how awful it was to be cursed with amazing superpowers.
"New lycanthropic development?" Mostly, Stiles just liked saying lycanthropy.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Yeah, you do," Stiles said. "You're desperate to talk about it."
"Okay, maybe. But it's embarrassing."
Not as embarrassing as fantasizing about your wolf dick. "You've just got to resist the urge to stop at every fire hydrant. I know it's hard, but you can do it."
Scott laughed dismissively. "God, don't even say hard. Seriously, for everything lately. Girls, guys - Mrs. Voss's poodle - "
"Poodles."
"Boy poodles."
"Oh." Stiles leaves a moment for it all to sink in. "It'll pass. I mean, it's got to pass."
"It's not gonna pass," Scott said. "None of it's gonna pass."
Stiles knew it was selfish of him, but all he could think was, as long as he and Scott were friends, he would never be able to stop thinking of wolf dick. And what he was getting from Scott, in Scott's understated way, was that the problem was mutual. Dropping Scott's friendship wasn't an option: you don't abandon the one guy who's had your back since kindergarten. His recent attempt at the silent treatment had lasted all of ten minutes. So Stiles chose the only other path available to him. He wet his lips, closed his eyes, and kissed his best friend.
They kissed like Stiles always wished girls would kiss him, so forceful it hurt, bruising his elbows on Scott's bedroom floor. Stiles's dick was raging. He could kiss until he came. He licked Scott's teeth, which were blunt and human, a long way from the full moon. Scott clutched Stiles's arms, holding him down. If Scott was red-lining as bad as he said he was, Stiles knew he could use some relief. Stiles provided it, first rubbing Scott's dick through his pants, then unzipping him to find a regular human penis. No wolf dick, just his scared, horny friend.
Scott kept kissing Stiles while Stiles pumped his dick. He ran his hands up Stiles's chest, pushing Stiles's shirt up under his armpits. Scott came in Stiles's hand and on his bare stomach. With a sort of nonchalant affection, Scott grabbed a tissue from the box on top of the dresser and wiped Stiles off. Then, with the same loving calm, he took Stiles's dick out and stroked him home.
There was a minute while Stiles was fixing his shirt and zipping his fly when he thought they might talk this over, but instead they just did their math homework. When they'd finished, Stiles threw his bag over his shoulder, getting ready to leave. Scott stopped him and kissed him again. Stiles ran home, out of breath and early for dinner.
"Rough day at practice?" Stiles's dad said halfway through the meal. "It looks like you really banged up your arms."
Stiles repeated the story about Danny knocking him down, but when he was excused from the table, he locked himself in the bathroom to see what his dad was talking about. He traced the finger-shaped bruises on his biceps. Scott didn't know his own strength.
At school the next day, Stiles pretended his friendship with Scott was the same as always, and Scott played along. By lunchtime, Stiles had begun to wonder whether anything had actually changed, but some kid elbowed him in line and his sore arm made him relive that kiss.
But there was no good time to say anything. There were people around. There was Allison, and it was pretty clear the crazy wolf dick mojo was working on her, too. Not that Stiles thought that was the only explanation. Scott deserved to have beautiful girls be into him, even if they inevitably would stomp his heart into tiny pieces.
Stiles waved Scott into the bleachers after lacrosse practice while everyone else hit the locker room. Allison was waiting there too, though, and Stiles knew she was the obvious choice. People could talk all day about putting bros before hos, but a pretty girl was like an alien mind wipe, erasing all logic and common sense.
To Stiles's surprise, Scott called out to Allison, "Hey, I need to talk to my buddy for a minute, can I catch up with you later?" She looked bruised as she climbed down the bleachers.
Scott sat down next to Stiles. "So there's this new wrinkle. In the werewolf thing."
Kiss him kiss him kiss him wolf dick. "What now?"
"I've been thinking about biting you. Like, all day." Scott was looking at his hands, not at Stiles. "But I never will. I promise, like, I don't want you to ever have what I have."
"Thanks."
"But I've been thinking about yesterday, and - "
Stiles cut him off. "And what? Even on its own terms, it was a stupid spur-of-the-moment thing. And if you give Allison up for that, I will personally kill you."
"Yeah, I don't know," Scott said. "Every time she and I do something, I mess it up and feel like a tool, and then she gives me another chance, and it's like - do I really want to go out with a girl who's willing to put up with that?"
"The answer to that is yes times a million."
"I guess it's more like - there's so much stuff going on with me." Scott was looking out at the field like he was about to leap onto it and roll in the grass, like he could almost escape forever. "And I just want one thing to be familiar." He nudged Stiles's hand like he was thinking of holding it. "And, I mean - Batman was doing Robin, right?"
"I thought you weren't Batman."
"I'm accepting my inner Dark Knight." Scott lit up with a smile that Stiles had hardly seen since Scott's transformation. "Besides, she's not the only one who calms me down. In econ, when Finstock was ripping me a new one? Yeah. But out on the field when you were chucking balls at me, I was thinking of you... chucking balls at me. And cracking up. So, like - I love her. But I've loved you longer."
Stiles was at a loss for words, which was the feeling he hated most, because it left him vulnerable. Now was the moment in the fairy tale where the guy kissed the girl, but no way he was kissing a guy in public. So he squeezed Scott's hand, a deferred make-out session.
In the locker room, Scott was complaining that he had three weeks of econ reading to do, so maybe they should rain check, but Stiles persuaded him that the solution was a detour to the gas station for a 6-pack of energy drinks. "Caffeine can't be good for the wolf thing," Scott complained. "Caffeine and stress."
"Think of it as a challenge," Stiles said. Scott took that literally, putting on his heart monitor as he downed his first Monster drink. The monitor beeped with reassuring steadiness as they kissed. More reassuring than the mental refrain of wolf dick, replacing it with Scott's calm and human heartbeat. The beeping sped up, not enough to signal danger, but apparently enough to spook Scott, who drew back for a moment, then rested his face in the crook of Stiles's neck, not kissing him so much as holding his lips there. Scott had nothing to be afraid of - not right this second, anyway - but Stiles understood how it might get to him at random moments. It got to Stiles, too. It was easier when they were together and Stiles could see that Scott was okay.
"I was thinking about biting you," Scott said, so close to Stiles's ear that the words vibrated. "I was thinking about it, and I couldn't stop."
"Yeah, you could. I mean, you did stop." Stiles stroked the back of Scott's neck with his fingertips like he was petting a puppy. Didn't mother wolves pick their pups up by the scruff of their necks to snap them out of stuff? Stiles dug his teeth in. Scott whimpered, an inhuman sound, and the heart monitor lulled slow. Stiles bit deeper, sucking, leaving a mark.
When Stiles released him, Scott flopped back on the bed, blissed out. "Let's do our homework," he yawned. Stiles was about to object, but it turned out to be perfect timing, since it made them look like responsible young men when Stiles's dad barged in to see if Scott was staying for dinner. They actually studied for a while after Scott called his mom, and then they had reheated lasagna and awkward conversation with Stiles's dad, and then they studied a little more and made out a little more until Scott was convinced he wasn't going to fail science and Stiles was convinced Scott wasn't going to turn into a rampaging wolf monster tonight.
"That back of the neck trick?" Scott said as he stuffed his textbook into his backpack. "That's between us."
"Much like the hand jobs," Stiles replied.
"Did you leave a mark?"
"Badge of honor," Stiles said. "If anyone asks, which they won't, tell them Allison did it."
Scott was silent for a few moments, hanging onto Stiles's arm. "I shouldn't have told you I loved her. I didn't realize how you'd take it. Or, like, how I'd take how you took it. 'Cause you being mad at me, it freaks me out, and I've got enough things freaking me out. So just - tell me we're good. Permanently good. No matter what dumb shit either of us do, can we just be good?"
"Don't worry," Stiles said. Scott wasn't the only one who could hold his anger in.
Scott kissed him good night, a slow and tender surprise, before barreling down the stairs and heading home. Because Stiles couldn't pick him up by the scruff of the neck and carry him, he watched Scott bike away until he was out of sight. The moon was a sliver tonight, waning, the smile of a protective god. Stiles jerked off to put himself to sleep, dreaming a little of wolves but mostly of Batman.