Fic The status quo (for a horror movie) // R // Stiles/anon
Title: The status quo (for a horror movie)
Pairing: Stiles/anon guy (kinda)
Rating: R
Warnings: Unsafe, anonymous sex
Words: 730, unbeta’d
Disclaimer: No claim of ownership, just playing, blah, blah, blah.
Summary: The bathrooms in Jungle were pretty much like other club bathrooms.
Stiles assumed.
A/N: Written for challenge #1 at mating_games. I have a few more of these to post now that the challenge fics have cleared and I finally realized I should be crossposting them, LOL.
The bathrooms in Jungle were pretty much like other club bathrooms.
Stiles assumed.
Jungle was the only place he’d tried out his fake ID (didn’t work on any of the bartenders) so he didn’t have much to compare it against but he didn’t really want to, either. He felt safe at Jungle.
Which was weird, considering the weird shit that went down in Beacon Hills and in this club and, well, maybe it was his life.
The only weird shit happening on this particular Friday night, however, was the unbearable need to piss that Stiles was having. His virgin rum and cokes were racing through him so when he finally made a break for the bathrooms he didn’t take much notice of why the urinals were all taken instead of the stalls.
He slammed into one, barely getting the door locked and his pants down in time before he tilted his head back and groaned in sweet relief.
When finished he zipped up, ready to leave, but he heard a moan in the stall to his left, not unlike the one he’d just released. This one was followed by an answering stutter of heavy breathing and then rhythmic thumps. Stiles cautiously leaned forward, as if to press his ear against the wall.
In his head he could see that scene in Scream 2 on loop and he ducked back at the last second. He had the internet, after all. He turned around to leave but as he faced the opposite wall he saw a finger hanging through a hole in the wall.
“Uh,” Stiles uttered smartly.
The finger beckoned him closer but Stiles was pretty sure this was a scene from a horror movie, too.
“I wanna suck you,” a voice rasped through the hole.
Stiles considered his options.
Horror movie scenario in which he either gets a) stabbed, b) his dick cut off, c) otherwise maimed or murdered by an unknown force, aka: any day of the week while hanging out with the werewolves.
Or he could get his dick sucked.
Stiles unzipped his pants slowly, feeling his cock twitch at the thought. He jacked himself a couple times, then stepped up to the wall, feeling nervous.
As soon as the head of his cock passed through the hole in the wall it was like entering hot, wet heaven. Stiles tried to stifle his moan but his partner hummed appreciatively around him so Stiles couldn’t hide his reactions.
Jerking off quickly under the covers of his own bed was trumped by the introduction of internet porn was trumped by lube was trumped by the danger of jerking off in semi-public places was totally trumped by getting his dick sucked in the Jungle bathroom.
His partner seemed to have done this before because he was licking and rolling his tongue over the head of Stiles’ cock like a goddamn pro.
Stiles wrapped his hands over the top of the stall wall, trying to move impossibly closer. His hips jerked somewhat, eager to thrust at will into the welcoming mouth.
He could feel drool rolling down his cock, towards his poor, ignored balls and he imagined his partner’s face wet and slick with it and his precum that was leaking steadily.
Stiles felt himself tighten at the thought and he cursed the world for being a sixteen year-old and having the stamina of one.
“Dude, gonna come,” he grunted but his partner didn’t stop, just sucked harder and faster.
Stiles groaned, felt his balls draw up and he sailed over the edge---
Screams.
Of course.
Stiles was suddenly coming into nothingness, his partner gone in a flash.
“Fuck,” Stiles muttered. He pulled himself together, tucked his sensitive cock away and rushed toward the commotion out on the dance floor.
As he ran towards the noise he was jerked backwards.
“Stiles? What are you doing here?” Derek demanded--who else?
“Hanging out?” Stiles offered lamely. Derek frowned and nodded towards the exit.
“Leave, now.”
“But-”
“Now.” Derek pushed him away and tried to enter the melee in the middle of the room but not before Stiles noticed a few thick, white drops on the front of Derek’s leather jacket.
Huh.
Pairing: Stiles/anon guy (kinda)
Rating: R
Warnings: Unsafe, anonymous sex
Words: 730, unbeta’d
Disclaimer: No claim of ownership, just playing, blah, blah, blah.
Summary: The bathrooms in Jungle were pretty much like other club bathrooms.
Stiles assumed.
A/N: Written for challenge #1 at mating_games. I have a few more of these to post now that the challenge fics have cleared and I finally realized I should be crossposting them, LOL.
The bathrooms in Jungle were pretty much like other club bathrooms.
Stiles assumed.
Jungle was the only place he’d tried out his fake ID (didn’t work on any of the bartenders) so he didn’t have much to compare it against but he didn’t really want to, either. He felt safe at Jungle.
Which was weird, considering the weird shit that went down in Beacon Hills and in this club and, well, maybe it was his life.
The only weird shit happening on this particular Friday night, however, was the unbearable need to piss that Stiles was having. His virgin rum and cokes were racing through him so when he finally made a break for the bathrooms he didn’t take much notice of why the urinals were all taken instead of the stalls.
He slammed into one, barely getting the door locked and his pants down in time before he tilted his head back and groaned in sweet relief.
When finished he zipped up, ready to leave, but he heard a moan in the stall to his left, not unlike the one he’d just released. This one was followed by an answering stutter of heavy breathing and then rhythmic thumps. Stiles cautiously leaned forward, as if to press his ear against the wall.
In his head he could see that scene in Scream 2 on loop and he ducked back at the last second. He had the internet, after all. He turned around to leave but as he faced the opposite wall he saw a finger hanging through a hole in the wall.
“Uh,” Stiles uttered smartly.
The finger beckoned him closer but Stiles was pretty sure this was a scene from a horror movie, too.
“I wanna suck you,” a voice rasped through the hole.
Stiles considered his options.
Horror movie scenario in which he either gets a) stabbed, b) his dick cut off, c) otherwise maimed or murdered by an unknown force, aka: any day of the week while hanging out with the werewolves.
Or he could get his dick sucked.
Stiles unzipped his pants slowly, feeling his cock twitch at the thought. He jacked himself a couple times, then stepped up to the wall, feeling nervous.
As soon as the head of his cock passed through the hole in the wall it was like entering hot, wet heaven. Stiles tried to stifle his moan but his partner hummed appreciatively around him so Stiles couldn’t hide his reactions.
Jerking off quickly under the covers of his own bed was trumped by the introduction of internet porn was trumped by lube was trumped by the danger of jerking off in semi-public places was totally trumped by getting his dick sucked in the Jungle bathroom.
His partner seemed to have done this before because he was licking and rolling his tongue over the head of Stiles’ cock like a goddamn pro.
Stiles wrapped his hands over the top of the stall wall, trying to move impossibly closer. His hips jerked somewhat, eager to thrust at will into the welcoming mouth.
He could feel drool rolling down his cock, towards his poor, ignored balls and he imagined his partner’s face wet and slick with it and his precum that was leaking steadily.
Stiles felt himself tighten at the thought and he cursed the world for being a sixteen year-old and having the stamina of one.
“Dude, gonna come,” he grunted but his partner didn’t stop, just sucked harder and faster.
Stiles groaned, felt his balls draw up and he sailed over the edge---
Screams.
Of course.
Stiles was suddenly coming into nothingness, his partner gone in a flash.
“Fuck,” Stiles muttered. He pulled himself together, tucked his sensitive cock away and rushed toward the commotion out on the dance floor.
As he ran towards the noise he was jerked backwards.
“Stiles? What are you doing here?” Derek demanded--who else?
“Hanging out?” Stiles offered lamely. Derek frowned and nodded towards the exit.
“Leave, now.”
“But-”
“Now.” Derek pushed him away and tried to enter the melee in the middle of the room but not before Stiles noticed a few thick, white drops on the front of Derek’s leather jacket.
Huh.