It was quite possibly the second most awful day in Stiles Stilinski's life, which at the moment consisted of nineteen years and had amassed a more than fair amount of bad days. But this one... By far, this one topped the charts.

The blame was unequivocably credited to his girlfriend. Three months and no sex. "I need sex," She said, yesterday before this nightmare had begun, "And if you aren't serious enough about me to provide it, then maybe we should break up."

It was more than a little manipulative and even though Stiles was a virile young man who had fancied himself worth waiting for, he was now pressured into making a crucial decision.

Was this the girl he wanted to give his virginity to?

In all of his nineteen years of life he had been various combinations of 'too young', 'too awkward', 'too shy', and 'not my type'. After a particularly morose rejection he'd embraced the conviction to wait until he met a girl he was head over heels for that returned his feelings ten-fold. He did like Maya and she seemed to like him when she wasn't issuing ultimatums. So Stiles decided that this must be it, the pivotal moment, the grand event.

Only it wasn't.

There were certain... performance issues. And because of that she insisted he make an appointment to see a doctor, practically wishing aloud that he was diagnosed with something that wasn't contagious but explained why two hours of sucking, licking, and stroking didn't get him across the finish line; or very far into the race for that matter.

And so here he sat. In the office of the doctor he'd had since fifth grade; a kind old man with a wrinkly smile and an easy manner. The poor guy's opinion of innocent Stiles would be shattered after today.

However, instead of his doctor, a complete stranger walked in. A hot stranger with pitch black hair, a knife edge jawline, two night's worth of stubble, and a long white coat. His eyes were as peculiar as his presence in this room, an indecisive green and where most people's eyes act as a window to their soul, his were impassable and sharp like a sword aiming directly at Stiles.

This was definitely the second most awful day in his life.

The man looked too young to be a doctor; but maybe he just seemed young compared to Stiles' previous physician. He was a few years older than the boy, who obviously squirmed under his appraisal, and introduced himself without hesitation. "I'm Doctor Hale. I'm afraid Dr. Leif is out of commision at this time."

"Oh." Stiles said. He sort of already assumed that; although, the majority of his brain was clinging to the spark of hope that this man had come to the wrong room. Maybe he should feign a miracle recovery and leave before things got really awkward? Like this Adonis checking out his defective junk.

Seriously, Doctor Hale? How about Doctor Fuck-Me-For-The-Rest-Of-My-Life? And his voice. Fuck, his voice... Everything about him put Stiles in mind of early mornings with black coffee, bed mussed hair, and low hanging sweats, residual gravel in the morning greeting from near predatory grunts and growls during the previous night's events.

"All right, Mr. Stilinski," The man began, extinguishing Stiles' daydreams with the all too real inevitability that loomed before them.

"Stiles." The teenager interrupted, instantly biting his lip for doing so. He didn't mean to give his name. He was supposed to get the hell out of dodge and hope that guy forgot who he was before finding out why he was here-

Oh, as he was now doing. Great.

Dr. Hale scanned the clipboard in his hand, lifting the top page to survey the one beneath. He sauntered habitually over to the chair nearby and sank into it, brows pulled into a deep frown of concentration. "You're here for erectile disfunction?"

"Already got it, but thanks."

Shifting green flashed up to him and Stiles turned his eyes downward to the tiled floor, cheeks growing hot. Run, Stiles. Run while you've still got time.

"You're a bit young to be dealing with impotence... Have you suffered any recent trauma? Started taking any new medication or supplements not listed in your file?"

"No."

"Have you been short of breath or had any other issues with physical activity?"

"Not that I can think of."

"Any localized pain? Exposure to suspicious chemicals?"

"No?"

With every question Stiles got more unsure of his answer. There had to be something wrong with him. It couldn't be like Maya suggested, that he just wasn't attracted to her, right? She was cute! A perky little blonde with baby blue eyes and a smile like the sun. And her tiny hands fit so neatly inside his to the point where he felt he could protect her from anything. She made him feel like a man... Up until yesterday.

Doctor Hale raised an eyebrow at his uncomfortable patient. "Is there something you're not telling me?" He asked, laying aside the clipboard.

Stiles stirred a bit on the edge of the examination table, gripping his fingers tight enough to cause minor pain. He had to focus. This was more than Maya and him. What if he could never get hard again? Though it hadn't been a problem for him a few days ago in the shower. He was probably overreacting.

The doctor waited for the boy to reveal something, confess to a vital piece of information that could help the rest of the puzzle fall into place. It was beyond unusual for a person his age to be having trouble with libido. There must be a physical reason behind this; or if not, he would be sent to the psych wing to cry out some unresolved issue with his mother.

When it became clear that the only way to break the deafening silence in the cream toned room would be for the older of the two to speak, he did so, standing. "Stiles," He said, removing the stethescope hanging from his neck like an undone tie, "I'm going to listen to your heart to make sure it's working correctly. I want you to open your shirt, please."

As luck would have it, Stiles hadn't given much consideration for his outfit and gone with two layers. His top shirt was easy enough to unbutton and part, but the T-shirt beneath was another matter. He glanced up at the brunette- how tall was this guy- and stuttered, "I can take it off if that would be better?"

Dr. Hale's eyes dropped to the boy's chest and he deliberated. After a moment's pause, he said, "No, this should be fine." He surprised Stiles by pulling up the hem of the shirt and directing him to hold it up to provide better access. The cold press of metal over Stiles' heart made him jump. "Take a deep breath for me."

Stiles obeyed too quickly and had to remind himself to calm down. This was normal procedure. Doctor Hale probably did this a hundred times a day. He was just another human rhythm thumping in those delicious, lickable ears.

Gosh, not being able to get off made him horny.

The doctor moved his stethescope around to the boy's back and instructed him to take a few more deep breaths. His eyes tracked down the various moles on the nineteen year old's fair skin while he listened. Then he moved away.

"Your heart rate's a little fast. Nervous?"

Stiles felt it quicken even more despite the calming smile and gulped. "N-No, not really."

"So tell me what happened. You couldn't get off or you couldn't get interested at all? Which?"

"Um..." The time for Stiles to make an escape had passed. This was moment of truth time. This was biting the bullet. "I failed at sex."

A hint of the smile returned but immediately vanished. "How so?"

The boy kneaded his hands together as he spoke. He had to do something with his hands, it relaxed him. "My girlfriend and I were... going to sleep together and at first things went okay, but when it started to get really serious I just... I couldn't keep it up. If you know what I mean."

"Hm."

That was it. The entire reaction to the pathetic near de-virginizing of Stiles Stilinski. Just a non-commital hum.

Then, looking to the side at some distant point of deciphering, Dr. Hale said, "Have you had this problem before or was this the first time?"

"The first...? Oh. Yeah, it was the first time I did anything like that."

"It didn't happen with anyone else?"

"No."

"So, you've never lost it before..."

"No, I'm a virgin."

Dr. Hale's attention refocused on Stiles. "I meant losing your erection."

Stiles' face turned deep crimson and he made a funny noise. "Oh. Sorry, I was confused... No, I never had that happen before."

"Because you've never had sex before. But when you masturbate do you always reach climax?"

Every inch of Stiles' skin felt like it was lit with fire. Embarrassment burned through his veins and gave him that horrible panicky feeling that was like free-falling without a parachute. "I- Yeah."

"When was your last ejaculation?"

Stiles could only look at the floor now. "A couple of days ago. Maybe Tuesday?"

"Hm."

There it was again. That short sound that meant the wheels were turning in the man's head, no doubt squealing with mockery about Stiles being a failure at sex.

Doctor Hale noticed his patient's rosy red cheeks and the flush of shame that traveled down part of his neck and up to his ears and reached out a large hand to pat his knee. He smiled again. "There's no need to be shy, we're both men. I've got the same thing down there you do."

Probably ten times bigger. The reminder was still oddly helpful and Stiles could feel himself start to relax. But the nervousness was revived in full force by the next inquiry.

"What did your girlfriend do when things were 'getting serious'? Something that turned you off or might have caused your arousal to diminish?"

Diminish. What a good word for it. And how ironic that it was also the adjective most apt to describe what was happening to his pride right now.

He knew what Dr. Hale was doing. He was trying to figure out some explaination without having to see the faulty equipment in question. If it was that easy, Stiles would have figured it out himself before relenting to come here. "No."

"Can you give me an idea of what was going on the moment you went soft?"

"Erm, she was straddling me? And taking off her bra... It was fine then. And I got on top and we were kissing and I took off her skirt and... then... went... downtown? You know, down there. I was going to do oral but she wanted to go all the way, so she started taking off my pants and... it..." Stiles made a gesture to convey what he meant and the other man nodded slowly.

Doctor Hale took a deep breath. "Do you enjoy giving oral? I mean, are you more aroused by that than the act of penetration?" How was this man so damn professional and serious while such dirty words came out of his mouth?

"Um, not really. I just thought if she could come that way it would be the end of it. I guess I-"

"Didn't want to do it."

"I... Maybe?" Stiles hadn't thought of that. Maybe he didn't want to go through with it. All this worrying about losing her and never getting laid had driven him to make a hasty decision. Perhaps it was as simple as his body telling him he wasn't ready to give that part of himself to someone else. But it had been appealing in theory, everything was fine until things got real and his eagerness came to a sudden halt.

The black-haired man was still nodding when he stood up and reached for the item Stiles had gratefully stopped eyeing after he was distracted by those deeply personal questions. Elastic gloves. Stiles had hoped this part would be skipped, forgotten, deemed unnescessary. But Dr. Hale slid his hands inside the accursed things, first one and then the other. He met Stile's squeamish stare and tried to offer yet another soothing smile. "I've got to take a look and make sure everything is in working order."

Stiles sagged, resigned himself to his fate, and stood. He unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants, leaving his boxers on until the doctor requested he remove them, too. Then, Stiles lifted his face to the ceiling, his lower half completely exposed and the warm fabric pooling around his ankles. He didn't want to watch the scrutiny on that gorgeous face when Dr. Hale knelt down. His body flooded a second time with scorching shame.

Calm down, He told himself, It's only a simple medical examination. Of my private parts. Totally nothing to freak out over.

The room was oddly quiet. He listened to the sound of his own stressed breathing and hoped this would be over soon.

Then the touch that he should have been expecting but still shocked him all the same.

Dr. Hale's hand was warm; nothing like Stiles was used to as his regular doc had bad circulation. He seemed to be careful not to create any more area of contact than he had to, probing and searching while Stiles restrained a shiver. This guy's hands were so hot, why was Stiles trembling?

A careless sigh hit Stiles' cock and the boy jolted. "Sorry." Doctor Hale murmured, locking eyes with him.

"Uh, it's okay..."

It was more than okay. It was so much more than okay. That is what Stiles' dick declared when it opted for mutiny and started to swell with mounting excitement to his abject humiliation.

This time it was Stiles' turn to mutter an apology and the green-eyed doctor reassured him with, "It happens all the time. Don't worry. At least we know you can start the process."

Maybe so, but why was he 'starting the process' as the brunette had so delicately put it? Stiles couldn't regain a stiffy for any amount of attention yesterday but here he was responding to the slightest, most unintentional of teases. That was confusing to say the least.

The exam continued with experienced hands squeezing Stiles' balls gently and prodding along his inner thighs without touching his half-hard cock. He kept asking Stiles if this hurt or that hurt and the boy's replies were getting less and less comprehensible. His voice was failing. He was afraid that if he tried to speak louder he might whimper.

There was an unknown energy building in his body. It wasn't just attraction, he felt that before and knew what it was like. This... This was something new. It was a molten river crawling through his veins, an itchy restlessness that crept into his limbs. A feeling like no other and so he couldn't identify it. This, He thought absently, Would have made yesterday a lot more fun.

Doctor Hale's hand finally brushed Stiles' cock, seeming accidental, and the boy let out an involuntary noise. The physician's green eyes sought out his wide brown ones and held them. He opened his mouth and it took a second for words to follow. "Would you like to see if you can get off today? Since it's already hard."

Stiles knew in the back of his mind this was a bad idea. But his head moved up and down before he could stop it. Surely, this was all for the sake of curing his little problem. He shouldn't feel like it was anything more than that. And he was imagining that searing look the other man was giving him, he had to be. After all, he was Stiles. Sad little virgin Stiles whose dick only worked when he was watching porn or playing doctor/patient with the world's most gifted top model.

"You can do it yourself but I would like to stay to observe." Doctor Hale rose to his full height and gazed down at the blushing teenager.

Stiles' heart sank but his desperation did not waver. It was strictly in the interest of fixing the problem that he said timidly, "Could you do it? Since it only works when I'm the one doing it anyway. I-It might... be more helpful if you try."

The black haired man looked surprised by the request but, before Stiles could take it back, told him to lie down. He moved to retrieve something from one of the cabinets in the room while the boy hurried to follow the order. When the doctor returned to his side, he opened the tube in his hand and squirted what looked like lube onto his palm. His eyes were darker now and bore into Stiles like he was the only thing in the world the man wanted. "My name is Derek." He said.

And then his whole palm closed around Stiles' cock, taking it with a slow but steady pull that made the teenager's hips thrust forward.

"Uhn, Derek..." Stiles panted, not sure if he was moaning the name in confirmation or because he really needed to moan something and it felt so good slipping off his tongue. He acheived a full erection rather quickly and uttered an endless stream of moans, sometimes using swears and other times complete gibberish during the tight climb up to the tip.

Derek's hand (now he had a name!) was hot, and huge, and he definitely knew what he was doing. He pumped the shaft in a steady pace, neither speeding up nor slowing down, which on its own threatened to drive Stiles crazy. His eyes were attentive and more open now, unguarded in the presence of this quivering mess of youth. Even though Stiles' own eyes were sealed shut in ecstacy, he knew that Derek's were roaming all over his body. He could feel the tingling haunt of their trail.

So rough it was barely decipherable, Derek said, "Good responses. You don't seem to be having any difficulty keeping it up this time."

Yes, the doctor talk is kinky and all but stop making this more clinical. Stiles intended to say this in an authoritative way to remind Derek who was really in charge here but all he managed was a whine. His cock was now full and leaking pre-come which mixed with the lube and made the up and down slide of the other man's hand feel like the devil's greatest construct of seduction. It was all heat and friction and yet he couldn't get enough. If only Derek would speed up. Go faster, get tighter, something, anything. But he didn't. And that made Stiles writhe on the paper sheet, arching his back up in a way he only did at home in his own bed right before coming. But he wasn't coming, that was the problem! He needed to, he was so fucking ready to.

"Derek," He whined, "Please... I need-"

"Give it a minute longer."

"Nnn... No... please." He tossed his head from side to side and fisted the crinkly paper until it tore, leaving him scratching at the plastic underneath. "I can't! I want to come... Der-!" The begging broke off in a moan when the doctor's long fingers dragged up the vein in his cock with intentional pressure. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Was the boy's exhale as he took full leave of his senses and lost everything to the pleasure he was receiving.

With one final convulsion, he came all over his stomach and Derek's hand, riding it out with a deep moan.

"You didn't appear to have any difficulty reaching orgasm."

"Yeah," Stiles busied himself with buttoning his overshirt, "I wonder why it didn't work like that yesterday."

"Stiles... Have you ever considered the possibility you might be attracted to men?"

He faced Derek with doe eyes, gaping. "What? No, wh- No. I'm straight. I've always dated girls."

"Yet you've never had sex with any of them."

"Not for lack of trying, believe me! The chance never came along."

"Then how do you explain yesterday? You were in bed with a lovely girl- I assume you have good taste- and she's opening herself up for you and you can't go through with it. It's not typical of a boy your age to lose an erection in a situation like that unless it's a situation he doesn't really want to be in."

And the one you wanted to be in was here. With me, a man. That's what he knew Derek was hinting with that look. And as much as he wanted to deny it, to throw the concept back in Derek's face and run out the door... He couldn't. It was true. He did just let another guy jerk him off and it felt great. Even better than when he was hopelessly forcing himself to please Maya yesterday.

Oh shit. Maya. He would have to tell her about this. Or break up with her. Probably the latter since she would be cutting all ties with him after hearing this retelling of events. It was good thing he didn't give her his virginity.

Casting a glance back at Derek, he cleared his throat so the other man would look at him. Then he said, "If I have any more problems should I make another appointment?"

The temporarily broken walls had been restored in his gorgeous green eyes. Stiles longed to see them crumble again. "I doubt that will be necessary."

"Oh..." Stiles deflated and reached for the door handle.

"But just in case," Derek scribbled something down on a piece of paper, "This is my pager number. If you feel alternate forms of stimulation are something you would consider exploring, let me know."

Stiles could barely restrain his grin as he took the slip of paper. "You..." He shook his head and looked from the digits to composed expression he knew hid a hungry wolf. "You really need to work on your flirting."

It seems all I can write lately is porrn.

And let's be real here... Derek is not a professional kind of guy. Ah well, I promise he knows what he's talking about. Stiles is at the very least bisexual with a strong inclination towards men (especially the ones that look like Derek c;) and he totally asked for that handjob. HE ASKED FOR IT. So I don't want to hear any outcries of non-con because there was no non-of-the-conning going on here!

Sigh... I don't even write good porn anymore. It's all poorly written porno plots. I hate that. -_-

Meh. What's the world come to if there's no more room for trash like me?

Ta to the Ta, my dears~