Pairing: Sheriff Stilinski/Bobby Finstock
Warnings: Sex
Bobby isn't entirely sure how he went from sarcastically (well, it was sarcasm at the time) telling the Sheriff that he liked to be called cupcake to getting fucked harder than he's been fucked in a while in the man's bed with him asking in a low growly kind of voice that's actually really kind of hot if he was gonna come, cupcake.
He's even less sure how it turned into a regular thing either or how they kept it from Stiles as long as they have, but he's certainly not going to complain because the sex is fantastic, really it's even made him less inclined to yell at Greenberg, and because John is willing to call him Cupcake during sex and manages to make it sound sexy instead of just awkward. That and the fact that he actually likes to call him cupcake among other pet names is definitely a plus in his book too.
However, he should have known better to think that everything would be smooth sailing for the foreseeable future because everything falls apart eventually.
He's sure now isn't that time though because they've got at least two hours before Stiles comes home from being out with his friends this Saturday night and it's a rare day off for John, so they're making out in the kitchen like teenagers.
Bobby's pressed against the counter, John's hands curling around his hips, kisses turning more frantic and desperate as Bobby works a thigh between John's legs. John groans into his mouth and pulls him away from the counter and they're stripping each other on the way to the bedroom just like teenagers too, but Bobby finds that he really doesn't care when his back hits the mattress and John's back on top of him, bare skin against bare skin.
"Come on, Cupcake." John pants, working his fingers inside of Bobby and Bobby can only moan and rock his hips down onto John's fingers. John grins up at him, blue eyes dark with lust. Bobby drags him back up for another biting kiss as John fumbles for the tube of lube and condom, working the condom onto his cock before slicking himself up with lube and then he's pressing Bobby back onto the mattress and sliding inside of him, the slow burn of the catch and drag of skin overwhelming them both.
Bobby clenches around John when he's inside of him all the way before relaxing.
"Okay there, Cupcake?" John asks through gritted teeth and Bobby jerks his hips sharply, making John gasp.
"Will be once you start moving." Bobby hisses, arching his back up off the bed.
John starts off with a slow and steady pace, but Bobby is having none of that as he rocks up against John, matching his thrusts and forcing him to go faster and harder and deeper until they're both whimper, groaning messes, leaving harsh kisses on any patch of skin they can reach as they're both pushed towards orgasm.
John wraps his fingers around Bobby's cock and strokes him in time with their thrusts and it's not long after that that Bobby's throwing his head back and coming hard, clenching down around John and pushing him into his own orgasm.
It's later that's a problem when they're shirtless in the kitchen, hunting around for the good snacks that Stiles keeps hidden around somewhere because Stiles comes home.
"Hey Dad, I'm..." He trails off and stares at Bobby, mouth open and eyes wide.
Bobby makes a strangled sort of sound because he can see Stiles' eyes going down from his face to the love bites scattered across his neck, collarbones, and chest and then over to his dad and seeing the matching set there.
John steps forward. "We were going to tell you, Stiles, but we hadn't figured out the right time."
"Never? Never sounds like the right time. I'm gonna go and drink some bleach and dip my eyes in it too because OH MY GOD DAD, Coach Finstock, really?" Stiles flails for a moment, scowling at his dad.
Bobby stays back against the counter. It isn't his kid after all. Though he did like Stiles. A little. More than he liked most teenagers, which honestly, isn't a lot.
"We'll talk about this in the morning. Are you going back over to Scott's?" John asks.
"Definitely am now. You didn't do...anything in the kitchen, did you? I cook there!" Stiles shoots an accusing look at his dad before turning it on Bobby.
"No." John winces.
"I'm gonna go now. We'll talk later?" Stiles asks, nodding at his dad.
"Yeah. All of us." John says firmly, giving Bobby a firm look too.
Bobby and Stiles roll their eyes and Stiles pats his dad's arm.
"I'm not mad. Just freaked." Stiles nods before leaving.
"Well, that went a bit better than I thought." John says, sagging against the fridge.
Bobby shrugs and is glad he doesn't have kids.
