Title: Strawberries
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Character(s)/Pairing: Jackson/Scott
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: a scene of minor dub-con
Notes: Written for Teen Wolf Kink Meme.

Jackson smelled like strawberries, and Scott loved nothing more than strawberries and sugar.

Scott could smell it under Jackson's aftershave, under his cologne, under his deodorant, and under the very faint dash of Lydia's perfume. He could even smell it during practice, when Jackson's hair grasped wetly for his brow and his body was covered in the scent of every player that bumped into him, knocked into him, nudged him, jostled him, or sent him careening sideways to the fragrant earth. The others always laughed good-naturedly and pulled him to his feet; Jackson thought Scott didn't laugh too because, according to Jackson, Scott's a bitch.

Even though Scott would admit that sometimes he was a bit of an asshole, and maybe sometimes he was a lot of an asshole – that wasn't why he didn't grin along with everyone else. It was because he was busy thinking about strawberries, wondering if Jackson tasted like strawberries, and feeling guilty that he wanted to lie his head on the pretty dip of Jackson's stomach just below his ribcage and breathe open-mouthed and deep, pull the strawberries across his tongue, down his throat, and deep inside himself.

Stiles nudged him with the end of his Crosse and Scott cleared his throat.

"Zoned out there - thinking about Allison? I know it's awesome fun to think about shoving your nose in her - "Scott stopped listening as Stiles continued to say inappropriate but nonetheless funny things about his girlfriend and, again, he felt guilty because he didn't really care what Stiles was saying about Allison.

Recently, Scott had become preoccupied with the way things smelled, and often whatever that smell was had a significant effect on whether or not he liked whatever he was smelling. He liked the way Jackson smelled, definitely more than he should, but he also liked the way Stiles smelled. As he vaguely listened to Stiles rattle on about something completely unrelated to Allison, he breathed a little deeper.

Stiles smelled like something familiar, like roasted pecans and honey, and Scott thought that Stiles had probably always smelled that way. But he doesn't want to trace the line going from Stiles' bellybutton to his chest, the one that forks and forms the dual lines of his collarbones; he certainly doesn't want to do it wet, do it with his tongue, like he wanted to with Jackson just because he smelled like strawberries.

From across the field Scott could hear Jackson breathe rough and shallow. Scott pretended, for a moment, that Jackson breathed like that in bed, with his legs spread and fingers grasping at nothing and everything. Scott nodded at what Stiles was saying as he and his teammates left the field for the locker rooms.

Scott felt like a cliché as he resisted and mostly failed at resisting shooting sideways glances at Jackson in the showers. He rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers and tried to picture Allison, sweet Allison, with her long hair and her pretty smile, but he glanced at Jackson again from behind his hair, and Jackson was standing so that Scott could see the rivulets of hot water slipping down the center of his ass, and god Scott wanted to follow that trail.

He quickly rinsed the soap out of his hair and wished fleetingly that it was acceptable for men to use strawberry shampoo.

He met Allison in the hallway, smiling as she pecked him on the cheek and grabbed his hand.

"So, Lydia wants us to go with her and Jackson to a show."

Scott raised his eyebrows and said, "A show? What kind of show? And I thought we agreed that double dates kind of suck."

"A show as in music; it's some local band. At... what's it called? The Warehouse?" Allison pulled the right corner of her mouth up and eyed him sideways. "And I know that double dates are kind of awkward, but I think it might be fun to go to a show."

Scott cleared his throat, smiled at Allison, and agreed.

The band was awful. Lydia and Allison seemed amused enough, but Scott suspected it was less the musicianship and more the visuals. Jackson kept shifting from foot to foot, his arms crossed and mouth a nettled line. He leaned down and said something to Lydia; Scott watched as he turned, ignored Scott completely, and stepped out the front of the building. Scott nudged Allison and pointed at the bathroom. She nodded, so he turned and weaved through the throng of smelly teenagers.

There are few things more god awful than the stench of a bathroom. To a regular person it wouldn't be so bad, just a typical bathroom, but to Scott it was burning, eye watering bad. He placed his hands over his face and focused; the smell faded.

He washed his hands slowly, not really wanting to leave the awkwardly small bathroom and force himself to listen to the shitty music. He was tamping down his ears, tamping down his nose, tamping down everything so this was at least bearable. He closed his eyes and focused some more and he smelled even less, heard even less; only a dull ring and nothing else.

And suddenly, strawberries.

His eyes snapped open and there was Jackson, eyeing him in the mirror over Scott's shoulder.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Scott shrugged. Jackson was wearing a hat, which Scott wasn't used to, but liked. He rubbed his hands on his jeans and turned to face Jackson. He became more aware of the smallness of the bathroom when he turned and his forehead brushed the brim of Jackson's cap. He'd been this close to Jackson before, but all previous encounters involved some sort of threat.

"What were you doing?"

Scott stepped to the side, away from the gentle heartbeat and the strawberries, and said, "Just have a headache is all." He caught a draft of something else cutting through the air, coming from Jackson; it wasn't strawberries - it was something metallic. He forced himself not to sniff the air.

"That's bullshit." Jackson's voice was low and threatening, loud in Scott's ears, loud enough for him to feel it on his skin.

Scott suspected that Jackson was operating under the belief that he was intimidating to Scott, even outright threatening. The idea almost made Scott giddy with amusement. He wasn't uncomfortable because he was scared; he was uncomfortable because he was steadily more aware of hot weight between his legs.

He returned to Allison's side, again tamping all of his senses; it was like packing mud into a hole above an explosive.

When Allison broke it off after the night in the school with the Alpha, Scott should've felt a lot worse about it. He should've felt guilty for indirectly putting her in the situation; he should've been upset that he'd been dumped by one of the prettiest girls in school. It's not that he doesn't like Allison, because obviously he does, and it's not like he isn't attracted to her, because obviously he is, but she smells something like plums - which wasn't necessarily a bad smell, but he'd never liked plums.

All he felt now was annoyed by Jackson for smelling like goddamn strawberries and threatening to out him to the school; jealous of Allison because she was in the pool with Jackson and he was eyeing her body every time she turned to look at her hands; and inappropriately aroused because Jackson was half naked, which meant he wasn't focused on the task at hand, which was stealing Allison's necklace.

He snuck back out into the hallways and grit his teeth; Jackson was an asshole. That was an undeniable fact. However, Jackson smelled exceptionally good, which was something that meant more to Scott than he'd realized, and when he'd earlier goaded Scott into anger with the idea of Allison screaming Jackson's name, it hadn't upset him for the reasons Jackson had assumed.

Scott was annoyed because he didn't want to be attracted to Jackson. Jackson was an asshole. Scott was further aggravated by Jackson stepping into his personal bubble and threatening him with whatthefuckever because when he was that close, Scott could more clearly smell something metallic - strawberries definitely weren't supposed to smell metallic. This also made him more aware of the fact that, again, he should be more concerned with Allison, which led him to sending stupid photos, which led him to feeling like an asshole.

So, in the lunchroom, when Jackson was being perverted, Scott was furious for a multitude of reasons; primarily because Jackson talking about anyone screaming names inevitably led Scott to thinking about Jackson screaming his name.

Everything was all kinds of fucked up, and Scott didn't like it.

Scott was staring at the back of Jackson's neck.

This was bad because he and Allison made up, so he should be satisfied, sort of, but he wasn't because Jackson has faint cuts on the back of his neck that smelled like copper.

He'd been tamping the hell out if his senses around Jackson, or at least trying, but it was all starting to give and now, with Jackson in front of him outside, with the wind blowing so that the smell of strawberries seemed thick and cool in the air, he wanted more than ever to get rid of the foul copper. His senses were on the verge of exploding.

Jackson turned when he felt breath on the back of his neck, but Scott shoved him forward onto his Porsche and pressed himself tight against his back.

"What the fuck McCall!"

"Just shut up."

Scott pulled the collar of Jackson's shirt down and stared at the red marks on Jackson's neck. Jackson tried to push himself up with his hands, but Scott was stronger, and all he managed to do was press himself closer to Scott. He began to feel hot against Jackson, and even though Scott didn't know why he'd pressed Jackson into his car and stared at the marks on his neck, he knew what his senses were egging him toward.

"Jesus Christ what the fuck is it with you freaks just throwing people ar-" Scott flattened his tongue on Jackson's skin and licked a wet stripe from the lowest mark to the one just below his hairline. Jackson yelped and pressed himself backward again; he must have noticed Scott's dick pressing against his ass, because he stilled.

"I swear to God McCall, if that's what I think it is I'll - "

"You'll what?" Scott's voice was hoarse.

Jackson went silent. The marks faded and Scott felt a tightening in his torso that went straight down from his chest, through his stomach, to his cock. Fuck.

He could feel Jackson responding - if Scott were a regular person, he might not've noticed the subtle curving of Jackson's spine, or the frantic beating in his chest, or the way his frame was humming with energy. He pressed his nose forward just behind Jackson's ear. Jackson turned his head in the direction of Scott's nose as Scott ran a hand up from the nape of his neck, over the base of his skull, to the longer hair on the top of his head. His hair was softer than he thought it'd be.

"Scott - listen - I, uh, I don't know what the f - fuck - " In one move Scott pressed his hips harder against Jackson and slipped his arms around his stomach to the waistband of his jeans. He ran his fingers just below the edge of the fabric, across Jackson's pelvis, and then one hand followed the thin line of blonde hair down to the base of Jackson's dick. Jackson was breathing hard with his eyes closed and his face pressed against the car as Scott moved his fingers in the wiry hair, but not fully touching him. He could feel the Jackson was just as excited as he was.

Scott was fully aware that he was in the high school parking lot, but he was also aware that he didn't give a shit. He shoved Jackson around and pressed himself to his front. Jackson's face was flushed, his freckles looking orange against the red, and Scott could feel their erections pressing together.

Jackson smelled even sweeter now, and when he grabbed Scott's face and pulled it to his own, he tasted a little like strawberries. Scott wanted to purr he was so turned on and Jackson's tongue in his mouth was hotter than he thought it was going to be, and the gentle thrust of his hips nearly unbearable.

Scott reached between them and tugged open the buttons and flies of their jeans, and suddenly Scott had Jackson's dick in his hand, and it was hot, and the precum was warm and slick, and Jesus it felt heavy.

"Scott - fuck." Jackson was breathing rough and ragged, just like he did on the field, and when Scott spit in his hand and grabbed them both, Jackson's breath caught in his throat and they moaned in unison. They were kissing all mouth and tongue and teeth and sloppy, and Scott's hand was tight around them both, and his arm was burning from jerking them off, and they were breathing hot and open mouthed, and Jackson was grabbing the sides of his neck and pulling at his hair, and all Scott could smell and all Scott could taste were strawberries. Jackson was letting out high breathy moans and the inner corners of his eyebrows were rising and his mouth was open his eyes clenched tight, and then his face tightened and Scott could feel Jackson's cum on his hand as he let out a final, broken moan.

The noise pulled Scott's body taut like a bow as his orgasm followed Jackson's.

They stood panting in the middle of the parking lot. Jackson's hooded eyes widened as Scott brought his hand to his mouth and licked the cum dripping across his fingers, palm, and forearm.

Scott pulled his thumb out of his mouth and felt suddenly mortified. He coughed and put himself back together, Jackson doing the same, and swiftly walked away.

Scott avoided the hell out of Jackson. He even skipped practice because every time he saw the other teen, he got a raging hard on the definitely didn't have anything to do with Allison, and holy fuck that made him feel bad. He was sitting in his room awash in guilt; Allison had been by earlier to talk about something, and as she sat talking about whatever he wished he'd been listening to, he'd been thinking about Jackson's Adams apple bobbing in his throat when he was trying to swallow back his moans.

She'd left with a smile and Scott had lain back on his bed and set his hands on his ribcage.

He wanted to fuck Jackson. He really, really wanted to fuck Jackson. He groaned and rubbed his hands across his face and back into his hair.

He jumped up from his bed, crept down the stairs and out the front door, and onto his bike. He pedaled to the school in an attempt to burn his energy away, and found himself sitting on the bleachers, staring at the green. He liked it out here at night when it was easier to smell just the cut grass and the pine trees opposite the field. He pushed himself back to sit on the footrest and let his legs hang over the uncomfortable metal seat.

Just as he caught a whiff of something sweet, a figure approached from the locker rooms. Scott's stomach tightened as Jackson approached.

"McCall."

"Last name again?"

Jackson ran his tongue over his upper teeth and asked, "You wanna hang out?"

Scott stared. Hang out? Just as Jackson rolled his eyes and started to walk away, Scott jumped up and said, "Sure."

Jackson turned his head to look behind himself at Scott, but kept walking. Scott thought maybe he'd just fallen asleep at home in his bed and he was only dreaming, but then he was in the passenger seat of Jackson's expensive car, and then he was walking up the front steps of Jackson's expensive house, and then he was in Jackson's expensive bedroom.

It smelled like a fucking strawberry field; Scott felt tipsy.

Jackson was looking at him like he was feeling arrogant and sure of himself, but Scott could feel his heart thumping in his chest. He sucked the strawberry air deep into his lungs and stepped closer to Jackson.

"What are we doing?" Scott's voice was quiet.

Jackson smirked and said, "Well I thought it'd be fun to make friendship bracelets and paint each other's nails."

Scott narrowed his eyes and stared. Scott knew what he wanted - he wanted to throw him down and fuck him until he was cumming dry.

Scott was moving forward again when Jackson's heartbeat suddenly spiked and his smirk dropped. He said, "McCall, you're eyes..."

Scott stopped. He didn't want Jackson to be afraid of him.

"Jackson," Scott said, pushing his hands in his pockets, "what do you want?"

"What?"

Scott took a tentative step. "What do you want me to do?"

Jackson huffed, eyes jumping across Scott's figure.

"I..."

Scott took another few steps, stopping maybe a foot away. "Tell me what you want."

"... I want - "

Jackson was staring at Scott's eyes, and Scott was close enough that he could see yellow in blue.

"Say it."

Scott wasn't nearly as confidant as he was pretending to be, but his only tell was his clenching and unclenching fists, and Jackson was focused on his eyes.

"I want to - I want you to..."

Scott's nose brushed Jackson's; he could count his freckles, every lash framing his eyes, and feel the heat exuding from his body. Scott's chest felt like it might burst, and every frantic pump of his heart seemed to send blood up to his head and down between his legs.

"I want you to fuck me."

They surged toward each other and wrapped themselves together. They pulled off each other's clothes and inch after inch of exposed flesh sent Scott further into a frenzy. He was between Jackson's legs on his bed, kissing his way across his collarbones, following the line south. Jackson gasped when Scott licked his bellybutton and huffed a stuttering breath when Scott nosed the base of his cock.

He was on his forearms and staring at Scott with reverence. Scott stared back and traced a line with his tongue along the underside of the shaft; he pressed Jackson's dick to his stomach, rolled his balls in his hand, and sucked just below his head.

Jackson's knees fell further apart. "Oh shit."

Scott moved his mouth upward until he was sucking fully on the head, breathing heavy through his nose and swallowing down to his fist.

"Oh my fucking god."

He loved making Jackson writhe, loved the way Jackson's back arched upward and his hips pressed downward into the bed. He could do this all night, he could do it until his jaw was throbbing and Jackson was a sated mess of limbs, but Scott wanted inside.

Scott pulled off completely and pushed himself up on his hands and knees. His stared down at Jackson, whose skin was freckled and flushed and prettier than Scott had ever seen it, whose ribcage was expanding and deflating, each rib becoming visible and disappearing again beneath a wall of muscle.

"Scott?"

He looked up at Jackson and smiled, then drew Jackson's legs up until his ass was in the air and his knees were pressed against his shoulders; Scott spread Jackson's asscheeks and held him open and in place. Jackson made a shocked noise of protest and embarrassment, but Scott cut him off with a firm swipe of his tongue from his crack to his balls. Jackson gasped and Scott leaned back a little and stared at Jackson's now wet hole, presented like a birthday present.

He licked his lips and kissed down the center of a cheek to the fluttering ring of muscle. He leaned back again and spit, catching the dribble of liquid and licking it back up.

"Jesus Christ Scott that's fucking disgusting." He was panting and squirming against Scott's tongue. "Oh fuck - " Breathless and moaning, he clutched at the sheets. Scott stayed there as long as he dared, teasing Jackson and soaking in every squirm and jerk and gasp.

He pulled back and asked, "Do you have any lube?" Scott's voice was low and breathy.

Jackson waved in the direction of the bedside table. Scott lowered him back down, pulled open the drawer, and return between Jackson's legs.

"Lift your legs up."

Jackson licked his lips and pulled his knees to his chest. Scott upturned the bottle and squeezed the silky liquid onto Jackson, who jumped at the sudden coldness. He gathered the lube in his fingers and pushed a single digit against him; Jackson's legs trembled and his breath hitched. He pressed his finger in and the grasping, tight heat sent a wave of arousal through his body.

Jackson grunted as Scott worked his middle finger inside his ass; he twisted his palm face up and curled his finger, and did this until Jackson was squirming and panting. Gently, he pushed his index finger in beside his middle finger and continued fucking Jackson with his hand.

Jackson was staring down at Scott's hand with his mouth open, brows low, and eyes wide. As he slowly pushed a third finger beside the rest, he bent forward and put his mouth on a dusty pink nipple. Jackson released a breathy sigh and ran fingers through Scott's hair.

"Fuck Scott."

Scott rolled the nipple with his teeth, Jackson's jaw clenching, and soothed it with his tongue; he kissed across his chest and gave equal attention to the other nipple. Jackson let his head fall back as Scott continued working him open with his fingers and mapping his body with wet kisses.

He pulled his fingers free and looked Jackson in the face.

"Ready?"

"Fuck yes."

Scott smirked and positioned himself. He brushed Jackson's hole with his dick, did it again, and again, and then he slowly began to ease his way inside.

It was hot and wet and tight and fuck how long could he keep this up? These tiny little broken noises were coming out of Jackson's open mouth, and his face was flushed like a pink bouquet, and his blue eyes were wide and a little wet and staring at Scott's slick dick sliding into his ass like he'd never seen anything he wanted as badly and fuck if that didn't send a wave of sweet aching heat between Scott's thighs.

He was surprised at how well Jackson was taking him in – he'd fucking been doing some research, which is to say he'd been jerking off to gay porn like it was keeping him alive – and he'd expected more wincing and more pained groans; but Jackson's face was slack and his eyes were wide and he was letting out these tiny quiet fucks and ohmygods and offuckyeses and Scott wished he could record those little noises and listen to them whenever he wanted.

He pushed and his balls hit the back of Jackson's ass and Jackson's eyes widened as he let out a surprised gasp.

"You okay?"

Jackson gave an imperceptible nod.

As Scott pulled back Jackson gasped again, and as he pushed back in Jackson's head fell back and he let out a startled groan. Scott continued this, trying to be slow and gentle, Jackson's gasps and groans fading and turning into panting moans. It was like a symphony to Scott, and Jackson's heady sent of strawberries was growing gradually stronger and Scott was drunk off it, pushing his hips faster and harder.

"Fuck yeah, Scott, fuck, fuck me – "

Scott grabbed Jackson's thighs and pulled Jackson to him with every forward thrust. Jackson was getting louder, and the bed was beginning to squeak, and Scott was panting, and there was that hot slap of skin against skin, and Scott shifted his hips and Jackson said, "Ohfuckyes there just like that ohfuck ohfuck ohfuck oh fuck oh – "

Scott was thrilled that Jackson was loud – there was nothing in the world, other than strawberries, that turned him on more than some tough guy that got vocal and yelping when he had a dick in his ass. Scott stared at Jackson; his flush had spread from his face down to his neck and was easing its way onto his chest; his eyes were focused were there bodies were pounding together; his mouth was running through clenched teeth ohyesohyes and his eyebrows were drawn up above his nose.

Jackson's head fell back again and he reached down and grabbed Scott's ass. He looked at Scott in the face for a moment, blushing and breathless and looking like a slut, and then his mouth opened and his eyes widened and he said, "I'm gonna fuckin' cum, fuck I – "

He reached for his dick but Scott grabbed both of his hands, bent over and pinned them beside Jackson's head and said, "Yeah? I'm gonna fuck it out of you."

"Holy fuck Scott I can't I fucking can't please – "

"Yes you fucking can!" Scott growled this at Jackson, and Jackson was moaning and breathing hard and desperate and staring at Scott's eyes. Scott could see the reflections of yellow. He grit his teeth and fucked Jackson hard and steady, and Jackson moaned louder still, and then –

"Oh fuck Scott oh fuck keep fucking me don't stop don'tstopsdon'tfucki – OH!" Jackson's body tensed from his face to his curled toes as he tossed his head back and rolled it to the side; his cum shot all the way to his chest and neck and chin, and goddammit Scott loved that. He fucked Jackson through his orgasm, until his body eased back down and his cum stopped spurting out of his dick.

Scott pulled out and hurried his way up Jackson's body; he groaned loud and harsh and jerked himself off until he came over Jackson's chest and neck and face, so that they mixed; Jackson lay there in a daze, panting and licking his lips and coming very slowly down from his high. Scott moved back down Jackson's body. He ran his tongue along his dick, making Jackson's legs twitch, and gradually worked his way back up his body, licking away the wet trails and droplets of cum.

He licked it off of Jackson's face, gathered it in his mouth, and kissed Jackson. Jackson groaned and kissed him back, their cum bitter and slick and hot. He licked his face clean, going back and forth between Jackson's chin and cheeks and mouth.

Scott pecked him on the lips and pushed himself up to stare at Jackson, who stared back.

"Well."

Scott laughed deep from his chest and said, "Yeah." He sat back on his haunches, scratched his thigh, and asked, "What made you want me like that?"

"What, want you to fuck me?"

"Yeah."

Jackson set his hands on his face and said, "Well, I couldn't stop thinking about how you manhandled me in the parking lot." He let his hands drop and said, "And I really like being manhandled."

Scott laughed hard and Jackson asked, "Okay, why you?"

"Oh, um… " Scott scratched the back of his head and said, "You smell like strawberries."

Jackson stared.

Scott shrugged.

"What the fuck McCall – I smell like fucking strawberries?"

"Yeah?"

Jackson threw his hands in the air and said, "I am such fucking cliché – the closeted jock that really just wants to be fucked – and I smell like motherfucking strawberries. Jesus."

"Well, I mean – it paid off in the end, didn't it?"

Jackson laughed under his breath and said, "Yeah, I guess."

Scott stood from the bed and began pushing himself back into his clothes; Jackson walked off to the bathroom. As Scott slipped his feet into his shoes, Jackson stepped out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed.

"So you're leaving."

Scott cleared his throat and said, "Yeah, I gotta go…" He waved his hand in the general direction of wherever what he might've needed to do might've been. "Home. I gotta go home."

Jackson nodded and asked, "Need a ride?"

Scott wanted to say no. He knew this was a one-time thing. "Sure."

Jackson threw some clothes on, and they were in his car, on the road, and at the school, all in silence. Scott was drowning in strawberries, and he could still taste the sweetness in his mouth. He opened the passenger door and stepped out.

"Scott." He paused in shutting the door, opened it, and leaned down to look at Jackson. Jackson ran his tongue over his top row of teeth and said, "You wanna hang out again, sometime?"

Scott felt a bubble of excitement as he thought fuck yes and a tiny amount of anxiety when he thought oh fuck Allison and really, what would he tell her? Whoops I fucked Jackson?

"Yeah that'd be cool."

He watched Jackson force back a smile as he nodded and said, "Cool. See you later."

Scott shut the door and watched him drive off, then meandered over to his bike, glided home, skipped up the stairs, and tumbled into bed. He still smelled like strawberries.