It wasn't Stiles' fault, per se, that everybody thought he was an innocent, virginal teenager. He just didn't correct them when the jokes were made. Not because he was ashamed, really he had only had sex with four people, okay he'd done stuff with others but that couldn't be classed as sex so moving on. It was because of how protective the damn pack were over him. He's not kidding, of course Scott had became a possessive best friend as soon as he became a werewolf, unless Allison was there, obviously. Derek, as the alpha, was immediately cautious of the safety of his entire pack, but Stiles honestly felt like Derek fucking mothered him or something. Isaac, he knew, thought of him as a big brother or something, they had had that talk and Stiles accepted it but come on, Isaac could stop protective him from buses.Erica had previously had a thing for Stiles, so maybe she was just possessive, that didn't stop the fact it creeped Stiles out when she'd loom out of nowhere and stroke his buzzcut. Boyd was probably the slyest of them all, just simple comments and appearances here and there, this is why Boyd was his favourite! Lydia had adopted Stiles has her best gay-friend, although they didn't even know he was bisexual yet, although perhaps they had all smelt it seeing as it was pretty hard to keep an awkward boner from being, well, awkward when topless guys were running about. Jackson would have been the most surprising but, his protective streak would just keep coming, in school nobody was allowed to bully him unless it was Jackson, not that anyone really did. He even snapped at Mr. Harris once when the teacher told Stiles off. Although, the worst of all would be the fact the Sheriff had been brought in to the pack and "Anything you know, honestly anything! You tell me, Derek, son." So, no. Stiles would have chosen not to let them know.
Unfortunately God was not on his side, neither was freakin' Mary or Jesus by the looks of it, could they not have at least tried to persuade God this wasn't a good idea? Stiles, Lydia and Jackson were in town together at the weekend, and Stiles was amazed at how not third-wheelish he felt. He already knew Jackson and Lydia were a no-go, but he hadn't realized it would be this relaxed an outing. "So where are we off to next?" Lydia asked, turning to Stiles as though he were some sort of expert on shops.
"I wouldn't know, I don't often shop for clothes. Is that not why you took me in to town with your freakin' model of an ex-boyfriend?" Jackson's usual glower faltered, giving him time to smirk, taking the backhanded compliment straight to his ego. "To get me better clothes because I've got to say, you's are doing a spiffing job. Really, truly splendid. But are you sure these clothes are me? Everyone knows I wear batman and – and plaid shirts, not black tops and white shirts. It's just not -" Stiles, surprisingly, stopped mid-ramble and stared at somewhere the other two couldn't spot. Jackson could hear the boys pulse speed up, and could pretty much smell the nerves leaking out of him. Lydia, though her senses not as heightened, picked up on it too.
"Stiles, you okay?" She asked, stepping forward gently, her heels clacking on the stone ground. Stiles stumbled backwards, pretty much through his bags at Jackson who only managed to catch them due to werewolf powers and turned in a 180, trying to run away as fast as physically possible.
"Stiles! Stiles Stilinski!" He heard, only making him speed up, barging through the crowd as politely as he could. "Aw c'mon Stiles, tell your bodyguards to let me go."
He faltered and turned hesitantly to see Jackson and Lydia refusing to allow Jake through. Jake being the tall, muscular, blonde guy in the middle of them. Stiles' last shag, to be precise. Brilliant. Also not the first ex-hook up Stiles had ran in to with pack lately. First was Clarissa, with Derek. Then Shaun, with Scott, Boyd and Erica. Liam with Lydia and Jackson, also. There was Nieve with Isaac, and Harry with Derek and Lydia. Lydia must have caught on by now.
Now Jake. "Oh wow, didn't see you there." Stiles lied, and the three of them gave him a sceptical look, until he sighed and came forward until he was face to face with Jake. "Why are you here? I thought you moved back to England the day -" He stopped, glancing nervously at the other two, who's eyes were raised.
"I did, but I came back. Got another job offer, and my Dad paid again. Never thought I would run in to you again, what do you say you come back with me, for old times sake?" As much as the memories with Jake were arousing, he shook his head.
"I'm okay." He said, eyebrow cocked. He knew Lydia and Jackson were staring at him, shocked at his lack of babbling, but he remained eye contact with Jake.
"Don't do seconds?" Jake sneered, seemingly hurt, and Stiles sighed. That wasn't what he had aimed for, he shook his head furiously, before stopping and realizing what that looked like.
"Wait, no, that's not what I -"
"Whatever." Jake walked away, and Stiles groaned, letting out a huff and turning to face his two 'bodyguards', who were staring at him in shock.
"Seconds?" Jackson asked, and he sounded weirdly choked. "That means there had to have been firsts?"
"It's – I mean – he's not – I -" For once, Stiles was stunned to silence, Jackson let out a little choke before spinning on his heels and storming to his car. "You're driving us home." Stiles muttered, without any actual emotion other than defeat.
"So care to explain?" Lydia asked, her perfect eyebrow raised and her pink lips in a pout, her manicured hands on her hips with her slim him cocked to the side. Stiles sighed and explained everything to her. Everything from meeting Shaun when he was fifteen, out in town, getting his number and Stiles' first and second time with the guy, to Clarissa who was his first time with a woman, to Jake, who he had met when illegally in a club and they had got it on in the bathroom.
Stiles sighed at the end, kicking the ground with his sneakers, "Wow." Lydia smirked, "Never knew you had it in you, Stiles."
"I know, I didn't want anybody knowing because you had already made assumptions and I didn't want to ruin all your jokes and your fun. Plus I know how protective you all get, if Jackson is anything to go by." Stiles sighed, his arms flailing.
"Jackson will be fine, he's probably sitting in his car moping."
"Why would he mope?" Stiles huffed, picking his bags up and hoping she was right about him being in his car because damn these bags were heavy.
Lydia smiled at him, in a way that made him think she was possibly craving to kill him, and shrugged her shoulders, leading the way. Thankfully Jackson was in the car, unfortunately for Stiles, the car was not parked far enough away from him not to hear every word of what Stiles told Lydia. Jackson turned to him, watched him put the bags in the boot, but didn't speak to him once the entire way home. He dropped Stiles off and helped carry the bags in to his house, when Stiles tried to talk to him, to explain, well he didn't quite know what, Jackson shrugged him off and left.
Stiles sighed, running a hand through his hair and was weirdly thankful that his Dad was on a night shift and had left already.
Stiles tried to spend an hour or so eating and wasting time on the TV, but eventually he realized he was simply exhausted from the day and went upstairs, stripping off his top and jeans, getting in to bed in just his boxers. He finally had the chance to relax and fall asleep when there was a gust of wind as his window opened, he grunted. "Fuck sake Derek, I'm trying to sleep."
"Was Derek one of them too?" Stiles gasped and his eyes shot open as Jackson spoke. He shook his head but Jackson shut the window and continued. "Did you fuck them here? Or was it at there house? Or in some cheap hotel? Did you fucking beg for it?"
Stiles stared up at the boy in shock, he knew he was an asshole but this was uncalled for. He kicked the duvet off him and stood up, forgetting he was in just his underwear. "What the fuck has gotten in to you?" He snapped, frustrated at the way the boy was treating him. He didn't get an answer however, Jackson glanced down his body and back up to his face before stepping forward too quickly for Stiles to catch on at first. All of a sudden his hands were gripping Stiles hips and his mouth was hovering above the other boys. Stiles inhaled suddenly, which he shouldn't have done seeing as Jackson's scent drove him mad, he didn't need to be a werewolf to know he smelt good.
"J-Jackson?" He gasped, Jackson let out a small noise, one he would later deny was a whine, before pressing his lips firmly against Stiles'. Stiles gasped again, allowing Jackson to slip his tongue in and bring Stiles closer to him. Stiles can still sense Jackson's anger, the kiss is filled with biting and groans from either boy. Their hands tugging at each other and scraping along flesh.
Stiles massages the space between Jackson's shoulder blades, numbly thinking when the hell did his shirt come off? And he successfully managed to relax Jackson, the kiss becoming calmer. Jackson was licking in to his mouth, pushing him down on to the bed gently, hovering over him and pulling his mouth away. He didn't give Stiles time to say anything, though, and immediately began kissing a path down from his mouth to his collar bone, occasionally biting here and there. Finally reaching the boys collar bone, he bit down and sucked gently, leaving a mark that managed to turn them both on more.
He looked in to Stiles' eyes, searching for anything, everything. Finally, he reached back down, let their lips, tongues, breath, meet again as his hand slid down Jackson's ribs. His grip was tight, and he slid down to Stiles boxers, whipping them off quickly, causing Stiles to gasp as his erection was faced with cool air.
Although Jackson could tell Stiles was evidently turned on, he still wrapped his fist around the boys dick and pumped a few times to be sure. Stiles was a writhing mess on the bed, and the sight was causing Jackson's own cock to strain against the material of his jeans. But right now he was focusing on Stiles, so that's what he did.
He watched as Jackson slid slowly down his body and holymotherofshitwhatinthefuc k his tongue flicked the head of Stiles' dick. His sweaty back arched off the bed as a low moan echoed out his mouth, he choked out a groan and a "J-Jackso-fuck." as his mouth slipped down his entire length, taking it all in to his mouth and – fuck – down his throat. He let out a small sob as Jackson began to bob up and down, taking it all in, sucking, grazing and licking.
Stiles' hand gripped the other boys hair and, despite his better judgement, he thrusted in to Jackson's mouth with a groan. Jackson, however, being a fucking pro at everything he does, didn't even flinch. Instead he lifted his hands up to Stiles' balls and stroked them delicately, making Stiles sob, his arm flinging across his face. Jackson slipped off Stiles' cock with a pop, and removed Stiles' arm from his face, taking in his flushed features, blown pupils and puffy lips. Fuck. "I want to see you fall apart." His voice was croaky and it caused Stiles' eyes to roll backwards, "I want to see it – to know I did that."
Stiles nods shakily and Jackson lowers his mouth back on to his erection, sucking another one, two, three times before Stiles arched up wards and let out a cry, a "Jackson! Fuck!" and a tug at his hair to warn him, but it didn't prevent him from continuing and sucking Stiles dry, before rising up and laying next to Stiles, who was attempting to regain his breathe.
"Fuck." he murmured, running a hand through his short hair. "That – that was -"
Jackson couldn't help the smirk as Stiles looked up at him with shocked eyes, before he immediately doubted everything he just did. Who said Stiles even liked him? What if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life? He hadn't originally came here for this, he hadn't even wanted to come here, it just happened and now he regretted it. Well, not really, but he feared Stiles would. Therefore he jumped up and pulled his top back on, heading straight to the window and flinging it open. "Wait, Jackson, I -"
"No, Stiles." His voice was cold and distant.
"What?" Stiles asked, shocked, sitting up straight in his bed. Jackson managed, but only just, to avoid looking anything below Stiles' eyes.
"We're not even friends Stiles, this shouldn't have happened."
And that was the last they saw of each other. Well, for a week or so anyway. Stiles wouldn't sit in the cafeteria at lunch, and when Scott asked he claimed to have a big test coming up that he was studying for in the library. The only true part being that he was in the library.
He would either deliberately get detention or linger in the school for ten or so minutes after school so as not to run in to Jackson outside.
In the only class they had together, with Mr. Harris, he would keep his head down and focus on his work, when Mr. Harris made smart jokes about it he simply smiled and continued working. All the time refusing to look in Jackson's direction, though he could feel the boys gaze.
And of course, he never went to pack meetings. Which was every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday. When it came to the second Thursday he had avoided, everybody knew something was wrong.
"What's Stiles' excuse this time?" Derek asked, turning to Scott, his brows furrowed. Scott, looking thoroughly put out and defeated, shrugged his shoulders dejectedly.
"He didn't even give me one this time? He just told me he wasn't coming and hung up."
"Something's wrong with him." Isaac frowned, staring at the door and Derek could tell he wanted to go see the boy, comfort him and make him smile. "I barely see him in school."
Boyd and Erica nodded in agreement as Scott ran a hand through his hair and Lydia stared at Jackson, who was determinedly staring at the coffee table, his leg shaking and his face pale. "Is it near the time his Mother -" Derek paused, but stared at Scott, who shook his head.
"That's in August, this is May. And even then he doesn't ignore me." He frowns, picking at his top, wishing his best friend would just speak to him. Stiles was so centred on making sure everybody else was safe that he never opened up about himself, and Scott wished he would just for once.
Derek turned to Lydia and noted her gaze on Jackson, he took in the boys features and sent everybody home. Holding Jackson back for a minute. "Whatever you did or said to Stiles, fix it. I don't care what it was, but the pack's falling apart without him, you're falling apart without him. So fix it." And when Derek didn't get an answer he added, "That's an order."
Jackson huffed and stormed out the house, speeding away in his porsche. Derek watched him go and shook his head, it had been evident for months how attracted to each other Jackson and Stiles were. If not to everybody else, it was to Derek anyway. He could smell it a mile off, Jackson only performed well when Stiles was around, Stiles would whip out his best jokes or sarcastic comments when he knew Jackson was in hearing distance. He just wished they would finally work it out, because he meant what he said about Stiles keeping them together.
After driving around town for a while, until he knew the Sheriff would be at work, Jackson parked around the corner from Stiles' house and made his way over. His feet dragged on the concrete and his heart was beating rapidly, he was nervous. Jackson never got nervous. And that was what made him nervous.
After debating window or door, he took a deep breathe and rang the bell. He waited patiently, well sort of, until Stiles finally swung the door open. And brilliant, he was wet. He had water dripping down him and just jogging bottoms, he must have just been out the shower and Jackson groaned inwardly.
Stiles' face immediately dropped when he saw Jackson, "What do you want?"
"To talk." Jackson said, biting down on his lip and looking up through his lashes, a trick that always worked on the ladies, but Stiles snorted, shaking his head.
"You've had a week and a half, you've waited this long?" Stiles raised an eyebrow and Jackson let out a sigh, feeling defeated. He honestly felt sick, he didn't want Stiles to be this angry at him, his wolf was rolling over and whining inside of him. Though Jackson had a little bit more respect for himself than that.
"Can I please come in?" He asked, he could see Stiles hesitate and that broke Jackson's heart. Though the boy eventually let him enter. He walked in slowly, not wanting to make any quick movements to frighten Stiles or anything to get him kicked back out.
He turned and looked at Stiles, who was leaning against his door, watching him. They stared at each other for a few moments, Jackson debating how to start and Stiles waiting for it to occur. "Would you speak already? Is that not what you fucking came here for?"
Jackson flinched at the curse leaving Stiles' mouth, okay Stiles swore a lot and he had heard him cursing often during... well when he pleasured Stiles. But this one was harsh, it was cold, and he just sounded fed up with Jackson, and that in itself hurt.
"I – I'm sorry." He started but Stiles snorted, and Jackson faltered, not sure what to do.
"Sorry for what? For insinuating I was a slut? For telling me we weren't friends when we damn well were? For giving me possibly the best fucking blow job of my life and walking out on me? For breaking my heart? Which one, you've got a pick." Stiles' voice was making Jackson back away, his eyes wide and pleading. He was an asshole, he knew that, he was an asshole by nature, but Stiles looked so hurt.
"All of it?" At Stiles raised eyebrows he took away the question mark. "All of it. Definitely all of it. I – I never knew you felt like that and so – so I ran before I could find out you regretted it. I didn't want to get hurt, and I know that – that's really selfish and I'm sorry and I want another chance." He stopped, talking wasn't his strong point, never mind speaking about emotions. This is why Stiles called him sourwolf part two. Or Derek junior.
Stiles, right now, was looking at him with something akin to frustration and a slight hint of pity. "You walked out on me because you were scared I would reject you?" At Jackson's nod he face-palmed. Genuinely face-palmed. Jackson stared at him as him palm reached his face. Because he face-paled. At Jackson. Jackson didn't know whether to be insulted or relieved he was calm enough to face-palm. "You're an idiot."
"Yeah, I know." Jackson smiled a little, hesitantly. When Stiles smiled back, it was like a giant fucking hurricane had just left his head, taking away the nerves in his stomach. "Can I – Can I please get another chance?"
"To do what?" Stiles asked, nervously. "Do you want this to be an actual thing, or just casual fucking. 'Cause I can't deal with the second one Jackson. Call me a girl or whatever but when I've got genuine feelings for a guy, especially ones as strong as mine for you, then I can't just fuck them casually, it would hurt far too much." At the evidence Stiles genuinely was in to Jackson, he grinned widely and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the boys waist and ducking his head in to his neck, inhaling.
"I want this, us, to be an actual thing. You and me."
"Against the world?" Stiles grinned, and Jackson rolled his eyes, kissing him to shut him up, though Stiles wasn't complaining, in the slightest.