Title: Pretty
Pairing: Stiles and Jackson
Genre: Romance
Rating: M
Summary: But Stiles couldn't deny Jackson had a pretty cock.
Jackson was passed out, slumped against the van and being held up by Scott and Stiles. He was also very naked.
"Dude, we need to put some clothes on him." Scott looked at Stiles expectantly. "Dude, no!" Stiles whined. Scott unleashed what Stiles liked to call his 'puppy-dog eyes'. "No. No, no, no. Not looking at you, I'm not looking at you." Stiles chanted, closing his eyes tightly. He knew exactly what Scott was trying to do and there was no way in Hell he was getting that close to Jacksons' dick.
Ten minutes later Stiles was on his knees, trying to figure out how he was going to do this. In one hand held the pants indented for Jackson, the other was in his hair. Stupid werewolf powers, he grumbled to himself. Never play rock, paper, and scissors against a werewolf. Not realising he was speaking aloud till Scott's laughter filled his ears from his position outside the van. He was keeping watch, like a guard dog. Stiles smirked inwardly at the dog joke and opened his mouth to voice it but Jackson chose that moment to shift slightly, opening his legs as if to taunt Stiles. Bastard.
It was the first time Stiles had seen Jacksons' cock up close and he was startled at home… pretty it was. His cock wasn't hard; it lay flaccid between his legs and with the position he was the purple, bell shaped head was pointing at him. There wasn't much hair, just a small patch around the base. It was quite neat. It was easily 6 inches, but Stiles knew from hearing Lydia bragging to her friends that he was bigger when erect.
Hazel eyes followed the veins that decorated the tanned cock (Stiles wasn't surprised at that, Jackson probably walked around naked all the time. Show off.) Some of the veins were barely visible, while other were clear and Stiles licked his lips suddenly overcome to lick those veins and trace them with his tongue, tasting Jackson.
Stiles knew he wasn't fully straight; bi-curious if he were to label himself. But never had he ever thought about Jackson in a sexy way. Sure, he knew Jackson was good looking, you'd have to be blind deaf and dumb not to notice but most of Sties' thoughts of Jackson consisted of a variety of swear words and fantasies of death. Does this mean he liked Jackson now? No, Stiles reasoned. There's still hatred there, just now he wouldn't mind having Jackson put his pretty cock in his mouth and blow him till he came all over Stiles' face. That's normal. Yeah, totally normal. Stiles snorted.
"Stiles! Hurry up, he's going to wake up soon!" Scott bellowed, banging twice on the door. Shit. Stiles had gotten so caught up staring at Jacksons' junk he'd forgotten what he was supposed to do. Tugging the pants up and over the boy quickly, Stiles fumbled with the zipper. Please don't wake up. Please don't wake up. Finally, the zip was up and the fly buttoned. Stiles did a quick fist bump of victory before stepping out the van.
"It's done," he said lowly, rubbing his hands together evilly. Scott gave him a strange look before shaking his head.
"You're so weird." His only reply was a so what, bitch? Look from Stiles. "I got you a sandwhich."Scott said, tossing two his way.
"Aww, that's so sweet. Are they both for me?"
"One is for Jackson. Duh." Stiles pouted.
Jackson chose that moment to wake up, yelling their names as loud as he could. In the van, said boy was ready to strangle someone. Which is what he attempted to do what Stiles climbed into the van. After hearing that Stiles had put the pants on him, he smirked. Oh, this could be fun.
"Get a good look did you, Stiles?" the tanned boy taunted, laughing at Stiles' reddening cheeks. "Did you enjoy it?" Stiles spluttered, trying to come up with some witty to say or just anything at all. Luckily, Scott opened the door at that moment and dragged Sties out.
Hours later, in the police station Jackson sat, signature smirk in place. Ideas flooded his head, ideas to taunt Stiles, maybe even blackmail him. Oh, yes.