Hello Hopeless Blue Kiss here with a new chapter for you. I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter out; however, I was alerted by a commenter that someone stolen the first chapter of my fic and tweaked it. It was the first Teen Wolf fanfic I had ever done and it was stolen. The copycat is 'Wrong Recipient' by 1424xgaywolf. They had the nerve to say that 'my first time writing so it's probably going to be a little bad…' Ouch. But if you see the publishing date on my fanfic on here and/or on , you can see my work came first. Even my earlier commenters or way before theirs. No nasty comments to that story or mentioning of that story in my comments please. I just want justice done. There are too few Stackson fics and instead of being creative and giving us something new to read, they just rip me off. I fully understand fanfic stories sometimes are similar, but that was not it. I hope you enjoy this fanfic and can't wait to see comments to the new chapters. Your reactions inspire me and I even took down my second chapter to add more.

Needed Me

Chapter Two

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuccckk,' Stiles thought in frustrated panic at his dick acting as his representative while his mind was clearly on vacation. His veins were still throbbing with adrenaline, his fingers still shaking with the need to do something more as his fight or flight responses kicked in.

He should have hung up then and there. His mind circling back to that helpful suggestion of cutting bait and chuck the burner phone he possessed into the woods. There was no evidence but that damnable phone and its seductive pictures tying him to the jock on the phone. But the audible sigh of relief coming from Jackson gave him pause.

"I was afraid we somehow gotten disconnected or this was the wrong number," the jock confessed nervously. His words giving a hint to the vulnerableness and blind faith he had given him by opening himself to a stranger in such a way. It was far from the cocksure, rich, athletic, prick who walked the school hallways as if everyone lived and died by his words. It was a hidden layer that hinted at something much richer and deeper that Stiles and his sudden greedy need to satiate his curiosity wanted to explore thoroughly.

"I would never let a pretty little thing like you feel neglected," Stiles said smoothly settling back against his Jeep's worn cushion. He was surprised he could drip such saccharine sweetness from his lips when he could barely stumble out a greeting to his long-time crush that he had multiple plans to court her with. But he guesses when he was alone and horny with his cellphone full of naughty pictures, he could drip absolute filth like he was a modern-day Cyrano.

Stiles could see Jackson's Porsche across the darkening parking lot. It was clearly visible when all but his own and a few steadfast staff members' vehicles remained. From the photos that was previously sent he could tell that Jackson was holding his private photoshoot and conversation in the boy's locker room, but for how long sent a silent thrill of fear and anticipation roiling in his belly. "I was just pleasantly surprised how much you liked my gift and wanted more like it. I should have known you would be greedy for more. You seem like the type that was just itching to be spoiled,"

"Yes, please spoil me," Jackson whined out needily over the phone.

"Fuck, you're such a greedy, little thing, sweetheart," Stiles said huskily, pleased. He could probably get off to that breathy, desperate voice of Jackson and question his sexuality later. But he had to remind himself that he was in the school's parking lot and public indecency was frowned upon. So, he reluctantly started his car, just as he heard doors silently opening and closing on the other line.

"Always Daddy," purred out Jackson.

Stiles cursed, slamming on his breaks and nearly locking his gears realizing too late that driving and phone sex clearly didn't mix. But he had to leave the school because he could clearly hear Jackson leaving and he was not sure what he would do if he saw the jock right then with his gift properly still on him. He needed to be less horny to think properly enough at what all this meant and he was afraid having Jackson near would fuck him over in more ways than one.

"Is everything okay? Are you sure I didn't call at a bad time?" Jackson sounded genuinely worried as Stiles quickly drove home as quickly as possible, accelerating pass yellow lights to hurry home safely.

"No, baby, never the wrong time to hear your sweet voice," Stiles said huskily. His mouth was going to get him in trouble, running on automatic like this. "I was just surprised you called me that."

"I'm sorry. I… I don't know your name and it kind of slipped out," Jackson mumbled a hasty apology seemingly uncharacteristically meek for his normal brazen persona.

"I'm glad you like it. You can call me Daddy, Baby. I'll answer to anything if it's from you," he continued in his calm, deep timbre. He wondered how long he could keep this up even as he eased into his parking lot, glad for once his dad's squad card wasn't there. He pulled out his house keys and slid into the house to silently walked up the stairs.

"I want to call you Daddy because you took such good care of me. I've always wanted panties like these, but I've never been brave enough to buy them for myself. It makes me feel… makes me feel…" Jackson trailed off on the line, unsure of himself.

"It's okay sweetheart, you can say it," Stiles coaxed gently and patiently. He wanted to know more about the teen behind the mask as he plopped on the side of his bed. This seemed like a moment that shouldn't be rushed.

"It makes me feel pretty and soft," Jackson confessed in a hushed tone, barely above a whisper. It sent a thrill up Stiles spine hearing Jackson's confession at how thoroughly the jock enjoyed his gift. But a large part of him now feel guilty that the teen was taking pleasure in something that was originally not meant for him. So, when Jackson spoke up with a question, Stiles nearly choked on his spit. "How long have you been admiring me, Daddy?"

"Longer than I would like to admit," Stiles confessed. More so admiring the two photos he was already unconsciously sending to his real phone, then what Jackson was probably hoping for. It was like he was floating, disembodied watching everything happening, unable to do anything but let this ride. Stiles muted his phone immediately when he heard his father's police radio going off announcing a need for more manpower to search for the other half of a female jogger in the woods. His honey brown eyes lit with an excitement in push to end things with Jackson to look into this new mystery as he unmuted the call. "I unfortunately have to cut this call short; I have business to attend to. But feel free to text me your size and I'll make sure to purchase something you'll like."

Stiles barely registered the disappointed goodbye the jock rattled off because he was excitedly grabbing his car keys and thundering back down the stairs to grab his best friend and convince him to go looking for a dead body. He needed this distraction right now. Anything to stop the dangerous thoughts of Jackson and him being a thing, especially when liking a guy and Jackson specifically had never been thought about until today.

"No, dead body now. Emotional shitstorm of feelings and questioning sexuality later,' he thought eyes liking with glee at pestering his asthmatic friend and traipsing through the woods at night.

xXx

Jackson couldn't stop smiling for nothing as he whistled all the way to his car. Not even the fact that his secret admirer ended his call early and his parents weren't home, yet again, could bring him down. He now had a Daddy who cared. Called him names like baby, pretty thing, and sweetheart. It made him feel special in a way that no one ever had. It was so exciting, freeing, and new that he could dance in place and squeal in his excitement.

He wanted to take a few pictures for his new Daddy in his bed before he took his panties off to wash them carefully by hand. They were hopefully the first of many of his new lingerie. But he also enjoyed the one thornless rose, box of chocolates and note that Jackson was thinking about lamenting after he took a few pictures of it just in case. He never was truly cherished. At no point did Lydia ever think he might like flowers or sweets. She always had her hands out for jewelry and nights filled with expensive dinners and the Notebook. Never once did he allow him to watch his favorite movie Hoosier.

Jackson grimaced at the name, Lydia, flashing across his screen. He immediately ignored the call not wanting to deal with his ex and her toxicity. She was probably angling for them to get back together so they could be the perfect Barbie and Ken couple. They would remain stuck as fake and picture perfect that he could no longer tolerate pretending he remotely liked someone who valued his status as a star lacrosse Captain than any injuries he may garner pursing a dangerous athletic career like his.

Perfect and plastic, that was what his last relationship was. But this potential new one here, this felt real and grounded. His Daddy had seemed to value him. Whittemore stripped down to his lacy underwear and then pulled out and unfolded the letter carefully, knowing already it will soon be worn out from how many times he would read it now and in the future. He climbed onto the bed, reaching over to turn on his bedside lamp before eagerly rereading the letter on lined paper.

Happy Valentine's Day Beautiful,

The moment I found out that you were single, I needed to shoot my shot before you were scooped up again. I could tell from afar that your previous partner could never satisfy you. You're just as smart as you are a vision to look at. I know you are tired of being called just sexy and hot. Not that it isn't true. But you're more than that. The way you smile, the way you walk, talk, and ooze confidence in the classroom is so sexy to me. Just one moment in your presence and I can take on the whole world.

I want to be there for you. I don't care how wealthy or popular you are. I just want to cherish and take care of you. Kiss every cute, little freckle on your pretty, little face, before ravaging those pouty, soft lips of yours. I know you're strong and independent and that you could do things on your own. But why should you when you could have me to properly support you, cherish you, and cheer you on every accomplishment you make. I've left you a gift and a cellphone with my number to call while you think.

Hoping You Give Us a Chance,

From Your Secret Admirer

Jackson buried his flushed face in the pillow. He had never felt so seen before. No matter how many trophies he had garnered or grades he proudly showed to his parents, they never valued him and made him feel secure. Ever since he discovered he was adopted; he had been on a self-destructive mission to be irreplaceable to them. He didn't crave perfection; he needed perfection in order to remain a Whittemore.

That was why he spent hours after practice, practicing Lacrosse. It was why he made sure to study and never partied before an exam. He had posted his lacrosse schedule in hopes that one time his busy, parents would attend at least one of his games. But they were never there, too busy shmoozing with other rich people to bother. His only support was Lydia and that was only for appearance's sake to look like the doting girlfriend that every guy wanted to be with. Not him. Not anymore.

He felt so appreciated and cherished. Jackson sighed, smiling in sleepy bliss when the next notification to his phone was from his Daddy.

Sweet Dreams, Baby.

And indeed, those dreams felt sweet.

xXx

Jackson woke up feeling warm and content with his life. A large smile blossomed on his lips as his fingers played with the edge of his lace panties hugging his tan hips. The same ones that he forgot to take off last night. It was just a lovely reminder that he was cherished and cared for.

He stretched his arm out to grab his charging cell phone and disconnect it before kicking off the covers with his legs. He then propped himself up took a picture of himself with his hand covering most his face, but his signature smirk on his pouty lips in his morning wood inside the delicate underwear was clearly seen. He glanced at the picture, frowning unsure if it captured him in the right light and snapped another one just in case before sending the best of the two to his Daddy on his personal cell phone. 'Good morning, Daddy. Feel free to call me on my personal cell anytime,' he texted with the explicit picture. He already knew that his Daddy knew what he looked like but was somewhat reluctant to show his face in the pictures in case they fell into the wrong hands.

Jackson couldn't help but anticipate what his secret admirer would write or call back with. It was something shiny and new this relationship of theirs. He wasn't sure what he would call it yet. It was not quite a boyfriend and boyfriend thing. But whatever it was, it was all his and he was reluctant to share the gifts or the fact that he had a male admirer to his best friend Danny. Jackson itched to know what his secret admirer looked like. Probably someone tall, handsome, and strong befitting the title of his 'Daddy'.

'My morning is sweeter now that I've heard from my baby,' was texted back to him.

A shit eating grin blossomed across Jackson's face as he soaked in the praise like a lazy, sprawling cat would soak in the warm rays of an afternoon son. The jock hadn't realized how much of a praise kink he had. Sure, he liked compliments, just like anyone else. But his Daddy managed to scratch an itch in places didn't realize needed scratching. It released in him happy little dopamine in his wake, making him crave more like it was a physical touch.

'Time to start the day,' Jackson thought to himself. He reluctantly took of his panties and folded them carefully in his sock drawer to be washed carefully later. Little did he know the start of his cheerful day would be ruined by the immediate threat that was in the shape of one Scott McCall.

The Captain of the Lacrosse team didn't realize that his happy buzz would be ruined a few hours later after school, on the lacrosse field during the 'redemption' tryouts for the second half of the year to rope in late-bloomers and trim the fat. That shit-stain McCall managed to outperform Jackson on the field and reduced his position as captain of the lacrosse team to co-captain while laying him flat on his ass at one point.

He knew that shit-stain of an excuse for a human couldn't have performed the feats he did on the field without some performance enhancements drugs being involved. The way he leapt, run and swung the lacrosse stick was miraculous to say the least and had Coach Finstock whooping and hollering and ways he never did for him at his best. He glared venomously as their teammates patted the newly dubbed Co-Captain, McCall on the back.

Jackson was beyond pissed off and not even cornering and threatening McCall to tell him where he got his steroids from made him feel better. Especially when the idiot looked so stupidly confused as if drugs wasn't the right conclusion to come to when days ago, the teen couldn't tell his left from his right. His breath wheezing pathetically from the asthma that everyone on the team knew he had, the way he pathetically clutched at his inhaler, up until now. If it wasn't drugs, then what could it have been? He had picked up McCall's torn lacrosse glove, but couldn't imagine anything natural making those kind of holes.

Jackson couldn't even recall when he got in his car and drove right home. All he knew was that he was this stressed out and frustrated, he knew who he needed to call and it wasn't Danny. He barely undone his seatbelt before he had his secret admirer on speed dial, his hands slamming the car door close even as he quickly entered his always empty home.

"Hey Daddy… I… I'm sorry if this is the wrong time to call you, but I need you right now. I please call ba—" Jackson began frantically, sadden he had gotten an answering machine before the phone suddenly connected to a person.

"What's wrong with my baby boy? You sound distressed," the gruff, but smooth voice, enveloped Jackson in its warm embrace. The relief was palpable, almost making Jackson boneless with finding the one person who genuinely recognized him and had yet to disappoint him like so many had.

"It's all that fucking McCall's fault. He stole my position as Captain and now I'm just a damn Co-Captain. What the fuck even is that? Coach Finstock can't think that some asthmatic loser could just perform that well and drugs not be a factor," Jackson started to rant. He stomped into the spacious kitchen and heated himself one of the many prepared dishes their cooks made, seeing as none of his parents ever cooked him a homemade meal since he could remember. He glowered at the microwave, wishing it would cook faster, his hazy reflection glaring back at him and his crossed arms.

"It'll be okay sweetheart. I know you're the best athlete on the field and the Coach will realize that again too. You know your Coach is eccentric and besides, you deserve some competition to make the sport interesting again. Maybe this McCall guy will challenge you in a good way," the older male voice coaxed him gently.

"Yeah, I guess…" Jackson admitted reluctantly, his hip leaning back against the kitchen island. He felt so embarrassed getting so riled up and petulant around his crush. But his 'Daddy' was the only one, outside of Danny, that he could think of to properly vent to. It honestly wasn't the words he wanted to hear, but he had to begrudgingly agree that he was at times going through the motions of playing lacrosse just to accomplish his bigger goal of getting the fuck out of this godforsaken town.

"Now what really made you upset?" the voice asked in a sympathetic, but cajoling tone.

Jackson laughed wetly, tears burning and trickling behind his lids even to the sound of the beeps of the microwave announcing his food was ready. He pressed his fingers against his eyes, throat thickening on a muffled sob before he finally spoke up. "Fuck… uh… Lacrosse is something I'm good at. I've practiced and perfected it enough that it's a part of me. It's my kingdom. My domain where I can show I am 'the best'. I can't let some usurper who barely even practices, show me up and knock me off my throne. If I ever want to get out of this hellhole of Beacon Hill, I can't just be smart, or pretty, or rich. I have to show recruiters how all around good I am, Daddy. That was why I was the Captain of the Swim Team and Lacrosse. That's also why I help at the soup kitchens on Sundays and make sure to study hard so I get top scores in all my classes so people like Mr. Harris will give me a glowing recommendation. I need to show that I belong so not only the college recruiters will want me, but my parents as well," he confessed softly at the end.

"Aww, sweetheart, I can't believe your family wouldn't want someone like you. I've told you before how brilliant and clever you are," Jackson's secret admirer reassured. "Not to mention gorgeous and talented. There is a reason you are popular and it's not just because you drive the nicest cars and designer clothes," he teased in hopes of getting the jock to smile.

Jackson did smile a little, even if it was tinged in sadness. He wished that his Daddy was here right now to wrap him up in his arms and share his meal, instead of him being by himself in this cavernous home.

"Thank You Daddy," he said softly at the compliment. All it took was a few words from him and he was fighting back a smile and the butterflies that he could feel knocking around in his abdomen. The jock had never felt so cherished and heard even when he was all but sure his day was going to end in misery and self-doubt. There was no need to perform and be the popular jock that used the looks, that came from parents he didn't know; and money, that he lucked into having, when he was adopted into the Whittemore family. He could vent without judgement and not have to owe his admirer anything back if he so chose. Not that his friend Danny judged him, he was his best friend for a reason, but its different opening to someone he was starting to like in that way.

Jackson grabbed his food and walked slowly up the stairs, no longer angry. "You might see that. But I'm not sure even that's enough for my parents. They never show up at my lacrosse games. They barely attend parent/teacher conferences let alone any other school events Beacon High might have. If I didn't look at my driver's license I wouldn't know if I was even a Whittemore. It's like ever since I found out I was adopted, I feel so… so… I can't believe I'm even telling you any of this. You must think I'm just some whiny, pathetic, rich kid talking about first world problems to a fucking stalker, probably old enough to be my actual dad if not older," Jackson said self-deprecatingly.

"All your feelings are valid baby. I am a stranger and here you are opening up to me all nice and sweet without me prompting. I haven't revealed anything about myself except my adoration for you. But please do not misunderstand, I'm not just some stalker, but someone who genuinely cares about you. I'll admit I didn't know how much or that you were hurting. But I want to be there for you—" the secret admirer began before he was cut off.

"Then be there for me now. I wanna see you," Jackson confessed, unbidden. "I… shit… sorry. But I just want to be fucking held right now and I can't cause you're not here. I wouldn't even know your face in the crowd unless you decide to reveal yourself and I don't like that. I want to know you as much as I want you to know me," the jock demanded beseechingly setting himself and his food at his desk to eat.

"Fuck baby don't be upset with me. I want to hold you too baby boy and give you all the love and support you deserve. But now is not the time. Just soon. Be patient like I know you can, and we will be together. I want to make sure I properly earn your trust. I know I confessed to you when you were already vulnerable, and I don't want to take advantage of you now that you are starting to reciprocate my feelings. I'm sure your friend Danny would think we were moving too fast if he knew how much trust you have given me already," the male over the phone cautioned.

That wasn't what Jackson wanted to hear right now. He pouted down at his cell phone, wanting to curse in protest, but instead shoved a warmed piece of penne and chicken parmesan in his mouth so as not to drive his admirer away. He already revealed too much to the man and he knew his Daddy was right. He shouldn't be blindly trust someone like some thirsty bitch ready to drop her panties the moment someone compliments him. But it's the fact that his Daddy cared enough to even point out the blaring warning signs, that made him want him to trust him more.

"Distract me then," Jackson demanded petulantly, taking a savage bite of chicken. If he couldn't have the man with him, then he'd go for the next best thing.

"And how does my boy want to be distracted?" his Daddy said in amusement.

"I don't know… surprise me," Jackson said with a playful smirk.

"Brat," the older man chuckled in amusement. "You want me to help you sweat out another way after practice?"

"Yes, Daddy," moaned out Jackson.

He scraped his chair back to eagerly lay on his bed. He was half tempted to put back on his panties but hadn't had time to handwash them yet. So, he made due with what he had on, shimmying out of his pants and nearly knocking his phone over in his eagerness to take off his shirt.

"Fuck, you sound so good calling me that," his Daddy confessed. "You're not wearing the present I gave you, are you?" he asked teasingly.

"No, just the jockstrap," Jackson confessed, looking down at his trapped dick straining in the pouch of his jockstrap.

"Yeah, that could work," the older male said. There was a brief, pregnant pause before a notification popped up on Jackson's phone. "I've sent you a picture to get you motivated."

Quickly, Jackson fumbled to slide his phone away from his shoulder to look hungrily at his secret admirer only to see a short video of long, capable fingers stroking a girthy, long dick that was pulled out over dark grey sweatpants. It wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to see the man's face. But it was what he needed now as he put his Daddy on hold to stroke his own dick in the same tempo of the man on the video. He could honestly watch that video repeatedly, despite it being poorly lit and slightly grainy. It was his first dick pic/video. The breathy groan of 'Jackson' was enough of an ego boost for the horny teen to want to rewind just that part alone to watch repeatedly until he received another call.

Jackson was going to ignore it in favor of watching the thirty second video for the fifth time, when he saw it was his Daddy on the phone after being put on hold for almost two minutes.

"Jackson, sweetheart, I know my dick is pretty and distracting, but I need you to be a good boy and get on all fours. Present that pretty ass for me and show me how you'd like me to take you," the man said, speaking utter filth after chuckling in admonishment.

"I'm sorry Daddy," Jackson moaned out his apology, ears and cheeks redden in embarrassment for leaving his secret admirer on hold. He clumsily rolled over kicking the rest of his pants that had bunched up at his thighs, all the way down and off. Then arched his back, his chest kissing the sheets before snapping a picture of a tanned ass perfectly framed by the white straps of his jockstrap. A hand pulling one plump cheek back to show his hungry hole. His flushed face buried halfway in a pillow as he took the shot. It was too much and too little all at the same time, but it was all for his Daddy.

"Such an eager little boy you are and so sweet to apologize without prompting. Are you too shy to let Daddy see your pretty face? Or are you worried I would proudly show how fucking gorgeous and needy you are to the whole world?" the man said huskily on the phone causing Jackson to moan wantonly and nod his head blindly 'yes' as if the man could somehow see it. "It's okay. I don't blame you. But fuck babe, I didn't realize how much I wanted to fuck you while you wore that jockstrap until just this moment," the man confessed.

Jackson hadn't wanted to touch his dick quite yet, wanting to deny himself until his Daddy told him it was okay to do so. But he couldn't listen to that utter filth and not do anything as he quick began to stroke his aching cock.

"Such a naughty boy, touching yourself to your Daddy's words. Did you fuck yourself to sleep last night or did you wait for Daddy to take care of you today like a good little boy," the man purred out in a low velvety tone.

"I… w… waited like a good boy," Jackson gasped, his phone on speaker the moment his Daddy called him back. He paused long enough to grab his lube from the top drawer, reveling in the smoother glide that just cum and spit alone couldn't give him. Moving his hand faster, he let his other hand slip between his legs, just teasing his fingers along his ass. It wasn't something he got to do often because he had spent the beginning part of his teens trying to convince himself that he wasn't gay. Then another large part convinced that he was a top and dominant when he was really a needy bottom that just wanted to be taken care of.

"That's why you're my favorite, pretty little thing. How eager you are to please your Daddy? Fuck, I can hear your filthy little whimpers, are you opening yourself up for Daddy to take you for a spin?" he murmured hotly. The sound of him jacking off too, clearly heard on the other line.

"Fuck yes Daddy, I want you to take me. Wish you were the one opening me up now," Jackson jabbered on nakedly honest as his scissored himself with his lubed fingers. It wasn't enough, could never be enough when there was an eager, willing, warm body that wanted him just as openly as he wanted them. He sucked in his bottom lip to stopper a whimper as tears of frustration began to leak at being so close and yet so far from someone wanted to cherish him, but couldn't be here in that moment.

"Oh sweetheart, I didn't mean to make you cry. I only want you to feel good. Do you want us to stop? I don't want to hurt you," the man began, a little panicked, his voice pitched higher than normal. It was almost familiar, but he was too lost in his lust and need for Jackso to pinpoint it.

"Please… Don't, Daddy I just want you here. I don't want you to stop," whined out Jackson needily. He already knew that his Daddy couldn't come to him now. He knew that before they started this, but it didn't stop his frustration or the tears as he continued to stroke himself, imagining a man he had never seen before. He had no point of reference besides a dick and a slim hand. He could be tall or short, pale or tan, Jackson didn't know and it was frustrating. But not as frustrating as being left when he was so close.

"I'd never leave you sweetheart. You're all mine now. Let Daddy take care of you," the male soothed before beginning to take him apart again with his words.

Jackson sped his hand up, gasping, getting close to the edge as he allowed his Daddy to describe what he would do if he was there. How he would shower him in kisses and mark every part of him so that everyone would know who's boy he was. Jackson openly sobbed as he finally reached his peak after finding and hammering his special spot at the order of his Daddy until the jock was just a jabbering mess of cum and tears.

His Daddy waited until Jackson had caught his breath, his body still buzzing with endorphins before breathing a soft, "Goodnight sweetheart." It was as if he known the jock would be do tired to do nothing more than rest and wanted to end their conversation on a sweet note.

Then after a few tries from suddenly parched lips, Jackson drowsily managed to say "Goodnight Daddy." Then fell into peaceful slumber.

xXx

Scott had been acting particularly squirrely in the last few days since they had been to the woods. Stiles had apologized profusely for leaving his best friend out in the woods, but he was afraid of getting his friend in more trouble if he revealed to his dad that it wasn't just him traipsing through the woods for a dead body. But he could clearly see that his sweetheart of a best friend was dealing with something major beyond just being bitten by a 'wolf' that shouldn't exist in California. The fact that his asthmatic friend not only did not need an inhaler, despite him huffing and puffin as he simply walked through the woods, but could pull off aerobatic trips, had Stiles on high alert and searching the internet.

He was carefully looking up wolf bites and superpowers, only drawing up werewolf links in the process, while also looking at frilly, cute underwear that Jackson Whittemore would like in another window. He was such an amazing multitasker and just because his best friend was clearly some kind of freakish superhero with a wolf bite instead of a spider bite didn't stop the fact that he still had illicit pictures and calls from Jackson Whittemore almost daily.

Stiles rubbed one out too many times and talked sweet nothings into the jocks ear to lie to himself and think that he wasn't at least bisexual. He still liked the softness and appearance of girls like Lydia, but he couldn't help that he wasn't repulsed by the idea of masculine jock like Whittemore being into him. Or at least the 'Daddy' persona that he openly revealed his vulnerable self too. So, okay Stiles caved on the fact that he may be bi or at least bi-curious and had tested this new theory by openly flirting with the; resident gay; Danny to see if his gaydar would ring or something. Nothing. He just brushed it off like anything Stiles may have said. Which admittedly he did openly pretend to flirt with his best friend Scott on occasion in front of Danny, and Scott was firmly just a best friend and a brother to him.

So, Stiles was at least entertaining he might just like Jackson Whittemore. Or at least he liked the needy, vulnerable version that called him and pestered him for compliments or just to talk and reassure him. It had almost become a nightly ritual to call a little after 7. Sometimes he would listen to his bully gripe about him dealing with his breakup and how manipulative Lydia was trying to be by painting herself as a victim when she clearly cheated on him. Or how he didn't know who in his friend group was truly a friend or just a follower who would abandon him if they saw the real him. The him who liked nerdy things like comic books and superhero films or like to be soft and called pretty on the phone. Lately had been complaining about how Scott McCall had to be on some kind of steroids or something for a loser like him to steal the show and win the game for him. Stiles tried to comfort the upset Jock as best he could even while carefully not trying to say anything mean about his best friend.

Stiles was playing a dangerous game here and he knew it. Again and again he knew he needed to end things and delete the pictures and get rid of the phone. But what would Jackson say or do if he knew that his 'Daddy' was him? A loser who currently had Batman sheets under his gray comforter. That had superhero, Star Wars, and Lord of the Ring memorabilia all around the room. Jackson may have confessed to like nerd things, but would he really risk giving up his popularity to be with a nerd like him? It was doubtful. Not someone who was perpetually broke and had mistakenly put a love confession and gifts in the wrong locker. How do you even go about properly telling someone that you weren't the person I wanted, but now that you revealed all your dark secrets I kind of like you now? You just don't. It was all going to end in disaster and the genius knew it.

The teen grounded his teeth in his frustration even as he added different panties into the online cart. He found a nice little website that specialized in men's panties so that Jackson could wear them for longer and at school if he wanted to without squishing the boys. He even threw in a bralette or two, a teddy, and a nice pairing of stockings. His dick hardening at the thought of Jackson in a teddy, posed on the bed for him. Delicate lace on hard, muscular planes. He groaned, using his precious Jeep money to buy the expensive scraps of cloth before diving back into Scott's strange behavior. He had stacks up books that he poured over and print outs, but it was clear that Scott was a werewolf. There was no other explanation why such a vicious bite from the picture his friend had shown, could heal completely or how Scott could be almost better at Jackson at sports.

He nearly toppled over his computer chair when his best friend came into his bedroom, excitedly talking about preparing for a date with Allison. But Stiles was determined to tell Scott the horrible truth. He breezed past the dead body or the mysterious Derek Hale. That his best friend was a werewolf and was too dangerous to be around people. He tried to tick off the reasons that Scott was a werewolf.

"Remember the joke from the other day? Not a joke anymore," he began tentatively. Then when Scott didn't say anything. "The wolf. The bite in the woods. I started doing all this reading." Stiles abruptly stood up, his Adderall having him overly focused on the task at hand. "Do you even know why a wolf howls?"

"Should I?" Scott asked, puzzled and worried from his seat on Stiles bed.

"It's a signal, okay? When a wolf's alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So, if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby. Maybe even a whole pack of them," he continued to explain, knowing he was losing his friend fast.

"A whole pack of wolves?" Scott thought, remembering his best friend said a few days ago there hadn't been wolves in California for over sixty years.

"No, werewolves," Stiles said seriously.

"Are you seriously wasting my time with this?!" Scott exploded, standing up from the bed. "You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour.

"I saw you on the field today, Scott. O…Okay, what you did wasn't just amazing, all right? It was impossible," he chuckled nervously at the end, surprised his dense friend couldn't understand that this was serious.

"Yeah, so I made a good shot," Scott said, trying to downplay it.

Stiles, rested his hand on Scott's chest to give him pause before he left out the door. "No, you made an incredible shot. I mean, the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes. People just can't suddenly do that overnight. And there's the vision and the senses, and don't even think I don't notice that you don't need your inhaler anymore," Stiles continued to rant to drive home the point Scott was a werewolf.

"Okay! Dude, I can't think about this now. We'll talk tomorrow," Scott said, trying to end the conversation to get ready for his date.

"Tomorrow? What? No! The full moon's tonight. Don't you get it?

"What are you trying to do? I just made first line. I got a date with a girl that I can't believe wants to go out with me. Everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?"

"I'm trying to help. You're cursed Scott. You know, and it's not just the moon will cause you to physically change. It also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak.

"Bloodlust?

"Yeah, your urge to kill…" Stiles said, sitting in his computer chair and launched into a spiel about the dangers of being a werewolf. He then thought to cancel Scott's date with Allison to secure her safety from a newly man werewolf only to be tossed against his own wall by his best friend. He was shaken by how his usually docile friend was on the verge of punching him before he stopped and tossed his computer chair down. He was shaken and even after Scott left with a lame apology, he was unsurprised to see the back of his chair ruined by claw marks. He just hoped Jackson was safe out there considering Scott and him were rivals and Scott now had a short fuse.

Invited or not, Stiles had to go to Lydia's party to make sure the ones he cared about were safe. He dressed as formly as he could preparing for the worst, but hoping for the best, as he placed a metal bat in his jeep for 'just in case'. Then drove off, texting Jackson, who he knew would be at the part, 'Be safe sweetheart and stay close to Danny.'

God, this was not the time for a teenage romance.