AN: Oh dear, won't this one be a doozy? This chapter is so long. Speaking of long, take it away Scott.

The Next Day

When Stiles opened his eyes the next morning, he didn't realize what was happening. He was in that twilight state where you don't quite recognize whether you're asleep or just moving on to the next scene in a dream. Since he was half-aware, he wondered if he'd peed on himself. Then he thought he was just imagining things. Maybe this was the theme of his dream? By virtue of being the kind of weird and awkward kid all his life, he had embarrassing dreams like that more often than he'd like to admit it. Then it started to register that he was actually hearing noises. Squishing and squelching sounds. Macaroni in a pot was how it was described in a song Stiles had heard. It was fitting.

That thought hit him shortly before he woke up enough to realize that he felt something, too. It was warm and wet on his dick. He definitely wasn't peeing on himself. The fact that he felt something like a tongue made it even more evident. The tongue in question was clumsy, but it was flicking along his length. He felt a warm, enclosed space around the head of his dick. The shaft was where he felt something like a loose grip around it, stroking him softly. That was enough for Stiles' eyes to shoot open. He was almost worried that Jackson had appeared in his bedroom.

The room he was in, he noticed, wasn't his own. That added a little fuel to his panic until he saw that stupid framed picture. It was like the evolution maps of apes slowly turning human. But the final image showed someone strumming a guitar. Stiles remembered telling Scott a dozen times not to buy it because it was stupid. It didn't work. But now his mind worked. At least enough to realize that things couldn't be too frightening if he was in Scott's room. Last night! It came to him that he and Scott drove back to the McCall house in an uneasy and awkward silence last night. Stiles and Scott had fallen asleep on the bed. He noticed he was still on the bed.

But there was still that sensation at his dick, a flick of a tongue along the underside that made him jerk for a moment, moaning a, "daaaaaaaamn." He looked down and saw a pair of brown eyes staring at him. Brown eyes that belonged to-"Scott!"

His friend popped off of his cock quickly, giving a shy smile. "Morning," he tried nervously.

"WHAT?!" Stiles yelled, sitting up quickly. "You do not get to just say 'good morning' after I woke up to you...you...wait. You didn't even add 'good," you just said 'morning,' as if I don't g-"

"Stiles," Scott said. Stiles realized he wound up rambling and sighed.

"What's going on?"

"You..." Scott looked away from Stiles, backing away slightly. "I'm sorry, I should've asked. It's...it's just..." He ran a hand through his hair as he let out a breath. "I...you know that I didn't mean that stuff last night, right?" Stiles finally realized. "I...I would never say that stuff to you. You're my best friend and I don't think...that stuff about yo-"

"Dude, it's chill," Stiles said casually. "If I meant half the stuff I said in that asshat's house, I'd jump off a bridge in shame. It's better that you just said it and got it over with, or he would've been even worse."

"I can't imagine anything worse than that," Scott said shamefully.

"You don't have to," Stiles said. "As soon as you learn to listen to your best friend, it won't happen anymore."

"Sorry, man," Scott said. "It's just...I got so...you know wolf anger is a bitch to deal with."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Stiles said. There was a moment of silence that stretched out. And no one could fill silence like Mieczysław "Stiles" Elizabeth Stilinski. "So...you woke me up with, like, apology...morning head?"

"I..." Scott said. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"No, it's great. Love it." Stiles smiled a little too much. "Surprising, but...I'm pretty fucking horny now."

That seemed to loosen Scott up a little bit, the boy placing his arms on either side of his friend. He was a little lower than Stiles, his face hovering over Stiles' abdomen. The teen leaned down to kiss the pale boy's stomach. "Really?" Scott asked with a smile. "What do you want me to do about it?" He trailed his tongue down, but Stiles pulled him up quickly.

"Fuck me, bro," Scott said, his dick throbbing.

"Sure, I'll just-"

"Just spit on my hole and fuck me," Stiles said desperately.

"Are you..."

"Just do it," Stiles breathed, kissing Scott quickly. "Trust me, dude, I barely even need that anymore."

Scott followed his friend's instructions. Grabbing one of the teen's legs in each hand, he lifted them up. Leaning down, he spat on the pale boy's hole and quickly pulled his legs over his shoulders. He lined his dick up with the other boy's hole and thrust inside slowly. At least until Stiles swung his legs down from Scott's shoulders and wrapped them around the tan boy's waist. He used them to pull Scott's hips forward and his dick further into his hole. "SHIT!" Scott exclaimed as he was pulled into his friend's hole.

"Awwwwww yeaaaaaah, fuuuck yeaaaah," Stiles moaned as he felt Scott's huge dick inside him. He was used to breathing as his hole stretched around a dick by now. Even one as big as Scott's. Especially one as big as Scott's. It barely took any effort for his friend to rub against his prostate since his cock filled him up so completely. "Shit, dude, I don't think I'm gonna last long. You were blowing me and no-FUUUUCK!" He was cut off by a moan when Scott wrapped a hand around his dick, stroking it as he began to thrust into the other boy.

"Good," Scott said roughly. His eyes even took on a slight golden hue as he thrust inside his friend more fiercely. It felt so good Scott's head went flying back as his eyes rolled back in his head. He didn't even noticed Scott had kissed him until he felt the other boy's lips on his and a tongue thrusting into his mouth. "I want you to cum for me Stiles," Scott breathed into his mouth. "Cum for me."

"Dude, dude, dude, duuuude, dude, dude!" Stiles screamed as he came, dick spasming in Scott's hand as cum went flying in the air.

"FUCK!" Scott yelled, teeth finding Stiles' neck. Those sharp teeth on his neck were all Stiles could focus on as he felt his friend cum inside him.

Later in the Day

Stiles had worn a scarf around his neck to school since Scott had breached the skin with his teeth. Thinking about it still made Stiles start to stiffen up. The scarf made him feel like hipster scum...but that's not the primary reason he went into the auditorium to be alone during his latest existential crisis. He'd just gotten a text. Scratch that. String of texts.

Evil Bastard:

Come to my house tonight

Don't wear anything

Sure you'll love that, SLUT

"Dear God, don't popular people have lives?" Stiles breathed. "Can't he do literally anything else?"

He was sitting with his head in his hands, so he didn't notice when the taller boy peeked in the room and noticed him sitting alone. At least not until he approached and said, "hey, man, are you good?"

"AH!" Stiles exclaimed, head shooting up out of his lap. He calmed down a little when he noticed Danny standing over him.

"Sorry, I called your name from the door, but you didn't hear," Danny apologized. He sat down in the row in front of Stiles, turning to look at him. "You were just sitting in here, so I wanted to check on you. But, like, if you just wanted alone time, I can go."

"It's fine," Stiles said. "Alone time is the exact opposite of what I need."

"Stressed?" The other boy asked.

"Stressed doesn't even begin to cover it," Stiles said. "Mortified. Terrified. Horrified. Certified petrified. Every -ied."

Danny giggled. "Dude, I can't believe we never used to talk. You're probably one of the funniest people I know, you should do stand-up."

"You know what they say," Stiles chuckled, "misery breeds comedy." He didn't realize how bleak he sounded until he noticed the silence. But he didn't mind the silence. Danny, apparently did.

"Stiles," the other boy started. "I know...that we, like, hook up and stuff and don't really talk about it. But you can always talk about stuff to me if you want to, I care."

"Uhhhh..." Stiles trailed off, feeling a little bit like an asshole. "Thanks, man."

"But, like, even if all you want is to hook up...that's fine," Danny said. "It's just...I don't mind doing more than just the, like, physical stuff."

That took a second to sink in. But...maybe Jackson was right about him being a slut. NO! No, that douchebag wasn't right about anything. He wouldn't even be right if Stiles was standing on his left. And, now, he needed to stop thinking about him. Which was easy when there was a tall, super handsome guy sitting in front of him. "Well...I mean, the physical stuff would probably help right now. To, like, focus on something else."

"Sure, man," Danny said. He looked around quickly. "Where should we, like, go, though?"

"Here's fine," Stiles said. "No one comes in here until choir rehearsals start after school, that's why I chill here sometimes."

"Secret spot. I dig it," Danny said, slinging his backpack off his shoulder. He climbed over the seats in a way that was kinda hot in the fact that it emphasized how athletic the other boy was. If Stiles tried to do that, he'd probably fall on his face. Speaking of faces, Danny leaned down to grab his and plant a kiss on his lips. Stiles melted into it, surprised Danny's tongue wasn't in his mouth yet. It was just a press of their lips against each other as Danny held his face. When he pulled away, the tan boy said, "can I use my tongue?"

"Sure," Stiles said. Danny's tongue shot into his mouth, rubbing against his own. Danny moaned into the kiss as he got closer, hands trailing down to Stiles' neck and starting to rub at it. It was like a massage along his spine that made the pale boy groan into the kiss, his tongue reaching out to wrap around Danny's. The other boy sucked Stiles' tongue as he pulled away.

"Dude, you're so fucking hot," he breathed.

"Same to you, bro, you..." Stiles reached out to feel Danny's biceps, his jaw almost dropping at how firm they were. "You're...like, these are superhero muscles."

Danny beamed, moaning out a breath as he went to lick at Stiles' neck. Stiles panicked, pulling Danny away by his hair so he wouldn't see the bite mark there. When he noticed Danny's eyes widen, he almost apologized. But Danny threw his head back, grunting. "Shit, man, that's hot." He almost laughed. "When did you get so dominant?"

"Uh..." Stiles decided it would be easier to roll with it. "Since you started looking so sexy. I...I need you on your knees." He didn't expect Danny to do anything but bust out laughing since Stiles' voice got shaky as he said it. But, to his surprise, Danny dropped to his knees. On tile floors while he was wearing shorts. His knees must've been killing him. But he looked up at Stiles with a half-smile.

"Is that all you want, sir," Danny asked, with that smirk still on his face. Stiles didn't even realize he was reaching for the hem of the other boy's shirt until he did it, but Danny helped him take it off and throw it somewhere that was...not blocking the view of the tan, cut, rippling muscles on the other boy.

"Shit," Stiles breathed.

"Can I take off your pants?" Danny asked, hands not moving until Stiles nodded. When he unzipped the pale boy's pants, he gawked at his dick. Stiles wasn't sure why since this wasn't the first time he'd seen it. But, before, Stiles was mostly concerned with making the other boy cum as soon as possible so Jackson wouldn't do something horrible. Now...Danny seemed to be excited about this new dynamic. Stiles wasn't prepared, however, for what he did next. Well, he was prepared for the part where Danny leaned in and grabbed his cock. That was almost a given. But the jock lifted his dick up and put his lips around his-

"WOW! Wow, damn, just wooooow!" Stiles moaned as Danny's lips wrapped around his balls and his tongue cradled them in his mouth. He let out a string of moans as the other boy licked and sucked all over his balls. And...yeah, that was a kind of new sensation to have someone focus on them so much. And...Stiles was starting to feel a tiny bit. "OHHH GOD OOOOHHHH HOOOLY FUCKING SHIIIT!" He groaned out.

"Like that?" Danny asked, reaching up to jack Stiles off as he took a break from sucking the other boy's balls for a second.

"Yeah," Stiles nodded. He just kept nodding and saying that, hoping Danny would get back to it. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah..."

"Am I doing a good job, Stiles?" Danny asked mischievously.

"Totally, man," he was still nodding.

"How good of a job am I doing?" Danny chuckled at Stiles thrusting into his hand. Especially when he put a hand on the back of the tan boy's head gently.

"Dude, if you keep at it, I'm...shit. It feels sooooooooooo..."

"Good?" Danny asked. "Just good?"

"SUCK MY BALLS, BRO!" Stiles yelled, pulling Danny's face closer to his crotch until he saw the other boy open his mouth and suck them. "Fuck yeaaaah," Stiles said. "What? Were yo-DAMN!" He was cut off by a moan when Danny hummed around his balls. "We...were you just trying to get me to get mad?"

Danny nodded, opening his mouth wider so Stiles could see the way his tongue flicked out against his balls. He ran his fingers along his own tongue and reached for the pale boy's nipples, pinching at them. Since they were slicked up with spit, they ran against the nubs smoothly and drew a shout from Stiles.

"Shit, are you still trying to make me mad?" Stiles looked down at Danny. His mouth was wrapped around Stiles' balls and his hand was reaching up to tweak at his nipples. Danny pulled away to stick his fingers in his mouth from his other hand. "Fine then, dude, you can get the wildest version of me." He pulled Danny by the head to guide him onto his dick. Without really knowing what he was doing, he pulled the other boy down until he began to gag. Maybe he was just doing what he thought he should do based off of Jackson's antics. Danny didn't complain, though.

But Stiles wasn't prepared for what happened next. Danny stuck the saliva-slick fingers he'd been sucking on into Stiles' ass, the pale boy moaning out loudly as he enjoyed the stretch. It wasn't long before Danny's prodding discovered his prostate. Damn his long ass fingers. And he was sucking Stiles' dick. And he was playing with Stiles' nipples. Stiles didn't even realize how sensitive his nipples were. But they must've been pretty sensitive because he didn't last long until he cried out, cumming in Danny's mouth.

That Night

Stiles wasn't an idiot. By now, he'd been to Jackson's house enough to know that there was no door on the side entrance. So, he showed up that night...as Jackson insisted in his summons. And he slipped off his clothes to slide them in the backseat. He got out naked...as Jackson insisted in his summons. And he ran around to the back like a bat out of hell the second he parked his car in the front. When he got to the side door, he knocked on it insistently until he noticed Jackson appear on the other side. When he slid open the door, Stiles practically jumped inside.

"Here," Jackson said, approaching Stiles from behind.

"Already?" Stiles backed away as he turned around, posture relaxing when he noticed the other teen was holding a cotton robe.

"Already, what?" Jackson asked obliviously. "Aren't you cold?"

"Oh yeah, you know what would help with that?" Stiles asked sweetly. When Jackson prompted him, he snatched the robe to put it over his shoulders. "Showing up in my clothes, asshole."

He was ready for the dim retort...probably ending with Jackson's favorite word, but it didn't come. Maybe it was too late in the night and he just didn't have that bit of wit left in him? "You're right," he finally said.

"Huh?" Stiles must've been the one whose brain was fried by how late it was.

"I'm not actually awful, I realize that was a dick move," Jackson said, looking kind of ashamed. "I'm sorry, Stiles. I didn't even realize how cold it was until I came down to wait for you and went back up so I could bring down the robe."

"Wait for me?" Stiles checked his phone to make sure there was no text-tirade. "What happened to..." He read a particular Jackson-esque string of texts out loud. "'Where the hell are you slut?' 'Stop driving like a grandma and get here slut' No comma, by the way. 'If that piece of shit truck broke down you better fucking jog here bitch' Once again, no punctuation at all. Or, 'my load is going in your ass whether you like it or-'"

"Fine, fine, I'm awful. I realize," Jackson said. He took a step closer and kissed Stiles on the lips, which...shocking. When he pulled away, Stiles saw those bright blue eyes and...kind of saw how so many girls could fall for the literal demonspawn. It was probably mostly the Porsche and abs, though. "Lemme try to make it up to you, then," Jackson said huskily. When he gave a genuine smile, Stiles was so shocked that he actually followed him up to the jock's bedroom. "Sit wherever you want."

Stiles sat on the bed while Jackson crossed the room to grab something. When he came back, Stiles almost tensed as Jackson got close enough that they could kiss if they wanted. Not that he wanted to, obviously.

"Come on, I'm not gonna bite you," Jackson said. He looked at Stiles' neck and laughed. "Unless you're into that."

"Shut u-uhhhh," Stiles was cut off by something unexpected. Jackson started to lick his nipples. Like tongue circling around and flicking at them, completely unprompted. He tried his hardest not to react so he wouldn't get called...the likely term would be slut. But it didn't come. Jackson just licked and gently bit his nipples. When he started to suck them, Stiles threw his head back and let out a loud moan. "GOD!"

He looked up and Jackson was watching him hungrily. When they locked eyes, the jock smirked as he started to lower himself down. Stiles' eyes widened, wondering how the hell he walked into a Twilight Zone where Jackson Whittemore would ever suck his...no, he wasn't gonna do that. Was he? When Jackson actually leaned closer to Stiles' balls, the brown-eyed boy almost died on the spot. When Stiles looked down, he could almost swear there was a dangerous gleam in the other boy's eyes. "Want me to do it?" Jackson asked.

"Fuck yeah," Stiles breathed.

"Alright," Jackson beamed. Then Stiles felt it before he saw it. He felt a strange, tight sensation at the base of his dick that was like a rubber band. Then he noticed a red...thing at the base of his cock. "Wow, I can't believe you actually fell for that shit," Jackson laughed darkly. "But you act like you think I'm stupid. How dumb can you get?"

"What?" Stiles asked abruptly. "What are you talking abou-AHH!"

Jackson put two fingers inside Stiles' hole, curling them to draw a moan out of the brown-eyed boy. "What? Can't think when you've got fingers up your ass? That's fucking pathetic. But what can I expect? You're such a cockslut you'll let the dog leave your neck like that?"

"Fuck you," Stiles ground out as Jackson kept thrusting his fingers in and out of him.

"Maybe if you beg me, slut."

Here we go, Stiles thought. "Not happening," he said, moaning when Jackson's fingers kept working him.

"We'll see. Y'know," his fingers were still in Stiles' hole while he spoke, "to be fair, I'm really not half as bad as you think I am. I didn't expect for you to go through with things with Scott. You were just supposed to weird him out. I know you were probably so...fucking...desperate...for...his...dick," He glanced Stiles' spot to punctuate every word. "I know you were. You can't help yourself."

Stiles grit his teeth. No way was he enjoying this, no way was he enjoying this, no way was he-

"Shit, you're dick's bouncing all over the place just thinking about it. What did you do that has you twitching and throbbing like that? Did you just hop on his dick before you knew what was happening?" Jackson laughed at him, fingers inching deeper and deeper inside him before he added a third one. "I'm sure I can imagine it. And he'll probably hump anything, won't he? But what was I saying? Oh, right."

"FUUUUUCK," Stiles moaned as the third finger joined the other two. "I FUCKING HATE YOU, ASSHOLE!"

"I can feel how much you hate me," Jackson ran a hand against his dick, which was...astonishingly hard. "You obviously hate me a lot. Now, be a good slut. Stop interrupting me or no fingers." Stiles didn't mean to whine at the idea...but he did. "You weren't supposed to actually hook up with him. You were supposed to freak him out by showing him your slutty side. But you did it. It turns out you're both sluts, aren't you?"

"Do you need me to write down different words for you to use?" Stiles moaned out, hips rocking against Jackson's fingers. "I'm getting pretty tired of hearing 'slut' every other second."

"Doesn't seem like it, to me," Jackson laughed. "But, fine, I'll just call you a pathetic bitch, then. That's what you are, isn't it?"

"Fuck off," Stiles said. Then he whined out as Jackson took the fingers out of his ass. "What the hell?"

"Say it," Jackson ordered.

"Like hell," Stiles spat. Literally. Into his hand. When he reached for his dick, Jackson laughed as he grabbed Stiles' wrists with a hand and brought them above his head. "Let me go."

Jackson got on his knees on the bed right in front of Stiles' face, still holding the other boy's hands over his head. "No," Jackson said, bringing his free hand to his own dick. He started to jack himself off, grunting. "You're gonna say it eventually. You're a pathetic bitch, right? You can't help yourself when a dick's this close." He moaned as he worked himself.

"No...no...no..." Stiles repeated the word like a mantra. He didn't want Jackson to do anything, he...his will was broken by one string of words.

"I wonder how many loads I'll paint on your face before you realize how stupid you're being."

"I'm a slut, I'm a slut. Just...just fuck me, Jackson."

"True," Jackson laughed. "But that's not what I told you to say."

Stiles had never considered jumping off a bridge more than he did that moment. But he said, "I'm...I'm a pathetic bitch, Jackson. Now fuck me."

"Was that so hard?" Jackson asked. The next hour passed in a blur. Stiles knew that Jackson was inside him. And he remembered cumming the second the jock took that stupid ring off him. A lot. And more than once. But, by the time he was in his truck again, he didn't really remember too much other than being too fucked-out to follow things perfectly.