Chapter Text
It's early when Stiles wakes, the sun not yet casting its rays beyond the trees, even though the sky is beginning to lighten in the east. It's a familiar way to wake up, tangled in Scott - who Stiles realizes, with a smile, shifted back to his own form at some point over the night. What's not familiar about this morning (okay, other than the fact that they're snuggled into a bed of dead leaves) is the fact that Scott is very, completely, and utterly naked. Yep, that part is definitely new, even combined as it is with the familiar feeling of Scott drooling quietly on Stiles' shoulder.
Stiles tries not to look as he slides out from under Scott and sits up. He can't see much in the pale morning light, anyway, so at least that'll stop him from staring. He's never been sure exactly when he started looking at Scott in less of a platonic way and more of a holy shit you're gorgeous way, but it's something that's been growing for a while, now. He's sure it doesn't hurt that Scott has been his rock, been his anchor, through the hardest times in Stiles' life. If Stiles was a werewolf, Scott would be his literal anchor, it's a simple fact that everyone knows.
Thinking about this fondly, Stiles slips out of his plaid overshirt and lays it over his sleeping best friend. He smooths it out, soft smile growing wider as the sleeping werewolf settles comfortably under the well-worn fabric, taking a deep breath and inhaling its scent. Something about the scent of Stiles seems to please Scott, and a tiny smile curves his lips even as he sleeps. Doing his best to ignore the way the smile makes his heart flutter, Stiles lays down again and curls protectively, possessively around Scott.
When Stiles wakes again the sun is bright in the sky, and he and Scott are tangled even more completely together. His attempt to preserve Scott's modesty seems to have failed, as the shirt is now underneath them, and Scott is once again bare with the line of his body pressed against Stiles. Their legs are twisted together, arms wrapped around each other, and Scott must be able to tell that Stiles is awake from where he lies with his face pressed against Stiles' neck, against his pulse point, because he speaks up softly.
"Morning," is all he says, voice rusty from disuse and sleep.
Stiles can't help his grin. As much as he'd loved the wolf form, been intrigued by it, he's pleased to have his Scott back the way he likes him best. Not that naked is the way he likes him best, he mentally backpedals, although it is kind of nice. "Morning yourself, Sleeping Beauty. Or is it Beast, as in 'Beauty and the'?" He teases, nuzzling his cheek against Scott's hair.
Scott snorts, and Stiles can practically feel the way he rolls his eyes. "Does that make you Belle, then?" He tosses back easily, nosing against Stiles' neck. Stiles doesn't protest, relishing the affectionate gesture.
"I don't think Belle would have let beast get naked with her in the woods," Stiles laughs, even as part of him wonders if he really should be addressing that.
The answering laugh is easy and warm, though, and Scott's arm actually tightens around his best friend's waist. "Are you offended by my gratuitous nudity, dude?" he muses, although he seems as if he's already guessed what the answer is.
"Gratuitous. Word of the Day?" Stiles snips, tone still affectionate. He finds Scott's determination to learn more, to improve himself, something to be admired. One more reason to love Scott McCall, as if he needed one more. With his dedication and determination, it's no wonder that he would be the True Alpha. "And, no. Surprisingly - or not, whatever - I've actually got no complaints about naked man-snuggles. But where did your clothes end up, anyway?"
"I, uh... I was wearing them," Scott says softly, and with the way his face is still pressed to Stiles' neck, Stiles can feel a blush heating his cheeks. "When I shifted into the wolf form."
"Which, by the way, is really fucking cool, but we'll talk about that in a minute. Your clothes, did they tear off, or something? Like, Hulk-style? Scotty smash?"
At first, only another snort answers him, but he can feel that Scott is still blushing. "They ripped a bit. But the wolf form got all tangled in them, and I had to get to you. So I sort of tore them off. With...with my teeth," he admits.
That's enough to bring Stiles up short, his breath catching in his throat. "You shredded your clothes with your fangs so that you could get to me faster," he repeats, as if trying to clarify. Something about that strikes him as being totally romantic, which probably just goes to show how much running with werewolves has skewed his world view.
"I had to get to you," Scott repeats, more softly this time. Which, of course, is exactly when Stiles notices Scott's thumb rubbing gentle circles into his skin, just below the hem of his shirt. Once he's noticed it, it's all he can feel, and he lies completely still for a moment as he licks his dry lips, tries to catch the breath that's escaped him again.
"You did, Scotty," he finally answers, hearing his voice catch. "you got me. You saved me. I...shit, there's a dead werewolf out there for us to take care of today, isn't there." He lets out a startled laugh when Scott shakes his head emphatically. “There isn’t?”
Scott shakes his head again, but this time it’s more of a nuzzle than anything else. “He’s gone. He’s wounded. He was bleeding everywhere… later today, I’ll get Derek, we’ll track him. Make sure he’s gone. But I really don’t think there’s any way he’s coming back. He was terrified when he ran off, didn’t realize such a young alpha would be such a challenge.” Scott sighs. “He grabbed you to lure me out, but he got more than he bargained for.”
Nodding, Stiles kisses Scott’s hair without really thinking about it. Realizing he's broken the gentle mood of the moment, he decides to press ahead with questions. "Okay, adding ‘track the omega werewolf’ to the mental to-do list. Next question - how the hell were you a wolf? Because that was amazing, but still. What the hell, dude?"
Scott is silent for a long moment, long enough for Stiles to start wondering if maybe he shouldn't have asked that question. He's just opening his mouth to take it back when Scott speaks up again. "I lost control," he says, almost a whisper. "I lost control of the wolf."
Somehow, Stiles can tell that it's not the moment to speak, yet; that Scott needs more time. So he closes his eyes and waits, until Scott continues. "After everything that's happened, Stiles. After everything we saved you from, you were gone, and it was a fucking werewolf. A simple fucking rogue omega snatched you out from under my nose. I was so mad at myself, so scared that I was going to lose you to something I should have prevented. And I lost control. There was anger, and there was pain. And then there was just the wolf, trying to get to you. Willing to tear the world apart to get you back."
The pain in Scott’s voice sends a pang straight to Stiles’ heart, and his arms wrap more tightly around his best friend. He presses his face tightly into the tangled mess of Scott’s hair. “Hey, no. It’s okay, Scotty. You didn’t lose control, not really. Not all the way. Because if you’d lost control, that omega would have been dead. That, that’s what wolves do, what wild animals do. But you were still you. Dorky, honorable, caring Scott McCall, who even as a giant furry, scary wolf still didn’t kill anyone. Still didn’t do anything that couldn’t be recovered from. Still didn’t take a life.” His voice is soft, reassuring, as one hand starts to run up and down Scott’s back.
Scott lets out another soft, pained sound, and squirms as if he’s trying to get even closer to Stiles. “I still had no control over the transformation. I’d never… everything we’ve been through, and this didn’t come out. I don’t know if it’s because I’m more of an alpha now? Or maybe it’s because I was caught off-guard. I didn’t know something bad was coming, I had no way to prepare myself, to steel myself for this, and there I was. A wolf. And I couldn’t change back. I wasn’t me again until I was here with you. Calm, relaxed, and sure that you were safe.”
Stiles can feel himself blushing, overwhelmed again by the thought that Scott’s wolf had emerged to save him, to save Stiles, that now was when that primal side of Scott had chosen to show itself. He lets out a soft sigh, and keeps rubbing Scott’s back. “It wasn’t your fault that any of this happened, you know. Just because it wasn’t some world-ending Buffy-esque Big Bad doesn’t mean that there wasn’t danger, or that you should have been able to see it coming. We were both caught off guard, and that’s still going to happen sometimes.” He pauses, presses another gentle kiss to Scott’s hair, this one more conscious than the last. More deliberate.
“And as for the transformation… we’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out together, Scott, I promise. We’ll work on this, we’ll find your big alpha wolf-y control. It’s in there, Scott. It’s in you. I believe in that… I believe in you.”
As Stiles speaks, his hand slides up Scott’s back, until it’s gently cupping his neck. He uses his thumb to slowly guide Scott’s chin up, dipping his own until they’re face to face, eye to eye. “I believe in you, Scott McCall,” he repeats softly, his eyes wide and his blush growing deeper.
There’s a long moment of silence, of stillness, where it seems like there’s barely a sound in the woods around them. Like the two of them are alone in the world. The moment doesn’t break as they edge closer together, pulled in without thinking about it, like it’s all been leading up to this, to now, to the gentle first touch of lips on lips.
Stiles doesn’t know if he kissed Scott or the other way around, thinks that maybe it wasn’t either. Thinks that maybe the kiss just happened, inevitable, not needing either of them to initiate it. But there it was, Scott’s lips soft even though they were dry, pressing gently, not seeking anything more. And even though it was there in the woods, laying on a bed of twigs and leaves, there was nothing else Stiles could have wanted for their first kiss.
After another few heartbeats, lips still touching, both of them let their eyes open. Scott instantly looks sheepish, cheeks and the tips of his ears colouring. He pulls back in a hurry, as far as the circle of Stiles’s arms will let him.
Feeling his heart sink, Stiles can’t help the soft sound of loss that escapes him. His brow furrows as he looks at his best friend questioningly. “Scotty?” he prompts, softly.
Scott’s eyes snap back to Stiles’, and he opens and closes his mouth a few times. “I’m sorry. I just… you were being so you, he says softly, a smile in his warm brown eyes. “You were the one who was kidnapped, the one who was in danger, but you were comforting me. It should be the other way around, but… but even when I’ve just saved you from dying, you’re taking care of me. It’s…” he pauses, blushes further. “It makes it so easy to love you,” he blurts in a hushed tone.
Before he even realizes it, Stiles is throwing back his head and laughing. Relief and joy course through him, and he laughs harder when he sees how confused Scott looks right now. “Oh my god, and you’re so you. Apologizing because you love me? Complete with blushing and big brown puppy eyes. That’s classic, 100% Scott McCall, right there. Self-sacrificing True Alpha… it makes it so easy to love you.”
There’s another few heartbeats of silence, as both boys process what they’ve just said. Stiles isn’t sure he’d even realized, before now, that it was completely true. That he loved Scott, in so much more than a yeah he’s hot, but he’s my brother way. But it was true. God, it was true, so overwhelmingly true that he didn’t know how the realization hadn’t smacked him in the face earlier. Their kiss of a moment ago hadn’t just been a normal extension of their lifelong physical closeness, it had been an extension of their feelings for each other. As Stiles watches Scott’s face, he can see that he’s processing too, see the surprise and then the gentle smile that cross his features. He barely has time to register how beautiful Scott’s eyes are when they light up with joy before the alpha is on him, kissing Stiles like he’s never been kissed before.
He’s had kisses that have physically taken his breath away. Lydia had proved that when she stopped a panic attack with a press of her lips. But this kiss takes his breath away, in the way that they write songs and poems and stories and movies about. It flutters his stomach and curls his toes and makes his heart race just as surely as it steals the air from his lungs. “Scotty,” he says again, but this time it’s a soft gasp against his best friend’s lips, one that’s instantly swallowed as Scott’s kiss grows more insistent, more demanding. His alpha claiming him with nothing but his lips.
Stiles responds to the claim eagerly, groaning softly as he parts his lips, lets Scott lick into his mouth. He’s seen Scott kiss before, always thought it looked like he put his entire being into every kiss, and now he can confirm it. Scott McCall kisses with every inch of himself, with everything that he’s feeling, and the utter commitment leaves Stiles shaking in the strong embrace. “Scotty.” A third time, and this one is a low groan, hips instinctively rocking up against the boy in his arms.
Scott’s answer is an open-mouthed groan of his own, as he wetly drags his lips up Stiles’ jaw, inch by agonising inch, with a heat that feels like it’s branding Stiles’ skin. He thinks he’ll be able to feel this for days, every touch seared into him, changing him, reminding him that he belongs to Scott. Because he does, he knows that now, as surely as Scott belongs to him. They’re each other’s, they have been for so long now, and this - here - is exactly where they’re meant to be.
Stiles lets go now, no longer holding anything back. Because he doesn't have to, not with Scott, his Scott. He's safe to relax and explore and feel, feel all the things that are washing over him. His arms come up around Scott, hands on his bare back, and that seems to be the cue that Scott needs to crawl on top of Stiles and suck a mark into the skin below his ear.
If he was less distracted, Stiles would probably be embarrassed by the mewling sounds he's making, the way he's writhing underneath the alpha werewolf. But it seems to egg Scott on, encourage him to leave mark after claiming mark in a line down Stiles' neck to his shoulder. And Stiles wants every one of those marks, more of them, in places where the whole world can see them and in places that are just for the two of them.
Scott lets out a throaty laugh. "I think that I can do that," he answers, the sudden gust of breath tickling Stiles' ear.
Stiles grins sheepishly as he realizes that he said all of that out loud. "Yeah? Then get to it, Scotty," he taunts, words trailing off into a groan as Scott starts to slide down toward Stiles' waist, intent on the button of his jeans. "Yeah," he breathes. "Please, get them off. I am so completely overdressed right now. If you need to claw them off, or do the teeth ripping thing-"
"Stiles." Scott's voice is firm, but tinged with amusement as he cuts Stiles off, fingers tugging down the zipper, flicking the button open. "It's okay. I've got fingers this time. No clothing damage necessary." His hands urge Stiles' hips upward, and he slides jeans and underwear down in one motion. "There... Just like that." His voice is breathier now, and Stiles can't help thinking that it's him who's making Scott sound this way, feel this way. It sends a thrill through him that has him laughing along with Scott.
Stiles’ laughter is immediately cut off, though, when he feels that hot breath somewhere different this time, ghosting across his cock. There’s no point in being shy now, not with his hardness showing off just how much Scott is affecting him, so he just groans and rolls his hips up as he looks for more contact, looks for more Scott. “Scotty, please, please,” he gasps, not even sure what he’s asking for, just knowing that he still needs something more, needs everything that Scott is willing to give him.
At the first tentative touch of Scott’s tongue, Stiles feels like he’s going to shake out of his skin, fisting handfuls of the dead leaves that they’re lying in. “Jesus fu- Scott,” he gasps, and there’s another puff of hot air as Scott laughs again. Stiles’ eyes roll back in his head, his own groans echoing in his ears as he gets his first blowjob. From Scott. From Scott McCall, alpha werewolf, and the most gorgeous guy that Stiles has ever seen. Somehow that’s even more unbelievable than even Scott changing into a wolf, and if it wasn’t for the pain of the twigs and rocks digging into his back through his t-shirt, he might even have trouble believing this isn’t a dream.
The sensation of Scott’s lips wrapping around the head stills him, somehow, even the endless parade of thoughts through his mind. It’s like he freezes, in a moment that belongs to him and Scott and no one else. Opening his eyes, he looks down just in time to watch Scott bring one hand up, tanned fingers wrapping around the shaft and giving a gentle stroke, and holy wow it’s taking everything he has not to thrust up into that warm, perfect touch.
“Oh my god, Scotty, you’re pretty good at this for a beginner.” Even as he’s laying panting on the ground, he can’t quite resist teasing. “Never felt anything like this. Big alpha werewolf with his lips stretched wide around my cock, covered in leaves on the forest floor… should have known our first time wouldn’t be anything normal.” He laughs breathlessly, reaching down to sink the fingers of one hand into Scott’s hair.
Scott’s answering chuckle sends vibrations through Stiles’ erection, and draws a loud gasp from his lips. Stiles is already embarrassingly close, just because this is Scott. That knowledge alone is almost enough to drive him over the edge. “Scotty, Scott, Scott, if you’re gonna pull off now is the time. ‘Cause you’re about to get a serious mouthful, I’m not gonna be able to- oh, god!” Because suddenly Scott is sucking harder, sinking down far enough that Stiles can hear a gagging sound and that’s it, he’s done, screaming his best friend’s name into the forest as he shakes through what is absolutely, undoubtedly the best orgasm of his life. A+ orgasm. A perfect 10 from every judge.
Laying panting in the leaves, Stiles smiles weakly as Scott slides up his body to bring their lips back together again. “Okay for my first try?” he asks softly, and Stiles can hear the uncertainty in his tone.
“Oh god, yes, Scotty. So good. The best I’ve ever felt, don’t you worry,” he assures Scott as he starts to scatter kisses all over Scott’s face, finally ending up on his lips. “Just perfect. Perfect.”
Scott lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a purr, leaning into the kisses with a blissed-out smile on his face. “Good… good. You deserve perfect,” he says softly as Stiles showers him in love. After a few moments, their lips find each other again, this kiss slow and lazy. Stiles smiles against Scott’s lips as he feels the cock that’s hard against his hip, Scott’s hips starting to slowly rock forward. He ruts gently until Stiles settles a hand on his ass and starts tugging Scott down, urging him to take more.
“That’s it, take what you need,” Stiles breathes. “If we were at home I’d give you more, I’d give you everything. I’d crawl on my hands and knees, let you open me up and fuck me for real, you know I would.”
This time Scott’s groan is closer to a growl, as he ruts against Stiles harder and faster. “Yeah,” he gasps. “Yeah, I want that. I want to fuck you, Stiles, I want to be the first. I want to take you, I want to claim you, please. Show you just how much I love you, give you all my love.” He’s barely coherent, words coming out in a babbling stream, but they have Stiles’s cheeks heating as he listens to them.
“You’re loving me right now,” Stiles murmurs low, lips moving to Scott’s ear. “You’re always loving me, it’s what you do. And now you can love me all the way, just like I wanted. Exactly like I wanted, buddy, even when I didn’t know I wanted it.” And okay, maybe it’s weird to call Scott ‘buddy’ when they’re like this, but all of the old nicknames still seem appropriate, because it’s still them, Scott and Stiles, Stiles and Scott - just like always, but with added features. Awesome added features, amazing added features, superfreakingfantastic added features, actually, Stiles’ orgasm-addled brain supplies.
But Stiles has other things to think about right now, like Scott getting some awesomeness for himself, so he squeezes Scott’s ass with one hand as he encourages his friend to grind against him harder and faster, listens to the way Scott is panting. “Just like that, Scotty, just like that. You’re perfect, you’re everything. And I know you want to come for me, all over me. Bet your wolf would love that, love the way I’d smell like you.”
There’s an actual, honest-to-god growl from Scott this time, his eyes flashing red as he drives himself toward his orgasm, frantically seeking the release he needs. When Stiles presses one dry finger against his entrance, that’s when the werewolf comes undone, nearly howling as he comes in long stripes up Stiles’ skin, over his ribs. As Scott flops down against Stiles’ side, smearing his own mess all over both of them, Stiles is grinning in something that feels a little (okay, a lot) like triumph. “That was awesome, Scotty my man,” he crows, running a hand down Scott’s arm.
“Definitely awesome,” Scott agrees, playfully running a hand down Stiles’ side as a cover for rubbing his cum into Stiles’ skin, even though they both know exactly what he’s doing. Stiles wouldn’t stop him anyway, he loves the possessiveness behind the action. But when Scott grows quiet, Stiles makes a soft, questioning sound, raising his head.
“Scotty?” He brushes Scott’s hair back in an affectionate gesture. “You okay?”
Scott’s smile is gentle, but Stiles can feel the love in it. “I’m okay. I’m better than okay. You said you love me,” he points out.
“Well, yeah,” Stiles shrugs a bit, the tips of his ears turning pink.
“But you didn’t mean it the same way, did you. You didn’t mean it like your best friend, or your brother… you meant that you love me. I know you did, Stiles, I could feel it. And that’s… it’s perfect, man, it’s completely perfect. It’s perfect because I love you like that too.” His voice is soft, but he doesn’t look away, warm brown eyes intent on Stiles.
Stiles bites his lip, just looking back at Scott for a long moment before he finally nods. “Yeah. I do love you like that, and you loving me back is better than any orgasm you could give me. Seriously. Even though that was the actual best orgasm in the history of my life,” he grins, sounding giddy as he moves his head to nuzzle their noses together.
Scott grins back just as brightly, nuzzling back. “And I’m just getting started. Think how good I’ll be with a little… practice?” By the end of his sentence, he just sounds confused, because Stiles has wriggled out from under him and is grabbing for his clothes. “Stiles? What are you…?”
Holding his hands out to Scott, Stiles makes to tug his friend to his feet. “Practice. We’re going home, Scott, because your mom is at work and we’ve got a lot of practicing to do,” he winks as Scott clambers up as well, laughing. Before Stiles can get dressed, he’s holding out his phone. “Call Derek and tell him that he gets to sniff around for that omega, because you have important pack business to tend to. As important as it gets. Business that only the alpha can take care of.” He waggles his eyebrows.
Rolling his eyes, Scott takes the phone, but he also grabs Stiles’ clothes out of his hands. When Stiles squeaks indignantly, Scott gives him a look. “One of us has to run back into town and get your Jeep or my bike, and I don’t think you want it to be you. So you get to give me your clothes, since I think you’d prefer that to being the one who has to run all the way back into Beacon Hills.”
Stiles huffs as he crosses his arms over his chest, sinking down to sit under the tree again. “Fine. Fine, only because you know how long it would take me to run. But don’t you dare take too long while I’m sitting out here naked and alone, sad and vulnerable, soft and squishy…”
“You’ll be fine.” Scott lifts his head and sniffs the air as he gets dressed, checks the pockets of Stiles’ jeans for his car keys. “No scent of any other wolf, and I won’t be gone long. I promise your alpha will be back to rescue you soon.” He’s gone before Stiles has a chance to speak up, so the human just sighs and shakes his head.
Stiles should probably be annoyed, he thinks to himself, sitting alone and naked in the woods. But his self-preservation instinct has fled in the wake of contentment and giddy excitement, as he leans back against the tree and settles in. Sure, he’s not in the most comfortable spot, but his alpha, his best friend (his boyfriend, maybe?) is headed back to find him- and out of all the times that Stiles has been kidnapped, that Scott McCall has turned up to save the day, this has definitely turned out better than average.
So he sits there to wait. Because Scott will come back for him, Scott will always come back for him. Stiles is ready for the alpha werewolf to make his heart race in all new ways… hopefully considerably less danger-filled ways, this time.