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It’s the first time they’ve done this and Stiles is… hesitant. He’s trembling a little, like he does when he’s torn between excited and nervous. It’s the same kind of tremble Scott felt the first time he kissed him, the first time Stiles asked Can I, sliding a shaking hand down his stomach.
Stiles is on his hands and knees where Scott put him and Scott can see the fine tremors in the lithe muscles of his back. He splays a hand on Stiles’ flank and Stiles twitches.
“Shhh,” Scott murmurs, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“Just come on, just-“ Stiles’ words break off with a sharp inhale when Scott drops a kiss on the dimples on his back, one after the other.
Stiles skin is warm under his hands. Soft. He palms Stiles’ cheeks for a second before he pulls him open.
It’s not the first time Scott has seen Stiles like this, but it’s the first time Scott has really taken the time to look. His hole is darker than the pale skin of his ass, just this delicate little furl. When Stiles had suggested they do this, Scott really hadn’t felt strongly either way about it. It was something new to try, but he’d hardly thought about it before now.
Looking at Stiles now, the soft bow of his spine leading down to this dark hidden place, Scott feels his mouth water. He wants to taste him. He wants to take Stiles apart.
He presses a kiss to the pucker and Stiles jerks forward then back.
“Sorry, Sorry,” Stiles bites out. He’s trembling even harder, his heartbeat erratic.
Scott kisses him again. Stiles doesn’t startle as much this time, his head dropping down between his shoulders. Scott smoothes his hands over his hips trying to calm him, but he doesn’t pull back. Instead he flattens his tongue and drags it over Stiles’ hole.
Stiles jerk so hard he bangs his forehead into the headboard.
“I’m good! I’m good,” Stiles says, his voice high, before Scott can ask. “I’m fine, just-“
Scott dives back in before he can finish. He’d only gotten the smallest taste and he wants more. He’s ready for Stiles this time, tightens his hold on his hips and licks him, slower than the first time. When Stiles tries to push back into his face he does it again. He tastes like soap and sweat and Stiles and it’s driving Scott a little crazy. He presses is tongue harder against Stiles’ hole and feels it give just a little. He does it again and again until he can wiggle the tip of his tongue inside him, curl it up against his rim.
Stiles tastes muskier here, but there’s still the faintest hint of soap, like Stiles cleaned for him, like he pressed soaped up fingers inside himself the last time he was in the shower. The image makes him whine, press deeper.
Stiles’ tremble has turned into a full-blown shake. He doesn’t know when Stiles started making noise but he’s practically whimpering, making these soft, needy sounds in the back of his throat. When Scott pulls back to look at him his neck is flushed bright red and he’s gripping onto the headboard with one hand and reaching for his dick with the other.
Scott puts a hand between his shoulder blades, shoves him down and pins his hips to the bed. It’s simple to do. Easy. He sometimes forgets how much stronger he is than Stiles, but he love it in the moment. Loves that he can put Stiles where he wants to and keep him there. When he repositions both hands on Stiles’ sharp hips he can’t even grind down into the bed.
“Hands back here,” Scott says, “I need you to hold yourself open for me.” Stiles makes a sound like he’s choking on air, but he does it without hesitating. He looks obscene. With his legs spread and his hands digging into the flesh of his ass, Scott can see how wet he is, how swollen. It also has the added bonus of leaving Stiles with too little leverage to move.
He bites Stiles right where his ass meets thigh, makes him shout and curse before dragging his teeth over Stiles hole, sealing his mouth over it and sucking.
Stiles howls.
He reaches for the lube they’d thrown haphazardly on the bed earlier. When he pulls off so he can drizzle some on his fingers he realizes he’s shaking too. He can’t remember the last time he felt like this, frantic and desperate.
“Don’t stop, “ Stiles whines, “oh fuck please, if you stop I’m gonna fucking- “
The first finger slides in easy. The second goes in just the same. Scott watches them, rapt, wants to fuck down into the mattress, but wants to bring Stiles off even more. He scissors his fingers, spreads them to make room and licks back into Stiles. He twists his tongue between his fingers, curls it up as much as he can.
He wants more though, so he works a thumb into Stiles and pulls him open wider. Scott slips his tongue in as deep as deep as he can, fucks him with it, hard and fast. It’s an awkward angle and he can already feel the muscles in his face burning, but he loves it. It feels more intimate than anything they’ve done, being inside Stiles like this.
Stiles is moaning constantly now, just one long, drawn out noise. He’s rocking up into Scott’s face as best he can, but with Scott’s shoulders between his thighs it’s just a desperate little movement. He pulls back a little, sucks on Stiles rim, spreading spit until Stiles is practically dripping with it. Scott can feel Stiles coiling tighter and tighter, so he presses two fingers back in with his tongue, gives him something to clench down on.
His spine bows and Stiles makes this rough, broken noise like it hurts, half-smothering it into the pillow. Scott licks him through it, pulling his fingers out slowly. He presses a last wet kiss to Stiles’ hole, watches it twitch a little.
Stiles has finally stopped trembling and he’s sunken into the bed like he doesn’t plan on moving again anytime in the near future. That works for Scott, as it only takes three strokes before he’s hunching over, coming on Stiles’ lower back, watching it drip down the reddened, wet crack of Stiles’ ass.