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Stiles' head hit the bed, falling back from where he'd leaned up to kiss his boyfriend. Scott, for his part, was bearing down on Stiles, his ankles wrapped behind his head. Scott was by no means fucking him gently, but Stiles knew he could dish out worse – it'd be impossible for him to do the feats of werewolf superstrength Stiles had seen time and again for this to be his maximum output. Not that he'd ever complained, of course, his boyfriend was still hot as hell and very good at what he did, but Stiles wouldn't be himself if he didn't make an objective observation here and there, even in the midst of getting his back blown out.
"God, baby, you feel so good," Scott moaned out, continuing to push into Stiles at a pace most humans would only be able to keep for a minute or two, one that he'd held easily for the past ten. Stiles was almost content to drift away and let it continue, to let Scott praise and pamper him, but they'd had a deal. And no one was better at keeping Scott honest than him.
"Scotty," He whispered, trying to keep the sultry whisper in his voice from breaking under Scott's motions. Scott's eyes locked to his. Always so attentive. "Remember what we agreed to try this time?"
If it was possible, Scott blushed through the already extant haze on his face.
"Yeah, well, I," he mumbled out, his hips slowing ever so slightly. Stiles' hand reached up, his thumb lightly tracing along Scott's cheek.
"It'd make me soooo happy, Scotty." Stiles pulled his own hips up slightly, rocking back down out of time with Scott's thrusting, knocking him further off kilter. "Try it for me."
Scott, for everything the two of them had been through together, still had trouble with some of the kinks Stiles took for granted. While they were both bi, Scott had spent most of their teenage years chasing and dating and, subsequently, fucking straight girls. He was used to that sexual arena. Stiles was his first guy, and his appetite was definitely different from anyone else he'd been with.
Stiles had also had a lot more time to figure out what he liked, spending that same chunk of time flirting with Danny, experimenting with Isaac, and doing who knows what else with who else. He'd had a lot more time to get comfortable with. Certain things.
Stiles had been very patient with him, and Scott appreciated that, but Stiles also knew that sometimes his beautiful, sweet, incredibly caring boyfriend needed a push to see how fun being a little rougher could be. Stiles reached his arms down, just long enough to grab Scott's hips and pull him forward, prying away control of the rhythm from him for a moment. Moving him just a bit faster than he'd been going himself. Scott inhaled shakily, but didn't fight him.
"What am I, Scotty?" Stiles whispered, this time not able to hold back the groan in the back of his throat as he went. A small smile found its way to his face. As much as he wanted to be roughed up, there was also a part of him that loved playing with Scott. Teasing him. Toying with him. "What am I? Say it. Fffff- Fffff-"
"Aw, fuck, Stiles." Scott's expression was torn, but he made a decision. He and Stiles had been negotiating kinks for a while and he'd agreed to try. Just this once. He rocked his hips again, hard, hard enough to fully wrench them from Stiles' hands and force a gasp from him. Scott took the chance to lean forward, face inches from Stiles', and whispered experimentally, "Good faggot."
The word tasted weird on his lips. It almost didn't feel like something he should be saying, something he mostly associated with locker rooms and his dad's occasional drunken tirade. He'd raised these concerns and others when they had negotiated and Stiles had listened, before finally saying, "Scott, we are, both, objectively fags, is the thing. You'll be saying it while fucking another dude. In the ass. You're allowed to say it, and you should at least get to have some fun with it."
Stiles had had long enough with the word to realize how much fun it could be, how it was a bitchy word he could use with friends, how in the right hands it could be the hottest thing someone could say to him. Scott, who was used to being read as straight and hadn't comfortably started labeling himself as anything but up until relatively recently, was still getting used to Stiles' ideology on the word.
Scott had agreed to a trial run, but he hadn't been convinced then and he was still figuring out how he felt in the immediate instant after having said it. He was sure the uncertainty was obvious on his face as he looked down to gauge Stiles' reaction.
Stiles, doe eyes clouded over with lust, mouth half open in a pleased mewl, closed the distance between them, kissing Scott hard, hands grabbing at Scott's arms, one making its way into his hair to hold him in place, panting against his lips.
"Thank you, sir." Stiles moaned into his mouth. The sultry whisper was gone, the pretense of control over the situation fading under the shift in the scene, coupled with the fact that, for all his hesitation, Scott's pace hadn't slowed in the slightest. For all of Scott's fears around hurting Stiles, he seemed to be having fun. Seemed to be loving it.
'Okay,' Scott thought, 'maybe I can be convinced.'
Scott grabbed at Stiles' wrists, pinning them to the bed, and folded himself nearly in half, his own body weight pushing Stiles into the mattress. He pushed his face into the side of Stile's head, licking along the inside of his ear and relishing in the moan it elicited. From this angle, it was also ever so slightly easier to speed his hips up further, making Stiles whine against his shoulder. The bed springs creaked in time, confirming audibly that fuck, Scott was really giving it to him.
"You like that, fag? Like the way I use you?" His lips were around the shell of Stiles' ear now, barely whispering but enough to drive deep into Stiles' consciousness. When all he got in return was a whimper, he snapped his hips forward again. They had agreed on nonverbals for when they should slow down or stop. Even if Stiles couldn't talk he could signal that it was too much. But Scott knew Stiles well enough to know this was nothing near his limit. "Not an answer. Speak up or I'll go finish myself off."
An empty threat. But a good line for the scene, Scott figured.
"Yes, sir." Stiles managed to choke out. Another snap of his hips, this time pulling out until his head began to tease against Stiles' hole before shoving back in. Stiles gasped roughly, trying to keep any of his composure and, as far as Scott could tell, failing completely. Scott was proud of himself; he was the one person in the world who could makes Stiles lose his words.
"Not enough. Tell me you appreciate it. Tell me you love it." Making his point he resumed the brutal pace from before, not giving his boyfriend any time to adjust. Stiles bucked his body against Scott's, trying to arch and writhe in pleasure, but found no give against his boyfriend's strength. He had nowhere to go. He was completely at Scott's mercy. The bedframe knocked against the wall with every thrust now, but that was someone else's problem. Everything else was someone else's problem right now.
"Fuck, sir, I love the way you fuck me," Stiles' voice was almost entirely at a whine now, caught somewhere in his throat much higher than his usual teasing. Scott couldn't help but smiling against the side of his face.
"Good boy," he growled, some of the wolf creeping into his voice. His chest vibrated slightly against Stiles' beneath him. Stiles began whimpering again, a thin, needy noise he seemed to have no control over. "You want me to breed you, fag? Think you deserve it?"
"Please please please please please please," Stiles couldn't seem to stop himself, fingers clenching impotently where Scott still held them down. His legs, slung over Scott's shoulders, were trembling. His begging joined the springs and the bedframe, a harmony that only drove him further over the edge. Scott decided to get one last lick in.
"Ask for it," he whispered into Stiles' ear. Then, feeling his eyes flash red for the barest second, he didn't fight the growl this time, letting it run through his entire body, shaking every inch of Stiles. "Say it."
"Scotty, please breed me, please," Stiles choked out, Scott's body the only thing holding him together. And with that final 'please,' Stiles came onto his own stomach, coating Scott in the process, unable to hold himself back against the pleasure any more. His hole tightened around Scott, and all he could feel was his eyes squeeze shut as his mind flew from his body, giving everything up to his boyfriend's control.
Between Stiles' broken voice, his own pet name, and the sudden blinding pleasure that came with his boyfriend coming, Scott fell apart, feeling his own body shake at a level that still failed to match Stiles' own quivering. He felt a dull surprise at how much he actually came, filling Stiles with fits and spurts as more aftershocks kept coming. Stiles shook softly under him with each new wave, twitching until Scott finally finished, losing the strength in his arms and falling onto Stiles.
They lay together for a minute, both panting, both realizing how sweaty they'd become. When he had his breath back, Scott spoke first.
"Tsk tsk Stiles," he intoned in mock seriousness. "I don't think your master ever said you could come."
"I think," Stiles retorted between deep breaths, "that my master can bite me for holding back on holewrecking sex like that for this long."
Scott chuckled, taking his hands off of Stiles' wrists and propping himself up by an inch or two. Just enough to give Stiles room to move if he wanted without having to jeopardize how comfy he was still being buried inside him.
"I take it you had fun, then?" Scott asked, little twinkles of mischief sparking in his eyes. Stiles was the designated prankster, sassmaster, you name it, but he and Scott had only meshed so well because Scott could keep up and make his own jokes.
"More than fun, Scotty. Fuck, that was incredible, I loved it." He leaned upward to place a quick peck on Scott's lips. "I love you. Thank you for trying that with me. What'd you think?"
"It was fun, and I'm definitely not opposed to more stuff like that." Scott started carefully. "But maybe just a once in a while thing. Not sure I can keep that energy every time we fuck. I don't think I love being mean as much as you love me being mean. But you are cute when you shake."
He punctuated the last comment with a small kiss on Stiles' forehead.
"I can live with that," Stiles said, smiling up at him. "Besides, the sweet ooey-gooey sex is nice too."