"Can I... can I kiss you?"
In which somewhere along the way between all the fighting and death, two boys found themselves falling in love.
~
BoyXBoy
Stiles Stilinski X Male OC
Based on season 2
Act 2 published Oct. 30, 2025. (Based on Season 3A)
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"Boys! Time to get up!"
The knock came with a bang, rattling the door like a starter pistol. I bolted upright, breath caught in my throat, the sheets slipping down to my bare hips. My skin was warm, flushed, and not just from the morning light. Beneath me, Stiles lay stretched out like a work of art, chest rising and falling, damp with sweat, his lips curled into a cocky little smirk that made it impossible not to smile back.
"We're seriously pushing our luck," I murmured, my voice still thick with sleep and satisfaction.
Stiles didn't bother answering. Instead, he slid a hand behind my neck and pulled me down into a slow, lingering kiss. It was the kind of kiss that tasted like heat and skin and secrets. His lips wandered my jaw and my throat, and when he kissed that spot just beneath my ear, a quiet, involuntary sound spilled out of me.
But I caught myself. Barely.
"Okay, okay—no," I said breathlessly, pressing a hand to his chest and easing him back down. "Your dad already lets me sleep in your room, which I'm pretty sure violates some kind of parental trust agreement. Let's not make it worse by getting caught literally on top of each other."
Stiles pouted like I'd just cancelled Christmas. "I'm a little disturbed that you think my dad spends time imagining us having sex in here," he said, eyebrows lifted in mock concern.
I rolled my eyes and reached for my phone on the nightstand. The moment I checked the time, Stiles snatched it from my hand, glanced at it, then tossed it somewhere behind him with zero guilt.
"Still got three minutes before my last alarm," he whispered, sliding his arms around me like gravity itself had decided to pull us back together. Then, with a smooth, practiced motion, he flipped us over until he was hovering above me, his body flush against mine, every inch of him familiar and electrifying. The look on his face was proud, playful, and just a little wicked. It told me exactly what he wanted.
"I'm not done with you yet," he breathed against my lips.
I gasped as I felt him roll his hips into mine, slow and deliberate, bringing my ankles up to his shoulders. The tension between us reignited like a spark hitting gasoline, burning just beneath the skin. I threaded my fingers through the sheets, as his fingers gripped my thighs.
Three minutes. Just enough time to forget the world existed.
TWO MONTHS EARLIER
"Dad, come on—just try the sandwich."
Sheriff Stilinski narrowed his eyes at the veggie burger like it had personally insulted his ancestors. "Stiles, this is not my damn burger."
"You're right," Stiles said, popping a fry into his mouth with irritating confidence. "It's better. And it's your burger because I bought it for you. Now eat."
