The Dancing Around You Series Part 6 (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5)

(Stackson) I can’t find the original post that inspired this *cries* but the link to the pure image is: here!

Before
he knew it Stiles found himself pulled out of his chair and pressed up against
the kitchen island, Jackson maneuvering him around easily while continuing to
kiss him senseless. The new position had a complaint about the hard countertop
digging into his back on the tip of Stiles’ tongue. But before he could even
start to drag himself away from sucking on Jackson’s bottom lip he was lifted
up and onto the counter, the new position changing the angle of their kiss. He
pulled away finally and ran his fingers through Jackson’s short hair, cupping
the back of his head gently as he enjoyed the height he was now at. It allowed
him to look down into Jackson’s open, relaxed face and just smile right back at
him.

 “So,
now that you have admitted you want me in your space you’re finally gonna let
me sit on the countertops? I thought that was against the house rules?”

Jackson
leant forward and buried his face in Stiles’ neck, groaning at the return of a
familiar argument.

“Seriously
Stiles?” His voice came out muffled and warm against Stiles’ throat. “We do the
big confession thing and that is what
you choose to focus on? You’re such a goddamn brat!” He followed up his admonishment with a quick nip to Stiles’
neck, eliciting a yelp and a startled laugh.

“Oh,
I’m the brat now? I’ll remember that
comment the next time you demand I pick out all of the raisins from the rum and raisin ice cream you insist on
getting you absolute- ass!”

The
end of his sentence came out on a gust of air as Jackson suddenly gripped him
by the waist and threw him over his shoulder, carrying him fireman style in the
direction of the bedroom. Their
bedroom now if Jackson’s declaration was anything to go by. Stiles’ heart
fluttered at the thought, and Jackson must have heard it because the hand
holding on to Stiles’ leg gentled and rubbed up and down to soothe him. To
distract himself from the onslaught of sudden feelings Stiles focused on the actual ass that was working just in
front of his face. He reached down and cupped a cheek in each hand, delighting
in the feel of the muscles working as Jackson strode through the apartment.

“Dude,
you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to get my hands on your ass.” Jackson
chuckled and then Stiles felt the world invert as he was unceremoniously dumped
onto the bed. He wriggled around and then settled for folding his arms beneath
his head and putting on his most obnoxiously smug face. “I mean, your face
isn’t too bad, but that ass!”

Jackson
smirked, and with his knees between Stiles’ spread legs he leant forward until
his face was hovering just a breath away. Stiles tilted his face up, already
yearning for another of the kisses he was starting to think he was addicted to.
But Jackson just smirked; nudged Stiles’ nose with his own and then abruptly
stood up and turned his back on Stiles.

“If
you prefer my ass so much better than my face maybe there’ll be no more kisses,
I wouldn’t want you suffering that hardship.”

Jackson
probably meant it to just prolong their argument; it was how they spent most of
their time – locked in a protracted state of snark and mock aggression. But
Stiles was interested in more important things than verbally besting Jackson
today, and considering he had been thinking about getting acquainted with
Jackson’s ass for what felt like the last million years he wasted no time in
sitting up and grabbing it. Jackson turned his head sharply, as if he hadn’t
expected it; so Stiles just grinned up at him before squeezing firmly and
relishing the quiet sigh Jackson let out in response. He released the firm
flesh underneath his palms and ran his hands up until they rucked Jackson’s
t-shirt up and exposed the small of his back. Golden skin and the heat underneath
his fingertips drew Stiles in and he leaned close to drop an open mouthed kiss
just above the dangerously low hanging waistband of Jackson’s sweats, then
another, and another. He pushed the shirt further up to get more access for
kisses and wrapped his hands around Jackson’s sides, feeling his breathing
speed up with the rapid expansion and contraction beneath his palms.

“Take
the shirt off, take it off – I wanna get my hands on you.” Stiles murmured into
the warm skin against his mouth.

And
Jackson complied, tugging the shirt off over his head and throwing it towards
the washing basket in the corner. Stiles took the opportunity to run his hands
further up and around Jacksons chest, thumbing his nipples and making him gasp
before dragging his fingertips back down towards the waistband of his pants. He
dragged himself away from dotting yet more kisses between the dimples on
Jacksons lower back to hook his fingers into the waistband and tug it down,
revealing the plump roundness of his exceptionally well-toned ass. No skipping
squats at the gym for Jackson, obviously. Stiles gripped that ass again, loving
the way his big hands managed to cover almost all of it, and then he slowly
pulled Jackson’s cheeks apart to finally catch sight of his tight pink pucker.
He was sort of glad Jackson had his back to him right now because he was sure
his mouth was just hanging open, slack jawed and loose because fuck, even Jackson’s asshole was pretty.
He leaned forward and just breathed hotly against his hole and Jackson outright
gasped, loud in the silence of the apartment, and his whole body went tense.
Stiles drew back and moved his hands to the safety of Jackson’s hips, rubbing
his thumbs gently to try and relax him.

“Jackson,”
Stiles kept his voice low, “hey, is this okay?”

Jackson
looked over his shoulder again, this time with a flush high on his perfect
cheekbones, and he nodded before clearing his throat.

“I
think – it’d be better if I was lying down for…for this.”

Stiles
just smiled and nodded up at him, and scooted out of the way so that Jackson
could get onto the bed too. But Jackson being Jackson had to rile Stiles up
after having his moment of vulnerability. Still looking over his shoulder he
slowly bent over right in front of Stiles’ face to fully remove his pants,
leaving Stiles to helplessly watch as Jackson’s perfect, perfect ass swayed in front of him. Smirk firmly back in place,
Jackson crawled onto the bed and then lowered his shoulders until he was neatly
arranged on his knees with his chest pressed to the covers. Which really didn’t
help so much with Stiles’ composure. He pressed his palm briefly to the hard on
tenting out the front of his sweatpants, but only enough to get some focus, not
enough to get off. That could wait. Right now he had more important things to
do, and that was to wreck Jackson until he wiped that smirk right off of his
ridiculous face.

The
way Jackson was laid out on the bed presented his ass so prettily, so Stiles
situated himself between his legs and once again took a moment to appreciate
the span of his own fingertips across his cheeks. Then he dipped his thumbs
into Jackson’s crack and parted it, eliciting a soft moan from him as his hole
was exposed to Stiles’ gaze once again. The moment for teasing could wait till
another time though, Stiles could barely hold himself back from finally getting
to taste Jackson in this most intimate place, and he leaned in to place a
gentle kiss to his hole before delicately drawing his tongue all the way from
Jackson’s balls to his tailbone. Jackson outright groaned at that, and spurred
on, Stiles set to work messily eating him out with broad strokes of his tongue
across his hole, delicate, teasing jabs with the tip of his tongue and dirty
open-mouthed kisses. The noises he was pulling from Jackson were becoming ever
more needy, and he was moaning in response, so turned on by giving him pleasure
that his own cock throbbed every time Jackson’s hips gave an involuntary thrust
to ride back against his face.

“Fucking-fuck Stiles!” Jackson’s voice was
muffled as his face half pressed into the mattress. One hand was gripping
tightly to the bedspread, and the other went back to clutch at Stiles’ head,
holding him against his ass while he rolled his hips seeking more. “Pl-please I
need more, I need more, c’mooon – I-I…”

Stiles
delivered one more sucking kiss to the clenching furl of Jackson’s hole before
drawing back. He ignored Jackson’s protestations at his stopping, and took the
hand that had been clutching at his head and placed it on Jackson’s ass.

“Hold
yourself open for me, come on, and the other hand.” He smiled to himself as
Jackson complied, desperate enough for more that he was doing what he was told
for once. “Good, now you hold yourself all open and ready for me and tell me
where the lube and condoms are. I want to open you up all ready for me, how
about that?”

Jackson
nodded mindlessly against the bedspread, letting go of his death grip on it to
move both of his hands to hold his cheeks apart.

“The
lube’s in my bedside drawer, the side I slept on. I don’t want a condom. I
don’t – I just need to feel you. Just – fucking hurry up okay?” Neediness was slipping
into Jackson’s voice and Stiles couldn’t have that, couldn’t have him needing
and not getting, so he hurriedly stripped out of his clothes, retrieved the
bottle of lube and resumed his position between Jackson’s legs.

“You
look so good like this Jackson, so fucking good I cant keep my hands off you.”

Stiles
leant back in and tongued at Jackson’s hole again, loving the way it made him
moan and tighten his grip on his own cheeks till the skin went white around his
fingertips. As he made sure Jackson was thoroughly wet, Stiles poured lube into
one of his palms to warm it and then slicked up two of his fingers. He moved
his mouth to kiss and nip at the soft skin at the junction of Jackson’s thigh
and ass as he gently circled his hole with the tip of one of his fingers before
slowly sinking his finger in. Immediately Jackson clenched down around him and
pushed backwards, eager for more. Stiles had to grab at his erection to stave
off any unfortunate early reactions to the sight of his finger pumping in and
out of Jackson’s ass. Quickly enough Jackson was clearly no longer content with
just one finger so Stiles slid a second in alongside the first, gently
stretching his hole. Jackson’s hands were reflexively clenching where he was
still dutifully holding himself open, and Stiles could tell he was starting to
become desperate. Jackson’s dick was full and heavy, and the damp spot on the
covers from his leaking precome was almost enough to distract Stiles from the
fact that Jackson was now taking three fingers and pushing back for more.

“I’m
ready, I’m ready, I’m ready…” Jackson was muttering over and over into the
covers while he rocked his hips back on Stiles’ hand.

Stiles
slowly pulled his fingers from Jackson’s ass and trailed them down to trace
across his balls, making them shiny with lube and making Jackson jump with the
sudden change in stimulation. He used the leftover lube in the palm of his
other hand to slick up his erection and moved closer to Jackson, letting his
cock rub up against his hole without penetrating him. Making sure he still
wanted it. When the only response he got was the most perfectly arched back,
and to see Jackson’s fingers grip his ass cheeks even more firmly, Stiles
nodded to himself and pressed forward. At first there was resistance and
Jackson tried to push backward too fast, but Stiles gentled him with his hands
on his hips keeping him still and slowly but surely pressed forward until the
head of his cock was inside. A high whine came from Jackson, and for a moment
Stiles thought he had hurt him, but then Jackson’s whole body undulated beneath
him and he slipped in another inch or two. The whine turned into a throaty moan
and Stiles felt more confident slowly thrusting in and out until he was fully
seated in Jackson’s body. The tight, wet, heat
of his body was almost overwhelming. Of course Stiles knew werewolves ran hot
but this took him by surprise somehow, and he threw his head back with his eyes
closed as he took deep calming breaths to try and bring himself back from the
brink of coming far, far too early.

He
took the moment to trace Jacksons fingers with his own and then to take
Jackson’s hands away from holding himself open, instead placing them on the bed
where he immediately regained his white knuckled grip on the bedspread.

“Jackson,
are you ready?” Stiles’ own voice had dropped into the husky tones it always
did when he was so turned on he could barely think.

Jackson
responded with a tight clench around Stiles’ dick that made him gasp, and then
a low growl.

“I’ve
been ready Stiles, please just- I
want to feel you, I wanna come on your dick – just fucking fuck me.”

Just
hearing that made Stiles involuntarily thrust forward. Jackson coming with his
dick inside him? Fuck. Stiles used
his knees to spread Jackson’s legs wider, and planted his own knees firmly
before again taking a grip of Jackson’s slim waist and angling his hips. And
oh, the shoulder to waist ratio when seen from this particular position was
enough to make him want to pay for Jackson’s gym membership himself. His first
solid thrust made Jackson gasp, the new angle must be hitting his prostate, and
the way that Jackson felt around him and the way his ass fucking bounced just about took Stiles’ breath
away. And then Jackson started pushing back against him and Stiles was fucking
into him with a steady measured rhythm, hard and deep and hitting that spot as
often as he could, until he saw Jackson slipping his hand down to his own
neglected cock.

Stiles
leant forward and wrapped his arms around Jackson’s chest, and then leant back
again, dragging Jackson into an upright kneeling position. Stiles adjusted his
grip so one arm wrapped tightly around Jackson’s waist, and the other was
across his chest firmly gripping one muscled shoulder. The position gave him
perfect access to Jackson’s neck and he trailed kisses up the tendon as he
started thrusting hard up into his perfectly pliant body.

 

“Come
on Jackson, touch yourself for me.” Stiles panted into Jackson’s ear, his lips
brushing the sensitive skin with each word. “You’ve been so perfect, you feel so
good, I want to see you come on my dick like you promised. I wanna see you feel
so good…”

One
of Jackson’s hands immediately flew to his cock, achingly hard and red at the
head, and he started jacking himself off ruthlessly. The other hand went to
grip the back of Stiles’ head again, setting off the sense memory of being held
to Jackson’s ass just before. But this time Jackson held Stiles to his neck and
leant his head to the side, fully exposing his vulnerable throat to him. Stiles
gripped him even tighter, and ground deep into him, the thrill of Jackson
trusting him so totally in this moment made him feel like he was on the crest
of something even more meaningful than what was probably going the be the best
orgasm of his life.

Acting
on instinct he set his teeth to Jackson’s neck, feeling the pounding pulse of
his heartbeat against his tongue, and tilted his hips slightly so that on the
next thrust Jackson cried out and Stiles knew he’d found his prostate again. It
took barely three more thrusts, combined with Jackson fucking into his own
hand, and Stiles increasing the pressure of his teeth against his throat, for
Jackson to come noisily and spectacularly all over his belly, and Stiles’ arms,
and the bed too. The feeling of Jackson clenching and spasming around his dick
set Stiles off into selfish rutting as he chased his own orgasm. Jackson’s hand
tightened its grip in his hair and Stiles moaned helplessly against his neck,
as his orgasm washed over him, startling in its intensity. He was shaking and
moaning, and still twitching his hips in minute little thrusts when he finally
relaxed his arms from where they had been crushing Jackson’s body to his own.
He kissed at Jackson’s neck and when he turned his face to search blindly for a
kiss he cupped Jackson’s cheek and kissed him deeply despite the awkward angle.

Eventually
they have to pull apart and when Stiles managed to open his eyes it was to
Jackson’s flushed face, his shiny kiss-bruised lips, and his eyes glowing beta
blue. Jackson quickly closed his eyes and pulled away, separating their bodies
with the obscene sound of lube and come, and he flopped down onto the bed heavily.
He immediately pulled a face because it’s his own wet spot he’s just landed in,
and Stiles laughed quietly.

“I’m
just gonna go grab a cloth okay?” Stiles pressed a kiss to Jacksons shoulder
and went quickly to the bathroom.

When
he returned, washcloth in hand, Jackson had pulled back the bedspread and was
lying on his side on the fresh unspoiled sheet. And his eyes were still closed.
Stiles smiled to himself, trailed his fingers from Jackson’s ankle up his body
until he reached his hip. He gently cleaned Jackson of all the come and lube
and tossed the cloth into the wash basket before climbing into the bed and
tangling their legs together. Jackson had his arms loosely wrapped around himself,
and Stiles’ heart ached.

“Jackson,
come here.” Stiles murmured low, as he took Jackson’s arms and pulled him
bodily towards his own chest. “Open your eyes Jackson, I want to see you.”

He
watched as Jackson’s impressive jaw clenched tight before he opened his eyes a
little, the blue of his beta shift eyes glowing beneath his eyelashes. Stiles
put his fingers underneath Jackson’s chin and tilted his head up from where
it’d been tucked down into his chest, a rare and uncharacteristic display of
insecurity. Before he said anything he leaned closer to drop a soft but full
kiss against Jackson’s plush mouth.

“You
know I know everything about you, so why are you being weird about showing me
your eyes?”

Jackson
huffed against his lips and rolled his eyes dramatically. Stiles grinned to himself,
and hugs him tighter.

“Honestly?
I don’t know, I guess its just habit at this stage? I don’t, it’s not that I
don’t trust you, it’s just that I’m still…” Jackson trailed off, turning his
head to brush his jaw against Stiles’ cheek, scenting him.

“Let
me reassure you. You know full well by this stage that you’re not actually everybody’s type. But you are
mine. And I say that knowing your past, knowing your mistakes, even knowing the
stuff you did absolutely on purpose. But I’m here because I accept all of that;
I welcome all of that, all of you.
And that includes your beautiful blue eyes, whether they are your ‘standard’ or
‘special edition’ blues.” Stiles rubbed his hand up and down on Jackson’s hip,
reassuring him quietly as best he could without intruding

“Stiles,”
Jackson was smirking again as he pulled back to make eye contact again, his
eyes still glowing, “I don’t have a ‘standard’ anything.”

Stiles
snorted before leaning in to press short, sweet kisses against Jackson’s mouth
and chin and cheeks, prompting a started laugh out of him.

“No,
you really don’t. But for the record – you losing control of your beta shift
during sex? That is super hot; we should be exploring that is all I’m saying.
Okay?!”

Jackson
slid his arm under Stiles’ head, cushioning him on his bicep, and cupped his
cheek with the other hand. He leaned in and kissed Stiles, more sweetly than
any of the kisses they had so far shared.

“We
can do that,” he murmured, “we can do all of that. We explore it all together.”

 

 @inell for starting it all! ❤ @eeyore9990 and @poetry-protest-pornography for being stackson lovers 🙂