Work Text:
The chains Scott had used to keep Stiles in place shone brightly under the light of the full moon, only a small breeze and Stiles' deep breathing broke the eerie silence of the night. Scott's wolf howled within him, so Scott howled too, loving the way Stiles' breath stuttered, his heartbeat quickened.
Under the pale light of the moon, Scott couldn’t tell Stiles had spent all summer outside anymore, his skin a shade of gray-blue, washed out, subdued. He ran his forefinger down Stiles' naked torso, his claw leaving a scratch in its wake, the blood pumping closer and closer to the surface; it was intoxicating.
Scott leaned down and pressed his lips to Stiles', nipping with his sharp teeth, but drawing no blood. Not yet. Stiles shivered.
"Are you sure?" Scott pulled back, he had to look Stiles in the face for this, for Stiles’ benefit more than his own; he could hear the steady (but fast) beating of Stiles' heart, could smell arousal flowing off him in waves.
"Yes." There was no hesitation in his voice. Nor his heart. Scott smiled, kissing Stiles gently once more.
The spell Deaton had given them came from some ancient tome or other, and he’d said something about believing, and letting the magic of the Earth and the Moon rise together and seal the bond forever. Stiles had looked enraptured, listening to every word with his whole body, perched on the edge of a stool.
Scott had been glad neither Deaton or Stiles were werewolves. He knew (theoretically, since he had been otherwise occupied at the time) that Stiles had done something before, that had made him believe in magic then, but Scott couldn’t be sure. After all that had happened already, Scott believed in heartbreak, pain, grief, and regret. He believed in people, maybe even the good in some, but he also believed some were plain evil. And through it all, Scott also believed in Stiles.
So he let his claws extend further now, raking across Stiles' skin, making Stiles shiver. Scott watched the way Stiles' cock twitched against his hip, heard the way his breath and heart stuttered whenever Scott got near him.
They'd put the chains on to root Stiles to the earth, but now that Scott had Stiles here, that they had a bit more time before the moon moved directly overhead, he wanted to make it worthwhile.
He wrapped a clawed hand around Stiles' cock and relished in the way Stiles thrashed in the chains.
"Scott, what-" Stiles began to say, but Scott kissed him again, silencing his questions and doubts, his hand moving up and down now, a steady pumping, like the beating of Stiles’ heart.
"Figure we can make this more fun than just all that creepy blood stuff," Scott said, trying for a joke. Failing by a long shot. But Stiles only nodded, leaned up and kissed Scott again, body relaxing completely. Stiles trusted him.
Scott kissed him back hard. He moved on top of Stiles, letting his claw drop to the ground and dig into the dirt there, anchoring him as he began to thrust against Stiles, their cocks trapped between their bodies, sliding inelegantly. The friction swayed from too little to too much and the kiss turned to breathing in each others' frustrated moans.
Stiles tugged at the chains on his hands and feet, wanting to fix it, no doubt, but for once, Scott had the plan, Scott was in control. He relished in Stiles' desperation, in his need and the emotions that swirled around them, that fed his wolf, drove him wild. As the moon rose higher and Scott could feel Stiles getting closer, he bit into his wrist and pushed it to Stiles' mouth, howling as Stiles sucked at the wound, drinking from him. He thrust down harder and faster, digging his claw deeper into the dirt when Stiles came, shuddering underneath him.
Scott's own orgasm came moments later, feeling like an outer body experience. The moon shone above them and he bit down on Stiles' shoulder – a sudden rush of blood and power and love into his body. Scott almost collapsed on Stiles, all his muscles giving out, body in a state of weightlessness, like his teeth in Stiles' neck and the chains holding Stiles were the only things keeping him from flying away. He could feel the magic flowing from the Earth to Stiles and into him then, and they were one. And Scott believed.