When Stiles gets home from work, he’s hungry, a little bit tired, and really horny. The latter isn’t really his fault, though. Nope. He’s totally blaming Boyd for the fact that he spent half the day wondering what kind of ‘special surprise’ his boyfriend has planned for tonight. Boyd is definitely the calmer one in their relationship, the lighthouse in the middle of Hurricane Stiles in many ways, but he also has a wickedly sexy streak hidden beneath that quiet longer exterior. It’s always the quiet ones is a cliché saying because it’s so fucking true. Everyone thinks Boyd is this rock of strength, quiet and thoughtful, and he is those things, but he’s also wicked and witty and so smart and so sweet it’s disgusting except not because he’s sweet to Stiles in a way that makes him feel so appreciated and wanted.
It’s the best of both worlds, since Stiles can get lots of cuddles and quiet nights of reading or he can get phenomenal sex that leaves him boneless and sated. The only drawback is that Boyd likes to surprise him sometimes with something special, which is almost always something Stiles has mentioned in passing really wanting to try sexually or just turned him on when they were watching porn. Having a werewolf for a boyfriend means there aren’t many secrets between them when Boyd can smell his arousal and his heartbeat if he tries playing off his interest in some kink or another. That’s why he’s so horny knowing he’s got something special waiting on him after work, which Boyd totally did deliberately, knowing he’d be even more aroused than usual after thinking about it all damn day.
Boyd is sitting on the sofa with stacks of papers on the table in front of him when Stiles enters the loft. “Hey,” he says, looking up from the paper he’s reading, his glasses perched at the end of his nose. A lazy smile crosses his face as Stiles shuts the door and slides the bolt into place. “Good day?”
“I hate you.” Stiles sulks as he takes off his coat, hanging it on the hook by the door between Boyd’s trench coat and Boyd’s leather jacket. “Jordan kept me giving dirty looks because I’m sure the stench of arousal was so heady he couldn’t not smell it.”
“You love me,” Boyd says simply. “And Jordan’s used to you stinking like arousal. You’ve had that particular scent of eua de Stiles since you were fifteen. It just smells better now that you’re older and more confident sexually, if anything.”
“You're really not helping with the whole hating you thing, babe.” Stiles rolls his eyes, feeling a faint flush on his cheeks. “I don’t really smell like I’m turned on all the time, do I?”
Boyd arches a brow and flashes a grin. “Not all the time, I suppose.” He pulls his glasses off, tossing them on the pile of paperwork. “I have midterm essays to grade tonight. If I have to read another student paraphrasing Wikipedia to try to justify their opinion on racism in modern America, I might end up quitting.”
“You love molding those bright young minds into free thinking opinionated social justice warriors of the future,” Stiles reminds him, walking over to the couch and leaning down to kiss him. “However, I did warn you that teaching high school was sadomasochistic so can I say ‘I told you so’ now or should I wait until the end of the school year?”
“If you say it, I’ll have to punish you for being an ass, so either works for me.” Boyd smirks before gripping the back of Stiles’ head and tugging him down for a filthier kiss. Teeth and tongue, licking into his mouth and getting Stiles’ dick interested immediately. Then he lets go and just looks like the picture of innocence. “I turned the crock pot on when I came home. Should be about done by now.”
“Boyd,” Stiles whines, thrusting his bottom lip out in a pout. “You told me you had a special surprise for me when I came home. I really hope you didn’t mean chili and grading sophomores’ attempts at writing interesting essays for a required government class.”
“These are for the sociology class, which is an elective, not the government class,” Boyd tells him. “Far more entertaining.” He stands up and stretches before leaning down to brush a kiss across the tip of Stiles’ nose. “I do have a surprise for you, but you’re not getting it until after dinner.”
“I’m willing to skip a meal for sexy times with my hot boyfriend,” Stiles points out. His stomach growls almost as soon as he’s finished talking, though, and he glares down at it. “Et tu, Brute?”
Boyd huffs a laugh. “Come on, Caesar. We’ll eat, and you can tell me about your day. Then I’ll fill you in on all the latest gossip in the teachers’ lounge. Exciting stuff.”
“Oh fun!” Stiles unbuttons his uniform shirt, shrugging it off on the way to the kitchen. He puts it over the back of a chair at the table before going to get drinks while Boyd gets their bowls. Dinner is good, and he really is hungry, so he doesn’t actually mind postponing sex for an hour so they can eat. After they finish and wash dishes, he’s ready to play. “So, surprise time?”
“You’re like a child at Christmas,” Boyd mutters, shaking his head. “Go take a shower, and I’ll prepare your surprise, Brat.”
“A shower, huh?” Stiles arches a brow and grins. “Okay. I’ll make sure I clean thoroughly then.” Boyd snorts and swats his ass as he prances past him to go down the hall to their bathroom. The bathroom is his favorite part of the loft, probably because Derek renovated the entire building when he bought it and let his betas design their own spaces. Boyd’s a big man, broad shouldered, almost a half foot taller than Stiles, and his bathroom reflects that stature. The shower is big enough for three, which they’ve actually tested before, and there’s also a huge tub in the oversized bathroom that’s perfect for bubble baths.
Of course, the fact that Derek spared no expense in making his betas happy, since he’d been trying to make up for being a major douche at the time but whatever, meant that all four of them had claimed two lofts each that were then converted into one huge space. Stiles moved in with Boyd when they reached that serious step in their relationship because his loft is fucking awesome, plus Erica lives downstairs, and Isaac lives upstairs, and Stiles doesn’t even care that Jackson also lives here because he enjoys their playful snarking even if he’d deny it under threat of death. Derek lives here, too, of course, but he travels a lot now that things are quiet in Beacon Hills and his betas are all responsible adults. Or semi-responsible. It’s nice having pack so close, especially when Scott and Allison also just live a couple of blocks away with their daughter.
“You know, we should have a pack night sometime soon,” he says as he leaves the bathroom and heads back to the living room. He’s towel drying his hair, but didn’t bother putting on any clothes so he’s glad the heat is working well because it’s pretty damn cold outside this evening. “We’re all so busy now that we’re grown-ups, and the holidays will be here before we know it. What do you thin—what the fuck is that?”
Boyd smiles when he obviously hears Stiles’ heartbeat quicken or maybe he’s smelling the rush of arousal that’s washing over him as he stares at the scene Boyd’s set up while he’s been in the shower. Boyd shrugs a shoulder. “It’s your surprise.”
“Seriously?” Stiles walks closer, letting the towel hang around his neck as he approaches the device that’s sitting next to the coffee table. “You put a fucking machine in our living room. That’s what it is, isn’t it?”
“You know it is.” Boyd’s lips curl into a smug smile. “Do you think I didn’t notice your reaction when we watched that porn with the guy and that machine?”
“That was so fucking hot,” he admits, licking his lips as he stares at the machine. “But we don’t really need this, do we? I mean, I’ve got you to fuck me whenever I need dick, and vice versa.”
“We might not need it, but it’s alright for you to want it.” Boyd steps closer to him, taking both ends of his towel and tugging him forward. “Besides, you have an overactive sex drive, and I can’t always keep up with how often you want that tight hole filled. This should help bridge the gap.”
“I’m not a nympho,” he mutters, leaning up to kiss Boyd. “Anyway, you’re pretty desperate for my dick some nights, too, babe. Do I need to remind you of the ‘please Stiles’ and ‘deeper Stiles’ moans that spill from these pretty lips?”
“I don’t need reminders,” Boyd murmurs, licking into his mouth as he traces the curve of Stiles’ spine down to his ass. “Also, don’t be ashamed about enjoying sex. I like how open you are about your sexuality, how adventurous you are, how kinky you are.” He growls that word against Stiles’ ear as he rubs his thumb over Stiles’ hole. “You’re already hard, Stiles, just thinking about that machine tearing apart your tight ass.”
“Talk about kinky,” he whispers, biting his lip when he feels Boyd’s thumb press into his hole. He’s a little loose from his shower since he knew sex was coming up and used a couple of fingers to prepare himself, but he’s going to need more if he’s going to be taking that toy up his ass. “No one would ever believe me if I told them what a filthy mouth you have.”
Boyd’s laugh is a low rumble against Stiles’ ear. “You’ll never tell them because you get off being the only one who really knows me and being able to sit there smugly when they underestimate me or misjudge me just because I’m quieter than the rest of the pack.”
“Think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Stiles is rolling his hips now, fucking himself on two of Boyd’s thick fingers. “Not fair you’ve got brains, beauty, and brawn. You’re a damn triple threat.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Boyd murmurs before sucking on his neck, marking him with a bruise before letting the wet skin out of his mouth. “You ready to try out the machine now?”
“We’re going to have to name it,” Stiles decides, looking at the contraption and feeling slightly intimidated. “It looks kind of scary.”
“Why do we have to name the sex toy?” Boyd arches a brow as he pulls his fingers out of Stiles’ ass, sucking them into his mouth and winking when Stiles whimpers at the sight.
“Uh, well. Because.” Stiles shakes his head. “Don’t expect me to think of a good response when you’re being wicked.”
“Wicked? Me?” Boyd looks the very picture of innocence despite the fact he’s holding a six inch dildo in his hand. He smiles slyly. “Bend over for me, Stiles. I’ll make sure your hole is ready for this.”
“What about something like Lucifer? Since it looks frightening and demanding,” Stiles suggests as he turns around and bends over, holding on to the arm of the chair. “Oh!” The feel of Boyd’s tongue on his hole never fails to make him gasp at that first wet touch. Boyd licks his pucker with the flat of his tongue, saliva soon dripping down to his balls, then he eases the tip of his tongue into Stiles’ hole. “Or, um, maybe like Thor? Fuck, Boyd. That feels so good.”
Boyd fucks him with his tongue until he’s a whining mess, pushing back desperately, dick hard and throbbing. Then he just pulls his tongue out and kisses Stiles’ left ass cheek before slapping the right one. “Thor, huh?” He gets to his feet, flicking open the bottle of lube and drizzling some between Stiles’ cheeks. He works some of it into his ass, taking this preparing thing very seriously.
“It’s big and dominating?” Stiles shrugs. “Okay fine. I kind of like the idea of texting you in the middle of the day about planning a threesome with Thor, to be perfectly honest.”
“I figured it was something like that,” Boyd says dryly, coating the dildo now before attaching it to the free standing machine. “Fine. Thor it is. Are you ready for Thor to pound that hole?”
“God yes.” Stiles nods eagerly and sits in the chair that Boyd’s arranged by the machine. He smiles mischievously. “Are you going to tie me up, babe?”
“Nope.” Boyd arches a brow. “You’re going to keep your legs up and not touch your cock because you know I’ll be disappointed in you if you do. Not because you’re restrained from touching. Can you do that for me? Not touch yourself because you want to please me without being tied down. ”
“I’ll try.” Stiles puts his legs up over the arms of the chair, sliding down until his ass is at the end of the seat. “Did you get the scariest one they had?”
“I wanted one that has a stand that can be raised or lowered. This one has great reviews, the speeds are varying, and I got hard imagining you getting fucked by it.” Boyd moves the machine slightly closer to the chair, adjusting the height until the moving arm is even with Stiles’ ass. “Let’s see if this is good.” He turns the machine on and presses something on the remote he’s now holding. The arm slowly moves forward, the dildo pushing into Stiles’ ass without even giving him time to adjust.
“It’s good,” Stiles moans, gripping his legs tightly so he doesn’t give in already and reach down to stroke his dick. “God, that toy unrelenting.”
“Of course it is.” Boyd watches him as he fiddles with the remote. The toy begins fucking him with an easy speed, in and out, deep enough to feel but not as deep as Boyd goes. “It’s a machine, Stiles. It’s purpose is to fuck desperate holes. It isn’t gentle and it doesn’t care about your feelings. It wants to fuck, and you’re just a needy little hole that wants filled.”
“It’s nice,” Stiles murmurs, licking his lips as he watches Boyd sit on the sofa, putting the remote beside him before picking up his glasses and essays. “Really? You’re going to grade papers now?”
Boyd smirks. “I told you I had work to get done tonight. Maybe if you’re a good boy and take your fucking from Thor quietly, I’ll let you have my cock when I’m finished. Just watch television, Stiles, and be quiet.” He watches him for a moment. "You're doing so well, Stiles. Taking it so eagerly in your tight hole."
“Fine. We’ll see how long you can ignore me,” he mutters, shifting slightly and moaning a little loud on purpose as the toy fucks into him. When Boyd doesn’t even glance at him, he pouts and picks up the remote to the TV. He turns on an episode of Project Runway from their DVR and starts watching as the toy fucks in and out slowly.
About ten minutes into the show, the machine arm starts moving faster, the toy picking up speed. Stiles looks over to see Boyd reading essays, the remote sitting innocently beside him. The earlier speed had been so slow that Stiles had almost forgotten that he’s getting fucked, which probably sounds pretty slutty of him if his hole is so loose he doesn’t even feel a toy fucking into him. This speed, though, is more noticeable. His breath hitches when the toy rubs against his prostate, and he tries to get that position back, but he can’t manage it.
His dick is hardening again, his earlier erection softening slightly when he was watching Tim Gunn give advice to designers. Now, he isn’t even paying attention to the show. Fuck! He looks at Boyd when the toy goes faster, sliding deeper into his hole. Boyd’s got the remote on his leg now, his large fingers gliding over the buttons as he focuses on the essay he’s reading. “Not gonna last like this,” he warns, rolling his hips up to fuck the air as Thor fucks him so fast it’s ridiculous.
“You can come whenever you want,” Boyd drawls, not even looking at him as he touches something on the remote. The toy is fucking him hard now, in and out, taking his hole like he’s nothing more than a sex hungry slut, and, fuck, he kind of is and doesn’t even care. "You're so good, Stiles. Not touching your pretty cock because I told you not to. Riding that toy and making the sweetest noises. Such an amazing boy. I'm so lucky having you."
The praises always does things to him, and this is no exception. Stiles moves his hips and, oh yes, right there, it’s the perfect angle because now the toy is pressing against his prostate again, and he can’t even catch his breath because this is powerful fucking, nothing gentle about it, just using him in a way he’s thought about in some of his darker fantasies but never actually wanted with other guys. But Thor isn’t another guy. It’s a machine that Boyd bought to make Stiles happy. When Stiles starts bucking his hips erratically, dick flopping around and dripping pre-come on his belly, he has to clench his fingers into fists to not touch himself. He doesn’t need to, though, because the machine is hitting the right spot. He comes with a low grunt, ropes of come dripping onto his belly, thighs, and the floor as the machine keeps fucking him.
“Beautiful,” Boyd murmurs, staring at him as he pants and keeps moving his hips as the toy fucks his ass. Boyd’s smile is wicked as he taps something on the remote. The toy is going deeper, faster, pounding his ass as he tries to catch his breath from his orgasm. “Let’s go for another, shall we? I wonder how many times you’ll come for Thor before I finish grading my papers, Stiles. I bet your hole will be so loose that you can take me and Thor at the same time. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Filling that slutty hole until you’re sobbing? You can take whatever I give you because you're my good boy.”
“No. Too much,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Just you. Only need you.”
“Stop making so much noise then. You’re distracting me from my grading,” Boyd says, dark eyes staring into Stiles’ for a moment before he looks back at his essays. “The longer it takes me to grade, the longer it will be before you can have my cock.”
“I’ll be good,” Stiles promises. “I’ll be quiet.” He moans low in his throat when the machine fucks him so deep it hurts so good. He turns off the TV, knowing he can’t focus on anything right now, and he sits in the chair letting the machine fuck him. Time stops meaning anything as Boyd raises then lowers the speed, never letting him take a break, not that Stiles asks for one. If he did, Boyd would stop immediately, but he doesn’t want to stop. He’s getting off on this, being wrecked by a machine just a few feet away from his fully dressed boyfriend who is focused on grading essays like Stiles isn’t stinking of sweat and sex and come.
The second orgasm surprises him, but it probably shouldn’t since it’s been who knows how long with the toy fucking into his hole. His hole is sore, and it would be rubbed raw if Boyd hadn’t tossed him the bottle of lube earlier so he could drizzle some on his hole when it got too dry. His dick is still twitching, come drying on his belly and thighs, shooting as far up as his chin this time as he flopped around and let Thor fuck him hard. He’s a complete mess, totally fucked out, eyes slightly dazed, lips bruised and bitten from where he’s trying to be quiet for Boyd but not so successful because it’s just too much.
Just when he starts to reach the point where it’s too overwhelming, where he’s past his limits, Boyd turns the machine off. Stiles is crying and hadn’t even realized it, tears dripping from his eyelashes as Boyd picks him up and carries him to the bathroom. “Shh. It’s okay, Stiles,” Boyd whispers, soothing him as he trembles and his hole clenches around air. Boyd holds him as Stiles tries to stand by the toilet, even gripping his dick for him so he can piss because Stiles’ can’t hold anything right now. “You’re so good for me, Stiles. So good.”
“Wasn’t quiet,” he says hoarsely, feeling like he hasn’t spoken in days instead of merely hours. “Tried to be but it was too much.”
“I know.” Boyd kisses his face. “It’s alright. I like hearing you desperate and needy like that. Let’s get you cleaned up now, okay? Then we’ll go to bed.”
“Snuggles,” Stiles demands quietly, clinging to Boyd’s broad shoulders as he carries him over to the tub. Boyd doesn’t let go of him even when he starts the water, only releasing him when the water reached a good level.
“We’ll snuggle for sure.” Boyd kisses him lightly before he strips and climbs into the tub behind Stiles. He pulls him in close, just wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. “You’re my beautiful boy.”
“Love you,” Stiles says, leaning against his muscular chest and closing his eyes as the warm water begins to relax him.
“Me too, Stiles. Me too.” Boyd kisses his neck and tightens his embrace. “Now sleep if you need to. You’ve been through a lot tonight. I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you, babe.”