Disney’s got it all wrong. Fairies are malicious and evil, not cute Tinkerbells who fly around being all feisty and jealous. No, the fairies they’ve been dealing with in Beacon Hills are annoying troublemakers. They aren’t even as bad as some groups, according to Deaton’s vague mutterings, but Stiles is sick and tired of them being in his town causing chaos. The worst bit? They seem to like him, so they’re constantly around. He’s really lucky that they didn’t show up until after graduation, because he couldn’t possibly have gone to school with a crowd of flying maniacs around him. As it is, he’s been stuck on his own the first three weeks of summer because the fairies don’t like anyone in the pack and always attack them whenever they get too close.
No, that’s not true. There’s one member of the pack they like, but it has to be Stiles’ least favorite pack member, so it doesn’t really help him that much. Maybe if Jackson had kept his smug ass back in London, the fairies would have taken to someone else that Stiles actually likes. But, no, Jackson had to parade back into town to surprise Lydia and Danny at graduation looking like he’d stepped off the runway of an Armani show. To make it even worse, he decided to stay in Beacon Hills because there’s been a fight with his parents, and he’s now on his own, though it’s not like he’s living on the streets or anything. He’s got a trust fund he received access to when he turned eighteen, which Stiles figures is why the fight with his parents happened conveniently after the money was his.
Of course, Stiles almost wishes he was living on the streets because it would mean he’s no longer using the guest room at Casa Stilinski. His dad has too soft a heart, and he totally bought Jackson’s sad sighing and talk about not having anywhere to stay yet when the pack got together for a post-graduation celebration. Sure, Stiles had actually felt slightly sympathetic because Jackson’s an ass, but he can’t imagine fighting with his dad enough to never want to see him again, until he’d caught sight of Jackson’s smug smile after the offer of the guest room was accepted. Scott thinks he’s overreacting and regressing to sixth grade rivalry Stiles, who was irrational and consumed with getting under Jackson’s skin, but Stiles thinks Scott’s too gullible and actually believes Jackson’s changed.
Okay, sure, there have been some changes, but he’s only seen that behavior displayed to everyone else but Stiles. Jackson still thrives on fighting with him, insulting him, treating him like he’s beneath him, and generally just driving him crazy. So Stiles doesn’t care if he’s downright charming and nice to everyone else and seems sincere when he apologizes for some of what happened with the kanima and everything because he still targets Stiles like a bullying bully who bullies. The fact that he’s even better looking than he’d been (like what the fuck? How is that even possible when he’d always been so damn pretty) because he’s filled out and grown up and gained a slight edginess that really does things to Stiles that he totally ignores is just an annoying cherry on the top of a fucked up sundae.
Yet the crazy fairies love Jackson.
They never swarm him or snap their sharp little teeth at him or dive bomb his head, all things they’ve done whenever Scott, Kira, and Malia have tried visiting. No, they fly around Jackson’s head tittering and singing and cooing like a bunch of lusty old women who have drunk too much champagne. It wouldn’t even be bad if the fairies would just adopt Jackson and leave Stiles alone, but nooooo. They seem intent to force him to spend time with Jackson and bare their sharp teeth if either of them tries leaving before the fairies deem it acceptable. That’s led to way too much time spent with Jackson the last couple of weeks. Jackson seems to be enjoying his misery, of course, always smirking or looking smug whenever Stiles mutters at him.
Today, however, is the worst day yet. The fucking fairies have locked them in the pantry together. It’s not the biggest space for one person, and it’s downright tight when there are two of them stuck in here. He can hear the twittering on the other side of the door and bangs his fist against the wood again. “Let us out, you little flying demons,” he shouts, banging a couple of times.
“Shouting just annoys them,” Jackson points out. “And it makes my headache worse, so try to shut up for ten minutes, if that’s possible.”
“I told you not to drink that tea. Fairies made it for you, so it’s probably poisoned,” Stiles points out. “It’s totally what gave you a headache because werewolves don’t even usually get normal aches and pains. If you die, your last thought can be ‘I should have listened to Stiles’, which is actually pretty awesome. For me.”
“It would have been rude to refuse,” Jackson mutters. “Anyway, you didn’t seem to have any problem eating the chocolate cake they had on the tray. Your refusal to drink that nasty tea is probably what got us locked up in here anyway.”
“Oh! Here it comes. It’s all my fault, right? It’s always Stiles’ fault.” Stiles turns to glare at Jackson, blinking when he notices the flush on his face. “Dude, are you feeling okay?”
“It’s hot in here.” Jackson sulks, his lips even more distracting as they stick out and curve downward. Stiles blinks when he realizes he’s staring, counting to ten so his dick stops twitching. Jackson leans in suddenly, breathing deeply. “You smell so damn good.”
“Uh. Right.” Stiles steps back, but the door is behind him so there’s nowhere else to go. “I’m thinking they actually did give you something in that tea because you certainly wouldn’t be sniffing me like this if you weren’t under the influence of something.”
“You don’t know everything,” Jackson tells him, leaning in and smelling his neck. “You drive me so crazy, and you don’t even realize how much I want you.”
“Actually, I’m fully aware that I drive you crazy. We’re always bickering.” Stiles feels Jackson’s mouth against his neck, kissing and licking, and he shoves at Jackson’s chest even as he unwillingly moans because, God, that feels really good.
“Foreplay.” Jackson looks at him and smirks. “That’s what Lydia calls it. She says I’m one step away from dropping to my knees and worshipping your cock every time you piss me off.” He blinks suddenly. “Fuck, they did give me something. I’d never have admitted…wouldn’t have said…damn it.”
“Some kind of truth thing then?” Stiles’ eyes widen. “But that means you’re telling the truth. You really want me?”
“Yes.” Jackson grits his teeth. “That isn’t fair, asshole. I can’t lie to you.”
“Which is amazing.” Stiles slowly smiles. “What? I’m not really that great of a person, so I’m totally taking advantage of this. You want to suck my dick?”
“Yes.” Jackson takes a step back, the expression on his face surprisingly vulnerable. “Please don’t, Stiles.”
“I want you, too,” Stiles admits, shrugging when Jackson stares at him. “I didn’t drink the tea, but it’s only fair that I’m honest with myself about that fact. I’d like you to suck my dick, too. Your mouth is unbelievable.”
“Mine?” Jackson scoffs. “Your lips were made to suck cock. It’s one of the things I hated most about you back when I was still firmly in the closet and refused to even admit to myself that I was also attracted to guys. That fucking mouth and those fucking hands. I hated you for being so damn tempting.”
“Me? You found me tempting?” Stiles runs his fingers through his hair. “So you want to fuck me, and I want to fuck you. Guess we’ve got that truth bomb out there now. Maybe we should do it to get it of our systems.”
“No,” Jackson says, shaking his head. “Once wouldn’t be enough, and I want more than just sex.” He groans before putting his hand over his mouth, as if that’s somehow going to retract the words he’s just said.
“I didn’t ask you anything,” Stiles tells him. “It wasn’t my fault you admitted that. I wouldn’t have made you say something like that.”
Jackson snorts. “Doesn’t matter now, does it? I guess I don’t even need provocation to make myself look like a fool.”
“You don’t look like a fool, Jax.” Stiles bites his bottom lip. “I’m a little surprised by all this, you know? But I’m realizing maybe I shouldn’t be because I’ve always enjoyed getting under your skin. Hell, I started crushing on Lydia because you liked her, and I don’t know. I guess it was more acceptable to crush on her than you? Because I can’t even pretend that I didn’t jerk off to thoughts about hatesexing up the locker room with you a lot after I realized I was bi sophomore year.”
“I hated you for wanting her,” Jackson admits. “You should have wanted me, not her, and it drove me insane every time you’d pop up to fawn over her. Danny called me on that bullshit freshman year, but I was still in denial. It actually wasn’t until I was in London that I realized he’d been right. When I came back and your dad was so nice, it was like fate or something telling me it was time to get my head out of my ass and tell you what I really felt. But it’s just so much fun fucking with you that I fell into old patterns easily. The, uh, fairies? They might have heard me talking about you.”
“You fucker. That’s why they think you’re so great,” Stiles says, snorting. “I knew you had to have done something to cause it because Scott’s like the nicest guy ever, and they totally attack him whenever he’s within six feet of me.”
“I might have mentioned that Scott was a rival for your affections.” Jackson shrugs. “So what? There’s some lingering jealousy issues there because he’s always had it so easy. Sue me. I didn’t realize the fairies were a bunch of meddlesome matchmakers or romantics or just plain evil.”
“I vote for plain evil.” Stiles licks his lips. “They’ve been playing with us this whole time. I mean, the whole shower incident three days ago? I about jerked myself raw after being herded into the bathroom by them and seeing you naked.”
“Yeah, well, that’s only fair considering when they buzzed at my head until I went to your room and caught you riding your fingers last week. It’s no wonder your room stinks of come and sweat with how often you masturbate.” Jackson huffs. “I can hear you every single time, and I know you’re being loud on purpose.”
“Um, actually, I’m not used to sharing a house with a werewolf.” Stiles grins. “I tend to be very vocal when my dad’s not home. Anyway, it sounds like the fairies are a bunch of pervs, too.”
“Makes perfect sense why they’re so attached to you then,” Jackson drawls, lips curved into a smug smile.
“You say the nicest things,” Stiles says with an innocent flutter of his eyelashes. Then he becomes serious. “How long do you think they’re going to keep us locked in here?”
“Who knows? I mean, we both just admitted we’re into the idea of fucking each other and doing stuff other than fucking,” Jackson points out.
“It’s called a relationship. We’re both into the idea of having a relationship with each other,” Stiles tells him, deliberately using a tone like he’s talking to a child. Jackson flashes beta blue eyes at him, which makes him grin smugly. “They obviously want something other than declarations of lust and potential emotional shit.”
“Maybe we should kiss.” Jackson is staring at his mouth now, his cheeks flushed and his nostrils flaring. “What’s that saying? Sealed with a kiss?”
“Yeah, maybe that’d get them to let us out.” Stiles clears his throat and does his own share of staring at Jackson’s mouth. They each take a step forward, and, despite being the same height, Stiles has to angle his head slightly so they can kiss. Jackson’s lips are soft, but Stiles knows his own are chapped because he doesn’t use lip balm as obsessively as Jackson does. Jackson doesn’t seem to mind, though, because he’s moving his lips against Stiles’, his hand moving into Stiles’ hair.
“Still shut,” Jackson murmurs, kissing him again. This time, there’s tongue, and Stiles returns the kiss eagerly. Jackson’s hair is too short to really tug, so he settles for gripping the back of Jackson’s head and pulling him in so the kiss can deepen. Stiles thunks hard against the door as Jackson pushes him against it, the kiss heating up, getting wetter and dirtier as they lick into each other’s mouths and suck on their tongues. When Jackson grips his ass and lifts him, Stiles wraps his legs around Jackson, moaning into the kiss at the feel of Jackson’s erection rubbing against his own.
“You sure about this?” he asks, pulling back from the kiss and trying not to get distracted by Jackson’s wet swollen lips. “Don’t wanna do anything if you’re under the influence of fairy magic.”
“I’m sure. Wanted this before fairies adopted you,” Jackson says, leaning in for another kiss. Stiles returns the kiss and rolls his hips, grinding against Jackson as they battle for control of the kiss. It’s passionate and heated and consuming in all the best ways. Jackson tastes delicious, and Stiles wants more, needs more. He sucks on Jackson’s tongue, grinding a little harder, getting better friction.
“Oh God. Right there.” Stiles pants into the kiss, clinging to Jackson’s shoulders as he rocks back and forth, the door providing him with leverage so he can rub himself off against Jackson’s bulge. It feels so good, and it’s not even the lack of sex for six months since his break up with Malia became official-official talking. Jackson’s got an amazing mouth, and he’s more passionate than Stiles would have ever guessed.
“You’re so big,” Jackson whispers, stroking his free hand up Stiles’ shirt, rubbing at his nipple as he bites on Stiles’ lips. “I can feel you against me, and I wish we were naked, so I could feel your skin against mine. Later, I’m going to spread you open and eat you out then I’m going to fuck myself on your cock.”
“Yeah. Sounds so good.” Stiles leans forward and sucks a mark on Jackson’s neck that will probably be gone before they even finish, but he likes the noises Jackson makes as he’s marked. He bites down, listening to Jackson’s whimper, and he kisses the bite mark as he releases the skin. “Mine,” he says possessively, feeling his skin tingle as he nuzzles the mark. “Later, I’m going to fuck your pretty face, and, if you make me come really well, I’ll let you fuck me until I scream. Bruise me, mark me, make me yours.”
“Fuck, Stiles,” Jackson whines, biting down on Stiles neck as he grinds forward, body shuddering as he comes. Stiles still needs more, so he uses Jackson’s body to get off, rubbing and grinding and then he’s grunting as he comes in his sweatpants, soaking through his underwear easily.
The door suddenly swings open, and they almost fall back. Jackson manages to keep his balance, but Stiles has to cling on to him to avoid falling. Scott is standing there just staring at them, his nose wrinkled at the obvious scents he’s probably smelling. “Uh okay. Totally saw this coming between you two, but not exactly like this.” Scott steps back, looking slightly concerned. “Did you happen to bite each other?”
“Maybe?” Stiles feels his face flushing as he unwraps his legs from Jackson’s waist and stands up. Jackson doesn’t let go of him, growling softly when Scott gets too close. “Be nice,” he mutters, elbowing Jackson in the gut.
“We did. What of it?” Jackson demands, nuzzling the mark he left on Stiles’ neck.
“The fairies are gone,” Scott points out awkwardly. “Deaton had a visit from them about ten minutes ago, and he told me I needed to get here fast, but I guess I’m too late. You’ve both already claimed each other.”
“Too late for what?” Stiles arches a brow and looks at his best friend. “Why did they leave?”
“They told Deaton they’d been successful with their plan, which was apparently making you happy?” Scott shrugs at Stiles confused look. “I don’t know what you did, buddy, but someone called forth fairies to make your dreams come true or whatever. It seems Jackson’s that dream, by the way. I mean, I knew you two were one argument away from some rough sex, but I hadn’t realized it was more than that.”
“Well, of course I’m his dream,” Jackson says smugly. “He’s got excellent taste.”
“The fairies…they didn’t manipulate us, did they?” Stiles needs to know that Jackson’s actually consenting to this because, if not, he’s just….well, he doesn’t want to think about what it would mean if they’d just gotten off together when Jackson was under the influence of fairy magic.
“I don’t think so?” Scott makes a face. “I’ve been smelling his, uh, interest in you since I got turned, so they didn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to do. Deaton just said they followed a traditional fairy ritual that lowered inhibitions and forced honest communication, but he wasn’t concerned about them making you two have sex.”
“The tea and the cake,” Stiles murmurs, glancing at Jackson. “The tea made you unable to lie, and the cake made me uninhibited. That’s why I got so horny and wasn’t thinking everything through the way I normally would.”
“What kind of ritual was it?” Jackson asks Scott, his hand rubbing Stiles’ back in reassuring motions. “It seems pretty weird to be traditional.”
Scott actually blushes and suddenly finds everything but Stiles and Jackson interesting to look at. When Stiles clears his throat pointedly, Scott sighs and looks at them. “It’s a, uh, marriage ceremony. Fairy legal or whatever. You two just accidentally got married, it seems, with the whole biting thing. Unfortunately, the fairy way is pretty hardcore to terminate because there can’t be any love at all between the two of you to petition for an end to it.”
“Real funny, Scott. Now tell us the truth,” Stiles says, leaning into Jackson because what the hell?
“He’s telling the truth.” Jackson curses under his breath. “We’re fairy married, and we’re stuck because I have feelings for you. I’m sorry, Stiles. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been such a jackass and insisted on staying here and talking to them about you, they wouldn’t have ever done this.”
“It is your fault,” Stiles agrees, turning to look at Jackson. “But you’re not the only one with feelings, Jax. It’s your fault because you’re totally my type, a sarcastic asshole with gorgeous eyes and scathing wit, and it’s my fault that someone decided I needed fairy intervention for happiness, which I still think might have been someone’s plan to just fuck with my life a little bit instead of anything well-meaning. It backfired, though, since the fairies were matchmaking pervs.”
“I don’t want to know,” Scott tells them sincerely. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it in time to warn you about the fairy marriage thing, though. It isn’t recognizable by our laws, of course, so you don’t really have to acknowledge it unless you’re doing business with fairies.”
“Go home, McCall,” Jackson growls softly, his grip on Stiles tightening. “We don’t need you here right now.”
“Stiles?” Scott looks at him and seems satisfied by whatever he sees in Stiles’ eyes. “Okay. Well, congratulations then. I’m calling dibs on Best Man when you decide to do the human marriage. Jackson, if you hurt him, I’ll help him hide your body.”
“Dude, there isn’t going to be a human marriage any time soon! We just had our first kiss,” Stiles says, rolling his eyes. “Go away. I’ll text you later.”
“You’d better. I’ll fill in the rest of the pack so they’ll understand why Jackson’s being a growly prick,” Scott says, waving as he leaves the kitchen.
“So.” Stiles turns to face Jackson. “Fairy married, huh?”
“Looks that way.” Jackson smirks slightly. “I’m your dream come true, huh?”
“Looks that way.” Stiles slowly smiles. “I noticed that they left the rest of that cake.”
“Lowers inhibitions,” Jackson drawls, leaning in to lick at Stiles’ mouth. “Do you really think we need the cake for that?”
“Nope.” Stiles bites Jackson’s bottom lip and tugs. “But it might be fun to shut off our thoughts for another couple of hours while we fuck.”
“True.” Jackson reaches over to pick up a piece of the cake in his bare hands. He takes a bite of it and then offers it to Stiles. “Your turn, husband.”
“You totally can’t call me that around Dad until I figure out how to break this whole fairy marriage thing to him,” Stiles warns before he takes a bite of the cake. “I’ll race you to my bedroom, husband.” He grins as he darts away, laughing as Jackson gives chase. He’ll think about this whole marriage thing later. For now, he wants to just not think for a while and enjoy fulfilling some of the fantasies he’s had about Jackson over the years.