It’s been a long week. There’s been a case down in Los Angeles that Stiles has been consulting on, so he’s been stuck in a hotel for days, and there’s probably another week left before he’ll be able to return to San Francisco. Since he was overly ambitious and triple majored in criminal justice, psychology, and computer information systems, his unique set of skills is often lent out to bureau offices in California when there’s a need. Occasionally, he even has to travel further, but Rafe usually avoids sending him too far out of their field whenever possible.
Rafe might be a total asshat dickhead most of the time, but he’s a damn good director and takes care of his people. It’s just too bad he couldn’t do the same to his own family. Stiles is thirty-four, though, and he’s learned to separate the personal from the professional. Director McCall can be a good boss while also being a terrible father, though he has made efforts in that regard a lot in the last fifteen years. Grandchildren have a way of making people more open to reconciliation, it seems.
“Do you really think I’m going to let you tune me out?” Jackson drawls in a lazy tone that matches the strokes he’s giving Stiles’ dick. “That’s not how you’re going to win this, babe.”
“Asshole,” Stiles mutters, forcing himself out of his mind and back to the present. He’s stuck in Los Angeles, but Jackson surprised him with a weekend visit to help take his mind off the case, so he’s definitely having a great end to a lousy week. However, Jackson’s idea for taking Stiles’ mind off things is to drive him crazy with lust until he’s a brainless whimpering mess.
“Yep.” Jackson smiles smugly as he drags his fingers along the underside of Stiles’ dick. “You’ve been down here four nights already. I think four is a good number for tonight, don’t you?”
“No, I think it’s horrible,” he mutters, bucking his hips up as Jackson jerks his dick. “You know, most husbands who surprise their spouse with a visit during a business trip have plans for like reunion sex and romantic shit like that.”
“I’m not most husbands,” Jackson declares in a pompous tone, his pretty blue eyes staring intently at Stiles’ face. “And this is romantic. Ask Cosmo. They wrote an article about it and everything.”
“That’s because edging is becoming trendy, not because they think it’s romantic,” Stiles points out, groaning when Jackson suddenly lets go of his dick. “Seriously?”
“You were getting close. As a caring husband, it’s my job to support you and help you achieve your goals,” Jackson tells him, the kind words totally betrayed by the wicked smile on his lips. “I’m merely helping you, Stiles.”
“Helping me go crazy.” Stiles wants to reach down and just jerk off, to finally come after nearly an hour of Jackson’s licks and touches and getting him so close he can practically taste it before pulling back. “It’s been way more than four, by the way.”
“Yeah, well, math isn’t my strong suit.” Jackson flutters his ridiculously long lashes and tries to look innocent but totally fails. “I’m thinking it’s only been once, maybe twice.”
“I hate you,” Stiles says the way other people say I love you. Jackson smiles and rewards him by licking the head of his dick, lapping at the pre-come that’s coating the swollen head before kissing his way down Stiles’ shaft.
“I have you, too,” Jackson murmurs against Stiles’ pubes. “So much.” He tongues Stiles’ balls, rolling the sack in his mouth before he tugs on the plug buried in Stiles’ ass. When he starts fucking Stiles with it, Stiles thinks maybe it’s finally time, that he’s earned his orgasm in Jackson’s mind, but he should have known better. Just as he’s starting to fuck back on the plug, feeling his balls starting to tighten, Jackson stops.
“Jackson!” Stiles groans a little loud than he probably should since they’re in his hotel room, but come on. This is ridiculous. Sure, he gets off on doing this at home. Giving and receiving. It’s fun to play tease and prolong orgasms sometimes. But it’s been a week without Jackson in his bed, a week of phone sex and jerking off, and he really just wants to come with his husband.
“What do you want, Stiles?” Jackson stares at him a moment, scenting the air and smiling smugly. “You’re enjoying this. I can hear your heartbeat, I can smell your arousal, and I know you like it when I play with you.”
“I do,” he admits, knowing there’s no point in denying something they both know. “And I trust you to give me what I need. But what I want right now is for you to slide your dick into my ass and fuck me until I come.”
“Not yet,” Jackson decides. He leans down and sucks Stiles’ dick into his mouth, bobbing his head up and down while fucking Stiles with the plug. It’s just too much. He’s so close, hips arching off the bed, fingers clenched in the sheets beneath him, and he’s almost there. Jackson looks up at him, his lips stretched around Stiles’ dick, and Stiles can’t help but whine as he bucks up more erratically.
Before he can come, Jackson pulls his mouth off his dick. Stiles can feel the tears in his eyes, blinking them away as he keeps bucking the air, too close to stop even without Jackson’s mouth on him. Fingers suddenly grip his balls tightly, making him roll his eyes back as he moans low in his throat. “Please, please, please,” he begs as he thrashes around on the bed, so damn needy that he’s past the point of trying to remain in control of himself.
“That’s what we were waiting for,” Jackson whispers, pulling the plug out before replacing it with his dick. He starts fucking Stiles hard, snapping his hips forcefully, obviously just as ready to come as Stiles is because he’s not teasing at all anymore. He leans forward to kiss him, licking into his mouth as he fucks Stiles deep and hard. He shifts ever so slightly, the new position rubbing his dick against Stiles’ prostate so perfectly that it’s ridiculous.
Stiles comes quickly, and he’d probably be embarrassed if he hadn’t spent an hour getting edged by his evil husband. He grunts against Jackson’s lips as his dick pulses between them, spurting out come onto his abdomen and Jackson’s, not even needing to be touched to come harder than he has in days. Jackson growls into the kiss when Stiles comes untouched, fucking a little faster, moving his face against Stiles’ neck and sucking a bruising mark that will be difficult to cover up with his work shirt, which the jerk probably realizes. He’s used to Jackson’s territorial werewolf shit after so many years together, and he actually gets off on it, just a little, but he’ll never admit that to Jackson, of course.
When Jackson sinks deep and moans, Stiles strokes his back as he comes. Jackson keeps moving, shallow thrusts until his dick is spent. They’re kissing again, slow and gentle, and Jackson pulls out eventually, pulling Stiles over with him so they’re on their sides. Their legs are tangled together, the sheets bunched up around them, and Stiles is so glad Jackson surprised him with this visit because the thought of not being able to kiss and touch for another week is too depressing to consider.
Of course, that doesn’t mean Jackson isn’t going to pay for his whole edging stunt. Oh no. Stiles will definitely be getting some revenge before Jackson heads back to San Francisco Sunday night. He’s thinking spanking should be fun.