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Stiles didn’t know when it started. He just… Really liked it when his cock was hurt.
It wasn’t a ‘revelation’ kind of thing, just that he learned that he liked jerking off while pulling on his balls, or twisting his hand just a bit too tight.
So yeah.
Then, he became better and better at going around the child protection on their internet, and with that he got deeper into porn. Porn where people had someone step on their cocks. Or got them slapped. Or fucking sounded. Fuck. He never even imagined that that was a thing.
He had never came harder when he realized what things could be done with a dick.
It wasn’t something he was proud of, actually, there was always some lingering shame in the back of his head that it wasn’t normal. But that didn’t mean that he could stop doing those things to himself in the privacy of his room. He didn’t dare go too far, afraid of… hurting himself permanently or something, but he still tried.
***
He would never have guessed that his whole life would be changed by a fucking five year old.
They were at the animal clinic, wanting to get some last minute advice from doc Deaton about the herbs needed to purge a couple of asshole poltergeists - he had no idea why Peter even came with him, it wasn’t like he couldn’t do it on his own.
Anyway. So the place was actually crowded for once. Apparently it was tick season. All the dogs backed away as soon as Peter stepped in, seriously, Stiles was kind of amazed that the whole town haven’t yet figured out werewolves.
They were just about to head to the back when Stiles managed to step on a dog’s tail. It was some kind of an ugly mix, but that didn’t make the whining any less pathetic. He was just about to sincerely apologize - because even ha wasn’t an asshole big enough to enjoy hurting animals - but the kid, who sat there with his mom acted first.
He fucking punched him in the balls.
Stiles could barely hear Peter snorting in amusement, he was too busy doubling over and falling to his knees. Fuck. Fuck that really hurt.
The mom was outraged, berating the kid and pulling him away, but Stiles didn’t really care. Peter looked at him for a long moment as he whined on the floor - pretty much like the stupid dog did a few seconds ago - but then decided to be merciful and helped him up.
Deaton took that moment to appear, motioning for them to come in.
***
He didn’t think much of the whole thing. He didn’t notice Peter giving him sideways glances, or Deaton looking at him lost in thought from time to time.
So yeah, he wasn’t really prepared.
***
Sure, there was some… ugh. Sexual tension between him and Peter. It was nothing new, really. Just a ‘them’ thing ever since they’ve first met that everyone just rolled their eyes on.
Still, he didn’t expect to get a message on his twenty first birthday - spent resting after a run in with fucking vampires the day before - that was… He was pretty sure it was an offer to have sex.
Now, Stiles has done sex before, okay? He wasn’t a virgin or anything, though truth be told, he didn’t exactly enjoy it quite as much as he hoped. Probably because not all of his… needs were met.
For a few seconds he had no idea what to do about Peter. He had a suspicion that it was a trick, some game the werewolf was playing on him, but well.
Dinner at mine? Didn’t actually sound too nasty.
His dad had a night shift, they’ve already decided to celebrate on the weekend and the others were still licking their wounds so it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
In the end he just picked up his keys and said Fuck it.
***
The second surprise of the evening was the fact that they weren’t going to have sex. Not even a dinner for two. Because apparently doc Deaton was there too. Stiles felt like he stumbled into an alternate universe, even more so when he saw how familiar the two men were with each other. It wasn’t just that they knew each other, because of course.
But there was a certain sense of closeness as they moved around in Peter’s kitchen, Deaton knowing exactly where everything was, like he had been there a thousand times before.
Stiles felt like a third wheel. He was almost about to make up some excuse and just go when Peter handed him a glass of wine.
“Come on, Stiles. Don’t look so down, Alan is doing a mean lasagna. It’s not something I usually consider a celebratory meal, but we were sure that it’s one of your favorites,” he said, smiling at him over the rim of his own glass.
And for some reason that was the exact second when he realized that these two were actually together. Like, together-together.
Well fuck. So much for having sex tonight.
He had no idea what he was even doing here. Did they think it was pathetic that he was staying home on his birthday? Probably, with his luck.
Stiles knew that he really should just go, but a small part of him couldn’t help thinking that there was something more. Also, free food.
***
The lasagna was actually heavenly. He was pretty sure there was witchcraft involved somehow. To his surprise, he did actually enjoy the dinner; doc Deaton told him to call him Alan and was surprisingly good company when he wasn’t a cryptic asshole.
The vet barely sat down after putting the dessert on the table - brownies, yum - when Peter took a sip from his wine and looked at Stiles.
“So, you like to have your balls busted?”
Stiles choked on his brownie, inhaling a few crumbs in horror.
Alan tutted.
“Peter,” the man said in a withering tone.
“What?” the werewolf asked as he patted Stiles on the back a few times. “He does. I could smell it.”
“What,” Stiles wheezed, eyes blurry from almost being killed by fucking brownies. This was turning out to be a nightmare.
“It’s fine, you don’t have to answer,” Alan said.
“No, you don’t. I know the truth anyway,” Peter nodded.
Well, shit.
“I… I think I have to go,” he whimpered, but before he could bolt for the door Peter grabbed his arm, keeping him seated.
“Wait. We have a proposition for you,” he said, fingers a bit too tight.
Stiles could feel his whole face heat up. This was probably the most humiliating experience he ever had.
“What Peter wants to say - and what he should have let me bring up,” Alan said, the we talked about this obvious in his voice “Is that… We would be happy to help you discover that side of your sexuality, if you’re willing.”
Holy fuck.
“So, like, what?” Stiles had no idea what was happening. Was he actually offered a threesome with two - hot - older men? That didn’t usually happen to him. Or, you know, at all.
“So, like,” Peter said, and really, did he have to make fun of Stiles right this moment? “We happen to be into hurting cocks and you happen to have a cock that’s just itching to be hurt. In or not?”
Stiles looked around with wide eyes. Were they… were they actually serious? It was bad enough that his secret was out, but there was no way he could do this with them. Both of them. At the same time.
No way.
“Okay,” he said.
***
They took him to the bedroom. It was as elegant as he imagined Peter’s to be, except he could also see some books on animal anatomy on the shelves and a white cloak hanging on the back of a chair. It kind of made him want to bolt again, but he was stopped - this time by Alan stepping close and kissing him.
This wasn’t his first time getting kissed, but… there was something so confident in the way the man was fitting their lips together that it made his toes curl.
He could feel the warmth of Peter’s body behind him, pressing against his back and running his tongue up his neck. Fuck.
“So,” the werewolf whispered right into his ear as Alan kept playing with his tongue, “Do you have any experience with CBT?”
Stiles shivered. He couldn’t even speak, but apparently Peter was excellent in reading him.
“No? Do you just like do it when you’re alone? Pinching and squeezing that sweet little cock until your eyes cross?”
He moaned into Alan’s mouth, hands clenching where they held into the vet’s shirt.
Peter chuckled.
“I bet you do. You just love it, don’t you? Well, we are going to take very, very good care of you,” he promised.
Alan opened his zipper - mindful of the bulge pressing against it and fished out his cock without bothering with the button at the top. Stiles was way too preoccupied to pay attention, because Peter’s arms were around him, pinching his nipples through his shirt and sanding zaps of pleasure down his spine.
Alan gave him a few cursory strokes before pulling his balls out too, and by the time Stiles noticed that Peter was basically caging his arms in with his cock and balls hanging out of his jeans it was too late to do anything about it.
His breath quickened as the vet stepped away, giving him a long, considering look.
“The thing is,” he said while Peter bit at the soft skin of his neck “that we both happen to have a bit of a sadistic streak, but as it happens, neither of us enjoy being on the receiving end of that kind of attention.”
Stiles whined. He couldn’t move with the werewolf behind holding him tight. The air was cold on his cock and he felt incredibly vulnerable with his private bits exposed for everyone to see.
He was so hard it hurt.
“So, what should we do with you?” Alan asked. The fact that he seemed to be talking to Stiles’ dick was just oil to the fire. Fuck. Fuck he was in deep shit.
Peter hummed, the sound of it resonating in his chest as it was pressed to his back.
“I think we could test the waters, take the edge off.”
Alan nodded and stepped a bit closer. Stiles had no idea what he was about to do, so when he slapped his aching cock he went on his tiptoes with a cry.
“I love that sound,” Peter purred, Stiles too dizzy to decide whether he meant his, or the crack of skin hitting skin “do it again.”
The vet did, slapping his cock again and again. He started out carefully, but with every whine and jerk of Stiles’ body he put more strength behind the hits.
He was going to go mad. His cock was stinging and red and in pain… and it refused to go soft, dribling out precome with every new blast of pain.
“He likes it hard,” Peter murmured, like Stiles wasn’t even there.
“Just as well,” Alan said, hitting him again.
It was the hardest yet, hard enough that his cock bounced, slapping back, the cold metal of the button on his jeans digging in, the edge of it catching on the rim of his crown.
Stiles came so hard that he would have fallen if not for Peter keeping him up.
***
By the time the aftershocks of his orgasm subsided he was naked on the bed, not really remembering how he got there.
He felt absolutely boneless, but when Peter prodded him he moved, obeying on instinct. The werewolf lay on his back and made him kneel over his head, nudging his knees apart until his balls were dangling right over the man’s mouth.
His cock was soft, but gave a valiant little twitch when Peter’s beard brushed his naked ballsack. Fuck, why the fuck did he think shaving there was a good idea?
He didn’t know where Alan was until he felt a pair of warm hands parting his asscheeks.
“Going to fuck you,” the vet promised, dribbling lube over his crack. It was cold, making him flinch. Alan slapped his ass.
“I advise you to stay very, very still. You wouldn’t want to get hurt, now, would you?”
Stiles had no fucking idea what he was talking about, but as soon as the first finger entered his hole - followed quickly by a second - Peter was grabbing his thighs and opening his mouth, sucking his balls inside.
It was the single weirdest, most adrenaline inducing feeling in the world to experience the werewolf shifting under him; blunt, human teeth lengthening, going sharp and deadly as they dig into the thin skin of his sack.
Fuck.
He whined, high pitched and desperate, though he had no idea if he wanted to get free, or actually wanted Peter to do it, to squeeze those deadly canines just a bit tighter, just until it started to hurt.
He barely noticed that Alan was already up to three fingers, only noticing the absence of the stretch when he pulled out.
He couldn’t move, too scared of what Peter might do, but it was incredibly hard when the vet finally entered him - slow and steady and torturous.
Alan grunted when he bottomed out, pinching Stiles ass hard, just to feel his hole constrict around him. It shocked him, and he couldn’t help jerking forward. Bad idea. Very bad idea.
Even that small movement was enough to pull on his sack, Peter’s deadly teeth catching and making him scream. He didn’t think the skin broke. Only his sanity. He was getting hard again.
Peter growled around his balls, clawed hands digging into his thighs, painful and sharp and perfect.
Alan was fucking him, slow and languid.
“You like that, don’t you? You know, Peter is not exactly known for his self-control. And when he’s shifted, his wolf is ever closer to the surface… You have to be a very good boy unless you want the big bad wolf to swallow you whole.”
Stiles was… crying. Sort of. He didn’t think it was bad though, as ashamed as he was about loving this, he just felt… completely overwhelmed.
Peter’s tongue was caressing his balls, rubbing against the sensitive skin, soothing the previous pinpricks of pain away.
Alan was getting really into it, slamming his hips forward hard, slapping and pinching his ass from time to time. So good. So fucking good.
He had no fucking clue how he got hard again so fast, but before he knew it, he was already on the edge.
It must have been visible in some way, because Alan immediately noticed, speeding up too and leaning forward to push his chest on the bed, hand tight on the nape of his neck.
“Again? I have to tell you, I didn’t expect you to be so enthusiastic,” he said, but the tone was enough to tell Stiles the truth, that Alan thought that he was a pathetic, desperate pain slut.
He buried his face into the pillow and reached down with a shaking hand until his fingers found Peter. He could feel the scratchy sideburn of his beta-change and he pushed his thumb against the corner of his mouth, feeling the sharp teeth sitting behind the soft lips. He kept making noises, embarrassing, needy little moans, and he only grew louder when Alan suddenly pushed a finger into his hole beside his cock.
Fuck. Fuck that burn was so good.
“Ready?” Alan asked, and he was a second too late to realize that it wasn’t meant for him.
There was a short growl and then Peter was biting down on his balls, teeth clamping down hard and fast and blinding and Alan pushed both of his thumbs inside, pulling his ass impossibly wide as he pushed his cock so deep that Stiles could feel it in his belly.
He screamed into the pillow, vision going white and then black as he came for the second time that night.
***
It was morning when he woke up. For a second he didn’t understand where he was or what happened, but as soon as he shifted he had to hiss. Fuck, his cock hurt, and his balls were even worse.
Last night came back all at once, making him freeze in something between embarrassment and horror.
“Hush,” Alan said from beside him, throwing a hand over his waist. “Peter gets grumbly when he is woken up too early.”
Stiles didn’t even dare to breath, but then the blanked covered lump on his other side moved, inching closer and growling softly.
“See. Better give him an hour more,” the vet whispered, fingers tightening on his skin and setting the bruises already there alight.
Stiles swallowed thickly.
“Sleep,” Alan said, voice with a bit more bite behind it.
Stiles closed his eyes obediently. He could do that. For now.