Chapter Text
John took a glass of milk up to Stiles’ room whenever they were both home for the night. It was a tradition born years before, and even though his boy could take care of himself perfectly by know, they never wanted to break it.
Stiles was sitting in his computer chair, clicking out of the window he was watching as soon as his father came in - John acted like he didn’t notice, trying to hide a smile.
“Hey, kiddo. Will you be up late?” he asked, placing the glass near Stiles’ laptop, in easy reach.
“Nope. I wanted to go on a raid with Scott, but he has a date, so… Actually, I’m pretty beat,” the boy said, stretching his long arms above his head before taking a large gulp of milk.
John watched him in amusement.
“Alright then, sweet dreams,” he said, stepping up to his boy and planting a kiss on his forehead. Stiles scrunched up his nose, but John knew it was just for show.
“Yeah, yeah. You too, pops!”
John closed the door after himself, checking his watch.
He waited forty minutes before going back. Stiles was asleep, still sitting in his chair with the empty glass on the corner of his desk.
“That’s my boy,” John said fondly. He adjusted Stiles so his head wasn’t hanging at such an awkward angle, then left to prepare everything downstairs.
Like clockwork, Alan was knocking on his door at eleven. John would have liked to do everything by himself, but honestly, Stiles was almost a grown man, and he wasn’t so young anymore.
The vet knew what to do by know, so they worked without too much chit-chat. Alan wasn’t very talkative anyway, and he understood that John liked to have a little time for himself.
They pushed the couch to the wall, rolled up the rug and then dragged in the worn, ratty mattress from the basement. John kept the pillows from the old couch too - they were still firm, and good to prop Stiles up against.
When they arranged everything they went up to get Stiles down the stairs. It was hard work with the dead weight of the boy, but they managed, and soon had him lying naked on the mattress.
John would have liked to have a bit more time, but he barely had enough to get the lube and the doorbell was already ringing.
Alan got down on his knees between Stiles’ legs and started to finger him with medical precision. There was a reason John didn’t mind to have him around, not to mention that he liked to know that there was someone with medical experience in the house.
Raf was the first.
It wasn’t surprising, really. John suspected that the man had always felt something for his son - lust, probably - and he was always the first to arrive when John sent out the text to their little group.
He let the man in, not wasting time on pleasantries; just because he allowed the guy to fuck his son occasionally, it didn’t mean that they had to like each other.
Raf headed straight to the living room and was already throwing his clothes off when John put a heavy hand on his shoulder.
“Didn’t you forget something, McCall?”
Raff’s mouth twisted in annoyance, but he did pull out a roll of banknotes from the pocket of his jeans.
“Here’s your fucking 500. You want us all to go bankrupt,” he said in a low voice, not like John was intimidated by him.
“You know where the door is,” he said calmly, and then watched Raf pull his thick, already hard cock from his boxers. No matter how much he grumbled, he always paid like clockwork.
John didn’t leave him alone with his son, though. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and then sat down on the couch, next to Alan.
Raf was a bit rough, as always, grabbing Stiles thighs and hauling his body up until his lower half was in the man’s lap. There was a reason they always prepared Stiles in advance; Raf didn’t even check to see if he was loose enough, just forced the large, flared head of his cock into Stiles’ hole, groaning when he bottomed out.
John took a sip of his bear, and just watched.
He was long over denying how much he enjoyed the sight of his boy being fucked. He couldn’t help thinking about what Stiles would think if he woke up to the father of his best friend hammering into him and grunting like an actual animal.
Stiles never wake up, though. No matter how much the powerful thrusts jarred his body, his face stayed relaxed, only the slowly spreading blush on his cheeks showing that his body was effected at all.
John adjusted himself, his son didn’t get hard every time they did this, but whenever he did, it was a treat. He liked to think that Stiles would enjoy all the attention these people payed him.
Of course, attention wasn’t the only thing they showered him in, and soon enough, Raf’s movements became jerky and almost violent, until his hips finally stilled on a muffled course.
That was the first load in his sweet boy’s bottom tonight.
Alan undressed slowly, waiting his turn patiently as Raf enjoyed the aftershocks of his orgasm. John really did like the vet. By now he also knew that Alan liked to go second, when there was already a thick dose of come in Stiles to make the slide smoother. He was always very quiet, and John was pretty sure that he particularly enjoyed the obscene, squelching sounds Stiles’ hole made when he started to quicken his movements.
Raf collapsed on the couch in Alan’s abandoned spot, chest glinting with sweat. He was usually quick to come the first time, and preferred to save his strength for the next round.
John was feeling generous - probably because he could see that Stiles’ cock twitched on occasion, promising to harden fully by the time the night was over - so he brought a beer for Raf too when he got another one for himself.
He barely handed the bottle over when the there was a knock on the door. John shot one last took at Alan fucking his boy in measured strokes before answering it.
It took him a moment to decide whether he should let Harris in, or not. If nothing else, the teacher deserved some punishment for causing Stiles to moan and groan about what an asshole he was the whole week.
Adrian must have seen his hesitation, because he was holding out the money before John could shut the door in his face.
They regarded each other for a few minutes, but then John sighed, letting him in. As pathetic as it was, the guy was completely infatuated with Stiles - even though he was very nasty at pulling pig-tails - and he decided to give him a break.
Alan still wasn’t finished, in fact, he looked like he could go on for hourst, but John didn’t mind it, Harris wasn’t going for that anyway.
The teacher made quick work of his clothes and then did his normal - no, actually pretty creepy - routine of greeting Stiles with a kiss.
For once, John felt like they were on the same wavelength with Raf as they watched with equally disturbed expressions on their faces as he was licking the sleeping boy’s mouth open, making desperate little moans.
“Freak,” Raf muttered under his breath, and John clinked their bottles together.
Harris made out with Stiles’ slack, unresponsive mouth for a few long minutes. He had a long, narrow cock, and by the time he had enough of kissing, it was already dripping precome.
Alan didn’t seem bothered by him, he didn’t stutter in fucking Stiles, even when Harris jostled him a bit as he made his way down to the boy’s feet.
Adrian was kind of a fetishist. Well, John was pretty sure that all of them were, but Adrian was definitely the worst.
He sat down at the end of the mattress, picking up one of Stiles’ legs and then proceeding to lick it all over, pulling the toes in his mouth one-by-one and bathing them with his tongue.
Sometimes, he could come just from that, but apparently tonight wasn’t like that. John actually shifted in his seat, wanting to see what the teacher did because he didn’t put anything shifty past him.
Harris wasn’t up for anything untoward, though. No, all he did was wedging his skinny, pale cock between Stiles’ big and second toes and used them to jerk off.
After making sure that everything was okay, John turned his attention on his beer. Harris looking like he was having a religious experience while fucking between his son’s toes was not something he wanted to see when he closed his eyes.
Raf waved at him to stay seated when the doorbell rang again - maybe thanks to the beer - and went to get it himself.
There was only one pair they were waiting for, so John wasn’t surprised by Peter and Talia Hale. What he was surprised about was Derek skulking in after his mother and uncle.
John stood, stopping them in the hallway, before the Hale kid could see too much. Thankfully both Alan and Harris were quiet enough not to be too obvious.
Talia kissed him on the cheek as always, while Peter shook his hand.
“Talia… I wasn’t expecting that you would bring a guest,” John said carefully.
The woman gave a little wink, pulling her son forward. Derek couldn’t even look at John, he was all flustered and practically shaking with tension.
“It’s fine, John. You know I would never get you in trouble.”
He raised an eyebrow. He could still remember Peter and Talia when they were all teenagers and all they ever did was getting John in trouble.
Peter patted his shoulder.
“Really, don’t worry about our boy. He’s been a recluse ever since that ugly business with that Kate woman. We thought if he could have a chance to blew some steam without consequences, he might get his head out of his ass.”
Derek frowned pulling his head down between his shoulders. John sighed. He didn’t like to be surprised like this, but if he knew one thing about the Hales, it was that they could keep a secret.
Talia grinned when he finally nodded in approval and pulled a thick envelop from her bag. Knowing her, it was probably around five grand, even though John only charged 500 by person.
“It’s a pleasure to do business with you,” she said teasingly before disappearing into the living room with her family. Raf and John followed after them.
Harris was already finished, sucking his own come from Stiles’ feet. He gave a dopey grin to Talia, and shifted to the other feet.
The woman smiled back at him.
“I see you’ve been hard at work, Adrian, thank you,” she said, while stripping out of her clothes. She didn’t go to Stiles immediately, instead she waited for her brother to get ready and then the both of them settled on the couch, necking like teenagers.
John shook his head fondly, pulling Derek into the room. The poor kid was frozen in the doorway with an expression of utter hunger on his face.
“Come on, son. Alan’t almost finished.”
Just as he said it, the vet gave a quiet groan and stopped with his cock buried deep in Stiles’ hole. John appreciated how thoroughly he worked the boy over - Stiles was always completely relaxed and loose afterwards.
When Alan pulled out John took at few seconds to really look at his son. Stiles was still sleeping peacefully, breathing softly thought his open mouth. His lips were red from where his teacher bit on them and there was a flush on his face, reaching down his neck and the top of his chest. His legs were fallen open, exactly like Alan left them, and between his thighs John could see as come was oozing out of his reddened, puffy hole. It looked delicious.
While he was admiring Stiles Derek undressed and was standing by him a bit helplessly.
“It’s completely fine. You can be as rough or as gentle as you want - he certainly won’t mind it - as long as you don’t leave any visible marks,” John told him, and the nodded, swallowing nervously.
He watched as Derek knelt. Even with his evident nerves, he was hard, and after a minute of hesitation, he pushed into Stiles’ well fucked hole.
John almost felt sorry for him. It was clear that he didn’t have much practice in fucking, and well… he came awfully fast, though it seemed he had a really big load saved up, because when he pulled back John could actually see as all that come just bubbled out of Stiles’ used, twitching hole.
“That was fast, Peter commented,” unbothered by his nephew’s murderous look.
John smiled, long used to Peter’s sharp tongue as he crouched down by his boy, swiping the hair from his forehead.
The night was still far from over.