Work Text:
Scott hates this idea.
Yes, he's a new werewolf and that means he has fangs and claws and everything, and of course Stiles wants to touch all of it because hello! Scott's the first werewolf they ever met! But that doesn't mean Scott wants Stiles' fingers in his mouth, touching his fangs, okay? Well, he would like Stiles fingers in his mouth, definitely, it's a regular fantasy of his --have you seen Stiles' fingers?-- but not like this! Not when Stiles has no idea the impact he has on Scott's changing body that feels everything 10,000% more! It's mortifying.
Of course he lets Stiles do it anyway.
He should've known that Stiles was planning something when he came rushing into Scott's house complaining about being bored and hungry. They ate leftover pizza from the fridge, then migrated up to Scott's bedroom where they tried to play video games on Scott's computer, but it was a million years old and he was already distracted by Stiles deciding to practically sit in his lap and share the seat instead of pulling up his own seat, so they were losing. Badly. Scott was already used to Stiles' lack of personal space, but this is ridiculous. Scott was trying not to think about Stiles and the smell of his shampoo or the mint gum in his mouth that he kept smacking on or the heat radiating off his side onto Scott from every point they were touching. Which was practically from shoulder to knee. So you could say he was a little distracted and confused when Stiles said, "Hey, can you show me your fangs?"
"What?" Scott said in a daze, color already high on his cheeks.
Stiles, ever oblivious, said, "Your fangs, dude. Honestly, I'm trying not to take offense to the fact you haven't shown me them already."
Scott blinked at Stiles uncomprehendingly. It's a little hard to focus when his vision was now 20/20 and he could see the golden flecks of light in Stiles' eyes as clear as day. "My fangs." he said dumbly.
Stiles nodded profusely. "Yes! Your fangs that are in your mouth and are the coolest things I've ever seen." He said loudly. Scott felt warmth pooling in his chest at the compliment.
"Uh, okay." Scott said. He had to concentrate to only let his fangs drop, instead of his whole face changing into the ugly wolf face. He got up and closed his eyes shut, trying to ignore Stiles. He opened his eyes when he felt confident it was just his fangs out, and nearly yelped at Stiles' proximity.
"Dude!" Scott groaned, putting a few inches in between them again. They were almost kissing distance then! Which is so not helping. Now Scott's thinking about kissing, and is his face red as a tomato yet? He feels like it is!
Stiles had no care in the world. He came closer once again, his mouth open in amazement. "They look so real." He muttered, craning his face closer to Scott's mouth like it was a museum display. Every time he did, Scott got another whiff of Stiles' scent. Scott knows Stiles scent is not this good always, but for some reason his inner wolf or whatever Derek calls it was bouncing off the walls at the smell, wagging his metaphorical tail.
"They are real." Scott groaned, craning his head back trying, to no avail, to get away from Stiles, just enough so he could breathe properly and calm down. Stiles hummed and then did the unthinkable. Quick as a flash, he reached out and touched his fingers to the fangs, putting them fully in Scott's mouth.
Oh my god. Scott thought meekly. This is how he dies, from embarrassment, as his best friend realizes how gone he is for him because Stiles just had to be curious. He tried to stop all the blood in his body from pooling down there.
"Ouch!" Stiles said, removing his fingers finally. He whipped his hand around then put his finger in his mouth. "They're really sharp." He said through the fingers in his mouth and okay this is worse, now Scott's watching Stiles suck on his literal finger.
"Are-are you okay?" Scott said, his voice incredibly breathless. Stiles' lips were so pink.
Stiles nodded, taking the finger out. "I'm fine." He squinted at Scott. "Are you?"
Scott turned, incredibly, more pink. "I'm fine! Totally! Just..I'll be right back." He was ashamed by how fast he ran to his bathroom.
Looking in the mirror, his face was so red. Looking down, he saw something worse--his boner. Oh my god. Scott groaned. This is so not good. The saving grace was Stiles was thankfully oblivous to it all, not noticing how weird Scott was acting.
"You good?" Stiles called from outside. "Was it the pizza?"
"Uh, yeah!" Scott yelled back, trying to think about everything but his best friend outside. Dogs dying. His mom dying. Okay that did the trick, and made him really sad too. Sighing loudly, he quickly flushed the toilet and splashed water on his face, praying the blush would fade as fast as his boner did.
When he came out, Stiles was laying on his bed, his head hanging off the edge, tossing a lacrosse ball in the air. Scott was just happy there wasn't any skin showing on Stiles otherwise he might've went back inside the bathroom and not come out until Stiles was home.
"Hey!" Stiles said, looking at Scott upside down. He got up quickly, turning right up side to gaze at Scott questioningly.
"Were you weirded out by me touching your fangs or something?" He asked suddenly, the questioning look still on his face. Scott felt a pang of guilt. He never wanted to make Stiles feel like he did something bad.
"No, of course not." Scott said, coming to lay down next to Stiles. "I'm used to your weirdness." Stiles laid back down as well.
"Hey, one of us is a werewolf and it's not me." Stiles remarked. "That makes you more weird than me."
Scott raised a eyebrow at Stiles incredulously. They were laying down side by side but Scott was by Stile's knees and Stiles had a clear view of Scott's feet. "It was a compliment." He pointed out.
Stiles threw the lacrosse ball on Scott's stomach, causing him to let out a oof. "Wanna see what we can do with your fangs?" He said with a grin, eyebrows waggling in a way that made Scott laugh.
"I don't even wanna know what that means." He said, although he was definitely curious. He let Stiles pull him up until they were both standing, then let him drag him by the arm downstairs.
Scott may be in love with his best friend.
He knew this for a while now, but watching Stiles pull ingredients out of his fridge, because they were going to see if Scott's fangs were better than a knife at cutting vegetables of course, Scott was happy. He could live with loving his best friend, even if said best friend could never love him back, if it meant he can spend moments like this doing stupid stuff together.
Everything was worth it, as long as he had Stiles.
