“Oh fuck me Isaac, Isaac oh my god yes, yes, please--”
Isaac pulls his wet, warm mouth off Stiles’s nipple and speaks over his pathetic whine at the loss, sexy-ass voice in competition with the genuine smile gracing his face, making him too beautiful for Stiles to handle, especially right fucking now. “Maybe later, yeah?”
Stiles groans, hips bucking up to fuck Isaac’s hand. “Yeah, yeah, later you can finger my ass, split me open with your cock, fuck me raw Isaac I’m gonna fucking come shit--”
Isaac fits their mouths together and Stiles can’t even breathe, his toes curl and he comes against the fabric of his boxers because holy fuckIsaac’s mouth feels so good. Why weren’t they kissing earlier? They should kiss more, this should be a thing.
He unlocks his fingers from where they’re laced at the back of Isaac’s neck and roves them into Isaac’s unbearably soft hair, and when Isaac moans low into his mouth it his him that this is the first time he’s ever kissed a boy. Wow. Yeah, this is good.
Honestly, the kiss lasts just as long as the hand job, warm and delicate and surprisingly chaste. Stiles is panting and shivering as Isaac pulls away regardless (or maybe because) of any painful sweetness. His eyes don’t want to focus, but Isaac isn’t having that problem. That look cuts into his chest, draws his consciousness forward a little.
“My turn?” And it’s an honest-to-god, question, fuck, like Stiles hasn’t been dying to get his fingers on Isaac’s anything--
“Oh yeah, your turn, Isaac you’re so fucking sexy fuck do you really wanna fuck me?” It’s near impossible for Stiles to believe that something he’s been fantasizing about since the rave could become his reality, even though Isaac’d been the one to shove him onto the bed and beg to touch him.
They should fight more. Good things happen when they realize they both look incredibly hot angry.
Even thinking about this is making him want to get hard again just for the amazing sensation of Isaac getting him off, but it is Isaac’s turn, and he unbuttons Isaac’s pants and twists his hand inside them without preamble. Isaac’s whole body moves to lean into him, against him, like he needs this, and Stiles doesn’t know, he might. After the first stroke, Isaac whines and digs his nails into Stiles’s shoulders, twisting his head to suck on the point of Stiles’s jaw under his right ear.
They go for three more rounds before they fall against each other and sleep, both just a bit better than they’re accustomed to.
“We are never going to get this fucking project done.” Isaac smiles bright at him, making Stiles’s heart beat a lot faster than it ought to. Stiles has to maintain some semblance of aloofness, though. He rolls his eyes and mouths over Isaac’s boxers until Isaac can’t make any facial expressions but the one that means ‘oh god please’ and can’t use his beautiful mouth for anything besides begging for more.
Stiles doesn’t need any more reminding about how hard they’re going to fail.
The final day before they go back to school, Isaac bursts out laughing in bed, where they’re quietly laying post-alternating-blowjobs.
This is a surprise for two reasons. Reason One: Stiles has only heard Isaac chuckle at best, and this could be described as damn-near giggling. Reason Two: After all the sarcastic shit Stiles has spouted, after all of the great and opportunistic one liners, Isaac chooses to laugh like a sunrise when Stiles is silent as fog.
Stiles barely resists the urge to push against Isaac’s body with his feet until Isaac slips off the bed and fucking crashes on the floor. “Wha-aat?” Shit, he sounds so whiney.
Isaac breathes deeply a few times, every exhale a tiny ‘whew’, and manages to say “Stiles” before he erupts again. Stiles squirms forward and kisses at his neck until Isaac is gasping and squirming, but...motherfucker, he’s still laughing. “Isa-aac.”
Isaac shakes his head and closes his eyes, delivering each word slowly, because if he doesn’t he’ll probably bust into a fit again. “Tomorrow we have to give an oral presentation.” Stiles looks up at Isaac’s face and there are actual tears on his cheeks, fuck this is apparently the funniest thought Isaac’s ever had.
Stiles wishes that he could get Isaac to laugh like that. He rests his head against Isaac’s chest until it stops trying to bounce him up and down and Isaac’s fingers drizzle through his hair. Stiles is drifting off a little when Isaac speaks again.
“Wanna see if I get an ‘A’?”
Within minutes Stiles awards Isaac an honorary Ph. D. in oral...presentations, and is rewarded with the delightful sensation of Isaac laughing around his dick.
“Dude, stop smiling at me like that, you’re gonna give it away.” Stiles playfully shoves Isaac’s shoulder and Isaac shoves him right back, hands lingering far too long in both cases.
They spot Scott weaving his way through the students crowding the fuck out of the hall long before he actually wanders up to them, and he immediately launches on the one subject that is likely to make Stiles literally vomit. “Okay, I have got this. Me and Greenburg worked on this almost as much as you guys did, we’re all gonna get ‘A’s.”
Stiles has been telling Isaac not to break for nearly four days now but at that he busts wide open, dissolving into more than belly laughs, more than giggles--he has to lean on Isaac to steady himself, and Isaac’s arm goes around his waist like it belongs there.
And maybe it does.
When he manages to pick his head back up Scott is staring at them with huge eyes, horror streaking over his face, and Stiles has a flash that something he’s never anticipated is happening until Scott says “So you didn’t prepare anything? It’s a seven minute presentation, it accounts for twenty fucking percent of your grade.”
Stiles turns to look at Isaac, see how he’s taking the news.
There’s a huge, genuine smile on his face, and it’s directed right at Stiles. “Dunno, Stiles says I’m pretty good at oral.”
Stiles blushes and hides his face in Isaac’s shoulder while Scott laughs, and he feels Scott patting his back but he just folds himself more into Isaac. “Oh my god, you guys are so screwed. Wow. By the way, why wasn’t I let in on this like the second it started?”
Stiles mutters “Well we told Greenburg, we figured he’d let you in on it, considering how hard you worked on this” and Isaac squeezes him tight and laughs in three bright bursts that make Stiles’s whole fucking life.