Stiles is sixteen when he manifests.
It's not that he wasn't expecting it. He's known for six years that he has the gene, that it could happen in just a matter of time. But it still manages to catch him by surprise.
It's subtle at first, so subtle he doesn't realize. Maybe he's a little hungrier than usual and can't quite seem to get enough to eat. And he's horny, like, all the time. But these are symptoms of being a human teenager, so he doesn't realize it's anything but that.
But then he goes to a party and ends up kissing Heather in the corner, a little tipsy and a lot into it. Until Heather pulls away and slurs out, "I'm drunker than I thought," and then proceeds to faint.
Stiles helps her over to the couch, enlists one of her friends to watch over her, and hightails it home.
His dad isn't there when he lets himself in, so he trudges up the stairs and goes to his room. He kicks off his shoes, then buries himself under his covers, fully dressed.
It all makes sense now. He knows what's going on.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck."
Monday morning comes and his dad leans in his doorway. "You going to school today?"
Stiles hasn't moved much from where he landed Saturday night. He's gotten up a couple times to eat and use the bathroom, but that's mostly it. He's well aware that hiding under his blankets isn't a good solution long-term, but for now it's the best idea he's got.
"No," he mumbles. It probably comes out really distorted and muffled from under his covers.
His dad moves closer. Stiles sighs as the blanket is moved back away from his face. He squints at the light.
"Sick?" his dad asks.
Stiles looks at him. There's some concern there in his dad's eyes. Stiles doesn't know how to tell him what happened.
"I manifested," Stiles tells him, and closes his eyes again. He doesn't want to see whatever his dad's face does next. He pulls the blanket back up for good measure.
Stiles groans. He flips the blanket back down. "I made Heather pass out."
His dad's eyebrows go up. "I didn't know you and Heather were dating."
Stiles snorts. "We aren't. It was a party, we both… well. We were just messing around. We're just friends, dad."
"Is that the only time you've fed?" his dad asks. It makes Stiles flush with mortification. He does not want to talk about this.
"Yeah," he answers awkwardly.
"You know what this means, right?"
Ugh. Stiles has been trying desperately not to think about it. If he could just… not leave his bed, it wouldn't be a problem. Except for the gnawing hunger he's already starting to feel. And… yeah. He knows what it means.
His dad sighs when Stiles doesn't answer. "I'll call the Center." He pats Stiles's leg and gets up.
Stiles groans and turns over, shoving his face into his pillow. Maybe if he suffocates himself, he won't have to deal with this.
The Center makes room for him right away. Of course they do — incubi and succubi are high priority. Can't have newly manifested sex demons running around willy-nilly. He says as much on the ride over.
"I know you kids these days are all about reclamation, but I don't like to hear you talk about yourself like that. Especially when it means you'd be calling your mother a sex demon, and I don't appreciate that, either."
"Sorry, dad," Stiles mutters, flushing.
"We knew this could happen. I just wish we'd prepared more for it."
"How?" Stiles asks. "What could we have possibly done?"
His dad stops at a traffic light and pins him with a look. "I should have done more to get you used to the idea. Are you ashamed of what you are, Stiles? Because you're acting like this is the end of the world."
Stiles slouches down low in his seat. "Light's green."
His dad shakes his head and eases on the gas. He's going slowly, though. Like he usually does when he wants to prolong a drive so they can talk.
"I'm not… not ashamed, exactly. Because of Mom, and I got this from her. I guess I'm kind of embarrassed, though." He shrugs and looks out the window. "Any idea what they're gonna do at the Center?"
"You know you have to go in for a while," his dad says.
"I figured." Stiles taps his fingers on his lap. "Don't worry, I packed enough for a few days, and if I have to stay longer, you can bring more. Or maybe they have a laundry."
"We're lucky we have places like the Center. When your mother manifested, society was still debating whether centers were needed at all."
Stiles smiles. "Yeah, I know. And you both had to walk to school barefoot in the snow, uphill both ways."
"Not quite, smartass," his father grumbles. He's quiet for a minute, looking at Stiles out of the corner of his eye. Then, "You okay with this? Really?"
Stiles chews his lip. Then he shrugs. "I guess I have to be. This is me, right?"
"Yeah. This is you." His dad pulls into the parking lot for the Beacon County Supernatural Center and Stiles tries not to look at the building like it's his new prison.
The intake is ridiculous. They take his shoelaces. Stiles doesn't understand until the nurse, Alyssa, explains.
"A lot of newly turned or manifested supernaturals are suicidal. This is just a precaution."
"O...kay. I'm just gonna flat out tell you, I'm not going to kill myself," Stiles says.
Alyssa smiles. "Good to know. But no shoelaces. You can keep the pillow you brought, though."
He's given a room by himself, which is also explained. "We don't want any accidents happening with a roommate. You'll have donors to feed from, but sometimes there are.. problems."
Stiles rolls his eyes, but he is feeling hungry. "When do I meet a donor? I mean, is there… do we get to talk first? Can I pick what kind I want? Is it… I mean..."
"You can talk to our donors before initiating anything."
"Okay. So what do I do when I'm not in here?" Stiles asks, putting his bag on his bed.
"Before you interact with any of our other guests, we should go over some of the basics. Do you know the details, how these feeding sessions are set up?"
Stiles blushes. "I don't even know how to feed!"
Alyssa laughs. "It's instinct. You'll pick it up right away."
He rubs at the back of his neck. "Uh, and I need just… sexual energy, right? So maybe a donor could, um, take care of themselves and I'll just… suck that up? If I can? Oh god, I mean the energy, not anything else."
Alyssa laughs and sits down in a plastic chair. "Okay, I see we have a lot to go over. Have a seat and I'll talk you through it."
Stiles sits down heavily, the bed bouncing under his weight.
"For your first feeding, we'll have you in a room with your donors, but you'll be separated by some wire mesh. That way, if you lose control, you can't hurt them or take more than you need. We'll start you off with a couple-"
"A couple? Are they going to have sex in front of me?" Stiles asks, his voice going way higher than he wants it to.
Alyssa shrugs. "If they want to and you agree. It's up to them, how far they want to go, and up to you with how comfortable you are."
Stiles takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He doesn't need to get worked up over this. It's a part of his life, now. He had his freakout at home for two days, hiding in his room. Now's the time to get down to the nitty gritty.
"We want to teach you control, and also how to feed off ambient energy. Maybe the couple will put on some music and dance a little. Maybe they'll make out. You need to learn to take energy from different situations."
Stiles didn't realize he could feed like that. He perks up. "That's all?"
Alyssa shakes her head. "Not at all. You can't live off ambient energy. It's like.. a snack, between meals."
"Oh." Stiles sighs. "Should've known it wouldn't be so easy."
"We're calling in someone for tomorrow that you can feed from directly. That's when things get a little more hands on." Alyssa smiles. "You have a couple of options, though. Would you prefer a man or a woman?"
Stiles swallows hard. "Um… either? Or both? I mean, either one's fine."
Alyssa laughs. "Okay. I'll see who's available. Now, do you have any more questions?"
"I thought I knew everything about succubi and incubi but something tells me my research was incomplete. Do you have anything I can read about it, stuff you can't find on the internet? Because I never knew this about the ambient energy and that's something I would've liked to have known."
"As much as society has progressed, people are still prudes, in a way. Correct information is hard to find. But we do have some literature you can read. Plus… I think you'd do well with a mentor. Someone who's been where you are now."
And suddenly Stiles misses his mom so much.
Stiles reads what he's given right up until it's time to meet with his first donors. He learns more about his new abilities now than he had in the first sixteen years of his life. Why didn't his dad ever tell him about how he could… or that he was...
Well. That would have been awkward. Maybe it's better to learn through an informative leaflet or two.
There's a knock on his door.
Alyssa peeks her head in. "It's time."
Stiles raises his eyebrows. "You're still on shift?"
"It's better to deal with someone you know through your first feeding."
"Is that policy or something?" Stiles asks.
"Nah. I volunteered." She shrugs. "I don't mind."
"Oh." Stiles puts the pamphlets aside and stands up. "So, we're going?"
Alyssa smiles. "Yeah, c'mon."
Stiles follows Alyssa to another part of the Center and tries not to show how nervous he is.
"Here. Go on in," Alyssa says, and hangs back.
Stiles stares at the door. "You're not coming with me?"
"Do you want me to?" she asks.
Stiles thinks about what might happen and shakes his head. "I guess not."
"I'll be next door, watching on a monitor with your doctor."
"...I have a doctor now?"
"Stiles, you were assigned someone right away, as soon as we started your paperwork. You haven't had a chance to meet with her because she's been busy with other guests, but yes. You have a doctor, Caroline Bright."
"Is she any good?" Stiles murmurs.
Alyssa rolls her eyes and smiles. "Yes, Stiles. She's great."
He takes a deep breath. Lets it out slowly. "And I can't hurt anyone like this, right? It's just ambient energy, and there'll be wire mesh between us." He says it more to himself than Alyssa, but she nods anyway.
"Just like we talked about."
"Okay. I can do this."
"You can," Alyssa says, and gives him a thumbs up.
He's hungry. He has to learn to do this. He's doing it. He opens the door and steps into the room.
He sees the camera first, set up in the corner. He tries not to think about being watched. There's a chair for him to sit in, the expected wire mesh that runs from floor to ceiling, and on the other side a couple. They look about college age. The girl is attractive, the guy slightly less so, but Stiles doesn't think that will matter.
They're both looking at him with interest. He waves awkwardly. "Hi. I'm Stiles."
"How old are you?" the girl asks.
Stiles clears his throat. "Sixteen. I, um, just manifested. So you guys are my first time. Be gentle, I'm a virgin?" He laughs nervously.
The guy seems to take it in stride, though the girl's eyes are wide. The guy nods and says, "I'm Patrick. This is Gabby, my girlfriend. You nervous?"
"What gave it away?" Stiles mutters.
Patrick and Gabby both laugh. Gabby says, "My dad's an incubus, but I don't have the gene. It's cool, I just was expecting someone older. They said you were new, but I didn't… didn't think what that meant."
Knowing Gabby's father is like him makes Stiles relax. They aren't here to judge, they're donors. They're here to help.
"Okay. So um, thanks for doing this, by the way," Stiles says.
Gabby leans into her boyfriend and smiles. "Wanna get started?"
Stiles nods. There's already a low level of something in the room, and it feels… like the guy. Stiles isn't entirely sure, but he thinks Patrick likes the idea of being watched. Maybe he's an exhibitionist. The pamphlets said that in time, Stiles will be able to manipulate sexual energy, but for right now, he can't. At least, he doesn't think so. He wouldn't know where to even start.
Gabby turns so that her back is to Patrick, and he leans in to kiss her neck. She closes her eyes and sighs. She likes what Patrick's doing, though she seems slightly more reserved than her boyfriend. Gabby doesn't get off on doing things in front of others, it seems, but she does like the way her boyfriend touches her. Stiles can see it in the way she bends into his kiss, the way her breath quickens. He can also feel the something in the room increase.
Stiles starts feeding without really understanding how he's doing it. It's there, and he opens his mouth and pulls it in. It's as easy as breathing. His eyes flutter closed. His cock twitches. "More," he murmurs.
Patrick moans and Stiles can hear them both moving, kissing. The energy increases. Stiles starts to see it in his mind's eye, like a haze, a cloud of energy, purple and smoky. He wishes he could touch it, interact with it, and in the back of his mind he knows there has to be a way. But for now, he's content to just let it be where he can just 'inhale' it.
It beckons him. He finds himself leaning forward, straining to get closer. He hears Gabby panting, Patrick moaning louder. It makes him open his eyes.
He can see the energy. It's just like what he saw in his head, only maybe a little fainter.
But he can also see the couple again. Patrick's hand is sliding up under Gabby's shirt and Stiles is suddenly feeling very awkward. He can't do any more of this. He stands up and the chair skids back across the floor. Gabby and Patrick startle. Gabby's blushing dark red, and Patrick's eyes are dark and glossy.
"That's it, that's all I need," Stiles says weakly. He turns away from them, waving but not looking at them again. It's just so weird. "Thanks again, I'm just gonna… go. Okay? Okay. Bye."
Alyssa stops him in the hall before he can get far. "What happened?"
Stiles laughs nervously. "That was just… I mean. Can you say awkward?" He notices another woman in the hall with them and nods at her. "Are you the doc?"
"I'm Dr. Bright," she says. "You were doing well at first. Do you want to talk about what happened that made you run out? Come on, let's walk. It's dinner time."
They walk down the hall and Stiles relaxes the farther away from the donors he gets.
"Did the donors say something the mic didn't pick up?" Alyssa asks curiously.
"No, no, they were fine," Stiles mutters. "I just got super self-conscious all of a sudden and had to leave."
"You didn't feed very much," Dr Bright says, sounding disapproving. She sighs. "Well, maybe it will be better for you in a one on one session."
Will it? Stiles thinks about it. He thinks about it all the way to the cafeteria. Maybe when he's able to touch and kiss and taste and… whatever else, maybe it will be easier then. He's not much of a voyeur. Maybe that's what the problem is.
Dr. Bright leads Stiles over to a woman eating and pulls out a chair at her table. "Sit," she tells him. "Now, this is Poe. She's a succubus, and your new mentor. Talk to her."
Poe gives Dr. Bright a sardonic smile. "And hello to you too, Caroline."
"This is Stiles. He just manifested recently." Dr. Bright says, and for some reason her color is suddenly high.
Poe is a dark skinned woman in her mid-forties. She sits back in her chair, watching Dr. Bright and smiling. "Hello, Stiles," she says without looking away. "You okay, Caroline? You're looking a little flushed."
"Stop that," Dr. Bright hisses.
Poe raises her eyebrows. "I'm not doing anything. That's all you," she says.
Stiles has no idea what's going on, but he can see the energy coming off the doctor now. He looks at Poe. Wonders if the two of them have a relationship.
"I have paperwork," Dr. Bright says. "Stiles, you may stay in here with Poe as long as she says, but once she leaves you, you're to go directly to your room. No detours. Your next feeding session will be in the morning." She flicks another look toward Poe, then quickly walks away.
Poe watches her go with a smile on her face.
Alyssa sighs, as if she's used to this. "I'm going to punch out. See the guy over there with the tattoos?" she asks, pointing to a younger man leaning against a wall. "That's Nash, and he's your night nurse. He'll help you get back to your room when you're done here."
Stiles didn't really notice before, but it seems like he's under guard. Is he that scary? He tells Alyssa goodbye, still thinking about it.
Poe gives him a look like she knows what he's thinking. "You just need to learn control and you'll be fine."
"How do I do that? I checked, there's no manual." Stiles thinks about the leaflets Alyssa got for him. "My mom… she died when I was ten. She never had a chance to tell me a lot of stuff."
Poe's tough look softens. "She was a succubus?"
Stiles nods. "Yeah. So there's a lot more to being an incubus than I knew, and I get the feeling the pamphlets I got here don't tell the whole story. I don't even know where to start, what questions to ask."
"You just fed, I heard. But you're still hungry." Poe's eyes are shrewd, and Stiles gets the idea she can actually see the energy he's 'eaten'.
"It got… weird," Stiles says.
Poe narrows her eyes and leans in. "Weird how? Did someone do something you didn't want?"
"Oh!" Stiles says, flailing his hands a little to ward off the bad thoughts. "No, no. Nothing like that. It was just… I'm awkward enough already, okay? And this couple I never met before were like, making out in front of me and it was just weird to me. I did feed a little? But I had to get out of there. I got… embarrassed, I guess."
Poe sits back again. Raises one thin eyebrow. "Boy, you've gotta get over that fast. You'll die if you don't feed. Doesn't matter how embarrassed you are at first."
Stiles bobs his head quickly, because yeah, he agrees. "I wish it was that easy, though."
"You need to make it that easy. Fake it if you have to. You feed again in the morning. When you go in there, you think of yourself as sexy, alright? Whip up that energy til they're begging you to feed from 'em."
"Okay, I have a feeling this would be very good advice to someone who isn't me," Stiles tells her. "But for one, I'm not sexy, and there's no way of making me feel sexy when I'm well aware I'm just a pale, skinny virgin who talks too much."
"You're an incubus," Poe says. "Of course you're sexy. And that pale, skinny look is a definite turn on for a lot of people."
Stiles scoffs. "Yeah, right." He shakes his head. "And that thing with the energy, I don't know how to do it. I'm new to this, okay? I barely know how to feed."
"Hmm. Well, can you at least see the energy yet?"
"The purple hazy stuff?" Stiles asks. "Yeah, I can see it if I concentrate. But all I know is to open my mouth and feed. I can't… interact with it yet."
"You have to claim it. It's yours, if you want it. And when it's yours, you can do what you want with it. Make it dance, make it cling against someone's skin, make them feel their own desire, and then you make it grow."
"But… it's not mine? It's the donor's?" Stiles feels conflicted about this.
"You're an incubus, boy. Of course it's yours. Your donors are giving it to you."
Stiles bites his lip. "And how do I make it… dance or cling or whatever?"
"Once you learn to claim it, all you have to do is think about what you want it to do. You already do it when you suck it in. You open your mouth and take it. You make it move into your body."
Stiles sighs. "You're making it all sound easy."
Poe grins. "There's nothing hard about it. It just takes some practice. Try it when you feed tomorrow."
Stiles nods. He's still hungry, but he will make do with food. He goes up to the food line and gets a tray, then comes back to Poe. She's looking off into space with a smile on her face.
"You're thinking of something good," Stiles says. He sits down and takes a bite out of his dessert first. It's coconut cake and it tastes pretty good.
Poe smiles and shakes his head. "Not anything that's your business, though."
Stiles laughs. "Fair. Um, thanks for helping me, by the way."
"It's getting late. I hate driving at night. Do you want me to come back tomorrow so we can talk some more?" Poe asks.
Stiles bites at his bottom lip. "You aren't staying here?"
"Oh, no way. I'm fully in control. I just came by today to talk to you, after the good doctor asked me to."
"Oh. Thanks again, then. I guess… can you give me your number? And I'll call you if I have any more questions?" Stiles asks tentatively.
Poe pulls out her phone. "Did they let you keep yours?"
"Alyssa took it on intake, but she said there's a public phone in the atrium. Which I haven't seen yet, since I'm still under guard." He rolls his eyes.
Poe grabs her purse and pulls out a pen. She steals Stiles's napkin and jots down her number. "Here, then." She slides it to him and stands up. "Take care. Call if you need anything."
Stiles nods and carefully folds the napkin. "Thanks, Poe."
She leaves, and Nash the guard-nurse appears.
"Hey, Stiles," Nash says. He's skinny and tan and his arms are covered in tattoos, full sleeves of colorful animals and lettering. "I'm Nash."
"Is that your real name?" Stiles asks.
"Is Stiles your real name?" Nash counters.
Stiles laughs. "Fair enough. Do you mind if I finish my food before I go back to my room?"
Nash sits down where Poe had been. "Go ahead."
"You just gonna watch me?" Stiles asks.
Nash shrugs. "Nothing better to do." Then he grins. "I'm messing with you, man. Just eat up."
"I'm not going to just… attack someone and suck their desire out," Stiles grumbles.
"I heard you didn't feed enough when you were supposed to," Nash tells him. "We're just watching out for you."
Apparently gossip moves fast in the Center.
Stiles finishes up his dinner — salisbury steak, mashed potatoes, green beans, and coconut cake — and hopes he doesn't have anything on his mouth because his napkin isn't available for use.
Nash takes him back to his room. "Sleep well. Big day tomorrow, huh?"
Stiles is trying not to think about it. "Yeah. Thanks."
And then he's left alone.
He doesn't sleep well. He's hungry, for one, and horny enough that he jerks off until his dick is half raw. When he does sleep, he dreams about trying to feed while everyone in the Center looks on, critiquing his technique and scribbling notes on clipboards. He wakes in a cold sweat at 5am and can't get back to sleep. He sits up and rereads the pamphlets, waiting for his day to start.
Alyssa is back around seven. She shows him where the shower room is, and he takes a quick one. He's hungry again. Still. Alyssa takes him to breakfast, and he's glad he doesn't need a coffee fix because all they serve is decaf instant. He doesn't know what's up with that but it sounds disgusting.
He finally gets a chance to see some of the other guests at breakfast, though. He doesn't talk to anyone, but he does feel a little better. He's not completely isolated. He's under 'guard', still — Alyssa sits with him and keeps an eye on him — but at least he's allowed around other people.
Breakfast is scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast with grape jelly. Stiles isn't used to eating so much so early, so he only eats about half of what is put on his tray. The hunger is uncomfortable, but he knows it's not for food.
"Your donor session is in fifteen minutes," Alyssa tells him.
Stiles is suddenly very nervous. "Okay. Should I um. Brush my teeth first, maybe?"
Alyssa smiles. "Will it make you feel better?"
"Yeah." He'll be getting up close and personal, and doesn't want to have bad breath. So Alyssa takes him back to the shower room and he brushes his teeth.
"Ready?" Alyssa asks.
"No," Stiles says honestly. "But let's do it."
Alyssa takes him to a very different room this time. There's a couch in this one, but what takes Stiles aback is the bed. "Oh."
"You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with," Alyssa reminds him.
"Right," Stiles says. He swallows hard. "Where's the donor?"
"He'll be here in a few minutes. He's getting some additional instructions for safety."
Stiles bites his lip. In the corner is a camera, just like in the first session room. "You gonna watch this again?"
There's a knock on the door, but it's not the donor. Dr. Bright has a concerned look on her face. "How are you feeling, Stiles?"
Stiles frowns. "Fine?"
"I'm just worried because you didn't feed much last night. Your body needs more energy, so it's a good thing we were able to set this up so soon. We'll be watching to make sure things don't out of hand, but you do need to feed."
"Out of hand how?" Stiles asks.
Dr. Bright waves a hand. "The donor isn't human, so he'll be a good experience for you. He knows what this feels like, so he'll be able to guide you through it. When I say out of hand, I mean sometimes hungry incubi or succubi take too much energy. But he'll be able to help."
That sounds promising. Stiles doesn't want to hurt anyone.
Alyssa and Dr. Bright leave Stiles alone in the room, and he sits on the couch to wait. About five minutes later, there's a knock and the door opens.
Stiles is shocked to see who it is. "Jordan?" He knows him. Jordan Parrish is one of the sheriff's deputies. Stiles has known him for a few years now.
Jordan looks surprised as well. "Stiles? Nobody told me your name, so I didn't... " He trails off and smiles. "Well, congratulations on your manifestation."
"Right," Stiles says weakly. "Um."
"Don't worry, I've done this plenty of times. I'm a regular donor, so you don't have to worry about me. I know how everything goes." And then Jordan starts unbuttoning his shirt.
Stiles stands up and nearly falls over. "Whoa, what are you doing?"
Jordan frowns. "Getting more comfortable."
"Can we just talk first?" Stiles asks. "I… this is my first time."
"They told me you fed last night," Jordan says, pausing and dropping his hands.
"Not like this, not with another person, not like... " Stiles says. He doesn't know why he feels so panicky. He knows Jordan. He's a good guy, and he's attractive. Stiles has never really thought about him that way, but it shouldn't be a problem. He's an incubus. This is what he does.
"Oh." Jordan smiles again and sits down on the couch. He pats the cushion next to him. "Come here."
Stiles swallows and sits down tentatively.
"Do you know what you'd like to do?" Jordan asks.
"Pray for the floor to swallow me up," Stiles mutters. He puts his hands on his knees and flicks a glance at Jordan.
Jordan frowns. "Is it that bad?"
"I know you. I thought doing this with a stranger would be weird, but this is weirder."
"You need to feed, Stiles," Jordan says quietly.
Stiles sighs. "I know. I know."
"You should at least try. Just… kiss me, okay?" Jordan says.
Stiles laughs nervously. "Right. Kiss you."
"Or I can kiss you?"
"That, um. Okay. Let's try that," Stiles says, and takes a deep breath.
"Close your eyes," Jordan whispers. "Concentrate on the energy."
Stiles does. The thought of Jordan wanting to do this with him is so strange, though. But he has to feed. He's an incubus. This is what he does. He tries to 'see' the energy, but before he can attempt to concentrate, Jordan is leaning in and pressing his lips against Stiles's.
Stiles rears back when he feels Jordan's tongue. "Wait, stop."
The only thing to do is laugh. "I am so bad at this," Stiles says with a huff.
"It's okay to be nervous. Would you rather do it on the bed where you can relax?"
Stiles is shaking his head before Jordan finishes talking. "No, nope, definitely not." His breath is coming quicker now but it's from panic, not arousal. His cock, which has been half-hard for days, is completely limp.
What's happening? He's famished. He knows this will help. But he's wound up so tight he can't think. And he's so, so nervous. He just wants to run away now.
There's a knock on the door. Stiles practically jumps across the room to open it. It's Dr. Bright.
"I'm so sorry," she says. "I didn't look closely enough at your intake forms."
"Um?" Stiles says. Eloquent he is not.
"I overlooked your history with anxiety," Dr. Bright says. "It only makes sense that you're having trouble. This is an entirely new situation for you… Mr. Parrish, you may go. Stiles is going to need a different approach."
Jordan nods and picks up his jacket. "Bye, Stiles. Sorry this didn't work out for you."
"Don't tell my dad about this, okay?" The last thing Stiles needs is for his dad to be overly concerned about Stiles's ability — or rather, his inability — to feed.
"These sessions are confidential," Dr. Bright assures him, giving Jordan a pointed look. "Come along, Stiles. It's time to call in the big guns." She smiles in a way that's probably supposed to be reassuring.
Dr. Bright takes him into her office. He sits in a comfortable chair while she sits behind her desk. "I'm really sorry about this. It's my fault for not looking over your paperwork when I should have."
Stiles shrugs. "You're busy. I get that."
"There's no excuse," Dr. Bright says, her lips thin with disapproval. Of herself, Stiles realizes.
"Well… what do we do now?" he asks, fidgeting in his seat. "What's 'the big guns'?"
She takes her phone out and starts scrolling, probably looking through her contacts. "I know someone who can help you. A consultant. He's very smart, very charming, and knows a lot about supernatural physiology."
"Well, um. Poe helped a little, she knows a lot, too," Stiles says. "I don't know what someone else could do for me."
Her gaze cuts away and she nods. Takes a deep breath. "Poe was very kind to offer to mentor you. I appreciate her. But she manifested a long time ago, and probably doesn't remember what it's like when you're just starting out. She can tell you what you can do, but not how to do it. She can say how it's supposed to go, but she'd be no help in your particular situation. She probably doesn't have an anxious bone in her body. She's very… self confident. Sure of herself."
Stiles thinks Dr. Bright sounds a little breathless talking about Poe. The energy in the room has changed, he can tell. Oh. Dr. Bright likes Poe. Stiles smothers his grin, not wanting to embarrass the doctor. He's hungry, too, but…
He doesn't even want to consider feeding from Dr. Bright's energy. It just seems wrong.
Stiles clears his throat. "So this consultant… what will happen there?"
"First, I'll send him a text, see if he's available. Mind if I take a pic of you really quick?"
The phone makes its camera noise before Stiles can agree. Great. He probably looks stupid with his mouth half open and his eyes wide.
"I'll send it along to him with my request," she murmurs, tapping away at her phone. She nods and sets her phone down. "He'll call when he can, or he'll text saying he can't. That's usually how-"
The phone rings and her eyes widen. She answers it, though, her voice friendly and a touch surprised. "Dr. Bright speaking. Hello, Peter."
Stiles wishes he had the ability to hear the other end of the conversation, because his doctor doesn't say much before she's nodding and humming and listening intently with a gradual smile on her face. "Oh, that would be… really? Are you sure? He wasn't able to feed this morning, no, but that doesn't mean you have to rush over... Oh, I see. Well if you're in town anyway… Thank you, Peter." The last is said with genuine gratitude in her voice and a smile on her face.
She says goodbye, still smiling, and ends the call. She sets her phone down and grins widely.
Stiles raises his eyebrows. "So he's coming, I guess?"
"You're in luck. You're going to love him."
Stiles doesn't feel as confident, but the doctor's mood is contagious and he does have some hope now.
He asks Alyssa to take him to the atrium while he waits for the consultant. He wants to call his dad, let him know he's okay. It's weird using a public phone, but he manages. He was taught to memorize important numbers in case of emergency from a young age, and it's stuck with him.
His dad picks up after two rings. "Sheriff Stilinski speaking."
"Dad, it's me."
"I didn't recognize the number. Where are you calling from? And are you okay? How's it going?"
Stiles laughs. "I'm fine. I'm good, don't worry. I'm calling from the atrium. They took my phone when I got here."
"Yes, I figured they would. Place like that has a lot of rules."
"Tell me about it," Stiles grumbles. "I'm still under guard." He sends Alyssa a faint smile. She shrugs. Apparently she didn't take offense.
"You haven't given anyone any trouble, have you?"
Stiles rolls his eyes. "No way. I'm just having trouble with feeding. They're bringing in a consultant though, so I'm sure it'll work out."
"Son…" He sounds worried.
"It's just my anxiety. You know how I get. It's been making things a little difficult, but like I said. Consultant coming in, probably going to fix everything."
"I want you to call me after you meet with them. Let me know how it goes."
"How about I call you after dinner tonight?" Stiles asks. He thinks that's a good compromise. Just in case this Peter guy doesn't help and Stiles is upset, at least this timeframe will give him space to relax again, be able to talk about it without being too emotional.
His dad sighs over the line. "Sure, that'll work. I'll keep my phone on." It's more reassurance than anything, because as sheriff, his phone is always on.
Alyssa gets his attention by waving a hand in front of his face and pointing. Dr. Bright is standing on the atrium steps with a man. Stiles assumes he's Peter. He looks…
Well, even from a distance, Stiles can tell Peter's attractive. He's wearing jeans that cling against his thighs and a deep V-neck with a casual blazer over it. Stiles doesn't normally pay attention to what people are wearing, but this guy just looks so good. His neck is particularly delicious. Thick. Stiles's mouth starts to water and his previously limp dick is hard enough to pound… something.
"Stiles?" his dad prompts.
"Oh, sorry." Stiles swallows. "I um, I have to go now. I think the consultant is here. I'll talk to you tonight, Dad."
"Good, okay. I love you."
"Love you, too," Stiles says absently, and hangs up the phone. He looks briefly at Alyssa, whose eyes are twinkling with mischief. Stiles does his best to ignore her.
He walks over to the steps (awkwardly, thankful for the long shirt that hides his boner) and nods. "Hey, um. Hi. Is this… Dr. Bright, is this the consultant?"
Dr. Bright nods. "Peter, this is Stiles Stilinski. Stiles, meet Peter Hale. He's here to help you."
Peter holds out a hand and the gesture stuns Stiles. He doesn't understand why at first, but then he remembers no one but Jordan has touched him since he manifested, and that was… there was something behind it, an intent. This is just a friendly, platonic touch Peter is initiating, and Stiles can't help but crave it. He takes Peter's hand and shakes it, wondering how the man's skin can be so warm.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Peter says, and he manages to make the formal words sound genuine and even a little suggestive.
Stiles finds himself flushing. "Oh, um, you too. Thanks for coming." He pulls his hand away even though he's reluctant to do so.
"Let's go somewhere and talk," Peter suggests.
Dr. Bright smiles. "You can use one of the donor session rooms."
"No, I don't think so," Peter says. "I think Stiles would feel more comfortable in his dorm."
"But we don't have a setup in there, there's no camera or nearby monitoring station…"
Stiles feels himself tense up at the reminder. He hates the thought of feeding while people watch, and the reminders that everyone is just waiting for him to fuck up don't help his anxiety.
But Peter shakes his head, giving Stiles a smile. "I don't think that's necessary. I'm strong enough to stop him if anything goes too far, and I think it'd be better if the boy here has some privacy."
"Peter…" Dr. Bright starts to say, but Peter turns to her with a stern look.
"You asked for my help. This is me helping."
"What do you mean 'strong enough'?" Stiles asks.
Peter grins sharply. "I'm a werewolf, sweetheart. You can't hurt me."
Stiles feels his blush intensify at the endearment. Which Peter very obviously notices, but the man doesn't say anything about it. Yet.
"I suppose… you can do that," Dr. Bright says, interrupting Stiles's thoughts.
Peter nods. "Good. I'll escort him, no need to come along."
"Just remember what we talked about," Dr. Bright says cryptically.
Peter offers Stiles his arm. "Shall we?"
Stiles huffs a laugh and hooks his hand in the crook of Peter's arm. "Oh, a gentleman."
"Always," Peter says with a rakish grin. Stiles gets the idea he's not being entirely truthful.
Once they get to the right hallway, Stiles takes the lead and shows Peter his room. "They have me in here alone."
Peter closes the door to the dorm room and motions for Stiles to sit. "That's policy here with supernaturals who need to feed: incubi, vampires… Times have changed, but there's still a stigma, even in the so-called progressive places."
"I don't mind having the room to myself, though," Stiles says.
"Well, you can certainly think of it as a perk." Peter smiles and sits down next to Stiles on the bed. He's close but not creepy close. He shifts his body so he's facing Stiles, looking at him intently. "Personally I think the Center is a good idea for a lot of things, but not for you. It's sterile and institutional, too much like a hospital. You should learn in a more relaxed environment, somewhere you can set your own pace."
"Yeah, well my babcia always said that if wishes were horses, beggars would ride," Stiles says with a huff. "Well, she also said Nie dziel skóry na niedźwiedziu which is a proverb about bear skin I never really understood, but the wishes one I get. I'm stuck in this situation. It's the law."
"Your Polish is very good," Peter tells him.
Stiles shrugs. "I learned it young. I haven't kept up with it, though. After my mom died, there wasn't really anyone to talk with anymore."
"Caroline told me your mother was a succubus."
"Yeah, she was," Stiles says. "I wish she could've been around for this. Well, for everything. I wish…" He huffs. "What did I just say about wishes, huh?"
"Come here," Peter says, and suddenly Stiles is enveloped in a warm, comforting hug.
Stiles doesn't get a lot of hugs. His dad works a lot, and when they do get a chance to hang out, they aren't really all that demonstrative. His dad didn't even give him a hug when he dropped Sitles off at the Center.
He didn't realize how badly he was craving this. Peter doesn't pull away, either. The hug goes on, and Stiles relaxes into it. He leans in closer and buries his face between Peter's neck and shoulder. Peter makes a low, pleased sound, almost a growl. Stiles is suddenly reminded that Peter's a werewolf. He knows from research that werewolves are tactile and show affection easily. Also that they're protective, and that thought makes Stiles feel safer. He hasn't felt comfortable since he's been here — it's a strange place full of strange people, and nothing is familiar except the pillow he brought from home.
"This isn't what I was expecting," Stiles mumbles.
"Is that a complaint?" Peter asks, laughter in his voice. He rubs a hand down Stiles's back. It feels nice.
"No, no. It's good." Stiles sighs and breathes in. Not for air or energy, but for scent because Peter smells incredible. Stiles closes his eyes. "Thank you."
Peter pulls away and looks at him. Up close, Peter's eyes are incredibly blue and very honest. "Will you let me help you, sweetheart?"
Stiles nods. "I just… I get so nervous. And awkward. I'm hungry and horny but that doesn't seem to matter when I start to panic."
"You seem relaxed now," Peter murmurs. He touches the side of Stiles's face, fingertips tracing over his skin. Stiles closes his eyes and leans into the touch.
"It's good so far," Stiles confesses. "With you. But… everyone else just expects me to jump right into things, and the farthest I've ever been with someone before is making out and like…" He feels himself tense just thinking about it. "I'm a virgin. I don't know what I'm doing. Poe says being an incubus makes me like, automatically sexy but believe me, I do not feel sexy."
"Take a breath, baby," Peter murmurs. Stiles sucks in a breath and lets it out. "Slower."
Stiles nods and takes a couple of controlled breaths. Slowly, just like Peter is doing along with him. "Thanks," Stiles whispers, feeling sheepish. "I get worked up a little too easy."
"It's fine," Peter says, still talking in that low, comforting murmur. His thumb traces over Stiles's cheekbone. "I think you're beautiful. You've got big brown eyes, almost amber when the light hits them. I adore your moles…"
Stiles scoffs. "My moles?"
"Mhm," Peter says, thumb gentle over the most prominent one. Stiles has never liked his moles. His mom had them, but on her they looked more like 'beauty marks'. She called Stiles's moles 'angel kisses', but the kids in elementary school always called them his polka dots and the idea stuck in his head.
But Peter leans in and kisses Stiles's cheek lightly, just a gentle brush of his lips, and Stiles suddenly thinks maybe his moles aren't so bad.
Peter moves his hand a little and traces over Stiles's lips. "Your mouth is gorgeous, too. These lips look like they're made to love somebody."
Stiles blinks at him. He has the sudden mental image of kissing Peter, dragging his lips across that thick neck of his, maybe nibbling a little at his skin. The thought makes his cheeks heat and his cock throb.
And he can feel the energy in the room. He's not the only one affected. Peter wants him, desires him. Stiles closes his eyes and concentrates until he can see the purple cloud of sexual energy.
"Oh," Stiles says in surprise. His eyes fly open and he can still see it thick in the air around them. He opens his mouth and breathes it in slowly, imagines it filling his body. That first taste is addicting. He feels incredible. He wants more but he's not sure…
He leans in, watching Peter hungrily. But the thing is… Peter's pupils are dilated and his breath is coming quicker. He's just as hungry as Stiles.
"I think I need you to kiss me now," Stiles whispers. His cheeks are flaming at his audacity, but Peter doesn't deny him. Instead, he growls and then goes for it. It's not a kiss that's testing or tentative. It's… fuck. Peter kisses him like Stiles is dinner and Peter's the one who's been starving. His tongue licks into Stiles's mouth, slick and hot. Stiles breathes in without thinking, sucking the energy straight from Peter's mouth. Peter moans like he likes the feeling and Stiles keeps going.
Peter's hands slip down Stiles's back to his waist, then up the back of his shirt so that warm hands are directly on his skin. It's… incredible. Stiles wants Peter's hands all over him, all at once, always and forever.
There's a growl and then Stiles is tipping back, his head hitting the pillow. Peter maneuvers until he's over Stiles, his weight a solid reassurance. Stiles can feel his hard cock against his thigh and it should make him pause but Peter's still kissing him, still touching and tasting and moaning, making Stiles's own cock twitch and leak in his pants.
"You smell incredible," Peter says. "You look so perfect like this."
Stiles doesn't know what he means. He can feel how hot his body is from his blush, he's sweating, and he's panting. He probably looks like he's been running suicides for Coach. But Peter's tone of voice brooks no arguments, and Stiles suddenly feels sexy. Powerful.
And he wants more of it. More of Peter. He's so close to coming in his pants. They're both fully clothed but it's the hottest thing Stiles has ever experienced. He grips the back of Peter's shirt and tries to pull him closer. He moans into Peter's mouth and takes in a deep pull of desire, but instead of swallowing this one down, he breathes right back against Peter.
He doesn't know what he's doing. Maybe he's manipulating the energy wrong. But then Peter growls again, low and animalistic, and kisses like he never needs anything else but Stiles. The energy is whipping around now, touching Stiles everywhere, and Stiles wonders if Peter can feel it too.
As soon as he has the thought, the purple mist sparks like lightning in the clouds during a storm. The 'lightning' crackles around Peter's body and he shudders suddenly. He rocks his body against Stiles's, all coiled muscle and dangerous seduction. He's rutting now, his cock pressing against Stiles through their clothes. Stiles cries out from the rough friction and the energy crackles more. Stiles wants it, he craves it. His hunger is a wild thing and suddenly Stiles is the hunger. He kisses Peter harder, sucking in deep, feeding from him. He feels like he's been starving for so long and now finally he's found the right meal. Nothing else has ever felt so good, so right.
Peter cries out and goes still. Stiles can feel his cock jumping as he comes in his jeans. The energy turns sweeter, thicker, and Stiles sucks that in, too. It sparks through Stiles's body, electricity in his veins, directly to his cock. Stiles half-chokes as he comes, too, clinging to Peter as the only solid thing left in his world.
"You did good," Peter whispers right as Stiles starts to worry.
"I didn't take too much, did I?" Stiles moves his head so he can look into Peter's eyes.
Peter smiles. "No, sweetheart. You did just fine."
Stiles swallows and nods, moves again so he can hide his face in Peter's neck. "Was it… good?"
"You just made me come in my pants. What do you think?" Peter asks, huffing a laugh.
And because Peter did, it's a little less embarrassing that Stiles did the same. "I'm… sorry?" Stiles says, his smile curling against Peter's skin.
Peter rolls onto his side and pulls Stiles along with him. "No apologies needed." Apparently he likes to cuddle. Which is fine with Stiles, who's feeling loose and relaxed. He likes how affectionate Peter is, loves the way the man kisses his forehead and hums.
"I can't thank you enough for this," Stiles says. But then he starts to think about what this might mean, and he bites his lip.
"What's wrong?" Peter asks.
"Will I see you again?" Stiles asks. His voice is small in his own ears.
Peter props himself up on his elbow and frowns. "Of course. I'm going to help you. I said that, right?"
"But now that I've fed, won't they think I don't need anymore help?"
Peter gives him a reassuring smile. "There's a lot more for you to learn. You leave Caroline and the Center to me, okay?"
Stiles smiles back, though he knows it's not much of one. He's not in the habit of being optimistic. "Okay."
"Good boy." Peter leans in and kisses him again, this time on the lips, gentle and promising.
The praise makes Stiles feel better and after this session he's more confident in his abilities. But so much happened, that it wasn't like a 'session' at all. It was more than just a feeding.
"You really don't mind helping me?" Stiles asks.
The smile on Peter's face is replaced by a much more honest, serious look. Even his voice sounds earnest when he says, "Sweetheart, it's my pleasure."