Chapter Text
They had gone on a long, necessary road trip. Stiles was finally done with college, and the Sheriff had celebrated this by taking all his accumulated overtime. Not long, and he would think about retiring anyway. It took them a while to get used to the strange dynamic, Stiles behind the wheel and the Sheriff nodding off on occasion.
The scenery draws him in. They were taking the slow roads. The highway was entirely uninteresting. The sun warmed his skin, and the Sheriff didn't notice how they slowly approached the first stop.
They had chosen a bed and breakfast, more of a farmer renting out a bedroom than an actual motel, but that was fine. They paid in cash, and a young boy showed them around. None of them were big on making conversation.
"Let's retire; we are both done for today," Stiles announces. They had dinner on the road beforehand.
They take the stairs and close the door behind them.
Stiles is onto his father immediately. The Sheriff is barely able to set down the bags before Stiles hauls him close. Any possible sound gets swallowed in the harsh, dominating kiss. The Sheriff's hands tremble, searching for purchase in his son's soft t-shirt as he opens his mouth. A tongue licks over his lips, sliding inside and meeting his own.
Noah wraps his hands around Stiles' waist while his son holds his face still. He's panting when Stiles draws away. He still feels the warm breath on his neck, the fingertips searching for naked skin.
"You are eager," the Sheriff notes, catching his breath. His hands shake with anticipation.
His jeans feel tight.
"Well, I haven't seen you in months," Stiles argues correctly.
During college breaks, they didn't have much time. Both had looked forward to Stiles' graduation.
It's without question that they are going to have sex tonight, and like always, Stiles will take the lead. The Sheriff prefers it that way, and Stiles always needed to take care of him. There are two beds, one they will ruin and the other will be used for sleeping.
"What do you want, Stiles? You earned your gift and my attention," the Sheriff says.
His voice shakes a little, specifically at the hungry look Stiles gives him. After years of stress and crisis in Beacon Hills, he promised them a vacation. Something just for them, away from the pack and its distractions.
When Noah had laid out the proposal, Stiles had sent the text: Expect to be dominated the entire time we are on the road. I'll plan accordingly.
He had been asked twice if he was sure, and each time the Sheriff had agreed. Eagerly. As Stiles very well knew.
"We have weeks to have fun together, Dad." Stiles lets his hands roam over the broad chest in front of him. He grins, "I have made a list and I intend to cross off every single item on it."
Noah makes a weak sound. Stiles was far more adventurous. Nevertheless, he does not protest when he's told to strip slowly. At first, they end up on the bed, groping and kissing. But it becomes evident rather fast that they haven't seen each other in months.
Aroused, Noah lies down on the sheets after Stiles stroked him to hardness. Raw passion made him choke on the thrill of Stiles simply reaching for his crotch, confident and rubbing him through his pants like he owns every part of him.
The Sheriff finds that his own erection doesn't look half as impressive as Stiles'. Although he always feels massive when he gets fucked with it.
"Do you have any plans for tonight?" Noah asks.
He lies his head on his arms, naked and not used to being so vulnerable. Behind him, his son pulls his legs apart to settle between them. Noah's breathing hitches when cold lube is spread over his entrance. Memories flood his mind of all the times before. So far away from home and after such a long time, it feels like a first time.
"Nothing specific, for now," Stiles says and inserts a finger. He takes his time to open his father up.
The first two fingers feel like an intrusion. With the third, it slowly gets easier, the burn subsiding.
"You have to let me in, Dad. I see you have gotten tight while I was away," Stiles murmurs. He keeps a constant attention to his father's ass. Stroking it, playing with the soft bottom and touching the small of his back.
Noah moans, weak and flushed, when his son pays attention to his thighs. He grabbed them between his legs, roughly enough to get a message across. This is Stiles’ to play with.
Mine to fuck.
"Get it in," he keens when Stiles moves three of his fingers in and out. With a good amount of lube, they make a wet sound each time they push deeper.
"Soon, we need something else first." Stiles draws away, and a hand reaches forward. A finger dips into the Sheriff’s mouth to pull it open. "Stay like this."
The Sheriff sits on the bed, legs splayed wide as Stiles pats his cheeks until his father opens his mouth wider. Noah blushes at the sight of the gag. It's filthy, so shameful because it looks like straight out of a porno. It’s bright red, always feels too big at first, but they learned it is sadly necessary.
Stiles holds the ball against his father's lips to let him get used to the feeling. Reluctantly, Noah licks the ball, gets it wet before cautiously wrapping his lips around it.
"We are among people, Dad. I don't share, and you always get loud when I fuck you properly." The gag feels too big when it settles, but the Sheriff would rather take the slight discomfort than the idea of strangers hearing them. "Don't worry, later I will find us a spot when it’s not that much of a requirement. You can scream my name when there's no one but is around."
The band gets fastened behind his head, and for a moment, Stiles relishes the sight. His father, hard and lewd, just for him. When Stiles manhandles him onto his fours, he whispers into Noah's ear, "Let's see how loud I can make you anyway."
The Sheriff grips the pillows tightly. It feels like a threat, and yet the gag symbolises the starting signal.
He leaks, his erection lying between his legs and twitches when the head of Stiles' cock nudges against his entrance. It feels massive, and the weight of Stiles' hands on his shoulders pressing him down is a much-needed reassurance.
"Hmm..." The Sheriff groans, drawn out and low as Stiles takes his time. His nervousness disappears with the inches Stiles’ gains.
"Such a perfect ass, have you been waiting for me? Have you missed me? Missed me taking you like this?" Stiles rocks deeper, each minute movement feeling like a drill digging deeper.
The Sheriff heaves when he feels the stretch. How his hole widens under the pressure. He receives a hard slap on his ass when he doesn't answer.
"Y-mmn", the Sheriff manages and nods. But not before he gets a second slap.
The smack hurts, stinging and warming up his flesh while Stiles draws back and forth. It’s sharp and hot, but not painful.
"Good boy." Stiles whispers the words as he bottoms out.
Fully inside, he feels his father tremble. Beneath him, he has gone rigid. His hands are balled into fists, and the tension is palpable. As expected, the anticipation transforms into a spike of arousal when Stiles starts properly fucking the Sheriff. With stern thrusts, he puts the frustrating last weeks into his movements. Finally, he's free and no longer bound to meaningless papers and tests.
Fucking into the wet, tight heat is just as good as hearing his father's responses.
The Sheriff moans, quietly at first. As Stiles picks up the face and does not let go, they turn into muffled yells. The older man doesn't have much space, but he desperately tries to move against the hard dick drilling into his prostate. With each shove, the Sheriff's cock leaks more wetness. It lies trapped beneath his stomach, barely getting any friction.
The Sheriff shakes, the thrusts are hard, the hands on his body unforgiving. Stiles just keeps the fast pace, rough and fierce, until the Sheriff screams despite the gag.
"If you are lucky, no one's outside," Stiles pants, groaning as he fucks into the plump as over and over again. "I bet they could hear you in the hallway."
His father sobs and comes with a sudden jolt. The idea of being discovered is too much. His cock spits its release, still tied to the pounding Noah receives. Stiles bites into his shoulder when his orgasm washes over him like a wave. After last month's surroundings by strange people with weird priorities, it's good to let go. It feels heavenly to have his Dad moan and shake beneath him while he's banging his ass harder, down to the last possible moment.
"I love it when you come around me," Stiles moans. He arches his back to bury himself as deeply as he can, wanting the tremors around his cock.
His father groans weakly, and he doesn't have enough strength, his orgasm having taken all of it away. Together with the stress and tension, the worries of knowing Stiles is too far away to help in an emergency. Stiles pumps his load into his father's ass and enjoys how his dick pulsates, pushing it deep.
Sadly, it is not enough to cause an overflow. Stiles never releases such large amounts.
"It was a good start, don't you think?" Stiles grins happily and removes the gag, as his Dad makes no move to do it on his own.
The Sheriff turns his head slightly; he's still out of breath. Flushed red and warm, he lies between the sheets, relaxed and looking temptingly content. Like he cannot wait for it to happen again.
"It's perfect," the Sheriff mumbles.
He's not a man of many words, a flaw in their relationship that Stiles talks too much and his father not enough. They make it work.