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[personal profile] moit_fics
Title: Teen Wolf
Author: [personal profile] moit
Original Fiction
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Fluff, Romance
Author's Note: A ridiculous amount of meta and Teen Wolf spoilers. Tread with caution.

Michael all-but *dances* across the living room to the DVD player. He puts the disc in and joins Jake on the couch.

"What are we watching?" Jake asks warily. Lately the only shows Michael has wanted to watch are Supernatural and Dance Moms, and if Jake is forced to watch Abby Lee Miller's fat ass tell a bunch of prepubescents to turn out their feet one more time, he is likely to drive to Pittsburgh and strangle the bitch himself.

"Teen Wolf," Michael blows out in a breath as he settles against Jake's side.

"That eighties movie with Michael J. Fox?"

Michael raises an eyebrow. "There's an eighties version of Teen Wolf?" He snorts. "It probably came out before I was born."

"It did," Jake deadpans. "1985."

"Oh, fuck *that*." Michael fumbles the remote out of the couch and aimes it at the television. The DVD starts and he stretches himself out on the couch, leaning his head back in Jake's lap.

"I remember when that film came out," Jake growls, pinching Michael's bare arm.

Michael turns his face to nuzzle it against the fabric of Jake's Doctor Who t-shirt. "I was born a year later, you cradle-robber."

"Shh. I'm trying to hear this," Jake whispers. On the screen, Scott and Stiles are trying to find a dead body in the woods and Jake finds himself oddly intrigued by the show. By the time it becomes clear that Allison's father is one of the hunters, Jake is reaching for the remote himself to get to episode two.

"Stiles or Derek?" Michael asks, tilting his head back so he can see Jake.

"Hmm?" Jake looks down at him, eyes flicking to the screen to play the second episode. "What are you talking about?"

"Just humour me: given the choice, Stiles or Derek?"

"Probably Stiles."

Michael lets out a high keening noise. It sounds like letting the air out of a balloon and then he just *explodes*. "Isn't he fucking adorable? FUCK! I just want to lick his nose and then lick his mouth open and then . . . just demolish him."

"And then cuddle him," Jake supplied.

"Yes! That's probably the best part about him. We could put him about . . . here," Michael says, mapping out an appropriate amount of space across Jake's lap with his hands. "And then we could both . . ." he stops short because just the thought of having Stiles between them is enough to make his cock twitch in response.

"Are we going to finish this or do we need to stop and have a quickie?"

"I'll be good," Michael promises, flopping himself back down onto the couch, his desire to watch Teen Wolf (with Jake) apparently overriding his lust for Stiles.

They only get through two more episodes before Michael is rubbing his face against Jake's thigh. "I'm going to bed," he says through a yawn. "Are you coming?"

"I'm gonna watch a few more of these," Jake says, his eyes on the screen. He tears himself away long enough to peck a kiss on Michael's lips.

It's nearly four a.m. when Jake stumbles into bed. Michael's eyes slit open as he feels the bed dip. "About time," he mumbles sleepily.

"I finished season one," Jake whispers, allowing Michael to curl up against him. He can't sleep while someone is touching him, but Michael will be asleep soon enough and won't notice when Jake rolls away.

"Of course you did," Michael whispers back.

"Do you think Stiles should have taken the bite?"

"Hell no. That would ruin the whole show. I'll quit watching if they make Stiles a werewolf."

Jake smiles into the skin of Michael's neck. "Well, that answers my question if he takes the bite in season 2."

"I've only seen the first two episodes. Now be quiet and go to sleep so I can have another dream about Stiles."

"You're dreaming about Stiles? You dirty bastard. And you're not even inviting me. That's practically cheating."

"I can't cheat on you with a fictional character in my sleep."

"True, because if that was the case, I would have already left you for Jeremy Clarkson."

"You're hilarious," Michael mumbles, turning away into his pillow.

"That's why you love me," Jake says softly, watching Michael's chest rise and fall with his breaths. His heart swells with love for the other man, something with which no fictional character (or celebrity on Twitter) can compete.
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