Title: Nice Legs
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Character(s)/Pairing: Allison/Isaac
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Dubious consent (over-the-clothes)
Notes: Fill for Teen Wolf Kink Meme

Isaac stared at Allison's thigh; she was sitting, the weight of her leg on the ball of her foot, and the muscles were tense and inviting under her black tights. He was tempted to reach his hand out and brush it across her leg, and could almost imagine the feel of it, the warmth. She moved in her seat and the heel of her boot pressed into the floor, her calf tightening and relaxing.

His eyes trailed up from her calf all the way to her eyes, which were glowering into his own.

"What?" Her voice was an angry whisper.

Isaac smirked and leaned a litter closer, inclining his head toward the table and his face toward her. Allison glanced over him to scan the rest of the class; it was a remedial English class that took place in a spare science room. She returned her attention to Isaac; they were in the far back corner, and everyone's eyes were focused away from them.

"What?"

He moved closer still, his arm pressing against hers atop the table, and said, "You've got nice legs."

Allison rolled her eyes and focused back on her notebook. Isaac looked across her face, bit his cheeks, and slowly pulled his arm away, his bare skin brushing hers. He reached under the table toward her thigh. She gasped when his fingertips brushed her leg and reached down to wrap a hand around his wrist.

"Don't, "she whispered, eyes darting around at the other students.

Isaac paused and said, "You didn't seem to mind it when Erica was groping you in front of your boyfriend."

Her hand loosened as she turned to glare at him and say something, but she paused and grabbed his wrist again when he rested his hand fully on her thigh.

"It's not like I invited her to do it."

She pulled on his wrist, but he didn't budge. She pursed her lips and glared at him, and he smiled in return. She drew her hand away and returned to her notes, apparently deciding to ignore him until he went away.

He wasn't going to move away, though, not when he was getting this kind of response. Her leg wasn't warm under his hand, it was hot, and he could hear the tiny spike in her heartbeat, and see the very slight blush on her cheeks and neck, and smell a very, very faint hint of something he knew was involuntary.

He glanced at the rest of the class and loosened his hand, very slightly, and moved it down her thigh, and then up. Her breath caught in her throat, but she continued to ignore him. He slid his hand from the outside of her thigh to the inside and began to brush further upward between her legs; she crossed them tightly and trapped his hand. He could've kept moving upward or pulled it free, but didn't.

Her jaw was clenched tight and her face had brightened from anger, but she still didn't look at him.

He smiled and, with his hand still between her legs, set his free elbow on the table and his head on his fist. That faint hint of something wasn't so faint anymore. He hadn't been entirely sure what he smelled, but he knew now. Erica smelled the same way around Stiles.

He felt himself start to blush, suddenly self-conscious.

With his eyes focused toward the front of the room, he gently squeezed his hand and rubbed his thumb over the swath of leg he could reach with his other fingers trapped like they were. Her heart stared beating a little harder and he could feel the heat coming from her body, and he found himself reacting the same.

She lifted her leg very slightly; he glanced over and she was eyeing him sideways, pink in the face as she briefly looked down at his hand and back up at his face. She lifted her leg a little further, and it was enough for him to move his hand further up, under her pale coral dress, and press tightly against the apex of her thighs. She gasped and closed her eyes, cheeks bright red and bottom lip between her teeth. He licked his lips and stared at the quickened rise and fall of her breasts, the sheen of sweat on her neck, and the curve of her stomach as she leaned forward and rested both of her elbows on the table with his hand still pressing against her. She squeezed her legs again and shifted forward against his hand.

Isaac felt his face burning.

"Ms. Argent?"

They both jumped, but he didn't pull his hand free and she didn't move to push him away.

"Yes, sir?"

The teacher asked the question again and Isaac stared down at his textbook as Allison answered. He was overly aware of the torrid heat pressing against the side of his hand. His own breath was shallow; he wasn't sure when this had turned from his teasing her to him feeling teased.

He swallowed and reached his free hand down to adjust himself in his jeans.

The bell rang and they nearly leapt apart. Allison was packed and out of the room before he could speak. He wiped his hands over his face with a sigh, the empty air beside him feeling suddenly cold and that particular heady scent still lingering. He stood, struggling to hide his erection, and ambled to his next class.