Ok, so I really hope you guys don't hate me. I promise I wasn't being lazy. And I didn't die. However, I cannot say the same for my old computer. It fought valiantly but finally went down in fire and flames. Unfortunately I was out of commission until I could scrounge up the money for a new one. And then once I did, all of my time was consumed by grad school apps. But now I am done with all of those and I am back!

So I know that before my hiatus I promised a Twingeance update. However, I have hit some major writer's block, but we'll discuss that later.

This story, on the contrary, was just begging to be written. Plus I really miss Jackson so this just needed to happen. So read and (hopefully) enjoy!

The Back Seat

Stiles heaved a great sigh as he trudged onto the bus, one of the last to board. They had just won their sectionals game so the atmosphere was loud and euphoric. But Stiles was uncharacteristically sullen and quiet. It didn't take him long to spot the reason he felt so out of sorts. There was Scott. His Scott. And of course he was sitting by his new best pal, Isaac, aka Stiles 2.0. They did pretty much everything together now. And there was little old Stiles left in the dust. Just because they were both werewolves and Stiles was an ordinary, pathetic human didn't mean he had to be left out all the time. It would have been better if Stiles weren't so hopelessly, head-over-heels, obsessively in love with his erstwhile best friend. He couldn't help it. How could anyone help it? Scott was damn near perfect, with his gorgeous chocolate eyes, his goofy smile, his lovable little quirks, and let's not forget that ass. Stiles grew breathless just thinking about him. And thinking about him and Allison or Isaac at the same time made him want to break something.

Stiles pointedly ignored them as he passed. He stalked straight to the very back of the bus, well away from the center of the victory mob. He threw his bag down and collapsed with an oomph, resting his back against the window and stretching his legs out on the seat. And that was when he noticed that the other back seat was occupied by none other than the perpetual asshole, yet frequent star of his most secret fantasies, Jackson Whittemore.

Jackson glared at Stiles until he managed to tear his eyes away, which was quite the feat considering Jackson was clad only in his lacrosse shorts. Stiles groaned to himself as the image of his chiseled figure, still coated in a sheen of sweat, burned its way into his mind like a brand. And just like a burn, try as he might he couldn't stop thinking about it. Fuck sparkling vampires. I'll take sweaty, glistening lizard monsters anytime.

His eyes betrayed him as they kept stealing quick glances back at the exposed hottie. Each time he caught himself and jerked his head away again, while Jackson just stared at him unblinkingly with his brow furrowed. During one particularly long "glance" he arched one haughty eyebrow and asked, "Can I help you, Stilinski?"

"N...n...ng," Stiles tried and failed to articulate. He cleared his throat and tried again. "N..no," he squeaked, turning away in mortification, determined to just stare at the back of the seat for the rest of the trip. But it wasn't five seconds before his ADD got the better of him and his gaze wandered back over to that unfairly perfect face. The freakishly graceful eyebrow once again arched upwards. Stiles couldn't help the way his eyes slowly slid down his body before he jerked them back up. One side of Jackson's mouth curled up into a dangerous smirk. Stiles turned away again and shivered slightly. When Jackson Whittemore smiled, it usually meant someone else was about to have a very bad day.

But Stiles couldn't resist another peek, and this time he met an unexpected sight. While Jackson was still staring at him unwaveringly, his hands were wandering over his own body. He massaged himself over his abs, then up across his chest and up to his neck before sliding back down and clutching at a firm pec. He dragged a thumb across his nipple, his mouth falling open. Stiles' eyes homed in on one of Jackson's pinkies that had slipped beneath his shorts and was tracing his waistline before that hand slid up to squeeze his other bicep. Stiles was mesmerized and more than a little confused. He could only watch amazed as those hands worked their owner over. His jaw dropped when one them abruptly dove down to cup the front of his shorts. Jackson chewed on his bottom lip and gazed at Stiles from beneath hooded lids as he palmed his very obvious erection through the fabric.

By some miracle, Stiles found the willpower to turn away again with his face burning. He began a dance of trying and failing to look anywhere but at Jackson. But the brief glimpses of the other boy groping himself were quickly taking their toll on Stiles' resolve. And there was no question of looking away when Jackson raised his hips to slip his shorts off. Underneath he wore a pair of black, skintight Under Armour compression shorts that quite clearly outlined his large member. His hand was immediately clutching at his bulge again while the other continued to caress the rest of his body. His mouth was open and he was breathing a little heavier than before. He whispered to Stiles, "Why do you keep staring? Do you like what you see?"

Stiles was determined not to answer that question. He wasn't going to give the jackass the satisfaction. He knew this was some sort of sick joke, and he was not going to play along. But then Jackson took it to a whole new level of too fucking far when he hooked his thumbs into his shorts and peeled them down. The long, swollen cock sprang up and smacked against his hard stomach. "What about this little guy? Do you like him?" he purred as his fingers curled around the shaft and his back arched against the seat, blue eyes never straying from the other boy's face.

Stiles jaw had hit the floor by this point. He swallowed dryly. He couldn't form the words to reply now even if he wanted to. That devilish smirk was back, informing Stiles that Jackson knew exactly what effect he was having on him. He began to slowly stroke himself from base to tip as his other hand fondled his balls.

By this point Stiles was harder than he could remember ever being. He tried to discreetly pull his knees up to his chest to hide his bulge and then subtly adjust his straining dick to a more comfortable position. This only made Jackson grin even wider. Just at that moment, another player had apparently grown tired of the celebrations and had wandered to the back and plopped down in front of Jackson, who turned towards him to deliver his patented "fuck off" look. The boy happened to glance over the seat, eyes growing wide and face flushing crimson at what he saw there.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Jackson growled.

"N-nothing," the boy muttered before hurrying back up front as quickly as possible. Stiles barely even noticed the exchange; his eyes were glued to the pulsating member in front of him.

Jackson turned his attention back to Stiles. He spit into his hand and then started pumping his cock even faster.

Fuck, Stiles thought. If he doesn't stop biting his lip like that, I'm not gonna be able to stop myself from leaping on top of him... He gave up trying to be inconspicuous and just shoved his hand down the front of his shorts, massaging himself to try and relieve the tension building up there.

Jackson continued to increase his pace until his hand was almost a blur. Soft moans were escaping his parted lips and his hips were starting to squirm and twitch, but he still kept his eyes trained on the smaller boy. Finally, he started to buck up off the seat as he cried out and came hard, large amounts of cum spurting out of his dick and splattering his chest and hand. He was panting hard, face flushed, and eyes glazed over. Stiles could only watch, enthralled, as he lifted his sticky hand up to his mouth and began licking off the back. Then he sucked each finger into his mouth, one-by-one, and thoroughly cleaned them off. He finished by reaching down to wipe up the cum off his chest, bringing each bit up to rub onto his lips.

Once he caught his breath, Jackson beckoned Stiles with a single finger. Stiles hesitated for only a moment before he moved over and sat down right next to the naked boy, his face still burning slightly. Jackson's dick had deflated somewhat but was still twitching.

"Well go on. Touch it. You know you've wanted to for years now," Jackson said nonchalantly as he stared straight ahead, as if he was suggesting something as ordinary as a walk in the park.

"No I haven't!" Stiles protested.

"Everyone wants to touch my dick," Jackson replied matter-of-factly.

Stiles had to admit that he did really want to touch that beautiful thing. He took a deep breath and just reached out and grabbed it. Jackson sucked in a breath as Stiles started to stroke the shaft. He could feel it growing and hardening back up in his grip. This was way hotter than any of his fantasies could ever have prepared him for.

Stiles only got a few more strokes in before an impatient Jackson snapped, "Why don't you put that big mouth of yours to good use for once."

Stiles swallowed. He wasn't so sure he was ready for this. But god did he want to taste that throbbing cock. He chewed on his lip, stalling, before making up his mind and sliding down off the seat onto his knees. He grasped onto Jackson's hips and just stared at the towering rod with his mouth open. He hesitated. There was an internal war being waged in his mind. Do I really want to do this? This is Jackson we're talking about; grade A douche bag. I should want to kick his ass, not lick it. But that thought had him picturing things that totally were not helping him make a rational decision. But what about Scott?, the metaphorical angel inquired from one part of his mind. You're in love with him. You can't just throw that away on this loser. But the devil certainly wasn't going down without a fight. Fuck Scott! Look at him. He tossed you out like yesterday's trash when something better came along. But Isaac's not better, is he? No. You're better than both of them put together. And you have someone who is way fucking hotter than either of them could ever hope to be right in front of you, ready and willing. Are you seriously going to fucking pass that up?

The angel was losing.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Jackson growled as he grabbed onto Stiles' head and jerked him forward, shoving his cock unceremoniously into that warm, wet hole. Stiles immediately gagged and choked, his face burning with embarrassment, but Jackson wasn't about to cut him any slack. He just continued to thrust his dick into him. Stiles was quick to adjust, however, drawing on what he had learned from his own experimentation. Thank god for cucumbers, he thought to himself. He started bobbing his head faster and faster, learning the best ways to swirl his tongue and reveling in the loud moans he was coaxing out of the jock. It was hard for him to believe that this was actually happening, that this...sex god was letting him do this. He was afraid he was going to wake up at any moment.

"Oh fuck!" Jackson cried out, tangling his fingers deeper into Stiles' hair and yanking hard. Stiles nearly choked again but somehow managed to ease the rock-hard shaft down the back of his throat. "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" Jackson shouted, drawing a few puzzled looks from the other players. Stiles grunted as he tugged even harder at his hair. He decided then and there that he was never, ever shaving his hair off again. He looked up at Jackson, whose eyes were closed with his head thrown back against the seat.

Stiles actually whined when Jackson pushed him off of his dripping cock. The larger boy lifted him up off the floor so that he was straddling his hips. Stiles was lost in a sea of icy blue before a pair of surprisingly soft lips claimed his own. He let his eyes slide closed as Jackson pressed insistently against him. The sensations were overwhelming. He was light-headed, and felt warm and tingly all over. It was his first real kiss and it was even better than he had imagined it would be, even if he had always hoped it would be Scott. He reached up and wrapped his arms around Jackson's neck, pulling them closer together. It wasn't long before Jackson's warm, wet tongue was pressing eagerly against his lips, and Stiles was more than happy to let it inside. He felt clumsy and inadequate in this department, but Jackson was skilled enough for the both of them. His tongue was agile and talented, darting and swiping expertly around his own. Stiles almost fainted when he dragged it slowly across the roof of his mouth.

When they both had to surface for air, Stiles panted out, "You...are so...fucking...hot."

Jackson smirked again. "I know," was his only reply before shoving his tongue back down his throat. He snaked his hands up under Stiles' jersey and ran them up and down his lithe body, making Stiles whimper needily.

"I love how innocent you are," Jackson whispered against his lips, "and yet how much you want this." Stiles obediently lifted his arms as his jersey was ripped off over his head. Jackson plastered their bare chests together as the kiss grew even more heated. He deftly slipped his hand into his prey's shorts and boxers, firmly grasping the hard-on he found there. Stiles gasped loudly and bucked up into his hand. Jackson pulled the front of his shorts down and released the straining erection so he could stroke it properly. He grinned at Stiles before dragging a thumb over his head in just the right way to get him moaning obscenely. He lifted his hand up between them so Stiles could see the bead of precum he caught, before slipping it into his mouth. His eyes slid closed as he swirled his tongue around the digit.

Jesus it should be a crime to be so freaking sexy, Stiles thought. Jackson smirked at him as if he knew exactly what he was thinking. He reconnected their lips as he pulled down the back of Stiles' shorts and tucked them beneath the small, pert globes of his ass. He grabbed at the firm mounds and used them as leverage to press their leaking erections together. Both of them were panting hard at this point and were rutting restlessly against each other.

Jackson finally tore his swollen lips off of Stiles' matching ones and then latched onto the pale expanse of his neck. It only took seconds for him to find his most sensitive spot, sucking and biting at it relentlessly. Stiles dragged his nails down the other's broad back, gasping and yelping from the onslaught. Oh my god...I'm gonna have a hickey the size of Jupiter. Not that it mattered anyway, since he was pretty sure they had attracted the attention of several of the other boys up front and it was not exactly hard to figure out what they were currently doing.

Jackson, while still impersonating a leech, raised a hand up to Stiles' face and pressed his first three fingers against his lips. Stiles hesitated momentarily before sucking them into his mouth. He thoroughly worked the digits over as doubts poisoned his thoughts. He may be a virgin but he certainly knew enough to know where this was going. And those cucumbers were suddenly seeming a little less than adequate. But he didn't have long to contemplate that before Jackson had deemed his fingers slick enough. He eased his hand between Stiles' legs and into his cleft, where he started massaging his puckered entrance and slathering it with saliva. Stiles hissed with unexpected pleasure as he wrapped his arms back around Jackson's neck.

Jackson kissed him again just as a he slid a single finger up inside him. Stiles gasped into his mouth, tightening his grip around him. Jackson twisted around in him before soon adding a second finger, eliciting another strangled gasp. He scissored and swiveled around the tight passage before pulling out, adjusting his angle, and thrusting hard. He hit something inside Stiles that had him basically wailing and pushing back against him, desperate to force him even deeper. For the next several minutes, Jackson continuously worked and stretched him open, occasionally aiming expert jabs at his prostate that had him writhing. Stiles buried his face in the crook of his neck, drowning in his scent and the sensations down below. Jackson eventually added the third finger, stretching him even further. He nipped at Stiles' ear before whispering into it, "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Stiles could only nod, keeping his burning face pressed into Jackson's skin. Jackson retracted his fingers. He grabbed onto Stiles' hips and pulled them closer to him while sliding his cock between his legs so it was resting between his ass cheeks. "How hard?" he purred.

When Stiles didn't answer he untangled himself from his arms and shoved him up against the seatback. "When I ask you a question, you answer it," he growled menacingly, his icy eyes flashing. "I said, How hard?"

Stiles swallowed dryly. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Hard."

"How hard?" Jackson persisted.

"R-really...h-h-hard," Stiles mumbled barely above a whisper.

"What was that? I can't hear you."

"R-r-really hard."

"How hard is 'really'?" Jackson continued to tease.

"I don't know. Just...f-fuck me. Please," Stiles begged breathlessly.

"Not until you tell me exactly how hard you want it," Jackson contended, undulating his hips slightly so his cock slid within Stiles' cleft.

"I...I..." Stiles was having trouble forming a coherent thought as Jackson rocked back and forth.

"Come on, Stilinski. It's a simple question. Answer it already."

Stiles finally composed himself enough to look him straight in the eye and confess, "As hard as you fucking can."

The grin that spread across Jackson's perfect face would have put the devil to shame. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear." He pulled Stiles close again and lifted him up slightly to position him over his straining cock. He pressed the head up against his entrance and increased the pressure until it slipped inside. Stiles shrieked loudly, clamping his hands around Jackson's arms. He clenched his teeth as pain wracked his body. He was already starting to regret his last confession. He wasn't sure he could do this. It was agony.

But even as he thought that, the pain was gradually ebbing away, fading to a dull ache. A lone tear escaped his watery eyes and streaked down his cheek. Jackson caught it on his tongue and licked a broad stripe all the way up the side of his face. Then he pressed their foreheads together, eyes locked, as he whispered, "Are you ready for more?"

Stiles took a deep breath and nodded, thankful once again for his curiosity and self-discovery that had helped prepare him for this. He wanted this more than anything, despite how uncomfortable he currently was. He held out hope that it would get better. After all, people wouldn't do this if it didn't, right?

Jackson gradually lowered Stiles down onto his shaft until, after a few painstaking minutes, he was completely ensheathed inside him. Both of them were drawing heaving breaths. Stiles held as motionless as possible, trying to adjust to the indescribable fullness. After a few minutes, once most of the pain had faded away, he wiggled his hips experimentally. When Jackson gasped, Stiles was hit by a sudden realization. It was a single glorious thought. He gyrated his hips a little more enthusiastically, wincing slightly at the lingering pain. But Jackson moaned loudly as his eyes rolled backwards, which was all the confirmation that Stiles needed. Jackson had unwittingly put him in a position of power, and he was most certainly going to take advantage of that fact. He lifted himself off the long cock before dropping back down hard.

"HOLY FUCK!" Jackson gasped and dug his nails into Stiles' hips. Stiles just cried out wordlessly. Even he wasn't sure if it was in pain or pleasure.

"You are so...fucking...tight," Jackson panted out. Stiles grinned at him and rocked his hips again, drawing more moans out of both of them. Jackson kissed him heatedly, bucking his hips up deeper inside him. Stiles started a steady rhythm of bouncing up and down on that hard rod, all memory of pain wiped away by waves of ecstasy. He began gyrating sensuously, forcing the cock to repeatedly brush against that delicious spot deep inside him. Jackson met him thrust for thrust, their rhythm disintegrating into chaotic, depraved rutting.

Their cries and moans filled the bus to the point that every other one of their teammates had stopped what they were doing and were watching them in astonishment. When the two lovers paused to catch their breaths, the bus fell deadly silent aside from the rumble of the motor. Stiles was the first to come to his senses. He cautiously turned his head to look behind him. He was sure he turned scarlet as he realized that every eye was on him. He turned back to look at Jackson, who had a smug smirk plastered on his face.

"I think m-maybe this is a bad place for us to be doing this," Stiles whispered. "You know, where everyone can see."

Jackson remained silent for a moment before he responded, "You're right. This is a bad spot. We'll just have to fix that, won't we?"

Stiles did not like the devious glint in his eye one bit.

Without warning, Jackson grabbed Stiles and forcefully lifted him up and shoved him down onto his back on the floor of the aisle between the seats. Then he stood and slid his Under Armours the rest of the way off, before bending down to yank off Stiles' shorts and boxers. Then he knelt down between his legs, smoothly slipping his cock back inside him. This was not what Stiles had meant when he said somewhere else. Now they were even more exposed, but he soon forgot all about that as Jackson pushed his knees up near his head. He braced his feet on the seats on either side of them as he was penetrated even deeper than ever. Jackson leaned down and kissed him passionately. He started pistoning into him balls deep, steadily increasing in speed and power. He dragged his nails down Stiles' chest leaving long, red streaks.

Stiles threw his head back onto the floor, catching a glimpse behind him. People were still staring open-mouthed, but he could no longer care due to the fireworks going off in his mind. His moans were reaching higher and higher pitch and volume as Jackson's pace accelerated. He reached up to pull Jackson down for a hard, sloppy kiss that had to stop all too soon for the sake of oxygen.

Soon enough, Jackson's furious pile-driving had reached a feverish pitch. He was grunting and growling with the effort as sweat poured off of him. Stiles was practically screaming by this point, holding on for dear life as his prostate was pounded with every thrust. He was careening very quickly towards the edge and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold it together. Jackson spit in his own hand and wrapped it around his neglected dick. It took only a few more seconds of wild thrusting and pumping combined to have Stiles cumming harder than he ever had in his life. Jackson continued fucking him hard through his orgasm as he splattered himself with more cum than he knew he was capable of producing.

Jackson smeared the cum all over Stiles' chest and stomach before reaching up and painting a large glob of it across his bottom lip. Stiles hesitantly licked it up, moaning as he was overcome with euphoria.

Jackson resumed his manic thrusting, which had Stiles' oversensitized body writhing beneath him. When he worked himself to the edge he pulled out, tugged Stiles' legs down out of the way, and shuffled up to his face. "Suck me off," he commanded. Stiles was glad to obey, inhaling the swollen member into his mouth again as Jackson tangled his fingers into his hair.

It didn't take Stiles long to send him over the edge. He shot thick ropes of cum into his mouth and all over his face. Stiles hungrily swallowed what he had caught, but before he could retrieve the rest Jackson was kissing him lustily one last time. When he pulled back, a strand of cum connected their lips briefly before breaking as he grinned down at Stiles.

Once they had come down enough from their high they realized the bus had stopped. They were back at the school parking lot but no one was making any move to get off. They were all still staring in disbelief.

Jackson merely stood up, grabbed his discarded clothes and bag, and boldly swept up the aisle wearing nothing but a confident grin. He brushed passed the other players and walked off the bus and across the parking lot, naked as the day he was born. Even Coach Finstock was struck speechless.

Meanwhile, Stiles was left laying alone on the floor of the school bus, covered with bruises and scratches, sticky with cum, and thinking that this had been the best day of his sorry life.

Well. I really hope you all enjoyed that just as much as I did. Please review and let me know what you thought!

And while we're on the topic of Jackson, I thought I would share this little gem of a tumblr post that I found recently. If you've already seen it then I'm sure you won't mind having another look. And if you haven't, then you are very welcome. May the gods bless whoever noticed this:

Well apparently FanFic is dumb and won't let me post it here, but I put it at the bottom of my profile if you're interested.

And now back to Twingeance. As I mentioned above I've ran into a nasty bit of writer's block, which isn't all that surprising considering I had originally planned it as a one-shot to begin with. So I figured the only logical solution is to turn to my readers. What do you guys want to see? So far I have titled the next installment "Bait". The main idea is that the twins use Isaac to lure in Derek. At the moment it is taking place at night in a classroom, but that is open to change if you guys want. So what role do you want Derek to play? Top? Bottom? Both? What positions/locations/techniques do you want to see? Do you want any kind of plot that could extend the story farther? So just let me know and if anything inspires me I'll put it in! You can add your suggestions to your reviews to this story or you can PM me.

Until next time, I bid you all a good night.