#If there are typos no there aren't wake me up when spring comes goodnight

[smiley-mcdoggington]

ANOTHER ABO SMUTSHOT BECAUSE I SPENT 2K ON THE OTHER ONE OF JUST FUCKING DIALOG IM SO PISSED OFF ANYWAYS TW STANCEST TW DESCRIBED SEXUAL ASSAULT

One thing he missed about home was having room to pace. His socked feet thumped back and forth across the floor in an unsteady rhythm, dodging a stack of books every second step and turning 180° every fourth to continue his stride. Fiddleford was doing his level best to ignore him, but it was clear Ford's stress was contagious, even though he was sure his new roommate had no idea what he was even pacing about.

Stanley was late, an hour late. He had no reason to be late, but he was. Was he caught by campus security using Ford's ID? Did something happen at his work? Was he attacked? Ford continued his effort to wear a hole through the shag carpet.

Then he heard a key in the deadbolt, and he was over to the door in five steps, all but throwing it open. "Where were you?!" He demanded before a faint sour smell hit him.

Stanley had a fresh red bruise on his cheekbone, a split on his lip and the smell of an alpha on him. Ford's stomach dropped. Statistics scrolled by the back of his head while he yanked his brother inside. "What happened? Who did this? How far did they go? Are you okay?" He questioned, holding his bruised face like porcelain, trying to look for more bruises.

Stanley gave him a smile. "I'm fine, Sixer, geez. I was just at that new boxing place, nothing I haven't gotten before." He said easily, putting his smaller hands over Ford's anyway.

"It's not the same. You smell like one of them..." He said lowly. "What did they do to you?"

Stanley sighed, sitting down on his bunk. "Not a big deal, big guy was trying to put me down but he got close to an omega's neck and started acting like a teenager." He said as if they weren't just eighteen. "Mighta licked me once or twice, but I knocked him on his ass in the end." Stan said as if it were a satisfying conclusion.

Ford wanted to rip the invading alpha's tongue out. Was there no sense of decency at that gym? He looked closely at the nape of Stan's neck and saw slightly red, inflamed skin. He should call the police, it was an outrage, if Stan was in a more legal living situation he would.

"Heh, hey, Sixer, look on the bright side, how many people can say they gave someone a tent and a concussion in under a minute?" Stan joked crassly, hand holding Ford's tightly.

Ford sighed. "Really Stanley, not the takeaway here." He said fondly. "Let me clean that off?"

"Please." Stanley huffed, and Ford dragged him back up and out of the dorm with a quick and awkward goodbye to Ford's more legal roommate while Stanley grabbed their one towel.

The shared bathroom for the floor had the door hanging open, which was a relief. Both twins hurried inside, shutting and locking themselves in.

The bathroom smelled fairly neutral, since the floor was almost entirely betas, if not the most pleasant because they were mostly still teenagers.

Stan handed Ford their towel before sitting on the lid of the toilet and shucking his shirt.

Ford left the sink to run. "So I suppose that gym was a bust."

"Nah, they're fine mostly, this was just one asshole."

Ford squinted. "Just one asshole that they banned from the property for sexual assault?"

"A little licking and-- I don't think that counts for anything."

"Licking and?" Ford said lowly.

"And nothing! It's fine, Ford."

"Now I know you're lying! What did he do?" He asked severely, letting a slight rumble in his chest escape him.

"He grabbed my ass, okay? It's not a big deal, I punched one of his teeth out." Stanley said, but that just didn't make sense. How had the fight continued after such a blatant move? How did he even--... Stanley was still lying.

"No one can grab things with boxing gloves on, not that quickly." He said faintly, and Stanley's eyes slid away from his to stare at the wall. "Stanley, were you even in the ring when it happened..?"

Stanley's hand reached up and started itching at his already swollen glands. Ford grabbed his wrist to keep it away. Stanley could have pulled out of it but he didn't.

"Stanley."

"I fucked up, okay? I know I fucked up, I didn't mean to--" Stanley was acting like Ford was mad and him and it made his stomach turn. He grabbed his twin's face to make him stop and look at him.

"Stanley. You didn't fuck up. You didn't fuck anything up, okay? It was that damn alpha." He spat the name of the presentation as if it were sand in his mouth. "You were perfect, okay? You always are."

Stanley leaned into his hand like it was the most comfortable place in the world. "Okay..." He said, sounding very small.

Ford ghosted his thumb over his brother's purpling cheekbone. "Wait here, I'll only be a second." He said, and waited for the weight of Stanley's head to leave his palms before drawing away.

He checked the temperature on the running sink - the ancient pipes finally sputtering out water that wasn't ice cold. He wet a corner of their towel and brought it back over to Stanley.

His brother dropped his head to the side to give Ford access, and he quickly ran the warm, wet towel over the reddened glands.

Stan let out a pleased huff, a low rumble beginning in his chest as Ford ran the warm cloth over his neck and shoulders. "Six... You gonna tell me what they taught ya's in that fancy physics class?" He said distractedly, lolling his head to the other side to let Ford at that side of his neck.

"We learned about time dilation." Ford said. "About how when you're far from earth, time moves differently. I could be a billion lightyears away for a minute and years could have passed without me."

"Time travel, neat."

"I don't know. It seems lonely more than anything."

"Easy fix - just lemme on your ship, space man..." He said drowsily, lost in the towel bath-turned-petting Ford was lavishing him with.

"Of course. What's the point of a Stan O' War sailing with just one Stan?"

Stanley huffed one single, distracted laugh. "Maybe we could get married up there. International space waters."

"I'd call it closer to extranational space."

"Nerd."

Ford snorted.

The glorified rag they called their towel was cold under Ford's hands, and Stan shivered. "Too damn cold in here." He grumbled, eyes squinting open like the lights offended him.

"We could head back, put our blankets on top of eachother." Ford murmured into his brother's hair, running fingers down his spine.

Stanley hummed. "I know a quicker way to warm us up." He said and suddenly Ford felt warm fingers itching under his green gym shorts.

"Are you sure you're up for it tonight? After what happened?" He said, even though the sour smell was gone, replaced by familiar sweetness.

"Ugh, how am I supposed to think about a damn ruthead when I've got you right in front of me?" Stanley replied, standing up meet Ford in a bruising kiss. Ford put one hand on Stan's chest and the other in his hair, along for the ride as Stanley licked into his mouth.

Stan pulled away suddenly. "I'll turn on the shower." He said, voice hoarse and hot, and Ford watched him walk over to the small seperated shower room with three different heads all with different amounts of plumbers tape cobbling them together. Ford pulled off his vest and started fumbling with the buttons on his shirt while he heard the pipes strain through the walls before a hissing filled the shower alcove.

Ford shrugged his shirt off at the same time Stan started fumbling with his loud, clicky belt. He looked over and watched. Really, the belt was redundant, Stanley's jeans hugged him so perfectly, showed off every curve of muscle, the way the softness of his thighs squished under a set of six-fingered hands. His eyes devoured every inch of skin as the denim was slowly pulled away. On closer inspection he was wearing Ford's boxers. Ford wanted to cry.

Stanley pulled those down too, until all he was wearing was a little gold hoop earring. Ford saw every little movement that went into Stanley's slow stroll back to the showers. "You coming, Sixer?" Stanley asked. "It's getting lonely over here."

Ford got rid of his shorts and underwear and was quickly following Stanley to the shower before Stanley could finish the sentence.

Stanley turned to face him and he shoved him into the wall, meeting his lips desperately while warm water rolled off his back. Stanley pushed back until he found his own back against the wall, he didn't care as long as Stanley didn't stop.

Five-fingered hands roved up and down his torso, rolling a nipple with one hand and holding a hip with the other, he was all over like a starved man.

"St-anley." Ford groaned while Stanley licked over the glands on his own neck. Stanley's hands itched lower, lover than his ass, the next second Ford was off his feet and pressed even further into the wall with a startled yelp.

Stanley giggled, before adjusting his hold on Ford again. Ford got out a breathy "Don't you dare--" before Stanley raised him high enough his legs could rest on Stanley's shoulders, still pressed against the wall. "Stan - oh." He felt slight warm pants warming his dick as Stanley leaned forward, taking in as much as he could at once. Ford keened, hands in Stanley's hair, feeling like he was on a mechanical bull as his whole body rocked up and down the wall to the movement of Stan's bobbing head. A steady stream of huffs and moans slipping from his throat as he desperately chased his peak.

Then Stanley pulled away and Ford whined at the loss.

His brother gave him a dopey grin. Ford laughed breathlessly. "Whats that look for?"

"I love you."

Heat rushed to his face. Stanley was looking up at him eagerly. "I... Well of course I love you too, knucklehead."

Stanley smiled widely, kissing Ford just below the bellybutton before lowering him closer to eye-level. Ford immediately wrapped his legs around Stanley's hips. And one of Stanley's hands inched off his leg and lower.

One finger ran over his wet hole and he nearly jerked out of Stan's arms, his brother scrabbling to keep him steady. "No?" Stanley asked.

"Yes." Ford replied. "Please." He added to state the urgency.

Stanley groaned into his neck. "You're killin' me." He whined, and two fingers slipped into Ford's entrance.

Ford started rolling back onto them immediately, not minding the burn and eager for what comes after.

Stanley was looking at him the way he looked at an art piece, a third finger sneaking in with the other two, making a wet noise the shower could not muffle. Ford pushed up his slipping glasses as he continued fucking himself until Stanley's breath hitched and he again stole Ford's stimulation from him, pulling his fingers out and leaving Ford hollow and wanting.

Then he felt something else press at his entrance, and he took a breath, groaning as Stanley sank in, waiting on Ford to move first.

When Ford's hips started rolling, Stan whined, thrusting back into him with everything he was.

Stanley let Ford set the pace, following the rolls of his hips dutifully but going no faster. Ford let himself get lost in it, like a rocking boat.

Then Stanley leaned forward, panting into Ford's ear. "Mark me."

Ford shuttered. "Really? You're sure?"

"Please." Stanley said, sounding close to crying for it. "I wan' it - I need it - please please please, Sixer, Stanford - fuck - I, I just wanna smell like you forever." He cried desperately, and Ford groaned in turn, salivating at the idea.

"You s-sure?" Ford asked, hips speeding up a little as the thought sunk in. Stanley nodded furiously, and Ford opened his mouth, letting his canines graze soft flesh, pulse fluttering under his teeth. A string of begging was pulled from Stanley's mouth before Ford couldn't control his hips anymore, rolling desperately, filling himself over and over. He bit down on the side of Stanley's neck, teeth digging into one of the glands as he came against his brother's stomach. Stanley made a half-choked wimper, coming inside without warning, head ragdolled to show Ford as much of his neck as possible while he shook, trying to keep his legs from giving out all at once while he sank to the shower floor. Ford pulled his teeth out and held Stanley while he came down.

When Stanley finally had the presence of mind to look up at Ford, he gave him another dopey smile. "I'm your problem now." He said smugly, voice completely wrecked.

"You always have been, Stanley." Ford said, combing his fingers through his hair. "You always will be."