#soostan

That was, until Soos found him. He forgot to tell the poor kid to go home.

Soos strolled into his livingroom like he belonged, eyes immediately zeroing in on the pathetic puddle that was his boss. "Hey Mr. Pines!" He said cheerfully like he'd just noticed he was there, as if the sickly sweet musk of old, washed-up omega wasn't permeating the building. He didn't stop walking, went right up to Stan like there wasn't a thing bothering him.

Stan huffed. "Shack's closed for two days - maybe three, who fucking knows - you can go home." He grumbled, not looking directly at his employee.

His words went in one ear and out the other, though, Soos didn't budge. He just kinda stood there, mouth-breathing.

"Oy, I don't give overtime bub, you know this."

"I know." Soos said, and Stan looked at him, tried to get a proper read of him.

He was staring at Stan's neck, head tilted a little like a curious puppy, his mouth cracked open when he breathed and sometimes he just did that but now it felt purposeful, like he was tasting the air. He was wringing his hands like he didn't know what to do with them.

"Hey. Earth to gumdrop, you're blocking the TV." Stan tried, reaching his hand up to wave in front of his face, but before he could really do the motion Soos reached out and grabbed it, lacing their fingers together and Stan froze.

Actual, human contact wasn't something he got much, as pathetic as that was. And Stan had one of his fucking old man heatwaves going on, his brain felt like mush, his hand in Soos' felt real and solid and like it wouldn't shake apart or boil away or crumble the way the rest of him did. For a second he wasn't a crampy, overheated puddle of nerves, he was just holding a familiar hand.

But when Soos shuffled closer, close enough Stan could smell him and he smelled like wood glue and car exhaust and home - he yanked his hand away. "Soos, what the hell are you doing?" Stan asked firmly. His hand was covered in static in the shape of how it was held.

"Touching helps, right? You always start patting my shoulder and side-hugging me and stuff when you get close to your heat - it's because it helps, isn't it?"

Stan felt shame weigh down on his sternum. He felt like a sweaty old skuzz-ball. "Shit, kid - you know you can call me out on that, I didn't notice, I wasn't tryin'a make you--"

Soos reached out again, and put one cool, calloused hand on the side of his face, and he lost his words to the scratchy sound of a pointer finger in the hair in front of his ear. His fever was a distant dream, he felt his joints loosen into a more comfortable ache, he forgot how damn easy heats got when there was someone to hold him. He breathed in nights at the kitchen table feeling pride and comfort with no strings attached for the first time in decades just from the way Soos would look at him while he taught him how to sew.

It was wrong, he'd sunk into the contact like some waify omega from a shitty chick flick, this was Soos, he was a young alpha smelling things that were making him confused and Stan needed to fix it, teach him that getting this close and personal with anyone in a heat was a no-go unless he wanted to knock someone up (could Stan get knocked up anymore? Probably not, he shouldn't be thinking about it) and send him home to sort out his confusion looking at omegas his age on the computer or whatever. But he started sitting up, pulling away, cracking his eyes back open, and Soos looked pained.

Fuck. He'd rejected a hundred alphas in his day, he'd done it with a grin on his face and their wallet in his hand, alphas were supposed to get angry at rejection. Soos just looked like a kicked puppy. Like when Stan accidentally broke the birdhouse he gave him and Stan had to stay up late fixing it because he couldn't take that look, he never could.

Stan sighed, pressing his face back into that hand that snuffed his problems out, holding it there with his own. "Fine, touching, you're right, take notes for any future flings, alright? And don't ever try this with an omega again unless you're real close or they're real acquainted with how you are around people." He grumbled, but his heart wasn't in it, Soos' thumb was stroking at his cheekbone, the glands on his wrists were close enough to bite, his other hand was scratching at his sweaty hair. A low, crackling purr rumbled out of Stan's chest, and he couldn't find him in him to stop it.

Soos started awkwardly clambering onto the chair with his knees, refusing to take his hands away for even a second while he climbed into Stan's lap like there would ever be enough space in his poor recliner. Then Soos put his cheek on Stan's chest to feel the vibrations, and it had to be uncomfortable, Soos had been bigger than Stan since he was fifteen (damn it he'd known Soos since he only went up to Stan's hip, this was wrong) and the chair was squeaking and squealing under their combined weight. Stan opened his eyes again, looking down at Soos against his chest for a moment (it made him feel a certain type of way) before huffing, cutting off his purring.

Soos sat up immediately, and he was tall enough to block the light, looming, close enough all Stan could see and smell was him. "Mr. Pines? Is something wrong?" He asked, not looking even a bit hesitant or nervous like kids his age were supposed to. He looked perfectly comfortable in Stan's lap, something pressing into Stan's thigh and just over a third Stan's age, like he'd done it a million times before even though Stan knew for a fact he hadn't.

Stan sighed, long and heavy. "We ain't doing this - don't, don't look at me like that - you're killing me here, kid. You know how much it'll cost me if you break this chair? Get off, get up, go on." He nagged, swatting Soos until he wasn't looming, scrambling off the chair and then pulling up Stan who was half-buried in the cushions. Stan sighed, brushed himself off - he was still wearing his suit, he was gonna stain it of he didn't get it off soon - and trudged to the stairs.

Soos didn't follow, when Stan looked back, Soos had a tent in his pants and tears in his eyes. Fuck everything. "You coming or what?" Stan tossed behind him, and Soos was at his back like a gunshot, following him up the stairs and down the hall close enough he was clipping his ankles.

Stan put a hand on his bedroom doorknob. "You know you can leave whenever, kid, I ain't stopping you." He said, a consolation prize from a dirty old man. "You wanna leave, the door's unlocked, you don't gotta say shit ta me, just go if you wanna."

"Mr. Pines." Soos said, and he was close enough his words blew at the hairs on the back of his neck. "I wanna stay." He said, like he wasn't tearing this pathetic old man to bits. No one wanted to stay, that had always been the deal. Soos would snap out of it when he got a little older, and wasn't that just a knife in the gut? But Soos wasn't done. "I've kinda been dreaming about this since I was sixteen - that's weird. It's just - you know, you're Mr. Pines. You're so good at everything, and you smell really good, and I like your face, and our ship name would be Soos-ter Pines or Mr. Pinesoos, and I wanna stay here touching your face and listening to you complain about everything because you're my favorite person--"

Stan grabbed him by the staff t-shirt and kissed him. Soos immediately reciprocated with way too much tongue and a smile on his face Stan could feel and it was frankly fucking adorable. Soos shifted his weight to raise his foot like some middleschool girl and Stan cackled against his mouth, almost loosing his footing because he was on his toes and the giant wasn't thinking to lean down any. The second his old man ankle tried to give out from the strain, Soos lunged forward and slammed him against his bedroom door. For a second he was pinned, fixed up like a display, before Soos was right back to soft hands on his shoulders, leaning into his space, nosing the side of his neck so sweetly and Stan's heart was hammering out of his ribs. He needed a nest and he needed to stash Soos away like a little treasure of his to bury his face in and he needed it now.

He fumbled with the doorknob, making them both stumble backwards into his room when he pushed Soos off again. "Put the mattress on the floor." He said with a vague gesture. "Then sit on it and wait." He said, already going for his closet, for his stash of old clothes that smelled more like dust than Ford, of soft blankets and squashed-flat pillows and pointedly ignoring the toy he had hidden at the bottom of his heat supplies.

He lugged them over, and Soos had done just what he asked, was sitting pretty in the middle of the mattress, his grubby sneakers kicked off to the side. Stan started piling up blankets over Ford's clothes over pillows around - he hadn't bothered with a nest in almost a year, they were a bitch to clean up and Stan would be just as uncomfortable in a nest as in his recliner, at least his recliner had a TV in front of it. But now, he felt like a bat out of hell, like he needed somewhere to put Soos.

Then Soos' hands were on him again, a hand on his back, the other on his thigh, made him stop from adjusting the same pillow a third time. "Mr. Pines, is this a nest?"

"No, it's an interdimensional gateway - yes it's a nest."

"Then why are you wearing your whole suit?"

Why was he wearing his suit, it was way too hot for that - but also that meant taking the girdle off - but Soos never cared about his weight before - but this was different-- Soos put a hand on his face.

"You okay, Mr. Pines?"

"Course' I am, gumdrop." He said absently, tracing the thumb rubbing circles on his cheek with every speck of his attention.

"Can I take off your suit?" He asked, unable to even find the bush he was supposed to beat around.

Stan hummed, pressing his face into Soos's hand a little more. "Knock yourself out." He said, because Soos was a good kid, and for some fucked up reason he wanted to take care of Stan.

Soos's hands moved to his tie, loosening the knot and then pulling it away, draping it over one of the pillows - adding to the nest. Stan has knocked out teeth for less, but it was Soos, and he was just being a sweetheart, trying to help. Stan kind of wanted to pull him back into his purring chest, wanted to stash Soos away where the cruel world couldn't find him, where Stan could keep him to himself like the mooch he'd always been. He liked the additions to the nest, actually.

Soos peeled off his jacket, then his shirt, then his girdle, laid him back to get at his belt his belt, his pants, until he was in nothing but his boxers and undershirt. He had a wet spot on his underwear, frankly it was half sweat but with Stan leaned back into some strategically placed pillows and Soos sitting between his legs, staring, he thought maybe he looked good enough for a sweet kid like Soos.

Soos ripped his shirt off unprompted and also put it in the nest, it was the first of his additions Stan actually stopped, grabbing the shirt and dragging it closer because he was a pathetic old man and even if Soos decided to walk out he'd probably be fingering himself with his face in that staff uniform until his heatwave stopped because he cannot deny he's a desperate man. Soos didn't notice the theft, though, still refusing to work on his staring problem.

Stan knocked his knees together to draw his focus. "You were right. Touching helps." Stan said because he wouldn't make demands of the kid but he was damn impatient. Soos didn't need them, putting his hands on Stan's knees and pulling them apart, leaning forward to drag his tank top off with heavy fingers. His hips were rutting forward mindlessly, just off from Stan's hole, just too far no matter how much Stan tried to squirm.

Soos put his face on Stan's bare chest, and Stan started purring - it sounded like a faulty engine, ten years of smoking anything he could get his hands on and twenty more with cigars did that to a man, even if he'd quit when Soos started hanging around too much. The kid didn't seem to care, though, would probably say something stupid about how it was cool his lungs were wrecked by the time he was twenty.

Soos started laving at the skin between his tits, probably getting hair in his mouth and Stan would have pulled him away if that didn't involve him being away. He was a weird guy, but his mouth was warm and soft and settling his cramps down so he let him do what he wanted, watching him with something like awe. His tits were always sensitive when he was younger, it was a good selling point in 77', and it dulled with age but he still got sparky when Soos took one between his teeth, gently knawing like he might hurt him.

Stan leaned just a little forward to kiss Soos' hair, trying not to think too deeply about that. "You don't gotta be gentle, you know I'm made of tougher stuff." He mumbled into his thin brown hair. Soos ignored him, kissing and glawing and sucking at his own pace, gentle and careful, damn anything Stan said, and for some stupid reason it was driving Stan up the wall. It had to be his damn heat brain making him wanna kiss all over Soos' face, hold him close to his chest and tell him how he was too damn good, his sweet boy, Stan was going insane.

Soos started leaning more forward until his stomach was pressing into Stan's aching dick. Stan huffed, rutting forward and Soos broke off to look at his face. Soos' lips were bruised and his hair was mussed and he had this dopey fucking smile on his face. Stan gave up on holding himself up, wrapping his arms around Soos' neck instead and Soos immediately fell forward, leaning his weight on him, pressing him into the mattress and Stan's crackly old purr wouldn't stop if he wanted it to.

Soos kissed him again, slow and heady like he was savoring it. It was suffocating - it was perfect. Stan hummed, feeling Soos shift and start to rut at something worthwhile, moving his mouth from Stan's to his cheek to his neck and Stan made an old smoker's approximation of a whine, holding onto Soos' shoulders for dear life while he kept grinding them together, skin covering skin and filling Stan's hazy brain with way too many endorphins.

Soos' chubby fingers started dipping into his boxers, just a little, just mapping out the indents the elastic made on his hips because he was trying to drive Stan insane. "Mr. Pines?" Soos murmured into the sensitive skin of his neck. "I can touch your hole, right? This is where this is going? I'm allowed?" Soos checked, and it sent shivers down Stan's spine.

"Yeah, sweetheart," He huffed, hips rolling. "Whatever you want." He said, but he hoped like hell that was him.

Soos' hands both pushed into his shorts, one just groping and the other running right near his hole, through the slick mess Soos'd made of him. He pulled his fingers back, wet and shiny and inspected them, pulling his fingers apart to watch the string of slick that connected them snap. Stan huffed, adjusted to bracket Soos' hips with his legs, and ground his ass directly into the front of his shorts.

Soos made this wheezing kind of noise, immediately snapping his hands to Stan's hips. He looked absolutely shocked at Stan, and of course Stan just had to go too far, scare the poor kid off, he probably wasn't used to omegas, especially not ex-whores like Stan, was gonna run because Stan wasn't acting like an omega should--

"That's the hottest thing that's ever happened to me." Soos blurted.

Stan stared.

"Y'know. I didn't - um." He kept looking at Stan's chest. "My dick hurts." He settled on, suave as ever.

Stan rolled his hips again. He'd regret it in the morning, but right now Soos thought he was hot. Soos started fumbling with his shorts - his boxers had little pixel guys on them - and pulled out his cock, which did look like it hurt. Bright, swollen, angry red and weeping, a visible dent from his zipper. It was preportional to the rest of him, that was to say too damn big, but Stan had taken bigger while less hot under the collar, what worried him more was if Soos actually wanted to or if he was just getting comfortable.

Stan arched as much as his back would let him, and Soos stared, taking his dick in hand and slowly ran his hand up and down, Stan couldn't keep his eyes away. He rolled his hips again, making another deep-throated keen.

Soos aimed himself at Stan's hole, bucking against it with Stan's stupid goddamn boxers in the way and Stan huffed. "Can't go through the underwear, gumdrop." He tried to tease, but he wasn't really paying attention, shifting to try pushing his underwear down when Soos caught his hands and the jig was up he was gonna get up and leave Stan and.

And he was looking really intense. "Can I put it in? I can pull out or - or I dunno, I don't have condoms."

"Don't bother, I probably don't have any eggs left." He muttered, but Soos just kept staring.

"Can I?"

Stan hummed. "Yeah, just get these offa me first, tiger." He pushed at his underwear again and Soos took the waistband out of his hands, slowly dragging them down his legs, not one to be rushed even by a needy omega squirming under him.

Soos finally put the boxers in their nest, dragging his heavy hands up Stan's legs, picking them up to look at before putting them on his shoulders. Stan didn't understand him, Soos was examining every part of him like he'd never seen an old man before, like Stan was just something.

Then Soos lined himself up - he'd have to teach him about prepping later, Stan was an exception, not a rule - and slowly pushed in. Stan sighed in relief, rolling his hips into the burn, but Soos didn't go any faster than torture.

He looked up at Soos' face and Soos looked like he was about to come, face scrunched up, panting, looking right at where they were connected. He looked like he might pass out, overwhelmed, trying too hard. Stan started up his purr again, reaching his hands out to pull Soos back down against his chest. Soos huffed, stopped moving, sank into the vibrations and slowly relaxed. "That's it." He soothed, listening to Soos' breath even, trying to ignore the feeling of his prostate being brushed very unfairly. Soos's mouth started moving again, lips against the fat of his tit. "There's my sweet boy." He murmured for only Soos to hear, and Soos honest-to-God whined, looking up at him with that kicked puppy look again.

Stan pushed his hair off his forehead. "You tap out if you don't want to, you know you can." He said, but Soos shook his head.

"I never thought I would get to do this." Soos ran his hand to just below Stan's belly button. "You're just so amazing, Mr. Pines."

"Sweet pea, your dick is in me, call me Stan." He said, and he didn't know what mixture of brain chemicals was making him this sappy, but he liked the way Soos smiled when he called him sappy names.

"Stan. It's okay if I start again, right? I need a redo, I think."

"Go ahead." Stan said immediately, still feeling droopy and heavy from the stretch.

Soos nodded, pulling back and Stan almost asked him to stop from pulling out but Soos didn't, just pulled back, and then pushed forward all at once and oh, Stan only had half before.

Stan hummed and huffed and sank into his pillows while Soos went back to slowly tearing him apart. Soos looked so fucking adorable, so focused, trying to set a pace for his sloppy thrusts, Stan wanted to eat him alive.

Instead he dragged one of Soos' hands up off his hip to hold his face again, sinking into the smell and the dopey feeling he almost forgot he could have. Soos started moving faster - close. He never took his hand away though, leaning forward until his cheek could lay on Stan's rumbling chest while his hips kept rutting. Stan looked down and Soos was looking up at him like he was the prettiest thing.

Stan rolled his hips again, and Soos moaned into his chest hair. Stan could feel the knot bumping against his hole, and he tried encouraging him, rolling into him and running his fingers through that thin, soft hair. Soos kept hiding noises in Stan's chest, Stan could feel every one.

Then Stan finally took in the knot, and Soos whined loudly, shaking apart over Stan, and Stan sighed. Poor kid, he'd done that a few times in highschool, never a good way to recover from coming so fast.

But Soos kept moving, rutting the little bit the knot allowed, he didn't stop for a second, still laving at the meat of his tits like he'd die without them, he kept going.

Stan hummed, rolling back faster against him. The low churning in his gut had vanished, all that was left was a crawl towards release. Soos didn't let up, he could barely pay attention to anything but him, he wanted to keep him forever right there.

"You ever been pregnant before, Mr. Pines?" Soos huffed, and maybe asking to be called his first name was a lost cause.

Stan hummed. "No." He lied. Didn't matter anyway, it never worked out.

"S' no fair, you'd be so good at it."

Stan ran his fingers through Soos' hair. "You think?" He asked rhetorically.

"Yeah." Soos sighed, his knot had shrunken enough to pull out, but he stayed. "You'd be so pretty."

Stan hummed, rolling into Soos' short, shallow thrusts. "Yeah? All heavy with kids, I wouldn't be able to run the shop, you know."

"I would help, I'd help the whole time." Soos sighed. "Be there the whole time."

"Yeah? Such a good alpha, such a good boy, taking care of me." He crooned.

"Good enough for you?"

"Good enough for a lot better, sweet pea."

Soos made a little grumbly noise and it took a second for Stan to realize it was a little growl. He tightened the hand in Soos' hair. "Hey." He said sternly.

"Don't want a lot better." Soos grumbled, looking like an angry kitten.

Stan sighed. "You will, once you're older."

Soos slowly pulled up and away, still inside Stan but not moving. "Why don't you believe me?"

"Soos, kid don't take it personal, you're young, you'll find someone your own age and you'll be better off."

"Mr. Pines. You're my favorite person, and this is the best day of my life." He said like a fact. "Am I good enough for you?" He asked again.

Stan's chest tightened. "You've always been good enough for me."

Soos laughed. "Great! Good - oh thank gosh I was scared for a second. Can we keep going now? You're - you're really warm."

Stan rolled his hips. "Of course, sweetheart."

Soos picked up his legs again, kissing the inside of his knee before starting to move again. Then he finally found Stan's prostate, butting against it and making Stan lock up. He must have made a noise because Soos was staring at him. Again.

"C'mon." He asked in a completely reasonable tone, his hips were starting to ache but he rolled them anyway.

Soos copied his angle, hit Stan's prostate dead on again and got the hint, hitting it over and over while Stan made noises he hadn't made in decades. Soos started going faster, finally, and Stan couldn't shut up if he wanted to, warbling out 'good boy, sweet boy, my boy' while Soos huffed and whined into his shoulder, his neck. For a brief, dizzying moment, he hoped Soos would bite him.

The knot was easier this time, smaller, Soos was still half-spent, but Stan keened when it was finally in, he was so close - Soos was still shaking with his own orgasm when he wrapped his hand around Stan to finish him off with the hand still wet with his slick.

Stan shouted when his release finally hit, melting into his nest with a content sigh while Soos put his head back on his chest. Stan started combing his fingers through his hair again, purr rumbling through his chest.