Hey guys. I've wanted to post some new stuff because I just love reading your reviews, but hadn't had a chance because of school starting back and all. So that explains my brief absence from the writing scene.

I originally got this idea from a prompt post, but hadn't gotten around to writing it. Then I was skimming through the few Jackson/Stiles that's out there and came to the realization that none of them are very realistic. So I'm writing this.

This also starts off with Jackson and Stiles in an established relationship.

For some predominant reason people liked to think that Jackson was an undercover sweetheart. They liked to think that he showered Stiles with kisses and cuddled up with him and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. Boy, were they fucking wrong. All in all, Jackson was a dick. And he never did any of that stuff.

At first Stiles had been kind of surprised by the fact that people honestly believed that. Before him and Jackson had become official, Jackson had dated Lydia. Lydia Martin, who was demanding and high maintenance. It didn't shock him too much though, because Lydia didn't seem like the type to want constant intimacy. Plus their relationship hadn't been so much about love and comfort, but power and domination.

It was a nice fantasy, having Jackson shower him with kisses, but an unrealistic one. That's not saying that Jackson and Stiles never kissed. They did, and quite passionately, but it wasn't sweet and pretty like in the movies. Jackson did everything with a burning fire and for all that doubt that he had swimming in his head, everything else was executed with brute force and power. Jackson's kisses were demanding and deep and they left Stiles breathless. That didn't mean that Jackson was incapable of being gentle. He could be, but those times were rare and spaced greatly apart.

Picturing Jackson cuddled up with him was hysterically funny. Jackson didn't like to be touched very much, which pretty much ruled out any chances of them cuddling just because; after sex was even more unlikely. Sex with Jackson was like kissing with Jackson. It was wild and rough and powerful…and sweaty. And Jackson liked to think of sex as some weird form of cuddling in its self because that required a lot of touching and was one of the only times that Jackson liked it when Stiles touched him excessively. Stiles wasn't complaining because he was a guy too and lying in bed holding a sweaty body close to him didn't sound very romantic; and that would require him to be still long enough to let that happen.

It was fucking impossible to think of Jackson whispering sweet talk to him. Jackson hadn't said anything sweet to him since, well never. When they became official all Jackson had done was walk up to him in the hallway at school and give him one of those toe-curling kisses before stating "You're mine." There was no long, heartfelt speech about how he couldn't live without Stiles, which was okay because Stiles was used to people who didn't use their words. He was surrounded by them. His dad, Scott, Derek; the list just kept growing. That wasn't much of a problem because he did a lot of talking anyway. Just because he didn't expect Jackson to do those things, just because he stayed with Jackson with the lack of softness; that didn't mean that he thought that Jackson was a great boyfriend.

Jackson's a really shitty boyfriend. Stiles knew that before they started dating. He watched how he was with Lydia. And if that wasn't enough proof, how he broke up with Lydia was even more of an eye opener. Stiles had never been very strong at making decisions that held his best interest though, and he wanted Jackson. Not that Jackson gave him much of a damn choice anyway. Nonetheless he probably would have put up more of a fight if he knew that Jackson was going to be super dick times five. God, but Jackson was bitchy. And like the world's biggest jackass. And all of that seemed much more evident whenever Stiles was involved. They were constantly fighting, bickering and threatening each other. It was exhausting, but a part of their relationship.

*Their more recent fight was about Jackson's priorities.

"If I'd known you were this whiny I would have never agreed to date you," Jackson said nonchalantly.

"Agreed to date me? Is that what our relationship is, an agreement? And where the hell do you get off saying I'm the whiny one," Stiles seethed. He didn't lose his temper often, but when he did it was gone.

"I think we both know who the needy one is. I just spent an entire day with you. Can't I go off and hang with my friends?"

"An entire….We spent three hours together. Out of the entire week. And you're always hanging out with your friends."

"I can't have friends?" Jackson asked. His voice was dropping in volume and Stiles took that as a sign that his patience was wearing thin. Not that he gave an actual fuck because Jackson always lost his temper and he wasn't getting off the hook so easy this time. "Because if that's what you're saying, you're going to be really fucking disappointed when I tell you to kiss my ass."

"I'm not saying that! God, you always put words in my mouth. I'm just saying that it would be nice if we could spend some time together," Stiles defended. Jackson let out a humorless laugh.

"Stop being such a pussy about everything! I swear you are such a girl sometimes."

"I know that you're being a dick on purpose so that I can just tell you to forget about it, but that isn't gonna happen this time. I mean it Jackson. All I want is for you to spend the night with me Saturday."

"I'm not doing it. I have better shit to do than lounge around with you Saturday. Why can't we do it Tuesday?" Stiles shook his head. He could feel his frustration threatening to boil over.

"You know I spend Tuesdays with my dad. You never spend time with me." Unless sex was involved, but Stiles wasn't gonna get into that with Jackson. Pull one tooth at a time and hopefully he ended up getting his way.

"I've been planning this weekend for a month. I can't just blow it off because your loser friends suddenly got a life and you're lonely," Jackson spat.

"Oh get over your fucking self. You go on this stupid hunting trip several times a year. And you and your douchebag friends never even hunt. You just spend the whole weekend drinking and talking about how fucking awesome you think you are," Stiles retorted.

"Who fucking cares what we do? It's my time to hang with my friends."

"You throw bitch fits all the time when my friends are involved," Stiles pointed out. Jackson snorted obnoxiously.

"You're friends are fucking losers. I'm doing you a favor by dragging you away from them." Jackson's looking Stiles dead in the eyes and Stiles knows that he is serious.

"I could say the same about those idiots you call friends. And why does it always come back to my friends being losers? I don't go around criticizing you on your friends."

"That's because my friends aren't losers." Jackson sounded so unrightfully arrogant. Stiles rolled his eyes and threw Jackson a dirty look.

"No, but if you started recruiting friends based on IQs, those jerk offs wouldn't make the cut." Not that Scott was ever going to be valedictorian, but Scott had a lot of other qualities that kept him in the running for outstanding friend. When he wasn't blinded by any and all things Allison, that is.

"Cute Stilinski. I love how you just keep adding on to the list of reasons why I shouldn't give two fucks about canceling my plans this weekend." Stiles stood there for a minute, taking in what Jackson had just said. Did he really believe half the shit that left his mouth? He was making it seem like Stiles was the problem here. Manipulative bastard.

"You're the one…who's changing the subject!" Stiles shouted suddenly. The sneaky son of a bitch was purposely throwing out random insults. "This isn't even about your pathetic jock friends. This is about the fact that your priorities are majorly fucked up."

"So what, you want me to reevaluate everything in my life and move you to the top of the list? Should I just call off everything and cater to your every beck and call?" Jackson asked. Stiles could practically taste the sarcasm in his words.

"I'm not asking you to do that, Jackson! I don't want to be number one all the damn time. I get that some things in life are more important than your relationship. Trust me; I learned that with Scott and Allison. But I don't want to be at the very fucking bottom of the list all the time. It would be nice if you, I don't know, placed me above watching Youtube videos all day." Was that so much to ask for? He didn't want to spend every second of the day with Jackson kissing his ass, but he wanted to at least be acknowledged.

"You are so damn selfish," Jackson replied slowly after a minute or two. Stiles choked on the shock that rose up in his throat at Jackson's accusation. He looked at Jackson, face holding an incredulous expression.

"I'm selfish? Well isn't that the pot calling the kettle black."

"I'm just speaking the truth. You're egotistic and you're possessive. Can this not be about you for one fucking second?" The matter-of-fact tone that Jackson used did nothing to decrease Stiles' ire.

"That's really fucking rich coming from you Jackson. Everything is always, always about you. So maybe I am being a little selfish, but I think I fucking deserve it because you're a really shitty boyfriend."

"If I'm such a shitty boyfriend then why are you with me?" Jackson asked. He sounded so damn smug, like Stiles should be kissing his feet. It pissed him off that Jackson wasn't even taking this seriously.

"I don't know sometimes. Honestly, I ask myself that question all the time. I haven't come up with a profound enough answer, but when I do I'll text it to you," Stiles replied sarcastically. Jackson seemed to have forgotten that he was the reigning king of cynicism.

"You know what, save yourself the headache. Maybe we should break up." Jackson didn't even blink at the words. As a matter of fact, he sounded a bit sure of himself, like he expected Stiles to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness.

"Fine Jackson. Go on your stupid hunting trip. You don't have to worry about upsetting your boyfriend because you officially don't have one." Two could play this game.

"Oh come on Stilinski!" Jackson sound exasperated, but Stiles didn't take that as a sign of victory. "I'll let you blow me if you just drop this wounded puppy routine you have going." And that's why.

"See that's what I'm talking about. You never take me serious." Everything that Stiles said was always a joke to Jackson.

"How can I when you're always playing the breakup card?" And okay, that held a little bit of truth in it, but Stiles wasn't going to fall for Jackson's mind game. He was holding his ground this time.

"You believe what you want to, but we're over Jackson. I'm seriously done this time. You should leave."

"Whatever dude. I'll see you tomorrow." Jackson waved his hand in a dismissive manner, grabbed his bag and headed towards the door. Stiles followed him out his bedroom and down the stairs.

"I'm not kidding Jackson," he said, keeping his voice as even as possible. His heart was hammering in his chest and he was sure that Jackson could hear it, being a supernatural asshole and all. It was probably why Jackson never believed him when he said he was done.

Jackson didn't offer anything in response, just opened Stiles' front door and let himself out.

"Stupid asshole," Stiles muttered. He locked the front door and made his way back upstairs.

"Why did you break up this time?" Allison asked as soon as she saw him enter the school building. Scott was nowhere in sight so Stiles figured he was running late again.

"Is it that obvious?" Stiles asked. Allison nodded her head in affirmative and Stiles let out a sigh. "How can you tell?"

"You mean besides the fact that he isn't plastered all over you, letting everyone know that you're his?" It was true. Jackson was a possessive bastard. He didn't particularly like PDA, but he was such a selfish prick that he wanted to eliminate any and every threat that he thought existed inside the city limits of Beacon Hills.

"He deserved it this time." Well he deserved it every time, but this time was intensified by the fact that Stiles hadn't spent any actual time with Jackson in over two weeks. "I asked him to spend the weekend with me, just hanging out, and he flipped his shit."

"Who flipped their shit?" Scott asked, making an entrance. He didn't give Stiles a chance to answer. Instead he turned to Allison. "Happy Tuesday." He kissed Allison as a greeting and Stiles scowled as it progressed into a mild make out session. God, was that how he looked with Jackson?

"Whenever the two of you are done tasting the remains of each other's breakfast," Stiles muttered darkly. Scott smirked apologetically at him and Allison blushed a little. Scott's face fell suddenly, scowl taking over.

"Douchebag alert at 2:00." Stiles swiveled his head around, but didn't find who Scott was talking about. Allison giggled a little, before tapping Stiles on the shoulder.

"He means 6:00," she explained, jerking her head towards the right direction. Stiles rolled his eyes at Scott's stupidity and turned towards the direction Allison pointed him in.

His breath caught when he spotted Jackson. Jackson looked hot on any day, but he always seemed to look absolutely stunning after they broke up. It was totally unfair, because while Stiles was sulking around, Jackson was growing more attractive. It didn't help that Jackson was popular and could literally have anyone in school he wanted. Stiles….not so much.

Dating Jackson did surprisingly little for his seemingly permanent loser status. Not that he could care about that. There were more important things than high school popularity. Such as not getting eaten alive whenever the supernatural was involve, which they always were. That didn't mean that it didn't kill him a little bit inside to know that Jackson could replace him in his life so easily.

Jackson managed to catch Stiles staring at him. He could tell the moment that Jackson found his face in the crowd because that signature smug smirk of his made an appearance. As much as Stiles loathed that smirk, he couldn't help but admit that it looked damn good on Jackson's face. Lydia was suddenly there next to Jackson, looking just as gorgeous as he was. Stiles watched in horror as Jackson slung an arm over Lydia's shoulder before walking off in the opposite direction.

"Whoa, are Lydia and Jackson back together?" Scott asked. His mouth was hanging open in its usual way, signaling that he hadn't gotten any smarter in the past 24 hours.

"It seems that way," Stiles stated grimly. He waited a few seconds, waiting for Scott's obviously underused brain to catch up.

"But he's….you…You guys broke up again?" Scott asked. His voice was filled with astonishment and Stiles let out a humorless laugh.

"You'd think that we've never broken up before. But yes genius, we broke up again. I'm a free man." Stiles slammed his locker shut.

"It doesn't really seem like you want to be a free man," Scott committed. Allison let out a little huff as way of an apology for Scott's total obliviousness to other people's feelings.

"Wow, what gave it away? Because I thought I was doing a stand up job at being happy with having broken up with my boyfriend." Stiles glared at Scott. Scott, the idiot that he was, didn't seem to even notice.

"Why don't you ask Lydia how she kept Jackson happy for three years?" Scott suggested in what Stiles suspected was a supposed to be a useful voice.

"Right, because I'm just dying to talk to my boyfriend's ex about how she kept him satisfied," Stiles gritted out bitterly.

"Well she did something right because you're the ex now and she's walking around with Jackson." Stiles turned to glare at Scott, channeling all of his inner Derek.

"I will seriously kick you in the balls if you don't fucking shut up." Scott looked a little surprised at Stiles' hostile words and Allison grabbed on to Scott's arm and tugged him away.

"Come on; don't wanna be late for class do you?" Scott followed after her with that stupid, love struck grin. Allison turned and looked at Stiles over her shoulder, mouthing the word sorry. Stiles just shook his head. It wasn't her fault that Scott was a moron.

The week passed by too slowly for Stiles. School was a drag. He shared two classes with Jackson, which wouldn't be so bad if Stiles was conflicted between choking him and kissing him. It sucked ass hard because they shared History together and were currently going over Greek mythology. Stiles loved Greek mythology, but couldn't concentrate on it worth shit because with every day they were broken up, Jackson got sexier. And the stupid smug bastard knew it. Stiles could tell by the way he sauntered in class, refusing to meet Stiles' eyes, but wearing that dumb grin the entire period.

Math was even worse because he shared that class with both Jackson and Lydia. It made him absolutely sick that the two of them were back together. They made a good couple. They were both gorgeous and bitchy and hormonal. And they made more sense together than Jackson and Stiles ever did. It just hurt so damn much to see Jackson move on from him so quickly. They hadn't even been apart an entire week yet when Jackson had already rekindled the flames with Lydia.

Luckily they didn't make out, which was kind of weird. Lydia was just as possessive as Jackson and Stiles found it hard to believe that either of them would be together and not make their mark. Maybe Jackson didn't want his lips sticky with Lydia's lipstick and gloss combo. And Stiles was pretty sure he heard Lydia say that she spent $80 on that lipstick. It didn't seem likely that she'd waste a single application kissing Jackson.

Stiles wasn't thinking too deeply into that though because he would kill himself if he had to watch them make out. Or possible choke to death on his own vomit, which would probably be a lighter blow to his dad. What it didn't help was his self-esteem. Though Jackson was a class A, jerk face, he did reassure Stiles that he was one hot stud muffin. He had to be for Jackson to stay with him. Yet that seemed to only work if Jackson was actually with him, seeing as how he felt about as attractive as horse crap.

This was the longest time they'd ever gone without making up. It was tearing Stiles apart inside, but he refused to kiss Jackson's ass. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Jackson was with Lydia and he was positive that Jackson would never make the mistake of leaving Lydia for him again. So instead of dwelling on the fact that his boyfriend, who he really did love or else he wouldn't have put up with his shit, wasn't his boyfriend anymore, he threw himself into the pack.

Surprisingly he and Derek were the equivalent of best bros, though not quite because Derek was absolutely set on not letting Stiles call them that. Derek was refreshingly chill when he wasn't stressing out about hunters and killing Jackson and hunters and turning teens into werewolves…and hunters. And okay the only thing that he wasn't still stressing out about was turning teenagers and killing Jackson, though sometimes it was hard to tell if that was true.

Derek and Stiles had the same taste in music and movies and cars, Stiles jeep not withstanding because he was in fucking high school and didn't have a ton of inheritance money. And Derek was a thousand times better at cheering him up than Scott was, who he hadn't seen very much of because him and Allison were sharing their anniversary for another stupid date that didn't even make sense; because who celebrated the anniversary for the first time they held hands? The defining moment in their newly found bro-ship was when Derek took him to see The Dark Knight Rises and let him drive the Camaro. To say that Stiles was completely touched by the gesture was an understatement. He nearly cried. But Derek, suave BAMF that he was just hunched his shoulders and gave Stiles one of those Edward Cullen looks; deep, brooding and intense.

That was two weeks ago.

Derek had been relying on Stiles pretty heavily lately, but Stiles already knew why. After a month of being Jackson free, Stiles was still secretly pining after said douchnozzle. And apparently Derek had finally had enough of it. They had just finished training Isaac – they because Derek wasn't the best when it came to patience – when Derek decided that Stiles needed to get laid.

"Are you serious? You're talking about getting laid?" Stiles asked, mouth hanging open in shock. Derek was like the king of celibacy.

"The best way to get over a person is to have great sex with someone else," Derek replied with a shrug. "Or have them burn your family alive, cause that works wonders too." Stiles' mouth fell open wider. He was still getting used to Derek joking. Derek joking about his family and Kate Argent didn't happen.

"I'm not going to comment on that out of fear that you're going to rip my toes off and feed them to me," Stiles said slowly. Derek smirked grimly.

"Good thinking. What do you say? Want to hit up that gay club again?"

"You mean the gay club that I'm technically not old enough to get into?" Stiles asked sourly.

"It's an 18 and older club, Stiles. They're gonna let you in this time," Derek remarked. Stiles shrugged in understanding, before something crossed his mind.

"Wait a minute, why a gay club? I sleep with Jackson and suddenly I'm on a strict dick diet?" he asked, hands moving animatedly. Derek snickered.

"You dated Jackson. And the fact that I've never seen you go after a chick, Lydia not included because she'd might as well have a penis, seals the deal. And it's easier to find a guy that can tolerate you than a girl."

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you just insulted me. Why do you want to go to a gay club?" Stiles asked slyly. Derek shrugged.

"I'm not gay, but I'm confident in myself. And there's a straight bartender... " Stiles watched the sly grin spread over Derek's handsome face. Of course there'd be an ulterior motive.

"You're using me to bang some chick," Stiles pointed out. "not get me laid."

"I'm killing two birds with one stone. You want to go or not? Because if I have to look at the 'I miss Jackson' face one more day, I'll tear your head off." Stiles was 99.9% sure that Derek wouldn't do that, but that .1% was more than he was willing to bank on.

"Okay, fine. But if I don't get laid, you'll owe me big time." Stiles grabbed his coat and headed towards Derek's car. If they were really doing this, there was no way he was showing up in the jeep. She was his baby, but she'd definitely seen better days…most of those days existing in a time when werewolves were strictly fictional.

"You are not getting in my car like that. You're sweaty and you stink," Derek replied, yanking Stiles back by the collar of his shirt.

"Dude, come on! You've bled in my jeep…several times!" Stiles exclaimed. Derek didn't look impressed.

"You're jeep isn't my Camaro. Moreover, you aren't getting laid smelling like that." Stiles scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Whose fault is it anyway? I certainly didn't plan on spending my night sweating it out in this death bed you call a lair. You're the one who wanted my help training Isaac."

"You call it a lair. And you should feel honored I asked for your help."

"Because of my awesome training skills?" Stiles asked excitedly. Derek gave him an unimpressed look.

"Because you managed to keep Scott somewhat alive and unharmed with your training skills," Derek corrected. Stiles shrugged. Same thing really.

"Since the guy who should have been training him was M.I.A majority of the time."

"The guy that should have been training him was trying to stay out of jail long enough to do anything," Derek shot back.

"Are you ever going to let that go?" Stiles asked sheepishly.

"Not a chance. Go shower and wear something that isn't plaid. Better yet," Derek replied, tossing Stiles a bag. "wear that. I estimated on your size, but it should fit well enough." Stiles caught the bag and looked through it. Black t-shirt and dark grey jeans. Great, he was going as Derek Jr.

"You went shopping for this? Why – how did you even know I would agree?" Stiles asked curiously.

"Agreeing was never the problem. Once I set out on a goal, I achieve it by any means necessary. You've got an hour to get ready. Not a second more, so if you don't want me to drag you out of your house soaking wet and naked, you better move your ass."

Stiles didn't need to be told twice.

I just want to let you guys know that this was supposed to have been a one-shot. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it (It's unfortunate for me because I already have so many other projects with multiple parts and this just got added to the list. It's fortunate though because it ends up being more detailed this way…although I don't know how I'm going to finish this and my school work…)I couldn't leave this as a one-shot.

ALSO I FOUND THE CUTEST STEREK PICTURE EVER ON TYLER H'S INSTAGRAM ACCOUNT (no I'm not stalking...much) IF YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED MY AVATAR, LOOK AT IT! ISN'T IT CUTE!?

Review and don't sugarcoat it.