Sam raises his hips as Stiles tugs off his clothes, skin sending sparks of desire down his limbs with every hesitant brush of his fingers. More. Every tentative brush of lips and fingers draws another quiet moan, a press up into his fingers. Then he's stroking him fully erect and all he can do is groan and try not to buck up into his palm.

His smile is a little dazed, his eyes already blown dark with need. Fingers brush his cheek and into his hair. "Sure. Anything you want."