Notes

Scott discovers Hank's weakness... and promptly takes advantage.

Hank Pym was, by most standards, an incredibly rude, abrasive old man who treated any he disrespected with not even the slightest hint of politeness or manners. On the other hand, those he did like reaped the benefits, such as the privilege of spending more than 5 minutes with him without him becoming intolerably unpleasant.
Scott was one such lucky fellow, and it was because of the extended amounts of time he sometimes spent with Hank that he got to see... certain aspects of him. It was an isolated incident, but it quickly became so, so much more.
He'd been having coffee with Hank, and it was early in the morning (as it often is when one has coffee) so Hank hadn't bothered to dress much. He was outfitted in not his pajamas - god forbid Scott ever catch him in those - but nevertheless a hastily put-on dress shirt that he realized belatedly didn't fit him anymore.
But he figured Scott wouldn't notice (like he'd be interested in an old man like him anyway) - it wasn't ridiculously conspicuous or anything - and so as the conversation continued, he grew more and more relaxed that he forgot momentarily to keep a grip on his cup and consequently spilled coffee all over his shirt. It seeped into the fabric which then pressed uncomfortably against his gut, and he quickly stood up to get a replacement shirt. So preoccupied was he with fetching another shirt that he didn't notice Scott's gaze on his chest and torso, on the parts where the fabric clung to his flawless skin and revealed the muscles underneath.
Scott had always had a crush on Hank, but as soon as he glimpsed upon his impossibly muscled chest and abs, it became a lust-filled infatuation. Scott was rather polite and meek most of the time in comparison to Hank, but he did what he had to to get what he wanted. He wasn't a complete fool - he'd seen the looks Hank gave him, so similar to the ones he gave Hank. He couldn't be entirely sure, but he was almost certain Hank lusted after him almost as much as he did Hank. He figured that warranted some shameless, dirty flirting, didn't it?
So, as Hank rushed into his room with a muttered curse, Scott barely hesitated before entering the room too. Hank shot around as soon as the door creaked and stared in disbelief at Scott, who hungrily devoured the older man's toned and athletic build.
"S-Scott, get out," he tried to mutter with as much venom as he could usually muster for those he disliked, but embarrassment filled and disabled him, and a wave of shyness colored his cheeks red. He wanted to suddenly hate Scott, enough to muster the will to get over his self-image and physically push him out of the room, but... to be honest, it wasn't all too unpleasant...
Wait, no, he hadn't said, he hadn't said that, there was absolutely nothing enjoyable or pleasant whatsoever about-
Scott took a step forward and Hank instinctively held his wet shirt against his chest like some kind of defense mechanism, but Scott simply tore it out of his grasp and threw it haphazardly onto the floor. His gaze narrowed and he stared at Hank's chest with single-minded determination. Then, he took another step even as Hank scrambled away desperately.
"S-Scott, now, please." He felt his bare back hit the wall and he pressed against the cool surface even as Scott continued to advance. He was close now, close enough to press his chest against Hank's, and the sudden contact made the older man shiver. It suddenly occurred to him that he was shirtless but Scott wasn't. Scott was, in fact, fully clothed, and now shoving Hank against the wall, holding his wrists against it as his mouth pressed against his ear and whispered something.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he whispered lustily, pressing his clothed figure against Hank's muscled one shamelessly. Hank writhed helplessly underneath.
"How long I've wanted to just shove you against the wall and take you." He lowered his head and dragged his lips across Hank's bared throat, forcing the man into a spasm as the sensation overtook him.
"S-Scott-" He managed to splutter, face red, before Scott let go of one wrist and brought his hand up to one of Hank's incredibly well-defined pectorals. He grasped the unblemished skin in his palm and dragged the rough surface of his palm against Hank's inexplicably smooth skin and dragging a reluctant moan out of the older man.