
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2176881.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale/Peter_Hale, Derek_Hale/Peter
      Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Peter_Hale, Derek_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      Oral_Sex, Anal_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Hair-pulling, Threesome_-_M/M/M,
      Knotting, Uncle/Nephew_Incest, Teasing, Light_Dom/sub, HaleCest, Season/
      Series_03A_Spoilers
  Series:
      Part 5 of Painted
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-08-21 Words: 8271
****** Care to Join Us ******
by demonkatgurl17
Summary
     Stiles stumbles across a surprising encounter. Then stays to play.
Notes
     OMG I feel so bad about not getting more fic updates out this summer.
     Lot of crazy/tragic shit went down in my family and that combined
     with lethargy and lack of writing enthusiasm just made made my
     progress fall flat on its face and I feel horrible. Hoping to make
     some progress in my Jagged series since it's now the longest without
     an update, but I wanted to throw out this little porny bit that I've
     had partly sewn together for a while now.
See the end of the work for more notes
 
Before the elevator doors had fully opened, Stiles shoved his way into the
dingy compartment, his fingers finding and pressing into the button for the top
floor more times than absolutely necessary. He was on edge, impatient as the
doors slowly reclosed around him just before it made its laborious way up and
up and up.
Stiles bounced nervously on his heels—letting his anxiety find somekind of
release—aware of the fast beat of his heart and the sweat on his skin, of the
overly clean feeling inside himself left over from when he’d flushed himself
with his enema hours ago when Peter had texted him, asking him to do it.
But now, instead of being in Peter’s apartment, he was on his way up to Derek’s
loft, rerouted from where he’d originallybeen heading before receiving an
emergency text from the older man, saying that he’d found Derek and urgently
needed Stiles to come to the loft.
Filled with nervous energy and fearing the worst, Stiles had turned his Jeep
around, his mind going through scenario after scenario (each bloodier than the
last) as he went through gears with less than his usual care.
Whatever it was, it had to be important. Peter had yet to bail on their ‘play
times’—not that there had been all that many, thus far—and Stiles had a feeling
that people needed to be dying in order to divert the older man’s attention
from his own cock (he was kind of narcissistic like that).
Which was why, when the elevator finally shuddered to a halt, Stiles battered
his way through the widening gap of the doors and jogged into the main room of
the loft, his gaze darting all over. Nothing, no one lying in pool of blood, no
one period, which meant that either no one was here or that they were in
another part of the loft, like the upper floor or the niche that served as
Derek’s ‘room’.
Putting off climbing the spiral staircase, Stiles lengthened his stride, fast
approaching the opposite end of the loft, his shoes skidding slightly on the
concrete floor as he made a sharp turn at the hole in the brick wall and—
Stiles came to an abrupt halt, his brain fighting to process the sight on
Derek’s bed.
At least he wasn’t the only one who looked surprised.
Completely naked on the bed lay Peter and Derek, the latter scrambling to pull
the coverlet half over himself while Peter obligingly moved out of the way. Not
like it mattered. The image of Derek being sucked off by his own uncle had
already been seared into Stiles’s brain, running on a loop in Stiles’s head.
He didn’t have heightened senses like the other two, but if he did, he imagined
that he would be deafened by the quick pounding of his own heart, startled by
what he’d walked in on.
“Look who finally showed up to the party,” Peter casually drawled over his
shoulder, as though he hadn’t just wiped spittle off of his chin from blowing
his nephew.
Derek jerked his attention away from where Stiles stood like a deer caught in
headlights to stare at Peter in confused betrayal. “You knew he was coming?” he
hissed through gritted teeth, obviously upset about being found in such a
compromising position.
“I invited him,” Peter said mischievously. He tugged on the blanket Derek was
shielding himself with, the material stretching taut for a moment before the
alpha grudgingly allowed it to slip away, revealing Derek’s slightly-flagging
erection.
From the instant the blanket slid off of Derek’s lap, Stiles’s eyes were glued
to the thick girth of the alpha’s cock, jutting proudly from the thatch of dark
curling hair around it. He was a few meters away, but Stiles felt sure that
Derek’s cock was about as long as Peter’s, though maybe a bit thicker, his skin
flushing darker…
It was still gorgeous and Stiles found himself reacting, his own cock swelling
up to press against the zipper of his jeans.
“How about we let him join,” Peter stage-whispered coaxingly, his eyes roaming
over Stiles as much as Derek’s were. “You can practically taste the desire
coming off him. How much he wants it...”
A flush rose on Stiles’s face and he shivered under the predatory gaze of both
men. He felt like a bug under a magnifying glass, his arousal painfully evident
to their supernaturally keen senses of smell, because there was no way they
could miss how aroused he was. And from the way Derek’s eyes wandered down
Stiles’s torso and remained focused on his crotch, Stiles thought it was a fair
bet that the outline of his erection was visible, too.
But underneath his urges was a feeling that he was unwelcome here, definitely
not from Peter, but from Derek, who hadn’t known or agreed to Stiles waltzing
into his loft. People have secrets and most don’t like having them found out
and this? —this was the kind of thing that some would killto keep quiet. As
often as Derek turned to violence as a solution, Stiles was starting to feel
wary of how intently Derek was looking at him, of the tight set of his jaw, of
the bunched up muscles in Derek’s arms and torso.
Alright, it was a fairly even mixture of worry and arousal, but it wasn’t
Stiles’s fault that he was attracted to guys who could literally tear him
apart.
That thought shouldn’t turn him on so much.
“I, uh, I’m okay,” Stiles stuttered, shuffling a foot backwards carefully.
“Actually, I should probably just, y’know….leave you guys to it. Not that
there’s anything here to do. Or see. Nothing to see here. So…I’ll just go and
let you continue doing…nothing,” he finished awkwardly, still backing up
molasses-slow, as though Peter and Derek (mostly Derek) were man-eating tigers
and a swift retreat would bring their claws down upon him.  
His fear wasn’t completely off-base. He still had the occasional nightmare
where he woke up as his dream-self was gutted or mutilated by a moon-crazed
werewolf (more often than not, the wolf was someone he knew and not just a
faceless monster).
But escape didn’t seem to be in the cards because Peter slid off the bed and
slinked towards him, entirely at ease with his state of nudity.
Stiles was ok with naked-Peter, even as he was wary of naked-Derek. Naked-Peter
usually had a mesmerizing effect on Stiles, showing off all the delicious
places that the teen longed to touch, that he himself longed to have touched…
His dick throbbed eagerly as it anticipated having the older man’s hands on it
(as things usually ended up when Peter stripped down to nothing).
So, naturally, Stiles had frozen in place as Peter got closer and closer,
invading his space, pressing his body in a warm line against Stiles’s from knee
to torso. Stiles was about to start babbling again when Peter leaned in and
captured his lips in a rough kiss.
Whether it was because he was so new to another’s touch or because Peter had an
addictive effect on him, Stiles didn’t know, but either way he was soon melting
into Peter’s kiss, whimpering faintly when the older man got a grip on his hair
and tugged, drawing Stiles’s head back enough to nip and suck at the teen’s
throat.
It wasn’t until Peter’s other wandering hand rested on Stiles’s ass, guiding
him to grind against Peter’s bare thigh, that Stiles felt a nagging sensation,
like he was forgetting something important.
A strangled groan from behind Peter only intensified the feeling until reality
caught up with him: Derek was just across the room.
Oh, god…
And here he was, humping Peter’s leg like a bitch in heat.
His eyes snapped open—he hadn’t remembered closing them—sliding his gaze down
from the ceiling to the man on the bed.
Stiles nearly
choked.                                                                                                           
Staring at them from across the room, Derek languidly stroked his fully
recovered erection, and his face—
Stiles had never seen Derek look at him like that, like the alpha wanted to eat
him up. Literally.
“Look at him,” Peter whispered in his ear, not that it really mattered when
Derek could hear things that were on the other side of the freaking loft, much
less couple meters away. “Look at how much he wants you.”
Me? Stiles thought dazedly. He was having trouble believing that the desire on
Derek’s normally-scowling face was meant for him, that he was he reason that
droplets of precome were dripping down the alpha’s shaft, making each pump
slick and easy. Unconsciously, he pawed at Peter, his fingers sliding over the
man’s skin, wanting to touch something, wanting to touch Derek, but he didn’t
know what to say that would get him there and not thrown out on his face.
Peter—clever, intuitive Peter—seemed to understand did all the work for him,
pulling away to walk back to the bed dragging Stiles along by his wrist, who
was so overwhelmed that he followed like an obedient puppy. At the edge of the
bed, Peter abandoned his hold and slid into the mess of covers next to Derek,
leaving Stiles to stand awkwardly by himself, almost sweating from how
inadequate he felt.
These two living works of art wanted him to join them?
What a joke.
While Stiles fidgeted nervously, warring with his self-doubt, Peter gave Derek
a sidelong expectant look until the alpha rolled his eyes.
Stiles didn’t have time to interpret the silent conversation because, without
warning Derek had moved to kneel in front of him at the edge of the mattress,
so close that precome slicking his cock could smear onto Stiles’s shirt if he
were to lean forward a few more inches. The scent of sweat and musk fogged
Stiles’s brain and he had to blink several times until he could focus properly
on Derek’s face (not just on his mouth).
“Do you want this?” Derek asked, his tone far gentler than Stiles had ever
heard.
That alone stayed the cocky answer on the tip of his tongue. The words seemed
to stick in his throat, forcing him to nod helplessly, pleading with his eyes
for the alpha to tell him what to do because his mind had gone completely
blank. His limbs felt as useless and ungainly as clubs, and Stiles cringed
inside, feeling his teenage body was inadequate in comparison to the man before
him.
He was kind of terrified to initiate anything, in case this was all an
elaborate con to get his hopes up and then shatter them on the floor.
Derek’s lips twitched in a shadow of a smile. Did he have a clue as to what was
going on in Stiles’s head?
Stiles stopped breathing entirely when the alpha reached up, his hand curling
around the back of Stiles’s neck and tugging him forward into a soft kiss,
surprising the teen.
Stiles heard a tiny whimper and it took him a second to realize it had come
from himself. He’d have felt more embarrassed if Derek wasn’t giving his bottom
lip little kittenish licks, teasing Stiles’s mouth open. At the first touch of
Derek’s tongue against his own, Stiles unconsciously leaned forward, pressing
as much of his body against the alpha as he could, wanting to feel more of him.
Derek seemed to like how the teen melted in his arms, if his pleased hum was
anything to go by. At least his wasn’t pushing away.
Something hard and thick nudged Stiles’s hip, distracting him enough to break
the kiss, look down, and just about have a heart attack at the sight of Derek
Hale’s cock leaving white viscous smears on his t-shirt.
“Should probably take your clothes off before they get messed up,” Derek said,
not sounding the least bit sorry about the trails he’d already left.
“Uh, y-yeah,” Stiles stammered, quick to agree even though he could care less
about the state of his clothes. Peter and Derek both could take turns painting
his shirt with their come and Stiles would count himself as one lucky guy. But
then his shirt was being pulled over his head and a pair of hands was at his
belt before Stiles’s eagerness to join the party reared its head.
It was a good thing Derek had superhuman strength and speed, otherwise Stiles
was pretty sure they’d have both tumbled to the floor when the teen wobbled
erratically, trying to take off his shoes and socks at the same time Derek was
sliding down his jeans, forcing the alpha to steady him.
“Easy,” Peter lazily admonished, watching them both with obvious amusement. “No
need to rush.”
Seriously? Stiles was sure he’d explode if the wind caught him just right—and
if that did happen, he at least wanted the excuse of having their hands on him.
Finally, Stiles managed to kick away his shoes and the tangle his clothing had
become, leaving him standing bare in the slight chill of the loft. He opened
his mouth, intending to ask how this was all going to work, but he ended up
closing it, not wanting to say something stupid in front of his current and
soon-to-be lovers.
“Hey,” Derek breathed, catching Stiles’s wavering attention. “It’s ok.” Derek
wrapped his hand around Stiles’s wrist and shuffled backwards on his knees,
making the teen crawl onto the bed with him and sprawl between the two adults.
That didn’t exactly make Stiles any less intimidated.
But thankfully he wasn’t allowed to focus on how cornered he felt because lips
were on his neck before he quite realized that Peter had moved, and Stiles
sighed, his eyes drifting shut as the older man nibbled and sucked along his
jugular, relaxing even as he felt Derek’s hands start to trail over his torso.
Lips pressed against his and Stiles responded instinctively, melting into
Derek’s slow, deep kiss, his hands tentatively moving over the alpha’s chest.
If Stiles had to describe what bliss felt like, it probably would have involved
an unhealthy amount of praise for the Hale family’s skillful mouths. Though
when a hand curled around his cock, Stiles’s opinion on bliss changed
dramatically.
“Mmph!”Stiles’s moan was muffled against Derek’s mouth as he bucked up into the
loose grip to try to get more friction, friction that the alpha didn’t seem to
feel Stiles needed as he stroked up and down, not quite making a fist around
the teen’s sensitive flesh.
Stiles couldn’t see Peter’s lips twist into a wicked grin, but he could feel
the huff of breath on his neck from the man’s barely audible chuckle, and a
surge of spite had Stiles reaching over blindly to grasp Peter’s own erection,
squeezing almost too-tightly.
He smiled against Derek’s lips at Peter’s sharp inhale. Got you, he thought,
relishing in his minor victory. See how muchyoulike to be teased.
But even Stiles knew that small battles don’t win wars, and from the tiny growl
Peter sent him, he knew it was far from over.
Peter angled down to take Stiles’s nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue
against it and teasing it with his teeth, making Stiles break the kiss as he
rocked more insistently into Derek’s not-quite-there grip, the alpha leaning
back to hungrily watch Stiles’s face. A particularly hard suck drew a whimper
from Stiles, the teen squeezing the prize in his hand all the more tightly for
it, then Peter released him, and in his relief, Stiles’s grip eased up too,
which Peter immediately seized upon, yanking Stiles’s hand off of him and
pinning the teen’s wrist above his head.
“Cute,” Peter breathed down at him, his eyes bright with satisfaction at having
bested the teen.
Not that Stiles was shocked or anything. Peter seemed to get a twisted kick out
of outsmarting people— friends, foes, and lovers alike. The play-fighting in
some of his and Peter’s little meet-ups had ground in that much knowledge of
the man. Though, not much else, really.
But he wasn’t about to let Peter crow his victory when Stiles was in a mood to
move things along.
Releasing the grip he’d had on Derek’s shoulder since the man had wrapped his
hand around Stiles’s cock, Stiles made a quick reach for Peter, somehow knowing
that his hand wouldn’t land, but was surprised when it was Derek and not Peter
who snatched him by the wrist and pinned it above his head alongside its mate.
That Derek had let go of his cock to do it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Stiles and
he undulated minutely on the bed, missing the touch, though enjoying the
feeling of being held down between two men who could each handle him one-handed
and alone, much less as a team.
Derek and Peter on the same team. That sounded weird even inside Stiles’s head.
“Y’know, two against one isn’t fair. Especially when it’s you two.”
“Oh, I don’t think you mind very much,” Peter said, flicking an amused glance
over at Derek. “But if you want,” he continued, a smirk pulling at his lips,
“we can definitely make this unfair…” He trailed off, his head moving lower and
lower until his lips were once again hovering over Stiles’s peaked, abused
nipple. He used the nub to trace the outline of his lips, making the soft skin
drag tantalizingly slow over the nub before, without warning, sucking it into
his mouth.
Stiles inhaled sharply, biting back any sound he might’ve made as Peter worked
on him. He didn’t want to make things that easy for the older man.
But then Derek was leaning down, his eyes half-closed in want as he teased
Stiles’s other nipple, licking and mouthing at it as opposed to the outright
suction that his uncle was dishing out.
Under the onslaught of two mouths, Stiles felt his resolve to keep quiet crack
and then shatter at the hint of someone’s teeth and he groaned, his hips
bucking up and thrusting against air, jolts of pleasure going off in his groin
at the attention to his nipples.
“Please,” Stiles gasped out after a minute. “Please, more. I need more.” He was
teetering on the cusp of orgasm, but without a push, Stiles felt he might stay
there forever.
Red flared to life in Derek’s eyes, blocking out their normal green hazel
color. “You get more when we say you get more,” he rasped out sternly, his
voice just above a growl. Derek’s grip tightening on Stiles’s wrist as he
reclaimed the flesh he’d abandoned, sucking on it in earnest this time, making
the teen whimper briefly.
Stiles bit his lip to distract himself.
And to try to keep quiet.
Derek hadn’t expressly told him to not speak, but the dominating edge the alpha
was projecting made Stiles want to obey. And since begging clearly wasn’t going
to get him anywhere, he stubbornly refused to make a fool of himself by
carrying on—like his mouth usually did when he wanted something. Peter liked to
make him beg, but he was also quick with rewarding Stiles for good behavior.
It was too early to tell what Derek’s kinks were, but Stiles hoped that
prolonged denial wasn’t one of them.
Stiles’s lip felt bruised from his teeth by the time someone touched his cock
and his eyes rolled back in pleasure. He didn’t know or care who it was that
was stroking him, he just prayed that they didn’t stop. After only a few hand
strokes, the breath seemed to go out of Stiles entirely as his body convulsed,
trying to curl in on itself, but a strong hand clamped around his thigh,
holding him down as semen shot all over his stomach and chest.
Spent, Stiles could do little more than lie back and breathe for several
moments, even when he felt Derek and Peter let go of his wrists and shift about
on the bed. Fuck that had been good. Not quite a toe-curler, but the way his
orgasm had just hit him like that was great and he happily basked in the rush
flowing through his blood stream.
Twin sensations of warmth and light pressure on his stomach enticed Stiles into
lazily opening his eyes and what he saw didn’t disappoint him. Peter was
daintily lapping up stray droplets that were sliding down Stiles’s side while
Derek trailed a few fingers in the mess that had pooled on his belly.
All Stiles needed was some corny 70’s background music and he’d swear up and
down that he was in a real-life porno.
His softening cock gave a feeble twitch.
God he hoped they weren’t done with him yet.
A nip of teeth on his ribs was unexpected and he jerked. “Careful with the
teeth, Fido,” Stiles half-heartedly griped at Peter, aware that part of him
enjoyed the sting.
“Oh you are a tease today,” Peter laughed, delighted. “But I’m afraid that I’m
not the one who has to watch his teeth.” Playfully, he nipped at another spot,
daring Stiles to keep protesting.
Derek sent his uncle a trace of a scowl, as if unhappy for the reminder.
Stiles was inwardly grateful for it though. It would be too easy for a slip of
teeth from the alpha to actually break skin and give the teen something to
really worry about. He might like to ‘play’ with werewolves, but that didn’t
make him eager be one himself.
He had enough issues with control as it was.
Derek, though, seemed to have oodles of control—and liked having it if the
little thing with Stiles’s wrist was anything to go by. Stiles wondered if he’d
always been like that or if it was something that came with being an alpha. Was
he always the “top dog” when it came to sex?
Curiosity stuck Stiles.
Did Derek top Peter?
Honestly, Stiles wasn’t quite sure what to think about Derek and his uncle
getting it on, even though he did find the fantasy (and the apparent reality)
of it to be more than a little hot. Hell, Stiles had fantasized a lot about the
both of them, but he could only recall a handful of times where the two men
were both in the same scenario, and they were never, like, together-together.
They hadn’t exactly bothered to give him any new information, but from the way
they weren’t shying away from one another—as well as from the blowjob he’d
walked in on—Stiles didn’t think that today was a first for them.
“So, uh, you guys do this often?” Stiles asked, proud when it only came out
sounding like a question and not an accusation.
He and Peter hadn’t talked about exclusivity or anything and he wasn’t jealous,
per se, about Peter messing around with other people, but he was curious how
the thing with his own nephew had come into being. Given their past alone,
Stiles was always kind of surprised that the alpha willingly let Peter into his
home, much less around his sensitive bits.
And as much as Stiles wanted to keep touching, half of him was still trying to
wrap around the idea of Derek and Peter naked together.
“No,” Peter said, when Derek just sat there staring in constipated shock at
Stiles, as though the teen had asked him to give up state secrets. “This is a
fairly recent…development, you could say. I’ve never touched him or the rest of
my family members before, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
He was almost defensive for someone who proclaimed to not care about what
people thought of him.
It was kind of endearing.
“We’re just…expanding the possibilities of our current ‘relationship’,” Peter
continued reasonably, as though everyone rationalized away incest.
Stiles was pretty sure that this type of situation was abnormal, even by
werewolf standards.
If you could count anything that happened in Beacon Hills normal—which Stiles
really didn’t. The problem was that Stiles was actually more okay with this
than he might have imagined. What did that say about him?
Derek cleared his throat softly, dragging the teen’s attention away from his
uncle. “The option is open whether you want to ‘play’ with us. Together. You
don’t have to if you don’t want to. We’ll respect your choice either way. That
needs to be said before anything goes any further. Since it hasn’t been
discussed yet,” Derek said, looking pointedly at Peter, who merely shrugged.
“He knows he has a choice. He chose to stay,” Peter said flatly.
“After you riled him up from the moment he walked in.”
“You weren’t exactly telling him to leave when you were helping him take his
clothes off,” Peter said, looking almost bored at the flair of accusation.
“I’m staying.”
Derek and Peter looked down at him, both startled out of their argument before
it had really taken off.
Stiles wondered if they had briefly forgotten he was there. “I want in…whatever
this is,” he continued. “I’m staying. If you guys want me to leave, then you’re
gonna have to, like, tell me, ‘cause unless the bathroom or food is involved, I
don’t think I’m gonna want to leave the bed any time soon.”
The two older men just looked at each other, apparently having a silent
conversation. Whatever the question was over must have been settled because
Peter smiled devilishly and turned his attention back to Stiles.
“And how can we possibly make your stay more comfortable?” he purred, a hand
wandering out to stroke Stiles’s hip.
His body must have had enough of a break because soon Stiles’s cock was filling
up again, eager at the prospect of more.
“Well, I’d have to say I’m pretty comfortable, but then again I’ve also gotten
a load out. You guys, though,” he waved his hand at their laps, where their own
cocks were still hard and heavy, waiting for release, “I’m kind of worried
about you. You’ve been hard for way longer than me. Those have to be hurting.”
“I know Iwouldn’t mind a release, but if Derek gets much further along,” Peter
drawled lazily, nodding towards his nephew’s lap, “then he’ll have biology to
contend with.”
“That’s only when I’m inside someone,” Derek said, nearly cutting Peter off.
It took a second for that to sink in, and when it did, Stiles’s mind nearly
overloaded.
“You want to fuck me.” He said it as a statement because it was obvious. Or at
least Stiles wanted it to be obvious. God only knows how many times Stiles had
come, thinking about the alpha taking him. He wasn’t sure whether he had a
werewolf thing or a Hale thing.
Derek was silent, his eyes roving over Stiles’s body before finally he nodded.
“Yeah.” He placed a hand on the inside of one of Stiles’s splayed thighs and
gently petted it, not stroking high enough to touch the teen’s cock, but
certainly close enough to get his attention.
The touch was making Stiles’s legs start to tremble, fantasies of all the
things those fingers could do to him running together in his head, vying for
attention. Stiles took a deep calming breath, trying to get himself under
control again.
“Yeah, you could do that,” Stiles said, going for nonchalance, but the faint
tremor in his voice kind of ruined it.
The bed shifted beside him, reminding Stiles that Peter was still there (which,
awkward? Stiles had essentially given the man’s nephew permission to fuck him).
Peter, to his credit, didn’t look jealous or bothered by the request. In fact,
he had reached over to the table on his side of the bed and was settling back
on the bed with a tube of lubricant that he had pulled out of a drawer.
“You don’t mind the lack of condoms, do you Derek? I prefer to not use them
when he’s clean. Had him flush himself out not long before I sent him that last
text.”
Derek, who had seemed ready to jump Stiles’s bones, looked over at Peter
quizzically. “’Flush himself out’?”
“Yes.” Peter nudged the teen. “Turn over. Hands and knees. Show Derek what a
good boy you are.”
A quiver of heat stole down Stiles’s spine. He clumsily hastened to do as he
was told, even going so far as to lean down so that his chest was pressed to
the bed while his ass stuck up straight into the air. Face half buried in
Derek’s covers, he marveled at the fact that he was once again in this
position—especially after having been thrown out on his ass by the one he was
currently baring it to.
Strange how the universe worked.
The room was uncomfortably quiet apart from the sound of breathing (mainly
Stiles’s own).
What the hell was wrong? Stiles thought anxiously, feeling the prickling of a
nervous sweat about to break out on his skin.
“Hey, I know my ass is pretty much a work of art, but I didn’t think it was
that breathtaking,” he quipped, an effort to break the ice that seemed to be
forming over their little moment.
Stiles heard the soft, familiar sound of Peter’s low chuckle and was about to
throw a snide comment at him, but then the bed shifted—someone was moving
forward—and Stiles started at a hesitant brush across the swell of his ass.
It definitely wasn’t Peter. Peter touched Stiles’s body as though he was
entitled to it, but this? This was curiosity, this was discovering something
new, this was Derek looking at the most secret of places of Stiles’s body and
for some reason Stiles was shy in a way he hadn’t felt since he’d taken off his
clothes.
Self-conscious, Stiles blushed, almost mortified when he felt his hole flexing
involuntarily.
Oh god oh god oh god oh god.
What if Derek didn’t like how he looked?
Immediately, the logic-driven part of Stiles dismissed the thought with
derision. Not like how I look? It’s a fuckingsphincter, for Christ’s sake. They
all look thesame.
He felt his cheeks being spread, further baring him to the world, and he held
his breath, unable to think past a panicked internal litany of “ohmygod”. A
gust of air against him made him choke.
“He won’t break, Derek,” Peter huffed impatiently.
Yeah he might, Stiles wanted to say.
He was hardly a virgin anymore, but he felt antsy like one. Maybe it was from
having a new partner?
Warm air fluttered over him before its meaning could register, and then
something warm and solid passed over Stiles’s entrance in one long firm lick.
Mindlessly, Stiles pushed back against it, his body eager and wanting before
the rest of him could catch up, but he soon regained the presence of mind
needed to force himself to stay still (well as still as he could manage
anyway).
A quick stab through his clenching hole and Stiles forgot all about trying to
restrain himself, arching to press his ass against Derek’s face without a trace
of shame. At least he wasn’t the only one not bothering to hold back, though.
Derek’s tongue was working him open with quick, rough jabs, as if the alpha was
trying to get as much of it inside of the teen as he could to see just how
‘clean’ Stiles was.
God Stiles loved this, loved being eaten out. Before Peter, Stiles had
questioned the loud moans and begging from the porn stars in his spank bank
material, but after experiencing it himself—again and again and again—he could
totally vouch for at least 85 percent of their authenticity.
Mostly because Stiles wasn’t a hypocrite. Or quiet.
Pain flared at the back of Stiles’s head as his hair was pulled, forcing him up
onto his hands when his head was guided up, up, up and back. Open-mouthed and
panting, Stiles blinked up at Peter, the older man’s gaze sharp with hunger.
“Beautiful,” Peter whispered, his eyes locked onto the teen’s face.
“Please,” Stiles gasped out, the awkward angle making him strain to get the
words out. He wasn’t sure if he was asking for more or asking Peter to release
him.
“’Please’?” Peter bent down to nuzzle at Stiles’s ear. “Please, what?” He
nipped the outer curve, doing it again when Stiles didn’t respond as quickly as
he liked.
“Please, more,” Stiles groaned out. As much as he liked being eaten out,
eventually it ended up feeling like one big tease, driving him mad (in the best
way, though). He needed this to move along before he finished alone. Again.
There were two other hard cocks in the bed with him, there should be no reason
for him to not be filled with at least one of them.
Peter felt around for the lube, popping the cap open with his thumb. One of
Derek’s hands let go of its hold on Stiles’s ass and the teen’s mental groan of
relief turned into a physical one when, first one, then quickly two, slick
fingers were delving into him, stretching and searching.
Fuckingfinally, Stiles thought to himself, impatiently pushing back onto the
fingers, not really caring that Peter had let go of his hair and moved away
from him when, finally, some progress was being made towards Stiles’s goal of
being filled with something.
A soft groan sounded behind him and, curious, Stiles twisted his neck and upper
body enough to look and, god, was he happy to look. Helpful as always, Peter
had taken up the task of slicking up Derek’s cock for him, seeing as the
alpha’s hands were a little busy. Practically plastered to Derek’s back, Peter
pumped his hand up and down at a teasingly slow pace, whispering untold filth
into his nephew’s ear as he stared at where Derek’s fingers were prepping
Stiles’s hole, seeming to roll his hips against the alpha in time with the
thrusts into the teen.
Stiles couldn’t look away from the sight of them. He was pretty sure he was
drooling a bit, but between the live porn and the sensation of being filled,
Stiles didn’t really care.
When Derek withdrew his fingers, a thread of disappointment wove through
Stiles, but then the alpha was shifting forward on his knees, locking eyes with
Stiles as the thick crown of his cock nudged into the teen’s loosened hole and
pressed in in one long, slow slide—and Stiles just about forgot to breathe.
Ducking his head down to rest against the bed, Stiles struggled to relax, just
breathe and relax, as his insides tried to adapt after not quite being
stretched enough. A light sweat began to breakout over his skin. He could take
this. Peter had less than vanilla tastes in the bedroom and loved to press
Stiles’s limits, from time to time. Rough sex had happened.
He could handle this.
After what felt like minutes, Derek’s inward thrust stopped and Stiles lay
panting, not realizing that he was trembling until a large hand rubbed
soothingly over his spine.
“Are you ok?” Derek asked, concern edging into the soft, strained rumble.
Stiles let out a laugh that sounded half-hysterical to his own ears. He
couldn’t tell if the alpha was as on the edge of control as he sounded, but
Stiles trusted Peter to be able to rein in his nephew if things got out of
hand.
Oh god, he was trusting in Peter—a beta—to control an alpha.
Someone upstairs had better be on Stiles’s side.
“We’re good,” Stiles edged out, his breathing starting to even out as he got
used to the feel of Derek’s girth. He was just a little wider than Peter, if he
had to hazard a guess. Though they both were freight trains, regardless.
Apparently taking that as consent to continue, Derek carefully eased out as
slow as he’d gone in. Then shoved back in. Hard.
Jaw dropped in a silent scream, Stiles fisted the covers, feeling like he’d had
the breath knocked out of him as his insides stretched around the thick
intruder again.
“Easy,” Peter cautioned. “If you break him, then nobody gets to play with him.”
Well, at least personal gain was enough to make Peter worry about him. In a
way, Stiles was flattered.
Kind of.
He just hoped that possessiveness would be enough to make him really step in
should Derek’s control slip any worse.
Again, Derek slowly retreated, this time only an inch or so before rocking back
in, building a steady rhythm that gradually drew out the length of his thrusts,
giving Stiles more time to adapt to the pressure.
Bit by bit, pleasure tingled through Stiles, making him enjoy the primal ebb
and flow of the motions.
A subtle tilt of hips and a firm thrust had Stiles barking out a moan, his
prostate finally hit.
“That’s it,” Peter encouraged. “Again.”
Derek quickly obeyed. Stiles’s cock dripped freely now, eager at the prospect
of coming despite the earlier pain.
“Harder,” Peter directed his nephew. “Make him beg for it.”
Like a puppet under its master, Derek moved as Peter willed, grasping Stiles by
the hips and punishingly angling into him, each brush against the teen’s bundle
of nerves struggling to make Stiles forget any pain from the force Derek was
using.
Stiles danced on the edge, but the thrusts weren’t enough to push him over,
even though he tried to give himself over to sensation and let himself be
pulled over by it, but it still wasn’t enough. He needed more, needed to be
touched, and there was no way that Stiles could get his jelly-like arms out
from under his chest to wrap around himself.
“Please.”
“What was that?” Peter purred, sounding so amused that Stiles wanted to hit
him.
“Please touch me,” Stiles managed to choke out through a harsh thrust. God, he
didn’t know if he could take this much longer. He needed to come, felt like he
would burn up from the inside out without it.
“Touch you where?”
Derek’s thrusts became short and rabbit-fast, pounding into Stiles so hard that
the teen could hardly think, much less speak.
“M-my co-cock,” Stiles stuttered out, his words rough under the onslaught.
“Pleas-se t-ouch my c-cock.”
“Good boy.”
If a warm, tight grip hadn’t just closed around the base of his cock, giving it
one firm pump, Stiles might have thought that he’d come from the praise alone.
He jerked, his hips confused about whether to move forward into the hand around
him or back onto the cock fucking him, and he ended up convulsing in place,
groaning helplessly as he came all over the covers beneath him, finally thrown
over the edge into pure pleasure.
Derek’s thrusts grew rough and shorter, then all at once he was pressing tight
against Stiles’s ass, rolling his hips as though trying to bury himself just a
little deeper.
High as he was, Stiles didn’t immediately think anything of it when Derek
stilled, believing that the alpha was coming as well. Then pressure started to
build at Stiles’s hole, a sort of stretching sensation that was pulling the
abused skin taut.
Instinctively, Stiles moved to pull away from the uncomfortable feeling, but
was soon held in place not only by two pairs of hands but by the sensation
itself, like an anchor or a lock keeping Stiles’s hole from moving away.
And that’s when it really hit him.
It was a knot. A freaking knot. Derek had knottedhim.
Dual feelings of fear and want warred within him.
Now, Stiles was a kinky person. He had researched a lot of sex-related topics,
from vanilla positions to things that made you cock your head and squint in
disbelief. So, naturally, he’d come across things like bestiality and
specially-formed dildos and videos of people playing out animalistic scenarios.
And, naturally, since he was aware that things like werewolves existed, Stiles
had entertained fantasies of certain were-people with particular…attributes.
But no one had ever confirmed the idea that werewolves could knot and if Peter
had been able to, Stiles was positive the older man would have subjected him to
it by now, and so he’d let the fantasy lie as just a fantasy.
Only apparently it wasn’t justa fantasy at all.
And it was currently inside him.
Stiles shook, the haze of his orgasm dissipating as his mind desperately tried
to wrap around the reality of having a knot inside of him. The hands holding
him in place started to stroke gently over him. It would have been calming if
they didn’t reinforce the fact that his entrance was stretched almost the point
of pain. The cramping in his thighs wasn’t helping either after holding his ass
up in the air for so long. But the thing Stiles kept coming back to was that
his ass was literally stuck on Derek Hale’s dick.
A cut-off groan came from behind him and Stiles craned his neck back to see
what was going on, keeping his torso as still as he could so that he wouldn’t
accidentally twist and hurt himself.
Derek’s eyes were clamped shut, a look of bliss on his otherwise lax face.
He’s still coming, Stiles realized. He couldn’t really feel much outside of the
intense pressure against his walls, but he hazarded that some of that must be
because he was still being ‘filled up’.
“Just a minute or two longer,” Peter murmured, resting his chin on his nephew’s
shoulder. “The knot doesn’t last that long. You’re doing fine.”
“So…were we supposed to talk about this or did I black out and miss the
conversation?” Stiles said with a trace of sourness. He would have preferred to
know one of his partners’ dicks could blow up like a balloon animal. Sucking at
communication must run in the family or something.
“Didn’t want to ruin the mood.”
Stiles stared at him incredulously until Peter shrugged and shifted out from
behind Derek to lie beside the teen on the bed. His cock was still hard and
heavy from lack of attention.
“Besides,” he continued once he got comfortable, “you didn’t seem to mind.”
Stiles’s eyes went wide. Seriously? “’Didn’t seem to’—? I didn’t exactly have
time to get my vote in here,” he hissed.
“You don’t like it?”
The question came from behind Stiles, who craned his neck around just in time
to see the hurt in Derek’s eyes be replaced with a quiet guilt before the alpha
looked away.
“Nonono, I do like it,” Stiles said, hurrying to soothe the older man’s hurt
feelings, wondering at the same time what his heartbeat was giving away. “I
just, y’know…would have liked to be in on the whole program we’ve got goin’ on
here. I’m not very good with surprises.”
Not anymore, not after living in Beacon Hills for so long.
Hesitantly, Derek met his gaze, still guilt stricken. “I thought you knew.
You’ve been messing around with Peter long enough. I figured he would have said
something by now.”
There was a hint of sullenness in the comment about Stiles and Peter’s
relationship, but it was washed out by outright accusation when the alpha
turned his attention to Peter.
“Oh come on,” Peter huffed, sounding vaguely annoyed. “Like I was gonna get his
pervy little brain’s hopes up over something that Icouldn’t give him. What he
didn’t have to know, wouldn’t hurt him.”
“Ah, we live in Beacon Hills,” Stiles reminded him, settling back down. “What
we don’t know can kill us.”
Derek groaned. A backward glance assured Stiles that the alpha once again was
coming. Multiple orgasms and a dick that swelled up at the base? Stiles wasn’t
sure whether to feel sorry for or envious of him.
“You would have made me get you an “exotic” toy so you could see what it felt
like.” Peter sighed, as if put upon.
“I like the ‘toy’ you already have just fine, thank you,” Stiles muttered
absently, paying more attention to where he was tied to Derek. Was the swell of
the knot going down or was he just getting used to it?
“Really?”
The older man’s arm moved and Stiles followed the movement, licking his lips
when Peter grasped his own cock and started jacking himself. “Yeah, I like it…”
“Maybe you should remind me,” Peter purred suggestively. At the teen’s head
jerk of acceptance, he scooted over, placing his lap squarely in front of
Stiles with legs splayed on either side of him.
Stiles wedged himself up onto his elbows to accommodate him (careful to not
pull away from Derek too much), putting himself level with the slick head of
Peter’s cock. Eagerly pulling the thick length into his mouth, Stiles hummed
absently, enjoying the taste and weight of Peter.
Fellatio was something that Stiles was beginning to take pride in. Peter had
allowed him all the practice he wanted after Stiles had sent a text about
wanting to ‘improve his technique’. The upside for Stiles was that he got to
indulge his undiagnosed oral fixation. The upside for Peter was that he got a
lot of head. They hadn’t really found a downside yet.
“Jesus….”
Stiles’s move to check on Derek was stopped by Peter grasping his hair, keeping
him from pulling off. Heat surged through him and his own spent cock twitched,
taking interest at the rough treatment. Hair-pulling had turned into something
of a thing for Stiles while ‘practicing’ and Peter had been quick to pick up on
it.
“Beautiful, isn’t he?” Peter smirked. “It’s one of the few things that can keep
him quiet.”
“Why do I get the feeling he doesn’t talk much when you two are together?”
Derek murmured, his breath ghosting over Stiles’s neck and shoulders as he bent
over to watch, supporting himself with one hand on the bed while keeping the
other tight around the teen’s hip.
“I’d say it’s about half and half.” Peter’s grip tightened as he took control
of Stiles’s movements, guiding him up and down a little slower, holding him
down around the base a little longer.
Stiles took it in stride, like he did with most of Peter’s whims. Though, at
the moment, he was feeling rather…rebellious.
At the end of a downward slide, Stiles took as much of Peter into his relaxed
throat—and started swallowing around him.
It had the desired effect. Peter choked off a curse, his hips bucking up
slightly into the suction. Stiles had only recently gotten the hang of deep-
throating, but every time he’d managed it, it hadn’t taken long before Peter
lost it.
This time was no different, especially after waiting so long to come. A few
more aborted thrusts and the older man was spilling down Stiles’s throat, the
teen being careful to lick away any stray drops.
Releasing the spent cock, Stiles smirked up at Peter. “I know how to shut you
up, too.”
Peter just laughed.
The pressure at Stiles’s entrance had shrank enough that, with a gentle tug,
Derek’s cock finally slid free, soon followed by more come than Peter had ever
shot into him.
Stiles winced, both from the mess he was making of Derek’s bed and the soreness
in his ass. God, he’d never felt this empty before. Driving home was going to
be torture. So would be sitting in class. Lydia was never going to let him live
this down.
Tired (and ignoring the half-hearted boner he was now sporting), Stiles
submitted to Derek’s manhandling, letting the alpha lower him gently onto his
back, thankfully avoiding both wet patches of come. Derek settled down on his
side so that, once again, Stiles was bracketed by the two older men in the bed.
This time, Stiles didn’t feel out of place.
It felt…nice.
“So…?” Peter drew out, looking at Stiles expectantly. “What do you think?”
“I’m supposed to be thinking right now?” Stiles sassed, feeling the beginnings
of a nap pulling at him, making him drowsier with each second. “Pretty sure I
just had my brain fucked out of me. You’ll have to wait until it comes back.”
“About this,” Peter continued, as though Stiles hadn’t said anything. He did
that a lot. “About…adding another element to our play.”
Oh, that.
Honestly, Stiles was kind of surprised that he was being asked at all,
considering how often Peter just went ahead and did as he pleased. Maybe later,
when his brain wasn’t swimming in sex endorphins, he would have a minor freak-
out about the ‘closeness’ in the remnants of the Hale family, but right now all
he could think of was how hot it had been when Peter had jacked Derek’s cock.
“I’m okay with it,” he said, noticing how Derek relaxed minutely beside him at
the acceptance, like he had been worried Stiles was going to put his foot down
and say no to whatever this was. Stiles couldn’t have kicked a puppy any more
than he could have sent Derek away.
But it wasn’t a pity thing. Derek had been accepted on merit.
And by merit, he meant how well the alpha could work a guy into the sheets.
“But next time, we’re setting up a video camera,” Stiles threw out while he
still had the nerve, unsurprised when the idea drew two less-than-enthusiastic
groans.
He wanted to cross off another thing off his kink list and now he had something
reallycamera-worthy.
 
End Notes
     Alright guys, comments and criticisms welcome. Tumblr handle is
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