
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/773914.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Other, Multi
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Scott_McCall/Jackson_Whittemore, Derek_Hale/Scott_McCall/Jackson
      Whittemore, Derek_Hale/Jackson_Whittemore, Vernon_Boyd/Erica_Reyes, Isaac
      Lahey/Jackson_Whittemore
  Character:
      Jackson_Whittemore, Scott_McCall_(Teen_Wolf), Derek_Hale, Isaac_Lahey
  Additional Tags:
      Threesome_-_M/M/M, Possessive_Behavior, Whump, Wolf_Pack, Pack_Dynamics,
      Season/Series_02_Spoilers, Smut, Porn_With_Plot, Claiming, Marking, Hurt/
      Comfort, Polyamory, Full_Moon
  Series:
      Part 7 of Blood_Red_and_Cyan-Eyed
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-04-25 Words: 4214
****** Compromise ******
by Ebyru
Summary
     Jackson stumbles upon Derek during the full moon. Derek doesn’t trust
     Jackson, but Scott won’t let Derek harm him. Scott makes a deal with
     Derek.
     "It feels so nice to have Jackson’s body snug against his own,
     breathing in that foreign scent of his that makes Scott’s mouth
     water. His nerves tingle where his fingertips trace patterns on bare
     skin. Jackson isn’t healing fast enough to let go. Jackson’s head
     lolls on his shoulder, and Scott doesn’t hesitate to kiss the side of
     his neck. He smells like honey today."
Notes
     sorry, this un-beta'd again. AND VERY LATE. ;-; School got in the
     way.
     if you see any terrible mistakes, please let me know. If you'd like
     to be my beta, that would be great also.
     and thank you so much to anyone who reads this, or who was patient
     enough to wait for the next part.
See the end of the work for more notes
Jackson wakes from a trance for the third time today. It’s been happening more
often. It’s as though his brain’s being switched on and off, and there’s no way
this can continue. No one could live this way. He has to break out of this,
regain the missing memories (even if they’re unpleasant, and they probably will
be), and get away from his master – whoever he is. Then, maybe after all that,
he can start to repent.

Redemption is a long, lonely road, but Jackson would rather face the facts than
be blind and exhausted for the rest of his miserable life.

Since he hasn’t heard from Scott or Stiles lately, he assumes they haven’t had
any luck with finding a way to fix the situation yet. It’s all up to him now,
isn’t it? Luckily, he’s lucid enough today to figure out where he can find
help. He just hopes that person is willing to give him some.

It’s not like they’ve ever gotten along.

But maybe if he can swear his loyalty to Derek, offer up whatever clues about
his master that he can recall…Maybe then Derek will want to help him break
free.

---

Jackson sways when he steps out of his car. There’s a low hum in the pit of his
stomach that tugs him towards Derek without his conscious effort. Whatever has
happened to him, there’s still a part that responds to the strongest of the
pack: the Alpha.

Stumbling around is not usually Jackson’s thing, but the strain that’s being
put on his body is worse lately; he barely sleeps during the night. He’s aware
of that without having to know where he went and who sent him there.

There’s just a few steps left before Jackson can reach the entrance to the old
subway station, but he stumbles again. There’s nothing around for him to grab
on to, so he falls against the ground, knees both a mess of dirt and grass.
Derek is out of the hole in the ground before Jackson can get back on his feet.

“Get out of here, Jackson,” Derek spits, dragging Jackson up by the collar and
pushing him back. Jackson trips over dirt and catches his footing at the last
second.

“I- I need your help. Please,” he begs, swaying on his feet like an alcoholic.

Derek stalks up to Jackson, breathing hot air across Jackson’s cheekbones. “The
real you wouldn’t even consider coming here. You’re being sent here. And I
don’t like that. Get away before I hurt you, Jackson.”

On a good day, Derek wouldn’t want to help Jackson. He’s whiny and persistent,
and sure he works hard, but it’s always for a gain that can only satisfy
himself. Derek has never been a selfish teenager, because he’s never had the
opportunity to be. There was always someone else to look after. Some task that
took precedence over his happiness. Just like tonight: his pack are preparing
for the full moon.

And isn’t it just convenient that Jackson’s here too.

Jackson swallows with a click, eyes downcast. “I asked Stiles and Scott first,
but they haven’t been able to help me.” He looks up into Derek’s eyes, holding
his gaze. “Please. You helped make me into this.”

“You wanted this. Remember that? You begged for it, threatened, even tried to
trick me into biting you. You – wanted – this.” Derek pushes Jackson away, and
not kindly. “The outside just matches the inside now.”

Jackson lands on his knees again, shuffling forward to grasp at Derek’s jeans.
“Please, Derek. I have nowhere else to go. You can’t just leave me like this.
I’ll help you kill my master. Anything!”

Derek snarls, grabbing Jackson by the shirt sleeve. Without glancing down at
the sobbing mess below, Derek drags him towards his car, and drops him there.
“Go, now.”

Jackson moves toward Derek, and Derek doesn’t hesitate to slam his knuckles
against the flesh of his cheek. His teeth take most of the impact. Jackson
reels back, but refuses to leave. Derek hits him again; his eye this time. The
pleading doesn’t end, though, so Derek drives his fist into Jackson’s face
again. And then again. Until his claws extend on their own, and Derek comes
back with a palm full of blood. Jackson still clings to Derek’s legs. Derek
cracks his knuckles.

But what Derek doesn’t know is that there’s no chance Jackson will give up. His
mind is set on becoming the Alpha’s bitch, if he must, just to get away from
his master. And if Derek kills him, well --

---
Last night, Derek had asked Scott to come to the train station. He had said he
needed an extra hand in case the Betas were more than Derek could handle.

Scott rode his bike all the way here, and he wishes he hadn’t now. The sight
he’s greeted with is, frankly, disturbing. Jackson is more or less lying on the
ground, clutching at his ribs, covering one eye where claw marks peek
underneath his hand, and begging for his life.

Derek’s arm is reeling back, and Scott knows what will happen if he doesn’t
stop the Alpha.

Kicking up grass and dirt, Scott is by Jackson’s crumpled form in seconds. And,
fortunately, Derek’s reflexes are fast enough that his fist doesn’t break
Scott’s jaw. The lessened impact still hurts, though. Scott rubs at his jaw
idly with his arm outstretched to keep Derek from further damaging Jackson.

An Alpha is the only one who can prevent Betas from healing as quickly, and
Jackson will probably die if Derek goes on.

Derek is not impressed. “Why did you--”

“I’ll join the pack,” Scott blurts.

Derek’s eyes go wide, then narrow to red slits. “You’ll join?”

Scott nods fervently, reaching behind himself to wrap his fingers around
Jackson’s wrist. His pulse is very slow. “And I’ll bring Allison and Stiles
with me.”

“There’s a catch, I’m guessing,” remarks Derek dryly, crossing his arms. He
takes a few steps back, so Scott can stand up.

Scott’s gaze is defiant, and his voice doesn’t falter when he says, “You have
to let Jackson live.”

Derek sighs, looking away. His jaw twitches. “You know what he--”

“I know. But I promised him I would find his master and get him free, Derek. I
am going to do that.”

He turns to look down at Jackson. One eye is beginning to swell, but Scott can
see the other one shining with an innocent blue that makes Scott want to carry
him off somewhere far, where he’d never be hurt like this again. Jackson
reaches out a shaking hand to touch Scott’s ankle. There’s almost a smile on
his face.

Derek grumbles, pushing his finger in Scott’s face when he turns to face him.
“You better do it soon or I will kill him next time.” He walks away, not
looking back to add, “I’ll be with the Betas.”

---

There’s nowhere they can go right now since Scott doesn’t want to move Jackson
too far away with all of his injuries. Pressing his back to Jackson’s car,
Scott spreads his legs and pulls Jackson in between them. Back to chest, he
checks Jackson’s scratches and bruises – avoiding the rib he knows is probably
cracked.

Wincing, Jackson lets his head fall back on Scott’s shoulder. His eyes open
slowly when Scott’s fingers trail down Jackson’s arm, gently tracing the veins
in his wrist. It feels oddly…intimate.

“Thank you,” Jackson says after too long of a silence. Scott hums in
acknowledgment, drawing Jackson in closer, twining his fingers with Jackson’s.
There’s a content sigh that neither of them can pinpoint the source of. They
drift in and out of a doze where Jackson whimpers and Scott presses his lips to
his shoulder to calm him down.

This isn’t exactly the kind of full moon Scott is used to; somehow, Jackson’s
presence is keeping him from becoming a hungry predator.

Too bad the same can’t be said for the Betas down in the station.

From where Jackson and Scott sit, nuzzled together, they can hear the Betas
howling and ignoring Derek’s commands. The growling gets louder, more
ferocious, and alarmingly clear. They’re very close to escaping.

Scott knows he should help, since he promised to, but that was before. Before
Jackson was clinging to him desperately. Before Derek decided he was going to
erase the ‘abomination’. Before Scott had his arms wrapped around a strong body
that turned so pliant against him. He can’t leave Jackson now.

It feels so nice to have Jackson’s body snug against his own, breathing in that
foreign scent of his that makes Scott’s mouth water. His nerves tingle where
his fingertips trace patterns on bare skin. Jackson isn’t healing fast enough
to let go. Jackson’s head lolls on his shoulder, and Scott doesn’t hesitate to
kiss the side of his neck. He smells like honey today.

The sound of a body rolling down the stairs wakes Scott from his pleasant
thoughts. He bends a knee in case he has to jump up, and run after a Beta –
they might have pushed Derek down the stairs. Jackson watches Scott’s eyes
flicker between colours; he tenses.

Someone does appear, but his eyes are his natural blue when he jogs over to the
car.

Isaac’s turning Jackson’s face left and right; Scott presses his face into
Jackson’s neck, humming to keep him calm.

“I could smell Jackson from downstairs,” Isaac starts saying, his voice a
soothing flow of sounds. “I got worried when I noticed something was off with
his scent. Derek wouldn’t let me go.” He scoffs. “He thought I wanted to run
away and kill someone.”

Scott nods, stroking each of Jackson’s knuckles. He stops abruptly; his eyes go
wide. “Did you push Derek down the stairs?”

“No, that was an accident. He was pulling at my shirt and I yanked away.” Isaac
laughs, sliding his thumb along Jackson’s black and blue jawline. “I see he
deserved it anyway.”

Scott buries his face in the nape of Jackson’s neck, sniffing to see if his
body is doing any better. Jackson whimpers when Isaac presses too hard, but his
gaze is soft when he looks up. “You came to check up on me?”

Isaac tilts his head, crouching down at eye level. “I did.” He smiles.

Jackson nods. “Are you staying out here with us?”

“No, I should probably go help Derek with the Betas.”

Scott looks up as Isaac stands. “Sorry, that was supposed to be my job.”

“Well, now you have this one.” Isaac ruffles Jackson’s hair, laughing when
Jackson glares with one eye. The other is still too swollen to do much in the
intimidation department.

“See you later,” Isaac calls as he goes back down into the station.

Jackson squirms a bit when Scott squeezes too tightly around him, but settles
when Scott’s teeth drag in a playful manner against his pulse. “I’m not dying,
you know. You don’t have to hold on to me like I’m going to bleed out.”

“I know.” Scott presses his palms flat to Jackson’s chest, careful to go around
the broken rib.

---

Derek allows himself a break, and goes back out to where Scott is wrapped
around Jackson protectively. And …Jackson doesn’t seem to be healing. Alpha
powers, he forgot.

Walking toward them in the least aggressive manner he can – which still makes
Scott tighten his hold on Jackson – Derek offers Jackson a hand. “You can come
inside. There’s a free room, away from the Betas.”

Scott bares his teeth briefly, but Jackson takes Derek’s hand with a curt nod.
“I appreciate it,” he says.

Helping Jackson stand with a hand on the small of his back, Scott says, “You
better not hurt him again after the deal we made.”

“I don’t go back on my word,” Derek says, his brows a thick line of
disapproval. He looks Jackson up and down once. Scott glares at Derek, wrapping
an arm around Jackson’s waist. “Follow me,” Derek says after scoffing.”

---

They’re in a back room that looks almost decent in comparison to the rest of
the broken, old station. It has a sofa, a floor rug and a table with barely any
scraps on the surface; they’re probably all things that Derek found or bought
from a used store.

Scott watches closely as Derek leaves the room to return to the Betas, and he
breathes a sigh of relief. Jackson chuckles, holding his more injured side when
it twinges in pain. “Don’t act like a mother hen,” he says, “It’s going to kill
me with laughter, McCall.”

Ignoring the comment, Scott walks Jackson over to the couch and settles against
a cushion on one end, stretching out his legs in invitation. “This works,
right?” he says. “You seemed to be comfortable outside.”

“Are you serious?” Jackson asks, hobbling closer anyway.

Scott smiles widely, teeth a brilliant flash of white. “Come here so I can take
care of you.”

Jackson slowly bends down, sitting on the edge of the couch; Scott forces him
back between his legs, both of their legs tangled and stretched across the
cushions. Scott buries his face in Jackson’s neck, nibbling despite Jackson’s
attempts at pulling away. They both know it’s just an act.

“This is embarrassing,” Jackson says, tilting his head to the side as Scott
drags his bottom teeth across his shoulder. “Who would have thought I’d be
saved by Scott McCall.”

Licking a wet stripe up Jackson’s neck, Scott presses his fingers into
Jackson’s wrists, holding him firmly in place. Their knees bump when Jackson
tries to shift away again. “I’m not going to let Derek hurt you again,”
whispers Scott. “I won’t leave until you’re feeling better either.”

Jackson tenses for a moment when Scott kisses his throat near an open wound,
but hums when he realizes how much better it feels. “Do that…do that again,” he
murmurs, closing his eyes.

Scott laps his tongue over the blood, watching the ebb of it. The skin seems to
be reattaching in slow pulses; fluctuations like the flutter of Jackson’s
lashes when Scott nips his earlobe. Jackson hums, pressing his back against
Scott’s chest, his nails searching for something to hold on to.

“Feeling better?” Scott asks. He takes Jacksons hand in his, twining their
fingers. Jackson squeezes tighter every time Scott’s tongue leaves a sheen
across bruised and broken skin. He mirrors Jackson’s mood, closing his eyes to
savour the scent of Jackson as he recuperates and writhes in Scott’s lap.

“Thank you,” Jackson says suddenly, his lashes lowered almost shyly.

Scott’s eyes snap open. “It- it was – you’re welcome.”

Jackson grins, tilting his head back for more cleansing. “You can continue,” he
teases.

Pressing his chest closer, Scott nods, and turns Jackson’s face towards him. “I
will,” he says, pulling Jackson’s lips into his mouth, erasing dried blood with
each swipe of his tongue. “And you’re not going anywhere.” His fangs peek out
slowly, called forth by the smell and taste of what’s inside Jackson.

He lets one of Jackson’s hands go to hold his neck in place, keep his mouth
right where he wants it; the hole from before is nothing but a scratch now. The
more they bond, the smaller the wounds get. Scott keeps petting and kissing
him, touching him around each scar Derek left behind.

The ones on his ribs sting at times, so Jackson hisses, teeth digging in to
Scott’s tongue in between lazy kisses. Scott winces in sympathy, circling his
finger around skin and muscle more carefully, sucking on Jackson’s tongue to
distract him.

They could do this all night, they realize.

---

Derek is cautious, quiet, when he returns to the back room. They don’t even
notice him, though. Scott’s thighs box Jackson in as they kiss slowly, in sync
beyond what Derek’s ever seen. Without words, Scott knows when Jackson’s turned
his head for Scott to leave bites on his jaw and chin. Without more than a
clench of fingers, or stroking of thumbs, Scott parts his lips and Jackson’s
tongue slips inside easily.

He realizes how wrong he’d been about Whittemore. If Matt was controlling him
now, it would be the perfect moment to destroy Scott, but – but Jackson looks
like the one at Scott’s mercy when he whimpers. Scott presses open-mouthed
kisses on both shoulders, one hand hidden underneath his sweater. Derek watches
with rapt attention, with longing, and even regret.

Jackson could be pack, too. He wants to be.

There’s a way to approach this situation, and Derek now knows what it is. He
strips off his shirt, watches them both as they untangle, gawking at Derek like
they can’t decide whether fleeing or staying is the better decision. Derek
reaches for his belt, slips it out with one pull, and lets it fall to the
ground.

Metal muffled by the warm rug.

He closes his eyes and breathes in Scott’s arousal; it’s so strong he gets
dizzy for a moment. The couch creaks when they shuffle around, and Derek opens
his eyes to see them both shifted aside to make room for him. His pants pool
around his feet, and he gasps when the assaulting odour of Jackson’s
‘abomination’ creeps in between his lips and settles in the back of his throat.
No wonder Scott won’t let go.

Settling his weight on the couch is a struggle because, this close, with these
many pheromones swimming through the air, all Derek wants is to mount them both
and claim them as his pack. But there’s something he needs to do first.

Jackson flinches away when Derek comes closer, so Derek glances at Scott behind
him, raises an eyebrow, and waits. Scott pats Jackson’s chest, pushing him
forward slowly; Derek and Scott both remove his sweater and shirt, dropping
them on the floor.

Dipping his head, his gaze fixed on Jackson, Derek’s tongue darts out and
traces the gash across his ribs, right below his right nipple. Right where his
heart is pounding a foreign beat. Scott distracts him by murmuring in Jackson’s
ear, nuzzling the back of his neck affectionately. Derek takes Jackson’s nipple
in between his teeth, gnawing on it gently until it pebbles and screams for his
attention. Jackson’s legs spread around Derek unconsciously, his throat bared
for Scott’s ministration; he’s finally relaxed again. So he licks Jackson’s
wounds, and they start to heal even faster because he’s the one who inflicted
them.

Scott’s hands move like lightning to Jackson’s pants; he’s so happy for this
development, so glad his Alpha has accepted Jackson that he slides off the
couch to let Derek take charge. He sits comfortably on the carpet next to the
couch.

There’s a slight whimper, a tiny squeak of protest when Derek drags Jackson’s
pants all the way down. But it quickly turns into a hum of acceptance when
Derek gets his hands on heated skin.

“Do you want to be part of our pack,” Derek whispers, drawing faint red lines
with half-changed claws across pale, spread thighs. “I want you to be aware
this time of what you want.” He places a kiss in the crease of thigh and
pelvis, watching as the bulge in Jackson’s pants twitches. “If you say yes, I
will kill your master. I’ll be your new one.”

Jackson takes a deep breath when Derek cups his erection, and he nods. He
sounds feverish, wild when he says, “This is what I’ve been waiting for.”

Scott crawls behind Derek, nuzzling and kissing his neck, fingers delicate as
they splay across his back. He purrs like a kitten, repeating softly Thank you,
Derek, thank you. Humming in reply, Derek allows himself a rare smile at
Scott’s easy forgiveness.

Prying Jackson’s legs further apart, Derek sucks him into his mouth,
luxuriating in the scent and feel of him when he isn’t fighting back or trying
to cut with words. Scott joins in, kissing lazily up and down Jackson’s torso
as he kneels on the floor along the side of the couch.

Abomination or not, Derek has always liked how Jackson looks. Especially now
that he has one hand tangled in Scott’s hair and the other gently scraping at
Derek’s scalp, back arching off the couch. Derek teases with a hint of teeth
right under the swollen head, and Jackson shouts Fuck up at the ceiling, like
he wants Heaven to know how good it feels.

When Jackson’s spreading wider, his thighs trembling along to Derek’s eager
pace, Derek pulls off his cock with a sloppy sound. Scott traces the shiny
trail of saliva covering Jackson’s lips while looking into Derek’s eyes; he
grins when he sees Derek moving back against the couch.

“Hold him still,” Derek tells Scott, dragging Jackson’s hips closer and upward.
“I don’t want him to hurt himself while he’s still healing.” He sucks on a
finger, sliding it up and down the crease, smirking when Jackson gasps like the
air’s been punched out of him.

Scott cradles Jackson’s head with one arm, stroking through his now less-than-
perfect hair with the other hand. As one finger eases into Jackson, Scott tells
him he’s safe now, that he’ll be free soon; Jackson writhes and moans, biting
Scott’s bottom lip when he tries to kiss him.

Another finger pushes in, slow and careful, and Jackson wraps his thighs around
Derek’s lower back, turning to face Scott. “Let me suck you, please. I can’t
take this,” he says, a whine underlying every word. He heaves in a breath when
a third finger breaches him. “Please,” he says, brows creasing.

Then Derek is rumbling with anticipating, pushing the head of his cock through
the tight squeeze of Jackson’s body. Jackson claws desperately at Scott’s
clothes, eyes rolling to the back of his head when Derek inches in further,
lifting his hips. “Fuck,” they both say, and Scott rushes to get his own
clothes off.

When his cock springs free, Scott places it to Jackson’s lips, mesmerized by
the pre-come coating the pink flesh. “Go slow,” he says, “you’re still weak.”

Jackson nods, but he swallows Scott up to the base; he sounds rabid every time
he gags, or Derek thrusts into him and brushes his prostate. Derek closes his
eyes while he fucks Jackson; his balls slap against the loose entrance, leaving
marks behind that are undeniably that of pack.

Scott, on the other hand, is gentle; he doesn’t let Jackson suck him like he’s
craving to. He controls the pace, although feeling less and less inclined to
slow down.  He eases him off when Derek thrusts in just a bit harder, forcing
Jackson to take in a lungful of air. But Jackson cries for more each time his
mouth is free.

When Jackson chokes on Scott’s cock, his breathing a broken mess of whimpers
and words, Derek lessens his pace to drag out the last moments of pleasure. He
rolls his hips in sensual circles, driving in slow, and Scott can’t help but
reach over and cup his ass to feel the muscles clench with each push inside.

Derek goes so slowly that Jackson is begging to be filled again; Scott pushes
himself inside the willing mouth, groaning when Jackson’s teeth prickle and
graze purposely over the sensitive gland. Somehow, Jackson meets every roll of
Derek’s hips with a rougher one of his own, until Derek is growling out, “If
this is what you want, then fine.”

There’s thrusting, and there’s what Derek is doing – which is impaling Jackson
on his cock, lifting his hips off the couch to hit his prostate on every rough
thrust. Scott is pushed away when he tries to wraps his hand around Jackson’s
cock; Derek spits in his hand and does that, too. Just as rough and brutal as
his fucking. Jackson’s mouth finds Scott’s cock, forcing it down his throat,
mimicking Derek’s relentless pace.

One tentative touch to Scott’s balls, and he’s spilling down Jackson’s throat,
watching the muscles work around the load flowing down. One more possessive
thrust and Derek pulls out, coming on Jackson’s stomach, marking him as part of
his pack. Then, as Jackson pants, eyes watery with pleasure, Scott and Derek
stroke and pull at his cock, sometimes easing in a finger to rub against his
prostate; he screams so loud the Betas howl in the next room.

Derek tucks himself back into his jeans, smiling as Jackson closes his eyes and
drifts into sleep on the couch. He’s still a mess, but he knows Scott is more
than willing to clean that up. Patting Scott on the shoulder, he says, “Make
sure he gets enough rest. I need to get back to the Betas.”

“I will,” he says. But he drags Derek in close, stealing a kiss before his
Alpha can escape. “Thank you.”

There’s nothing Derek can say that would compare to the gratitude plainly
written on Scott’s features. He winks instead.

---

From the other room, Isaac smiles as he hears the claiming happening. Erica and
Boyd are too consumed by the sounds and smells to escape into the forest for a
hunt; they fall asleep wrapped in each other’s warmth, letting Isaac crawl
between them once they’re settled in. Derek joins them not much later.
End Notes
     comments appreciated. :)
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