knottinghill | stiles + scott + derek

Stiles.

[ scott totally told stiles. he hadn't intended to, and he'd avoided it for several days, but lying to stiles was kind of like trying to fake a lie detector. his best friend couldn't hear his heartbeat, but he still knew all the tells; one, two, three times scott got weird at the mention of derek, avoided speaking about him, readily agreed to meet with him on his own just so stiles wouldn't be around to witness the awkward reality.

he'd told stiles, and stiles had flipped. scott wasn't completely sure what about: the sex or the witches. being out of the loop was something stiles never liked, and he'd been severely out of this one.

the best scott could do outside of forcefully restraining stiles was to tag along desperately, try to tell him to back off, but the end result was both of them standing outside of derek's door. the threat of stiles knocking feels a bit like a gun to his head, but scott knows derek's probably already heard them; knocking's irrelevant. still, it's worth a try. ]

Seriously, it's not a big deal. We took care of it.

Edited 2013-07-10 11:04 (UTC)

Ye-heah! With sex.

[ deep, deep sarcasm. stiles gives him some serious side-eye: he obviously doesn't consider the problem taken care of. he's not sure what's more annoying: the witches thing, the homosexual experimentation thing, the lying. his own frustrated lack of — anything. ]

And how long until it happens again?

[ stiles pounds on derek's door, and then rounds back on scott. ]

Is he in there?

[ because it's dumb to stand around knocking. since derek either heard and isn't planning to answer, or isn't home at all. he's giving scott an intense look that says clearly that he's not gonna be happy if scott tries to bullshit him about this, too. ]

[ scott moves towards stiles, just slightly, half tempted to grab him and drag him bodily away from the door. but it's too late, and then stiles rounds on him anyway and confronts him with the question.

derek's in there. he's ignoring them, but he's there; scent, hearing, a presence that's slightly difficult to ignore.

scott gives stiles a look that's trying its best to look angry, but it comes off as more quietly distressed. there are a few heavy seconds where he weighs it, tries to decide if stiles is really pushing this, then- ]

Derek. He knows.

[ not quite a yell, more than loud enough to carry through the closed door, and utterly resigned. that's probably more to the point than knocking. ]

[ the plan, once he'd realized scott and stiles had come knocking on his door, was to keep it shut and wait for them to lose interest. stiles could be stubborn, but he also couldn't sit still all that long. derek knew that for a fact, remembered driving around in circles for hours and hours because stiles just couldn't sit in one spot and wait. and scott would encourage him, because scott hadn't been in the room with derek and stiles since it had--

well, derek just skips right over identifying the it in question, and that's good enough for him.

but then scott says what he says and derek yanks the heavy door open so fast the weight of it nearly dislocates something. his expression could not be more pissed if he tried, true facts. ]

Knows what?

[ as if derek wasn't listening to that whole thing, lbr ]

That you got smacked with the jujus and would rather repress all memory of actual human contact than come talk to someone who could work out what happened.

[ stiles says, with matter-of-fact disparagement, overriding anything scott has to say about it. he tries to tell himself he isn't scared of derek anymore, but the truth is these days he's almost more scared of derek, having seen what he's actually capable of. he's just better at ignoring the fear, even if it's there in the pounding of his heart. ]

Can we come in, or are you gonna make me talk about your gay sex in the hallway. Because I will go there, buddy. I will go there.

Edited (double word usage) 2013-07-13 09:28 (UTC)

[ there's nothing he can do to save this. scott's resigned, and he doesn't even attempt to defend himself when derek levels the question at him, even if he looks for one brief second like he wants to interrupt stiles. but interrupting stiles is kind of like throwing yourself in front of a bus, meaning he doesn't, and stiles keeps talking, and- ]

Please let us in.

[ stiles is completely forgotten; his eyes are on derek, and the request is forced, very carefully diplomatic. mildly desperate. he knows that isn't a hollow threat, and there's just the tiniest chance that if they just accept that this conversation is happening and try to turn it towards the witches instead of the - other thing - they'll get out of this with some self-respect intact. ]

[ there is a split second where all derek thinks of is slamming the door closed in their faces and retreating. that's probably obvious just from looking at him, even without seeing the way his muscles tense, ready to drag the door closed.

but he looks from scott to stiles, then back to scott, reading the expressions on their faces. derek didn't realize when he tripped over them on his property that this was looming in his future. the look on his face turns resigned, and he drags the door open a little further, jabs a finger towards the table by the window, like they're going to plan an assault rather than consider that one thing that derek and scott have been ignoring. ]

Sit.

[ not that he really expects that particular order to be followed, but he tries anyway. the story of derek's life, lbr. ]

Stay.

[ stiles whispers to scott. ]

Good boy.

[ but despite the sass at derek's monosyllabic commands, he does actually head on over, though he doesn't sit, stands and drums his fingers on the tabletop instead. ]

Sex bombs with pink smoke.

[ he murmurs, half to himself, in the tone of holy shit everyone i know is a moron and why do i live in this town, shaking his head. ]

The virgin-sacrificing witches have magical aphrodisiacs and you didn't tell anyone.

[ "anyone" being him, stiles. ]

[ scott shoots stiles a not now look, but it's still just this side of too desperate to hit the mark. scott doesn't sit either. he considers it, mostly because he has no idea what to do and derek said to sit, so why not, but - instead he goes with standing at the end of the table. the end which is pointedly not on the same side as stiles or derek.

he glances towards stiles at the last remark, and this time he does look legitimately defensive. ]

He didn't know.

[ a beat, attention shifting to derek and expression becoming only slightly doubtful. ]

Did you know?

[ for his part, derek goes to stand at the window like he's considering jumping out of it. old habits and discussions he really doesn't want to have go a long way towards making the drop seem much more inviting than most give it credit for. ]

I didn't know.

[ it's snapped, because being pissed is a better tact than being mortified. ]

Keep the jokes to yourself.

[ derek doesn't follow those sorts of statements up with threats anymore, but his expression implies all the pain in the world without the use of words. ]

[ stiles isn't really good at keeping the jokes to himself, but he can abate, for now. magic is serious business, even if he kind of wants something to break the tension in the room between scott and derek. it's possible he didn't really think this through. that said, even getting a read on the atmosphere doesn't back stiles down. sex is sex, and they'll just have to grow up and deal with the fact that it happened. ]

I'm pretty sure you both knew after they gassed you.

[ he gives them the Meaningful Eyebrows. like, he's so pissed that he's only learning about this now, because it changes everything about what they thought the witches' motivations were. ]

Okay, so I think they're harvesting energy in Beacon Hills for this ritual — I read about it back when we first encountered them doing the threefold bullcrap, buuuuut didn't think it was — anyway, it's been a while, but if I'm remembering correctly the idea is that it needs to be done with the waning of the moon. So maybe they're targeting werewolves because they're connected to the moon cycles too, somehow?

[ he plants his hands on the table, looking across it at derek. ]

Did you guys—

[ oops his voice breaks a little. ]

Change?

No.

[ it's the first real argument scott's managed to muster some intensity for, and it's probably way too defensive. because - wow, sex while wolfed out, how about never. and, admittedly, something scott very nearly did. ]

We were totally human.

[ derek was, anyway. scott almost slipped, but he's guessing that was more a symptom than an endgame, and the fact that derek kept it together while he almost didn't somehow makes the situation even more embarrassing. he's looking at derek while he says the second part, and it's a not-so-subtle hint to back scott's lie. ]

[ scott's face is full of expectation. derek raises his eyebrows, but he doesn't ignore it. whether that's as a favor to scott or just to avoid the inevitable bestiality jokes that stiles has to have waiting in the wings is anyone's guess. ]

No one was shifted.

[ derek's tone is firm, the kind that ends a discussion. stiles will ignore it, but derek can hope. ]

I wasn't shifted in the first place.

[ not that derek shifted much, outside of specific moments, when he needed to get his fangs out to make a show of it. ]

[ he'd wanted derek to answer, but scott gets all adamant about it. it's actually hard not to laugh at them both, but he thinks that would probably result in a swift death, focuses on how annoyed he is instead. ]

Okay. No shifting.

[ he winces at his next question before he even says it. ]

Was there, did you guys.

[ no. okay. he has to know these things and there is no reason to be awkward. ]

Was there penetration?

[ oh my god he should have just asked scott all of this before derek was present, he wants to die. maybe he'll let himself laugh about it after all, so that derek eviscerates him. ]

[ was there penetration. the question about shifting - embarrassing, but scott could at least muster a response. this is mortifying. and mortified is exactly how Scott looks, jaw dropping in disbelief.

but that's not an answer, and derek isn't exactly quick with the appropriately violent denials either. they're interrupted before they get the chance.

there's a sudden crack, the rushing shatter of glass, then-

pink smoke.

scott doesn't really need to mull over a response to that. fucking cheese it, that's the appropriate response. but he can't see, can't smell; it's the same heavy disorientation, hitting fast. panic is the first response: a thin shred of hope is the second. maybe it doesn't work on humans. ]

Stiles! Get out!

[ the only reason derek doesn't legitimately bite stiles head off for the question is because he hears something. in about two seconds it becomes painfully obvious what he did hear, because there's abruptly smoke and he doesn't have time to yell at stiles for asking that particular question. instead he literally just--

and this time they broke his window. when he sobers up he's going to remember to be irritated about that. ]

Both of you get--

[ there's an angle they're working. there's a point they're making, ripping derek's control out of their hands. or that's the faint, desperate thought derek has as he literally shoves stiles as hard as he can away from him. scott should already be moving. scott's supposed to know better, and derek can just--

deal with this. wait till it wears off. something. who knows, so long as he's here and too distracted and clumsy to get around. ]

[ stiles' stupid, stupid, stupid first reaction after the initial flinch away from breaking glass is to be like, oh, okay. pink smoke. and he takes in a heavy lungful to taste it on his tongue, like a sommelier. ]

[ there's definitely a herbal component. something sparking, vibrant, too: maybe that's the magic. stiles smacks his lips and — ]

Aw, crap.

[ shit. derek pushes him and he goes, remembers to panic, lets his feet trip him away even though it's wrenching at him to do so. he has to leave. he has to leave before— no, wow, okay, so it's definitely too late for a "before", because he smacks up against the doorway and feels the hot flush prickling under his skin, a potent, drugged need to be touched and filled and. this is bad. this is really bad. ]

[ that penetration question is suddenly really relevant because he's not sure he's ready to lose his penetrative virginity to his best friend and/or an angry alpha werewolf. and yet he's already wandering back across the room to find one of them, like his legs are no longer taking input from his upstairs brain. ]

[ scott was moving, yes; moving to basically hide in the fucking corner. he's on the floor with his back to the wall, eyes closed as he tries to concentrate - deep breaths, except he can't, because that's just more smoke.

his focus is amped up even as his coordination abandons him. same as last time - mind says one thing, body does another, senses keying into what they want: which is definitely two heartbeats, not one. stiles is still here.

there's a flash of irritation and he deliberately hits his head back against the wall, either to vent his annoyance or maybe knock some sense in. it doesn't work, of course, and so he pushes to his feet a second later. maybe if he doesn't focus on fighting it, he can do some kind of damage control.

get stiles out the door. he manages to find stiles in the haze, but the second he grabs his arm to shove him out the door, he realizes this was the worst plan. ]

Stiles. [ scott's breathing is a bit too heavy. he's supposed to be talking, moving, but he's distracted by stiles' mouth, and- ]

Derek.

[ that's a warning, not an invitation. scott's about half a second away from jumping his best friend, but fuck if he's going to let derek do it. ]

[ it's impossible not to immediately hone in on them. derek's senses and his command of them are better than scott's. he can hear them, even if he can't smell anything but the sickly sweet scent of the smoke. it's everywhere, in his mouth, coating the back of his throat, and he's coughing at first, violently like he's choking on it.

and then-- ]

Get him...you both need to leave.

[ because everything in his body is propelling him forward, remembers how scott felt, how he tasted, wants to draw him back in. he could. he can hear stiles heartbeat, sped up to deafening speeds. his body wants and derek stumbles back, trips over himself trying to fight his own body.

it's the worst thing in the world, the sudden loss of control. derek's panicky over it, even as slams back against the table, watching them and trying to keep from moving. the table has dents from how tightly his gripping it, and derek doesn't know how long he can hold on. ]

Go now.

[ derek's mad, but when is derek not. stiles is mostly ignoring him, honed in on scott, the heat of his fingers through the material of stiles' plaid shirt, his stupid crooked jawline. ]

Hey, bro.

[ stiles murmurs it, sliding closer, cupping a hand around scott's neck. this is a little bit weird, but it's a little bit okay, too. he loves scott more than anybody that isn't related to him, they're comfortable together, even though this feels like it's rapidly heading somewhere more intimate than puppy-piling on the bed while they play video games. ]

Is it a bad choice of wording if I point out we're really screwed?

[ the autopilot feeling lessens, though, when he's doing stuff like this, being forward. it gets to be his choice to lean in and nudge his nose up against scott's like an eskimo kiss, breath coming fast and hot. he completely no longer cares that derek is in the room. ]

[ there's love and trust, and then there's sex. the first two are easy with stiles; the third's never been part of the equation, but it feels incredibly easy right now. it's easy to lean forward at the light pressure on the back of his neck, to lean into stiles and feel his hot breath on his lips.

derek's right there. derek's yelling, and he's panicked. scott can hear it in his heartbeat, thinks he can maybe smell it in the sharp edge in the smoke's scent, and the truth is that's the only real reason he doesn't want this.

but that doesn't matter. there's a hesitant skip of his own scared heartbeat, then he matches stiles' gesture, running a hand over stiles' jaw and letting it settle on the back of his neck. another short hesitation, then he closes the gap between their lips. it's a bit too desperate a kiss to be entirely soft, but it's far from rough. ]

Edited (i can count ok) 2013-08-11 04:11 (UTC)

[ oh.

the immediate, vicious spike of jealousy is completely unanticipated. derek looks bewildered for a moment, like he's trying to sort out exactly where that reaction came from, but he doesn't get much time for it. there's something desperate and wanting curling through his chest, and his grip on the table slips.

there's a breath of an apology there, derek already hating himself for what's happening, even before he gets a handful of flannel, tugs a little, bracketing stiles even as he reaches a hand past him for scott.

it's literally the worst. like the worst. he thinks he might have to throw himself on gerard argent's silver sword when this wears off. ]

[ stiles moulds to scott the moment they kiss, wanting to be close. everything feels too hot and their bodies fit together awkwardly, but scott's mouth, that's nice, that's everything. stiles just wants to lick his way in and set up shop. ]

[ he doesn't even notice derek until the man is pulling him back. stiles makes a disgruntled noise, and then tenses as a little awareness of the situation comes back. his inhibitions are lowered, but not totally gone, and he doesn't know what derek wants, if he's about to get territorial over scott. ]

[ any other situation and he'd excuse himself, but apparently that's not an option on the table right now, as he presses back into derek, tips his head back to rest on his shoulder. ]

This is so weird.

[ he groans in complaint, because snuggling with derek is the last thing he wants. ]

[ stiles leans back into derek and scott follows, licking up his neck when it's exposed by the way he tips his head back onto derek's shoulder. it brings him right up next to derek, then, and there's a brief moment of eye contact - heady and, somehow, vaguely irritated - before he shifts his hand into derek's hair and kisses him.

that one's rough, but he knows derek can handle it; knows that he'll probably get the message, too, because scott's trying to play out in touches what he can't say in words.

he doesn't like this, at all. technically derek had a bit more control than him last time (well, certain kinds of control), so he shouldn't view him as a threat; but there'd still been bruising and struggling, trying to sort out dominance, and the idea of stiles being caught up in it is just shy of terrifying.

there's still a way to fix this. last time, it'd just taken completion, and then the spell had been broken. if they can just get stiles off and out the door-

scott's other hand trails down stiles' front, reaching the front of his jeans and pressing there, maybe a bit too urgently. it's not a very smooth motion, more awkward and needy and weirdly detached. he breaks away from derek long enough to speak, words hot in stiles' ear and on derek's mouth. ]

You have to hurry up and come.

[ poetry. ]

[ they're crushing stiles between them there, and derek's weirdly alright with it. scott kisses him and derek bites him back. his body remembers that, knows how to do that. but he understands, there's a point there, and derek gets it. stiles isn't a werewolf, stiles breaks more easily than scott or derek would. stiles is irritating and a pain in derek's ass most of the time, but his well being matters to derek, regardless of how he often pretends it doesn't. ]

Shut up and focus.

[ which could be directed at either of them, really, and derek doesn't bother to specify. instead he kisses scott again, hard like the bossy fucker he is, and slides both his hands around to stiles stomach, a little more hesitantly than he'd like to cop to, because he doesn't--

afterwards he might scald himself in the shower and mire himself in self-loathing for a while, but right now there's things that need to be done. and derek can focus on that, turn his head away from scott's mouth to suck on stiles' neck. ]

[ okay, so that is the opposite of territorial over scott. that is, in fact, derek's mouth on his neck, and stiles makes a whoawhoawhoa noise and elbows him in a flail. it's not hard — he doesn't have the room to move now that he's pressed between them. ]

[ he's hard already, and stiles honestly has no idea if that's the magical daterape smoke or if it was the sight of scott and derek biting into each other's mouths like real life porn — seriously, how did he end up in this situation. either way, scott's feeling it, a firm palm through the denim that stiles bucks obediently into. ]

It's sex, not a race.

[ he breathes, with more confidence than he actually feels considering he's the freaking inexperienced virgin in this scenario. but stiles has trouble focusing normally; right now it's even harder when there's two mouths and four hands and the press of interested werewolves all over. ]

If you're popping my cherry, we're not- we're not rushing it.

[ because this isn't what he wanted for his first time, but hey, he'll take it with both hands. scott is his best bro, derek is hot in an alpha-asshole sort of way that stiles doesn't want to admit he's into, they have a get out of jail free excuse for anything they wanna do, it could be way worse. ]

Stiles.

[ it's a tone that stiles is familiar with. maybe not quite this intimately, but the implication is clear; frustration with a conspicuous lack of real hostility. it's matched with the look scott used to give him when he wouldn't shut up about how cool being a werewolf is, but it's probably hard to tell when scott's muffling the tail end of it by shutting stiles up with a kiss.

he appreciates what stiles is saying here, he really does. but whatever stiles is looking for for his first time - scott doesn't trust himself to give it. surely quick and as untraumatic as possible is the best option, here.

instead of arguing, he starts to work the button of stiles' pants. there are a few fumbling seconds before he gets it, then the zipper, and then his hand's up against hot pressure and the thin fabric of stiles' boxers. ]

[ the elbow stiles jams into his stomach and derek makes a disgruntled noise up against his neck. he bites him back, blunt human teeth scraping right down the line of stiles neck like the retort derek should be saying but can't quite get his focus together enough to form. he's too hot, hard in his jeans, and his hands move restlessly up and down stiles stomach, hitch up under his shirt to get to his skin. ]

We're not popping anything.

[ though in all honesty, derek's the last person to consult on matters of virginity. he's careful in the application of mouth and teeth to stiles throat, not gentle, but careful, won't leave a mark even if part of him has a vague, confusing desire to. derek dismisses it, slides a hand down to curl around scott's wrist. ]

Come on.

[ because derek's all aboard the plan to get stiles to come and get out of the way asap. it's not much to do with wanting scott to himself, but wanting as little to do with--

it's already happened with scott. there's a level of resignation in it that derek hates, but understands. but stiles shouldn't be involved. or he should be as uninvolved as they can make him while still getting him off. ]

[ scott's hand in his pants is disorienting, dysmorphic. stiles makes a low noise the moment he feels it, because he's into it, he is, but it's kind of distressing, too. it's scott. kissing feels nice, intimate, and he opens his mouth willingly, loses track of whose hands are where (his own have minds of their own, and one keeps reaching back to palm derek's hip, his ass.) but this is so perfunctory. this is his jeans being unbuttoned and his dick grabbed, and while his dick is pretty enthusiastic about the proceedings stiles just feels disconnected from the whole thing. ]

Are you seriously—

[ oh no, more kissing. stiles' eyelashes flutter shut, and his hand tightens on scott's shoulder convulsively. but then he pulls back. ]

No. No. I know what you're doing, and it's mondo assholio. If you reduce me to a sex puddle then you can kick me out before I see your embarrassing O-faces, right?

[ he's kind of annoyed about the inequality here. not that he wants to have sex with scott and derek, but if he's going to then he wants it not to be wham bam thank you stiles, let's never speak of this again. except an alternate explanation occurs to him, and he continues to dodge kisses in order to run his mouth: ]

Unless you guys think three's a crowd. All that pent up hating-each-other tension's gotta be good for something, right?

[ for the love of god, montresor, shut the man up. ]

[ oh my god. derek clearly gets what scott is trying to do, but stiles is just - scott understands, on some level. it's the fact that stiles has any desire whatsoever to draw this out when it's between the three of them that he can't quite grasp, and that's why there's still frustrated reluctance in the way he gives in, stilling his decidedly unromantic attempts to get stiles taken care of.

and then stiles keeps talking, and now it's scott's turn to pull back. ]

Are you kidding me right now?

[ the look he's giving stiles is somewhere between offended and hurt and maybe even a bit appalled (sorry, derek). that's a lot of things at once, and the message is probably only further confused by the fact that he still has a hand down stiles' pants. ]

[ whatever argument they are having is slowing up the proceedings. derek makes a low, irritated noise, the kind that should be followed by a threat to seperate them but isn't, because derek doesn't think he's capable of letting go of stiles right now. what he is capable of is sliding his hands down to curl his fingers through scott's over stiles dick, scowling at scott from the curve of stiles neck as if the hold up is his fault. ]

Stiles, shut up. [ scott looks horrified and derek is diplomatically ignoring, because appalled is technically the right response. derek should also be having that response, but he's so pissed to begin with that it's distracting.

also stiles groping him is distracting, though derek highly resents that too. ]

Stop being an idiot and let Scott get you off.

[ like derek isn't an active participant in the proceedings. ]

[ he's mostly kidding. he's partially kidding. it's possible he's kidding because he's still furiously bitter about being left out in that weird, uncomfortable way that he doesn't want to address. ]

[ and then derek puts his hand on his dick and stiles jerks, thighs going tense, pulse going rapid. ]

Oh my god.

[ so much for resisting being reduced to a sex puddle. there are two hands on him right now. he just wants to be able to enjoy it more than he is, instead of having to worry about how much this is going to suck tomorrow, or if they're all just going to try and pretend it didn't happen. ]

You're the worst, Derek. Like, the actual worst. I don't know what —

[ he breathes hard, the joke strained. ]

I don't know what Scott sees in you.

[ because scott's horrified face is fantastically hilarious. ]

[ there's another flash of annoyance at stiles' baiting, but then it clicks. or scott thinks it clicks, anyway; he's known stiles for ages, but sometimes reading him is still a challenge.

derek's fingers are on his, on stiles, and scott doesn't pull away. but he relaxes his grip - the opposite of what derek's going for, probably - and turns his attention to really looking at stiles. there's a brief moment of eye contact before scott's attention wanders to his lips, and then he leans in to kiss him again.

it's different this time. there's no rushing, no urgency; just patience and exploration. his hand strays from derek's hair to stiles' instead, fingers twisting gently into it.

meaning he's ignoring derek completely. scott's not about to get into a fight with stiles about who's more important to him, here, because he's not entirely sure he can manage to form an argument. the nonverbal message will have to make do. ]

[ the pair of them do that thing, that thing where they talk without actually speaking, and derek makes a soft, irritated noise into stiles neck. because this is necessary, whatever it is they're hammering out, but derek wants this to be done. he wants this to be finished so they can all get down to pretending it never happened.

or scott and derek will attempt to. who knows what stiles is actually going to do.

he tugs lightly at scott's hair, tightens his grip on stiles dick. he gave them more than enough time for their moment. ]

Make out on your own time. [ things derek can't believe he is actually saying. ] We shouldn't drag this out.

[ stiles makes a very quiet noise, mostly relief, when scott kisses him again. his body is a little discontent, wants to go as fast as possible, wants abrupt and desperate. but that isn't really what stiles wants, and it's so good when scott gets it, acquiesces with his gentleness while derek bitches. ]

[ stiles would be perfectly content to just ignore him, but there's a firm hand on his junk demanding attention: he makes a muffled yelping noise and pulls scott back by the hair, looking infuriated. ]

Says who?

[ says derek, obviously, but stiles isn't that interested in his opinion. he drags a hand down scott's spine, squeezes one cheek gently. it's nice. it's weird thinking of his best friend's butt as nice. as much as he loves scott, and thinks that he's an objective hobby, there's something weird and dizzying and vaguely incestual about the familiarity with which their bodies meet. ]

I'm going to go at my own pace and— and if you don't like it you can just jerk off.

[ that would probably be a more effective threat if derek's hand on his dick didn't make his voice break. ]

[ this is probably the least appropriate time to laugh, and scott doesn't quite get that far, but he can't help a slightly disbelieving grin at stiles' comment. it's easy to lean into stiles and let his attitude disarm the situation, but the second part's a losing battle; because as familiar as this is, stiles and sarcasm, there's nothing particularly okay about the fact that scott's hips rock forward instinctively as stiles' hand reaches his ass.

except it's completely okay. which is the smoke talking, but even knowing that - it's somehow impossible to parse what's real and what's fake. the frustration inherent in that dilemma makes it surprisingly easy to shoot derek a glare. which is fine, obviously; less fine is the fact that when scott looks back to stiles, that frustration adds a slightly demanding edge to his voice. ]

Tell me what you want.

[ it is, theoretically, meant to be very open and seductive; it's probably too curt to really sell it. in his defense, slowing down is the absolute last thing his body wants to do right now. ]

Are we really discussing this?

[ it's sort of typical, the fact that virginity and first times are a touchy subject for derek. he isn't the first person anyone should be considering to deflower them, and he's pretty keenly aware of that. he's always aware that the point in which he could take his hands and body away from these proceedings has long since passed. ]

This isn't supposed to be...

[ but derek doesn't know how to finish that statement at all. it's just a mess of a thing, and he wants it to be over. not that that's a flattering statement and derek at least has the tact not to say that outloud, but still.

so he bypasses stiles entirely, just looks at scott intently, because they were seriously on the same page a minute ago before stiles gummed up the works, what gives scooter? ]

[ derek sounds irritated, which makes stiles annoyed-scared but also pushy. ]

Five seconds.

[ he kisses scott lightly and apologetically for the fact that he's about to thoroughly neglect him, but at the moment derek is cramping his style. he'd rather have awkward sex with scott, because he doesn't have to worry too much about it ruining anything. if they were the only two here, this might even be okay. ]

[ he turns in their arms, letting go of scott and leaning back into him instead, letting him hold his weight. that gives him a chance to grab at derek, who is intimidatingly solid, just this immovable wall of muscle and anger. but he's not so tall, and stiles barely has to tip his head up to look him in the eye. ]

It's supposed to be fun.

[ because it is. the more they make it about being forced, the worse the aftermath's gonna be. ]

Now will you kiss me already?

[ when stiles ends the kiss and turns to face derek instead, there's a pull in his gut, a sense of loss that's only vaguely sated by the way stiles leans back into him. there's a flash of jealousy, too, but it's subtle enough to ignore.

scott's momentarily distracted when he gets a view of the back of stiles' neck, and his first urge is to take advantage of it; but stiles is trying to accomplish something, and whatever self-control scott has is enough to make him wait. his hand's slid out from derek's in the wake of stiles turning, and now he's settled one on each of stiles' hips, offering a gentle pressure. it's suddenly a bit awkward and high school dance-worthy, but it's either that or abandoning said self-control and forcefully turning him back around, so scott settles for this.

it's suppose to be fun. the thought hadn't even begun to occur to scott last time. there wasn't anything fun in the desperation and the contact, the raw need and that uneasy dominance. that hasn't gone away, but stiles is an interruption. scott's not entirely sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing yet, but at least it's different. whether derek will see the merit in that is another matter entirely. ]

Nothing about this is fun.

[ though derek's whole perception of this is colored by all the things that have happened to him, by the knowledge that this is happening, he can't stop himself from doing it, and when it's over he's going to have to live with it. but none of that, not a single bit, is something he cares to share with the class. which probably shouldn't be surprising, considering how derek hoards every piece of information he has, but still.

his gaze moves from stiles to scott, like he's seeking permission. kissing scott was...well, familiar is the wrong word. but they'd done that before, they'd dealt with this before. derek had kissed scott and tasted the faint tinge of smoke in the back of his mouth, and he'd done it again today, stiles pinned between them. but stiles is something else. ]

For five seconds?

[ his fingers brush against scott's against stiles hip, laces through them and holds tight. ]

As long at you like,

[ stiles rejoins, easy, chin tipped up. it belies the way his scent's gone hurt at the lurching realization, or maybe reminder, that Derek doesn't want to be here, can't even fake enjoying himself. he considers pointing out that maybe they should just get derek off so he can leave them to it. ]

[ there's something familiar in derek's hesitation. which is screwed up in and of itself, obviously, because this isn't the type of situation that has any right to become familiar. scott only really notices it because he's looking for a distraction, trying to give stiles time to make this work.

but he does notice it. it's in the way derek's hands find his, fingers intertwining and holding tight, and scott shifts his grip on stiles' hips just enough to slide his thumbs over derek's. it's a small gesture, easily lost in the tactile mess between the three of them, but it's meant to soothe. ]

Just kiss him. Please.

[ slightly less soothing, maybe, but there's a surprising amount of levity. what gravity it carries is reserved for reassurance instead of pressure.

that all said: seriously, hurry up. scott's not entirely sure he can keep the pace steady for long. ]

[ the way stiles scent goes hurt confuses him, flickers over derek's face for a minute like he doesn't understand why stiles cares whether or not derek wants to kiss him, why that should matter. but scott's rubbing his thumb and stiles is tilting his face up and derek--

derek's made bad decisions more often than not.

he dips his head down and kisses stiles, carefully, hesitant, licks into his mouth slowly while his grip tightens on scott's hand. derek clutches at scott like he's waiting for scott to draw him back, to keep him from sliding too far. he can taste the smoke in stiles mouth, reaches up with his free hand to cup his neck, tilt his head at the angle derek wants it.

kissing is something derek's good at, even if the fact that he's kissing stiles is going to wreck him later. ]

[ derek is good. stiles is a little taken aback by that, when he probably shouldn't be: derek's good at everything. derek controls the kiss, and stiles lets him, gives up his tongue. he hasn't exactly done this much, but it's nice, and for a moment he forgets about the smoke all together. ]

[ and then his body reminds him. ]

Mm.

[ he breathes it, pulling away reluctantly, still a little glassy-eyed. ]

Oh my god, sex now. Sex me up.

[ he'd promised scott five seconds, so he starts paying a little attention that way, too, twisting around. he's not actually sure whose hands are where by this point. ]

Dicks out, lets go.

stiles + scott + derek

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melissa let me in blame her

Re: melissa let me in blame her

AMBER YOUR SUBJECT

TOUCHES IT

it literally just hit me how ridiculous this is help

lmao yw

not sorry about it

cries and makes things up

you make things up so good

lmfao this fucking thread weeps

i still don't know how there's going to be more witchbombs help

helps

i'm still fucking dying of laughter fml i'll never check my e-mail at work again

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surprise

this is my favorite thing in the world.

me too

yells quietly

there's an inapporpriate amount of feelings in here i'm serious

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cheeky icon

i wanted to make a butts joke out of this somehwo just pretend i did.

omg "cheeky" hahahaha

sorry derek bros b4 assholes

you should put that on a t-shirt.

stiles would buy it

crawls back in here

lays down on

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immortalizes typos a month later not sorry

touches typos

still can't take this threesome seriously oops. sorry... about this.

just leaving this here for you guys.