Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3708579.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall/
      Stiles_Stilinski, Vernon_Boyd/Erica_Reyes/Stiles_Stilinski, Isaac_Lahey/
      Scott_McCall, Allison_Argent/Scott_McCall/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale, Peter_Hale, Scott_McCall, Allison_Argent,
      Vernon_Boyd, Erica_Reyes, Isaac_Lahey
  Additional Tags:
      Smut, Fluff, Threesome_-_F/M/M, Oral_Sex, Barebacking, Rutting, Semi-
      Public_Sex
  Series:
      Part 26 of Giving_Myself_to_You_(Prompt_Fills)
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-04-09 Words: 3315
****** Touch Me (And I'll Touch You) ******
by ToAStranger
Summary
     Everyone wants a piece of Stiles.
     - - -
     Another old prompt fill.
Notes
     Prompt: A new pack is passing through BH and their alpha, smitten,
     tries to woo Stiles. Scared of Stiles actually leaving, the home team
     try to woo Stiles back. Stiles/All the pairings!
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Stiles says, arms crossing over his chest. 
Peter sighs from where he and Derek are giving Scott the rundown over the
kitchen table.  ”Alliances are important, Stiles.  They—” 
“Strengthen the Pack and our claim on the territory, blah, blah, blah— I’ve
heard it already.  Can we get to the part where you explain to me why I have to
be there?”  Stiles asks dryly.  
"You’re Scott’s Second.”  Derek replies, not even looking up from the map,
searching for a good place to meet with the other Pack, someplace with equal
footing for all of them.  
Stiles’ nose wrinkles.  ”I’m not a werewolf.” 
“But you’re strong,” Scott replies.  "And you’re my best friend.  And you’ve
got some mojo about you—"
“—a Spark,” Peter provides. 
“Right.  A Spark.  You help me with everything, dude.  You’re totally my
Second, which means you’ve gotta be there.  Or it’ll be, like, insulting them.”
 Scott shrugs, smiling over at Stiles, and Stiles returns the expression.
 "Bros for life, you know?“ 
"Yeah, yeah.”  Stiles sighs, moving close and letting their knuckles bump,
hating the way his heart sort of sinks a bit at the terminology.  "Bros for
life.“ 
===============================================================================
Stiles is a little more than shocked when the Alpha gives him a lingering once
over.  ”This is your emissary?” 
"In training.”  Stiles clarifies, wondering if she likes what she sees or
thinks he’s as pathetic as Stiles feels. 
“You smell strong,” she replies, eyes flashing a warm red.  
Stiles would have felt a bit panicked if it wasn't for the way Scott presses
closer.  ”Thank you?” 
“You’re welcome,” she bows her head slightly.  "I am Zoe Torres, Alpha of the
Alleyne Pack.“ 
Stiles glances over at Scott, but his own Alpha doesn’t reply.  He vaguely
recalls something about only those who are addressed by the Alpha should speak
first— make it as painless as possible— and Stiles swallows as he smiles at
her.  
"And I’m Stiles of Beacon Hills, son of Orflec the butcher.”  He quips.  
Zoe smiles slowly, eyes bright even in the dim light that is filtering from
above.  He can hear Derek sigh heavily; he doesn’t have to look to know that
Scott is grinning over at him in something like adoration.  One of Zoe’s wolves
chuckle. 
“You’re funny,” she says. 
“Depends on who you’re speaking to." 
"Funny, strong, and from what I hear very smart.”  Zoe adds.  "I’m not in
Beacon Hills for just any reason, Mr. Stilinski.“ 
"Then why are you here?”  Scott speaks up for the first time since introducing
himself.  
“To woo your emissary, Alpha McCall.”  Zoe grins, sharp, over at Scott and
everyone stiffens.  "Originally only to offer him a place in our Pack.  But
seeing him… to offer him a place as my Mate.“ 
Stiles swallows thickly, and there is the definite smell of arousal.  Zoe is,
well… she’s easy on the eyes, that’s for damn sure. 
Scott growls.  ”That’s not going to happen.” 
"That’s up to your emissary,” she replies.  "We’ll be in the area for a month,
as previously discussed.  When we’re ready to move on, Mr. Stilinski will
decide.“ 
"I can’t decide now?” Stiles asks. 
Zoe smiles over at him.  ”Give it a little time, Stiles.  I assure you, I can
be very persuasive.” 
“Right." 
"A month,” Scott says through clenched teeth.  "That’s all you get.“ 
Zoe smiles like she’s already won.  ”That’s all I’ll need.”
===============================================================================
Two weeks in and Stiles is maybe kind of a little bit in love.  Zoe is a
goddess among mortals.  She’s warm and bright, encourages him when they meet up
and gives him tomes that he otherwise would have never got his hands on.  Her
entire Pack is welcoming too, though his favorite is their youngest Beta, a
young girl named Summer who is fond of dancing and playing video games.
She’s kind of a wiz, and even with games she’s never played before, she kicks
his ass.  Her brother is always kind of looming, and the rest of the Pack seems
amicable enough.  Stiles, of course, has no intensions of leaving.  None at
all.  He’s loyal, and will cling to his own Pack until the end of the world
(which he is still convinced will be by zombies).
That doesn’t mean that he hasn’t been sort of swooning since Zoe and her Pack
started trying to sway him to the dark side.  The Pack—his Pack naturally takes
these admissions of awe as evidence that whatever it is Zoe is doing
is working.
Which is the only explanation Stiles can come up with as to why there are two
very attractive Betas in his room.
“Finally.  I thought you were gonna be out with them all night, Batman.” Erica
sighs from her spot on his bed, rolling off of her stomach and onto her
side—wearing nothing but one of his shirts and a pair of panties.
“Oh my god,” Stiles squeaks, cheeks growing a ruddy color as he covers his
eyes.  “What are you doing?  Your boyfriend is right there, and he will kill
me!”
Boyd chuckles, spinning lazily around in Stiles’ desk chair.  “Drop the hands,
little man.  It’s not a big deal.”
“Then you won’t be killing me?”  Stiles asks, peering over at Boyd cautiously,
and the older boy shakes his head. 
“No, Stiles.”  He says, a small but warm smile on his face.  “I’m not even
gonna kill you for this.”
“For what—“
Erica is standing right in front of him.  Like, right in front of him, oh
my god—
Her lips are soft but insistent against his.  She curls her fingers into the
straps of his backpack, and takes advantage of the way his jaw drops.  Tilting
her head, she licks his way past his teeth, letting it tangle with his, and
it’s only a second later when Stiles moans and lets his eyes fall shut.  Erica
hums her reply, tugging him closer sharply, and Stiles stumbles a bit but she
is strong enough to hold her ground against him.
It is a moment into this that he realizes Boyd has gotten up from the desk
chair.  Mostly because Boyd is pressed to his back, a strong hand on Stiles’
hip as he ducks his head down to inhale the scent of him.  His nose presses to
the sensitive spot just under Stiles’ ear, and it earns a shudder from the teen
trapped between them.  Stiles’ heartbeat spikes as he feels Boyd’s other hand
slip up the inside of Stiles’ shirt over warm skin—rough and soft in all the
right ways—and that’s when Stiles breaks away with a gasp.
“Um—Um, what—?” he stammers, hands flailing sort of uselessly.
“We’re here to convince you,” Erica says, kissing along his jaw, shuffling
forward until Stiles is sandwichedfirmly between the two Betas.  The two
ridiculously hot, hot, ohmygod so hot Betas.  Erica laughs, scents the air, and
leans in to nip at his lower lip.  “It’s okay, Batman.  We want you too.”
“Convince—Convince me?” Stiles squeaks, and then Boyd’s hand—Stiles bucks into
his palm, groaning at the sweet pressure, and then blushes a bit helplessly.
“To stay with the Pack.  Our Pack.”  Boyd adds.  “To let you know that you’re
wanted.”
“In many more ways than one,” Erica winks.
“So this is just—“
“No,” Boyd cuts him off, giving a firm squeeze to his crotch and rocking
against the cleft of his ass to show his own reaction to what was going on. 
“No, this is all very, very real.”
“Oh,” Stiles breathes, voice reedy and tight.  “Okay.”
“Is it?” Erica perks up.  “Because I had this whole striptease thing planned,
but if you’re okay with it we can jump straight to the good stuff.”
“Good stuff?”
Eyes flashing a pretty gold color, she glances over Stiles’ shoulder at Boyd. 
“Get him out of his clothes.  Get him on the bed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”  Boyd grins.
Stiles goes willingly.
===============================================================================
Orgasms aside, the entire situation is very confusing.  For Stiles anyways. 
Mostly because after all the cuddling and kissing and post-coital glow, they
told him to expect more of it.  On, like, a permanent basis.  And that he
didn’t have to “limit himself,” which Stiles had absolutely no idea
what that meant. 
Until Isaac cornered him in the locker room. 
“You’ve been smelling like them more and more,” Isaac mutters, crowding in
close, and Stiles grips at the towel around his waist like a lifeline.
“What? Who?” Stiles asks, blushing, worried for a moment that maybe he could
smell Erica and Boyd—of course he could smell Erica and Boyd—and was angry
about it. 
“That—that other Pack,” Isaac scowls.  “You should stop spending time with
them.”
“Isaac, it’s really nothing, okay—?”
Isaac growls and really Stiles should be used to that by now, but he isn’t. 
Isaac presses him back against the lockers, dipping his head to drag his nose
along Stiles’ collarbone, water still clinging to his skin.  Thank fuck no one
else is left in there. 
“You smell good like this.  Clean.”
“I’ll um… start showering more?”  Stiles tries.  “Maybe try and new body
spray.  I saw a commercial the other day with David Beckham in it for some
cologne.”
Isaac gives him a dry look.  “You know that’s not what I mean.”
“It isn’t?”
“Stiles—“
“What did you mean then?  Because I’m drawing a blank here—“
Isaac kisses him firmly.  Stiles meeps.
Brows furrowed, Isaac pulls back.  “Not the reaction you should be having.”
“Right, cuz I’m just supposed to jump you because you’re showing an interest
all of a sudden.”  Stiles snorts, and Isaac raises a slow brow—smiling
crookedly.
“Yeah.”
Stiles looks at him for a long moment, eyes narrowing in a squinty way before
he sighs and shrugs.  “Okay.”
He tugs Isaac back in for another kiss, easily much more demanding now that he
knows (kind of) what’s going on.  Isaac presses in flush, letting out a
satisfied rumble, and they claim each other’s mouths messily. 
They end up rutting together against the lockers until Stiles comes with a cry
of Isaac’s name, and the other teen is quick to follow.  Stiles takes another
shower afterwards, and Isaac trails along behind him like a puppy the whole
way.  Stiles can’t say he doesn’t like it.
===============================================================================
So now he’s sort of, kind of sleeping with Erica, Boyd, and Isaac.  Not only in
the sexual sense, but the physical one as well.  No, literally, they come over
to his house sometimes and crawl into bed with him and sleep like a puppy pile
(after orgasms, of course, this is so weird).  How is this Stiles’ life?
Zoe’s Pack seems to have noticed the new claim his Pack is slowly making on
him.  She doesn’t say anything when they meet for lunch on a pretty Saturday
afternoon, but he can tell that she knows something.  He’s tempted to ask, but
he thinks it might be rude.
When he gets home later that day, there’s Scott and Allison in his kitchen and
talking with his dad.  They all look very serious, and Stiles freezes as he
enters. 
“Should I be running?” Stiles asks, a bit wary. 
“No, son.” The Sheriff sighs, shaking his head as he pinches his nose and
stands.  “No need to run unless you want to.”
“Want to?  Why would I want to?”
“Good question,” the Sheriff mutters, moving over to him and patting his
shoulder.  “Stay safe.  Don’t—I mean, don’t do anything stupid, Stiles.  I got
a late shift.”
“Um… okay?” Stiles replies, looking a bit confused. 
The Sheriff just gives him a small smile and leans in, kissing Stiles’
temple.   “Have a good night.  Clean up when you’re done.  That’s one mess I
don’t want to deal with.  Ever.”
As his father walks out the door, Stiles turns a bewildered expression onto his
best friends.  “What wasthat?”
Scott shrugs, beaming over at him.  “We were just telling him our intensions.”
“Your—Oh.  Oh, no.  No.  Not you guys too.”
“It’s not a big deal, Stiles.” Allison smiles at him, soft and affectionate. 
“It’s actually pretty normal from what I’ve read.”
“What about all of this is normal?” Stiles asks, pitch raising to hysteric
levels as his arms windmill wildly.  “Everyone suddenly wants to seduce me. 
I’ve gotten more action in the last couple of days than I have in my entire
life, and I’m starting to think it’s witchcraft because—“
Stiles cuts himself off, lips rounding. 
“Oh.  Oh!”
“Oh?” Scott tilts his head.
“Oh!” Stiles nods.  “It’s a spell.  It’s a—It’s a curse or something, to make
you all find me suddenly smokin’ hot so that your distracted and don’t
notice—don’t notice—“
“Don’t notice what?” Allison asks, standing up slowly, and Stiles straightens
up and swallows thickly at the look in her eyes as she draws closer, fingers
dragging over the table top.  “The complete lack of supernatural activity
anywhere near here?”
“Yeah,” Stiles replies, then shakes his head.  “Wait, no.  That’s not—“
“It has nothing to do with a spell, Stiles.” Scott says from where he’s
sitting, voice firm, looking more like the Alpha that he is and less like a
kid.  “It has everything to do with you.”
“What about me?” 
“The reason that Zoe thinks she can take you is because she sees that we’ve
been… neglecting you.”  Scott replies, jaw flexing.  “We won’t be making that
mistake again.”
Allison takes Stiles' hand, pulling him over carefully to where Scott awaits
them.  “It’s not just because of the other Pack, Stiles.  They just helped us
all realize what we’ve been doing wrong.”
“Which is?”
“Holding back certain feelings,” Scott supplies.  “Not giving into what we
need.  What you need.”
Stiles falls quiet as they stop before Scott.  Stiles is already rank with
arousal, just at the idea being tossed around, and Scott’s eyes flash red.  He
holds up a hand to Stiles, expectant but also questioning.  Coaxing.  Because
ultimately, all of this is Stiles’ decision.
“Come here.”
Stiles swallows again, with an audible little click, and he reaches out to
Scott’s hand and lets himself get pulled into his lap.  They kiss easily, like
they’ve been doing it for years, and Allison strokes through Stiles’ hair. 
It’s lingering and slow, but it doesn’t last long like that. 
Back to Scott’s chest, Stiles ends up holding onto the edge of the table for
dear life as Scott fucks up into him.  Allison steadies him with a hand in his
hair, splaying out over the kitchen table as Stiles’ eats her out.  When
they’re all spent and Scott guides him up to his room as he mumbles about
cleaning the dining room up before his dad gets home, Stiles vaguely realizes
that he has more questions than he does answers.
===============================================================================
“Stop looking at me like that,” Lydia says, face resting heavily against her
palm as she reads through their history text book, taking idle notes on a
notebook.
“Like what?” Stiles scoffs, looking away for a moment before staring at her
again, watching her every move as if she might spring out and bite him like a
cobra. 
“Like that,” Lydia replies, giving him a dry look.
“I’m not looking at you like anything, okay?  Stop being weird.”
Lydia purses her lips.  Stiles tries to look casual.
“Your book is upside down,” she tells him.
He blushes.
“If you want to know if I’m going to try and screw you like the rest of our
sex-crazed little Pack, you can stop.”  Lydia sits up a bit primly.
Stiles slumps—disappointed and, well, embarrassed.
“Because I am,” she adds.  “I just haven’t decided when yet.”
Stiles looks over at her slowly, jaw going lax.   “What.”
“You’re cute.  I want you, and you want me.  I don’t see a problem with it.” 
Lydia shrugs a shoulder, and then looks thoughtful for a moment.  “I’ve never
had sex in the library before.  Do you think we could pull that off?”
Stiles practically melts.  “I love you.”
Lydia shoots him a dazzling smile.  “I know.”
===============================================================================
“The other Pack is gone, I’m still here, and you guys can all stop with the
charade.  It’s been fun, but I get it and there’s no reason to string me along
anymore.”  Stiles calls out into the loft as he walks through the front door,
stilling when he realizes that only Derek is there.
“The other Pack is gone?” he asks, brow furrowed.
“Um… Yeah.  Zoe—Alpha Zoe and I had a discussion.  She was originally going to
stay the whole month, but uh… I guess I was pretty convincing when I told her I
was never leaving you guys.”  Stiles scuffs his shoe against the floor.  “Not a
big deal.”
“That’s—“ Derek’s jaw works, and he nods.  “That’s good, Stiles.  That’s good
to hear.”
“Very good, indeed.”  Peter drawls, making his way down the stairs with all the
ease of a Hollywood villain. 
Stiles isn’t attracted to him and his deep-v.  He isn’t.  He definitely isn’t
going to say he’s sad he’s going to miss finding out if the Hales were going to
take part in the crackpot plan to get him to stick around.  Stiles considers
himself lucky that he ever got laid.  Cherished memories for future lonely
nights.
“Yeah,” Stiles palms the back of his head.  “I thought we were having a Pack
meeting.  I was gonna tell everyone in one go.”
“Courteous of you,” Peter hums, drawing in closer and scenting the air.  “My,
my you certainly have become entwined with this Pack recently, haven’t you?”
“Excuse me?” Stiles asks, an endearing wrinkle forming between his brows.
“Peter,” Derek chides.  “He doesn’t know.  No one has explained it to him.”
“I’ve noticed,” Peter retorts, a hand reaching out and curving behind Stiles’
neck, eyes flashing blue when Stiles’ eyes fall shut.  “Do you want to know
what’s happening, Stiles?”
“Yes,” he breathes, and there must be something pleasant in the tone of his
voice because both wolves let out that rumbling sound that’s almost a purr.
 “Please.”
“This is what it’s like to be in a wolf pack, Stiles.”  Peter says softly,
crowding in close so that Stiles can feel the heat of him.  “The bonds between
us will grow stronger and stronger this way.”
Stiles’ nose wrinkles.  “Even between family members?”
“No,” Peter barks out a laugh, and Stiles opens his eyes to catch sight of
Derek’s own laugh being muffles behind a hand.  “Familial bonds are already
strong.  But a truly powerful, cohesive Pack?  That comes with things like
this.  With… sharing.  Loving, even.”
“Loving?” Stiles glances up at him.
“In a sense,” Peter nods.  “You love each and every one of us, don’t you?  In
your own way.”
“Yes,” Stiles answers instantly. 
“Good,” Peter nods.
“You don’t have to do any of this, Stiles.” Derek adds.  “It’s only if you want
to.  It’s only ever if you want to.”
“But with—with all of you?”
“Yes,” Peter confirms.  “Though, if you were to date someone outside the Pack,
it would be understandable if you ceased.  If you found someone within the
Pack, or a couple of someones, you could limit yourself.  Though the… more
canine members are going to always want to.”
“Do you want to?”
“Since the moment I saw you,” Peter says.
Stiles nods, looking Derek’s way, and the other man nods.  “For a while,
Stiles.  A long while.”
Stiles inhales deep, takes it all in.  He shivers, and gives a little nod of
his own.  “Good news: my dad seems to already know.”
Peter chuckles.  “The Pack isn’t to be here for another hour.  I’d very much
enjoy getting to know you in the ways they have, Stiles.  I’m sure Derek is
itching to get into your pants as well.”
“Okay,” Stiles replies, grinning a bit, feeling lighter.  Feeling freer
somehow.  “Lead the way.” 
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