Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2311319.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Sheriff_Stilinski/Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Derek
      Hale/Sheriff_Stilinski, Derek_Hale/Sheriff_Stilinski/Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Mating_Cycles/In_Heat, Incest, Father/Son
      Incest, Underage_Sex, Barebacking, Knotting
  Series:
      Part 6 of A_Series_of_Incestuous_Events
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-09-15 Words: 6915
****** tension burning, fever high (tonight the rules do not apply) ******
by abapical
Summary
     Everything goes a few steps further.
Notes
     Surprise, this is almost entirely porn! With a side dish of feelings.
     And gratuitous barebacking.
See the end of the work for more notes
When Derek tells Stiles in passing that he hasn’t been taking any heat match
contracts lately, it knocks the wind out of him. They’re on the preserve and
the bite of winter is sharp enough for Derek’s cheeks and nose to be nipped
pink. Stiles has been wanting to hop into his arms and kiss him approximately
every other minute.
“Hang on, you what?”
Derek shrugs. “My schedule’s been busier than usual lately. It just made
sense.” He flashes Stiles one of those knee-weakening grins he’s so good at.
“Why, did you have a problem with that?”
Stiles gives up on words and pounces on him.
He knows he’s being greedy, but he’s always hated the idea of another omega
getting all of Derek's kisses and crinkly-eyed smiles and soft reassurances. If
he got to draw up Derek's contract, it would be a huge list of ticky boxes.
There are a lot of things he wants, and that's not even counting the things he
wants Derek to do to his dad so he can live vicariously through him.
There are the innocent things like getting to see them kiss again, or bicker
about football, even though Stiles couldn’t care less about it himself. But
there are other things too.
Like. He desperately wants to watch Derek sucking his daddy off. Both because
he knows how good Derek is at that, and because he wants to know what his daddy
looks and sounds like while it happens.
And then maybe kiss Derek after so he can find out what he tastes like, too. He
needs more kisses full stop, he was so heat-drunk last time he can barely
remember Derek’s mouth on his.
Stiles’ imagination has always been a dangerous playground.
These are the things he's been thinking of when he drifts off to sleep in his
too-small twin bed.
He's really been feeling the smallness of it lately. There are lots of times
when he just imagines being sprawled out in his dad’s nice big bed with them
both right there with him. Not even really doing anything, just having that
kind of peaceful, natural closeness like when his heat had finally abated. He's
hoping that can go on a little longer next time, with Derek not on the clock
and with his dad a little less worried about everything. He's been tracking his
cycle and it won’t be long now before he ends up in bed with them again.
Once they’d finished their impromptu soul-baring conversation in the living
room, he’d really wanted Derek to stay the night but that just didn’t seem like
it was going to fly. He did ask his dad to tuck him in after Derek went home,
something he hadn't asked for in years. His dad had raised an eyebrow at it but
followed Stiles to his room anyway, given him a glass of water and an extra
long hug that tightened even more when Stiles murmured thank you against his
jaw.
“When were you gonna tell me you weren’t taking the pills?” his dad had asked,
sounding so tired it had made Stiles hurt for him.
He still hadn’t had a real answer, so he’d stuttered through an explanation
about how he'd been planning to say something but he was so nervous about it.
In the back of his mind he’d known if he waited until his heat hit, his daddy
would definitely find out the truth. But maybe he'd be so concerned with
getting him through his heat that it wouldn’t matter as much. And maybe if he
managed to get Derek and his dad together, his dad would be too happy to be
disappointed in him.
It turned out his twin bed didn’t feel so little anymore with his daddy in it
with him for the first time since his first heat, holding him close. Stiles had
been bracing himself, waiting for his dad to be angry at him, but he’d seemed
more sad than anything else.
“I didn’t mean to make you worry,” he’d said quietly. “I’m really sorry.”
His daddy hadn’t said anything back, but he’d let Stiles kiss his cheek and
squirm in as close as possible. Stiles was pretty sure that meant everything
was okay, and he’d fallen asleep with his daddy right there with him, all solid
and warm.
He still wishes Derek had stayed so he could help his dad feel better too. But
according to the tracking app on his phone, the projected date of his next heat
isn’t that far off. He won't be waiting long.
Derek, being Derek, is helping a fish and wildlife team tag geese when it
happens.
Stiles starts feeling lightheaded towards the end of the day. He finally breaks
down and calls Derek after Scott stares at him with huge eyes the entire bus
ride home like he’s expecting Stiles to spontaneously combust.
He told Scott he's not on suppressants because they made him feel nauseous all
the time, that maybe he'll try again when he's a little older. He doesn't like
lying to his best friend, but this is one time where it's really the only
option.
“I’ll be over as soon as I can,” Derek promises. “I really need to shower
first, I’m surrounded by geese.”
It’s a testament to just how acclimated Stiles has become to Derek’s mountain
man life that this sounds perfectly normal.
He's pretty proud of himself for handling this so well--he’s getting better
about being able to tell when his body starts throwing these signals at him.
When he calls his dad at work to fill him in, he assures him they'll be okay
until he's finished his shift. He still wants them both, but he also still
feels bad for making his dad worry and he's not going to force him to leave
work. It's just another hour or two; Derek can take good care of him in the
meantime.
His heat’s still building, it’ll be a little while before he gets really
desperate. Right now all he really needs is to have all of his clothes off and
someone's body touching his. And this time they get to skip over the angst
about condoms and his poor dad sitting downstairs. Everyone can jump straight
to the fun part.
Derek teleports. He must. Stiles closes his eyes for a minute while he’s
arching into his hand, then when he opens them he’s got Derek standing over him
with damp hair and a worried look on his face.
“That was fast,” Stiles tells him, too giddy to be embarrassed. “Just FYI, I
really wouldn't have minded if you showed up smelling like pine needles and
geese.”
“It's a professional integrity thing.” Derek perches on the edge of the bed and
checks his temperature with the back of one hand. “I didn't even know I could
shower that fast.”
Stiles pulls him down. “So let’s see how fast we can get you dirty again.”
Derek kisses him, politely does not snort at Stiles' line, and everything else
just melts away.
It’s different this time. Stiles’ world is quickly becoming nothing but need,
but it’s a good slow-burning need and not the scary, desperate kind that
knocked him off his feet during his first two heats. And Derek is there for
every second of it, mouthing his nipples and sliding his hands all over him and
letting Stiles wrestle him out of his clothes without a fuss. He does tease
little more than is strictly necessary, though, rubbing a finger against his
hole and nipping his ear. “Do you need it now? Or do you think you can hold off
until John gets home?”
Stiles wails and gouges his fingers into the pillows. He does want it, but he’s
never been fucked without his daddy holding his head, petting him and telling
him how good he's being. Just a little longer and he can have his daddy's hand
kneading the back of his neck while Derek nudges his cock inside him. “I can
wait,” he whispers.
By the time his dad gets home, Stiles is in agony.
He’s stretched around Derek’s fingers and rutting his cock into Derek’s hand
and still clutching at the pillows so hard he’s not sure how they’re still
intact. In the time since Derek arrived, he’s already come twice and the ache
for something inside him, something bigger, has him panting and arching and
biting his lips red to keep from begging to be knotted.
When he opens his mouth to choke out a hello, all that comes out is, “Oh, thank
god, you can knot me now.”
His dad looks like someone just slapped him in the face. “Derek hasn’t--why?
Stiles, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you don’t get what your body needs.” He
doesn't even make the connection with himself.
“It just didn't feel right,” Stiles says. “You’re part of this too.”
Now his dad looks like he’s about to reprimand him for not letting Derek take
care of him, but he kisses Stiles' brow instead, crawling up onto the bed and
turning Stiles onto his side so he's held tight between them. All it takes is a
squeeze of his daddy's hand on the nape of his neck and Stiles melts for him,
tucking his face against his chest.
Derek's been there for him the whole time, so it's not like he’s out of his
mind, but his fever is high and he's soaking the sheets where Derek’s still
fingering him. Having both of them touching him at the same time has him right
on the edge already.
Derek didn't miss a beat when John joined them last time and he doesn't this
time either. He's so good at what he does, Stiles thinks blearily. "Tell us
what you need, baby," he urges.
Stiles whimpers, arching himself back onto Derek's fingers and into his dad’s
hand at the same time. "Need you inside me so bad, please." He doesn't know how
the hell he’s has been holding back this long.
His daddy's scent makes it so much more intense, too, makes his cheeks burn and
his body clench around Derek's fingers. It's going to take so much out of him
just to keep from begging his daddy to knot him. He's right there.
His dad thumbs across his lips, breath hissing when Stiles whines and tries to
suck the tip of it into his mouth, "We’ve got you, kiddo."
Stiles just moans brokenly because he's not full enough and they're both
teasing him without even trying and his daddy still has clothes on. If he had
the coordination, he'd be pulling at them himself.
When his daddy helps Sitles hoist a leg over his hip and holds him through it
while Derek slides into him from behind, he loses all coordination entirely.
He’s gritting please, need it, please again and again and mouthing at his
daddy's neck, not really conscious of what he's doing besides knowing that
there's nice soft skin against his lips and he has to make sure it gets kissed.
Stiles doesn't have all his faculties right now, but he really likes kisses and
he needs his daddy to know how happy he is to have him there. He still has his
face hidden against the side of his daddy's neck, so he can't see what’s
happening, but he feels it when Derek stretches over his shoulder. When he
glances up, it’s just in time to see him press his mouth to the hinge of his
dad’s jaw.
The orgasm hits him like a freight train.
All it takes is Stiles moaning one little love you, daddy against his throat
while he comes and his daddy is moaning too. It cuts off suddenly, and it takes
Stiles a minute to realize he’s being muffled by Derek's mouth, while Derek's
hips judder to a stop and Stiles feels his knot swelling inside him.
Seeing his daddy and Derek together like this takes his breath away all over
again. His daddy kisses like he's never going to get to do it again, like this
is his last chance to have any kind of human contact. When Stiles really thinks
about that, it makes him kind of sad.
He's nudging up under his dad’s chin, starting to tug at his shirt with one
clumsy hand, when Derek seems to decide he can get on board with that even
though he has to tear himself away from kissing long enough to speak. "John,
can you--let's get you comfortable this time, okay?"
Stiles nuzzles against his daddy’s chest, seeking out the little triangle of
skin from where he managed to get a few buttons of his uniform shirt undone. He
likes hearing the soft little gasps his daddy makes, like just Derek’s mouth on
his is enough to make him dizzy. Stiles has thought a lot about what his daddy
might do if Derek put his mouth on him.
He doesn’t actually mean to say anything, but Derek is still so full and hot
inside him and all his daddy has are kisses, when it’s so obvious he needs
more. Stiles is so pleasantly dazed his thoughts just fall straight out of his
mouth, because it doesn’t occur to him to censor them. “He wants to touch you,
daddy. Don’t you, Derek?”
Derek doesn’t miss a beat. “I do, yeah. But I need you to help me, okay? Do you
think you can give him a hand with that shirt?”
Stiles is already nodding, his breathing shallow as Derek grazes his fingers
against his daddy’s jaw. “John, is that okay with you?” There’s tension
practically leaping off him, but he doesn’t pull away.
“Yeah,” his dad says finally, in a voice that sounds rough and sore, and Derek
carefully leans over Stiles' shoulder to kiss him again.
Stiles’ hands are shaking too badly to be much help undoing the rest of his
dad’s buttons. He has to bite the inside his his cheek when his dad pulls back
in order to get his shirt off, then sobs again when he moves back in to hug him
close. Stiles has been telling himself that he can't ask him for anything
tonight, he can't ask his daddy to knot him no matter how much he wants to. He
doesn't want to make him uncomfortable, he wants to prove how fun his heats can
be. But he's not even at the peak yet and he's already near tears every time he
loses contact with his daddy. He might not be mentally capable of holding
anything back and that’s the most terrifying thing of all.
Derek is somehow a perfect gentleman even while he's still tied with Stiles. He
smooths his hands all over him just the way Stiles needs, murmurs little
praises at him that make Stiles flush and squirm where he lies, fits their
mouths together slow and easy when Stiles cranes his neck for kisses.
Stiles scarcely notices when Derek reaches around him and undoes his dad’s belt
one-handed.
His daddy's breathing is uneven and his face is tense, like this is something
scary. It makes Stiles ache for him.
“Stiles’ heart is usually the loudest and fastest in the room,” Derek says
softly. “But right now it’s yours. If you’d rather not--”
And as Stiles watches, his daddy reaches right past him to catch his fingers in
Derek’s hair and pull him into a kiss.
Derek’s knot has gone down enough for him to slip out of Stiles, but he doesn’t
do it right away. Stiles is vaguely aware of Derek's arms cinching around him
good and hard, Derek kissing his face and whispering it's okay, I'm right here,
we're still right here, is it okay if I... and not moving until Stiles manages
to make himself nod.
He can handle this, watching them together and maybe fingering himself to take
the edge off. If he really needs anything more, Derek and his daddy will drop
everything to help. It's a small sacrifice to make sure his daddy is taken care
of. Stiles is getting better about distinguishing between wants and needs.
It still takes every scrap of willpower not to whimper when Derek isn't inside
him anymore, but he manages. He needs to be good or else his daddy will worry
and his daddy is worried about so much already. Derek slides over Stiles,
moving his daddy onto his back and settling on top of him.
Derek puts a hand on his daddy’s chest to try and soothe him and his daddy just
pulls him in like he's drowning. It takes Stiles’ breath away, and then it gets
punched out of his lungs all over again when he hears his daddy grit, “sorry,”
against Derek's cheek in the same tortured voice as before. “you need to take
care of him, you shouldn't be--"
This time, Derek’s the one to cut off the conversation with a kiss. Even though
Stiles’ heat-muggy eyes, there’s no mistaking the way his daddy melts into it,
the way he’s still trying to lean into it when Derek draws back and says, "I
can do both."
Stiles really wants to fling himself over both of them and hold them until his
arms give out, but he gets that this probably isn't the time. He has to settle
for kissing blindly along Derek's arm. "Dad, everything's fine, I'm okay, we
just need you to be okay too."
Derek is so, so good at what he does, but he's also a genuinely sweet guy too;
Stiles would be an asshole to try and keep him all to himself. Stiles also
feels like his daddy needs Derek more, in a lot of ways.
Stiles bits his lips until they sting while Derek helps his daddy finish
undressing and they spend a long time just kissing and learning how their
bodies fit together. Or at least it seems like a long time to Stiles. This is
such a huge deal and he's trying to be patient instead of selfish, but he’s so
needy right now.
Then Derek starts mouthing his way down his daddy's middle and his whole world
freezes. This is actually happening. The look on his daddy’s face alone makes
Stiles whimper and rut his cock against the blankets.
“Do you like it, daddy?” he blurts out, not even caring how breathy and
desperate he sounds. “Does it feel good?” He's so happy for his daddy and so
excited about what Derek's doing for him, he doesn't have time to feel jealous.
But he still can't last more than a minute without touching or kissing one of
them, so he ends up squirming up to his side and nosing against his daddy’s
cheek. "Dad, are you okay?"
“Yeah,” his daddy breathes, broke, as Derek slides his mouth over his cock. The
sight of it is almost enough to distract Stiles from how empty he feels. He's
never gotten to see his daddy really fall apart like this, and now he’s
gripping at Derek’s hair and thrusting up into his mouth. And Stiles is right
there to hold him through it and watch the way he grips at Derek's hair and
turns his head against the pillow. He can hear Derek groaning for it just the
way he does when he goes down on him. It makes him shiver, makes him wonder if
they taste the same.
His daddy’s face is all screwed up like he's scared or angry but this time
Stiles knows better. This is his dad finally letting himself enjoy something,
and if that makes Stiles' throat get a little tight, he can blame it on his
hormones. The sounds his daddy's making are the greatest Stiles has ever heard,
like he's completely coming apart, like he can't believe how good it feels.
Stiles can sympathize with that. He can really sympathize with that. “It’s
okay,” he promises, face buried against his daddy’s neck, trying to say the
things he knows Derek would if his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied. Stiles
isn’t quite as good at speech when he's so worked up, though, so he’s not
capable of much beyond whispering daddy, daddy, daddy over and over, ending on
a little whimper each time.
Derek, amazing multitasker that he is, finds Stiles' hand and threads their
fingers together. Stiles really meant it when he asked if they could keep him.
He's rutting against his daddy's hip almost absently, just pure mindless
friction-seeking, and then his daddy's breath catches and he throws his head
back and groans, whole body going tense, half-arched off the bed, and Stiles
feels a wave of arousal course through him when he realizes his daddy is
flooding Derek's mouth with come.
It takes all his mental effort not to spontaneously melt into a puddle on the
spot, but he does manage a pleased little, "Told you so," between stringing hot
little kisses along his daddy’s jaw.
He has the best plans. Why is this so hard to believe?
His daddy just lets out this long, pleased sigh and brings a hand up to cradle
his head. His eyes are heavy and there’s a dazed look on his face. Stiles can
relate to that too, very well. Derek and his skill set are a force to be
reckoned with.
Even though he isn't going to deliberately take advantage of his daddy’s state,
he's not going to object when his daddy leans into his kisses either. And when
Derek lazily stretches out over his daddy to kiss him too, Stiles is right
there watching it happen, his own mouth wide open. Not just because it's hot as
hell, but also because his daddy doesn't flinch or hesitate at all: he slides
one of his hands into Derek's hair again and actually kisses him back
Seeing his daddy like this is just throwing fuel on the fire. Last time, John
didn't take anything off until Stiles was sleeping. They did shower together to
clean him off, but that was just necessity since Stiles was a mess and needed
to be taken care of. He knows it happened, but at the time he wasn't really
processing anything. He just remembers feeling happy and taken care of and then
being tucked into bed.
This time, though, his daddy is letting him see and feel a lot more. Just being
pressed against him is new and Stiles has been struggling not to drown. He's
trying to subtly move a hand between his legs and just tease a fingertip
against his hole even though the last thing he wants to do is spoil the moment,
The ache is just so bad now, and his body opens right up for it and he has to
bite down hard on his lip not to wail.
His daddy notices, of course. “Stiles, what’s the matter?”
The tenuous remains of Stiles’ self-control fly out the window when his daddy
strokes a hand down Stiles’ back. "I...I need something inside me."
It feels like his face is only a few degrees shy of setting the pillowcase on
fire, but it doesn't even occur to him to lie or even try and downplay it. His
own fingers aren't enough and there's slickness all over his inner thighs and
he just needs.
 
===============================================================================
 
===============================================================================
John manages to get through most days without letting himself think about
certain things. It’s a list that’s been getting steadily longer over the past
few months.
But lying here, cradling Stiles while Derek rocks against him from behind, John
forgets what he’s not supposed to be thinking about.
He could wait until Derek's knotted him again, until Stiles is dripping come
and still open and ready, and then just slip right into him. It would be so
easy, and given the state he’s in Stiles would gasp and spread his legs and
plead for more without hesitation. His face is burning, but that’s easy to pass
off as being drunk on a combination of heat pheromones and post-orgasmic bliss,
not on Stiles' body trembling against him and his hot little cheek pressing
right over John’s heart.
Then Derek reaches for him over Stiles' skinny shoulder and John loses track of
everything all over again.
He doesn't want to be selfish and take any of Derek's attention away from
Stiles tonight, but he does love Derek's kisses. Even though it's just kissing,
Derek is very thorough about it. He puts his whole body into it, cupping John’s
jaw, sliding his fingers into his hair, grazing his nails against his scalp.
John thinks of what he'd be capable of if he wasn't being mindful of Stiles
curled up between them, remembers that time on the couch and how easily he'd
forgotten everything except the feel of Derek’s mouth on his, and he knows he’s
groaning and probably clutching Derek too tightly but he can’t stop.
Derek must be enjoying himself too, since he lets out a pleased little growl.
Stiles isn’t the only one who has a thing for Derek letting his wolf side out
from under wraps. While he's tied to Stiles, Derek has a tendency to let his
eyes go red and his low, soothing words always have the hint of a rasp to them.
It takes John’s breath away.
Stiles is still squirming between them, trying to seek out friction. John’s
been blindly petting over him all this time and he forces his mouth away from
Derek’s so he can nudge it against Stiles' ear. “It’s okay, we’ve got you,
daddy’s got you.”
It’s supposed to be soothing, but just seems to be riling Stiles up even more.
John is still coming back down to earth--Derek’s mouth is amazing to begin with
and it’s been a long time since John’s had anyone pay him that kind of close
attention--but he feels guilty for not focusing fully on Stiles anyway. “Shh,
kiddo, we’re right here.”
He runs his hand down Stiles' back and his kid arches under him, trying to urge
his touch lower. “Please, daddy, just a finger.”
John kisses his forehead but Derek is the one who gives him exactly what he
needs. Derek’s already come in him once, and he must be so wet that Derek’s
fingers just slide right back in because he throws his head back and sobs. He’s
shaking so hard it makes John’s stomach go jagged with panic; he can hear Derek
hiss in sympathy at Stiles’ back.
He only means to kiss Stiles’ head again, to murmur praises in his ear and
hopefully help ease him back down to earth. The next thing he knows, Stiles’
lips are on his and John’s moaning so loudly he might be embarrassed under any
other circumstances.
Stiles’ mouth is hot and soft and he tastes delicious and that’s the tipping
point for John. He’s been wanting to learn what his boy tastes like for so
long. Stiles is licking into him with the greediness of youth, making hungry
little noises like he can’t get enough of it, then gasping when another of
Derek’s fingers pushes into him, stretches him open just the way he needs.
His body is begging for more stimulation, John doesn’t know how he’s
withstanding the urge to turn on his belly and be knotted again. Derek’s voice
is a hot, heat-blurred groan. “Stiles, are you doing okay?”
There’s a deep blush cresting Stiles' cheeks when he breaks away from John and
he’s beaming so intensely John could almost swear there’s an actual glow about
him. “Mm-hm, ’s good, really good.” Then, instead of turning onto his stomach
the way John expects him to, he’s glancing over his shoulder and biting his
lip. “Derek...do you like this too?”
Derek looks as surprised as John’s ever seen him. “I--sometimes.”
Stiles is still addressing Derek, but he’s looking John straight in the eye
now. “I bet daddy could make you feel good, too?” He twists around to nuzzle
Derek’s cheek, “Do you want him in you?”
And Derek looks at John with blazing red eyes and growls, "Yeah," all low and
wrecked-sounding. John never would have imagined this kind of response, even
though he’s wondered just what Derek likes for himself as opposed to what he
likes for the sake of the omegas he sees.
Stiles is kissing along his cheeks and chin, humming to him happily. “See? He
wants you in him so much, daddy. He’s been working really hard for us, we need
to look after him too.” And even though Stiles' nipples are hard peaks against
John’s chest and his slick little cock is leaking against his thigh, John
manages to untangle himself from him.
There’s still a bottle of lubricant left over from Stiles' last heat. The
second Stiles sees John picking it up, he shifts onto his back so he can hold
Derek against him. For his part, Derek lets out a low groan when John rubs
between his shoulders, right over the stark ink of his tattoo, and bluntly
says, “Whatever you need, I’ll do it. I just need to know if you’ve done this
before.”
“I’d--I’d use my fingers sometimes, just so I’d know what omegas liked. And,
um, sometimes I’d have a heat match whose heat went on too long and they needed
to take the edge off. So if they were too sore to...I’d...only a few times,
but...”
Of course he has. Anything for a client. John gives a wry quirk of his mouth.
It’s occurred to John before that Derek isn't really used to letting himself be
taken care of. His side job kind of requires the opposite. And he's good at
that, it's why it's so easy for him to be with John and Stiles, but it makes
John wonder if he’s ever really thought about needing it himself.
Even now, Derek still has two fingers pressed inside Stiles, doing something
that’s making him writhe and beg for more in a voice that's all rawness and
desperation. Derek's already knotted him once and Stiles is still so wet from
it, dripping both Derek's come and his own slickness. The scent of him is
making John dizzy; he can’t even fathom how Derek, with the acuity of his
werewolf senses, is even functioning right now.
“So you’ve done it because you felt like you should,” John says. “But do you
actually want this?”
Derek looks him right in the eye and nods.
John could subject him to the best kind of torture this way. He could slowly
work his fingers in him while he was buried deep inside Stiles, so he kept
coming and coming and filling Stiles up while he knotted him nice and tight.
But one thing none of them need at this juncture is torture of any kind.
Somehow, Stiles manages to focus on something other than how ferociously his
heat is burning through him. His skinny hips are still rolling steadily,
working himself on Derek’s fingers, and he sounds so young and earnest when he
buries kisses in Derek’s hair and mumbles, “He’ll be nice and slow and he'll
feel so amazing in you, Derek, I swear.”
“Anything you need,” John says again, a little surprised at how steady he
sounds, and feels the warmth of Derek’s flush against his lips when he kisses
his cheek.
It’s transparently obvious Stiles doesn’t want Derek to regret his decision. He
keeps petting his hair and making sure John’s using enough lube. It’s not
micromanaging, John understands that much; he just wants everything to be as
good for Derek as it is for him.
John is just as gentle, he works Derek open as carefully as he can and keeps
smoothing down his back. "Doing okay?”
Derek’s been steadily finger-fucking Stiles all the while, which John can’t
help being impressed with. The second John kisses his shoulder and eases a
second finger into him, though, all his powers of multitasking seem to fly out
the window.
He freezes and gasps and Stiles' arms are around him in an instant, guiding his
head down against one of his own shoulders. "Dad, go easy, we need to take care
of him."
If anyone is the caretaker in this relationship, it's Stiles. He's been looking
after John for years and he hasn’t missed a beat bringing Derek into the
equation. With Derek leaning his head on his shoulder, his ear is close enough
for Stiles to give it a nip. "Hey, c’mon, look at me. Are you all right? How
does it feel?"
Derek breathes hard a few times, in and out. John thinks he’s about to have a
panic attack and his heart leaps into his throat for a second before he
realizes Derek is just trying to ground himself enough to speak without
stuttering. "Feels really good, baby," he breathes, and Stiles grins into his
hair.
And John is kissing Derek's nape while Stiles pets through his hair, murmuring
reassurances to him as best he can with his mind still clouded by his heat.
He's not to the point where the need is overwhelming--John reckons he's getting
better about gauging how much his body needs and how soon it's going to need
more--so he has enough clarity to scratch his nails along Derek's scalp and
whisper, "Can you knot me now? I just just wanna make sure you get what you
need too."
If John wasn’t already losing his mind, this would probably be the tipping
point. He slides his other hand between Derek’s thighs, relishing the way he
groans when John strokes along the length of his cock. The angle is too awkward
to allow for it, but he wishes he could help Derek guide himself into Stiles a
second time.
It makes him grit his teeth as Derek clenches even tighter around his fingers,
trying to fuck himself back on them even as he’s easing himself into Stiles.
John can’t help remembering how this felt when it was Stiles spreading his legs
and whimpering for more, how he could hardly even breathe he needed John inside
him so badly.
And when Derek cranes his neck to catch him in a kiss, there’s no missing it
when he whispers, “You can knot me too, I can handle it.”
John bites down on a moan, trying to gather his wits before he speaks. "Do you-
- I mean, we have condoms, if you'd rather. I'm… I'm shooting blanks, but if
you don't want the mess--"
He almost laughs when Derek and Stiles simultaneously say, "No," and then Derek
does laugh, a low, warm rumble against Stiles' neck.
"No condom," he says, and he sounds so sure, it takes John's breath away.
He knows he’s speaking when he slides inside Derek, mindlessly murmuring to
them both about how well they’re doing, reminding himself over and over that he
has to go slowly with Derek, that Derek doesn't have a hormonal imperative
making him crazy for this. It takes him a moment to realize Stiles is still
speaking too, then a few moments more to register the things he’s saying.
He tells himself Stiles is just soothing Derek the way John’s been all along.
Just telling him how good he feels inside him, asking him if he feels good too,
if he needs to stop. This is a pretty new situation for Derek; Stiles could
merely be showing concern.
So when Stiles asks if he feels full, if daddy feels big inside him, he's
really just making sure Derek isn't hurting.
And when Derek growls, yeah, really big, feels so good, baby, Stiles is just
moaning because he likes Derek's voice like that, likes being called baby,
likes it when Derek is enjoying himself. It's nothing to do with imagining how
it must feel to be stretched around John’s cock.
And when Stiles asks for it harder, it's a coincidence that John is the one who
thrusts, and it's just the chain reaction that makes Stiles sob, makes him
clench around Derek's cock, makes him sweat and drip and cry.
Stiles is still on his back with Derek between his legs and John behind Derek,
so he can see both of them even though John spends most of his time with his
face pressed against Derek's nape. It isn’t just because it's hard for him to
acknowledge everything that's happening here, it's just been so long since he
felt this close to another person. Derek, forever in comfort mode, is managing
to soothe them both, even now. John's self-control is the result of lifelong
practice; he’s always has his emotions close to the surface just like Stiles,
but Derek stabilizes him, both of them.
So when John trembles--surely Derek knows that motion, he's felt it under him
so many times, from so many omegas close to the breaking point in desperation--
he tilts his head back and kisses him, whispers into his mouth. “Breathe, keep
breathing, you're okay, you're so good.”
It's really no different from what John’s heard him say to Stiles, the same
tone, the same soothing hand on his neck. Derek kisses him again, and John
breaks away on a gasp because Stiles has reached up and threaded his fingers
into his hair. When John looks down, Stiles is staring straight up at him from
over Derek’s shoulder, eyes glazed and shining with tears of overstimulation.
"Feels so good, daddy," Stiles whimpers, and John groans like a dying man.
Derek must know he's just an intermediary right now, but he doesn't seem to
mind. He nuzzles at Stiles' neck and lets him paw at John, because it’s
painfully obvious Stiles needs this so fucking badly. And, while John’s more
guarded, he doubts anyone could miss how much he needs it too.
He doesn’t know which of them comes first. Everything is effortlessly good, a
smooth grind of bodies against bodies. John mouths the salt-sharp loops and
arches of Derek’s tattoo over and over, and Stiles’ skinny little fingers stay
tangled in his hair all the while. When he feels his knot beginning to swell,
it drags a shaky gasp out of Derek that makes John groan long and low against
his nape. His nails bite into Derek’s hips from the effort of holding himself
back from thrusting into him as hard and deep as possible.
When John’s vision clears, Stiles doesn’t look all that comfortable but he has
the most beatific smile on his face.
“Can you even breathe?” John asks. “Is everything okay?”
Stiles’ smile gets a bit wider. “Everything’s great.”
They doze for a little while, until they’re able to disengage and sprawl out.
John is only distantly aware of Derek maneuvering his way into the middle, the
better to keep an eye on them both.
His hand is cool against John’s cheek. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“I’m assuming,” Derek says delicately, “you hadn’t done that for a while. It
can take a lot out of you. I’m just checking in.”
It’s the sort of borderline invasive yet surprisingly touching thing John
doubts anyone but Derek could ask with the right degree of sensitivity. For
that alone, John has to take advantage of being face to face with him and ease
their mouths together for a few long seconds.
“The last time was a few years ago,” he admits when they draw apart,
“and...yeah, you’re right, but I’m fine.”
That makes Stiles, suddenly wide awake, snap his head up from the pillows.
"With who?" he demands.
John doesn’t even have a chance to hide the abashed look on his face.
Stiles gapes. "Oh my god, that alpha with the weird mustache? You told me you
weren't going to see him again. Dad."
“Hey,” John protests automatically. “His mustache wasn't weird and technically
I didn't see him again. How the hell do you even remember this? You were about
ten years old.”
Stiles looks wounded. “I always remember these things.”
John shouldn’t have bothered asking. Even before his first heat, Stiles was
always possessive of him. He used to terrorize his babysitters when John
decided to start braving the dating scene. There were only so many alphas who
have a preference for other alphas, and only so many of those John would
consider giving a chance. He knew he had to settle for what he could get, but
no one ever met Stiles' standards. By now, Stiles is old enough to realize
this, even though he probably finds it pretty sad. John can’t exactly fault him
for that, though.
The more he thinks about it, the clearer it becomes: Derek is exactly what both
of them needed.
Derek is the one who takes Stiles’ disgruntled face in his hands and reminds
him that he's never been lonely for years at a time, he's never had to settle
for "good enough" just to help himself try to move on, and John has.
Stiles looks like he’s on the verge of pouting, but he acquiesces with a sigh.
"I don't want you to be lonely," he mutters at last.
It cuts John to the quick. His kid has always tried so hard to be there for
him. He never wants Stiles to think he isn’t enough.
“I’m not,” John tells him, gathering him up in his arms and breathing in the
warm, sweet scent of both him and Derek. “I promise, I’m not.”
End Notes
     Regarding the gratuitous barebacking: so my headcanon here is that
     John had a vasectomy after Claudia died since he decided she and
     Stiles were the only family he'd ever need. They'd had to try so hard
     to even have Stiles to begin with and he just couldn't see himself
     going through that again.
     But really it's just an excuse for more bodily fluids. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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