Warnings: Peter/Chris/Derek. Explicit.
Peter had Chris exactly where he wanted him, on his back, hands curled behind Chris’s knees and holding him open. And Chris was perfect: desperate, noisy, close to coming, his hands curled around Peter’s arms, blunt nails digging into his skin. There wouldn’t be any marks, but Peter delighted in receiving them. He groaned when he felt Chris squeeze around his cock, and he snarled, digging his knees into the mattress, driving his cock into Chris’s tight hole hard enough to skid the platform bed across the cement floor.
“Goddamn it, oh you fuck,” Chris hissed, teeth clenched.
Peter laughed, looking down at him. The man was always controlled, so to see him like this and to be the cause of making Chris lose his control, the heady rush of power that went through Peter was nearly as good as being an Alpha.
“Come on, finish me off, Pete. Before—uh, yes, fuck!”
Before Derek returns, he knows that’s what Chris was going to say.
They shouldn’t do this in Derek’s loft or in Derek’s bed, but Peter was an opportunist and Chris had smelled of misery and pain. So while the others had left for the night, Derek going out to do his nightly patrol, Peter had asked Chris to wait behind for a moment and kissed him. The misery and pain were still there, but there was arousal and comfort and guilt. The mixture sang to something feral inside Peter, an awakened sense that the fire had brought out, that he could only cleanse while he was inside Chris.
He smiled when Chris dropped his hands to the bed, grabbing the sheets, rolling his head on the pillow under him.
A part of Peter seethed with glee that Chris’s scent would be soaked into Derek’s bed; that his den would stink of the two of them long after they left.
“Fuck,” Chris said, breathlessly. “Yes, fuck, you fucker, yes.”
It was thrilling to watch Chris let go; to see him give over to pleasure, to submit under Peter. They didn’t always like each other, but there was just enough trust between them that Chris would show his neck to Peter. It was only show, not offer. Chris would never truly offer his submission; but he had no qualms teasing Peter with the possibility of it.
Peter let go of Chris’s legs, feeling them wrap around him. He fell to his elbows over the hunter and kissed him hungrily, taking Chris’s breath and his moans.
And then he heard it – Derek’s heartbeat – right outside the loft door. Heard the thumps increase; felt the heat of Derek’s arousal across the room. Peter hid his smile against Chris’s neck, reaching between them to curl his hand around Chris’s cock, stroking him fast and hard, keeping Chris’s attention completely in the moment, completely on Peter.
“Such a good boy,” Peter crooned into Chris’s ear, knowing that Derek would hear it, too. “Such a good boy. Don’t you want to come for me?”
“Jesus,” Chris gritted out, arching his neck. “Yes. Fuck you. Yes!”
Peter slid his fist up to the head of Chris’s cock and just held him there, keeping him on that edge, holding Chris down with his body as Chris twisted and writhed under him, trying to get the friction he needed.
“Don’t stop,” Chris said, grunting under Peter’s strength. The hunter was strong, but not stronger than Peter. Not strong enough to get his way without Peter’s cooperation. “Please, Pete, don’t stop.”
He gripped Chris’s hands, pressed them on the bed by his head. “Patience, Christopher.”
“You just like it when I beg,” Chris said, opening his eyes to look at him.
Peter felt Chris’s gaze shift from him to over his shoulder, a quick gasp of surprise falling from his lips.
“Oh fuck,” he whispered. He went completely limp under Peter, legs uncurling slowly, feet on the mattress.
Peter heard Chris’s heartbeat quicken, his body tightening and preparing in a fight-or-flight response. He didn’t feel any shyness or shame, felt his cock twitch and harden even more inside Chris. Peter turned, looking over his shoulder to see Derek standing near the bed, staring at them.
He let go of one of Chris’s hands and held it out towards Derek.
Chris inhaled sharply, trembling under Peter.
Derek’s eyes drifted over Peter, looked slowly up at Chris, and then back at Peter’s hand. He met Peter’s gaze, his face expressionless, and eyes dark. Peter didn’t know what Derek would do. For once, his nephew was unpredictable, and it was exciting, waiting for Derek to make a decision.
Slowly, Derek raised his hands, grabbing his shirt from behind his neck. He pulled it off and down his arms, tossing it lightly to the loft floor. He toed out of his boots and pulled off his black socks. He walked towards them and reached out, hesitantly, placing his hand in Peter’s, his grip firm as Peter pulled him gently towards them.
Derek licked his lips, his voice gravely soft. “You sure?”
Peter turned and looked at Chris, raising his eyebrows, waiting for him to consent. Chris looked at him, then looked up at Derek, and met Peter’s eyes with a single nod.
“Get over here, Derek,” Chris said, authoritatively.
Derek smirked, placed his knee on the bed, and grabbed a handful of Peter’s hair, jerking his head back sharply.
“Jesus. Yeah,” Chris murmured, his hand stroking up and down Peter’s thigh.
Peter groaned, feeling Derek’s mouth hot and wet against his, the bristles of his beard scratching against his chin and cheeks.
He thrust into Chris, enjoying the way he squeezed around him, releasing a soft grunt as Peter slowly pulled out of him. Derek let go of him and licked his lips, running his hand down Peter’s chest, to his belly, wrapping a large hand around his cock and stroking him with a teasingly light hold.
Peter moaned, and Derek smirked, letting him go. He pushed Peter down and got off the bed, hands going to his jeans and undoing the button and zip, skinning the denim and briefs down his long legs, kicking them away. Peter looked at him, admiring the strength of his body to his uncut cock, hard and standing out in front of him. Derek knelt on the bed and ran his hand up Chris’s leg, looking down at the hunter.
Derek raised his eyebrows at Chris and Chris pulled up his knees, opening himself. Peter watched as Derek bent over, pressing his face against Chris’s groin, inhaling deeply. Chris closed his eyes and shook, reaching down to stroke Derek’s hair.
“Take him into your mouth,” Peter said, sliding his hand down Derek’s back.
He smirked when Derek gave him a look, narrowing his eyes in annoyance, but he complied and ran his tongue from the base of Chris’s cock to the tip, taking it into his mouth and sucking slowly and gently. Peter admired his technique as Chris hissed, falling back against the pillows, moaning deeply.
He ran his hand down Derek’s back, over the curve of his firm ass, to a meaty thigh. He trailed his fingernails through the dark hairs, smoothing his palm over Derek’s hip to fist his cock, stroking him firmly.
Derek moaned around his mouthful, eyes closing in pleasure. Chris grabbed a handful of Derek’s hair, urging him to go faster, deeper, moving his hips up and down urgently. His other hand went to stroke over Peter’s head and he smiled, leaning up to kiss Chris’s mouth, sucking on his tongue.
“He’s good with his mouth, isn’t he?” Peter murmured against Chris’s lips. He licked along Chris’s jaw to nip at his earlobe. “He was mine first; mine before Kate.”
Derek whimpered and Peter let go of Derek’s cock, caressing the back of his neck.
“Shhh, pup, don’t stop. Such a good boy.”
Chris groaned, eyes closed. “Jesus, Peter.”
“And now you’re both mine,” he said, pulling away and getting to his knees to reach for the lube that he had found in Derek’s bedside drawer. Gently, he pulled Derek off of Chris’s cock, shushing away Derek’s dissatisfaction, and pulled him up to kiss him, tasting Chris on his tongue mixed in with Derek’s familiar flavor. “Take him while I have you.”
He squeezed the lube into his own hand and gave the bottle to Derek. He slicked his cock again, watching as Derek prepped Chris carefully and then as Chris smiled up at him, moving his legs apart in invitation. Derek held his cock steady and then pressed slowly into Chris, voice breaking with his moans. He fell over Chris, strong arms holding him close as Derek whimpered, thrusting into Chris with short movements.
“Such a good pup,” Chris murmured against Derek’s ear, pulling his face towards him to kiss Derek, murmuring against Derek’s lips.
Peter moved behind Derek, hands slipping up the back of his shaking thighs, thumbs carefully parting him to look at his hole. It had been so long since Derek gave over his body and his pleasure to Peter. So many long years between them full of anger and frustration. Neither had made peace with how they felt, but Peter longed for closeness with Derek.
He pressed his mouth against Derek’s opening and sucked him gently, tonguing him with teasing licks and long thrusts inside. Peter nearly purred, licking him and licking him. He felt Derek quivering against his face – it wouldn’t take much to make him come – and Peter wanted to be inside of him when he did.
“Fuck him, Pete, he’s ready,” Chris ordered, nudging Peter’s thigh with his foot.
Peter growled and slipped his cock into Derek with a slow, long thrust. Derek groaned, hips shifting back to take more of him, thrusting forward deep inside Chris. Peter held himself up, meeting Chris’s steady gaze, and let Derek take what he wanted from them both.
“Ohmygod,” Derek whispered, pressing his forehead against Chris’s chest. “Peter, please—“
Peter grabbed his hips and pushed Derek so that he was as deeply embedded into Chris as he could physically be and began grinding against Derek’s ass.
Their groans mixed and echoed through the loft, ringing in Peter’s ears. He wanted to hear more; wanted to hear Derek’s high sobs and Chris’s low whimpers, Peter orchestrating all of their pleasure.
Derek rose up on his hands, arching his back against Peter’s chest, letting out a loud groan. He muscles locked and when Peter pulled back and thrust into him hard, Derek shuddered, head dropping forward submissively. Peter bit the back of his neck and began to fuck him hard, like the way that he wanted, and rode him down when Derek’s arms gave out, both of them collapsing over Chris.
He let go of Derek’s neck and grunted, fucking Derek and fucking Chris, feeling Derek shatter between them, coming hard as he shook in pleasure. Peter gritted his teeth and flung his head back, letting go, Derek squeezing around him, bringing him off. He cried out against Derek’s damp shoulder and panted breathlessly, looking up at Chris to see him watching them.
“I’m not finished with you, Christopher,” he growled, rearranging a limp, purring Derek, so that Peter could grab Chris’s cock between them. He smirked, feeling Chris hard and wet, and stroked him quickly, thumbing the head. Derek groaned, semi-consciously, when Chris thrust his hips upward into Peter’s tight grip. Peter watched avidly as Chris grabbed for one of Derek’s hands, eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched, deep throaty moans filling the loft as he came, spurting against Peter’s fingers.
“Fuck,” Chris drawled out, gasping for breath and collapsing on the bed.
Peter chuckled, gentling his strokes, determined to squeeze out every last drop of come and every last shudder of pleasure from his lover.
Chris batted his hand away and groaned, trying to escape from under Derek’s weight. Peter grinned, taking Derek by the hips and pulling him out and away, tucking him against Chris’s side. He fell on the bed and Derek crawled over him, eyes still closed, the roughness of his beard scratching against Peter’s skin.
“Jesus, the kid weighs a ton,” Chris said, chuckling.
“I do not,” Derek muttered, swatting at Chris’s hip.
Peter let out a breathless, contented sigh, enjoying the feel of them curled against him, sweat damp and come everywhere. It was perfect.
Derek was pressing warm, sleepy kisses against his hip now, one hand stroking Peter’s leg, the other still holding onto Chris’s hand. He drifted, encased in the warmth of his pack, and dreamily wondered what it would be like to be an Alpha to these two men.
“Derek! You here?”
“Shit,” Derek muttered, getting off of them and scrambling out of bed, grabbing his jeans off the floor.
Stiles opened the door to the loft and stepped inside. “Derek, have you seen—“
Peter watched as the young human froze, his mouth falling open as he stared at Peter and Chris in bed, at Derek’s naked body as he quickly got into his jeans, and then back to the state of the destroyed bed – sheets on the floor, mattress ripped to shreds – must’ve been from Derek’s claws. Neither he nor Chris bothered to cover up and they both let Stiles look his fill. Peter watched as the gears in Stiles’s head put it together, his cheeks flushing a bright red under his pale skin. He was surprised by the scent of sourness and anger coming from the younger man.
That certainly explained a lot, Peter thought, cocking his head at Stiles.
“Well, that explains that,” Stiles muttered, turning and nearly running out of the loft.
“Stiles!” Derek called after him, shoving his feet into his boots and rushing across the room. “Stiles, wait!”
Peter stared at the ceiling and laughed, sighing deeply.
“What’s so funny?”
“Young love,” he murmured, turning his head to look at Chris. “We were never that confused or stupid, were we?”
Chris snorted. “Don’t be a dick. They’ll work for it if they want to make it.”
Peter turned on his side and propped up his head with his hand. “And what about us? Are we going to make it, Christopher?”
He watched as Chris grinned, small and private, his blue eyes sleepy with contentment. “Yeah. We’re going to make it.”
“Good,” he said, putting his head on Chris’s chest.