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What Goes Around, Comes Around

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For all that Derek has been present, he still isn’t quite sure how he keeps ending up like this. With Stiles on his left and Scott on his right, with his hand on Scott’s dick and Stiles’ large hand on his own dick. The room is quiet save for their rapid breathing, the slap of skin on skin on more skin, and the occasional moan when someone flicks their wrist just right. The loud thudding bass from the party going on below reminds Derek that Boyd is still in the house and could walk in at any minute -- that any of their other frat brothers could walk in at any minute -- so Derek speeds up his hand just a little more.

Derek is the first to admit he underestimated Scott and Stiles the first time he saw them at the pledge week mixer. They both looked like the typical freshmen looking to join a frat for free booze and women. What Derek wasn’t expecting was Stiles sitting down with him and having a never-ending conversation about Thomas Aquinas and natural law and its influence on modern philosophy. What Derek didn’t expect was Scott, volunteering to help with any and all philanthropic events just because he cared so much. So, yeah, the backwards caps and the flannel over the funny screen printed tees threw Derek off, but he certainly never thought he’d fall for them both.

Even now, with one hand on Scott, Derek needs more; he reaches over, places his free hand on Stiles’ neck, and traces the same three moles over and over with his thumb. Stiles is flushed, and maybe a little bit later Derek can convince him to let Derek and Scott come all over his face, cover all his beautiful moles with their jizz. The visual makes his dick twitch, and Stiles feels it and applies just a little bit more pressure, and Derek can’t stop the moan that escapes.

“Shit, what are you thinking about?” Stiles looks over at Derek, and all Derek can see is the thin sheen of sweat forming on Stiles’ forehead. Stiles is still wearing his backwards baseball cap, and it’s almost ridiculous, but it makes for a beautiful picture -- just as beautiful a picture as Scott makes with Derek’s hand around him. Derek loves the stark contrast of Scott’s tanned skin next to his own paler tone. It drives him wild to see all that toned muscle.

“Just thinking about how I want me and Scott to come all over your face. Wanna see those moles covered, wanna see Scott lick you clean while I suck you.”

“Shit-” Stiles groans out.

“Fuck-” Scott stops breathing for a minute.

“Hey Derek, can you not say shit like that while Scott has his hands on my dick?”

“Oh fu-, did I hurt you?” Scott asks.

“No, no, I just, you stopped for a second and please Scotty, don’t stop, I’m so close.”

Derek tears his eyes away from Stiles’ dick and thinks about how he wishes he had more eyes so he could watch both Scott and Stiles come undone. Stiles speeds up his hand and that’s it, Derek can’t hold back anymore; he comes all over his chest and Stiles’ hand, but he has no time to catch his breath. He remembers that he still has Scott in his hand, so he picks up his pace, applies more pressure to the thick vein under the head of Scott’s dick, and that’s it for Scott. Stiles comes right after Scott and accidently squeezes Derek a little too tightly because Stiles still has him; Stiles likes coming from a hand on his dick with another dick in his hand.

Derek slows down but doesn’t remove his hand, even when Scott grunts after Derek has coaxed his orgasm out of him. They’re all breathing loudly, the music from the party below fading out of existence.

Stiles finally lets go while Scott flops on to his back on the floor next to a pair of underwear that Derek can’t even remember if they’re his or Stiles’.

Derek remembers being disappointed after learning that Scott and Stiles were a thing. He remembers thinking it was probably for the best, because then he wouldn’t have to choose between the two; he remembers not thinking it was ever a possibility he could have both.

“Is Boyd downstairs at the party?” Scott asks, his breathing still pretty uneven.

“Yeah, but he said he was going to end up going back to Erica’s tonight.”

“Sweet. Do you want us to stay?”

“Of course.” Derek stands, his legs shaky as he kicks away the basketball shorts still hanging off from one ankle. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up, and after, we can push the beds together-”

“Boyd won’t mind?” Derek looks at Scott and smirks.

“What Boyd doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

Stiles laughs and takes Derek’s hand.

“I can’t wait til next year. The three of us sharing a room… can we push our beds together then, too?”

Before Derek can answer, his brain still stuck on the idea of that -- of the three of them being a more permanent thing -- Scott answers. “Duh, what you think? We’re all going share a room and not sleep together? We all know you and Derek love to cuddle.”

“And what, you don’t?” Stiles replies indignantly. Scott just blushes, a faint red, barely visible in the dim light of Derek’s room at the frat house.

Derek heads over to his dresser and pulls out the package of wipes he has stored in there. He learned a long time ago that masturbating and then making his way to a communal bathroom was not in his best interests. Derek pulls out a couple and tosses the pack to Scott, who then hands it over to Stiles. Derek gets a pang in his chest watching them wipe away all their come, cursing himself for not licking them clean himself.

When they’re all clean, or as clean as they can be with baby wipes, they push Derek and Boyd’s beds together. Stiles removes all of Boyd’s sheet and blankets, so he doesn’t come home to find them soiled and then try to kill them all.

They prop up Derek’s laptop up on some of his old textbooks and settle in while Stiles searches for the episode of Game of Thrones they left off at. Scott settles in next to him, and Derek lifts his arm to pull Scott flush to him while they wait for Stiles to push play. Stiles chooses to lay down and rest his head on Derek’s leg, Scott unconsciously running his hand through Stiles short hair.

“Next year, promise me we’ll get a TV. It’s truly an injustice to have to look at Kit Harington’s face on such a tiny screen.”

Derek laughs out loud then, remembers that first time, Scott hesitating slightly before coming in for a kiss, Stiles watching wide-eyed as Derek kissed back. Remembers his shock, pulling away and almost leaving before Stiles grabbed him and pulled him in for a kiss, too. Remembers sitting down on the floor of his bedroom, the three of them forming a tight circle and touching and exploring until they couldn’t wait any more.

Even though he was there, he still can’t understand how it happened, but then again, it doesn’t really matter now that he’s here with both of them.

“I promise,” Derek says.