“I think he’s jealous,” Derek murmurs into Stiles’ ear after Jordan answers another of his questions irritably and walks away. Probably to take a breather in the quiet of the file room.
“What?” Stiles asks, turning a little so his shoulder brushes against Derek’s. “I figured he was pissed at us.”
“Nope,” Derek says confidently. Jordan hadn’t walked in on them having actual sex, but it had been a pretty close approximation. He’d had Stiles pressed up against the wall of the tiny, unused breakroom, his hips snug against Stiles’ ass, hands working at the front of Stiles’ jeans.
It wasn’t even the first time Jordan had found them there, relieving a little stress. But it was the first time he’d stopped and stared, and Derek had smelled—
“He’s definitely jealous,” he repeats.
“Maybe it’s not, like, specific. Maybe he’s just jealous of the amount of awesome sex we’re having. Hell, we sneak off to that breakroom often enough that I’d be jealous if I weren’t involved,” Stiles says quietly.
“No, I definitely think it’s specific. I think he’s jealous of you,” Derek says, a little smugly. “I think he wants to get fucked.” Every time Jordan’s walked in on them, it’s been Stiles who’s being fucked (or about to be fucked) and Derek’s payed attention to who Jordan’s gaze lingers on.
“Hmm,” Stiles says thoughtfully, flicks a glance Derek’s way. “I’m game if you are.”
“Wouldn’t have brought it up if I wasn’t,” Derek says mildly. Every now and again, they like to bring a third person into their sex life, usually just for a night. And Jordan seems like an ideal candidate, considering that they both like him and know him well.
Stiles nods. “I know you’ve got a case, and I have a near-mountain of paperwork, so. We do it right after work?”
“Only if he stays late,” Derek says.
“He doesn’t have anyone to go home to,” Stiles huffs. “He always stays late.”
It’s true, and it’s the reason Derek’s been worried about him. Lately Jordan’s been focusing more and more on work, and sometimes he fairly reeks of loneliness. Derek’s pretty taciturn, and he doesn’t like to pry into other people’s business for fear they’ll do the same to him, but he does wonder if Jordan’s no longer finding what he’s looking for in this town.
He doesn’t really know what to do about that, though.
He gives a nod to Stiles, then grabs his notebook and heads out the door.
Derek gets back to the station late, after his shift is technically over, but Stiles is of course still waiting for him. And Jordan’s still there at his desk, though it looks like he’s putting all of his case files away in preparation to leave, so that’s a good sign.
Stiles gives him a look when he walks in, along with a meaningful gesture that says hurry up. Derek just rolls his eyes. If they miss their chance tonight, there’s always another day, but Stiles is clearly feeling impatient. And Derek has to admit that he’d like to know soon, too.
He puts in his case notes and logs his time, and though he’s not really rushing, he still manages to finish before Jordan, who’s moved on to methodically loading his stapler.
Bored, for sure. If he turns us down, we should get him a cat or something, Derek thinks, frowning a little.
Stiles had stepped outside a few minutes ago, and Derek joins him there, leaning shoulder to shoulder against the back of the jeep.
Jordan comes out a little bit later, raising his eyebrows when he sees them. “Is this an intervention?” he asks cautiously.
“Nope,” Stiles says, shoving his elbow into Derek’s side before he can say anything. “This is a proposition.”
“I—what?” Jordan says the moment he realizes exactly what Stiles said.
“We want you to have sex with us,” Derek says, outwardly calm, but on the inside he feels overly bold and a little embarrassed. It’s not every day that you extend a sex invitation to your coworker. “If you’re interested.”
Jordan still looks taken aback, eyes wide as he looks between them, but manages to rally. “What, right now?”
“Whenever,” Stiles says with an easy shrug. “You have time to think it over, we’re not trying to rush you or anything. But let me tell you,” he says, giving Derek’s chest a pat. “This guy is amazing in bed. Just keep that in mind.”
Stiles’ heart doesn’t skip a beat, and Derek tries not to blush.
“I, um,” Jordan says, eyes on Derek and suddenly seeming to lose his bravado. “I’ll let you know.”
Then he turns and heads to his car at a pace that tries to be casual, but misses the mark by a wide margin.
“I think we got him,” Stiles says cheerfully, ducking under Derek’s arm and leaning against his chest. “And I’m thinking he especially wants to ride your dick.”
Derek silently agrees, even though it makes him feel arrogant. “You really think he’ll go for it?”
“Definitely,” Stiles says, nuzzling Derek’s neck. “Just wait and see.”
Jordan shows up at their door not two hours later, looking nervous and a little bit confused.
“Is this a yes?” Stiles asks the moment he answers the door, bouncing eagerly on the balls of his feet. At the look on Jordan’s face, he settles down. “Or are you still trying to decide?”
“I just—I guess I needed to make sure,” Jordan says, letting Stiles usher him inside, “that you really meant it.”
“Of course we did! You’re hot and awesome, and an overall great guy,” Stiles says, nudging him toward Derek. “And if you want a little preview, you can go make out with Derek on the couch.”
“That’s more like a preview for you, Stiles,” Derek says wryly, but he tries to put an inviting expression on anyway.
Jordan hesitantly steps closer, and Derek lightly tugs him down until Jordan’s pressed flush against him. He skims a hand along Jordan’s jaw to the back of his neck, pulls him in with the lightest pressure. He gives Jordan every opportunity to refuse, to break away, but he clearly doesn’t want to, and his scent is brightly interested underneath the nervousness.
Jordan takes a little gasp of air as Derek’s lips touch his, mouth softening against his own, and when his eyes flutter shut Derek’s follow suit.
He takes full advantage of the moment, letting his hands trace along Jordan’s back and shoulders, then settling them on Jordan’s hips, squeezing encouragingly as he deepens the kiss. Jordan makes a sound low in his throat, palms resting hotly against Derek’s chest, and Derek is just about to lean them backward and really get this going when Jordan breaks the kiss, breathing hard and looking a little flighty.
“Okay?” Derek asks, feeling a little breathless himself.
“I just—things don’t usually move this fast,” Jordan says apologetically, looking a little embarrassed. “I’m not used to it.”
“We’re not trying to rush you,” Stiles says from his spot on the coffee table, where he’s obviously been watching them. “We’re just excited about the prospect.”
“You know, I thought you guys were messing with me at first. You can both be,” he clears his throat awkwardly, “very distracting sometimes, and I thought you were calling me out on my…attraction.”
Derek doesn’t miss Jordan’s glance his way, knows it’s supposed to convey something like sorry you had to smell my lust.
He just doesn’t realize that Derek doesn’t mind one bit.
“No, we’re really glad you’re interested,” Stiles says. “Otherwise this would have been super awkward.” Then he grins and slides into Jordan’s lap, says, “Let me know if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
He pulls Jordan into a kiss, and Derek watches eagerly. They’ve picked up a third person a few times, but he never gets over the thrill of seeing Stiles in action. He’s just so good, and he always seems to know what to do to turn someone on.
And sure enough, Jordan is already moaning, hands tight on Stiles’ hips and dragging him in. Stiles grinds down encouragingly, fingers digging into Jordan’s shoulders, and when he pulls back just far enough to bite at Jordan’s lower lip, it sends a flash of heat through Derek.
“So,” Stiles says, trailing kisses down Jordan’s jaw and neck. “You want to do this? Or do you still need time to think it over?”
“It just, ah,” Jordan says, tilting his head back to give Stiles better access. “It seems weird to show up here at a set time to have sex, like it’s a fucking doctor’s appointment or something. And it’s even more awkward to discuss what, um, sex positions are on the table.”
Stiles pulls away with a smirk, fingers trailing along Jordan’s throat and down his chest. “What you’re really asking is, do we know that you want to bottom, right?”
There’s color high on Jordan’s cheeks, but he nods.
“Well, here’s the thing,” Stiles says, leaning in close again, like he’s telling a secret. “Derek and I make it work, but in reality, we both like to fuck more than we like getting fucked.” He lightly kisses Jordan’s lips. “So we’d love it if you bottomed for us.”
“Both of you top?” Jordan asks, eyes darting between them like he can’t quite believe it. “Both of you want to fuck me?”
Derek leans forward, distinctly aware of how hard his cock is in his jeans. “If you want that,” he says mildly. “But if you had something else in mind, that’s fine too.”
“No, I,” Jordan says, swallowing thickly. “I definitely want that.”
Derek grins, leans in and kisses Jordan’s neck, letting his teeth drag along Jordan’s skin. “Then come to bed with us,” he rumbles.
“Okay,” Jordan says, gasping when Stiles shifts on his lap. “Okay, let’s go.”
Stiles is off Jordan in a flash, extending a hand to help him off the couch, then keeping ahold to lead Jordan to the bedroom. Derek follows after them, enjoying the combined scent of their arousal.
He and Stiles shrug off their clothes as soon as they get there, mostly out of habit. But Jordan seems to take it as some sort of unspoken rule, and he starts getting undressed too. He manages to get his shirt and shoes off, but Stiles stops his hands when they move toward the front of his jeans.
“Let me,” Stiles says, nuzzling Jordan’s throat as his fingers tease at the waistband of Jordan’s pants.
“What’s up with you guys and your interest in my neck?” Jordan asks breathlessly, looking amused.
“Werewolf boyfriend’s been rubbing off on me. Both literally and figuratively,” Stiles says with a snort, and Derek rolls his eyes.
It’s true that Stiles has become more like a werewolf in bed over the years, but Derek’s pretty sure that has less to do with his behavior, and more to do with Stiles’ own kinks. He certainly doesn’t mind, though. Not at all.
Derek steps up behind Jordan, kissing his shoulders as Stiles works Jordan’s jeans down. They drop low enough to reveal his ass, clad only in boxer-briefs, and Derek cups it appreciatively. Jordan’s hips buck after a moment, and Derek knows it’s because Stiles has taken him in hand.
And Stiles has very good hands.
Jordan’s heart is racing, so Derek starts rubbing his palms along his broad back, hoping for something between soothing and sensual. “Nothing will happen that you don’t want to happen,” he says, because he knows he can be intimidating sometimes.
Jordan huffs out a laugh. “It’s not that. I’ve just, uh, thought about this a lot. And I can’t believe it’s really happening.”
“Believe it,” Stiles says, and swings Jordan away from Derek before pushing him back on the bed.
Jordan laughs as he hits the mattress, and only stops when Derek covers him with his body, grinding their hard cocks together. “So,” he says, after giving Jordan a long, intense kiss. “Who do you want to fuck you first?”
Jordan shoves up against him, hands holding tight to Derek’s biceps like a lifeline, and gasps out, “You. I want you.”
“Wise decision,” Stiles says from somewhere nearby. “It’ll warm you up for my dick.”
Jordan glances over at that, and Derek knows he’s gotten a good look by the way his eyes widen.
Stiles isn’t abnormally huge, not by any stretch, but he’s definitely longer and thicker than most. Including Derek himself. And when he’s in the mood for riding it, he always comes so hard.
“Guess I’d need to be,” Jordan says, sounding excited by the prospect, and Derek muffles a laugh against his shoulder.
He looks up again when he hears Stiles make a soft sound, and sees that Jordan has reached out and started to stroke him.
Since Jordan is well occupied, Derek moves back enough to pull Jordan’s pants and underwear all the way off, then grabs the lube on his way back.
He carefully fingers Jordan open while Stiles, crouched next to him on the bed, distracts him with kisses. And his dick, apparently. Still, once Derek gets three fingers in Jordan starts paying attention to him again. He spreads them, pleased at how relaxed Jordan is, at how much he seems to be enjoying this.
“You want me to fuck you bare, or with a condom?” Derek asks. Even though he can’t spread anything, he still respects people’s choices.
“Bare,” Jordan says with no hesitation. He bends his legs further and arches up. “Now,” he adds eagerly.
Derek smirks, watches Jordan’s face as he pulls his fingers out slowly. Then he settles over Jordan, letting his slick cock tease at his inner thighs and the cleft of his ass before finally lining up. Jordan slings his legs over Derek’s back, hooking his ankles together and pressing down encouragingly as Derek starts to push inside him.
Jordan takes his cock beautifully, eyes closed and head tipped back as Derek slides all the way in. He feels amazing surrounding Derek like this, and he finds himself enthralled by the expression of pleasure on Jordan’s face.
When he loops his arms around Derek’s shoulders and shifts experimentally, the sensation makes Derek growl, and his fangs are out before he even realizes it.
“Feels that good, huh?” Stiles says, and strokes a hand along Derek’s side, grounding him. “Can’t wait for my turn.”
“You probably won’t have to wait that long,” Derek says honestly. The combined smell of Stiles and Jordan’s arousal, along with Derek’s primal urge to just rut into Jordan, means he’s probably not going to last long at all.
But he needs to move, because staying still inside Jordan is only teasing both of them. He starts to thrust, trying to keep a steady pace to build up Jordan’s pleasure, too. Jordan’s making that difficult, though, as he continually changes his rhythm, twisting his hips and arching up into Derek just right, legs pulling Derek in deep on every stroke.
And he’s relentless about it, at least until he gets sidetracked.
Stiles is still crouched next to them, but he’s jerking himself now, and Jordan is having none of it. He reaches out and grabs hold of Stiles’ thigh, pulling him in close until Stiles’ cock is right there next to his face.
“Don’t come,” he says, and Derek sees Stiles shiver at the commanding tone. He squeezes at the base of Stiles’ dick for emphasis. “I mean it,” he warns.
“Okay, I won’t,” Stiles says quickly, just before Jordan’s lips wrap around him.
The force of Derek’s thrusts are moving him in little erratic jolts, but he seems to be managing a very good blowjob in spite of that. Stiles’ hands are buried in his hair, and the look on his face says as much about what he’s feeling as the low moans escaping his mouth.
It’s an awkward angle for Jordan, and Derek figures he can’t keep it up for long. He doesn’t have to, though. Watching them makes a heat spread through him, centering low in his belly, and lends his thrusts an edge of desperation.
Jordan obviously notices, because he takes his mouth off of Stiles and says, “I want you to come inside me.”
Derek growls at that. He wants nothing more than to bury himself deep inside Jordan and pump him full. Jordan’s only stroking Stiles now, so Derek allows himself to get rougher, increasing the pace to something he knows will get him off. He digs his knees into the bed and fucks hard into Jordan, feeling his whole body strain toward orgasm, stomach drawing tight as the pleasure builds.
He drops down lower, presses his face against Jordan’s neck as he drives forward the last few times before he shudders and comes, hips bucking as shoves himself in deep and pulses inside him.
He stays like that for a few moments, panting and coming down from the high of an amazing orgasm, before he carefully moves off Jordan and slumps on his side.
Jordan grins at him, color high on his cheeks, then looks back at Stiles and tugs on his cock with firm strokes. “Your turn,” he says.
Stiles moves immediately, settling himself between Jordan’s spread legs. When he leans forward Jordan’s eyes flutter shut, and Derek leans up far enough to see that Stiles is playing with Jordan’s hole, stretching him and spreading a little of Derek’s come around.
“You want me to come inside you too?” Stiles asks, grabbing the lube and slicking his cock up.
“Yes,” Jordan says, shifting impatiently.
“Do you have, like, a come kink, or something?” Stiles asks curiously.
“No,” Jordan says. “I just like making people orgasm.”
“That’s a good hobby to have,” Stiles says with a grin, then slides inside.
“Oh,” Jordan moans out, body tensing, and Stiles stops.
“Too much?” he asks.
“Not at all,” Jordan says, lifting his hips. “It just felt really good.”
“I knew you’d like it,” Derek says, pleased, and kisses Jordan’s shoulder. “He’ll make you come quick.”
It’s kind of addictive to feel Jordan’s skin under his lips, so he keeps going, working his way over to Jordan’s chest.
“You, ah, you got me pretty close,” Jordan gasps out to Derek, as Stiles sits back and pulls Jordan’s hips up onto his thighs.
Derek likes that position, likes the way Stiles’ hands look gripping Jordan’s legs, likes the flex of Stiles’ abs as he thrusts inside. He watches for a while, because it’s beyond hot, but he eventually manages to drag his gaze away.
He returns to the place he left off, pausing to tease at Jordan’s nipples before making his way further south. He spends a lot of time on Jordan’s stomach, teasing him with the rasp of his beard, followed by the softness of his lips and tongue. He can’t always tell if the noises Jordan makes are for him or for Stiles, but Jordan’s hand repeatedly squeezing the back of his neck tells him he’s doing something right.
That grip gets tighter when he finally arrives at his goal, opening his mouth around the head of Jordan’s cock. He has to account for the fact that Stiles is moving Jordan, just a little, to make sure no teeth catch the sensitive skin, so he decides to keep himself still and just provide suction.
He can tell it’s not enough, though, by the way Jordan lifts and squirms, trying to get deeper into Derek’s mouth while simultaneously trying to keep Stiles deep inside him. Derek pulls far enough away to grin up at Stiles, then gives a few teasing licks to Jordan’s dick before taking him back in, bobbing his head as he does.
He puts a hand on Jordan’s thigh, fingers brushing against Stiles’, so he can keep track of the changes in pace. Stiles is holding pretty well, managing to stay fast and steady, but Derek knows it’s only a matter of time. Fucking Jordan feels too good to last.
He knows that all Stiles wants is for Jordan to come first, and Derek is certainly willing to help with that. He presses his tongue firmly against Jordan’s cock as he moves, giving him the friction he needs. Jordan’s hips stutter, losing the rhythm of Stiles’ thrusts, and his hand moves to tug at Derek’s hair; a warning.
Derek doesn’t need it, though. He wants to taste Jordan, wants to feel his orgasm, so he only sucks harder, moaning a little in encouragement. Only moments after that, Jordan’s body just sort of seizes up, thighs clenching and hips tilting as he comes in Derek’s mouth in long waves.
Derek eagerly swallows it down, eyes closed, tongue sliding across the head of Jordan’s cock to make sure he gets every drop. It’s then that he hears Stiles making the sounds that mean he’s close. He manages to drag his eyes open in time to see Stiles’ last desperate push toward orgasm, and watches as he slams into Jordan and comes with a profound expression of relief.
He likes to tease himself, to milk his orgasm for all it has, so he keeps moving, slower and slower, until he can’t take any more and shudders to a stop.
Derek moves out of the way, and Stiles lets himself gently collapse onto Jordan, breathing out a sigh of contentment. Derek stretches out alongside them, cheek pressed to Jordan’s shoulder, and enjoys the afterglow.
Stiles, being who he is—even an orgasm can’t keep him quiet and still for long—is the first to speak. “Mmm, that went better than I could have even imagined. You were an excellent addition,” he says, words muffled against Jordan’s neck. He’s made no attempt to move, but Jordan doesn’t seem to mind, if the way his arms encircle Stiles’ waist is anything to go by. “If you ever want to do that again, let us know. We are so game for that.”
Derek grins a little, because it’s true. Jordan makes a little sound of agreement and his eyes blink open, meet Derek’s, then slide shut again. He looks more relaxed than Derek’s seen in a long time. He settles a hand on Jordan’s hip, and says to Stiles, “I think we wore him out.”
“Wore me out too,” Stiles says, and Derek can hear the smile in his voice.
“Jordan, you don’t have work tomorrow, do you?” Derek asks.
“Nope,” Jordan says sleepily.
“Me either. Stiles just has an afternoon shift, which is nice because no one has to get up early.” Then he inches even closer, until his whole body is pressed along Jordan’s. He hopes Jordan understands what he’s trying to say: don’t worry about leaving, you can stay. You can stay.
Stiles’ hand comes over, touches along Derek’s shoulder before dropping lower to rest against his side. Not much longer after that, Derek falls asleep.
Much later, after Jordan has left and Stiles is getting dressed for work, he turns to Derek with narrowed eyes and says, “You planned that whole thing, didn’t you?”
Derek gives Stiles his best innocent look, doesn’t say anything.
“I mean, you suddenly wanting to do all those quickies at work—” Stiles starts.
“You wanted them too, last I checked,” Derek cuts in smugly.
“Well yeah, obviously. But more importantly, you let Jordan keep catching us, even though you have those werewolf super senses,” Stiles gets out excitedly. “You should have been able to hear him from way down the hall, but nope, you apparently didn’t notice him until he walked in on us mid-fuck. Or maybe you did hear him, and just wanted him to see us.” He looks victorious now. “Come on, admit to your master plan.”
Derek rolls his eyes, and moves to sit on the kitchen table, thighs spread. He knows it’ll distract Stiles. “You’d been talking about bringing someone else in for sex,” he says idly. “But you said you didn’t know who it should be.”
“So you immediately thought of Jordan?” Stiles asks, amused.
Derek shrugs. “We both trust him. We’re both attracted to him.”
“You like Jordan, don’t you?” Stiles asks, sly.
“Don’t you?” Derek asks. He licks his lips. “I just had to find out whether or not he was interested. Hence the, uh, exhibitionism.”
“You are devious,” Stiles says with a grin, stepping between Derek’s legs and running his hands up Derek’s thighs. “But you made a good call; he was great for us. You think he’ll come back?”
“Yeah,” Derek says, leaning into Stiles’ kiss. “I think he just might.”