Stiles crashes into the locker beside Scott’s, bursting with news. “I just touched Laura Hale’s boob.”
“Yeah, right. You’d be dead.”
Stiles laughs because Scott is so right. The Hales are the scariest fucks to ever grace the halls of Beacon Hills High School. “It was an accident! But it still happened.” And it was awesome.
When it happens again, Laura’s not so forgiving. He was rushing around a corner, late for English and stuffing his notebook into his bookbag. Laura was in the wrong place at the wrong time and then suddenly neither of them were on their feet.
“Oh shit,” he says, staring into murderous brown eyes. He looks down and his hand is most definitely on her boob. Again. He focuses on not closing his fingers around the mound in his palm.
He snatches it back, scrambling away from her. “I swear it was an accident this time.”
“Both times!” Stiles winces at the squeak in his voice. That hasn’t happened to him for at least a year but shit, this is Laura Hale. “Please don’t get your brother to kill me.”
Laura may be average height for a high school senior girl but her glare could make a grown man cower. And Stiles, a lowly sophomore, shrinks down the wall as she leans in. “What makes you think I’d need Derek for that?”
“I-- what? No. Girl power!” God, it sucks that his dick reacts to death threats like it’s porn dialogue. Laura still looks like she might pull a knife from her kick-ass boots. “I’m sure you could. All by yourself.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” Laura says. Stiles just nods, star struck that she’s even talking to him. Also that she’s not yet killing him. “I think doing it with my brother would be even more fun.”
Stiles blinks, letting the words hover in the air for second. Then the sound Stiles makes is strikingly similar to a whimper. If Laura catches the double entendre she just made, it doesn’t show. Which is good because the heat in Stiles’ face means he can’t even deny where his mind just went. Laura and Derek are together a lot; he doesn’t think anyone at BHHS hasn’t had a naughty thought about their relationship at least once.
Laura grins and it’s all teeth. “I like you, Stiles.”
As she walks away Stiles shouts, “You know my name?”
He opts to stop by the toilets before heading to English.
Laura knows more than his name. She’s waiting outside his house the next morning, offering to drive him to school. Derek is leaning up against the car, arms crossed over his chest, with a surly expression on his face. It’s a complete contrast to Laura, who hugs -- fucking hugs -- Stiles before telling him to get in the car.
“Hey, Derek,” Stiles says as he’s climbing into the backseat of the Camaro, a little weak-kneed. “Nice jacket. Very bad boy.”
Derek scowls at him until Laura’s rubs the back of her hand along Derek’s cheek. He calms visibly and Stiles squirms in the back seat, trying not to stare at the siblings’ entwined hands.
“The way those Hales look at you, dude...”
“I don’t know.” Scott shrugs, blushing. “It’s like they’re going to eat you.”
Stiles scratches the back of his neck, trying to hide his smile. He’s suddenly hot all over. It’s impossible not to notice what’s been happening the last few weeks: Laura rubbing her nose into Stiles’ jaw when she drops him off after school; Derek slamming Jackson up against the wall for calling Stiles a loser.
The whole school knows Stiles is now Hale property.
Laura’s sprawled out on the bed that takes up most of the apartment she shares with her brother. Derek hovers in the corner, more fidgety than usual.
The apartment has a kitchen and a bathroom. Two closets. There’s no second bed; Stiles sits with his hand hiding his crotch.
“He’s not ready.” Derek’s voice breaks the quiet like a slap, unexpected and impossible to ignore.
Part of Stiles wants to jump up and defend himself against that, but he isn’t entirely sure what Derek’s talking about. He has a few guesses, but he’s sixteen and in the constant hope his life will suddenly become a porn flick. He can’t exactly trust his judgement on this even though Derek’s fingers curl around the back of Stiles’ neck as they walk through the halls lately, even though Laura kissed him before asking him to come up to their apartment.
“Stiles?” Laura says, and waits for him to look at her, then she spreads her legs a fraction. The angle’s just right that Stiles can see the pink panties up her skirt.
He forces his eyes back up, and sees her smirk. His cheeks burn.
Laura says, “I think he’s ready.”
Derek snorts. “You’re so impatient.”
Stiles looks between the two most frightening, most beautiful people he’s ever met. Let’s be real; he can’t get his clothes off fast enough.
Derek’s sitting up by the headboard, shirt off but otherwise just enjoying the show. “I’ll get my turn,” he’d said when Laura pulled Stiles to the bed.
Stiles can feel Derek’s eyes on him as sharply as Laura’s nails clawing at his back as he thrusts inside her.
“I can’t--” Stiles gasps. Laura’s so fucking wet. Her legs are wrapped around him, urging him faster. He’s not going to last. “Shit.”
“Come inside me,” she says.
He slams in, his body wrecked, trembling. He can’t believe they convinced him to forgo the condom, but as he empties himself, making Laura sloppy-full with his jizz, he can’t regret it. After a minute, his arms can’t hold him up and he rolls off.
Once he catches his breath, he looks at Laura. She’s gorgeous all flushed, pink cheeked and hair mussed. Her finger is working her clit; Stiles can see his come start to dribble out and mess the sheets.
“Oh, can I?” He doesn't know what to offer, but he’s knows he probably didn’t last long enough to get Laura off.
“Just watch and learn,” she says and shoots a look over her shoulder at Derek. “Come on, bro. Show him how it’s done.”
Then Derek’s right there with his head buried between Laura’s legs. Any questions Stiles ever had about the nature of Derek and Laura’s very close relationship gets answered in about two seconds.
Derek’s spreading her legs so wide that her thigh brushes against Stiles’ softening cock. Derek’s attacking her pussy with the confidence and ease of someone who does this often. He’s making hungry, wet sounds as he sucks Stiles’ come from inside her. Stiles wonders if it’s Stiles’ taste Derek’s chasing, or if Derek is possessive enough to not want to leave any trace of another man’s come inside his sister. Whatever he’s doing, he’s doing it well. Laura arches her back and twists her hands into the sheets, crying out her brother’s name.
It’s another minute before Laura’s moans turn to whimpers and she tugs Derek’s hair until he pulls off.
Derek looks feral, his eyes flashing as he catches Stiles staring at him.
He pounces. When he kisses Stiles, his mouth is still filthy. His tongue slips in so Stiles can taste the flavor the three of them make together. It’s bitter and sweet, unexpectedly perfect.
“You’re ours now,” Derek says.
Stiles can only nod and hope he understands what that means.