“Are you serious?” asks Scott.
“Well, that’s what the texts say, Scott. I’m not making this up.”
“Could you be making it up a little bit?” asks Kira, blushing.
“Look, it’s not my fault the research turned up sex ritual, okay? Ask Lydia, she knows Latin. I had to make do with translating this a hundred times.”
As if pulled by a string, Malia, Scott and Kira turn to the redhead who’s frowning at the book on Stiles’ desk. She softly drags her hand down the page, humming, then turns it, her frown deepens.
With a sigh, she says, “It says lovemaking, which I guess, could be sex. It doesn’t say what kind of lovemaking though. Could you two fulfill this part of the ritual?” Her question is directed at Scott and Kira, and Kira immediately blushes harder than before. “It could be just kissing,” she quickly adds, “maybe you need to make out in the forest and have it done.”
“Is this necessary?” Malia bites.
“Well, do you want the Fae to recognize our territory, or do you want them to keep pulling tricks on us,” asks Stiles.
Malia, the latest victim of the Fae’s tricks, wrinkles her nose at the memory. One of them pretended to be Kira walking into traffic, and Malia almost died “saving” Kira only for the Fae to turn back to their former selves and giggle inside her arms. Lucky for Malia, Scott had felt Malia’s panic through the bond and raced to her, avoiding an open declaration of war by killing one of the Fae.
Malia was still furious at the intruders, but she was more embarrassed that it had let them all get a glimpse of Malia’s crush on Kira that everyone was pretending not to notice.
Ever since the first Fae trick, things in the pack had shifted. The tension ramped up, and only a minor part of it was their fragile bond as they figured out how to be a pack together; the rest of it was definitely the sexual tension that seemed to come from every corner of their little star-shaped pack. For some reason, the Fae seemed hellbent on making them notice they all had a crush on each other, as if that way they could fracture the bond enough to make them turn against each other. It hasn’t worked the way the Fae expected because they’re all equally hellbent on making the pack work.
The silence is broken by Lydia when she reads a small passage in Latin. Stiles, with his rudimentary Spanish, puts enough together to know what’s coming.
“It has to be an act of love involving the whole pack,” Lydia says, swallowing around the knot in her throat, as if she were as affected by it as Stiles who had just put 2 and 2 (and one) together.
“What does it mean?” asks Scott, stressing the final word.
“Why can’t they say orgy like normal people?” Stiles’ frustration is probably palpable, making the living room feel like an alternate universe where Stiles can have all the people his heart desires.
“Because these texts are old, Stiles. As old as the word perhaps.” She closes the book with a finality that leaves no space for further questions. All the eyes in the room are on Lydia at that. “Well, what are you guys waiting for? An invitation?”
“You want to do w-what now?” Scott trips over the words as if this was still the same asthmatic teenager that got turned three years ago.
“I don’t see what’s the big deal,” says Malia. “It’ll be like sleeping in a pile.”
“It will not be like sleeping in the same pile, oh my god,” says Stiles. “Do you want me to have a heart attack?”
“I want to stop seeing Kiras and Stileses that aren’t real,” Malia counters.
“Guys,” Lydia says, “it’ll just be a one time thing. And if it gets too awkward, we jump ship and figure out another way. But that’s going to take time and this is something we can do now. So, who’s coming with me to the Nematon?”
She turns around and leaves through Stiles’ main door, walking towards her car parked outside.
“Stileses isn’t even a real word,” Stiles mumbles, following in her direction.
“It is if I say so,” says Malia with a light bump to his left arm. Stiles looks over in her direction and smiles, his hesitation disappearing at Malia’s knowing smirk. “Isn’t this like your wildest dream come true?”
Stiles doesn’t reply until they reach his jeep, Malia comfortably slipping into the passenger seat. Scott and Kira are the last to leave the house, making a beeline for Lydia’s car.
“My wildest dream is the zombie apocalypse, and I truly wish that never comes true,” he says, starting the car to follow Lydia’s at a reasonable distance.
“To be honest, I hoped the Nemeton would have disappeared by the time we arrived so we didn’t have to do this,” says Scott.
“If you don’t want to do it, say so and we’re out of here in a second,” Stiles says, always ready to bail Scott out of any situation. He’d follow him to hell and then bring him back.
“It’s not that. I just wish I could’ve talked to Kira about the threesome without all of this happening.”
That was new for Scott. Stiles ignores the slight discomfort brought by the realization his best friend would probably get any threesome he wanted, if only he asked. He’s handsome and loyal and a million other things the world doesn’t see, but that Stiles sees whenever he looks at him.
“Look at you, Scotty! Thinking of threesomes and orgies in your free time! Which of the girls did you want to ask?” Stiles is ninety-nine percent sure it’ll be Malia, but he still wants to know out of pure curiosity.
“I wanted to ask you, actually,” replies Scott, sheepishly looking down as he scratches the back of his head.
“You what?” Stiles trips in the air at that.
“It’s something Kira mentioned once, and I haven’t stopped thinking about that ever since.”
“Kira?” Stiles asks, his tone raising enough that it was probably heard by the girls walking a couple of feet behind them.
“Dude, don’t make it weird. It’s not like you and Malia never had a list when you dated.”
“That’s different,” he says, walking the last few feet to stand in front of the Nemeton. “Those were celebrities.”
“Same concept, though.”
“Enough chit chat, guys,” says Lydia, taking charge of the operation. “You two can watch for now.”
She says it with enough confidence that Stiles is ready to follow any further orders she dashes out.
But instead of an order, Lydia turns around and takes Malia’s hand in hers and Kira’s hand in the other, bringing them both closer to her and to the stump of the tree. Lydia walks until they have enough space between them and the guys and Stiles doesn’t have to wonder for long what will happen next.
Lydia kisses Kira first, a soft, close-mouthed thing that makes Scott gasp. Stiles thinks he might be going into shock because Kira kisses her back, chasing those lips into a fiery kiss.
Not one to stay behind, Malia moves closer to Lydia and kisses her neck, positively making Stiles’ cock twitch inside his pants. Her lips trace her neck down, sucking bruises on Lydia’s throat until she gasps into Kira’s mouth.
Scott swears under his breath. Stiles’ mind cannot work properly with the knowledge of Malia, Lydia and Kira kissing. It gets worse for him when Lydia and Malia start making out and Kira helps Lydia take off her pink cardigan, his boner painfully straining inside his boxers. Kira takes off her own sweater and blouse, throwing them on the stump, making a blanket out of thrown off clothes.
Stiles drags his hand over his face when the three girls are dressed down to their underwear, averting his eyes for a moment, catching a glimpse of Scott’s very still form. His claws are gripping his own thighs—small dots of blood stain his jeans—and Stiles thinks it’s best if they don’t start bleeding on the powerful site where they’re already performing a ritual.
“Scott, dude, you need to get a grip,” Stiles carefully dislodges one of his hands from Scott’s legs, taking it between both of his hands until Scott’s claws recede, hand relaxing slowly, then he uses his t-shirt to clean his best friend's fingers.
Stiles is about to say something, but then a playful yelp catches his attention: Malia has taken Kira in her arms, grabbing her by her thighs, then dropping her on top of the tree stump. She’s kissing her hard and fast, as if she cannot believe she’s getting a chance to be with Kira the way she craved.
Lydia, noticing Stiles staring, walks around the stump to stand between Scott and Stiles. She kisses Scott first, almost hesitant, but Scott gives as good as he gets and quickly opens his mouth to Lydia. He’s about to crack a joke that he feels like the awkward third wheel when Lydia pushes Scott back and turns to Stiles, one of her hands caressing his cheek.
Stiles leans on her touch, something so vulnerable about this moment with her —with them— that deserves to be leaned on. When Stiles leans down to kiss Lydia, she stands on the tip of her toes to meet him head on. It’s a cascade of emotions that feels like a universe expanding into existence the moment her mouth opens under him.
Kissing Lydia is everything he ever imagined. It’s a tidal wave of feeling so strong that it threatens to drown him. Lydia unbuttons his shirt, dropping it to the floor, then helps him out of his t-shirt, pausing only to help Scott out of his own clothes.
Somewhere in between kissing Lydia’s mouth and kissing her neck, he notices he is still dressed from the waist down, his boner pressing awkwardly against Lydia’s thigh. Stiles wants to say something, but his thoughts get lost when Lydia takes off her bra, exposing her beautiful breasts to the chilly air.
She turns to Scott and mumbles something in his ear because the next second he’s manhandling her to sit on the stump. Lydia uses her arms around both of them to bring them closer and kisses each one in turn. Stiles wants to ask what happens next, but he’s surprised by his best friend turning to him, his eyes flashing red every once in a heartbeat.
“Can I kiss you, Stiles?”
With a cocksure smile he didn’t think he was capable of, he replies, “Thought you’d never ask.”
Kissing Scott is like nothing he ever imagined —and he imagined it a fair number of times growing up. It’s the Earth threatening to open under him, the planet shifting to swallow him whole. It’s also a lifeline that keeps him grounded and present and reminds him they’re not alone.
Stiles is brought back to his body by Kira’s gasp and immediately knows Malia is going down on her, but he still turns around just in time to see Lydia crawl —giving Stiles and Scott a full view of her behind— and lean to kiss Kira, swallowing her gasps while also playing with her nipple.
Stiles finds himself staring at the way Malia eats Kira out, wishing he could be the one in between Kira’s legs, still feeling flushed from the way Scott revealed Kira was the one to bring up the threesome.
Deciding that since he’s not gonna get another chance, he might as well take this one, he strips down next to Scott, who takes the hint and strips down too, and climbs behind Lydia. He taps her hip to get her attention and get her to turn around. Her eyes are wild with lust. Stiles doesn’t get a chance to ask, because a second later Lydia says, “Fuck me, Stiles. I’m so turned on I’m sure I can take you right now.”
Stiles, not one to assume, first uses his fingers, finding that yes, the panties she’s still got on are soaking wet. He removes the panties all the way down to her knees, lines up and fucks into her deep; there’s not any other way to describe it.
Now, Stiles believes in magic because he’s seen it, because he’s been on the receiving end of it more than once, but still nothing could prepare him for the rush he gets once he is caught in the circuit the girls are on. An undercurrent of energy buzzes inside his head, on his skin, pools at the bottom of his stomach urging him to do something about it. Of course they look feral, as if this is the first and last time they get to feel this, because it is. It’s not like they can have ritualistic sex on their everyday lives.
Maybe, after the sweat has cooled down and their bond has been strengthened and their pack is no longer Fae chew toys, maybe then they can negotiate this again, get a chance to at least do it in a bed where his knees won’t bruise as much.
Lydia —warm and wet and beautiful Lydia— kisses Kira one more time and then lets go to sit up, making Stiles also sit on the back of his legs. Lydia fucks herself on his dick, as if she wants it as much as Stiles has wished many years before this moment. Stiles, however, can barely hold back, aroused beyond measure.
Kissing the back of her neck, he whispers against her skin, “I’m not gonna last like this.”
Stiles risks a glance at Malia and Kira and finds that Scott has joined them. Kira is still on her back, Malia on all fours on fop of her, giving Scott a vantage point to fuck Kira with his dick while he fingerfucks Malia. He’s not sure if it’s his imagination, but he can feel their bond growing stronger, one thrust at a time.
He’s losing himself in the physical and magical sensations so hard that he almost comes inside Lydia, but he’s got enough sense of mind to pull out just in time, his cum a pearly line up Lydia’s back. Lydia, however, is not done and turns around to kiss Stiles and shove him hard enough that he gets the hint to lie down. She climbs on top of him and rubs herself against his pelvis, hard enough that Stiles’ cock twitches with overstimulation.
Stiles gets an idea and licks two of his fingers until they’re dripping spit, then gives it to Lydia to guide him on where to go. She presses Stiles’ fingers to her clit and says, “Don’t do anything, just press. Hard.”
Then she proceeds to rub on his palm, her hips stuttering until she cries out in pleasure and Stiles feels her dripping down his own pelvis, and god, can anyone witness that and not get a semi? Lydia winks as if she could read his thoughts, then climbs off, crawling to Malia and catching her mouth in a kiss.
Malia crawls too, and they find themselves in the middle of the stump, kissing until Malia is grunting. Stiles —whose dick is still not back in the game— comes closer too and kisses Malia, tasting Kira on her tongue.
After some manhandling, Malia lies on her back, and Stiles finds himself going down on her like he used to. Luckily, that’s a skill he hasn’t forgotten in his brain fog, and—if Malia’s moans are anything to go by—he’s still got some game.
Her legs tense when Stiles spells her name with his tongue. He knows he’s gotten to her when she grabs his hair and pulls his head up. Her eyes shine a bright blue that Stiles is intimately familiar with. “Stiles, I wanna come. Enough teasing.”
He puts his mouth back to work and keeps working her clit until she clenches her thighs around his head, he keeps working her clit when her back arches, keeps working it when she howls as she comes, his tongue lapping up the sensitive bud of nerves until she stops him.
Stiles looks up to find her stretching her arms and back, leaning up to kiss Lydia one more time.
Kira’s moans are the last to fill the clearing, her entire body trembling as Scott fucks her, snapping his hips hard and fast. He doesn’t do Kira the common courtesy of announcing he’s coming; he just pulls out, groans, and comes all over her stomach, painting her body with his cum.
Nothing but their gasps fill the clearing for a moment. Stiles’ body feels sticky with cum and sweat, and he’s starting to feel self-conscious about this whole thing when Malia says, “God, this is definitely better than sleeping in a pile together.”
Stiles laughs at the ridiculous comment while Kira giggles as if high. For a second, he wonders if they’re all high on magic or something, but instead of focusing on that, he says, “We’re gonna end up with splinters up very uncomfortable places, y’know?”
Scott laughs, making the girls follow along. Stiles almost wishes the Fae would bother them again if it ends like this. But he knows that now that the ritual is over and they can think clearly, the chances of them repeating this are less than zero. He wonders what it’ll take to make Derek’s pack join them in a sex ritual.
Maybe the Fae meddling in shifter affairs isn’t so terrible after all.