A/N: What are threesomes? Seriously though I had to watch a butt ton of porn to write this.
Stiles woke up in the middle of the night shaking in a cold sweat. He felt Derek moving behind him, instinctively wrapping his arms tighter to calm Stiles. Stiles leaned into the embrace, breathing methodically in and out as his shrink had taught him to do when he had panic attacks about his mom.
Thinking about her wasn't really helping to put him at ease though. He'd already lost her, he couldn't lose his dad too. He wasn't sure he'd be able to go on if that were to happen.
He played the doctors' words over and over in his head. "Hemorrhage…brain trauma…brain injury…cognitive impairment." They didn't know anything for sure yet, but just knowing the possibilities was threatening Stiles' sanity. He had to be at the hospital. He had to be with his dad. He needed to know.
He elbowed Scott frantically to wake him up. Scott blinked groggily, then quickly came to attention as he registered the panic on Stiles' face.
"What's wrong?" he questioned immediately. His voice woke up Derek, who tensed.
"We have to go to the hospital," Stiles mumbled, voice ragged and eyes red.
Scott's throat clenched shut. It was like he could feel Stiles' pain. The smell of fear was so strong it was choking him.
"It's 3am," he reminded, reaching out to wipe a tear from Stiles' cheek with his thumb. "We'll go in the morning. You need to sleep." He pulled his hand back but Stiles had an iron grip on his wrist, so he cupped Stiles cheek and pressed their foreheads together. Derek rubbed slow circles over Stiles' shoulders and back. He could feel Stiles' heartbeat gradually slowing under his touch.
Stiles nodded, lips accidentally brushing against Scott's. Derek felt Stiles' pulse jump again, but the smell of fear and pain was subsiding. Instead of anguish, Derek sensed desire, radiating off of both Scott and Stiles. Stiles didn't move, lips frozen against Scott's. Then slowly Scott opened his mouth, asking for permission. Stiles nodded again, and Scott slid his hand to the back of Stiles' head, pulling him closer as he kissed him. The tension flooded from Stiles, and was replaced by a desperate need for contact. He reached for Derek's hand which was still on his back and pulled it forward to rest on his waist. Derek took the hint and moved closer, pressing his lips to Stiles' shoulder. His hand slid up under Stiles' tee-shirt as he gently sucked at Stiles' shoulder and neck. Scott's hand joined his, lifting Stiles' shirt up. They broke apart to help Stiles' out of the garment. Their own followed quickly. Sties' gasped as warm flesh was pressed against him from both sides.
Scott trailed his lips down Stiles' chin to his neck and onto his chest, while Derek's hands cupped his hips, fingers ghosting over his pelvic bones. Stiles' breathing was fast and ragged again, but for an entirely different reason.
Scott kissed Stiles' stomach and Stiles arched backwards into Derek who leaned forward to capture Stiles' lips.
No one spoke. There was no need to. Nothing had ever felt as right as this moment.
Scott's lips reached the band of Stiles' boxers, and Stiles pressed his hips forward, actions driven solely by physical need. Derek pulled Stiles upright, leaning up against the headboard and guiding Stiles to sit in between his legs. Scott was crouched on all fours, knees bent, hands gripping Stiles' thighs. He licked and sucked at Stiles' hipbones, trailing down his pelvic bones to the tender skin of his inner thighs.
Stiles tossed his head back against Derek, gasps and moans escaping his open mouth. Derek turned Stiles head so he could kiss him again, silencing him. Stiles kissed back furiously, one hand clutching Derek's arm, the other tightly would in the soft curls of Scott's hair.
Scott's hand came up to lightly grip Stiles' cock, sliding along its length as he continued to suck at the pale skin of the boy's thigh.
Stiles' breath caught in his throat. He pressed Scott's head closer and dug his nails into Derek's arms, legs wrapping around Scott's shoulders and squeezing him. Scott replaced his hand with his mouth and had to hold Stiles' hips back to keep him from bucking violently forward. Scott sucked Stiles down, taking as much of him into his mouth as he could. Stiles was writing in Derek's arms, rubbing against him in a way that was very, very, pleasing. Derek pressed his hips forward, crushing his erection between him and Stiles.
Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, clawing at Derek as he came into Scott's hot, soft mouth. He collapsed against Derek, shaking, pupils blown wide. Scott swallowed and pushed himself up to lean over Stiles, straddling his lap as he kissed him, his lips still salty with Stiles' cum. Scott continued to kiss Stiles as he pressed forward, erection digging into Stiles' stomach. Scott's hands were on Stiles' shoulders, and Derek's hands were on his hips. Both of them were grinding against him, the fabric of their underwear creating even more friction between them. Scott was kissing him and Derek was biting into his shoulder. He didn't know what to do with his hands so he rested them on the nearest surface, Scott's hips.
Scott came first, groaning his orgasm, nails digging into Stiles' shoulders. Derek followed shortly after, spilling his seed into the cleft of Stiles' ass, yanking his mouth back from Stiles' just before he broke the skin.
Their pulses were racing, breaths coming fast and hot. Stiles was covered in sticky sweat, but he honestly didn't even notice. All he could think about were the two bodies surrounding him with warmth. He fit perfectly into Derek, and felt himself drifting off, head nestled into the crook of Derek's neck. Derek's arms slid around his waist as Scott pulled the blanket up over them, curling up between Stiles' legs. He rested his cheek on Stiles' thigh and fell asleep to the slow rise and fall of Stiles' breaths.
Returning to the hospital the next morning was not something Scott wanted to do, but Stiles needed him there. Needed him and Derek to let him know that everything would be okay. That they would get through this, together. He kept his hand in contact with Stiles' arm while the doctor explained the situation to them
They'd removed the bullet and stopped the bleeding. The damage had been contained to the frontal lobe, so there was no damage to physical function. Sheriff Stilinski was breathing on his own. He was still unconscious, from the drugs, but there was definite brain activity. The chances were good that he would be okay, but they couldn't be sure of the cognitive damage until he woke up.
Stiles nodded as the words flew past, too fast for him to fully comprehend. He focused on Derek's hand on the small of his back and Scott's on his forearm, and it kept him grounded. There was still anxiety, but it was significantly muted by the comfort of his two friends.
As soon as they were alone, Scott wrapped himself tightly around Stiles.
"He'll be okay," he whispered. Because even though he couldn't guarantee it, it was what Stiles needed to head. Derek leaned in to press his lips to Stiles' forehead.
Stiles nodded, giving the best smile he could manage. It didn't reach his eyes, but it was progress.