It was difficult to breath, trapped between two bodies and with flour drifting through the air. Jackson closed his eyes. Stiles's fingers traced up over his side, across his neck, and up into his hair. It was good, soothing and teasing at the same time. That was the normal reaction that Jackson had to Stiles. Derek was a contradiction too, but in a different way. Derek was a fire that burned cold. He was passion that couldn't be stopped. He could only be endured, held onto, and survived.

Stiles on the other hand was like a breath of precious oxygen while on the edge of drowning. Derek pushed him so hard that sometimes he didn't think he'd be able to recover. As if to remind him of the feeling Derek's teeth sank into the side of his neck. He wasn't holding back, delicate skin broke under the strength of Derek's jaws. Jackson let out another whine, but resisted the impulse to push Derek away from him. He tilted his head in the other direction, offered more of his neck in submission.

A cool hand rubbed circles on the small of his back. Stiles didn't really get this part of the relationship. Neither Jackson nor Derek had ever bitten him, Derek for obvious reasons and Jackson because he never wanted to hurt Stiles like that. They pushed the boundaries in other ways, a hundred other ways, at every opportunity. The three of them thrived on it. People on the outside didn't always understand. Stiles's dad, the other members of the pack, no one really got the three of them. It wasn't relevant though. All that mattered was that for the last year they had found a way to make it work.

There were times where Jackson still felt incredibly greedy, like he was a disease in the lives of people he loved. Sometimes it seemed like all he could do was take and take, he wasn't great at giving anything back.

"Don't do that, Jackson," Stiles whispered into his ear. "Don't get lost up there." He tapped the side of Jackson's head. "We're right here, and you should be here with us."

Derek grunted in agreement, released Jackson's neck from his mouth. "I hate to admit it, but sometimes Stiles is correct. Be here, in this moment with us."

Jackson reached up and intertwined his fingers with Stiles's, leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Derek's lips. He spent too much time in the middle; he wanted someone else to have a turn. Derek resisted Jackson's attempt to turn them for a moment as if to prove a point. It always had to be on Derek's terms. That was something both Jackson and Stiles had learned to deal with. Control issues. It seemed like they all had issues. Maybe that's why they worked.

Stiles slipped sideways as Jackson pushed Derek up against the wall. The white dusting on Derek's skin cast him in a surreal light. Jackson traced a finger over one of Derek's pecs, then down his stomach. A small patch of skin cleared somewhat, almost returned to Derek's normal tone. Tomorrow there was going to be a hell of a mess to clean up in the kitchen, something he and Stiles would do together. For now, he didn't want to think about that, he wanted to think about the two people he loved.

Stiles slipped down onto his knees, hooked his fingers into the front of Derek's shorts. He looked up through long black eye lashes for permission, first to Jackson and then to Derek. This was one of those parts that always felt weird. Even after a year Stiles still seemed to think that he was intruding. To Jackson's knowledge Derek and Stiles had never done anything sexual without him being present. Derek reacted the same way as Stiles, looked to Jackson before interacting directly with Stiles even when all three of them were together. The weird part was that they both went after Jackson whenever they wanted, even if the other wasn't present. The rules they enforced on themselves seemed odd to Jackson. How could they have gone for almost a year and not found any common ground beyond how they felt about Jackson. Someday that would be the thing that drove them apart. Jealousy, the natural inclination of most people was to be territorial about who they were with. Being part of a threesome was complicated.

Jackson sank down to his knees next to Stiles, watched as Derek got hard under Stiles's skilled fingers. Complicated or not, there were benefits, major benefits. Stiles dug an elbow into Jackson's ribs, nodded toward Derek's dick. That was the type of invitation that no one in their right mind could turn down. The two of them leaned forward together, Stiles on the left and Jackson on the right. Derek got a grip on each of them, strong fingers in their hair. Stiles had let his grow out, Jackson kind of thought this type of situation was what prompted it. Stiles liked to be manhandled. Jackson wasn't going to complain, there were few things he liked more than tangling his fingers in Stiles's hair.

They had a sort of natural rhythm. Stiles always started at the base, while Jackson went right for the tip. Derek's scent was always strong, but especially in that moment of anticipation, right before everything got kicked up a notch. Tonight was no different, and Jackson let out a low moan as his lips wrapped around the head of Derek's cock. An appreciative grunt, a tightening of the fingers in his hair, and a small thrust forward, little things Jackson treasured.

Stiles's kissed down Derek's thigh, and then turned his head toward Jackson. He licked at Jackson's stomach as his fingers slipped into the front of Jackson's boxers. Derek twitched in Jackson's mouth, Jackson was pretty sure he loved this part more than anything else, watching Stiles pleasure Jackson.

Control frayed, and Jackson let it slip partially. His nails elongated, he ran them down Derek's thighs. Heat enveloped his cock, he desperately wanted to look down to see Stiles's lips wrapped around him, but he was too preoccupied with Derek's quickening pace, with the fingers tightening in his hair.

"Look up," Derek said. It was soft, but it was still a command.

Jackson got harder in Stiles's mouth, looked up through his blond lashes. Derek's eyes weren't glowing, but Jackson could feel the power welling up. Derek thrust harder, Stiles's nails dug into the small of Jackson's back. So good, he rocked forward into Stiles's mouth; the low moan in his throat echoed the noises Stiles was making around him. It wouldn't take long for him to lose it like this, full of Derek's taste and surrounded by Stiles's heat. He wanted more though, and his eyes lit up, mirrored that desperate desire.

"Derek," Stiles whispered. "I think Jackson wants to take this upstairs."

"Good, I want to see you fuck him." Derek said it so casually that Jackson almost didn't catch it at first. Jackson pulled off Derek's dick, opened his mouth to protest, but swallowed it as Derek ran a hand under his chin and tilted his head up more. "Come on. Stiles, you get him ready upstairs while I get cleaned off."

Jackson started breathing again when Derek let him go. He looked down, Stiles was still on all fours, mouth inches from Jackson's dick. He slowly sat back on his heels. His eyes were hooded, desperate desire leaked off his skin in waves. Jackson didn't even need to ask if Stiles wanted to do it, he was practically quivering.

"Let's go," Jackson whispered.