Chapter 2: Submerged Service: Derek's Midnight Mouth
The chlorinated steam rose thick off the bubbling water, wrapping Derek in a wet, artificial heat that couldn’t quite erase the deeper ache in his muscles. Two days. Two days of walking stiffly, feeling the phantom stretch and the lingering soreness deep inside whenever he sat down. A constant reminder of the cedar-scented steam, the brutal claiming, the feeling of being utterly filled and emptied. Now, naked under the vast, star-speckled sky, the city lights shimmering far below like scattered diamonds, he floated in the rooftop hot tub’s embrace. The distant thump of music from the party inside the frat house was a muffled counterpoint to the tub’s rhythmic churn.
Scott McCall’s hand clamped onto the back of Derek’s neck, not rough, but firm, possessive. "Look at you," Scott murmured, his voice warm but edged with that familiar, thrilling authority. He shifted closer in the churning water, his powerful thighs bumping against Derek’s. His thick cock, already fully erect and bobbing just below the frothy surface, nudged insistently against Derek’s lips. "Been thinking about this mouth since the sauna. How fucking good it felt." He didn't ask. He guided Derek’s head down. "Open wide, pledge."
The command, the proximity of Scott’s musky scent cutting through the chlorine, sent a jolt through Derek’s exhausted system. He parted his lips obediently, the hot water lapping at his chin. Scott’s cockhead pressed against his mouth, slick with water and pre-cum. Derek took it in, swirling his tongue instinctively around the broad ridge, tasting salt and chlorine. He sank down, relaxing his throat, taking Scott deep. The water made everything slicker, easier, but the sheer size still stretched his jaw. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard, the familiar rhythm returning despite the lingering soreness in his ass.
"Fuck yeah," Scott groaned, his head tilting back against the tub’s edge, eyes closing briefly. "Just like that. Knew you wouldn’t forget."
On Derek’s left, Stiles Stilinski chuckled, the sound low and mischievous. He slid through the bubbling water, his lean frame pressing against Derek’s side. One hand snaked underwater, fingers finding Derek’s nipple, pinching it hard enough to make Derek flinch and moan around Scott’s cock. "Missed this tight little body," Stiles breathed, his other hand drifting lower, tracing Derek’s hipbone before dipping between his legs. Fingers brushed over Derek’s own half-hard cock, then lower, probing the cleft of his ass. "Still sore back here, Derek? Bet you are." Stiles’s finger pressed against Derek’s entrance, still slightly tender from the relentless pounding two nights prior. Derek tensed, a muffled whimper escaping him. "Relax," Stiles murmured, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Just checking if Peter’s promise came true. Can you even walk straight yet?" He pushed a finger in, knuckle-deep, the water aiding the intrusion. Derek gasped, his body arching slightly, impaled on Scott’s cock and Stiles’s finger simultaneously.
"Seems loose enough," Stiles observed casually, twisting his finger inside Derek, making him squirm. "Good. Means we won’t have to work so hard tonight." He withdrew his finger, leaving Derek feeling strangely empty. Before Derek could process it, Stiles gripped his own erection, thick and flushed, and pressed the head against Derek’s lips beside Scott’s shaft. "Make some room, Derek. Share that talented mouth."
The command hung in the humid air. Derek’s mind stuttered. Two at once? But the rule echoed – no doubling up. Panic flared, sharp and sudden. Scott’s thick cock still stretched his lips, filling his mouth with its heavy musk. Stiles nudged his own erection insistently against the corner of Derek’s mouth, rubbing against Scott’s shaft and Derek’s cheek. "C'mon, pledge," Stiles urged, his fingers tightening painfully in Derek’s wet hair. "Don’t make me ask twice."
Derek pulled off Scott with a wet gasp, strings of spit and pre-cum glistening on his lips. He turned his head, capturing Stiles’ cockhead instantly, sucking hard. It was different – slightly less girth but just as demanding. He tasted clean skin and water, then the distinct salt of Stiles as he took him deep. Stiles groaned, low and satisfied. "Fuck, yeah. That’s the spot." Scott watched, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he stroked his slick length near Derek’s panting mouth. "Don’t forget who you belong to first, Derek," Scott murmured, pushing his tip back against Derek’s lips. "Suck me slow."
The hot water churned around them. Derek obeyed, shifting his focus back to Scott, taking him in deep, his throat working. Stiles didn’t retreat. He kept his cock rubbing against Derek’s jaw, his fingers tracing Derek’s ear, then sliding down his neck. "Such a good hole," Stiles breathed. "Watching you choke on Scott’s meat… fuck." Scott’s hand returned to the back of Derek’s neck, guiding the rhythm, pushing deeper each time Derek took him. The water sloshed, echoing Derek’s muffled gagging. "That's it," Scott growled. "Take it all, you little slut." Peter Kavinsky observed quietly from the other side of the tub, his muscular arms resting on the rim. Steam wreathed his face, his expression unreadable but intensely focused on Derek’s servicing. His own cock stood rigid above the waterline, a thick, intimidating promise. He didn’t touch himself. He just watched.
Stiles’ hand drifted lower under the bubbling surface. Fingers skimmed Derek’s flank, down towards his ass. They probed the sensitive skin around his entrance, still tender from the sauna. Derek flinched. "Still sensitive back here, huh?" Stiles asked, his voice laced with mock sympathy. He pressed a single finger against the tight ring of muscle. Derek gasped around Scott’s cock, his body tensing. The dual sensations – Scott filling his mouth, Stiles invading his ass – threatened to overwhelm him. Water sloshed as he shifted. "Relax," Stiles commanded, pushing his finger past the resisting muscle. It burned, the water offering little lubrication beyond the surface. Derek groaned, the sound vibrating around Scott. Stiles worked the finger in, twisting slowly. "Gotta get you ready for Peter," he murmured, his eyes locked on Derek’s pained expression. "Wouldn’t want you splitting open like last time."
The memory flashed – cedar heat, agony, the feeling of being torn apart by three cocks, one after another. Fear spiked, cold despite the hot water. He tried to pull away, but Scott’s grip on his neck tightened, pushing him down harder. "Swallow," Scott ordered thickly. Derek felt the telltale twitch, the swell. He gulped frantically as Scott’s release pulsed hot and thick down his throat. He swallowed convulsively, the bitter-salt flavor flooding his senses. Scott groaned, long and low, thrusting shallowly through his climax. As Scott pulled out, Derek gasped for air, sputtering, strings of cum mixing with chlorinated water on his chin.
Stiles immediately took advantage. He grabbed Derek’s hair, yanking his head towards his own dripping cock. "My turn, whore. Clean Scott off me." Derek, still catching his breath, opened his mouth. Stiles shoved his cock in deep, hitting the back of his throat instantly. "Fuck, watch those teeth," Stiles hissed, but there was excitement in his voice. He started fucking Derek’s mouth in short, sharp thrusts, using his grip on Derek’s hair like a handle. Derek’s jaw ached, his throat raw. Water splashed his face. He could only focus on not choking, on the hard length sliding over his tongue, on Stiles’ ragged breathing. Peter watched, his gaze predatory. He finally moved, shifting his massive frame through the water towards them, the surface rippling around his waist. He placed a large, possessive hand on Derek’s shoulder, fingers digging into wet skin.
"Enough teasing, Stiles," Peter rumbled, his voice cutting through the steam and the wet sounds. "He’s warmed up. My turn with that ass." Stiles pulled his cock free with a wet pop, leaving Derek panting. Peter’s other hand joined the first, gripping Derek’s waist, turning him forcefully in the water. He pressed Derek face-first against the tiled rim of the hot tub. The cool ceramic shocked Derek’s heated skin. Water sloshed over the edge. "Hold him," Peter commanded Scott and Stiles. Hands clamped down on Derek’s shoulders and hips, pinning him. Panic surged again. "Please," Derek choked out, the word muffled against the tile. "It’s still…"
"Quiet," Peter said, his voice cold steel. He stepped closer, his massive body caging Derek in. Derek felt the blunt, immense pressure of Peter’s cockhead against his asshole. Stiles hadn’t prepped him nearly enough. The single finger was a joke compared to what was coming. Peter spat roughly onto his hand, then onto Derek’s entrance, a crude, wet sound. It wasn’t lube. It was just spit. He rubbed the head of his cock against the tight ring, a relentless pressure. "Fuck," Derek whined, pushing back against the hands holding him, but it was useless. Peter gripped Derek’s hips hard, fingers digging into the muscle. He pushed. Derek screamed into the tile. The stretch was immediate, agonizing, tearing through the leftover soreness. It felt like being ripped open all over again. "Take it," Peter growled, thrusting forward another brutal inch. Derek’s knuckles were white on the tub rim. Tears stung his eyes, mixing with the condensation. Peter didn’t stop. He pushed deeper, stretching Derek impossibly wide, the heat inside Derek eclipsing the heat of the water. "Damn, you’re tight," Peter grunted, a note of strained pleasure in his voice. "Even after those three took turns wrecking you." He bottomed out with a final, grinding thrust that punched the air from Derek’s lungs. Derek hung there, impaled, gasping, every nerve ending shrieking.
Peter didn’t give him a moment. He withdrew slowly, then slammed back in with shocking force. Derek cried out, his vision blurring. The pain was blinding, sharp and deep. Scott and Stiles chuckled behind him, their hands still pinning him firmly. "Look at him take it," Stiles said, awe in his voice. "Like he was made for it." Peter began a relentless rhythm, each powerful thrust driving Derek hard into the tub wall. His balls slapped wetly against Derek’s ass. The sound was obscene, mingling with Derek’s ragged sobs and Peter’s guttural grunts. "Fuck, that’s good," Peter breathed, his pace increasing, pistoning into Derek with brutal efficiency. "Tight little hole swallowing me whole." Derek felt utterly speared, filled beyond capacity. The initial agony pulsed with each thrust, but beneath it, a treacherous coil of heat began to build deep in his gut, a perverse echo of the pleasure he’d found in the sauna. His own cock, trapped against the cool tile, stirred despite the pain. Shame warred with the involuntary response. Peter leaned over him, his sweat dripping onto Derek’s back. "You love this, don’t you?" he hissed directly into Derek’s ear, his breath hot. "Being used? Being our little fucktoy?" Derek couldn’t answer. He could only whimper as Peter pounded into him, the force threatening to crack him open. Scott leaned in close on Derek’s other side. "You want your mouth again, Derek?" he asked softly, almost kindly, his hard cock brushing Derek’s cheek. "Suck me clean while Peter ruins that ass?" Derek, desperate for any anchor, any relief, nodded frantically against the tile. "Yes," he choked out. "Yes, sir." He turned his head, opening his mouth wide as Scott guided himself in. The salt of him filled Derek’s senses again just as Peter slammed home. Derek screamed around Scott’s cock, the vibrations making Scott groan. He was trapped, filled at both ends, the brutal rhythm of Peter fucking his ass syncing with the thrusts into his mouth. Stiles watched, mesmerized, his hand stroking his own cock lazily. "Perfect," he murmured. "Fucking perfect." Peter’s thrusts grew erratic, harder, deeper. "Gonna fill you up, pledge," he gasped, his voice thick with impending release. "Mark you inside." The pressure built to an unbearable peak. Derek braced, knowing what was coming, knowing the burn of being claimed again. Peter’s grip on his hips became bruising. He drove in one last, searing thrust and held.