Perfect For You (Teen Wolf, Braeden/Derek/Stiles)

Stiles slides open the loft door, looks up, and then turns bright red as he stares right at Derek making out with Braeden on the couch. His first reaction is heartbreak, because he thought the thing – the vague, unnamed, unbounded thing – between him and Derek was special, but apparently it’s not. This is followed immediately by embarrassment because Braeden’s bra is slipping and neither of them are wearing very much in the way of clothes.

“Oh, shit! Sorry. I’ll just….” He loses whatever he was going to say as Derek looks up from where he was kissing Braeden’s chest. His eyes glow yellow as they pin Stiles in place.

“Shut the door, Stiles.” Derek’s voice cuts through him, like it always does and he’s helpless but to obey.

“Right. Sorry.” He starts backing out. He doesn’t want to think what he looks like – heartbroken and shamed. He can’t meet Derek’s gaze.

“From the inside, Stiles.”

Stiles’s head snaps up as Derek rises from the couch. He’s a marvel of muscles and chiseled abs, clad only in boxer-briefs, and Stiles just wants to fall to his knees and suck Derek down. His eyes shift to Braeden as she sits up, hair falling in a wild cascade over her shoulders. She doesn’t look at all startled or concerned, but rather amused.

“Close the door.”