Teen Wolf Fic: Go to the Edge Sometime
Title: Go to the Edge Sometime
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Ethan/Aiden/Isaac
Rating: NC-17
Content advisory: Explicit non-con and memories of non-con, mentions of past abuse, victim blaming, self-loathing, and generally unhealthy attitudes
Note: A sequel to You Land Badly. Sorry, no comfort yet. I’m a terrible person. But there will be next time, I swear! Title from Dessa’s The Crow
Summary: No one else can know what Isaac’s done.
Isaac turns the hot water on as far as it will go. Apparently everyone’s still hanging around the new crime scene, so he has the locker room to himself. The water scalds. His skin keeps renewing itself, sending waves of healing through him. Isaac ignores the taut, shivery feeling the healing leaves behind. He remembers from biology class that your skin replaces itself every 35 days. He’s just speeding up the process. If he can get rid of every cell the twins touched, maybe the scent that seems to cling to his insides will go away, too.
A handful, two handfuls of soap from the dispenser on the wall don’t seem to make a difference. Even after Isaac reaches back between his legs and makes himself jab a soapy finger inside, he can still feel phantom smears of sticky come between his thighs.
The water’s started to go cold-or at least not boiling hot-when Isaac begins pulling splinters and bits of rock from the bleeding soles of his feet. Running through the woods barefoot and naked couldn’t have been comfortable, but he can’t remember the journey. He doesn’t know where his shoes are. He’ll have to go back, later, and find them. They’re his best shoes.
“Isaac! Hey, you in here?”
Isaac presses his hands flat against the tile and sticks his face into the spray determinedly, so he won’t pounce on the intruder, or whirl around with his teeth bared, or curl up in corner or anything else humiliating. He’s screwed up enough for one day. And the homeroom bell hasn’t even rung yet.
“Hey--? Oh, there you are.” Stiles appears in the shower room doorway, only to quickly avert his gaze when he notices Isaac’s unclothed state. “There is all of you.”
It’s just Stiles, Isaac tells himself. Not a threat of any kind, except maybe to rules about run-on sentence structure. He doesn’t have to be afraid. “What?” he snaps.
“Uh, hello, you just ran off?” Stiles keeps his back halfway turned, but he manages to convey an incredulous glare nonetheless. “And I’m pretty sure there’s someone going around sacrificing virgins, so it’s kind of a bad time to be randomly disappearing.”
“Why? It’s not like I’m in danger of being sacrificed.” Isaac’s laughter bounces off the tiles and multiplies, because that is just hilarious. He should probably thank Ethan and Aiden. In fact, he’s surprised they didn’t make him say thank you as well as please.
“Yeah, okay, lucky you,” Stiles says when the laughter has officially gone on too long. “And I think someone’s been in the steam a bit too long. Seriously, why is it like a sauna in here? Aren’t you naturally hot? I mean hot as in body temperature, not as in-ha, moving on. Wouldn’t you want, like, a cold shower after a run? I mean, I guess I use the term loosely, since we probably made it, what, less than a mile before the screaming and the death and all, which, hey, a mile is probably nothing for you, what with special werewolf stamina and whatnot, but honestly the only exercise I get regularly consists of running for my life, usually for distances of less than a mile, so it actually seemed pretty far for me, but what’s your excuse?”
Isaac watches the water drip down the mildewed tile, meandering in winding paths rather than straight lines. “I went off the trail.”
“Oh right.” Stiles ventures a look toward Isaac. “Chasing the twins, Scott said. You catch ‘em?”
“No.” Isaac hadn’t been the one doing the catching.
“Anyway, Scott’s still convinced the Alpha Pack isn’t involved. In the sacrificing of virgins, I mean. So I guess he wants you to-“
“Of course they’re involved. How stupid are you?” Isaac slaps his hands against the wet tile, and realizes his claws are out. He didn’t mean to do that. He could hurt someone. He could hurt Stiles. He could. He has the power to do it; Stiles couldn’t stop him. He could hold Stiles down easily, no matter how hard he struggled. Hell, Isaac could probably pin him with one hand. Isaac isn’t weak. Yes, Derek and Scott can easily best him in training. And the twins hadn’t had any trouble at all overpowering him. But Isaac isn’t easily breakable, isn’t made of tearable flesh that won’t heal. He has weapons. He has strength. He can hurt and kill.
“Uh, dude, stop with the growling. Someone’ll hear.”
Isaac’s claws scrape against the tile, creating a piercing screech that cuts through the rumble Isaac realizes is coming from him. He leans his forehead against the wall and breathes, concentrating on making the teeth and claws go away.
Behind him, Stiles takes a step into the shower room. His running shoes splash in the draining water. “Hey, you okay dude?”
“Fine.” Isaac flashes him a smile with the regular, human-sized assortment of teeth. “Is that it?”
“Uh, yeah.” Stiles ducks his head quickly. “Scott’s looking for you.”
“Right.” Isaac bolts from the shower, snags a towel from the rack, and wraps it firmly around his waist. Besides Stiles, half a dozen of his other teammates are back, changing into school clothes and talking in hushed tones about the latest dead guy.
Isaac tugs his locker open and holds tight to the door. He knows the marks the twins left have already healed, but he can’t believe no trace of what happened shows up on his body. Can’t believe that Stiles-whose whole thing was figuring out what’s going on-could look at him, totally exposed, and not see what’s wrong. Stiles and his stupid, useless, human senses that miss everything.
Isaac leans against the locker bank and closes his eyes. It’s good, he reminds himself. It’s good they can’t see what he did. Scott might not be that easy to fool, though. Isaac’s eyes dart desperately around the room, and land on the locker next to Stiles.
“Hey Danny,” he calls. “You still have that Armani?”
--
Isaac rehearses what he wants to say on the way back to the loft. He has to tell Derek something about the threat the twins have become. He can’t be responsible for putting his pack in any more danger than it is already. At least the confrontations with the twins at school will help explain any residual smell. Isaac might leave out the part about getting detention, though. He’s not supposed to draw attention to himself.
As soon as Isaac steps out of the elevator, he knows something’s wrong. The hallway smells off, somehow. “Derek?” he calls.
It occurs to him that the rest of the Alpha Pack hadn’t spent all day trying to learn algebra. They could have come after the rest of the pack while Isaac and Scott were busy pulling pranks to piss off the twins. “Derek!”
Isaac shoves open the heavy door to find a perfectly normal scene: Cora doing chin-ups with her headphones in, blasting music so loud Isaac winces from twenty feet away. “Hey, Cora!”
She looks his way, drops from the bar, and pulls off the headphones. The music keeps blasting. “Hey what?”
“Where’s Derek?”
“Upstairs,” she says slowly. “Something wrong?”
Isaac scans the mostly-empty room. It looks pretty much the same as it had when he left for cross country practice. A deep breath in reveals what’s bothering him. “It smells like blood in here.”
“Yeah.” Cora’s eyes jump to a spot on the floor near the table. “The Alpha pack stopped by.”
Isaac freezes. Cora doesn’t look hurt, but then again, neither does he. “Who? What did they-Who was it?”
“Deucalion, Ennis, and Kali. They just wanted to… talk.”
“Are you ok? Is Derek? Did they do-“
“Nothing permanent. Though I won’t say it didn’t make me all the more eager to claw them to pieces.” Cora drops to the floor and starts doing sit-ups at an impressive pace.
“And Derek’s okay?” Isaac casts an eye toward the stairs, but Derek doesn’t appear.
“Yeah. He just has some stuff to think about.”
“Right.” Isaac drops his backpack next to the couch. Rain is pelting down outside the window, but Isaac can barely hear it above the relentless beat still pouring out of Cora’s dangling headphones. Maybe it doesn’t bother her, or maybe she can regulate her super-sensitive hearing somehow. After all, she’s been a werewolf her whole life. She probably knows all kinds of stuff Isaac’s never learned. “So, hey, Cora… Is it a regular thing for the alpha in a pack to… uh…”
“What?” she asks without stopping.
“Like, stake a claim on their pack members with, you know, sex,” he says in a rush.
Cora stops in the middle of a sit-up to look back at him. “Well, my pack was my immediate family, so no. Nothing like that.” She returns to her set.
“Right.” But Derek’s pack were all bitten, so it had to be different. Isaac just needs to know if he’s missing something. If he’s screwed up in some crucial way, if he forfeited truly belonging to a pack because he never let Derek have him the way the twins did. Because if that’s the price for really belonging to a pack, Isaac will pay it. But if Derek has been holding back because he doesn’t really want Isaac around, not for keeps, then Isaac needs to know that, too. “Do other packs do it? Is it a thing?”
“Derek wouldn’t have sex with you,” Cora says, bypassing the hypothetical and skipping right to the end of the conversation, direct as always.
“Yeah. Sure,” he says quickly. It’s not like he wants to have sex with Derek. But Cora didn’t really answer his question.
“Where is this coming from?” She stops moving and raises an eyebrow at him.
“Just… something the twins said,” Isaac mumbles.
“You talked to them?”
“I saw them at school.”
Cora pushes to her feet and stalks toward Isaac. “And you just let them go? After what they did to us? After Erica? That’s your pack. She was one of yours. Doesn’t that matter to you?”
“They’re alphas.” Isaac stares at the floor. “I couldn’t-“
“Hey.” Cora snaps her fingers in front of his face, and he looks up. “If you’re too afraid to help, fine. Just stay out of the way, and don’t talk to them. We don’t need them to get anything out of you they could use against us.”
“I know.”
They both turn when Derek stomps down the stairs. He’s holding a familiar-looking duffel bag, one that had been on Isaac’s floor this morning. He smells like a gathering storm.
He stops in front of the window, and drops the bag on the table. “Isaac,” he says. “You need to leave.”
--
Scott snores. Not that Isaac would have been able to sleep anyway, probably. He’s not great at sleeping in strange places. His borrowed sleeping bag smells like grass and dirt, and he’s fighting the urge to take another shower. If he does, he’ll wash off the last of Danny’s cologne, and be left with the smell of his own contaminated skin. Grass and dirt are far preferable to that.
A beep from Isaac’s phone interrupts the rhythm of Scott’s snores. Isaac waits to see if he’ll stir-he doesn’t-before pulling his phone off the charger. He hits “view message” automatically.
The video lights up the screen: patchy morning sunlight filtering down through the trees to where Isaac is naked, mouth open, eyes closed, panting rapidly as he bounces on Ethan’s cock. He’s got a hand wrapped around his own obvious erection. Getting off. Video-Ethan’s loud ground fuzzes out the speakers.
Isaac throws the phone and scrambles backwards until he hits the wall.
“What?” Scott flails in his sheets. “What?” When he finally manages to sit up, his eyes dart first to where Isaac is clinging to the wall, then to the phone lying abandoned on the floor next to the bed. Obscene noises are still emanating from it in sporadic bursts.
“Are you watching-is that porn?” Scott’s brow furrows. “You’re watching porn on your phone?”
“You were asleep,” Isaac says faintly. He can hear his own ragged breath on the soundtrack of the video. He prays Scott doesn’t recognize it.
“That’s what the shower’s for, dude.” Scott reaches down, picks up the phone, and tosses it onto the sleeping bag without looking at it. Then throws himself down on the bed and pulls a pillow over his head.
Isaac reaches for the phone, makes himself touch it. He stabs at the buttons until the playback stops, frozen on a close-up of his face, slack with release. He stumbles down the hall to the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He turns on the shower, because Scott might be listening, but kneels next to the toilet in case he has to throw up, which seems increasingly likely.
The phone is still in his hand, the hard edge of it digging into his palm. He hadn’t known. He’d seen Aiden with the phone, but he didn’t think. Of course they’d want proof. Their marks wouldn’t be visible on Isaac’s skin, but they’d still have this, establishing without a doubt that they hadn’t really hurt Isaac at all. Nobody getting hurt would sound like that.
When the phone beeps again, Isaac considers dropping it in the toilet. Instead, he makes himself look at the screen. It’s a different number. Isaac presses view message.
Thanks again for today. Come to the boiler room before morning practice. We want to see you again. -E.
There isn’t a threat. There doesn’t need to be. The video speaks for itself. Isaac can see the cruel smirk on Aiden’s face, can hear the same laughter he’d heard when he lay struggling in the dirt. He deletes both messages before stepping into the scalding-hot shower.
When he gets back to the room, Scott’s still awake. He rolls over when Isaac climbs into his sleeping bag. “Uh, hey. I didn’t mean to be a jerk about… I’m grumpy when I get woken up. I don’t care about that stuff. You can watch whatever. I mean, I want this place to be like home to you. You can stay as long as you need to. I just want you to feel comfortable here.” The silence must have gone on a little too long, because Scott leans forward into a patch of moonlight and squints at him. “Isaac?”
“Yeah. Thanks,” Isaac says. And that’s the thing; something about being here helps. The fact that he can actually lie down and close his eyes without his body screaming at him of danger is an incredible luxury. After a session in the freezer, he used to spend nights sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, wrapped in one of his mom’s old quilts, fighting exhaustion because closing his eyes would be worse. Even at the places he’d been with Derek-the train depot, the Hale house, even the loft-when he’d wake up in the night, he couldn’t get back to sleep afterwards; something about the unfamiliar smells convinced his body he wasn’t safe.
But here, Isaac can already feel himself giving in to sleep. Even after the day he’s had, his body gets the message that nothing will hurt him here, not while Scott’s around.
Isaac switches his phone to silent and tosses it on top of his duffel bag. He’ll do what he has to so Scott will let him stay. “Sorry,” he says. “It won’t happen again.”
--
Isaac hadn’t thought this would be easy, exactly, but he’d underestimated how difficult it would be. He panics halfway through. He fights with all his strength, lets out his claws and teeth, and screams. Aiden rides it out, laughing like Isaac’s a wild horse he’s trying to break.
Ethan keeps Isaac’s shoulder pinned, face to the cold concrete as he struggles, but he pets Isaac’s bare skin and mutters encouragements while Aiden is inside him. “You’re so gorgeous like this, Isaac. You’re doing really well.”
Aiden pounds into Isaac like he wants to rip him in half, but Isaac welcomes the pain. He feeds it to the bitter ember glowing in the center of his chest, and keeps his anger alive. Aiden bites down with flat, human teeth on the back of Isaac’s neck, and Isaac stops fighting. He keeps biting down as he comes inside Isaac.
Ethan wants Isaac on his back. “So I can look at him,” Ethan says. “I didn’t get to look at him last time.”
They push Isaac’s legs up against his chest, and Aiden crouches behind him, holding his shoulders, even though Isaac’s stopped struggling. Ethan slides inside slowly, and everything is so loose and slick, there’s no pain.
“See?” Ethan brushes his fingers against Isaac’s cheek. “It’s like you were made for this.”
Isaac squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to watch, but he can’t close his ears to Aiden’s whispers, which are just barely louder than the slap of flesh on flesh.
“Now that you got me suspended, I have a lot more time to think about all the ways you can show you’re sorry,” Aiden says. “You’ve got a lot to make up for, you know. I mean, other than this, you’re basically useless, aren’t you?”
“Fuck you,” Isaac pants.
“Hey, be nice,” Ethan says. “Your mouth could really get you into trouble.” His thumb slides against Isaac’s lower lip, dipping in just enough to get wet before trailing down Isaac’s naked chest. “Just relax.”
It’s hard to relax when Ethan’s sliding into him slow and sweet, and squeezing his hand around Isaac’s dick. Somehow he brings Isaac to the edge faster than he could on his own. Isaac’s anger has sunk below the repeated waves of sensation. He tries to lie still, but his hips buck up against Ethan’s touch, seeking more friction.
“Oh man.” Aiden’s low laugh rumbles in Isaac’s ears. “What would your pack say if they knew how much you love this?”
“I don’t love it,” Isaac grits out.
“Bullshit. Your alpha smelled it on you. That’s why he threw you out. It’s bad enough you can’t defend yourself, but this? No alpha could forgive a betrayal like this. You gave it up so easily, Isaac.” Aiden’s hands stray from Isaac’s shoulders to trace down his sides, sending shivers across Isaac’s flushed skin. “I mean, we barely had to try. Seems like you were just looking for an excuse to get used this way.”
Isaac tries to slap Aiden’s hands away, but his wrists are easily caught and pinned against his chest. “No-I didn’t. Derek-He doesn’t know. He wouldn’t have… He couldn’t know.”
Aiden grins down at him. “Then why?”
Isaac opens his mouth to answer, then clenches his teeth against a groan as Ethan thumbs over the head of his cock.
“That’s what I thought.” Aiden releases his grip on Isaac, but Isaac just lays still, fight drained out of him. “Scott might be a little slower to catch on, but if he sees that video… How you going to explain that?”
A small whimper escapes Isaac’s control as Ethan’s cock slides against the spot that sends heat flooding Isaac’s veins.
“Aren’t we supposed to be the enemy?” Aiden asks.
“Don’t. Don’t.” Isaac clutches at Ethan’s arms.
“Relax.” Ethan brushes a damp curl off Isaac’s forehead. “You keep playing nice with us, and we’ll return the favor.”
“See, we can be reasonable.” Aiden has his phone out again, and Isaac hears the click of the camera app. “I’m getting your good side.” He turns the phone around briefly to show Isaac the shot: Isaac with arched back and closed eyes, clinging to Ethan’s arms as he’s fucked. “And hey, this extra free time I’ve got is going to come in handy. Anytime I want you, I know you’re going to help me out. Maybe out behind the school during your free period. Or in the locker room after practice. Or what about at McCall’s house while he’s at work? We could have a study party.”
“Stay away from him,” Isaac snaps. He tries to sit up, but Ethan firmly presses him back down.
“He’s a good guy, Scott,” Ethan says. “But I don’t think he can give you what you need.” He punctuates that statement with a devastating series of strokes down Isaac’s length that make him cant his hips up, seeking more.
“Well, Deucalion seems to think there’s something special about him,” Aiden says. “I get the impression he’s a big believer in loyalty. Do you think he’d ever trust you again, once he’s seen you coming with Ethan’s cock inside you? Derek certainly didn’t waste any time getting rid of you. You’re lucky McCall hasn’t figured it out yet.”
Isaac bites the inside of his cheek and tastes blood. Scott had been so close last night. If he’d looked at the screen or recognized the sounds-No. He wasn’t going to find out. “Don’t tell him. Please don’t tell him.”
“Don’t tell him how much you love this? How you rolled over for us right away? Don’t think he’ll believe you didn’t ask for this.” Aiden leans in so close Isaac can feel the heat from his skin. “It’s inevitable; the strongest take what they want, and the weak ones have to give it up. And we’re the strong ones now. The wolf in you knows that, it respects that. It wants this. You think Scott will keep you around once he knows how easy you were to take?”
Ethan’s expert touch has already driven Isaac to the knife’s edge. He shakes his head frantically against the floor as Ethan’s cock inside him, his hands all over, threaten to make Isaac spill. “Please, please.”
“It’s okay,” Ethan soothes. “You’re okay. Just tell Aiden what he wants to hear.”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can. You’re almost there.” A gentle hand fondling Isaac’s balls drags a desperate groan out of him and drives home the point. “Just say you’ll be good, and we’ll finish this.”
“Or don’t.” Aiden shrugs. “I’ll text him the video right now. In fact, maybe I should do a mass text. I bet the whole school would-“
“Don’t!” Isaac shouts. He can’t think with his blood rushing so loudly through his veins. He just wants this to be done. “I’ll be good. I’ll do what you want.”
“Anything?” Aiden asks with a smirk.
“Whatever you want. Please.”
“Good. Good boy.” Aiden nods. “Now make yourself come.”
Isaac reaches down to stroke himself. He grits his teeth against frustration as his orgasm eludes him, but then Ethan is helping, slamming into Isaac with enough force to bruise. The pain pushes him over the edge, and he spills over his fingers.
He slumps against the concrete, dead weight, while Ethan finishes inside him. Ethan leans down to press a kiss to Isaac’s belly before he pulls out. He stands up and zips his pants, looking perfectly composed, like it hadn’t took any effort at all to tear Isaac apart this way.
Isaac realizes his legs are still splayed open. He drags them closed. He moves to wipe his sticky hand on the floor, but Aiden snaps, “No. Lick it clean.”
Isaac shuts his eyes for as long as it takes him to lick the come off all five fingers and his palm. When he opens his eyes, the twins are gone.
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Ethan/Aiden/Isaac
Rating: NC-17
Content advisory: Explicit non-con and memories of non-con, mentions of past abuse, victim blaming, self-loathing, and generally unhealthy attitudes
Note: A sequel to You Land Badly. Sorry, no comfort yet. I’m a terrible person. But there will be next time, I swear! Title from Dessa’s The Crow
Summary: No one else can know what Isaac’s done.
Isaac turns the hot water on as far as it will go. Apparently everyone’s still hanging around the new crime scene, so he has the locker room to himself. The water scalds. His skin keeps renewing itself, sending waves of healing through him. Isaac ignores the taut, shivery feeling the healing leaves behind. He remembers from biology class that your skin replaces itself every 35 days. He’s just speeding up the process. If he can get rid of every cell the twins touched, maybe the scent that seems to cling to his insides will go away, too.
A handful, two handfuls of soap from the dispenser on the wall don’t seem to make a difference. Even after Isaac reaches back between his legs and makes himself jab a soapy finger inside, he can still feel phantom smears of sticky come between his thighs.
The water’s started to go cold-or at least not boiling hot-when Isaac begins pulling splinters and bits of rock from the bleeding soles of his feet. Running through the woods barefoot and naked couldn’t have been comfortable, but he can’t remember the journey. He doesn’t know where his shoes are. He’ll have to go back, later, and find them. They’re his best shoes.
“Isaac! Hey, you in here?”
Isaac presses his hands flat against the tile and sticks his face into the spray determinedly, so he won’t pounce on the intruder, or whirl around with his teeth bared, or curl up in corner or anything else humiliating. He’s screwed up enough for one day. And the homeroom bell hasn’t even rung yet.
“Hey--? Oh, there you are.” Stiles appears in the shower room doorway, only to quickly avert his gaze when he notices Isaac’s unclothed state. “There is all of you.”
It’s just Stiles, Isaac tells himself. Not a threat of any kind, except maybe to rules about run-on sentence structure. He doesn’t have to be afraid. “What?” he snaps.
“Uh, hello, you just ran off?” Stiles keeps his back halfway turned, but he manages to convey an incredulous glare nonetheless. “And I’m pretty sure there’s someone going around sacrificing virgins, so it’s kind of a bad time to be randomly disappearing.”
“Why? It’s not like I’m in danger of being sacrificed.” Isaac’s laughter bounces off the tiles and multiplies, because that is just hilarious. He should probably thank Ethan and Aiden. In fact, he’s surprised they didn’t make him say thank you as well as please.
“Yeah, okay, lucky you,” Stiles says when the laughter has officially gone on too long. “And I think someone’s been in the steam a bit too long. Seriously, why is it like a sauna in here? Aren’t you naturally hot? I mean hot as in body temperature, not as in-ha, moving on. Wouldn’t you want, like, a cold shower after a run? I mean, I guess I use the term loosely, since we probably made it, what, less than a mile before the screaming and the death and all, which, hey, a mile is probably nothing for you, what with special werewolf stamina and whatnot, but honestly the only exercise I get regularly consists of running for my life, usually for distances of less than a mile, so it actually seemed pretty far for me, but what’s your excuse?”
Isaac watches the water drip down the mildewed tile, meandering in winding paths rather than straight lines. “I went off the trail.”
“Oh right.” Stiles ventures a look toward Isaac. “Chasing the twins, Scott said. You catch ‘em?”
“No.” Isaac hadn’t been the one doing the catching.
“Anyway, Scott’s still convinced the Alpha Pack isn’t involved. In the sacrificing of virgins, I mean. So I guess he wants you to-“
“Of course they’re involved. How stupid are you?” Isaac slaps his hands against the wet tile, and realizes his claws are out. He didn’t mean to do that. He could hurt someone. He could hurt Stiles. He could. He has the power to do it; Stiles couldn’t stop him. He could hold Stiles down easily, no matter how hard he struggled. Hell, Isaac could probably pin him with one hand. Isaac isn’t weak. Yes, Derek and Scott can easily best him in training. And the twins hadn’t had any trouble at all overpowering him. But Isaac isn’t easily breakable, isn’t made of tearable flesh that won’t heal. He has weapons. He has strength. He can hurt and kill.
“Uh, dude, stop with the growling. Someone’ll hear.”
Isaac’s claws scrape against the tile, creating a piercing screech that cuts through the rumble Isaac realizes is coming from him. He leans his forehead against the wall and breathes, concentrating on making the teeth and claws go away.
Behind him, Stiles takes a step into the shower room. His running shoes splash in the draining water. “Hey, you okay dude?”
“Fine.” Isaac flashes him a smile with the regular, human-sized assortment of teeth. “Is that it?”
“Uh, yeah.” Stiles ducks his head quickly. “Scott’s looking for you.”
“Right.” Isaac bolts from the shower, snags a towel from the rack, and wraps it firmly around his waist. Besides Stiles, half a dozen of his other teammates are back, changing into school clothes and talking in hushed tones about the latest dead guy.
Isaac tugs his locker open and holds tight to the door. He knows the marks the twins left have already healed, but he can’t believe no trace of what happened shows up on his body. Can’t believe that Stiles-whose whole thing was figuring out what’s going on-could look at him, totally exposed, and not see what’s wrong. Stiles and his stupid, useless, human senses that miss everything.
Isaac leans against the locker bank and closes his eyes. It’s good, he reminds himself. It’s good they can’t see what he did. Scott might not be that easy to fool, though. Isaac’s eyes dart desperately around the room, and land on the locker next to Stiles.
“Hey Danny,” he calls. “You still have that Armani?”
--
Isaac rehearses what he wants to say on the way back to the loft. He has to tell Derek something about the threat the twins have become. He can’t be responsible for putting his pack in any more danger than it is already. At least the confrontations with the twins at school will help explain any residual smell. Isaac might leave out the part about getting detention, though. He’s not supposed to draw attention to himself.
As soon as Isaac steps out of the elevator, he knows something’s wrong. The hallway smells off, somehow. “Derek?” he calls.
It occurs to him that the rest of the Alpha Pack hadn’t spent all day trying to learn algebra. They could have come after the rest of the pack while Isaac and Scott were busy pulling pranks to piss off the twins. “Derek!”
Isaac shoves open the heavy door to find a perfectly normal scene: Cora doing chin-ups with her headphones in, blasting music so loud Isaac winces from twenty feet away. “Hey, Cora!”
She looks his way, drops from the bar, and pulls off the headphones. The music keeps blasting. “Hey what?”
“Where’s Derek?”
“Upstairs,” she says slowly. “Something wrong?”
Isaac scans the mostly-empty room. It looks pretty much the same as it had when he left for cross country practice. A deep breath in reveals what’s bothering him. “It smells like blood in here.”
“Yeah.” Cora’s eyes jump to a spot on the floor near the table. “The Alpha pack stopped by.”
Isaac freezes. Cora doesn’t look hurt, but then again, neither does he. “Who? What did they-Who was it?”
“Deucalion, Ennis, and Kali. They just wanted to… talk.”
“Are you ok? Is Derek? Did they do-“
“Nothing permanent. Though I won’t say it didn’t make me all the more eager to claw them to pieces.” Cora drops to the floor and starts doing sit-ups at an impressive pace.
“And Derek’s okay?” Isaac casts an eye toward the stairs, but Derek doesn’t appear.
“Yeah. He just has some stuff to think about.”
“Right.” Isaac drops his backpack next to the couch. Rain is pelting down outside the window, but Isaac can barely hear it above the relentless beat still pouring out of Cora’s dangling headphones. Maybe it doesn’t bother her, or maybe she can regulate her super-sensitive hearing somehow. After all, she’s been a werewolf her whole life. She probably knows all kinds of stuff Isaac’s never learned. “So, hey, Cora… Is it a regular thing for the alpha in a pack to… uh…”
“What?” she asks without stopping.
“Like, stake a claim on their pack members with, you know, sex,” he says in a rush.
Cora stops in the middle of a sit-up to look back at him. “Well, my pack was my immediate family, so no. Nothing like that.” She returns to her set.
“Right.” But Derek’s pack were all bitten, so it had to be different. Isaac just needs to know if he’s missing something. If he’s screwed up in some crucial way, if he forfeited truly belonging to a pack because he never let Derek have him the way the twins did. Because if that’s the price for really belonging to a pack, Isaac will pay it. But if Derek has been holding back because he doesn’t really want Isaac around, not for keeps, then Isaac needs to know that, too. “Do other packs do it? Is it a thing?”
“Derek wouldn’t have sex with you,” Cora says, bypassing the hypothetical and skipping right to the end of the conversation, direct as always.
“Yeah. Sure,” he says quickly. It’s not like he wants to have sex with Derek. But Cora didn’t really answer his question.
“Where is this coming from?” She stops moving and raises an eyebrow at him.
“Just… something the twins said,” Isaac mumbles.
“You talked to them?”
“I saw them at school.”
Cora pushes to her feet and stalks toward Isaac. “And you just let them go? After what they did to us? After Erica? That’s your pack. She was one of yours. Doesn’t that matter to you?”
“They’re alphas.” Isaac stares at the floor. “I couldn’t-“
“Hey.” Cora snaps her fingers in front of his face, and he looks up. “If you’re too afraid to help, fine. Just stay out of the way, and don’t talk to them. We don’t need them to get anything out of you they could use against us.”
“I know.”
They both turn when Derek stomps down the stairs. He’s holding a familiar-looking duffel bag, one that had been on Isaac’s floor this morning. He smells like a gathering storm.
He stops in front of the window, and drops the bag on the table. “Isaac,” he says. “You need to leave.”
--
Scott snores. Not that Isaac would have been able to sleep anyway, probably. He’s not great at sleeping in strange places. His borrowed sleeping bag smells like grass and dirt, and he’s fighting the urge to take another shower. If he does, he’ll wash off the last of Danny’s cologne, and be left with the smell of his own contaminated skin. Grass and dirt are far preferable to that.
A beep from Isaac’s phone interrupts the rhythm of Scott’s snores. Isaac waits to see if he’ll stir-he doesn’t-before pulling his phone off the charger. He hits “view message” automatically.
The video lights up the screen: patchy morning sunlight filtering down through the trees to where Isaac is naked, mouth open, eyes closed, panting rapidly as he bounces on Ethan’s cock. He’s got a hand wrapped around his own obvious erection. Getting off. Video-Ethan’s loud ground fuzzes out the speakers.
Isaac throws the phone and scrambles backwards until he hits the wall.
“What?” Scott flails in his sheets. “What?” When he finally manages to sit up, his eyes dart first to where Isaac is clinging to the wall, then to the phone lying abandoned on the floor next to the bed. Obscene noises are still emanating from it in sporadic bursts.
“Are you watching-is that porn?” Scott’s brow furrows. “You’re watching porn on your phone?”
“You were asleep,” Isaac says faintly. He can hear his own ragged breath on the soundtrack of the video. He prays Scott doesn’t recognize it.
“That’s what the shower’s for, dude.” Scott reaches down, picks up the phone, and tosses it onto the sleeping bag without looking at it. Then throws himself down on the bed and pulls a pillow over his head.
Isaac reaches for the phone, makes himself touch it. He stabs at the buttons until the playback stops, frozen on a close-up of his face, slack with release. He stumbles down the hall to the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He turns on the shower, because Scott might be listening, but kneels next to the toilet in case he has to throw up, which seems increasingly likely.
The phone is still in his hand, the hard edge of it digging into his palm. He hadn’t known. He’d seen Aiden with the phone, but he didn’t think. Of course they’d want proof. Their marks wouldn’t be visible on Isaac’s skin, but they’d still have this, establishing without a doubt that they hadn’t really hurt Isaac at all. Nobody getting hurt would sound like that.
When the phone beeps again, Isaac considers dropping it in the toilet. Instead, he makes himself look at the screen. It’s a different number. Isaac presses view message.
Thanks again for today. Come to the boiler room before morning practice. We want to see you again. -E.
There isn’t a threat. There doesn’t need to be. The video speaks for itself. Isaac can see the cruel smirk on Aiden’s face, can hear the same laughter he’d heard when he lay struggling in the dirt. He deletes both messages before stepping into the scalding-hot shower.
When he gets back to the room, Scott’s still awake. He rolls over when Isaac climbs into his sleeping bag. “Uh, hey. I didn’t mean to be a jerk about… I’m grumpy when I get woken up. I don’t care about that stuff. You can watch whatever. I mean, I want this place to be like home to you. You can stay as long as you need to. I just want you to feel comfortable here.” The silence must have gone on a little too long, because Scott leans forward into a patch of moonlight and squints at him. “Isaac?”
“Yeah. Thanks,” Isaac says. And that’s the thing; something about being here helps. The fact that he can actually lie down and close his eyes without his body screaming at him of danger is an incredible luxury. After a session in the freezer, he used to spend nights sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, wrapped in one of his mom’s old quilts, fighting exhaustion because closing his eyes would be worse. Even at the places he’d been with Derek-the train depot, the Hale house, even the loft-when he’d wake up in the night, he couldn’t get back to sleep afterwards; something about the unfamiliar smells convinced his body he wasn’t safe.
But here, Isaac can already feel himself giving in to sleep. Even after the day he’s had, his body gets the message that nothing will hurt him here, not while Scott’s around.
Isaac switches his phone to silent and tosses it on top of his duffel bag. He’ll do what he has to so Scott will let him stay. “Sorry,” he says. “It won’t happen again.”
--
Isaac hadn’t thought this would be easy, exactly, but he’d underestimated how difficult it would be. He panics halfway through. He fights with all his strength, lets out his claws and teeth, and screams. Aiden rides it out, laughing like Isaac’s a wild horse he’s trying to break.
Ethan keeps Isaac’s shoulder pinned, face to the cold concrete as he struggles, but he pets Isaac’s bare skin and mutters encouragements while Aiden is inside him. “You’re so gorgeous like this, Isaac. You’re doing really well.”
Aiden pounds into Isaac like he wants to rip him in half, but Isaac welcomes the pain. He feeds it to the bitter ember glowing in the center of his chest, and keeps his anger alive. Aiden bites down with flat, human teeth on the back of Isaac’s neck, and Isaac stops fighting. He keeps biting down as he comes inside Isaac.
Ethan wants Isaac on his back. “So I can look at him,” Ethan says. “I didn’t get to look at him last time.”
They push Isaac’s legs up against his chest, and Aiden crouches behind him, holding his shoulders, even though Isaac’s stopped struggling. Ethan slides inside slowly, and everything is so loose and slick, there’s no pain.
“See?” Ethan brushes his fingers against Isaac’s cheek. “It’s like you were made for this.”
Isaac squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to watch, but he can’t close his ears to Aiden’s whispers, which are just barely louder than the slap of flesh on flesh.
“Now that you got me suspended, I have a lot more time to think about all the ways you can show you’re sorry,” Aiden says. “You’ve got a lot to make up for, you know. I mean, other than this, you’re basically useless, aren’t you?”
“Fuck you,” Isaac pants.
“Hey, be nice,” Ethan says. “Your mouth could really get you into trouble.” His thumb slides against Isaac’s lower lip, dipping in just enough to get wet before trailing down Isaac’s naked chest. “Just relax.”
It’s hard to relax when Ethan’s sliding into him slow and sweet, and squeezing his hand around Isaac’s dick. Somehow he brings Isaac to the edge faster than he could on his own. Isaac’s anger has sunk below the repeated waves of sensation. He tries to lie still, but his hips buck up against Ethan’s touch, seeking more friction.
“Oh man.” Aiden’s low laugh rumbles in Isaac’s ears. “What would your pack say if they knew how much you love this?”
“I don’t love it,” Isaac grits out.
“Bullshit. Your alpha smelled it on you. That’s why he threw you out. It’s bad enough you can’t defend yourself, but this? No alpha could forgive a betrayal like this. You gave it up so easily, Isaac.” Aiden’s hands stray from Isaac’s shoulders to trace down his sides, sending shivers across Isaac’s flushed skin. “I mean, we barely had to try. Seems like you were just looking for an excuse to get used this way.”
Isaac tries to slap Aiden’s hands away, but his wrists are easily caught and pinned against his chest. “No-I didn’t. Derek-He doesn’t know. He wouldn’t have… He couldn’t know.”
Aiden grins down at him. “Then why?”
Isaac opens his mouth to answer, then clenches his teeth against a groan as Ethan thumbs over the head of his cock.
“That’s what I thought.” Aiden releases his grip on Isaac, but Isaac just lays still, fight drained out of him. “Scott might be a little slower to catch on, but if he sees that video… How you going to explain that?”
A small whimper escapes Isaac’s control as Ethan’s cock slides against the spot that sends heat flooding Isaac’s veins.
“Aren’t we supposed to be the enemy?” Aiden asks.
“Don’t. Don’t.” Isaac clutches at Ethan’s arms.
“Relax.” Ethan brushes a damp curl off Isaac’s forehead. “You keep playing nice with us, and we’ll return the favor.”
“See, we can be reasonable.” Aiden has his phone out again, and Isaac hears the click of the camera app. “I’m getting your good side.” He turns the phone around briefly to show Isaac the shot: Isaac with arched back and closed eyes, clinging to Ethan’s arms as he’s fucked. “And hey, this extra free time I’ve got is going to come in handy. Anytime I want you, I know you’re going to help me out. Maybe out behind the school during your free period. Or in the locker room after practice. Or what about at McCall’s house while he’s at work? We could have a study party.”
“Stay away from him,” Isaac snaps. He tries to sit up, but Ethan firmly presses him back down.
“He’s a good guy, Scott,” Ethan says. “But I don’t think he can give you what you need.” He punctuates that statement with a devastating series of strokes down Isaac’s length that make him cant his hips up, seeking more.
“Well, Deucalion seems to think there’s something special about him,” Aiden says. “I get the impression he’s a big believer in loyalty. Do you think he’d ever trust you again, once he’s seen you coming with Ethan’s cock inside you? Derek certainly didn’t waste any time getting rid of you. You’re lucky McCall hasn’t figured it out yet.”
Isaac bites the inside of his cheek and tastes blood. Scott had been so close last night. If he’d looked at the screen or recognized the sounds-No. He wasn’t going to find out. “Don’t tell him. Please don’t tell him.”
“Don’t tell him how much you love this? How you rolled over for us right away? Don’t think he’ll believe you didn’t ask for this.” Aiden leans in so close Isaac can feel the heat from his skin. “It’s inevitable; the strongest take what they want, and the weak ones have to give it up. And we’re the strong ones now. The wolf in you knows that, it respects that. It wants this. You think Scott will keep you around once he knows how easy you were to take?”
Ethan’s expert touch has already driven Isaac to the knife’s edge. He shakes his head frantically against the floor as Ethan’s cock inside him, his hands all over, threaten to make Isaac spill. “Please, please.”
“It’s okay,” Ethan soothes. “You’re okay. Just tell Aiden what he wants to hear.”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can. You’re almost there.” A gentle hand fondling Isaac’s balls drags a desperate groan out of him and drives home the point. “Just say you’ll be good, and we’ll finish this.”
“Or don’t.” Aiden shrugs. “I’ll text him the video right now. In fact, maybe I should do a mass text. I bet the whole school would-“
“Don’t!” Isaac shouts. He can’t think with his blood rushing so loudly through his veins. He just wants this to be done. “I’ll be good. I’ll do what you want.”
“Anything?” Aiden asks with a smirk.
“Whatever you want. Please.”
“Good. Good boy.” Aiden nods. “Now make yourself come.”
Isaac reaches down to stroke himself. He grits his teeth against frustration as his orgasm eludes him, but then Ethan is helping, slamming into Isaac with enough force to bruise. The pain pushes him over the edge, and he spills over his fingers.
He slumps against the concrete, dead weight, while Ethan finishes inside him. Ethan leans down to press a kiss to Isaac’s belly before he pulls out. He stands up and zips his pants, looking perfectly composed, like it hadn’t took any effort at all to tear Isaac apart this way.
Isaac realizes his legs are still splayed open. He drags them closed. He moves to wipe his sticky hand on the floor, but Aiden snaps, “No. Lick it clean.”
Isaac shuts his eyes for as long as it takes him to lick the come off all five fingers and his palm. When he opens his eyes, the twins are gone.