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When Stiles had gotten wrapped up in all the werewolf business he’d all but given up hope of a normal life, and when he’d fallen into bed with Peter Hale and Chris Argent he’d kissed it goodbye completely. So when they’d cornered him with college brochures he’d been a lot surprised and pleased, but also kind of worried. Relationships in general are tricky, add in the age difference (Stiles refuses to acknowledge that it’s more of a generation gap), the distance, and multiply by three, because, well, PeterChrisStiles, and Stiles is a little terrified that this is Peter and Chris trying to trick him into leaving them. No one else is really happy about their relationship, because any one factor is enough to garner a stern lecture, and Peter and Chris had both tried really hard to convince Stiles that he should really consider someone his own age and hopefully also someone with fewer issues. Okay, so it was mostly Chris while Peter inevitably distracted them all with incredibly awesome sexytiems, but whatever, Stiles knows that while what they have is awesome, he’s kind of clearly the odd man out (again, always).
He’s barely legal now and certainly wasn’t when they started- whatever this is. It’s not Stiles’ fault that while most of the US is reasonable and has 16 as the age of consent that California has to be so ridiculous about it. But whatever, because Stiles is still sleeping with two men who are literally old enough to be his father, which should probably be a problem no matter what age you are, but Stiles doesn’t really care. He loves Peter’s wit and savage devotion and Chris’s steadfast determination and subtle badassery and just Peter and Chris and PeterandChris (not to mention they are both ridiculously attractive, oh my god), and most days Stiles is pretty sure that the feeling is mutual all around even though they’re all kind of horribly damaged in various fashions and can’t be bothered to emote outside of some really fantastically amazingly awesome sex (and ridiculously possessive behaviour on Peter’s part that Stiles or Chris or both should probably object to but pretty much just leaves them both with giant boners, so whatever, moving on).
But then the college brochures happen and Stiles can’t help but feel that maybe they’re trying to trick him out of whatever it is they have going on, because Stiles had been pretty sure it had been chugging along fine, but now they’re trying to send him away. Except they’re ridiculously attentive and supportive the entire time (no, really, they’re more terrifyingly invested in Stiles’ college applications than his dad and that is probably not a comparison Stiles wanted to make, ever). And more than once Stiles catches them wrapped up in each other, just holding each other in the kitchen or the hallway, murmuring reassurances to each other that this is the right thing for Stiles, and that they’ll be able to let him go because it’s what they should do, and Stiles needs to go out and see the world, and a whole bunch of other bullshit platitudes that leave Stiles kind of furious for the half-second it takes him to realise that they don’t want to let him go at all.
So the three of them curl up in bed with Stiles’ college brochures and Peter’s laptop and research the shit out of things, and then Stiles puts in his applications and takes the SAT twice, just in case. They go on college tours where people undoubtedly think he’s touring with his gay fathers, which leads to some awesomely energetic hotel room sex and one notable incident of borderline public indecency, so Stiles isn’t really bothered so much by that after the first couple tours. They sit down with highlighters and graphs and lists and go over the schools, and eventually Peter and Chris both just kiss Stiles to get him to shut up and stall his whirring brain for a bit (or a couple hours, who’s counting), and he finally picks a school. Then graduation rolls around, summer goes by far too quickly, and soon Stiles is off to his new college.
And Stiles kind of likes college. There’s a lot to do and learn, and some pretty interesting people (as well as some complete fucking doucheboxes, but that’s life). He calls Peter and Chris and tries to convince them that yes, phone sex is an AMAZING idea and they should totally try it, but after the second time his roommate (Salvador III, call me Trey) had walked in on Stiles panting with his earbuds hooked up to his phone and one hand on his cock and the other three fingers deep in his ass he decided that maybe that wasn’t such a great plan since his roommate couldn’t fucking figure out that a tie on the doorknob meant private Stiles time, thank you. He has some really interesting classes, and some absolutely boring lectures, and the Women’s Studies seminar he took on a whim which actually turned out to be either the best or worst decision of his college career thus far depending on whether he’s fed up with bullshit or really wants to troll Tim, this senior who rows heavyweight crew and clearly is only in the seminar at all because of some girl who’d dropped the class after two lectures and apparently dropped Tim around the same time. It’s a toss up.
And right after midterms Freshman Council announces they’re putting on something called a Screw, which is apparently a tradition and involves setting up your suite/roommates on blind dates for some sort of dance. The name is clearly meant to be witty but really only makes Stiles cringe a little, because after a couple years with Peter it’s sort of an ingrained reflex and also the potential for bad things happening is kind of overwhelming. But it’s part of the whole ~college experience~ (mental jazz hands and everything, thanks), so when his suitemates and roommate all sit down to powwow what sort of people to set each other up with so it’s not an unmitigated disaster Stiles stifles his reflex to shock and appall everyone and just throws out that he likes older men, because it’s true and he can already hear Peter laughing and Chris huffing quietly into the phone when he tells them.
Luckily, his roommate has been talking nonstop about this girl from his Bio lab, and when he emails her suitemates it turns out that it’s a match made in heaven because she is apparently two braincells away from constructing a shrine in her closet out of Trey’s used gum. Gross, whatever. Unluckily, Stiles suitemates somehow manage to set him up with none other than Tim-the-Amazing-Rowing-Twatchop, who is apparently experiencing some sort of self-esteem/sexuality crisis because he’s a) agreed to go to the Freshman Screw, and b) Stiles clearly does not have a vagina. Even if their suitemates did arrange their meetup by creating custom Magic cards with Stiles as a legendary creature and his (hah) date having a card with the required 9,001 mana needed to cast, Stiles is not on board with the evening and ditches as soon as possible only to get back to his suite and find, what else, a tie on his bedroom door and some pretty loud moaning coming from the other side. He spends the night in the library passive aggressively tweeting about double standards in sexiling.
This may or may not have a direct impact on why Peter and Chris say they want to come visit Stiles for a weekend, because surely half a semester is long enough for Stiles to acclimate to life without them. This is also, coincidentally, Stiles is sure, about how long it took for the clothes he stoles from the both of them to sleep in to start smelling just like Stiles instead of like PeterChrisStiles, which means that the clothes he may or may not have purposely left at home would probably also just smell like PeterandChris. But again, it’s not like anyone’s keeping track or anything.
So Stiles tells his suitemates and Trey that he’s got company from home coming, and hints heavily to Trey that he may want to spend the weekend with Hilde or Hindy or whatever her name is, and between that and the shit-eating grin he sports for the rest of the week Stiles is pretty sure everyone in the state knows that he is planning on seriously getting laid this weekend. Stiles doesn’t really see this as a problem, especially because Tim-the-Bicurious-Asshat had apparently gotten dumped by some freshman guy he met at the Screw by way of finding him going down on Tim’s ex-girlfriend. Sometimes the stars and planets just align perfectly, you know?
So when Peter and Chris pull up pretty much everyone in the courtyard gets a free show because Stiles definitely does a running leap onto Peter, wraps his limbs around him and proceeds to reacquaint their tongues and tonsils asap. Normally that would have been the end of it, but it’s been a long time, and Chris can shove his general dislike for PDA (really, Stiles is pretty sure he heard the massive eyeroll Chris gave him when he jumped Peter even over their moans) because when Peter sets Stiles on the ground Stiles immediate walks over to Chris, grabs his face his both hands and kisses him as slowly and sensuously as possible. Stiles is definitely pleased by the glazed expression Chris sports when Stiles pulls away and grabs the overnight bag from Chris and slips his own hand into Chris’s instead. Peter, completely unsurprisingly, takes the bag from Stiles and slips his arm around Stiles’ waist as everyone else who had been in the courtyard tries to decide if tipping would be appropriate at this point.
Miraculously, the three of them manage to (mostly) keep hands and mouths to themselves long enough to get up the stairs to Stiles’ suite where everyone is looking at him with wide eyes, and Stiles just grins widely and introduces everyone by way of tipping his head in their general direction and saying their name because he’s not going to let go of Chris’s hand or take the other one out of Peter’s back pocket (although he’s not really sure when it got there to begin with, but whatever, he’s allowed), and then he tows them through the common room into his bedroom and is promptly made into the filling of his favourite sandwich ever.
Stiles would like to say that he savours this and commits every moment to memory because it’s been so long, but really he pretty much loses track of reality starting with Peter’s teeth on his neck and Chris’s tongue in his mouth and someone’s hands on his fly and picks it back up right about the time he smirks into Peter’s mouth because Chris just found out the easy way that Stiles definitely got himself up to four fingers shortly before they arrived. Peter slides up the bed just as Chris slides into Stiles, and this is pretty much Stiles’ favourite thing, working Peter with his mouth while Chris grips his hips and thrusts into him, panting into the space between Stiles’ shoulderblades.
Stiles moves a hand from the bed toward his cock to make it actually his favourite thing, but Peter somehow has enough brain cells left to grab it and tell him no and clearly they have been working on their telepathy or they planned this or something because Chris changes the angle so he’s hitting Stiles' prostate what feels like constantly but reaches around not to jerk Stiles off but to stop him from coming even as Chris’s hips are stuttering and he’s coming in Stiles. Stiles would like to protest, but Peter is holding Stiles down on his cock as Chris pulls out and crawls up to kiss Peter, whose hands slip out of Stiles’ hair to skim over Chris’s shoulders and back down to his ass where, holy shit there is a buttplug, which pretty much guarantees that Stiles wasn’t the only one thinking ahead because he is 9000% certain that this means Chris let Peter knot him before they showed up and that plug is still holding Peter’s come inside. Stiles lets out a feeble moan and drops his forehead to Peter’s thigh, reaching a hand down to squeeze the base of his cock because jesus fuck this should not be a huge super considerate thoughtful awesome romantic thing but it kind of really is.
There is some creative rearranging, because twin xl beds are only not really any kind of extra anything when you are trying to fit three grown men in them. They end up with Stiles braced over Chris, slotting himself between Chris’s thighs, while Chris kisses Stiles, still languid from his orgasm. Stiles pulls Chris’s hips a bit higher, slides his cock in where Chris is already slick and loose from Peter earlier, pausing when he’s all the way in because Peter is a line of heat at his back and he can’t keep his fingers away from Stiles’ ass, running them through the come and lube running down toward Stiles’ balls and smearing it back around and just inside his entrance. Stiles can’t help the way his hips jerk, and the amused look Chris is sporting means he knows exactly what Peter is doing, but that doesn’t stop him from gasping when Stiles jerks harder because Peter has just licked a line from Stiles’ balls up the same path his fingers followed and Stiles is really not going to get to fuck Chris at all if Peter keeps doing that.
Peter apparently knows this, because the next thing Stiles feels is Peter’s cock, pressing inside slow and smooth and deep until Stiles can feel the beginnings of Peter’s knot against his ass. And it’s so good, Stiles was wrong, this is his favourite thing, rocking his hips forward into Chris and backwards onto Peter, Chris’s hands in his hair, almost kissing except it’s kind of more just panting into each other’s mouths with occasional licking at this point, while Peter presses bruises into Stiles' hips and sucks and bites marks into Stiles’ shoulders. And Stiles knew he wasn’t going to last long, but his orgasm still sneaks up and hits him like a truck from nowhere and he’s pretty sure he just bit Chris’s lip because he can taste blood but Peter is pinning Stiles between himself and Chris, trying to hold Stiles’ hips steady so he can press his knot inside of Stiles and Stiles isn’t really sure if that makes him come harder or again but there are definitely fireworks and stars and possibly also constellations and galaxies happening and then everything kind of just stops.
He comes to on his side, cradled between Peter behind him and Chris in front, legs in some sort of ridiculous tangle, and they’re talking in a low murmur about being completely disgusting and ordering chinese delivery like college students. Stiles just kind of feels warm and floaty, and it apparently has only just been long enough for them to move because Peter’s still locked in Stiles, so Stiles figures it’s fine if he just checks out for a while and goes to sleep.
Unsurprisingly, there is no one in the entire suite when they emerge a few hours later to shower off. Nor does anyone come back for the rest of the weekend, at least that Stiles notices. Of course, his attention is somewhat otherwise occupied, but whatever.
Surprisingly, when Stiles gets back from his 8.30 Comp Sci lecture Monday morning the common room is full of balloons and streamers, but devoid of people, and there is a box on the coffee table with his name on it. Inside is a cake that says ‘Congrats on the Sex!.' Stiles revises his opinion on college to awesome and decides to test Trey’s adherence to the tie on doorknob rule again in the near future because he has unlimited minutes on his phone to abuse.