“Stop freaking out,” Malia whispers, rubbing herself against him. It’s not really in an intentionally hot way, more like the way that dogs and cats rub themselves against you because they want pets, but she’s naked, and Stiles is a perfectly functional teenage boy sandwiched between two very hot people. Who are in his bed. “I’m not freaking out,” he whispers back furiously, voice too high to be steady. “Are you freaking out? And oh yeah, important question. Why is Derek Hale in my bed?”

He noticed the way Clary’s hand would rub soothing lines up and down Simon’s back as they sat in meetings. He would watch, face hot with something like jealousy when Clary would kiss Simon’s cheek whenever she left the room. Jace saw it all. And to be honest, it was probably inevitable that he would start to watch Simon, too.