Three For One Deal//Stilinski Triplets - Part 8
Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Noah Stilinski, Reader.
Thomas ignored you the rest of the night, clinging to his father’s side. You stuck with Stiles, comforting him.
You sat on the big loveseat in the waiting room, Stiles’ head in your lap. You ran your fingers through his hair as he cried quietly. The waiting room was empty aside from you, Malia, and the Stilinski’s. No one wanted to go home, where Jimmy’s empty room sat, and Noah was waiting on paperwork.
“Stiles..” You whisper. You feel him shift around, he must’ve fallen asleep. “Stiles..” You say again, Stiles rolling over to look at you.
“What? What’s wrong?” He yawns.
“Let me take you home. You can come to my house. You need some sleep.” You continue playing in his hair.
“No no, I have to stay here.”
“I’m just waiting in paperwork, Stiles. You should go.” Noah nods.
“Come on, Stiles…it’s okay. You’ve got clothes at my house.” He sits up and you scoot forward, your legs are wet with Stiles’ tears.
You take the keys to the Jeep and Stiles’ hand. You interlace your fingers, Thomas jumping up and leaving the room at the sight of the two of you. You smile at Stiles, his sleepy eyes making you feel a little better. You were the only one he’s willingly given the keys to Roscoe to, he made sure you knew that the first time he gave you the keys.
You walk over to Stuart and Malia, hugging them both before walk over to Noah. “I’m so sorry. I loved having Jimmy back, I can’t believe he’s gone.”
He reaches out and pats your arm, “Thank you, Y/N. It means a lot.”
You bend over and whisper, “I may steal Stiles for a few days. Make him feel a bit better.” You nod.
“He needs that. Please do.”
You smile and squeeze Stiles’ hand. “Bye guys.” You wave before leading him out to the Jeep.
You hop up into the drivers side, remembering the lessons Thomas gave you on driving stick. You start the Jeep and Stiles curls up in the passenger side, pulling his leg to his chest.
You head towards your house, turning down a different street. “I thought we were going to your house.” Stiles looks over at you.
“We are. We’re just taking a short detour.”
He raises an eyebrow but says nothing, looking back out the window. You pull up to a McDonald’s, Stiles smiling over at you. You order and hand him his drink, paying before going to your house. You lead him up to your room and you both sit on your bed.
“What’d you order me?” Stiles looks over at you.
“Chicken nuggets.” You hand him the box and he places his hand over his heart.
“Eat and you can shower. Your clothes are in my top drawer.” You point at your dresser and he nods.
“Thank you. I hate being in the hospital. I honestly wanted to go before Melissa found out, so I’m glad you got me out.”
“Why didn’t you want to be there when Melissa found out?” You lay back on your bed, eating fries.
“Melissa knowing means that Scott knows, which means everyone knows. If I’m not at the hospital I can just turn my phone off and ignore it.”
“I get it. It’ll just be you and I, okay? If you get sick of me just tell me.” You nod.
“I could never get sick of you. You’re the only person I want to be with right now.” He smiles.
“Hey, that reminds me..do you want to tell Lydia?”
He shakes his head quickly, “No. I just want the ones who know now to know. You and Malia are the only extra ones who need to know.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.” You reach out and pat his hand. “Do you want to watch something?”
“Of course.” You reach your hand over and grab the remote.
You eat and he showers, returning with his hair flat against his head. He looks a lot like Thomas like that.
“You look like Tommy.” You chuckle.
“Don’t say that to me.” Stiles laughs.
“You’re identical, Stiles.”
“I like to think I’m a little more attractive.”
You laugh and shake your head, pulling the covers back. “Get in bed.” You slide out as he gets in. “I have to change too.” He nods and grabs his phone.
“Don’t look, Stilinski. I mean it.”
You peel your jeans off and slip some shorts on. You flip through your closet before deciding on your sophomore homecoming shirt. You didn’t actually go, but Stiles did and you stole the shirt. You pull your shirt over your head, catching a glimpse of Stiles.
“What? I can’t help it! You’re right there!” He sits up.
“A simple sorry and an eye cover would’ve sufficed! Now you’re sitting up and you’re eye-level with my tits!”
“I mean…they’re nice tits..”
“Right. Yep. Got it.” He lays back down and covers his eyes.
“Jesus, you’re crazy.” You pull the shirt on and jump in the beside him.
“I didn’t mean to.” He glances over at you, his cheeks bright red.
“It’s fine.” You chuckle. “Come here.” You hold your arms out and he lays his head on your chest.
You slide your hand under his shirt, running it up and down his back. “You doing okay?”
“Yes and no. Being with you makes it a little less hard, but I can’t believe he’s gone…forever.”
“I know. I know, Stiles. I’m holding you here until you feel better too.”
“How do you plan on doing that?” He chuckles.
“I have my ways. You just saw me shirtless, everything is fair game.” You tease.
“I didn’t mean to see you shirtless!” He groans.
“You were staring, Stiles. I’m not stupid.”
“It was innocent staring.” He glances up at you and smiles devilishly.
You continue running your hand up and down his back, your fingertips grazing his skin. “I believe you.” You laugh, shaking your head.
“We haven’t hung out like this, me and you, in awhile.”
“I know.” You nod, “Let’s make it a habit.”
“For now, you’re my hostage until you’re feeling better. So you better get to writing a list of things that’ll make you feel better.”