New fic: "Just a little bit of love", Teen Wolf, NC-17, 2/2
On to Part 2
For long moments none of them spoke. Melissa had her head bowed, her blush deepened while the Sheriff still tried to come to terms with what he'd just heard. Basically, it was his dream presented to him on a silver platter. And things like that simply didn't happen to Sheriff John Stilinski. He knew that. Things like that happened to other people, to …
“Okay by me,” Chris Argent said quietly, his voice a soft grumbling, interrupting John's chaotic thoughts very effectively. Surprised, he looked up at the hunter, and saw that his eyes went from him to Melissa and back. He cleared his throat, reached again for Melissa's hand, and said, “Okay by me, too.”
~*~
Chris stared at Melissa once his brain managed to UN-tumble the sentence. Then he smiled. Never before had he met a woman like her. Melissa McCall had been faced with so many weird things, and instead of cowering down and crying, she shoved her sleeves back, and faced things head on!
She had to learn that her son was a werewolf, that her son's first girlfriend was the daughter of a hunter, that his current girlfriend was a kitsune, and that her ex-husband was an ass - though that was surely something she'd known before.
Then his gaze went to the Sheriff. A remarkable man as he had come to learn those past few weeks. It couldn't have been easy for him to ask a hunter and a werewolf for help to rescue his son but he'd done it. It showed the amount of love he felt for his son. And suddenly Chris Argent was curious if he would show this kind of love to everyone who managed to get a place in his heart.
So really … if he was honest there could be only one answer to Melissa's confession. He took a deep breath, and murmured,
“Okay by me.”
~*~
Melissa didn't trust her ears when she heard a quietly grumbled “Okay by me,” from both men. Carefully, she glanced up.
“Seriously?” she asked, disbelieve coloring her voice.
Instead of an answer, Chris Argent leaned close and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Then he smiled against her mouth, and murmured, “Seriously.”
She turned to the Sheriff, and he kissed her also. Soft, quick. Gentle. Closing her eyes, she licked her lips, and let her head drop back again. With a quiet laughter, she murmured, “You are amazing, guys.”
Hands on her thighs made her open her eyes again. Her men - god, she loved the sound of that - had moved closer, their arms touched behind her, and for a crazy second she wanted to see them kiss each other. But maybe that would be too soon. Maybe it would never happen. But right now she had this. Had this two incredible men willing to be with her.
“What do you want, Melissa?” John murmured, and she gasped. “God,” she whispered, “I never thought I really could have this.”
“You can,” Chris mumbled from her other side. “Just say what you want. We do everything for you, right, John?”
“M-hm,” came the replay, and Melissa resolutely stood up, gazing at the men on her couch. “Then let's move this,” she said with a wide smile, “for what I have in mind, a bed would be a much better place.”
She turned around, and felt the two men following her. It was like one of her dreams come true, when she opened the door to her bedroom, and could sense the strong presence of not only one but two bodies behind her. She switched on her bedside lamp. This would have to do for their first time. The next time she could go for something more romantic. Turning around, she saw them standing a little closer than two men normally would, and again her brain came up with pictures of those two kissing. A shiver ran down her spine. Slowly, she stepped up to them, resting her hands on each chest, feeling their hearts beat quickly. “Glad to notice, I'm not the only one affected,” she smiled.
“Oh no, you're not,” John rasped, then he moved in to kiss her. Properly, this time. She closed her eyes, and got lost in the kiss. Damn, that men knew how to use his tongue. She could feel her knees go week, when there suddenly was another arm encircling her from behind, keeping her upright. A hand shoved her hair from her neck, and another set of lips gently caressed her skin there. She moaned into John's mouth at the double sensation.
Clever fingers opened the zipper on her dress, and while she was still distracted by John's talented mouth, her dress slid sensuously down her shoulders, and pooled around her feet. A groan came from behind her, followed by a softly murmured, “God, you're beautiful.”
She pushed John's jacket down, and moved in on his buttons, opening one after the other until she finally - finally - felt skin under her hands. With a gasp, John ended the kiss. A hand under her chin, turned her head around and immediately her lips were captured by another mouth, kissing her just as thoroughly. She turned in Chris Argent's arms, and wound her own around his neck. In that moment her bra fell down to her feet. And she laughed slightly into the kiss. Chris moved back a fraction, gazing in her eyes, a question clear in his eyes. “Eager, are we?” she whispered, and then dove in for another kiss.
“You have no idea,” came the answer from behind her. John's mouth traveled a path over her shoulders, gently biting the curve where neck met shoulder, making her shiver.
Her finger sought out the buttons on Chris' shirt, and found them with unerringly certainty. Opening one after the other, she suddenly realized that her hands were trembling. She broke the kiss again, and looked down at herself. She was naked to the waist, her dress a forgotten heap at her feet, her breasts cupped gently from behind by two strong hands, another set of hands on her waist, caressing her skin there. A half-naked man in her back, a second one in front of her with his shirt open while his tie was still around his neck.
“Talk to us, Melissa,” John murmured suddenly into her ear. “Tell us what you think. What you want.”
“What you need, Melissa,” Chris breathed against her other ear, and oh that was flat out unfair. How should she be able to think let alone form a coherent sentence when she was in such a sensory overload? Blindly, she touched back, and her hand found skin, and suddenly it was easy. Oh so easy.
“Skin,” she gasped, “I want to feel your skin, want to see you,” she pressed herself shamelessly back against John, while pulling Chris closer to her front, “I want to taste you.”
Two deep groans told her that her men were clearly on board with that wish. They managed to move to the bed where they laid her down like she was something precious, before nearly ripping their own clothes off.
“Whoa, whoa,” she laughed, propping up on one elbow, “slowly. I wanna enjoy the show.”
When her men looked at her, she could see the heat in their eyes, and she felt sexy, and wanted, and desired. Feelings she hadn't had for a long time. And now she wanted to see them undress slowly, preferably each other but she would take what she got.
For a moment they gazed uncertainly at each other, then - very slowly - John reached out for Chris, and Melissa held her breath.
~*~
“I wanna enjoy the show.” Melissa laughed, lounging on her bed, half-naked, looking like a nymph, and John stopped for a moment, his hands on his belt buckle.
He cast a quick glance over at Chris, and saw him looking back at him. And that was when he saw the desire in his eyes. Not only for the beautiful woman on the bed but also - a little bit at least - for him, the worn-out Sheriff with a few pounds too much on his ribs.
He reached out, and was relieved to see that the hunter turned to him, his own hands at the hem of his shirt where he'd been busy pulling it out of his trousers moments earlier.
“Let me,” he murmured, and began to untangle the knot of the tie, slowly pulling it off. He looked directly into those fascinating blue-gray eyes, as he slowly finished opening the shirt, and shoved it down over strong shoulders until it fell to the floor with a soft whisper of fabric, joining Melissa's dress.
Without a single word, Chris raised his hands, and did the same to him, following with his hands the way of his shirt, stroking over his bare shoulders over his arms down to his hands.
The Sheriff looked down at where their hands were almost intertwined. Elegant, agile fingers that could pull a trigger with deadly precision, and that could treat wounds with incredible tenderness. He compared them to his own, bigger hands. Calloused from years of hard work.
“You can touch, you know?” Chris whispered suddenly, and John looked up.
“What?”
Chris took his hand and placed it carefully over his heart. “I said, you can touch. That is … if you want to.”
Did he want to? His fingers touched smooth skin covered with a light dust of chest hair not unlike his own. He looked down at himself, and involuntarily compared himself to the man standing in front of him. Chris Argent looked as cool and composed as ever, and only the erratic beating of his heart showed John that he was just putting on a mask. The body of the other man was sculpted. Hard muscles under soft skin, not an ounce of fat. Lean and sinewy.
He himself wasn't in that bad a shape either. Being a cop did have its advantages. He never needed to go to an extra gym. All the running around and fighting kept him fit. But he was beginning to show a little rounding where once a six-pack had been. Where Chris *still* had a six-pack
“I,” he started but grew silent again. Unconsciously, his fingertips began to glide over a shoulder, over a scar, down the arm, and back up again. He took a deep breath, and began again. “I don't know what to do,” he admitted a little helpless.
Chris took a step closer. So close that the Sheriff felt his breath on his naked shoulder. “How about,” he murmured, “we go over to that bed where a beautiful woman is watching us. And wanting us.” He backed away a little, and took hold of John's hand. “And we figure the rest out as we go.”
~*~
Melissa had sensed that those few moments the men had spent communicating with each other had been important. So important to everything that would be happening in her bedroom in the next hours.
Now they turned to her, and she could feel a shiver run over her body. Oh, this was going to be so good. They were still wearing their pants but their chests were gloriously naked, and Melissa's fingers *itched* to finally touch.
They came to her, Chris Argent crawling across the covers like the predator he was to rest on her left, John carefully laying down on her right, sweet and considerate as always.
Together they moved in on her, one kissing her mouth, the other one her shoulder, gently touching her, moving her on the bed so was laid out to their liking. Then she closed her eyes, and simply enjoyed. Simply felt. Emotions that had been hidden far too long came to the surface again.
It was incredible.
She realized that her dreams now paled in comparison because nothing could have prepared her for this. For those two men treated her like she was something precious. Blindly, she reached up, burying her hand in soft hair, pulling the head down to kiss.
John, she realized, as the mouth descended gently on hers, tongue slipping inside when she moaned. They deepened the kiss, and then she gasped when she felt a pair of lips on the inside of her left leg.
It was such a contrast to the loving kiss she was receiving that she groaned. It was not soft, not gentle It was hungry, bites on the verge of pain but not quite there yet. She writhed restlessly not sure if she wanted to move closer to that sensation or if she wanted to move away. A strong arm over her middle pinned her down, and her eyes flew open when John broke the kiss. Almost panting, she stared up at him.
“Look,” he whispered, motioning with his head down. She followed this movement with her eyes, and gasped again.
Chris was resting between her legs, staring intently up at her, catching and holding her gaze. Then - very deliberately - he grabbed her legs and rested them over his shoulders so her heels were digging into his back. He moved two fingers to his mouth, wet them, and - never leaving her gaze - slowly pushed them inside her. It was almost enough to push her over the edge. She cried out softly, clenched her inner muscles so she kept Chris' fingers inside her. It felt so good, and too soon she could feel them moving out of her body again. Before she could complain they pushed back in again, establishing a rhythm.
In, out, and quickly back in again. Two fingers became three, and the moment John leaned forward and gently circled her nipple with his tongue she came with a shout.
“So responsive,” she heard a voice murmur, and unable to respond with her heart still beating wildly, she simply smiled. Yeah, okay, it had been a while, and she had a lot of catching up to do. With shaking hands she reached for the nearest belt buckle she could find.
“Off,” she mumbled, “off. You're still overdressed, both of you. Off with these, want to see, want to touch more of you.”
This time she didn't stop them when they jumped up, and simply ripped their clothes off. Both men hesitated for a second when they were down to their underwear, and - after exchanging a look - they dropped them simultaneously.
Melissa sat up, and simply looked at them.
They were magnificent. Both build but not overly so, and so wonderfully, beautifully erect and hard. For her. Only for her. She watched as they came closer to her, coming to bed again. “So gorgeous,” she whispered when they were close enough that she could touch them. She closed her right hand around John, her left around Chris. Both men moaned softly.
It was fascinating. They were so different, and yet so much alike. Carefully, she began to stroke them both, enjoying their reactions. While Chris was pretty quiet, only breathing harder, the Sheriff had no problems to declare what he liked. He moaned, gasped, whispered her name, murmured, “Yes, god, just like that, Melissa, harder, please.”
Without realizing it, she began to concentrate more on the Sheriff. She wanted to make him come. Wanted to see him come undone just like they had done to her. She wanted him inside of her. Wanted to see that face above her when he came.
She stopped her stroking, and let go of the Sheriff. Ignoring the questioning looks she got, she stretched, and reached for her nightstand.
The hunter took this opportunity to let his hands glide over her back down to her ass, caressing it lovingly.
She took the opportunity, to give John's hard cock a quick kiss and a lick as she moved back, an unopened box of condoms in her hand, laughing a little when he nearly tumbled over her in his surprise. This time there was a noise from Chris. A stutter in his breathing when he saw the condoms, and Melissa noticed that he gripped the base of his cock real tight. To prevent his orgasm she guessed, and she felt incredibly flattered.
Ripping the box open, she took one of the condoms out, and held it up. “Who wants to go first?” she asked, hoping none of them would notice the tremor in her voice. There were so many things she wanted to do with those two men but right now she just wanted to be taken. Hard, gentle, she didn't care. In her own head she dared to be a little obscene. She wanted to get fucked. Period.
Chris took a deep breath, then he pointed at John. “I,” he started before he had to clear his throat, “I'm not sure I can last long enough this time around. Maybe John should start.”
The Sheriff looked into the hunter's eyes, then down to his cock, and grinned. It wasn't a mean or a malicious grin. It was full of humor, and he murmured, “Guess me jerking off like a teenager those last few days comes in handy now.”
She laughed out loud. “You did?”
Now he blushed a little as if he just now realized what he'd said. Then he nodded.
“I've been thinking so much about tonight, hoping, and wishing, and … well, my body reacted. I'm so glad Stiles hasn't any enhanced senses … otherwise I might have driven him up the wall.”
“Or out of the house,” Melissa added, and giggled like a little girl, remembering the night Scott had run off. She had to tell them about that night. Maybe later. Maybe tomorrow. Her gaze fell onto the condom in her hand. Definitely tomorrow.
“So,” she said, holding the little square foil up again, “you ready?”
John turned serious again. He reached for her, gently touching her face. “Hell yeah,” he murmured against her mouth. He took the condom from her, and turned around with a surprised noise when it was ripped out of his fingers moments later. He looked at Argent who quickly opened the foil, and for a few heartbeats John was irritated. Did Chris want to go first after all? Did he … oh. He groaned deeply, when very clever and very male fingers rolled the condom over his hard length, giving it a few firm strokes on the way.
“You keep doing that, and Melissa will have to wait a few hours before she will get anything,” he pressed through clenched teeth, gripping the hunter's wrist tightly. A smirk was the answer.
Melissa moaned at the erotic display in front of her, and without thinking she spread her legs a little. She wanted that thick, hard cock inside of her right now. Wanted to feel it pressing in, in, in until she felt full. Two sets of eyes turned to her, and she blushed.
“Did I … did I say that out loud?” she asked with a shy smile. Both men nodded, and finally John moved closer, lined his cock up, and slowly, so, so slowly, pressed it inside of her.
She let out a very content sigh when he at last bottomed out, and he leaned down to kiss her.
~*~
She felt amazing. Warm, slick heat surrounded John's cock, soft skin under his hands, a welcoming mouth on his, and the strong presence of the hunter behind him, a firm hand on his back, slowly sliding up and down. He remained motionless, afraid he might loose it the moment he started moving.
She took this decision right out of his hands when in an impatient gesture she pressed her hips up against his, and he growled. His self-restraint seemed to snap at that, and he grabbed her hips, and began to push into her. In, out, in, a little rolling motion with his hips, and she moaned again. Yes, this was what he had dreamed about. Her nails began to dig in his arms but it didn't register with him at the moment. He closed his eyes, and began to fuck her in earnest. Her little cries only spurred him on. Deeper, harder, faster, until she suddenly was quiet. He stopped abruptly, afraid he'd been too rough, and opened his eyes again, looking down at her.
“Fuck,” he gasped out impulsively at the sight that greeted him. And he now understood why she had suddenly fallen silent. It was hard to talk with your mouth full after all. Chris was kneeling beside him, his right hand rested on his, John's, shoulder, his left hand was caressing Melissa's face, while she was busy sucking him. From the noises Chris was making she had to be a natural. John smiled, and began to move again.
~*~
Chris had his eyes fixed on Melissa, staring down intently at her, taking in every little detail, every expression on her face, every gasp she made, every moan she couldn't suppress. His cock slid slowly in an out of her mouth, occasionally she bit him gently, sending shivers down his spine. He could feel his release approaching. Fast!
But he didn't want to come alone, so he reached down to where she was joined with the Sheriff, and touched her. She bucked wildly, nearly dislodging John who barked out a throaty laugh, gripped her tighter, and thrust inside her again.
She was so wet, and Chris gritted his teeth while stroking her closer and closer to her climax, praying that he wouldn't embarrass himself by coming too early. But after Melissa managed to take him in almost to the root he knew that he was fighting a loosing battle. He slowly pulled back, murmuring, “Ssh, wait, Melissa, honey, wait, please, I'm ...”
Before he was able to finish the sentence, she reached for him, stroking him hard and fast, pointing his erection at her breasts, and almost helplessly he came. Gasping he watched as his cum painted her tanned skin, and the moment the warm liquid touched her, she came, too. It was like a chain reaction causing John to come only moments later, shuddering through his release.
Chris could see that it was hard for the other man not to simply collapse on top of their woman, and he put his arms around him, steadying him. With a grateful smile, John rested against him.
~*~
She felt like floating. Warmth surrounded her, caring hands gently cleaned her up, pulled the covers up over her naked body who still trembled slightly in aftershocks, and then they were cuddling up close to her, one on her right, the other on her left, embracing her, making her feel loved and protected.
“That's because you are,” the Sheriff grumbled on her right, and she laughed slightly.
“I said that out loud again, right?” she whispered.
“Yeah, you did,” the hunter murmured on her other side.
With a happy sigh, she cuddled deeper into the covers.
~*~
They made love two more times that night. Melissa was convinced that the house, or better, the whole area had to be reeking of their activities.
And sometime between them kissing her, one of them pushing deep inside of her while the other man kissed and fondled her with so much tenderness and love that it took her breath away, and them all falling asleep again, she almost pitied her son who had to come home to that.
She smiled.
Almost.
~*~
When Scott and Stiles arrived at Scott's house the next morning, they were surprised to see the Sheriff's car in the driveway. But not only his car but also …
“That's the car from Allison's dad,” Scott murmured.
“You sure?” Stiles asked back, looking a little confused.
For a moment he wondered what he was doing here. They had played video-games until 2:30 in the morning, had gone through two bags of crisps, one bag of salt pretzels and three litres of coke until they finally had traipsed up the stairs to Stiles' bedroom and fallen into bed. That was: Stiles into bed, Scott on the air mattress. About ten minutes later the window had been opened carefully, and Scott had seen the familiar shape of Derek climbing in. The older werewolf had undressed himself quietly and slipped into bed next to Stiles who hadn't even woken up properly. He had just grunted, pushed himself closer to Derek, and that had been that. It had been Scott's mobile ringing that had woken them up at seven thirty in the morning. Derek had been gone by then, and Stiles had thrown a pillow at Scott's head yelling at him for not 'turning the damn thing off the night before'.
Already awake, they had taken turns in the shower, and decided to go over to Scott's place in the hope for breakfast.
So here they were. At 08:30 on a Sunday morning, staring at two cars in front of Scott's home.
Finally, Stiles switched off the engine, and announced, “I'm hungry. You comin' or what?”
~*~
Scott didn't know what to expect. He knew that Stiles' and Allison's dad were probably inside his home with his mom, and he had no idea why. Did they have dinner together, it got late and the men crashed on the couch? Why were they here in the first place?
Slowly, carefully, he approached his front door, ignoring the giggling from Stiles behind him. A light push against his back made him stumble, and he turned around to glare at his best friend.
“Oh come on, alpha,” he laughed, “afraid your mom might have a guy over, and might have had some fun tonight?”
And there it was again … the thought of his mom having sex. He pushed the key into the door, opened the door a fraction, and carefully sniffed.
With a surprised noise he opened the door fully. There was the clattering sound of dishes coming from the kitchen, two pair of man’s shoes were standing neatly side by side, and he could smell coffee, waffles, eggs, bacon, and overlaying it all was a completely new scent. The scent of warmth, of home, of love.
He followed the soft music and the humming to the kitchen, and just then his mom walked out. For a moment he was speechless.
His mother was preparing breakfast, wearing nothing than a white button-down shirt that was slightly familiar (and even before Stiles' muttered “That's my dad's shirt!”, thank you very much) and dark boxer-shorts that Scott's never seen before. Her dark hair was tied up in a loose ponytail.
“Mom?” he asked softly. She whirled around, and when she saw him, she beamed brightly, dancing over to hug him.
“Hey, baby,” she sing-songed softly, and he winced. He was almost seventeen … so … baby? Really?
“Mom, are you okay?”
Slowly, Scott stepped into the dining room, and glanced at the table.
Laid for three.
Again!
“Did you know we'd be back for breakfast?” he asked carefully, a little afraid of the answer.
Before his mom could answer though, there was another voice coming from the kitchen, “No, not exactly.” Scott swallowed when he noticed Chris Argent exiting the kitchen, walking up to his mom, embracing her from behind, and giving her a tender kiss on her cheek. “But I think we can put on two more plates, can't we, honey?!”
Scott's mind came to a stuttering halt, staring at those strong arms resting around his mom's waist as if they belonged there. And there was also the fact that Allison's dad only wore dark trousers, and nothing else.
(really nothing, a voice in his brain added with a little smirk, sounding a lot like Derek)
“Two?” Stiles asked behind him, and for a moment Scott felt unable to relate to that question.
“Think I'll leave the house without breakfast, son?” a deep voice behind them grumbled gently.
Scott shrieked, there was no other way to put it. Stiles' dad had come down the stairs, silently, surprising the hell out of the two friends. A hard knuckled fist met his back. “Couldn't you have warned me?” Stiles hissed, and Scott shook his head.
No. No, he couldn't because he was still trying to process the fact that Chris Argent was holding his mom like a lover.
And that Sheriff John Stilinski passed the couple with a “Two more plates?” and a quick peck to her cheek. And to Argent's cheek!
Stiles' laughter brought him back to the here and now. The laughter and the fact that all three adults were staring at him. His mom with something close to worry in her eyes.
But it was more than he could stand!
"Am I the only one who finds this weird?" he yelled suddenly, feeling insecure and foolish at the same time.
Chris Argent removed his hands as if he'd suddenly burned them, and even the Sheriff took a hesitant step back. Leaving his mom standing alone between them.
And Scott McCall felt like the worst son ever!!
The beautiful glow that had surrounded his mother ever since last evening seemed to disappear. Poof, and it was gone. All that left was his mom, standing there in a too-big shirt that belonged to another man, her shoulders slumping slightly, the smile vanished from her face. Wiped from there by him, her own son. Her son who should be happy for her and not dare to judge her.
The fist bump he got now from Stiles was a lot harder than before, and he stumbled slightly.
But before he was able to say something - to apologize profusely to his mom for being a jerk and an utter idiot - Argent and the Sheriff simultaneously stepped closer to her again, lending her the strength she seemed to need because her son was an idiot.
“Mom, I...” he began but was interrupted by the Sheriff.
“Scott, no!”
The older Stilinski took a deep breath, and moved even closer to Melissa, touching her shoulder. “I will not apologize for what happened between your mother, Chris Argent and me last night.” He cast both of them a soft look.
“And whether you like it or not, Scott,” - Scott, not son the way he usually called him. Scott felt like a bug right now. A really ugly bug. - “we all will repeat it. Again, and again. Because somehow we all fell in love with each other.”
~*~
Stiles was torn between the extreme happiness he felt for his dad, and the fury he felt for his best friend. How could he not see that this was beyond perfect?!
He had known that his dad had felt lonely ever since his mom had died. But he had never tried to replace her. Ever since that fateful day all those years ago he had put his whole energy in his job and his son, had made those two things his whole world. And now that he, Stiles, had Derek, his dad had finally dared to look for some love and happiness for himself. And he'd had the incredible luck to find not one but two people.
And Allison's dad … well, okay, that came a bit as a surprise for him. But after he had found them in his dad's bed together that one night, something had changed. He had sensed it then, and could see it now. It was comfort, familiarity, and - in a way - love.
And to him it was amazing!
“God, Scott,” he growled, “get your head out of your ass.”
Scott turned around to face him, a look of surprised hurt on his face. Stiles started to flail his arms, trying to encompass everything: the scenery around them, the atmosphere, their parents.
“You screw every pretty girl that lets you get to second base, and you frown upon your own mom? Seriously?”
Scott blushed furiously, and behind him Stiles could hear his dad snicker slightly. Or was it Allison's dad?
Did it matter?
He turned around, walked to his dad, and hugged him tightly. “I'm glad for you, dad,” he mumbled into his shoulder. His dad hugged him back just as tightly.
“That's not what I meant,” Scott murmured, sounding hurt, and sad, and immediately Stiles felt as if he'd kicked a puppy. Or hit a puppy with a kitten.
He didn't completely let go of his dad, just turned his head. “What was it you meant, then?”
“This … it just came as a surprise.” Scott took a hesitant step closer to his mother. “Why didn't you tell me?”
She smiled and relieved Stiles noticed that the tenseness had vanished from her. “I wasn't sure how last night would work out, baby,” she said softly. Stiles grinned into his dad's shoulder. Baby! Ha! Take that, Scott 'Baby' McCall.
“And now?”
A slight move back, maybe even unnoticed by her, brought her closer to his and Allison's dad. “I want to keep them,” she simply said.
And really … it *was* that simple.
Scott took a deep breath, looked up through his lashes, and finally smiled. “I'm happy for you, mom.”
~*~
Chris didn't realize he had held his breath, until he slowly released it, hopefully unnoticed by the rest of the people in the room. A knowing look from John told him that that hope was in vain. He smiled, then laughed. God, this was his life from now on. He wasn't alone any more. Had somehow found love again in such a strange place with two amazing people.
He turned to Melissa, gave her a peck on the cheek - absolutely ignoring Scott's little wince - and looked at John and Stiles.
“So, breakfast?” he asked.
The end
For long moments none of them spoke. Melissa had her head bowed, her blush deepened while the Sheriff still tried to come to terms with what he'd just heard. Basically, it was his dream presented to him on a silver platter. And things like that simply didn't happen to Sheriff John Stilinski. He knew that. Things like that happened to other people, to …
“Okay by me,” Chris Argent said quietly, his voice a soft grumbling, interrupting John's chaotic thoughts very effectively. Surprised, he looked up at the hunter, and saw that his eyes went from him to Melissa and back. He cleared his throat, reached again for Melissa's hand, and said, “Okay by me, too.”
~*~
Chris stared at Melissa once his brain managed to UN-tumble the sentence. Then he smiled. Never before had he met a woman like her. Melissa McCall had been faced with so many weird things, and instead of cowering down and crying, she shoved her sleeves back, and faced things head on!
She had to learn that her son was a werewolf, that her son's first girlfriend was the daughter of a hunter, that his current girlfriend was a kitsune, and that her ex-husband was an ass - though that was surely something she'd known before.
Then his gaze went to the Sheriff. A remarkable man as he had come to learn those past few weeks. It couldn't have been easy for him to ask a hunter and a werewolf for help to rescue his son but he'd done it. It showed the amount of love he felt for his son. And suddenly Chris Argent was curious if he would show this kind of love to everyone who managed to get a place in his heart.
So really … if he was honest there could be only one answer to Melissa's confession. He took a deep breath, and murmured,
“Okay by me.”
~*~
Melissa didn't trust her ears when she heard a quietly grumbled “Okay by me,” from both men. Carefully, she glanced up.
“Seriously?” she asked, disbelieve coloring her voice.
Instead of an answer, Chris Argent leaned close and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Then he smiled against her mouth, and murmured, “Seriously.”
She turned to the Sheriff, and he kissed her also. Soft, quick. Gentle. Closing her eyes, she licked her lips, and let her head drop back again. With a quiet laughter, she murmured, “You are amazing, guys.”
Hands on her thighs made her open her eyes again. Her men - god, she loved the sound of that - had moved closer, their arms touched behind her, and for a crazy second she wanted to see them kiss each other. But maybe that would be too soon. Maybe it would never happen. But right now she had this. Had this two incredible men willing to be with her.
“What do you want, Melissa?” John murmured, and she gasped. “God,” she whispered, “I never thought I really could have this.”
“You can,” Chris mumbled from her other side. “Just say what you want. We do everything for you, right, John?”
“M-hm,” came the replay, and Melissa resolutely stood up, gazing at the men on her couch. “Then let's move this,” she said with a wide smile, “for what I have in mind, a bed would be a much better place.”
She turned around, and felt the two men following her. It was like one of her dreams come true, when she opened the door to her bedroom, and could sense the strong presence of not only one but two bodies behind her. She switched on her bedside lamp. This would have to do for their first time. The next time she could go for something more romantic. Turning around, she saw them standing a little closer than two men normally would, and again her brain came up with pictures of those two kissing. A shiver ran down her spine. Slowly, she stepped up to them, resting her hands on each chest, feeling their hearts beat quickly. “Glad to notice, I'm not the only one affected,” she smiled.
“Oh no, you're not,” John rasped, then he moved in to kiss her. Properly, this time. She closed her eyes, and got lost in the kiss. Damn, that men knew how to use his tongue. She could feel her knees go week, when there suddenly was another arm encircling her from behind, keeping her upright. A hand shoved her hair from her neck, and another set of lips gently caressed her skin there. She moaned into John's mouth at the double sensation.
Clever fingers opened the zipper on her dress, and while she was still distracted by John's talented mouth, her dress slid sensuously down her shoulders, and pooled around her feet. A groan came from behind her, followed by a softly murmured, “God, you're beautiful.”
She pushed John's jacket down, and moved in on his buttons, opening one after the other until she finally - finally - felt skin under her hands. With a gasp, John ended the kiss. A hand under her chin, turned her head around and immediately her lips were captured by another mouth, kissing her just as thoroughly. She turned in Chris Argent's arms, and wound her own around his neck. In that moment her bra fell down to her feet. And she laughed slightly into the kiss. Chris moved back a fraction, gazing in her eyes, a question clear in his eyes. “Eager, are we?” she whispered, and then dove in for another kiss.
“You have no idea,” came the answer from behind her. John's mouth traveled a path over her shoulders, gently biting the curve where neck met shoulder, making her shiver.
Her finger sought out the buttons on Chris' shirt, and found them with unerringly certainty. Opening one after the other, she suddenly realized that her hands were trembling. She broke the kiss again, and looked down at herself. She was naked to the waist, her dress a forgotten heap at her feet, her breasts cupped gently from behind by two strong hands, another set of hands on her waist, caressing her skin there. A half-naked man in her back, a second one in front of her with his shirt open while his tie was still around his neck.
“Talk to us, Melissa,” John murmured suddenly into her ear. “Tell us what you think. What you want.”
“What you need, Melissa,” Chris breathed against her other ear, and oh that was flat out unfair. How should she be able to think let alone form a coherent sentence when she was in such a sensory overload? Blindly, she touched back, and her hand found skin, and suddenly it was easy. Oh so easy.
“Skin,” she gasped, “I want to feel your skin, want to see you,” she pressed herself shamelessly back against John, while pulling Chris closer to her front, “I want to taste you.”
Two deep groans told her that her men were clearly on board with that wish. They managed to move to the bed where they laid her down like she was something precious, before nearly ripping their own clothes off.
“Whoa, whoa,” she laughed, propping up on one elbow, “slowly. I wanna enjoy the show.”
When her men looked at her, she could see the heat in their eyes, and she felt sexy, and wanted, and desired. Feelings she hadn't had for a long time. And now she wanted to see them undress slowly, preferably each other but she would take what she got.
For a moment they gazed uncertainly at each other, then - very slowly - John reached out for Chris, and Melissa held her breath.
~*~
“I wanna enjoy the show.” Melissa laughed, lounging on her bed, half-naked, looking like a nymph, and John stopped for a moment, his hands on his belt buckle.
He cast a quick glance over at Chris, and saw him looking back at him. And that was when he saw the desire in his eyes. Not only for the beautiful woman on the bed but also - a little bit at least - for him, the worn-out Sheriff with a few pounds too much on his ribs.
He reached out, and was relieved to see that the hunter turned to him, his own hands at the hem of his shirt where he'd been busy pulling it out of his trousers moments earlier.
“Let me,” he murmured, and began to untangle the knot of the tie, slowly pulling it off. He looked directly into those fascinating blue-gray eyes, as he slowly finished opening the shirt, and shoved it down over strong shoulders until it fell to the floor with a soft whisper of fabric, joining Melissa's dress.
Without a single word, Chris raised his hands, and did the same to him, following with his hands the way of his shirt, stroking over his bare shoulders over his arms down to his hands.
The Sheriff looked down at where their hands were almost intertwined. Elegant, agile fingers that could pull a trigger with deadly precision, and that could treat wounds with incredible tenderness. He compared them to his own, bigger hands. Calloused from years of hard work.
“You can touch, you know?” Chris whispered suddenly, and John looked up.
“What?”
Chris took his hand and placed it carefully over his heart. “I said, you can touch. That is … if you want to.”
Did he want to? His fingers touched smooth skin covered with a light dust of chest hair not unlike his own. He looked down at himself, and involuntarily compared himself to the man standing in front of him. Chris Argent looked as cool and composed as ever, and only the erratic beating of his heart showed John that he was just putting on a mask. The body of the other man was sculpted. Hard muscles under soft skin, not an ounce of fat. Lean and sinewy.
He himself wasn't in that bad a shape either. Being a cop did have its advantages. He never needed to go to an extra gym. All the running around and fighting kept him fit. But he was beginning to show a little rounding where once a six-pack had been. Where Chris *still* had a six-pack
“I,” he started but grew silent again. Unconsciously, his fingertips began to glide over a shoulder, over a scar, down the arm, and back up again. He took a deep breath, and began again. “I don't know what to do,” he admitted a little helpless.
Chris took a step closer. So close that the Sheriff felt his breath on his naked shoulder. “How about,” he murmured, “we go over to that bed where a beautiful woman is watching us. And wanting us.” He backed away a little, and took hold of John's hand. “And we figure the rest out as we go.”
~*~
Melissa had sensed that those few moments the men had spent communicating with each other had been important. So important to everything that would be happening in her bedroom in the next hours.
Now they turned to her, and she could feel a shiver run over her body. Oh, this was going to be so good. They were still wearing their pants but their chests were gloriously naked, and Melissa's fingers *itched* to finally touch.
They came to her, Chris Argent crawling across the covers like the predator he was to rest on her left, John carefully laying down on her right, sweet and considerate as always.
Together they moved in on her, one kissing her mouth, the other one her shoulder, gently touching her, moving her on the bed so was laid out to their liking. Then she closed her eyes, and simply enjoyed. Simply felt. Emotions that had been hidden far too long came to the surface again.
It was incredible.
She realized that her dreams now paled in comparison because nothing could have prepared her for this. For those two men treated her like she was something precious. Blindly, she reached up, burying her hand in soft hair, pulling the head down to kiss.
John, she realized, as the mouth descended gently on hers, tongue slipping inside when she moaned. They deepened the kiss, and then she gasped when she felt a pair of lips on the inside of her left leg.
It was such a contrast to the loving kiss she was receiving that she groaned. It was not soft, not gentle It was hungry, bites on the verge of pain but not quite there yet. She writhed restlessly not sure if she wanted to move closer to that sensation or if she wanted to move away. A strong arm over her middle pinned her down, and her eyes flew open when John broke the kiss. Almost panting, she stared up at him.
“Look,” he whispered, motioning with his head down. She followed this movement with her eyes, and gasped again.
Chris was resting between her legs, staring intently up at her, catching and holding her gaze. Then - very deliberately - he grabbed her legs and rested them over his shoulders so her heels were digging into his back. He moved two fingers to his mouth, wet them, and - never leaving her gaze - slowly pushed them inside her. It was almost enough to push her over the edge. She cried out softly, clenched her inner muscles so she kept Chris' fingers inside her. It felt so good, and too soon she could feel them moving out of her body again. Before she could complain they pushed back in again, establishing a rhythm.
In, out, and quickly back in again. Two fingers became three, and the moment John leaned forward and gently circled her nipple with his tongue she came with a shout.
“So responsive,” she heard a voice murmur, and unable to respond with her heart still beating wildly, she simply smiled. Yeah, okay, it had been a while, and she had a lot of catching up to do. With shaking hands she reached for the nearest belt buckle she could find.
“Off,” she mumbled, “off. You're still overdressed, both of you. Off with these, want to see, want to touch more of you.”
This time she didn't stop them when they jumped up, and simply ripped their clothes off. Both men hesitated for a second when they were down to their underwear, and - after exchanging a look - they dropped them simultaneously.
Melissa sat up, and simply looked at them.
They were magnificent. Both build but not overly so, and so wonderfully, beautifully erect and hard. For her. Only for her. She watched as they came closer to her, coming to bed again. “So gorgeous,” she whispered when they were close enough that she could touch them. She closed her right hand around John, her left around Chris. Both men moaned softly.
It was fascinating. They were so different, and yet so much alike. Carefully, she began to stroke them both, enjoying their reactions. While Chris was pretty quiet, only breathing harder, the Sheriff had no problems to declare what he liked. He moaned, gasped, whispered her name, murmured, “Yes, god, just like that, Melissa, harder, please.”
Without realizing it, she began to concentrate more on the Sheriff. She wanted to make him come. Wanted to see him come undone just like they had done to her. She wanted him inside of her. Wanted to see that face above her when he came.
She stopped her stroking, and let go of the Sheriff. Ignoring the questioning looks she got, she stretched, and reached for her nightstand.
The hunter took this opportunity to let his hands glide over her back down to her ass, caressing it lovingly.
She took the opportunity, to give John's hard cock a quick kiss and a lick as she moved back, an unopened box of condoms in her hand, laughing a little when he nearly tumbled over her in his surprise. This time there was a noise from Chris. A stutter in his breathing when he saw the condoms, and Melissa noticed that he gripped the base of his cock real tight. To prevent his orgasm she guessed, and she felt incredibly flattered.
Ripping the box open, she took one of the condoms out, and held it up. “Who wants to go first?” she asked, hoping none of them would notice the tremor in her voice. There were so many things she wanted to do with those two men but right now she just wanted to be taken. Hard, gentle, she didn't care. In her own head she dared to be a little obscene. She wanted to get fucked. Period.
Chris took a deep breath, then he pointed at John. “I,” he started before he had to clear his throat, “I'm not sure I can last long enough this time around. Maybe John should start.”
The Sheriff looked into the hunter's eyes, then down to his cock, and grinned. It wasn't a mean or a malicious grin. It was full of humor, and he murmured, “Guess me jerking off like a teenager those last few days comes in handy now.”
She laughed out loud. “You did?”
Now he blushed a little as if he just now realized what he'd said. Then he nodded.
“I've been thinking so much about tonight, hoping, and wishing, and … well, my body reacted. I'm so glad Stiles hasn't any enhanced senses … otherwise I might have driven him up the wall.”
“Or out of the house,” Melissa added, and giggled like a little girl, remembering the night Scott had run off. She had to tell them about that night. Maybe later. Maybe tomorrow. Her gaze fell onto the condom in her hand. Definitely tomorrow.
“So,” she said, holding the little square foil up again, “you ready?”
John turned serious again. He reached for her, gently touching her face. “Hell yeah,” he murmured against her mouth. He took the condom from her, and turned around with a surprised noise when it was ripped out of his fingers moments later. He looked at Argent who quickly opened the foil, and for a few heartbeats John was irritated. Did Chris want to go first after all? Did he … oh. He groaned deeply, when very clever and very male fingers rolled the condom over his hard length, giving it a few firm strokes on the way.
“You keep doing that, and Melissa will have to wait a few hours before she will get anything,” he pressed through clenched teeth, gripping the hunter's wrist tightly. A smirk was the answer.
Melissa moaned at the erotic display in front of her, and without thinking she spread her legs a little. She wanted that thick, hard cock inside of her right now. Wanted to feel it pressing in, in, in until she felt full. Two sets of eyes turned to her, and she blushed.
“Did I … did I say that out loud?” she asked with a shy smile. Both men nodded, and finally John moved closer, lined his cock up, and slowly, so, so slowly, pressed it inside of her.
She let out a very content sigh when he at last bottomed out, and he leaned down to kiss her.
~*~
She felt amazing. Warm, slick heat surrounded John's cock, soft skin under his hands, a welcoming mouth on his, and the strong presence of the hunter behind him, a firm hand on his back, slowly sliding up and down. He remained motionless, afraid he might loose it the moment he started moving.
She took this decision right out of his hands when in an impatient gesture she pressed her hips up against his, and he growled. His self-restraint seemed to snap at that, and he grabbed her hips, and began to push into her. In, out, in, a little rolling motion with his hips, and she moaned again. Yes, this was what he had dreamed about. Her nails began to dig in his arms but it didn't register with him at the moment. He closed his eyes, and began to fuck her in earnest. Her little cries only spurred him on. Deeper, harder, faster, until she suddenly was quiet. He stopped abruptly, afraid he'd been too rough, and opened his eyes again, looking down at her.
“Fuck,” he gasped out impulsively at the sight that greeted him. And he now understood why she had suddenly fallen silent. It was hard to talk with your mouth full after all. Chris was kneeling beside him, his right hand rested on his, John's, shoulder, his left hand was caressing Melissa's face, while she was busy sucking him. From the noises Chris was making she had to be a natural. John smiled, and began to move again.
~*~
Chris had his eyes fixed on Melissa, staring down intently at her, taking in every little detail, every expression on her face, every gasp she made, every moan she couldn't suppress. His cock slid slowly in an out of her mouth, occasionally she bit him gently, sending shivers down his spine. He could feel his release approaching. Fast!
But he didn't want to come alone, so he reached down to where she was joined with the Sheriff, and touched her. She bucked wildly, nearly dislodging John who barked out a throaty laugh, gripped her tighter, and thrust inside her again.
She was so wet, and Chris gritted his teeth while stroking her closer and closer to her climax, praying that he wouldn't embarrass himself by coming too early. But after Melissa managed to take him in almost to the root he knew that he was fighting a loosing battle. He slowly pulled back, murmuring, “Ssh, wait, Melissa, honey, wait, please, I'm ...”
Before he was able to finish the sentence, she reached for him, stroking him hard and fast, pointing his erection at her breasts, and almost helplessly he came. Gasping he watched as his cum painted her tanned skin, and the moment the warm liquid touched her, she came, too. It was like a chain reaction causing John to come only moments later, shuddering through his release.
Chris could see that it was hard for the other man not to simply collapse on top of their woman, and he put his arms around him, steadying him. With a grateful smile, John rested against him.
~*~
She felt like floating. Warmth surrounded her, caring hands gently cleaned her up, pulled the covers up over her naked body who still trembled slightly in aftershocks, and then they were cuddling up close to her, one on her right, the other on her left, embracing her, making her feel loved and protected.
“That's because you are,” the Sheriff grumbled on her right, and she laughed slightly.
“I said that out loud again, right?” she whispered.
“Yeah, you did,” the hunter murmured on her other side.
With a happy sigh, she cuddled deeper into the covers.
~*~
They made love two more times that night. Melissa was convinced that the house, or better, the whole area had to be reeking of their activities.
And sometime between them kissing her, one of them pushing deep inside of her while the other man kissed and fondled her with so much tenderness and love that it took her breath away, and them all falling asleep again, she almost pitied her son who had to come home to that.
She smiled.
Almost.
~*~
When Scott and Stiles arrived at Scott's house the next morning, they were surprised to see the Sheriff's car in the driveway. But not only his car but also …
“That's the car from Allison's dad,” Scott murmured.
“You sure?” Stiles asked back, looking a little confused.
For a moment he wondered what he was doing here. They had played video-games until 2:30 in the morning, had gone through two bags of crisps, one bag of salt pretzels and three litres of coke until they finally had traipsed up the stairs to Stiles' bedroom and fallen into bed. That was: Stiles into bed, Scott on the air mattress. About ten minutes later the window had been opened carefully, and Scott had seen the familiar shape of Derek climbing in. The older werewolf had undressed himself quietly and slipped into bed next to Stiles who hadn't even woken up properly. He had just grunted, pushed himself closer to Derek, and that had been that. It had been Scott's mobile ringing that had woken them up at seven thirty in the morning. Derek had been gone by then, and Stiles had thrown a pillow at Scott's head yelling at him for not 'turning the damn thing off the night before'.
Already awake, they had taken turns in the shower, and decided to go over to Scott's place in the hope for breakfast.
So here they were. At 08:30 on a Sunday morning, staring at two cars in front of Scott's home.
Finally, Stiles switched off the engine, and announced, “I'm hungry. You comin' or what?”
~*~
Scott didn't know what to expect. He knew that Stiles' and Allison's dad were probably inside his home with his mom, and he had no idea why. Did they have dinner together, it got late and the men crashed on the couch? Why were they here in the first place?
Slowly, carefully, he approached his front door, ignoring the giggling from Stiles behind him. A light push against his back made him stumble, and he turned around to glare at his best friend.
“Oh come on, alpha,” he laughed, “afraid your mom might have a guy over, and might have had some fun tonight?”
And there it was again … the thought of his mom having sex. He pushed the key into the door, opened the door a fraction, and carefully sniffed.
With a surprised noise he opened the door fully. There was the clattering sound of dishes coming from the kitchen, two pair of man’s shoes were standing neatly side by side, and he could smell coffee, waffles, eggs, bacon, and overlaying it all was a completely new scent. The scent of warmth, of home, of love.
He followed the soft music and the humming to the kitchen, and just then his mom walked out. For a moment he was speechless.
His mother was preparing breakfast, wearing nothing than a white button-down shirt that was slightly familiar (and even before Stiles' muttered “That's my dad's shirt!”, thank you very much) and dark boxer-shorts that Scott's never seen before. Her dark hair was tied up in a loose ponytail.
“Mom?” he asked softly. She whirled around, and when she saw him, she beamed brightly, dancing over to hug him.
“Hey, baby,” she sing-songed softly, and he winced. He was almost seventeen … so … baby? Really?
“Mom, are you okay?”
Slowly, Scott stepped into the dining room, and glanced at the table.
Laid for three.
Again!
“Did you know we'd be back for breakfast?” he asked carefully, a little afraid of the answer.
Before his mom could answer though, there was another voice coming from the kitchen, “No, not exactly.” Scott swallowed when he noticed Chris Argent exiting the kitchen, walking up to his mom, embracing her from behind, and giving her a tender kiss on her cheek. “But I think we can put on two more plates, can't we, honey?!”
Scott's mind came to a stuttering halt, staring at those strong arms resting around his mom's waist as if they belonged there. And there was also the fact that Allison's dad only wore dark trousers, and nothing else.
(really nothing, a voice in his brain added with a little smirk, sounding a lot like Derek)
“Two?” Stiles asked behind him, and for a moment Scott felt unable to relate to that question.
“Think I'll leave the house without breakfast, son?” a deep voice behind them grumbled gently.
Scott shrieked, there was no other way to put it. Stiles' dad had come down the stairs, silently, surprising the hell out of the two friends. A hard knuckled fist met his back. “Couldn't you have warned me?” Stiles hissed, and Scott shook his head.
No. No, he couldn't because he was still trying to process the fact that Chris Argent was holding his mom like a lover.
And that Sheriff John Stilinski passed the couple with a “Two more plates?” and a quick peck to her cheek. And to Argent's cheek!
Stiles' laughter brought him back to the here and now. The laughter and the fact that all three adults were staring at him. His mom with something close to worry in her eyes.
But it was more than he could stand!
"Am I the only one who finds this weird?" he yelled suddenly, feeling insecure and foolish at the same time.
Chris Argent removed his hands as if he'd suddenly burned them, and even the Sheriff took a hesitant step back. Leaving his mom standing alone between them.
And Scott McCall felt like the worst son ever!!
The beautiful glow that had surrounded his mother ever since last evening seemed to disappear. Poof, and it was gone. All that left was his mom, standing there in a too-big shirt that belonged to another man, her shoulders slumping slightly, the smile vanished from her face. Wiped from there by him, her own son. Her son who should be happy for her and not dare to judge her.
The fist bump he got now from Stiles was a lot harder than before, and he stumbled slightly.
But before he was able to say something - to apologize profusely to his mom for being a jerk and an utter idiot - Argent and the Sheriff simultaneously stepped closer to her again, lending her the strength she seemed to need because her son was an idiot.
“Mom, I...” he began but was interrupted by the Sheriff.
“Scott, no!”
The older Stilinski took a deep breath, and moved even closer to Melissa, touching her shoulder. “I will not apologize for what happened between your mother, Chris Argent and me last night.” He cast both of them a soft look.
“And whether you like it or not, Scott,” - Scott, not son the way he usually called him. Scott felt like a bug right now. A really ugly bug. - “we all will repeat it. Again, and again. Because somehow we all fell in love with each other.”
~*~
Stiles was torn between the extreme happiness he felt for his dad, and the fury he felt for his best friend. How could he not see that this was beyond perfect?!
He had known that his dad had felt lonely ever since his mom had died. But he had never tried to replace her. Ever since that fateful day all those years ago he had put his whole energy in his job and his son, had made those two things his whole world. And now that he, Stiles, had Derek, his dad had finally dared to look for some love and happiness for himself. And he'd had the incredible luck to find not one but two people.
And Allison's dad … well, okay, that came a bit as a surprise for him. But after he had found them in his dad's bed together that one night, something had changed. He had sensed it then, and could see it now. It was comfort, familiarity, and - in a way - love.
And to him it was amazing!
“God, Scott,” he growled, “get your head out of your ass.”
Scott turned around to face him, a look of surprised hurt on his face. Stiles started to flail his arms, trying to encompass everything: the scenery around them, the atmosphere, their parents.
“You screw every pretty girl that lets you get to second base, and you frown upon your own mom? Seriously?”
Scott blushed furiously, and behind him Stiles could hear his dad snicker slightly. Or was it Allison's dad?
Did it matter?
He turned around, walked to his dad, and hugged him tightly. “I'm glad for you, dad,” he mumbled into his shoulder. His dad hugged him back just as tightly.
“That's not what I meant,” Scott murmured, sounding hurt, and sad, and immediately Stiles felt as if he'd kicked a puppy. Or hit a puppy with a kitten.
He didn't completely let go of his dad, just turned his head. “What was it you meant, then?”
“This … it just came as a surprise.” Scott took a hesitant step closer to his mother. “Why didn't you tell me?”
She smiled and relieved Stiles noticed that the tenseness had vanished from her. “I wasn't sure how last night would work out, baby,” she said softly. Stiles grinned into his dad's shoulder. Baby! Ha! Take that, Scott 'Baby' McCall.
“And now?”
A slight move back, maybe even unnoticed by her, brought her closer to his and Allison's dad. “I want to keep them,” she simply said.
And really … it *was* that simple.
Scott took a deep breath, looked up through his lashes, and finally smiled. “I'm happy for you, mom.”
~*~
Chris didn't realize he had held his breath, until he slowly released it, hopefully unnoticed by the rest of the people in the room. A knowing look from John told him that that hope was in vain. He smiled, then laughed. God, this was his life from now on. He wasn't alone any more. Had somehow found love again in such a strange place with two amazing people.
He turned to Melissa, gave her a peck on the cheek - absolutely ignoring Scott's little wince - and looked at John and Stiles.
“So, breakfast?” he asked.
The end