We Go Back, We Go Forth
"We are gonna die," Stiles stated because yeah, they were cornered into abandoned hunting shed by freakin witch coven, outside was about minus hundred degrees – and no one was going to help them. Derek was visiting Cora in South America and Lydia was on date with Kira. They picked just perfect timing to explore their sexual orientation. Plus, of course, they were soaking wet, from how those bitches tried ritually drowned them in the river. Stiles was ritually sacrificed before and it was getting really annoying.
"Stiles, we're not gonna die," Scott barked to his direction as he tried to secure all possible entrances to the shed but leaving front door open for Malia, who just stepped in.
"Hey, are you, ok?" both boys asked at the same moment but it wasn't rhetorical question. Stiles knew that Scott wants to know just as badly.
"Yeah, I lead them off our trail," she noted, blue slowly fading from her eyes and went straight to Stiles, who was pacing, desperately trying to keep himself warm. Scott shut the door close and that sound made Malia turn her attention to him.
"What the hell are you doing?! We need to get out of here, we have to run!" were-coyote said and Stiles froze, no matter how much they talked about being human her coyote instincts were still strong. Maybe this time she will leave him. Maybe this time they will both leave. He wouldn't blame them for it.
"Absolutely not," Scott declared, slowly pulling her hand from the handle. "We wouldn't make it three miles, not with…"
"Not with me," Stiles finished for him and both of his friends looked at him. He was slowing them down. Again. Suddenly he felt tired, so he sank down on one of the two ugly chairs in the room, and run fingers through his hair. Scott took a deep breath and took a few steps towards him.
"It's not just you, dude," he said quietly. "I mean, it's gonna be freezing out there any second and look at us…" And Stiles did. Both shifters were wet like himself and both looked exhausted. Scott had deep, slowly healing wound on his hip and Malia was covered in bloody scratches. "None of us is in shape to run through the woods like that. We'll wait here till morning. Then we will run."
His last words were directed to Malia. She and Scott shared challenging gaze for a few seconds, but them were-coyote lowered her head in submission. Stiles exhaled in relief and relaxed shoulders he didn't know were tensed. If they would fight, they would never make it.
The coldness attacked his body once more, so he got up and started pacing again. He glanced at his two companions, who even they were in the same condition, didn't seem bothered by discomfort at all. Damn the supernatural body heat. When Nogitsune separated its body from his, he couldn't get warm no matter what. This was becoming dangerously the same and he hated every second of it.
"Ok, let's have a look around. See if we find something to start fire," he said, because someone seriously had to be practical here and since he was the only one on the edge of imminent death, it was his part to play. Scott nodded on agreement and moved towards the kitchen cabinet, but Malia was still. Stiles pushed the girl into smaller room, which was probably used for sleeping, giving the bed skeleton standing by the opposite wall.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, pulling away what used to be mattress, just to get scared to death by mouse size of elephant. But from the bright side, he also found half eaten blanket.
"Nothing," his girlfriend shrugged and opened dusty wardrobe. "Did you find anything?"
"He was right about us staying here and don't," Stiles pointed finger towards her direction, "try to change the subject."
"I know he was right," were-coyote slowly nodded and because she refused to look at him, he stood up, gently took her wrists and turned her to face him. Malia rolled her eyes but eventually gave up. "I know he was right. He is always right. It's both endearing and annoying."
"Welcome to wonderful world of Scott McCall," Stiles chuckled and Malia did the same. She cupped his cheeks and they shared a kiss, which was too short for his liking. Malia pulled away with frowned expression.
"You're burning," she said, her palm touching his face on different places.
"With love?" he offered jokingly, but somewhere deep down he knew that this won't work. He knew, because he stopped shivering and slowly became numb to the wet clothes. Numbness is never a good sign.
"No, you dumbass, with fever," Malia made a face on him and Stiles sighed. She grabbed his arm, by one hand, took blanket with the other and nudged him back into main room.
"Stiles, are you ok?" Scott lifted his head and Stiles knew he was listening. He mentally cursed himself for not thinking about that sooner because his best friend's eyes were full of worry. They were always like that lately and it wasn't fair.
"I'm fine, it's nothing," he assured both of his companions but Malia tilted her head and stepped in front of him.
"You're not fine," she repeated mockingly and then turned to Scott, completely ignoring Stiles' who was disbelievingly shaking his head. If they survive this, next step will be to teach her not spill everything out - especially not to Scott. His girlfriend had many qualities but restrain wasn't one of them. "He has fever and he's playing hero. We have to make a fire. Did you find something?"
"No," Scott shrugged, stood up from dusty floor and swept his hands over trousers. Stiles could say that he was annoyed to the highest level. "There is nothing, absolutely nothing. No gas, no matches, not even damn paper."
"We could burn down this stupid shed?" Stiles snorted, trying to light up the mood as usually. And as usually it wasn't working, all he got was two pointy looks.
"With what?" Scott raised brows on him and now Stiles wanted to die.
"Good point."
Malia let out frustrated growl and Scott sighed, running hand through his hair. If by this point Stiles hasn't felt sick, he was getting there now. He had no idea what to do. He couldn't run, fight or magically make fire from tin air and people to him closest always paid the price. Without thinking he grabbed blanket from Malia's grasp and threw it over his shoulders.
"It's ok, see? It's all good, no need to worry about Stiles, because he is comfortably wrapped up in blanket, all warm and fuzzy. Now, everyone takes a deep breath and think, about flowers and rainbows and…"
The looks he received suggested that he lost it. Maybe he really did, but Stiles couldn't stand that two people closest to him were worried about him. Just when Scott opened his mouth to say something reassuring as always, Malia cracked it.
"I honestly don't know how you two survived that long," and with that she took of her jacket, jumper and when she started rolling her jeans down, Stiles couldn't hold it anymore.
"M-Malia?" he tentatively said her name, but glanced at Scott who did everything in human power, and beyond, to not look at his girlfriend lacy underwear. Not that he would blame him for looking, because Malia was wearing nice black bra which fitted perfectly… "Malia, what are you doing?"
"We're going to share body heat," brunette shrugged innocently and Stiles glared at Scott, because now was the time to use his super-freaky compelling Alpha powers and tell his girlfriend that this was bad idea. Stiles didn't even care how lame that sound, but Scott was obviously thinking about it. He run palm over his face and sighed in defeat.
"She's right that might work, actually."
"Are you serious?" Stiles couldn't believe what he heard, but apparently this was happening, because Scott started taking his clothes off, while Malia was just checking him out completely without a shame.
His brain shut off for a second. He needed a moment to process that he was standing there between two very attractive, almost naked people, with his layers still on and he was cold, tired and this was getting ridiculous. Also very hot, but this was so not the time.
"Stiles, I'm not letting about freeze to death just because you don't want me to see your girlfriend's underwear. And really dude, hurry up, it's getting cold even for werewolf."
Stiles didn't bother to explain, that him seeing Malia's panties wasn't really the problem here. He met were-coyote's eyes and there was the knowing look. She learned to read him really well and he would love to say that it's progress if it wasn't completely inconvenient.
He turned away, started stripping out and his friends had at least enough decency to pretend that they are preparing bed. But bed was probably strong word for two ugly, dusty carpets, layered on each other and all that covered that crappy blanket he found. Perfect.
When he turned back to them, Malia was comfortably spread there, looking very much like sex itself. Scott was sitting next to her, pretending to be busy studying lines on the floor, trying to hold it together. Stiles took a deep breath and before he sank down between them, it occurred to him, this is exactly how three-way porn usually starts.
Like many nights before, Malia arranged herself behind his back and Stiles was so used to being little spoon by now, that he effortlessly tangled his legs with hers. It wasn't until that he noticed Scott grinning at him, Stiles rolled eyes on his other boy with unspoken 'shut up.' He involuntary shivered, though he felt Malia's warmth behind him, Scott still left more than a few inches between the two of them.
"What are you doing?" Malia lifted her head and disbelievingly stared at gap between two boys. "You're supposed to share the heat, not play awkward sleepover. Scott, move your Alpha ass closer."
His best friend sighed, like for a million times that night and before Stiles had any chance to fake a protest over Malia's words, Scott shifted his body closer. And then his girlfriend did the most unexpected thing, she moved her hand, which was gently scratching his back, throw it over him and her fingers caressed Scott's tattoo.
"Does it mean something?" she asked and holding his breath Stiles met Scott's eyes. As he expected there was the same sadness as always, when someone unconsciously reminded him Allison. It occurred to him that it was one of those things that never really fade away.
"It means open wound, "Stiles answered the question for him without thinking.
"Huh," sounded behind him and Stiles gazed on the tattoo, tracking Malia's fingers and he couldn't help it but wonder why Scott didn't shake her off yet. "And I thought we all have enough wounds for a lifetime. Why would you draw another on your skin?"
"I guess, it's a reminder," Scott said quietly, looked up to Malia and she laid her chin on Stiles' shoulder. Stiles couldn't see her but he felt her smile.
"Maybe you should start reminding yourself the good stuff too, you know."
"You're right," Scott answered and in that moment the sadness was gone and Stiles recognized the same teasing undertone, which was used on him many times before. "Maybe I should."
Without warning, Scott lifted the same hand Malia was caressing and throw it over his hip. Stiles froze and his mind went blank. He was too hot, too cold and his heart was beating frantically. All he could think about was Malia's cool breath behind his ear and Scott's warm skin on his body.
Suddenly he was tired of playing games, he was tired to pretend, tired with ignoring the connection which was always there. Not so long ago he told Scott that it's ok to want something. Stiles always wanted something and he usually found the way to get it. The only person, for who he could've been selfless was Scott but right now, he wasn't so sure about that anymore.
Malia was whole different story. With her he could've been selfish, she was trickster's spirit like himself and they complimented each other in ways he never guessed. Plus she always knew what he was thinking about. Sometimes when he looked at Scott she gave out private laugh, like it was so obvious to everyone but them. Stiles had serious doubts that her idea about sharing the body heat wasn't as innocent as it sounded in the beginning.
He watched as Malia's hand making her way over Alpha's tattoo, his shoulder and it slide on the base of his neck. And it probably should have been weird watching his girlfriend doing this to his best friend but it wasn't, not even in slightest.
"So, are you two going to kiss or what?" Malia gleefully whispered and before Stiles could decide if he wanted to kiss or strangled her, Scott moved closer and pressed their lips together.
Stiles hands moved on autopilot from there and he ran his fingers over Scott's uneven jaw. Kissing Scott was and wasn't different, than kissing Malia (or any other girl in that matter), his lips were a bit rougher but any less good. When he opened his mouth Scott's tongue slipped in effortlessly, like it always belong there. Stiles found Malia's hand in his hair and tangled their fingers together. Her lips were hot and familiar on his shoulder and Stiles thought he could probably get off just with this.
"What are we doing?" Scott asked when they broke the kiss to catch a breath, and of course he did, because Scott has to over think everything.
"Does it matter?" he answered with question and pulled him back for another kiss. They both knew the answer anyway. It didn't matter, because they were ScottandStiles and everything they did make and didn't make a sense, and it was ok.
The realization that they are not just ScottandStiles anymore came immediately in a form of Malia who impatiently whimpered over his ear. "My turn?" she offered and Stiles couldn't help but grin.
Stiles rolled on his back to give her better access, and she didn't hesitate to sit on him and straddle his hips. He steadied her by one hand, pulled loosen hair from her face with the other and when they kissed their tongues immediately found familiar rhythm. Same like before, the silent gasp next to them pulled him back to reality.
Scott's lips were parted, hands twitching from need to touch and his eyes wide and crimson red, unfocused flickering from him to were-coyote and back. Malia's eyes were flashing blue and suddenly her hand wasn't on Stiles' abs where it was resting until now, keeping him down but on Scott's cheek.
"May I?" she said eventually and Stiles couldn't help it but raised brows, because Malia never asked for permission. Not him, not anyone, not for anything. Scott probably didn't care for his Alpha powers at all in that moment because he just nodded absently and she leaned forward.
Their kiss took Stiles' breath away like it was him who was kissed. Malia bit Scott's lower lip and the moan werewolf lets out send shivers to every nerve in Stiles' body. With the thought that he wants be part of, whatever this is, he lifted himself to their level, put the hand on the small of Scott's back and kissed Malia's collarbone. He was hot, trembling, light headed and he wanted everything they could give him.
"Stiles?" he heard his name and it seemed coming from far away. He lifted his head and his friends weren't kissing anymore. Both were flushed, their lips swollen and they stared at him intensely.
"What?" he asked with annoyance, because if they want to say his name, that's fine but he would prefer to accompany that with some action. He leaned forward to lick his Alpha's jaw line but was abruptly stopped with Malia's palm on his chest.
"You know, this is not a good idea, right now," Scott held him under his arm and start pushing him back. "Why don't you lie down and we get some sleep? You're burning, man. Your heart is beating like crazy."
"What?" he asked again dumbly, because he completely forgot that this had completely different reason in the beginning and it shouldn't suppose to be make out session. "No, no, no, no, let's get back what we were just doing. I'm fine, just…"
"Stiles," Malia's voice let out no compromise. "He is right, you know he is and you're not fine. You look like you're going to die every second."
Scott shot her look which implied that more empathy should be in place but this was Malia, so she ignored him and held Stiles down with zero effort.
"Are you… are you serious? You two are teaming up on me?" Stiles got really offended when Malia snorted and Scott patted his shoulder in compassionate manner.
"Isn't that what you wanted just a few seconds ago?" that little shit pretending to be his best-friend asked and Stiles narrowed eyes on him.
"Exactly!"
If the room wasn't spinning with him, Stiles would consider trying to argue with them and talk some sense into their heads. So, maybe was dying but who would say no to hot three-way sex? The answer was obviously Scott and Malia because they both sled down, and wrapped up themselves around him.
"I hope you don't expect that I fall asleep after what we just did, right?" he mumbled unhappily, but he could also be called 'big fat liar,' because the moment Scott tugged them under blanket, Stiles literally passed out.
X
When he woke up, the room was still dark, but there was dim light peaking from behind the window shutter. Stiles felt warm, he couldn't move and after two blinks he found out why. Scott was glued to his side, their legs tangled together and he was quietly snoring in the crouch of his neck. Stiles noticed the damp spot in his best friend's hair, where his mouth was just a few seconds ago. Oh, wonderful… and gross. Malia was sprawled on top of him, using his chest as pillow and her hand over Scott's shoulders, possessively tugging Scott closer to both of them.
His werewolf and his were-coyote. Stiles never wanted to wake up in any different way. They will get up, kill those stupid witches (at least he hope so, but Scott will surely come out with plan which won't hurt a fly, but maybe he and Malia could persuade him for some violence) and then finally he will get to have some good time these two.
"Whatever you're thinking about – stop. I want to know who will put on those wet clothes again," Scott muffled into his skin and Stiles had problem not to start laughing and wake up Malia. Too late. The girl lifted her head and narrowed eyes on both of them.
"I hate you both."