Preface

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Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/45706189.

Rating:
General Audiences
Archive Warning:
No Archive Warnings Apply
Category:
Multi
Fandom:
Teen Wolf (TV)
Relationship:
Lydia Martin/Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate/Kira Yukimura
Characters:
Lydia Martin, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Stiles Stilinski, Malia Tate, Kira Yukimura
Additional Tags:
Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, Sharing Clothes, Polyamorous Pack, Polyamory, Established Relationship, Multiamory March 2023
Language:
English
Collections:
Multiamory March, maevedarcy's multiamory march 2023 works, Daily Scott Fic Rec Archive
Stats:
Published: 2023-03-13 Words: 1,265 Chapters: 1/1

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Summary

As soon as he makes it to the kitchen-slash-dining room-slash-living room of their tiny apartment, he immediately notices two things: first, Stiles is wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants that look extremely familiar, and second, Kira is falling asleep with her head on her hands wearing one of his t-shirts.

 

[Or, shameless, tooth-rotting fluff featuring the McCall pack]

Notes

Written for Multiamory March Day #13: Sharing clothes.

The first line was lifted from this post of polyam prompts.

sharing is caring

“Yes, you both look adorable, but can I please have my clothes back?” asks Scott, standing next to the closet where he couldn’t find a pair of sweatpants because he still hasn’t done laundry while one of his girlfriends stood on the other side of the room wearing his last clean pair.

Malia, who is only wearing a sports bra and Scott’s pants, doesn’t look sorry. “I’m going on a run,” she says as if that explains things. In a way, it does. Scott has a feeling Malia hasn’t done laundry either.

“What about my hoodie?” he asks in Lydia’s direction, giving her his best pout.

“This is Stiles’,” she replies.

“No, it’s not.” The hoodie in question has his name on the back, a leftover from his lacrosse days.

“Stiles was wearing it yesterday. It’s Stiles’,” she says with finality that doesn’t leave room for any discussion.

With a sigh, Scott goes to Stiles’ room to see if there’s anything else he can borrow from his closet and finds a pair of Stiles’ jeans that should fit well enough. When he tries them on, they’re a little on the tight side but it’s enough to go have breakfast.

As soon as he makes it to the kitchen-slash-dining room-slash-living room of their tiny apartment, he immediately notices two things: first, Stiles is wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants that look extremely familiar, and second, Kira is falling asleep with her head on her hands wearing one of his t-shirts.

Scott goes to Kira first, moving the book in front of her to the side, then gently shaking her awake.

“Hmm?” she mumbles. “whattimeisit?”

Scott smiles. Kira looks adorable when she’s sleepy, her hair in a messy bun, stray hairs framing her face. “Almost 8.”

“I have to go to class,” adds Kira. “Someone remind me next semester that 8:30 is still too early.”

“Will do, babe,” calls Stiles from the stove. “I’m coming to you with coffee and french toast in a minute.”

“There’s French toast?” asks Scott hopefully, his stomach grumbling at the thought of food.

“For Kira, who got up at 5 to revise? Yes, there is. For the wolf that last night wouldn’t stop elbowing my side, there’s only scrambled eggs.”

“Aw, come on, babe,” he says coming behind Stiles, putting his hands around his waist, then his chin on Stiles’ shoulder, their bodies flush against each other. He inhales deeply, letting Stiles’ intoxicating scent linger in his nose. Stiles smells like a combination of Malia’s shampoo and Scott’s aftershave. “Can I have some French toast, pretty please?”

Stiles sighs and leans back against him. “Hmm, I don’t know. What time are your classes today?”

“At 10”—he kisses Stiles’ shoulder—. “Then I have another one after lunch.”

“So you’re not in a rush?”

Scott, thinking that maybe he’ll get a trade offer of French toast in exchange for shower sex, replies right in Stiles’ ear, “not in the slightest.”

“Hmm. Then you can make your own French toast,” Stiles turns around and gives him a quick peck on the lips, then squirms until Scott lets go of him to serve Kira her breakfast.

“Unfair,” Scott pouts but it gets him no sympathy.

Lydia comes out of her room now perfectly dressed, a short skirt with a flower pattern, a burgundy t-shirt that looks like Malia’s, and, on top of it, his hoodie. Scott thinks it’s warm enough to forgo the extra layers but Lydia is always complaining about how cold her lecture halls are.

“Lydia, your smoothie is in the fridge,” says Stiles. “And there’s fresh coffee too.”

“You are amazing,” she replies, taking a small detour to kiss him on the cheek before grabbing her breakfast from the fridge. She also grabs a couple of ripe bananas, just in time for Malia to come out to the living room looking sexy as hell in her running clothes. Lydia offers Malia a banana and Malia kisses her briefly in return.

“Thank you, babe.” She adjusts the phone in her arm band and plugs in the headphones. She stops to briefly give Kira a good luck kiss “I’m leaving. Good luck, Kira. Love you, guys, see you later.”

There’s a chorus of “I love you” and “see you later” in reply, and then she’s gone.

Lydia sits down next to Kira. “How are you feeling about today’s test?”

“I feel like I need to stop taking morning lessons forever and ever.”

Lydia grabs her hand and says, “I’ll remind you next semester.”

“Thank you,” she straightens up and drinks the rest of her coffee, already more alert than she was a few minutes before. Scott makes himself a cup of coffee as well, since he might be in the kitchen for a while.

He starts gathering the things he needs to make himself some eggs when Stiles says, “there’s French toast batter in the pink container in the back.”

Scott turns around with a smile on his face, “I knew you’d make extra.”

“It was in case I burnt the first batch,” he shrugs.

“Nah, it’s because you love me so much and don’t want me to starve,” Scott replies, grinning as he goes to the fridge to get the batter.

“Fine,” Stiles concedes. “I do. Eat your toast. I have to go get dressed.”

Scott methodically soaks his slices of bread in the batter, then drops it on the heated, oiled pan. The sizzling sound makes his stomach growl harder.

Once he’s done and he has plated his toast, he drowns it in maple syrup and sits next to Lydia who frowns.

“You need to eat less sugar, Scott. That can’t be healthy,” she says.

“I’m a growing werewolf, I need the extra calories.”

Kira huffs, “you’ve been saying that since we were in high school.”

“It’s been true the whole time!”

Stiles makes it back to the kitchen then, “is Scott complaining that his French toast doesn’t have enough sugar in it?”

Scott doesn’t get to reply because just a glance in Stiles’ direction leaves him speechless. Stiles' now wider frame fits perfectly in one of Scott’s t-shirts, stretching over his shoulders. His faded jeans and a pair of vans complete the outfit, making him look casual and yet like the most handsome man he’s ever seen.

“Why does everyone seem to have some of my clothes except me?”

“I’m wearing Stiles’ hoodie,” Lydia adds, standing up. She quickly rinses the tall glass where her smoothie was served, leaving it upside down on the counter to dry.

“It’s not Stiles’—” but he doesn’t get to finish when Lydia just raises a serious eyebrow at him.

“Are you ready?” Stiles asks Kira. Stiles always drives Kira to her classes, even the ones at 8:30 am when he doesn’t have any. Scott thinks it’s endearing.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, let me grab my bag.”

Once they’re set —and Scott has almost inhaled his French toast—, both of them come to kiss him and Lydia goodbye, moving around each other effortlessly. “Love you,” he tells them.

“Love you too,” they call as they leave.

“I guess it’s just us, then,” Scott says to Lydia.

“You have statistics, right? Do you want to be my sounding board for my next paper?”

“Sure, where do we start?”

“You can start by getting the whiteboard,” she zips her —his— hoodie up, then goes to the room where she usually sleeps to get her books.

Scott happily complies, the sight of his girlfriend wearing his clothes warming his heart to no end.

 

Afterword

End Notes

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