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Stiles was almost limp in Chris’ grip when they entered his apartment, and Chris would worry about that if Melissa hadn’t reassured him that, while Stiles was a little banged up, he was mostly exhausted and that he wasn’t in any immediate danger.
“We’re home, sweetheart,” Chris said, as he walked over to the couch, fully intending to sit Stiles down there.
“No,” Stiles slurred and clung harder to him, tightening his arm around Chris’ neck and pressing further into him.
“You need to rest,” Chris told him, but Stiles shook his head.
“Need to shower,” he said and plucked at his blood-soaked shirt.
Stiles wasn’t wrong about needing a shower, even to Chris human nose he smelled horrible, but Stiles couldn’t even stand on his own. There was no way he was in any shape to take a shower right now.
“How about a bath?” Chris asked, when it became clear that Stiles wouldn’t budge on the idea of getting clean first.
“Sounds good,” Stiles agreed and went boneless against Chris again, who finally just bent down and swept Stiles up in a bridal carry.
Stiles usually complained when Chris did things like that, and so it was a testament to how tired and worn out Stiles was when all he did was nuzzle closer to Chris. Chris carried him into the bathroom and carefully set Stiles down on the toilet for now.
It was a bit difficult to extract himself from Stiles, who had a surprisingly strong grip on him, but eventually he managed to get enough room to start a bath. The water was loud in the silence of the bathroom and soon enough steam began to rise as well.
“Time to undress,” Chris lowly said to Stiles, starting to unbutton his jeans and he snorted when Stiles wiggled his eyebrows at him.
“Sexy,” Stiles said, small smile playing around his mouth and Chris couldn’t help but snort at that. Trust Stiles to find some humor in every situation.
“It’s really not,” Chris admonished him.
Chris could still see the cruel glint in the demon’s eyes as it dragged its claws over Stiles skin, just hard enough to draw a little bit of blood. If Peter and Derek hadn’t barged in, Chris wouldn’t be able to bathe Stiles right now.
They had found out that the demon loved to eat the skin off its victims and Stiles had only barely escaped that fate. He came away with only a few, small injuries, thank god. But during their escape Stiles had fallen into a pool of blood of a former victim of the demon, drenching his whole front red.
Chris could understand that Stiles wanted out of these clothes, so he carefully took them off Stiles, making sure that there weren’t any injuries under the fabric neither of them had noticed before, but there was nothing. Stiles really had escaped almost unscathed.
Chris pressed his face to Stiles’ throat for a second, just breathing, because he could have lost Stiles tonight, while he had to watch, unable to do anything.
“I’m okay,” Stiles reassured him, patting his head and Chris couldn’t help the fondness that rose in his throat.
Of course Stiles would still be taking care of him, even though it was supposed to be the other way around.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Chris said eventually, shutting the water off and gently lowering Stiles into the bath.
Stiles groaned in appreciation as the hot water engulfed him, but he still curled his body towards Chris, as if he wanted to make sure that he was still there.
“I’m not leaving you,” Chris promised him, as he reached out for a wash cloth.
A lot of the blood already came off, staining the water a red colour, but Chris knew from experience that more than enough would still be clinging to Stiles.
He put some soap on the wash cloth and then began to clean Stiles, soaping him up and rubbing him down, making sure that the only red on Stiles was from the blush that spread over his body.
When Chris was satisfied he gently moved Stiles, who was more asleep than awake at this point, to tilt his head back, so that Chris could wash his hair too. When he massaged the shampoo in, Stiles moaned at the ministrations and made an unhappy noise when Chris washed the shampoo out.
“You’re all clean now,” Chris muttered, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ temple, who hummed at him.
“Now sleep,” he slurred, and Chris had to agree.
It was time to get Stiles into bed.
Chris lifted Stiles out of the bathtub, thick and soft towel at the ready to dry Stiles off. Stiles wasn’t even helping him anymore. He trusted Chris enough to get him safely into bed, and Stiles allowed him to move him however Chris saw fit.
Chris figured that getting Stiles into pajamas now would be too much of a hassle and as long as Chris would be there, Stiles wouldn’t be too cold, he knew that from experience.
So Chris carried Stiles into the bedroom, gently lowering him down on the mattress and pulling the blanket over him, before he stepped away to undress himself.
Stiles made an unhappy noise when Chris pulled away, but Chris quickly hushed him, and slid under the blanket a few seconds later. Stiles immediately turned towards him, pressing close and snuggling into his chest.
“Thank you,” Stiles mumbled and then finally fell asleep.
“You’re welcome, my love,” Chris still replied, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ forehead before he tightened the blankets around them.
He didn’t want Stiles to get cold after all.