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Chris woke up fully alert, but did not move. He took a few seconds to listen to the breathing of his bedmates behind him. There was a deep one—borderline snoring. It was the usual sound Stiles made, right until his last hour of sleep when his breathing would quiet. One would almost think he was faking his slumber, if not for his being startled whenever someone woke him during the phase.
Peter’s breathing was soft but not even, indicating he was awake.
Peter huffed.
Chris rolled over and hid his amusement behind a mask of nonchalance.
Stiles was spread out across most of the bed with his face planted into Peter’s pillow, while he cuddled his pillow to his chest. Drool dribbled out of Stiles’ mouth and onto Peter’s pillow.
Peter was splayed across Stiles’ back with one arm draped around his shoulders and a leg looped around Stiles’. Peter’s normally perfectly kept hair was in utter disarray to the point that “bedhead” was a polite descriptor.
Peter glared at Chris.
“Personally, I find this adorable,” Chris said.
Peter glowered down at the oblivious boy. “I’d like to see you deal with this and laugh.”
Chris raised an eyebrow at Peter, silently willing his long time love to remember the first few nights Stiles had spent with them.
They had started by putting Stiles in between them, but had soon learned that unless they both wanted to end up kicked in the middle of the night, Stiles needed to be on an end. The next night Chris took the middle. He vaguely remembered Stiles bumping into him and him batting Stiles away. When he woke up the next day, Stiles was curled up the floor. On the third day it was Peter’s turn to be in the middle. Chris had slept soundly, but the next morning he found Stiles in the middle of the bed with Peter on top of him.
Peter had claimed then that he could get enough sleep while pining Stiles, and it appeared most nights that was the case. However, every now and then Peter woke up looking like he was contemplating murdering Stiles.
“We could always kick him out,” Chris said.
Peter snaked his arm tighter around Stiles and nuzzled the back of his neck. “I believe I’m the one who makes such callous and cruel remarks.” He pressed a kiss to Stiles’ neck. “Don't let him hear you say that.”
Stiles’ past insecurities that he was a third wheel in Peter and Chris’ relationship had mostly vanished, but every now and then they reared their ugly heads.
Chris leaned over Stiles and pressed a kiss to Peter’s mouth. Their lips brushed in a languid dance. Chris let his eyes fall shut as he soaked in the tender moment. He could smell and taste a hint of the undesirable morning breath from Peter, and knew he probably tasted no better. Even so enjoyed the simple touch that spread a warmth through him.
Chris slowly pulled away from Peter and ran his hand over Stiles’ back, letting a small smile shine through. “Just remember, he’s at college now, and you only have to put up with it on weekends.”
Peter rolled his eyes. He acted haughty, but Chris saw the way Peter pressed himself closer to Stiles and brushed his fingertips across the strip of bared skin along Stiles belly.
Stiles’ nose scrunched as if in his sleep he knew someone was touching his ticklish spot.
“Admit it, you love it. You love that you have an excuse to pin him down and smother him in your scent,” Chris teased.
Peter pushed himself up, so the blanket fell down his body and settled along his waist, showing off a well-sculpted body that bested Chris’ own. He bent over Stiles, caging the boy in, as he leaned into Chris’ space. His face hovered inches from Chris’. He hummed thoughtfully. “You’re right, I do enjoy claiming my territory.”
One of Peter’s hands wandered up Chris’ arm, causing the hairs to stand on end and Chris’ muscles to tense in anticipation. “However, if I am going to do it properly…” Peter’s hand grasped the back of Chris’ neck, and suddenly Chris was yanked down next to Stiles, who was startled awake by the movement. “…I really should smother you both.”
Peter had pinned them both, bracketing them in with his arms at either side. He smirked down at them predatorily.
Stiles groaned and rolled into Chris, burying his face where Chris’ shoulder and neck met. He cracked one eye open to glare at Peter. “It’s too early for this. Let me sleep, you dick.”
Peter growled and looked offended. “Are you joking? Do you know how much sleep I lost because of you?”
Stiles screwed his eyes shut, held up and a hand, and shushed Peter. “Sleepy time.”
“I don’t think so.”
Peter dove for Stiles’ throat and nuzzled it, adding in a reprimanding nip.
Stiles squirmed and hugged Chris. “No! Chris, save me.”
Chris chuckled and returned the embrace. He gently bumped his forehead against Peter’s, then tagged teamed with Peter to nuzzle Stiles.
Stiles whined. “I hate you two so much.”
“You're lying,” Peter stated.
Stiles’ flung his pillow at Peter. “Shut up!”