Work Text:
He’d only been able to share this date with Mischief and Noah a couple of times before fire up ended his world. And one of those times he’d torn Noah a new one, not in Stiles hearing of course, but enough that Noah had more or less banned him from seeing Claudia’s son.
At the time he'd nearly thrown up with the realization that he didn't even consider Noah worth being Stile’s father.
Which had been something that had bled over even after he’d woken from the coma. It had taken a lot of Stiles and Noah coming off worse for wear fighting with a werewolf, to get them to this point.
To a point where he could spend this date with them both and not feel as though there were spiders crawling over his skin.
To where he couldn’t feel Claudia’s sad smile.
Today, Noah had shared stories with them, ones he was sure Stiles had heard a million times before but still loved all the same. And he shared ones about his and Claudia’s time at college and university, trying to remember new ones for Stiles to hear. Stiles had cooked and he and Noah had talked.
All after the three of them had laid flowers on a grave that shouldn’t be there.