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When he woke up alone, Chris had been concerned. A look at the red lights flashing 04:20 made his concern grow. Why the Hell were Peter and Stiles out of bed? The man got up, pulling on his sweatpants and screwing his face up at the clothes thrown around the room. He was sleeping with children (note: not actual children). A sound down stairs caught his attention and Chris made his way down the stairs. Chris raised an eyebrow at the sight before him; Peter and Stiles moved around in the kitchen, both of them dressed fully and not touching each other at all. Something must be wrong. Stiles and Peter were like touch starved puppies in the morning, always touching one of the trio in some way. The man moved closer slowly, guessing Peter must have sensed him already, well, if he wasn’t too busy… baking a cake? Okay, yip, something was going on. The man drew to his full height, in only a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips before he cleared his throat.
Both of his lovers jumped a little, Stiles flailing and getting chocolate sauce on his shirt. “Dude!” he cried out, looking down at the new mark with a small pout. “Not cool.”
“What are you guys up to?” Chris asked, not fazed at all by Stiles’ accident as he raised a greying eyebrow at them both.
“Up to?” Peter asked, leaning back against the island counter.
“Why would you think we’re up to something?” Stiles added, giving him a ‘you really should trust us more’ look. As if.
“You’re both up before me, on a Sunday, and you’re not clinging to each other.” The small blush on Stiles cheek made a smirk twitch on the corner of Chris’ mouth, but he made it stay down. He wouldn’t break until he knew what was going on.
“Well…” Stiles started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
Peter cut in, moving over to Chris and running a flour covered hand down Chris’ chest. “It’s your birthday.”
“And I’m pretty sure we agreed I didn’t want to do anything to celebrate it this year,” Chris pointed out, moving Peter’s hand away from him with a shake of his head. It wasn’t that Chris didn’t love the thought the two put into this, but birthdays just weren’t Chris’ thing. His dad had never given either of his children a big party, or heaps of presents. They would get a new weapon and training would go on as if they hadn’t turned another year older. Chris had gotten over it and he was fine missing out on the celebration now.
Stiles moved slowly from the counter, the chocolate smudge now replaced with a damp spot on Stiles’ grey t-shirt. Well, it was Peter’s, but Stiles often stole pieces of Peter and Chris’ clothing and neither of them really minded. “Chris, it’s different now.”
“I don’t want a party, guys,” Chris stressed, putting a hand on Stiles cheek and brushing a thumb across his cheekbone. “I’m serious.” The man pressed a small kiss to Stiles lips before pulling, moving his hand off of Stiles cheek. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go back to bed because it’s four in the morning. Feel free to join me.” Chris didn’t wait for a reply before turning around, making his way up the stairs and into the master bedroom. The man settled into the bed, pulling the covers back over himself and facing a wall. Was it selfish of him to turn his boys down like that? It wasn’t like they were doing anything wrong. They were trying to be kind and loving and Chris had shot them down without giving them a chance to change his mind. The Hunter let out a heavy sigh and pressed his face into his pillow.
“Room for another?” a voice asked from the bedroom door, Peter leaning against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow. When Chris didn’t move, Peter simply pulled off his shirt and sweatpants before crawling into the bed, next to Chris.
“Where’s Stiles?”
“He’s just cleaning up,” Peter mumbled into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around his Hunter, pressing light kisses along his skin. “I’m sorry if we upset you.”
“No… it wasn’t you,” Chris promised, turning his head so he could kiss Peter softly. “It was a lovely thought.”
“People will think I’m turning soft,” Peter whispered, looking into Chris’ eyes with pure love before shaking his head fondly, burying his nose into the older man’s neck as he drew his scent in.
Suddenly, a body threw itself on top of the pair and Chris let out a small grunt, Peter snickering behind him. “You are turning soft,” Stiles told Peter, smirking at the wolf and dodging the poor attempt the wolf made to bite the tip of his nose. “Not my fault you’re in love with us,” Stiles exclaimed, wriggling so he was on top of Chris, the cover between them as Chris lay on his back.
“I’m a dumbass for loving either of you.”
“You just admitted you’re a dumbass.”
“You know what I meant-“
“Na-uh, no take backs!” Stiles cheered childishly, squeaking as a hand snuck under his t-shirt and attempted to tickle his side. “Chris, save me!”
The Hunter rolled his eyes lovingly, catching Peter’s hand in his before intertwining their fingers, bringing the Alpha’s hand up to his lips and kissing his knuckles softly. “I love you both,” he said softly, smiling as he felt faces bury into either side of his neck, confessing their love back. Chris didn’t need a stupid date on a calendar to get gifts; every day with his lovers was enough to make him feel like he had everything he could ever need. Fuck, Peter wasn’t the only one going soft. The Hunter shook his head at himself and pulled the other two closer, just relaxing back and letting his eyes drift shut as he fell back into a peaceful sleep, his lovers pressed close to his heart, as they always would be.