Scott freezes, hands hovering from where he had been redressing a wound on his upper bicep, gauze hanging from his mouth, and it takes him a moment to process the information. “What?”
“Let’s get married,” Stiles moves from where he had been sprawled out on his back on Scott’s bed over to where Scott stands at the foot, still frozen in place. “You and me, Scotty. Let’s get married.”
“Yeah okay,” quickly bandaging the rest of his arm, Scott sinks onto the mattress and lets out a huff of laughter, “let’s get married.”
Stiles nudges closer till their knees bump and takes Scott’s hand into his own, “I’m serious, Scott.”
“Stiles, you won’t even move in with me.”
“Okay, point.” Stiles somehow manages to inch even closer and intertwines their hands, “You were shot, Scott.” Scott rolls his eyes, fully prepared to argue that him getting shot isn’t a reason to get married, but Stiles continues on before he can say a word, “You were shot in the arm because some hunter didn’t like the fact that Derek and Allison mixed human and werewolf DNA and are having a kid so he tried to go all Rambo on our asses.”
The look on Scott’s face is blank and Stiles gestures widely, “And I’m a cop! Okay, granted, I probably am at a greater risk of being attacked by a mercreature than actually getting shot at, but still. We’re both at risk of something happening to one of us and- and I love you.” Scott raises his eyebrows at this, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and it’s that look alone that gives Stiles all the reason he needs to push forward. “I love you. I want to be with you. I want to live with you and go to sleep knowing you’re beside me and will eventually steal the covers sometime during the night. I want to wash our clothes together, and eat leftovers in bed, and, hell, I even want to watch those crappy reality TV shows you love.”
Scott’s full blown smiling by the end of Stiles’ confession, but the doubt still rests between his shoulders. The last thing he wants is for Stiles to make this kind of decision on a whim all because he got shot, “Stiles-”
With a sudden, impulse fueled movement, Stiles jumps straight off the bed and moves in front of Scott. Slowly, with his eyes trained on Scott’s, Stiles sinks down until he’s resting on one knee, “Scott McCall will you marry me?”
“Shit,” Scott runs a nervous hand through his hair and then exhales until his lungs ache, “You’re sure about this?”
“I’m down on one knee, Scotty. I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything else in my life.”
“Yeah- I mean, yes. Yes. I will marry you.”
The wind gushes straight of Stiles’ chest and he hovers for a moment, taking in the look of pure love on Scott’s face, before he frames his face and kisses him soundly. “Thank God, I don’t know what I’d do if you said no.”
“I could never say no, Stiles.” Scott presses a soft kiss to the corner of Stiles’ mouth, “not to you.” Resting his forehead against Stiles', Scott closes his eyes and lets the severity of the situation sink in for a moment, “We need to set a date.”
Shaking his head, Stiles sneaks in another kiss, “No. No, we don’t.” Scott’s eyes crinkle in confusion, “Let’s get married now. Today.”
“Stiles.” There’s a bit of wonder if Scott’s voice, laced with concern and bewilderment, “today?”
“Yeah, today. All we need are two witnesses. We’ll go to the courthouse, get a certificate and get married.”
Scott stands then and paces the floor for a few moments, scenarios- both the good and that bad- racing through his mind. Finally, he turns back to Stiles, who smiles as if he’s proposing they go out for a nice dinner and a movie rather than a trip to the courthouse and marriage. “Okay. I’ll call Allison, you need to call Lydia.”
“Okay?”
It’s not that he has doubts, or believes that he’ll regret it- it’s just that Stiles’ impulse decisions don’t exactly have a good track record behind them- like that one time he was turned into a fae for a day.
But it’s Stiles, and he loves him, so this is happening. Apparently. “Okay.”
Stiles is already halfway out the door, phone in hand, by the time Scott pulls on his jeans and hits Allison’s speed dial.
They make it to the courthouse in record time, sirens and lights blaring as they sped through the town in Stiles’ squad car, and Scott stares down at his left hand, trying to envision the way it’ll soon look with a gold band on his ring finger.
His concentration is broken by the sound of tires burning rubber as a car that costs more than both his and Stiles’ annual salaries put together comes screeching to a halt next to the squad car. Seconds later, neck-breaking heels peek out from the inside of the car as Lydia slides out, “It seems that congratulations are in order.”
Stiles rolls his eyes in her direction, a smile playing on his lips, and he goes to offer her what he believes to be a witty retort, only to have it die on his tongue at the sight of Cora and Malia emerging from the newest addition to Lydia’s car collection. “Lydia!”
“What? They were with me when you called. I couldn’t just leave them at the mall, Stiles.”
“Sure you could! It’s simple: you just drive away!”
“We could hear your whole conversation on the phone anyways, idiot.” Cora taps her ears and smirks when Stiles realizes what she means; her arms winding Lydia’s waist, chin resting smugly on her shoulder while Stiles groans about werewolves.
“If you wanted it to be small you should have called two different people because here comes Allison with Derek,” Malia jerks a thumb over her shoulder to where Allison is being unhappily helped out of the car by Derek.
Swatting at his hands, she rests one hand under her pregnant stomach and pushes herself up with the other. “I’m fine.” Derek mutters something to her that has her smiling despite herself as they make their way over.
Tossing his hands into the air, Stiles looks to Scott for support in his anguish, only to receive an overly endearing look in response. “Oh come on.”
Allison shushes his griping with a look and then takes Scott’s hands in her own, “Yeah?”
Pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, Scott squeezes Allison’s hands and nods. “Yeah.”
With an amused roll of her eyes, Lydia nods towards the courthouse. “Prove it.”
Accepting the challenge, Scott allows Stiles to pull him eagerly up the courthouse steps. The buzz between them is absorbed the by the rest of the group, and by the time they have the certificate in hand, the room is filled with anticipation and excitement.
“Now, you have twenty-four hours until you can get married here in the courthouse, so I suggest you make your arrangements with your family and friends and then choose a time that works for everyone.” The woman behind the counter, Daphne, smiles cheerily at them and slides the marriage under the glass barrier. “Have a nice day, and congratulations!”
There’s a deafening silence that follows after her mic goes silent and Stiles blinks in confusion, “Wait, what did you just say?”
Daphne narrows her eyes as she tries to process his confusion, “Congratulations?”
“No, no, before that.”
“Oh, by law you have to abide by the twenty-four hour wait period before you can get married in the courthouse.”
Dropping his head to Scott’s shoulder, Stiles bangs it a few times out of frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Twenty-four hours isn’t that bad,” Scott reasons and threads a hand through Stiles’ hair, “We can wait.”
“No,” Stiles shakes his head and presses his face into the curve of Scott’s neck so that he can think. “There’s got to be another way.”
“Stiles,” rubbing at the base of his neck, Scott’s voice does a slight transition from reasoning to the tone he uses when he’s mediating a fight between packs, “We can-”
“Boyd can do it.” Allison glances up from her phone to meet the surprised faces of her friends, “What? A few years ago Erica mentioned that Boyd got himself certified.”
“Did she say why?”
Allison shrugs, “Honestly, I didn’t really ask why.” Derek shoots her an odd look from where he’s perched beside her on the bench, one that’s similar to the looks the rest of the group is sending her. Pressing her lips together, she stares flatly at them despite the silence, “Do you want me to call him or not?”
“Yes, call him.” Looping his arm around Scott’s, Stiles pulls him towards the double doors. “We’ll just get married at your place. It all works out in the end Scott, don’t you worry.”
Scott’s laughter follows them out the doors, “Who said I was worried?”
By the time they arrive home, Deaton, Chris, Melissa and the Sheriff are all waiting outside of Scott’s door along with Boyd, Erica and their first addition to their family.
“What the hell,” Stiles considers just having Boyd join him and Scott in the car and locking everyone else out, but nixes that plan at the disapproving look on Scott’s face. Pushing the door open, he straightens his shoulder and heads over to his dad. “Hey there, Pops! Fancy meeting you here.”
“Yeah, well, I was just about to finishing an invigorating game of Sudoku when Lydia called me and told me to meet at Scott’s because- get this- apparently my son is getting married.” The Sheriff sends both Scott and Stiles a look that promises trouble if they don’t spill- and soon. “Mind telling me what that’s all about?”
“Well, that’s about it, actually. Scott and I are getting married.” Stiles sneaks a look over to Lydia, who avoids his gaze by pretending to be in an in-depth conversation with Derek.
“Alright, and you didn’t think about giving myself or Melissa a call first?”
Melissa’s lips are curved at the corners and by the look in her eyes, she’s less upset about it than the Sheriff, but still plans on letting him have a go at them until he’s run out of steam.
Thankfully for Scott and Stiles, the plan changes when she sees the floundering look on both of their faces. “Why don’t we all go inside?”
“Good idea Mom,” hurrying to unlock the door, Scott freezes at the sound of another car pulling up into the drive. “Who’s-”
Kira pops out of the car with Isaac and Danny in tow and starts quickly up the steps, “Sorry we’re late!”
Chris places a steady hand on Allison's back, which earns him an eyeroll that he chooses to ignore, and flashes Scott a dangerous smile. “Now it’s a party.”
Groaning, Stiles gestures towards the lock, “Great, now everyone’s here. Can we please just go inside now?”
Fifteen minutes later, the entire pack has filled every couch, loveseat and chair, gathering around in Scott's tiny living room with Boyd placed in the center.
Boyd tugs at the collar of his shirt before clearing his throat, “Are you two really doing this?”
“Yes,” Stiles grits his teeth and tries to shake the stress from his system, “for the last time, we’re doing this.”
“Took you two long enough.” Erica breezes back into the room and plucks her daughter from Malia’s embrace, settling the bouncing baby on her lap.
Struggling to push herself up from the loveseat, Allison swats away at Derek’s hands and manages to get herself upright with a gentle shove from Lydia. “Wait!” Taking both Scott and Stiles’ hands into her own, she presses two gold bands into their palms, “You can’t get married without rings.”
“How did you-”
Gesturing that she’ll tell them later, Allison gently turns them to face Boyd and heads back to her seat, snuggling into Derek’s side with Lydia’s hand resting reassuringly on her thigh. Across from them, Malia hands an already weepy Kira a Kleenex, pressing a soft kiss to her hairline as Boyd clears his throat for attention.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to-”
“Seriously Boyd,” Cora lets out a small laugh, “you’re not an actual priest, you do know that, right?”
“Cora,” both Derek and Lydia start at the same time, prompting her to quickly raise her hands in surrender.
“My apologies. Continue on, your holiness.”
Boyd lets out a snort before he replasters his serious face back on, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join Scott McCall and-” pausing, he turns to Stiles with a puzzled look, “Wait, what is your real name?”
“Just go with Stiles, trust me on this one,” the Sheriff pipes up from the back and Scott can barely hold back his laughter at the pinched look on Stiles’ face.
“Right, okay.” Boyd composes himself yet again, “We gathered here today to-”
“Finally!” Isaac shouts from beside Danny, earning chuckles and murmurs of agreement from the rest of the group.
“-finally,” Boyd winks at Isaac, who hoots in response, “join Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski in holy matrimony. If there is anyone here who objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Lydia scans the room with an evil eye before Boyd nods and continues on.
“Do you, Scott McCall, take Stiles Stilinski to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you-”
“Yes.” a blush rises from Scott’s neck to the tip of his ears and Stiles laughs airly at the sight of it, “I do.”
“Okay. Stiles Stilinski, do you-”
“I do.”
Sighing, Boyd looks up to the ceiling in a plea for patience, "Now for the exchanging of rings. Stiles- Really, guys?“ Crossing his arms over his chest, Boyd exhales loudly through his nose at the sight of both Scott and Stiles with their rings already on their fingers. "Alright, well then, lets just skip to the end why don’t we? By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband-”
Without waiting to hear the rest, Scott slides his hand up Stiles’ jaw and pulls him in for a kiss. Cheers erupt, followed by catcalls and wolf whistles when Stiles deepens the kiss, arms weaving around his husband’s waist to pull him closer.
Breaking the kiss for a moment, Scott traces Stiles’ swollen lips with his free hand and smiles triumphantly at him, “You do realize this means you’re going to have to move in with me now?”
“You sure you want all my Star Wars stuff in your house?”
Tapping his chin, Scott pretends to take an appraising look around his house before he focuses back on Stiles with a frown on his face, “How do you feel about an annulment?”
Pinching Scott’s uninjured bicep, Stiles is about to begin his tirade about how a simple certificate turned into an actual ceremony only to be silenced by Scott’s bubbling laughter.
“Maybe now I’ll actually be able to watch Star Wars.”
“You better count on it. I will be your Star Wars guide,” nuzzling at the curve of Scott’s neck, Stiles ignores the pieces of rice their friends are now pelting at them.
Scott hums happily and, without turning around, he raises a hand to their friends, signaling the end of the rice assault. The room fills with the talk of food and cake and Lydia's heels are heard clacking down the hallway just as the doorbell rings and Cora cheers loudly.
Satisfied that their family is distracted for the time being, Scott sneaks in another kiss, pulling back long enough to watch Stiles' eyes slowly open, and he knows the look on his face is nothing less than being, to quote Malia's usual proclamations, "disgustingly besotted." Inhaling slowly, he thumbs the cold metal now adorning Stiles' left hand. “My Yoda you will be?”
Pressing a soft kiss to the curve of Scott’s jawline, Stiles pulls back and smirks, “Your husband I will be.”
Resting their foreheads together, Scott lets out a small, contented sigh, before reclaiming Stiles’ lips with his own.