child soldiers. | stilesism
→ allison !
ALLISON COVERTLY GRINDS HER TEETH as she helps stiles lift his shirt. she’d braced herself for the pain in her side and the accompanying ache in the rest of her body, but she wasn’t prepared for the pricking sensation in her back. that’s new. and as sweet and understanding and discreet as she is, allison is NOT looking forward to seeing melissa tomorrow. she is, though, proud of herself for hiding a grimace as her eyes fall back to stiles’s. she retrieves his hoodie off the floor and hangs it beside his shirt on a hook on the back of the door. there’s still the ghost of a smile on her face when he starts to flounder.
that smile fades entirely when stiles turns around. she gasps so quietly it’s almost silent. she blinks and a hand comes up to touch her bottom lip. his back is beautiful and smooth and chiseled, but discolored. nothing is broken, it’s just jarring to see porcelain skin with so many popped blood vessels. she doubts he’ll even bruise beyond this—these marks are indicative of scratches that couldn’t quite pierce fabric. “hold on,” she murmurs. gingerly, the huntress runs her fingers along the curve of stiles’s shoulder blade, pressing lightly. ( melissa is going to have a field day. ) allison reels herself in and kills that thought. she can worry about the hospital tomorrow. her priority right now has to be getting stiles into a bed and having him REST. the likelihood of popped blood vessels killing him in the next 24 hours is slim, and she knows that.
sleepily, her hand traces over the bottom-most curve of stiles’s shoulder blade. in a moment of exhaustion-induced impulse, she allows her free hand to reach for stiles’s waist. she rests her forehead against the middle of his back. she sighs deeply. stiles is so warm, but allison doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable, and she’s worried she’s toeing a boundary now that has gone previously untested. and y e t … she can only have so much self-restraint when she’s T H I S tired.
“i don’t wanna be alone,” she admits quietly, her arms wrapped loosely around stiles’s torso. she closes her eyes and rests her cheek against the curve of his spine. she listens to him breathe. “i’ll wait outside, if you want me to.”
as gentle fingertips caress the skin of his back, stiles finds himself rolling his shoulders backwards into the touch, straightening his posture as he does. he wonders idly what she may have found there, but not enough to expend needless energy in opening his mouth again. what he can’t hold back, however, is the soft sigh that falls from his lips as her hands find the middle of his back, and then his waist. his own eyes fall closed, appreciating the simple soft touch, skin-to-skin, after such a hideous day.
her whispered confession causes stiles’s heart to ache, and after only a brief moment of hesitation, he turns in her embrace to wrap his arms around her -- gentle, but firm. he tangles the fingers of one hand loosely in the hair at the back of her head, and rests his chin atop it, eyes closed as he sighs into the steam - filled room. it’s been a long day. all of his apprehension suddenly dissipates into the steam just as easy as the words had fallen from her lips. this is good, stiles thinks. it means he can compartmentalise his own issues and ride out the slight adrenaline kick of being on a mission to help.
“i got you,” he insists quietly, and pauses for a brief second longer, before slowly de-tangling his limbs from hers in order to finally get them both to bed a whole lot quicker. he meets her gaze, a look of sleepy determination in his eyes, nods once, and hops out of his jeans and socks, tossing them into the pile with the rest of his clothes. as a second thought, before stripping off the last article of his clothing, he gently guides allison towards the toilet seat he had recently vacated, and promises quietly, “i’ll be super quick.”
with that, he turns his back to her once more and draws in a long breath before slipping out of his boxers, tossing them onto the pile, and hopping into the shower, all before he exhales and draws in another breath. with the curtain now shielding him from her view, he slumps against the wall for a brief moment, his forehead resting upon his forearm as the water soothes the bruises and sears the open wounds. his jaw clenches and his eyes scrunch closed against the pain, and now that he’s in there, and he’s warm, he has to try incredibly hard to convince his muscles to cooperate with him.












