#twacearonetwork

Scott sits her down during their senior year. Everyone has finally applied to college and the scramble to get applications done is finally coming to an end. Scott and Stiles sit on one side of the kitchen table, Melissa on the other. Scott and Stiles are pressed thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder, except for where Stiles is practically vibrating in his seat, and Melissa knows how nervous he must be if he can’t be still with Scott by his side. She watches Scott rub Stiles’ back, clasp their hands together on the table in front of them, one thumb stroking delicately over Stiles’ hands between theirs. Melissa thinks she knows what this is about, and the tightness in her chest relaxes.

“You know you didn’t have to sit me down to tell me you’re together, right?” she says quietly, adding her hand to the pile. Scott and Stiles smile at each other, and then set their matching grins on Melissa, and she’s lost in them. They’ll always be like this with each other, in sync.

“That’s it, mom. We’re not...we’re not together,” Scott says, and Melissa feels Stiles squeeze Scott’s hand underneath hers. “We’re, um...well...it’s complicated.” Melissa slides her eyes over the way that the two seem to be gripping so tight to each other that for them to be apart would probably start the end of the world, and then up at their smiling faces again.

“What do you mean it’s complicated?” Her breath hitches. She hates to bring it up like this, in this setting, but now she’s worried. “Scott...are you...are you pregnant?”

“No!” Scott and Stiles say at the same time, and there’s a flailing of limbs as Scott falls out of their chair. Stiles nearly follows, and Melissa suspects they’d linked their legs together under their chairs. She rolls her eyes. This, she knows how to handle.

“Okay, so you’re not with child. And you’re not together but it’s complicated.” Scott nods slowly one they’re back in the chair, settled against Stiles again and rubbing their elbow. Stiles wriggles in his chair some more, clears his throat, and then opens his mouth.

“Scott and I are friends, but it’s different. They don’t have romantic feelings for me. I don’t really have romantic feelings for Scott, either. I mean, sometimes I want to take them to the movies or call them silly nicknames, but that works for us. And we’re gonna, we’re gonna be friends for as long as we’re alive. But this friendship is different...it’s...it’s special.” Special. That’s an understatement if Melissa’s ever heard one, but she thinks that she can understand a little bit of what Scott and Stiles are trying to explain to her.

“Stiles did a bunch of research on it after he and Malia broke up. And it’s...it actually made a lot of sense for us. It’s called a queerplatonic relationship. And we’re...like friends but better. Friends 2.0.”

“Scott, are you happy?” she asks them, tucking loose hair behind her ear. She knows it’s taken a lot for them to get to this point, the amount of fighting and force that it took to propel themselves to healthy and well. And as long as Stiles will support that, Melissa wants them to be together in whatever capacity they need.

“I’ll always be happy with Stiles,” Scott answers, and the immediacy and breeze in their voice takes Melissa’s breath away a little bit. She’s never been this certain of anything in her life, not until the day that she gave birth. But Scott seems to know that this relationship, this particular iteration of it, is exactly what they need, and Melissa couldn’t be more proud of the young adult that she’s raised. Satisfied, she turns to Stiles, takes his hand and smiles at him.

“And what about you, Stiles? Are you happy?” Melissa knows that the pair of them still have to tell Stiles’ dad, but the sheriff is an easy man to please, and once he hears that the two of them have Melissa’s blessing, it’ll be an easy eye roll and hair ruffling situation that ends in hugs that muffle the sound of quiet sniffling. Melissa will shed some tears herself tonight, as her babies continue to grow up around her.

“I’ve never been happier,” Stiles says, and Melissa sees the way that his lips tremble, undecided between Melissa and Mom before deciding on nothing, and presses her lips together. Maybe the tears will come sooner than she thinks. She takes Scott’s hand in her free one and holds them tight.

“And you’re sure that this is what’s right for you? This...queerplatonic thing?” The phrase sounds strange in her mouth, but so did Scott’s pronouns at first. Scott and Stiles nod back at her, and there’s a moment of serenity. Stiles stops jiggling his leg, Scott leans into him, and Stiles sighs and leans back to support their weight, always in the balance of their tender push and pull. “Then I’m here for you. Whatever you need. I love you both. Very, very much.”

The conversation gets lighter, then. Stiles and Scott get animated with their hands while they describe how they’ll be decorating their dorm room for college. Scott whacks Stiles in the mouth when they illustrate exactly how big the tv that they’re saving up for will be, but Stiles gets his retaliation at dinner by getting spaghetti sauce in Scott’s eye. Melissa laughs along with them and helps Scott rinse out their eye, and at the end of the night sends Stiles home with an extra container of spaghetti and garlic bread for his dad. She doesn’t mean to eavesdrop on the pair of them at the door, but something seems different about their relationship now, the way that they hold each other at ease in each others’ presences seems more natural now that they’ve figured this part of it out.

Scott reaches out and touches Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles leans his head over and captures their hand between his chin and shoulder, and then they pull each other into a tight hug. Melissa looks away then, feels her cheeks pink as she intrudes on their private moment. She’s walked in on a lot of kissing in her life, but the ferocity of this hug is intimate and powerful.