𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 | ❝ run like the wind, and see how long it takes for your problems to catch up with you.❞
oliver sanchez is a fan of running away from his problems, but when his problems start chasing him, things become complicated. 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓...
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{1.8}
"old habits"
***
"Stiles, I-"
The words died in Noah Stilinski's throat as he barged in to his son's room, only to see the boy in question absentmindedly staring at his phone, his boyfriend unconcious and leaning on his chest. Stiles turned, motioning for the man to stay quiet, before pointing at Ollie, who was still fast asleep.
Nicole Denny entered seconds later, and Stiles knew from the expression on her face that something bad had happened. He tried to play dumb, his hand resting on the back of his boyfriend's neck as he rose an eyebrow at the two, "may we help you?"
"Is he..." Nicole's voice was positively brimming with disbelief, and her eyes widened as if she was about to burst into tears. "Asleep?"
Stiles grinned proudly, "why yes he is."
His father narrowed his eyes, "in your bed?"
"Why yes - wait, no." Stiles could feel his face turn red, but was determined to hide it at least a little bit as he shot the adults a nervous smile, "he was tired, so he fell asleep. I, legally, cannot move until he wakes up."
Nicole squinted at him, "is he not wearing a shirt?"
"Well... technically yes, but Ollie never sleeps in shirts... so I don't see how that is my fault."
His father sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head slightly, "whatever, you have to wake up, both of you are in big trouble."
Stiles felt a shot of nerves echo through his chest, and Ollie chose that exact moment to wake up. He mumbled something incomprehensible, tightening his grip around Stiles' middle -- which honestly wasn't helping the boy not blush. He looked up, squinting and speaking in a hoarse voice. "Stiles?"
Despite the situation, the boy smiled. "Morning, sunshine, did you have a good sleep?"
"Sleep?" He repeated, as if he had never heard the word before, resting his head back on his chest with a sigh. "I don't sleep."
Nicole crossed her arms, "Oliver, we need to have a little chat."
His words were partially obscured by the fabric pressing against his cheek, and Stiles honestly could not understand what he was saying at all as he mumbled in Spanish, "¿mamá? no puedo moverme estoy muerto."
A very surprised look crossed over Nicole's face, but Stiles wasn't entirely sure why. He settled with poking the boy's cheek, having not noticed the very faint dusting of freckles across his nose until then as Ollie turned to look up at him. "Why is your dad here?"
"I think you know why," the man challenged, and Stiles grimaced. He sat up, Ollie rolling over and doing the same with a yawn. Stiles leaned over to whisper to the boy, feeling the now-familiar sensation of looming panic settle over him as his father glared into his soul.
