Baby • mashton [complete]

[3]

Chapter Three (edited June 2021)

Michael hiccuped on a sob, his fists banging against the bars of his crib as tears fell from his tired eyes. He clutched the stuffed kitten that Stiles bought him to his chest, crying a little harder.

Another hiccup cut off his cry as the nursery door opened and Derek came shuffling in, eyes heavy from sleep.

"Hey, bug, what's wrong?" He asked, gently gripping under Michael's arms, lifting the boy out of the crib. Michael sniffled, shifting and wiggling uncomfortably.

"I messy, Dee. Can't sleep," Michael cried, tucking his tear streaked face into Derek's neck. He whined when the man set him on the changing table, making grabby hands and wiggling with sleepy cries. Derek hushed him softly, changing him quickly, spreading a bit of rash cream on him before tapping a new diaper on him.

"Don't leave me, Dee," Michael cried brokenly, clutching Derek's tee shirt when the man picked him up again.

"I'm not leaving you, bub. Why don't you go lay with stiles while I make you a bottle? Does that sound good?" He asked, walking with a gentle bounce in his step out of the nursery. Michael nodded, whining softly into Derek's neck before he was set down in the entrance of the other man's room. Michael waddled in, clutching his stuffed kitten as he climbed onto the bed.

Stiles stirred when Michael settled into Derek's side of the bed, tugging the blankets up a bit.

"Hey, munchkin. What're you doing?" Stiles asked groggily. Michael turned to face him, rubbing the ball of his palm against his eye.

"Dee said I could sleep in here cause I no sleep in my room. Cuddle?" Michael said, his voice soft and high. Stiles chuckled, opening his arms for the boy to crawl into him. Michael smiled, cuddling down into the man's chest with his thumb in his mouth. Stiles wrapped his arms around the boy, rubbing his hand up and down his back.

When he heard Derek's footsteps, his slipped his thumb from his mouth and turned onto his back.

"Here bub." Derek crawled onto the bed, laying on his side beside the boy and offering him the bottle. Michael held his bottle in a loose grip, his eyes already starting to droop again as he suckled the warm milk out. Derek adjusted the blankets to cover all of them, pressing kisses to Michael's and Stiles' heads before laying down.

"Good night boys," He whispered softly.

"Night, babe," Stiles replied, resting his hand on Derek's stomach, his arm draped over Michael.

"Nigh' night, Dee. Nigh' night Sti," Michael mumbled, humming softly as he drank his bottle.

"Sweet dreams, munchkin," stiles kissed the boys forehead.