sssssssim asked: SO. Stiles called Ms McCall 'mom'. Okay, he was slightly possessed and very sleep deprived and sedated at the time, but he did it. What if he does it again, maybe without realizing it, just randomly in the middle of a conversation? How would Scott react to that?
"Are you sure you don’t want anymore, Sweetheart?" Melissa asked as she slid her fingers under Stiles’ plate, smudged with the remnants of second helpings and melted cheese. She’d made sure to pack as much onto his plate as she could get away with, but he still looked too pale, too thin.
"I’m fine, Ms. McCall," Stiles smiled, holding a hand up in surrender, "I’m pretty sure the mountain you gave me for my second helping is gonna keep me full for a week."
"You ate less than Scott did," She snorted, but she took his plate from the table anyway, giving her son a look as she did so. Scott just shrugged.
"Werewolf metabolism," The darker teen said easily.
"Whatever, Scott, you just can’t admit you’re a pig," Stiles laughed, standing up from the table with a sated groan. Scott was on his feet a second later, grabbing what was left of dinner from the table and carrying it into the kitchen for his mom. Stiles followed after him at a relaxed pace, his stomach straining against the hem of his pants.
"Well, I don’t know about you two," Melissa smiled, "But I have an early shift in the morning, so I’m gonna go pass out. You boys need anything before I turn in?"
"Nah, go get your rest, Mom," Scott grinned, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek, "We’ll be fine."
"Alright, then, Sweetheart. Goodnight."
Melissa started toward the archway leading to the living room, giving Stiles a motherly smile and a quick kiss on the cheek, “G’night, Stiles.”
Melissa, for her part, barely reacted to it. Her smile stuttered but widened and she gave him a pat on the cheek before leaving. Stiles let himself glance over to see Scott staring at him smugly, arms crossed over his ridiculously buffed out chest.
"Shut up," Stiles grumbled.
"I didn’t say anything."