Star Crossed Fluffers

Stiles is itching to get out of the house and run. He's been cooped up in classrooms for the past nine months, and today is the first day of summer vacation before he continues his academic journey by starting graduate school. He looks around his house that he has saved up for and paid for all on his own. It's a small one bedroom house with a living room, kitchen, bedroom and study where he filled his bookcase to the brim with hundreds of books. This is his place with his things, and it's a safe haven from the world.

He still goes out but not enough to have any true sense of the so-called college life that his classmates rave about. Stiles used to be a social butterfly and, for the most part, he still is, but after the death of his father when he was ten years old and the death of his mother his sophomore year of college, he withdrew. His friends cut ties, and Stiles is still not sure why, but it's okay– if he's honest with himself. He'll figure out the social side of things over the summer. However, right now it's time to play.

He goes to the back patio door which he leaves open most of the time and steps outside making sure to slide it closed behind him. He inhales deeply so that he can smell the green grass and the sweet breeze as it whips towards him after its journey through the gardens nearby. He strips off his shirt, shucks his shorts, kicks off his shoes and after stretching, he shifts, his boxers disappearing when he does. Now he can be free to play. He hasn't been able to spend time in his shifted form except for a few times here and there. He'd often shift and curl up on the couch because being in this form is the only time, he's truly comfortable in his own skin. He stretches relishing the warmth of the sun on his fur before darting down the steps. He starts purring, a little rumbling sound in his chest as he wades through the tall grass, making his way to a little burrow he made where he stashes things. When he crawls inside, there's a little blanket, a stuffed mouse toy, and his favorite thing, a small cluster of catnip. He's always careful when he partakes of the green stuff because he's kind of out of it when he has too much. He nibbles at it a bit and already feels a little floaty.

After a short little nap in his burrow, he crawls out and starts jumping around his yard chasing a butterfly and going cross eyed when a ladybug lands on his nose. He sneezes and wiggles his nose, swatting at the ladybug when it starts to fly away. He jumps up to swat at it and when he lands, he stumbles, feeling woozy. He didn't have that much catnip, but something smells really good. Whatever it is has him feeling super floaty as he lies down and rolls onto his back. The sun is bright, and the air is warm. He's content and settles into the grass for another nap.

When he wakes the second time, he bounds over to where his other stash of the catnip is and it's much stronger. He's feeling it today and wants a little more. After he devours more of it, he's a ball of energy and can't stay still for more than a handful of seconds. He's darting around the yard at lightning speed and ends up bouncing off the fence too. His vision is a little hazy and he doesn't notice when he ends up on the other side of the fence in someone else's yard. He doesn't stop his zipping around through the grass and starts rolling around swatting his paws at anything and everything. He goes cross eyed again when a butterfly lands on his nose and wiggles it until the butterfly hovers above him. He smiles at how pretty it is and allows himself to float on his catnip high. He feels relaxed, calm, at ease and sleepy. So, when the butterfly settles on his tummy, he doesn't mind a bit.

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Waking up after his playtime in the backyard is always an interesting experience. It's like floating from the bottom of a pool up, up, up until he surfaces and slowly opens his eyes. This time, however, when his eyes open, instead of the bright summer sun he expects to see, he finds himself in utter darkness. At first, he chalks it up to being nighttime, that is until he runs into a solid–metal bars? His little heart starts to beat just a bit faster when he realizes he's in a cage. Okay so maybe someone found him and thought he was a stray? That still makes no sense because he has a cloak on his backyard. Well, unless he wasn't in his backyard? Now is not the time to panic because there's a perfectly rational explanation for this. Maybe he can shift back and–what the hell?! He whimpers when he finds he cannot access his shifting ability at all, and only then does he finally feel the weight of a collar around his neck and being part spark he knows the collar is keeping him from shifting. Is now the time to panic? Wait! He perks his ears as he starts to hear voices nearby.