The One-Shots | D.O'B.

Now Let Me Hear You Cheer | Stiles

Stiles Stilinski is not subtle.

Especially when it comes to his staring, which was made very clear to you the day you first joined the team, before later showing up at his house in your new cheerleading uniform.

And his eyes had nearly bugged out of his head.

And he drooled.

Literally drooled.

All down his chin.

And it's for this very reason that you've decided to wear the dangerous outfit to school today, just to make sure he gets a really good look.

Technically, practice isn't until after school, and most of the other girls prefer to change in the locker room just before.

And that's normally how you prefer it, too. After all, this skirt leaves little to the imagination but even more so...it lets in a draft.

And it's February. And very cold, and very brisk, and your legs are very bare.

But it'll be worth it to watch the line of drool dribble from Stiles' mouth as you swing your hips by his desk.

And you're rewarded with exactly that as you saunter your way from one side of the classroom to the other, pretending to be oblivious to your charm, and to his presence, as you call a greeting to your friend.

You keep your back to him because you know if you catch a glimpse of his face, you'll smirk. And if he knows you know what you're doing, then he'll make sure to make you regret it.

...which, you suppose wouldn't be the worst thing.

Still, you keep him behind you and begin a conversation with one of the other girls on the team. You exchange stories about how your weekend was and what you're looking forward to during practice.

But you don't miss the sound of his throat clearing. You don't miss the sound of his chair scraping across the floor, or the sound of his footsteps parading after you.

And you smile.

"What, no hello for me?" comes the familiar, soft taunt, slipping just over your shoulder.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and glance to the side. "Hm? Oh, yeah. Hey, Stiles."

He swallows a scoff. "Oh, I think you can do better than that."

Your eyes roll as he steps in front of you and leans back against your desk, forcing your attention on him.

Then, he grins. "So...do better."

Still, you keep your playfully annoyed expression firm on your face as you shrug and let out a heavy sigh. "Fine. Hello, Stiles. Is that good enough for you?"

"Mm-mm." His head shakes. "Try again."

Your arms cross in front of your chest. "Well, it's just gonna have to be, because class is about to start, and I don't have time for this."

With that, you reach out to lightly shove him to the side and out of your way so you can slip by and take your seat.

But you hadn't anticipated the contact to be so...electrifying. You suppose it makes sense. After all, you and Stiles haven't really had a lot of...quality time together recently. Both so busy with extracurriculars, homework, and friends.

You hadn't meant to go two weeks without, and truthfully, you thought you'd been doing fine. Sure, once in a while, you'd find yourself lying in bed with your fingers between your thighs. But Stiles was always on the other side of that phone call, talking you through it, telling you how much he missed it, and how pleased he was to hear you fuck yourself to the sound of his voice.