Sterek Shorts

Mr. Hale

"Look at that asshole. Sometimes I just want to punch him in the face for no reason," Stiles thought to himself. "Always smiling at the girls and all that shit. Who does he think he is anyways?" 

Stiles rubbed his temples and leaned on his hands. 

"Forget about him, forget about him. Forget about his perfect teeth and smile and face," Stiles thought again.

He looked at his substitute and sighed. 

"Maybe I'll kiss him first, then lick his jawline and THEN punch him in his perfect face." 

"Stiles!" Scott said out loud in a whisper yell, hitting his back. 

Stiles snapped out of his thoughts and whipped around. "What?"

"Dude, stop staring so much."

Stiles scoffed. "I'm not staring."

"You kind of are, I think you even have a bit of drool." 

Stiles hastily wiped his mouth and glared at Scott. 

"Ha-ha, very funny."

Scott smirked and nodded his head to the front. Stiles just waved him off and turned back around. 

Their substitute continued to lecture and Stiles continued to stare. He focused on his ass and his pecs the most, admiring how the sub chose to wear tight fitting clothes.

"I wonder if he chose that on purpose," Stiles thought. 

Suddenly, the bell rang. 

"Alright! Don't forget to do pages 145-147 and turn them in by the start of class tomorrow! I'll see you tomorrow!" 

Everyone got up, packed up their books and started to head towards the door. Once Stiles was close enough, the teacher pulled him aside. 

"I'd like to talk to you once everyone is gone, you can go take a seat at the desk," he told Stiles. 

Stiles groaned and walked to his desk, taking a seat in the chair. He waited for the last person to exit the room and for his teacher to close the door.

"So why am I being stuck here?"

"I wanted to talk to you about your behavior today."

"What do you mean?! I didn't even talk or cause a distraction."

"That's not what I mean," he said, sitting on the edge of the desk. "The staring and mouthing things. Jesus christ, the biting. I don't know what you're thinking of but you are thinking it while staring."

"Oh," Stiles laughed nervously.

"I ask you to think about that stuff on your own time." 

"I can't necessarily do that," Stiles muttered.

"And why not?"

"Well, you see, Mr. Hale you aren't at my house every night, so that makes it a little difficult," Stiles smirked.

Mr. Hale's eyes widened slightly. His posture straightened and his face grew pink. 

"That is inappropriate of you to say, Stiles." 

"I'm just being honest," Stiles said, holding up his hands. "I thought you said previously that you love honesty."

"I do, but that was too honest." 

Stiles laughed and stood up. 

"Am I good to go?" Stiles asked.

"You can in an hour. I want my desks cleaned and organized, thank you." 

Stiles dropped his bag and walked to the back of the room where the cleaning supplies were, rolling his eyes. 

"You aren't going to call my dad, are you?" Stiles asked.

"Do you think I should?"

"Obviously not."

Mr. Hale shook his head. "No Stiles, I'm not calling your dad."

Stiles sighed in relief. 

"I will email him though," He said sitting at his desk and opening his computer. 

"What?!" 

"Admitting to your teacher that you have fantasies of them is not appropriate school behavior."

 "Not my fault you wore that," Stiles groaned.

Mr. Hale looked up from his computer. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, I'm a person, I got my needs."

Mr. Hale shook his head and returned to typing. 

-Later-

Stiles was done cleaning when he returned to the desk. 

"Can I go now?" Stiles asked. 

"Yes, have a good night, Stiles."

"Yeah, yeah."

Stiles picked his bag up and slung it over his shoulder. "Bye," he said, opening the door.

"Goodbye," Mr. Hale responded.