Sterek Stories - A Collection - II

Two's company, three's a crowd

EXPLICIT!
18+
NSFW

__________

He's drunk. Not the everything-is-spinning-and-I'm-gonna-throw-up kind, the nice, buzzing kind. However, he's never hallucinated when drunk before, so that's new. Luckily it's a very nice hallucination. Stiles isn't gonna complain, not when there are red nails tracing teasing patterns on his thigh and equally red lips close to his ear.
"What do you think, stud?" the girl asks. It would probably have been a sultry whisper if the music in the frat house wasn't so loud. Nevertheless, even at normal volume the question sounds plenty suggestive.

Stiles giggles a little at being called 'stud'. His geeky hipster vibe does relatively well with the college girls, it serves him infinitely better than it did in highschool anyway. The girls at his old school snubbed their pretty little noses at his plaids and Converses. Here, there are girls who dress the same as him to such a degree that Stiles once grabbed the wrong flannel shirt the morning after. When he returned to switch out the shirt, only her roommate was home. Stiles isn't one to kiss and tell, yet he stayed for two hours instead of the necessary five minutes to make the shirt exchange, if you get what he means. Oh. And he totally told Scott. But Scott doesn't count. He tells his brother-from-another-mother everything.

It was actually kind of a coincidence that Stiles ended up at this party tonight. He didn't plan on it, was kind of trying to be a good person and go to bed early, so he wouldn't be totally knackered for his five hour drive back to Beacon Hills tomorrow for Christmas Break. He just happened to walk across campus when he bumped into one of his project partners and before he knew it, he had a red solo cup in his hand and was chatting up two girls who he thinks he saw in one of his morning classes once. He got to kiss one of them too, the one with the long blond hair and the fancy red nails across from him. She's not really his type, he'd actually been after her dark haired friend. But her friend already had a boyfriend and this girl, "Lindsay with an a", proved to be more fun than he initially thought. She kissed like she meant business, that was one thing. And when Stiles found her in another man's lap after he returned from the bathroom, she surprised him by calling him over.
"Stiles, you never told me you had such a hot roommate!" she tittered, wrapping a hand around his wrist to pull him down on the armrest of the slightly ratty loveseat. The leather - or more likely pleather - was sticky with unnamed liquids, not that Stiles really cared. He wasn't gonna judge someone's housekeeping skills at a party, or ever, really.

They'd been talking for about an hour before she kindly suggested a game of tonsil hockey, so the topic of Stiles 'hot roommate' hadn't come up yet. Not that he was in the habit of telling girls about Derek first hand; there was only so much competition that a guy like him could put up with. Because Derek was hot. Hot like burning. Supernaturally hot. Those Greek statues in the museum had nothing on him: Derek's rugged abs put their puny marble abs to shame.
Stiles took stock of the situation in front of him through his slightly alcohol addled mind. Lindsay was sitting comfortably in Derek's lap, one arm wrapped loosely around his shoulders, while he had an arm around her waist. "You guys know each other?" he asked, adding the 'intimately' in his head when he saw the way Derek's hand disappeared beneath the hem of her top.

"We do," Lindsay admitted with a smile. Derek just arched one cocky eyebrow, yet after almost four months of sharing a room with him, Stiles was close to fluent in eyebrow speak. He had to, because some days it was the only way his roommate communicated. At first, Stiles thought he'd gotten the short end of the stick when he was assigned Derek as his roommate. The guy may look hot, but he came across as a grumpy asshole, especially those first few weeks. Eventually, Stiles liked to say, he got Derek to cave to the Stilinski charm and they actually became quite good friends. Derek could be a cocky bastard, but he was also lowkey funny and a lot smarter than his jock looks suggested. The guy actually read Homer for fun, Stiles even checked if he wasn't reading it for class. To top it off, his snark game was on par with Stiles', which was something he didn't often encounter. In short, Derek was a great guy and there were a lot of girls at their campus who agreed with Stiles.
Lindsay confirmed his suspicions of them when she told him: "Our Derek here was looking for a repeat of our first meeting, but I said I already had plans with you." She playfully tapped him on the nose with a finger. "Isn't that right, Stiles?"
Their make out session had been getting a little steamy, until Stiles unfortunately had to take a little break to empty his bladder. Beer always ran right through him. He'd been ready to cut his losses when he saw Lindsay sitting with Derek, but the girl had other plans. "However, I thought that maybe you boys could share."