spark

Chapter 0 : Summer in Peru

Stiles let out a groan, walking through the doors of the establishment. Taking a seat at the bar, he laid his head on the countertop, his sweat dripping from his chocolate locks onto the wooden surface. Resting his backpack on the floor by his stool, Stiles tried and failed to pick his head up off the countertop. "Water, please." Stiles requested through his exhaustion.

"Sure thing, you look like you need it." the bartender said, filling the glass and placing it on the counter next to Stiles' head, letting the glass touch his forehead. "How long have you been out there?"

"I ran out of drinkable water two hours ago, and I set out from the last town before the sun rose, you do the math." Stiles hissed, finding the strength to get his head off the countertop and have his left hand support his chin, Stiles' right grabbing the water and chugging it quickly as he practically slammed it back down on the counter. "More, please."

"Sure thing, want anything else while I'm at it?" the bartender inquired, causing Stiles to look around to try and find a menu.

"Just a beer would be nice." Stiles answered, taking the new glass of water from the bartender. Stiles didn't have to be a fool to notice how handsome the bartender was, even with his dirty blond roots hiding under the sun-bleached locks that were combed towards his right ear. A peculiar birthmark rested on his left eyebrow, looking like a spider bit into his face when he was a child. "So, what brings someone from—I'm gonna guess from the East Coast—to Peru. I haven't run into a lot of American people that are residents of Peru."

The bartender was a little surprised, if the face he made couldn't be more obvious. "Wow, that's pretty accurate. Uh, nothing really brought me here, I've just been wandering, living the life of a nomad. Haven't really found what I wanna do with my life just yet." he says, resting his palms on the countertop. "Where are you from, what brings you to Peru?"

"California, originally, but I spent a lot of time in Quantico during my adult life." Stiles replied, accepting the beer from the man and taking a swig of it. "And, you can say you and I got something else in common. I've been living the nomad life for the last couple of years, wanted to find my purpose in life. I-uh-I worked at the FBI, there was a mass casualty event, and I couldn't save as many people as I wished I could've. I struggled a bit after that, couldn't really find the motivation to return to the Bureau. So I resigned, sold all my stuff, and have been backpacking across North and South America since then."

Sue Stiles if he didn't tell the hot bartender that he was also searching for supernatural ruins and relaying any information about them to Argent.

"Wow, and here I thought having negligent parents was a good excuse." the bartender says, blinking rapidly as he suddenly held his hand out to Stiles. "Evan Buckley, I'm from Pennsylvania."

Taking his hand in his own, Stiles shook it firmly. "Stiles Stilinski."

"Okay, there is no way your first name is Stiles." Evan laughs, crossing his arms.

"True, but my name is hard for other people to pronounce. My very Polish mother gave it to me, but my dad gave me that nickname because that's what my grandpa used when he served in the military." he states, drinking more of his beer.

"Then what's the name on your birth certificate, you got me curious now." Evan badgers, a cocky smile on his face.

"Slow down, cowboy, you gotta buy me dinner first. People don't get my name until the third date." Stiles teased, taking pride in the blush that spread across Evan's face.

"I-I, um, I'm flattered, really, and I think you're pretty handsome, but I don't swing that way." Evan stammers, scratching at the back of his neck while biting his bottom lip. "I'm an ally though! I put a rainbow flag on my instagram every June, and I've known plenty of people from the community."