Sterek One Shots (boyxboy)

Sour Wolf and Sour Stiles

Sour Wolf and Sour Stiles by DorianWilde

Isaac felt his head fall back of its own accord. He shook it yawning, halfheartedly covering his mouth. Everyone had arrived at Scott's house except for one Stiles Stilinski, though Isaac could faintly hear the jeep's engine not too far away.

Derek, sitting across from Isaac by the kitchen table, was restlessly tapping his fingers against the table top. Scott was making everyone coffee, because Scott's an awesome person. Lydia was pouring over the Bestiary on her laptop while Allison googledon Scott's. Luckily Melissa had the night shift, because even though Scott was an eighteen year old alpha, she still fussed and worried as soon as they had to deal with some creepy crawly. She kinda fussed over Isaac as well, which he pretended was bothersome and embarrassing.

Everyone were surprisingly spry considering it was three in the morning, Lydia was even wearing perfectly applied makeup. Allison had woken Isaac and Scott by calling Isaac around two, Scott quickly calling Stiles and Derek while Isaac called Lydia.

Apparently leprechauns were a thing. That existed. In Beacon Hills. Of course they did. Allison had been out patrolling the forest, as you do, when she'd encountered them.

Outside, Stiles killed the engine and, dragging his feet, made his way to the front door, unlocking it.

"Morning," he rasped as he shuffled into the kitchen, eyes thinner than Brock's in Pokemon. He took a deep breath, making a pleased noise. "Thank you merciful god in heaven. Scott, I need that coffee like the Doctor needs his screwdriver." Without opening his eyes he accepted the cup Scott handed him and made his way towards the fridge to pour some milk in it. "Why'd you guys lock the door? Not like you didn't know I was coming as you kindly woke me up before even the crack of dawn."

"Leprechauns," Isaac and Allison said at the same time.

"I know I'm short, guys, and yeah I look a bit pale and Irish... and probably green due to sleep deprivation, but that's just mean," Stiles sulked.

"Why are you wearing an Avengers one-piece?" Derek asked, scowling. Isaac had, admittedly, been wondering the same thing. The amount of scowling going on wasn't in proportion to the offensiveness of the one-piece though.

"It's cold and unforgiving outside. Like your personality," Stiles sassed, hugging himself with his free arm, hunching his shoulders. His hair was standing up in all directions and he still hadn't opened his eyes properly, squinting sulkily at them. "Not like you guys'd notice. Fucking furnaces," he muttered, glaring at the three werewolves. He stomped off, looking like the world had personally offended him.

"Right," Scott breathed, snickering silently. They each poured themselves a cup, following Stiles into the living room. Isaac brushed Allison's hand getting a small smile in return. Almost two years together and she still made him feel jittery.

Stiles was asleep, curled up a fetal position with his back against them, his rumpled hair the only thing visible where it was sticking up from beneath the blanket. He'd thrown the one-piece on the floor together with his socks. Isaac guessed/hoped he'd been wearing something underneath it or things were about to get Awkward.

"Oh for god's sake," Derek snapped, pushing Stiles off the couch. Stiles, being Stiles, landed in a pile of flailing limbs, his hand hitting the couch with a painful sounding noise making Isaac wince.

"Fucking mature, sour wolf," Stiles snarled, crawling back up on the couch, snatching the blanked off the floor. "Can we get this over with?" he grouched as everyone sat down. Isaac and Scott on the other end of the couch, and Allison and Lydia in the armchairs. Which left Derek with the seat next to Stiles. Well, almost, as he scooted as far away as possible leaving a good three feet separating them.