Stiles used to come over your house a lot when he was just best friends with your slightly older twin, Scott. Now that he was both your boyfriend and Scott's best friend, he practically lived at your house, staying there day and night and all the hours in between. It was a struggle to get him to go back to his own place, and he only went if you promised to go with him and spend the night. His dad had to see him eventually, right?
"Y/N! Stiles! You're gonna be late!" Your mom called, banging on the door of your bedroom and knowing full well that Stiles was snuggled up in your bed alongside you, just like he always was. Stiles only pulled you closer to his chest, arms wrapped around your waist and his nose nuzzling your neck. You opened your eyes, a smile already spreading across your lips as you felt his familiar hands tighten their grip on you. He whined softly, frowning into your skin.
"Can't we just skip today?" He muttered, refusing to let go of you, even when you tried to sit up. "We're seniors, who really cares? We deserve a day off. Especially us." You had to agree with him on that one; fighting the supernatural and saving the town on a consistent basis had to give you some sort of leverage, right? Sure, the entirety of Beacon Hills didn't really know about the supernatural happenings that occurred daily, but still.
"We stayed home Wednesday, remember? It's already Friday, Stiles," you reminded him, prying off his reluctant hands and sitting up to stretch. He groaned, hands reaching out of you again, though his eyes were shut protestingly.
You slipped out of bed, tugging open your curtains, eliciting another loud groan from the boy who had pulled a pillow over his head to block out the sunlight. You snatched the pillow back, throwing it into the far corner of the room.
"Ugh, the sunlight burns," he said, rubbing his eyes and scowling playfully at you. You simply rolled your eyes in response, opening up your closet and laying out your clothes for the day. He finally rolled out of bed, pushing the covers to the end of your bed. "Do I have to go home to get clothes or are the ones from last week here?"
"Mom washed 'em for you, they're in the back of my closet," you replied, stripping off your pajamas. You grabbed Stiles' shoulders and turned him around when you caught him admiring his view of you with a small smirk on his face.
"It's too early for your horniness, Stilinski. Get dressed." You found a pair of his jeans sitting in the spare drawer of your dresser, tossed them to him, and then went into your bathroom.
"I'm staying over again tonight," he informed you. "Apparently Melissa is home for the night, and Scott said that means we're watching movies all night, which means that I'm obligated to stay over again." He grinned at you, fixing his button up shirt in your bedroom mirror and running a hand through his already messed up hair. You walked over to him, giving him a quick kiss on the lips before straightening his shirt.
"You were probably going to wind up sleeping over anyway though, am I correct?" He shrugged.
"What can I say? I like waking up next to you."
Stiles tugged the textbook out of your grasp, placing it on top of his chair and sitting on it for good measure. You stood up to grab it back, but stopped, realizing where he had placed it. Could he be any more childish? He was so ridiculous sometimes. He understood that you wanted to study, you cared about your grades a lot more nowadays, but you had been glued to the stupid textbook since arriving back at your house two hours ago. More importantly, you had been ignoring Stiles for two hours, and he was bored out of his mind waiting for you to finish up your extra credit assignments.
"I have no problem getting that," you told him, folding your arms and standing him directly in front of him.
"Come and get it then," he challenged, a smirk on his face. You sat back down, sighing in defeat. You glared at him, and even though he knew you weren't really angry at him, he still felt kind of bad when you looked away, completely silent. "Babe? Hey, baby, talk to me," he poked the side of your stomach. "I'm sorry, I love you, I know you want to study, but you're getting stressed out. I can tell. You may think you're hiding it well, but I can tell, okay?"
