Sterek // One-Shots

into something new

Author:        marguerite_26
                             Ao3

Additional Tags:Alpha/Beta/Omega DynamicsAlpha/OmegaKnottingMatingMating Cycles/In HeatAlternate Universe - CanonCreeper PeterManipulative PeterImplied MpregAttempted Sexual AssaultMildly Dubious ConsentHeat influenced decision making

Word's: 8924
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Summary;

Something is happening to Stiles. He’s losing time. Something is messing with his head, with his body. Maybe if he felt better he’d think to be worried.
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"Dude," Scott says, his voice tinny and way too loud for a morning wake-up call. "Where were you?"

"Fuck off, Scott." Stiles groans and hits end call. The time glares back at him from his phone. He's got ten minutes to get to school and zero time to feel guilty for hanging up on his best bud.

He pulls himself out of bed, grunting at the ache of his every muscle, and he collapses back down again as the room swims. Holding his head in his hands, he tries to come to terms with the absolute hell his body's going through. He hasn't felt this bad since the whiskey-in-the-woods incident in sophomore year. His stomach lurches as he tries to stand again and he grabs for the last mouthful of coke in the bottle by his bed. It's stale and too sweet but it's wet and miraculously settles his nausea.

"Ugh, I don't have time for this shit," he says to no one.

He swipes his -- unfinished, fuck -- chem homework off his desk and into his bag, finds some clothes in a wrinkled pile on the floor and runs out of the house. He hopes he has a pack of gum in his locker because that's as close to personal hygiene as he's getting today.

He spends the ride to school wondering what the hell he'd done last night that wasn't his homework.

"Derek was yelling at Allison. She wasn't taking any of his 'I'm the Alpha' shit, and once they both started, everyone was screaming."

Scott's been talking for a bit now, still harping on some plans they had last night. He's not showing signs of stopping and Stiles' headache is about the size of the Harris' ego -- fucking enormous -- and each word he has to listen to feels like a kick to the balls.

"Isaac took Derek's side, which didn't go over well. And Lydia refused to come because Peter was supposed to be there -- and that asshole didn't even show up."

Stiles flings open his locker, not caring that it hits Scott in the elbow. At least it made the rambling stop. "Whoever controls the temperature in Beacon Hills High must be wearing shorts today; it's a goddamn sauna in here." Stiles peels off his flannel shirt, balls it and tosses it in the bottom of his locker before turning back to Scott. "I don't even know what you're talking about."

"How can you not --" Scott's voice does that frustrated cracky thing as he shakes his head. "You were suppose to be there! I waited for you for an hour."

"Oh!" Stiles forces his eyes comically wide, laying on the sarcasm thick. "An hour! Scott. Wow. How will you ever forgive me?"

"Dude, what the hell is your problem today? You know we've been trying for weeks to get everyone together to start sharing info."

It sounds familiar, and Stiles has a vague pang of guilt that he's forgetting something that was important to him. But his t-shirt is already sticky with sweat and his patience with this conversation has worn thin. "Whatever. Just tell me when you need me to be there next time and I'll be there."