Stiles yawned as he shuffled pitifully out of his room. He stumbled; his bare feet got tangled in the blue and white plaid legs of his pajama pants that were a little too large. They sat low on his hips. He hadn't tied them because no one in the morning had the energy for such intricate details. He struggled to find the head and arm holes in the sleeveless blue t-shirt he was failing to put on. With his mind occupied by the Rubik's Cube of a shirt he walked straight past the stairs while unable to see and slammed boldly into the wall.
"Owie," he mumbled to himself. His head popped free of his shirt along with one arm. He was pretty sure that the shirt was on backwards. His pants may have been inside out in addition to being untied, but those were also details that were irrelevant without coffee. There were things in the world that just didn't matter until he had some warm caffeine coursing through his bloodstream.
He could smell it in the air, a sweet French vanilla aroma that called to him. It whispered sweet nothings that had him hooked like a fish, only without the unnecessary and cruel pain, because there was no pain, there was only deep longing. Longing to let the heat and aroma rise out of the mug and caress his face. He finally unraveled the enigma that was his shirt. He got his other arm out the way it was supposed to but not without missing the last step and stumbling. He slammed into a marble statue.
"Hey watch it Stilinksi!" The statue turned out to be Jackson.
"M'sorry." Stiles apologized. He rubbed at his eyes as he swayed back and forth.
"You ok man?" Jackson asked.
Jackson was giving him emotional whiplash. One moment the blonde was threatening him, the next he was trying to comfort him. Stiles wobbled unsteadily as Jackson wrapped one of his arms around his shoulders and guided him toward the kitchen. Without coffee he could not fight the good fight against the invasion of his personal space. He just accepted for the moment that everyone in the house wanted to rub on each other.
"Scott and I are getting ready to go for a morning run, you should come with." Jackson deposited him at a stool at the breakfast island. Stiles only barely grunted as his neck, which lacked the ability to support his head any longer, gave out and he face planted onto the marble counter top.
"Double owie" he lamented to the cool blue marble.
"Is that going to be ok?" Lydia asked.
Stiles had no idea what the 'that' she was referring to was. He hoped that it wasn't something that would drink all his coffee, if that happened, he'd probably cry. It'd be an ugly cry too, there'd be sobbing, wet rattling heaving and he'd need more tissues than they had in the house.
"He'll be fine; he's not a mornings kind of guy." Scott explained.
Stiles was confused. His friend must have teleported in from nowhere. That was the only explanation that Stiles could come up with. One moment there was no Scott, the next there was Scott. It was just like magic, only with puppies instead of rabbits or doves.
"I'll get him some coffee," Allison said. Just like that she became his new best friend, Scott be damned.
"Let's go McCall; I can't wait to leave you in the dust," Jackson called out.
"You wish! You make it seem like you'll even be able to see me when I'm finished," Scott called back.
"Stop flirting!" Stiles mumbled into the countertop.
"What?" the two young werewolves said in unison.
"Here you go Stiles you want any cream or milk?" Allison asked. She reached out and rubbed her hand over his short hair comfortingly.
"Imma have yer babies," he told her seriously. The dark haired girl giggled as she added a dash of milk to the coffee and set the mug a hair away from his nose. "All yer babies," he confirmed.
"No way buddy she's taken," Scott said. He punched Stiles lightly in the arm as he dropped a huge bowl of cereal next to the cup of coffee. It was full of Lucky Charms, the milk in it was chocolate milk, and the spoon was a big spoon, a really big spoon. Scott was back on top for best friend, too bad for Allison but Lucky Charms were the business of delicious.
"Imma have yer babies too… or litter… or whatever," Stiles mumbled. Scott blinked at him as though he was speaking a foreign language but Allison just laughed delightedly. Scott punched him again.
"Whatever dude," Scott said as he looked at something behind Stiles, it was probably his brofriend. "Let's go, Jackson."
"Been ready, McCall. You and Stilinski done?" Jackson said.
"Don't be jealous," Lydia said as she peered into Stiles's bowl of deliciousness dubiously. Apparently she had noticed the same thing Stiles had in regards to the browolves. "Ready to go, Allison? I want to hit the strip and get a new bikini for this afternoon."
Stiles didn't say anything but he raised an eyebrow at Lydia brushing her hand over Allison's back. The girls were doing it to each other too. The world was an insane place.
"Ready!" Allison said. She kissed Scott on the cheek, patted Stiles on the back, then slapped Jackson playfully on the arm. "Don't get him too riled up!"
"You wouldn't like him when he's angry," Stiles supplied helpfully. He was starting to feel alive again. He lifted his head from the countertop and took a deep breath from directly over the mug of coffee. "So good," he mumbled. He put a huge spoonful of the cereal in his mouth, moaned at the pure heaven of it.
Lydia blinked at him for a moment before turning away. She gave Jackson a professional and sort of forced looking hug then headed out of the front door with Allison in her wake. Stiles watched Scott and Jackson pile out onto the back porch then jog off down the ramp that led to the beach below. They were already jostling each other as they went with elbows and shoves.
Just like that Stiles was alone in the house. He hadn't seen Derek since he had tried to wake him up earlier. He shrugged, greedily consumed his Lucky Charms and sipped at the coffee. Everyone would be back soon enough, he'd just take a shower and then they could get started having some real fun as a group. He had planned so many activities; he was going to blow the pack's collective mind.
He quickly finished off the cereal but took his time savoring the flavor of the chocolate milk that was left in the bowl. He rinsed out the bowl and dropped it, as well as the spoon in the dishwasher, grabbed his cup of coffee and headed back up the stairs. The warmth of the mug felt good in his hands. He placed it against his face for a few seconds as he walked down the hall and into the room he was sharing with Derek.
The Alpha's bed was neatly made; nothing of his was visible in the room save his suitcase leaning against the wall. Stiles glanced at his side of the room and couldn't help but notice the remarkable differences. The picture of his mother along with his charging cell phone rested on the nightstand. He set his cup of coffee down next to his phone. He glanced at his discarded clothes which were still in a pile on the floor. The bed was a disaster of tossed around sheets and blankets, one of the pillows looked about to fall off the far side of the bed.
He shrugged and went over to retrieve his bathroom bag from his suitcase. Deodorant check, toothbrush check, toothpaste check, shampoo check, body wash check, shower puff thing he had no idea the official name for check, mouthwash check, floss check. Looks like it had everything he needed. He opened the top drawer of the dresser that had his clothes in it and grabbed a pair of boxers at random.
He hadn't been in the bathroom that was attached to the bedroom yet. He'd only used the one that was downstairs so he was looking forward to finding out what kind of shower or bathtub was in it. He walked in and set his stuff down on the counter, it had a side by side sink and the room was huge enough that two people could easily maneuver around each other. Everything was white and beige, a few dark brown accents here and there. He pulled his shirt over his head as he walked towards the elaborate steam shower that occupied the far wall.
He dropped the shirt onto the ground and pulled the sliding glass door open. Inside was the most amazing contraption he'd ever seen. It had three shower heads, one on each of the opposing walls as well as a large rain simulating one in the middle of the ceiling. It looked like it could easily accommodate two if not three people. He wondered idly if anyone ever held shower parties. That could be fun. He noticed there were plenty of towels on a rack above the toilet and that there was one stretched out over a bar placed in the wall near the shower.
He turned all the faucets on and let the water get steamy before he turned on all the shower heads. He was looking forward to pampering himself. He walked back to the sink and unpacked his supplies on the side that was not occupied, the one closest to the door. The only things on the other were a red handled toothbrush, a tube of the same type of toothpaste that he used, and a bottle of mouthwash that was a light blue in color. He wondered what it smelled like. He didn't want to be a creeper and start poking around in the medicine cabinet and inspecting Derek's stuff.
He brushed his teeth, flossed, and used his mouthwash. With his mouth feeling minty fresh, and longing for the heat that was pouring out of the steam shower he shimmied out of his pants and underwear, grabbed his shower stuff and entered the closest thing on earth to heaven.
Hot water poured over him. He sighed in contentment. He placed his shampoo and body wash in the empty rack under the right side shower head. He adjusted the sprays of both the side nozzles and then went and stood looking up into the middle one on the ceiling, eyes closed and mouth hanging slightly open. He ran his hands aimlessly over his body feeling the heat spreading through him. He let his head lull forward and placed his hands on the wall in front of him, his back to the shower's sliding doors.
"God this is good," he commented to himself. He let the water sweep over him for a few minutes before he retrieved his shampoo and gave his hair a thorough washing, shaking his head in the hot torrent of the right nozzle, the left one's spray hitting his lower back and legs.
Lazily he grabbed his shower scrubby and poured a generous amount of the body wash onto it. He rubbed and squeezed it in his hands until it started to put up a foamy lather. He brought it to his chest and sighed happily at the soft material's drag against his skin. He ran it up his neck and over both shoulders, squeezing it slightly and feeling the soapy water drip down his back. He brought it back and swiped it across his chest; the material caught lightly on one of his nipples. He gasped softly and shivered at the sensation.
Stiles hadn't been planning to pamper himself so much but he was starting to get a little hard and the steam and heat all over his body locked him in a full body tingle of pleasure. He dragged the material back across his other nipple, lightly biting his lower lip at the feeling of it. He added more wash to the material in his hands before running it over his stomach and into the light dusting of hair at his crotch.
He backed up so that he was under the middle spray, legs spread in a wider stance as he leaned back against the wall of the shower. The lightly cool tile sent shivers down his spine. He ran his hand holding the scrubby over his groin and hissed out a satisfied breath. He was definitely interested in pampering himself now that he was at full attention. He switched the scrubber to his left hand, brought it back up and rubbed his stomach with it. He gripped himself with his free hand, pulled and twisted a bit to send pleasure coursing through his body.
He breathed out a little sound of bliss as he ran the material in his left hand over his nipples. He opened his eyes and panted into the heat cloying around him, looked down at the flushed red skin of his cock. He dropped the scrubby and ran his left hand back down over his stomach then gripped himself at the base. With his right hand he twisted and pulled again, ran his fingertips lightly over the head and teased the sensitive skin that flared out at the base of the tip.
His hips jerked forward instinctively as he tightened his grip around the head again before sliding down to the base in a smooth grip. He gasped, his lungs felt like they were full of steam, water cascading on him from three angles. He leaned forward and felt the heat slide down his back and over his ass.
Stiles let his left hand dip a little further, caressed his balls as he continued pumping with his right. His toes were curled a bit; he rocked back and forth in place. New heat, wonderful searing aching heat pooled in his belly. He turned around slowly, not losing the rhythm his hands were creating on his body, leaned his forehead against the wall.
The cool tile was a comfort against his flushed skin. He was shaking with the pleasure spiking through his body. He panted, ran his tongue over his lips. He whispered things to himself, babbled about how good it felt, how hard he was, he wasn't sure why but it was just something he did, gasped and moaned and was loud about expressing how he felt even though there had never been anyone to hear him.
Tremors of pleasure rocked his body. He went up on tiptoes, biting his lips lightly again, they felt slightly swollen. He twisted and pulled himself with renewed purpose, needing to hit that critical moment that would leave him breathless. He gasped as he came up on the edge and tumbled over. His legs shook with the force of his pleasure, he painted the wall as the tension in his body released. He gasped and felt boneless, cheek against the wall of the shower.
"So good," he mumbled to himself. He lazily stroked a few more tingling moments of pleasure out of the experience. He was breathing heavily, felt like he'd just run several miles. Lassitude spread through his muscles. He relaxed into the feeling.
After a few more moments of light touches he stood up straight, retrieved his shower scrubby and added more wash to it. He kind of had to start over a little to make sure he was clean but he didn't mind. There were some things he didn't mind taking a bit of extra time on. He'd be lucky if he made it out of the shower before lunch time.