Teen wolf one-shots

Study Break (Stiles Stilinski)

It seemed as if everything was going wrong for you; the stress of school and assignments stacking up and the weather turning horrible - that muggy heat that bores down on you, drenching you in sweat, and making every movement lethargic and exhausting.

Stiles, your best friend (and maybe something more although neither of you dare to admit it), had offered to help you with your assignments, but your stubbornness made you refused; you had to do this yourself. But you had agreed to study together after school.

Stiles drove you back to his place, the air conditioning in his Jeep a relaxing break from the humidity and heat of the world outside. The engine rumbles and splutters, but you know better than to make a joke about it breaking down. Besides, the last thing you want right now is to be sitting on the side of the road in a broken-down Jeep with no air conditioning. That is not what you need right now.

Thankfully, the old Jeep made it back to his place. You climb out, wincing as the heat hit you full force. You grab your bag and make your way inside.

"I'll turn on the AC and it should cool the house down in a minute or two," Stiles says as he drops his bag by the entrance and slams the door shut on the blazing heat. "There's popsicles in the freezer and chilled drinks in the fridge, help yourself."

"Do you want anything?" you ask as you make your way into the kitchen.

"I'll take anything," he calls after you.

You pull open the fridge, breathing out a sigh of relief as the cool air rolls over your skin, prickling your arms, chilling the beads of sweat that cling to your flesh and sending a chill up your spine. God, that is a good sensation on a day like this.

You pull out two cans of soda, setting them aside on the counter before searching through the cupboard for a packet of Doritos - Stiles' favourite. You're the only person he's ever shared his food with, a gesture you can't help but smile at when you think about it.

You pick up everything and carry it out to the dining table, setting it down and pulling out your books. Stiles digs through his bag, muttering something under his breath as he tried to work through his thoughts of what books he needed and what he had to work on first.

Your eyes wonder to his tight jeans, the thick denim hugging the curves of his ass as he bends over, and you can't help but admire it. You gnaw at your lip, pulling your eyes away before he straightens his back and sees where your eyes lingered.

Finally organising himself, Stiles picked up all his books and set them down at the table. He sits down across from you and you begin to do your work, sitting in peaceful quiet and enjoying the presence of one another. The only times you talk is when you need to as each other a question or when his foot 'accidentally' bumps yours under the table, at which point he glances up though his long lashes and whispers, "Sorry."

You stay like that for hours, writing essays, checking notes, revising your assignments and driving yourself mad with the thoughts of everything you still have left to do.

The next thing you know, the sound of rain wakes you. The drumming of heavy droplets crashing against the glass of the window brings a sweet relief to you; it's the most relaxing sound during a sweltering summer.

You peel your eyes open and find yourself in Stiles' lounge room, laid back on the couch and watching the moonlight-glittering streams of rain trickle down the window.

You feel a warm weight around you and glance down to see a pair of mole-speckled arms wrapped comfortingly around you. Startled, you turn around, wide eyes falling on Stiles' face as he woke with a start.

"What?" he stammers. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you whisper, momentarily losing yourself in the glittering amber depths of his eyes.

His cheeks dip into dimples as a sweet smile lifts the corners of his mouth.

You return the smile and apologetically say, "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"You work yourself too hard," Stiles replies, gently brushing aside a tousled lock of your hair. "You need a break."

"I need to study," you argue.

"No," Stiles says softly, his voice fluttering in your chest as he looks at you. "We've done enough studying for one night."

His arms gently tug at your shoulders and you feel yourself fall against his chest. You let out a sigh of relief and relax into his hold. Your head rests against his chest and you can hear his steady heartbeat.

Fatigue wears at your vision, your heavy eyes falling shut as you settled back into the comfort of his embrace.

Studying can wait, this is better.