AN: Old fic I'm reposting as I get back into the site. A simple Scott/Stiles ficlet written for knotateenwolfblog ( ). The prompt was to write a scene in which Scott and Stiles share clothes. I'm a hardcore bromance!Sciles shipper, as I'm sort of biased towards brotherhood storylines, but I in no way criticize what people like and/or prefer when it comes to this ship. I hope this pleases any Sciles shippers, whether they're hardcore bromance or hardcore romance. I do not own the characters.
The sound of a buzzing alarm clock makes Stiles jerk from sleep and shield his eyes from the blinding sunlight pouring in through the slit blinds. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and it takes a moment for him to figure out where he is.
It then takes him another minute or so to realize that he's laying on the floor. He wipes the little bit of drool from his chin, stands and stretches, reading the clock through squinted eyes. 6:00 AM. First period is in about an hour or so.
Scott's asleep on his bed, a worn copy of The Catcher in the Rye at his side.
"Scotty, get up, we're gonna be late." Stiles taps Scott's foot and heads towards the bathroom. He turns on the faucet and runs some hot water on his face, then runs his hands through his hair a good two times. After taking care of his personalized Stilinski routine, he smells his shirt. God, that's awful.
It must've been from last night at the field. After the night at the motel, Stiles, Lydia, and Allison figured that it'd be best to give the boys a chance to catch their breath, to settle back in to a wolfsbane-free environment for the time being. A nice game of lacrosse (team werewolf against team human) turned into a rambunctious night, only for Stiles to drive Scott home and eventually crash there.
Scott enters the bathroom just as Stiles finishes brushing his teeth.
"Dude, is that you?" Scott asks through a chuckle. Stiles scoffs.
"Shut up," he says, "your mom wash any towels and cloths?"
"Yeah," Scott says, "they're in the hall closet. But I call dibs on the shower first." There are only two showers in the McCall house - one in Scott's room, the other in Ms. McCall's room. After the night that she threatened Stiles with a bat - purely out of self-defense and the fear that Stiles was some sadistic intruder - Stiles made up in his mind that it'd be best to stay out of her personal space.
As the shower's going, Stiles tries to wrack his brain of anything worth remembering. His stuff is at his house, so he'd ride around there before school. He has his phone. Everything seems to be in order. Then he realizes. Dammit. I don't have any clean clothes.
"Hey Scotty," Stiles says, "you got anything I can borrow?" He opens the closet and takes in Scott's very little variety of clothing. Scott's voice rings out in the bathroom.
"Yeah, choose anything you want."
"Really?" Stiles asks, "You weren't gonna wear something specific today? I mean, there's not much specificity in here, but you know, it could be one of those mornings where you just feel like changing it up a bit, I don't know, maybe — "
"Stop rambling, Stiles," Scott laughs. The shower cuts off and Scott steps out in a towel, wiping the fog off the mirror, running his fingers through his hair. "We're brothers, remember? Why shouldn't we be able to share clothes?"
He remembered, Stiles notices, a smile running across his face. He feels happy in this known fact, shifting through the clothes and choosing a style that's signature Scott but also "b-side" Stiles.
Stiles emerges from the bathroom, freshly washed. One of Scott's old outfits is thrown over the desk chair - denim jeans and a plaid button-down. Stiles hasn't seen Scott wear the plaid in a while.
"Don't worry," Stiles says, "you'll have it back after I get home in my own clothes, 'kay?" Scott, dressed and ready to go, pats Stiles on the back.
"I told you, forget about it," he says, "what are brothers for if sharing clothes isn't one of the perks?"