Tequila

Stiles POV

I was finally cool enough to go back inside, because it was like a sauna in there with all those werewolves and I was ready for another drink.

"Let's get a refill, Alli," I said while pulling her inside again, where the rest was hanging out in the living room. On our way back inside, the walls suddenly get too close and I bump into one of them, hurting my left arm.

"Stiles, are you sure you haven't had enough?" Alli's voice sounds.

I laugh at her blurry face and put my glass on the drink table.

"No, I know my limit of wine. You know that wine is one of the few alco-co-co-holic drinks that doesn't get me drunk?"

"Stiles, you have been drinking tequila."

In my head I heard Brittany Spears sing: Oh baby baby, how was I supposed to know? pom-pom-pom that something wasn't right here pom-pom-pom.

I poured myself another shot of tequila and emptied the last bit in my glass.

Wait, what did she say?

Another glass of… wait.

"What?" I asked Allison, who now looked a bit worried at me with her big doe eyes.

"You aren't drinking wine, Stiles, you are drinking tequila," Allison said, talking excruciatingly slow.

"Well, fuck. Why don't you join me then?" I suggested.

"Okay, if you promise that this is your last glass," Allison said, sounding strict for some reason.

"Promise," I said, looking deep into her eyes, moving forward only the slightest and then turning my eyes to the living room.

"Good, cheers!" she smiled and clinked her glass to mine.

"So what is your view on taxono-nomy, Alli?"

"That's a deep question for a Friday night, but alright, I'll play your game, I think…"

My eyes moved over everyone in the room. A movie with supernatural creatures was on, but only a few were actually watching. Danny and Ethan were sitting cosy together in a one-persons chair. Erica and Boyd were lying on top of the small couch and on top of each other, but also watching the movie between kisses. Jackson was talking with Isaac and Isaac's new girlfriend Zoe Crenshaw, a southern beauty from another pack that was now near New York. Scott was talking to Aiden and Lydia who sat on another huge couch next to Derek.

My eyes were glued to Derek's eyebrows. Not only now, but I'd always been fascinated by them. Every time Derek listened to a conversation, his eyebrows moved in such a cool way that I tried to move them like he did, but many times I had failed to do so. Still I couldn't exactly understand why I was so interested in his stupid pretty eyebrows, because…

A warm hand closed around my wrist and I looked at the owner of the hand, who turned out to be Allison.

"Stiles, why are you staring at Derek?"

I heard a few people moving on the couches so they could look at me, but I wasn't actually registering that they all became silent.

"I like the hairs that form his eyebrows, his eyebrowhairs? They look interesting. Don't you think they look interesting?" I asked Alli.

I could hear someone facepalm himself and if I had to guess, it was Scott.

"Uhmm," Allison stuttered.

"See this is why you don't have a boyfriend," Lydia said, moving her perfect strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder.

But her perfect strawberry blonde hair didn't interest me anymore. Not since Derek's eyebrows or his eyes or even lips for that matter. But what if I could touch them, maybe then I could understand how he moved them, and I could do the same… Wait, would that be classified as stupid? I didn't know anymore, but it might be nice if I warned them about it, right? Determined I downed the last bit of stuff that was in my glass and put it on the table.

"Stand back dear, I'm going to do something really stupid," I said, kissing Alli's cheek for about five seconds too long.

I walk over to the huge couch, where Mr. Eyebrow McSourwolf was staring at me with a hint of alarm. On my way to the Eyebrow man I nearly tripped over Jacksons feet, which I ignored completely and plump down on Derek's lap.

His lap was nice, warm and hard at the same time, but soft enough to sit on. But maybe that was because it was Derek, or wasn't it?

"You're not getting close to a shot of tequila again. Ever," Derek grumbled after launching me off of his lap, between him and Lydia.

"But why? You are cute," I asked Derek while pressing my finger to his cheek and letting my head fall against his shoulder.

No POV

"Well?" Stiles asked when Derek didn't respond.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Zoe asked Derek.

This caused the rest to laugh until Derek quickly replied, "Oh no, he is not my boyfriend."

"He's awfully friendly for a non-boyfriend," she noticed grinning.

"Yes-" Derek started.

"Did you know that this is considered torture in some cultures?" Stiles suddenly asked.

"How so?" Derek asked, looking at the intoxicated Stiles that used his shoulder as a pillow.

"Being so close and not kissing," Stiles clarified.

"Urgh, we can hear you guys, you know!" Jackson stated loudly.

"You have got to get better insults, Jackson. This one is a little lame-o!"

"It wasn't even an insult!" Jackson replied with disbelief.

Derek turned to Stiles and said, "Stiles, you are drunk and your blood reeks of alcohol. And tomorrow you are going to be really hungover and be cranky all day."

"If we marry each other, we will solve both of those problems."

"What." Derek said more than he asked.

"You still don't know about the question mark, Der? That's kind of sad, you know."

"Come on, I'll get you to bed," Derek said, rolling his eyes at the inebriated boy he now threw over his shoulder.

"Will you show me the eyebrow thingy?"

"Sure."

"Yay!" a vague cheering hand motion followed Stiles' words.

Derek amusedly rolled his eyes while he made sure the name tattoo that appeared on his wrist two years ago was still covered. He would have to choose another moment to tell Stiles that he is Derek's mate. When Derek put the already sleepy Stiles softly on his bed and placed the covers over him softly, he inhaled, hoping to smell his mate's scent. But instead he smelled the stupid tequila, messing up Stiles' scent completely. Still, Derek knew that there was no chance he was never going to get over the quirky, unable-to-sit-still, smart and attractive boy in his bed. No chance in hell.

Hi guys,

Just a little plotless Sterek, but I hope cute nonetheless. Let me know what you guys think, because I currently have a high fever and love to take my mind off being ill.

Greetings,

Aimee