"Is this… Is this… Hey, hey Elizabeth is this my house?" Elizabeth sighed as she struggled with the keys she had previously taken from him. Stiles felt slightly guilty as he hung onto her shoulder limply. Add leaning a little too far in each direction, a few misplaced giggles and of course some slurred language and you have the perfect costume as a drunken teen. It also helps if some actual drunken teenage girl spilled her drink on you.
"Yes Stiles, this is your house. You're lucky your dad isn't home."
Once the door was opened (and then closed once again) Stiles inconspicuously started 'attempting' to walk in the direction of his bedroom. "OH! Wanna see my room?!" He mentally cursed that he had not even thought about straightening up that "pigsty" as his father had called it… He would have had he known that some girl would be coming home with him.
She giggled softly as he tumbled onto his mattress. "I'm already in your room. It's very nice."
Elizabeth went home with him. Well, she took him home technically. He seriously doubted that would be the case if he had attempted to 'pick her up'. The actuality of the situation was that his neighbor saw him drop his keys and then smelled the beer on his shirt. She assumed he was drunk and ushered him to her car…
"Sit up and let me take off your jacket, okay?" Elizabeth started to ease off his hoodie and then she moved onto his shoes. It was in that moment that Stiles knew he was a terrible person for doing this. She was just trying to be a good neighbor… He was actually betting it was more for his father's benefit. They were pretty close, especially when her father passed away. She brought homemade cookies on a pretty regular basis, they talked in the grocery store and whenever they saw each other in passing. It was a ridiculous and normally fleeting thought, but he couldn't help but notice his father usually seemed pretty content while talking to her and always so stressed as soon as he walking through his front door.
"Elizabeth…." He let his voice sound a little too sober… To make up for the mistake he gently placed the palms of his hands onto her cheeks, "You're s-super pretty…" It was not a lie. She was not Lydia Martin pretty. That sounded bad. What he meant was that she was equally as pretty but in a different way, Lydia was confident and stylish; she was hot and the type of girl you wanted because you were supposed to. Elizabeth was literally the girl next door in his case. Her beauty came much more subtly, she seemed much less aware she was attractive.
Elizabeth smiled softly at him, "Thanks, you're very pretty too."
"Can, can I kiss you?"
"That wouldn't be very nice of me to take advantage of you like that. Plus what would Lydia think?" Perhaps he was exaggerating, but there seemed to be a drop of venom in Elizabeth's voice, "This would be a better conversation to tackle when you're sober."
What would Lydia think? Probably nothing at all… about him at least. Stiles's resolve finally broke and he said the three words he never thought he would say to her: "I'm not drunk."
"What? You're not drunk?" Elizabeth was having a hard time wrapping her head around what he was saying. It would be easy to chalk the sentence up to a drunken guy trying to get some action, but as soon as the words left his lips he straightened himself up and avoided looking her in the eye. "Well then… why did you let me drive you home? Wait…. Why the hell did you let me take off your shoes?!"
"Technically you kind of offered to do all that stuff. I didn't want to be rude so…."
"So let me get this straight…. You're not drunk and you were pretending to be so… you could sleep with me?"
"Well, I guess if you want to look at it like that you could, but honestly I kinda didn't think it would go that far you know? I just assumed you would drop me off and that would be that so… That's not to say I wouldn't want to-" Stiles was confused, but needless to say pleasantly surprised. For the first time that night he must've said something right, because in a matter of moments Elizabeth's lips were moving against his. His eyes were wide at first, this was the exact opposite of what he was expecting. He expected something to be done to his face, but he would have thought it would have been more on the lines of her hand coming into contact with his cheek in a forceful and swift motion.
He had not been completely opposed to keeping his eyes open a little longer to savor the moment, but the heaviness of his eyelids won and they fluttered shut without any opposition. Whether it was the nervousness that came with the lack of experience or if he was still in shock that this was finally happening, it took Stiles a short inner pep talk to move his hand onto her knee.
Elizabeth broke their kiss, but still kept her lips close enough that if she were to move forward a centimeter there would be contact again. She grabbed hold of his wrist. Stiles's ego was immediately deflated as he waited for her to storm off. He unwilling inhaled a sharp intake of air when she did remove his hand, but quickly made up for it by straddling his waist and replacing his hand and slowly sliding it up until his fingertips were under the soft material of her short black skirt. "Is this okay?"
"Oh god yes…" This time it didn't take Stiles too much longer to react. Perhaps it was his ADHD kicking in, because he was having a hard time keeping still. His lips had already found hers and while one hand squeezed her thigh gently the other found its way to her lower back where he snaked it underneath the hem of her blouse.
Once the dainty article was lifted over her head Stiles's mind and hands went into overdrive, leaving most of the night in a blurry haze of pleasure. He was about five hundred percent sure that he would be able to recall all of the details at a later date with an amazing accuracy, but at the moment the only thing he could focus on was her hips being lowered onto him. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and his grip on her hips tightened immensely. A moan escaped both of their mouths as she proved his theory of him never feeling anything better completely wrong. There was a mind-boggling rhythm to the way she moved her hips up and down and in a circular motion…
Approximately five to ten minutes later (Stiles was not particularly proud, but he was a 16 year old virgin until that night), he found himself staring at his ceiling. Elizabeth was laid next to him and they both were wearing nothing but a goofy grin as their chests heaved up and down repeatedly. Stiles felt a new connection to the girl, but he supposed that was normal and expected response. He turned his head to the left so that he was looking at her, "My best friend is a werewolf."
"That's okay… this is Beacon Hills, Danny says that everyone is a 'freaking werewolf'." Elizabeth laughed softly and smiled at him.
"So you killed her?"
"I don't know! I just woke up. I was in a sweat and I couldn't breathe… I never had a dream where I woke up like that before…" Scott looked away, clearly concerned about the graphic detail of his nightmare.
"Really? I have. Usually ends a little differently.
"A, I meant I've never had a dream that felt that real, and B, never give me that much detail about you in bed again."
"Noted." Stiles casts his gaze briefly to the girl who lived next door to him. Elizabeth was standing at her locker retrieving what Stiles assumed to be her text book. She lifted her hand and offered up a small wave. Stiles returned the gesture. Perhaps next time she brought over his dad some cookies he'd invite her inside.
A/N: So first attempt at a Teen Wolf fanfiction. Sorry if everyone is OOC ): I had a request to do this and then I saw that episode and thought it would be perfect (: Anyways I love to hear feedback from you guys and I'm kinda in the mood to do a bit more oneshots, so if you have any requests or ideas PM me or Review ^-^