How To Be A Heartbreaker.
Rule #1. Always look hot.
Rule #2. Never wear your heart on your sleeve.
Rule #3. Always have fun but as soon as it's over, you have to be the first to leave.
Rule #4. Never get attached to someone who you could lose.
Rule #5. Always leave him wanting more.
"This has got to stop!" Erica exclaims, storming into Stiles' bedroom with a flourish.
Stiles blinks up at her from underneath the blanket he's burritoed inside with wide amber eyes, red rimmed from crying.
"What's got to stop?" he rasps in reply, rubbing at his tired eyes with his finger tips.
His head is banging and his hair's a mess and he wants to just sleep for a year and hopefully never see another cheating asshole again for the rest of his loveless life.
"This! You!" Stiles raises a confused eye brow at his blonde goddess of a friend, who in turn huffs in annoyance.
"What I mean is I'm sick of you dating these douche bags and getting your heart broken!" Erica gazes down at him with shimmering chocolate eyes which would give the cutest of puppies a run for its money.
"Which is why I have decided to give you a crash course on how to be a heartbreaker yourself!"
The grin she shoots him is almost blinding, like the sun he's blocked out with his thick black curtains.
He must look unconvinced because in the next second Erica is laying on top of him trying to use her non existent body weight to squish him into agreeing but, oh no okay, yeah she's a lot stronger than she looks.
"Fine, fine Catwomen, you can be my slutty yoda. Teach me your temptress ways!" he cries over dramatically, flailing like a fish on the deck of a boat.
Erica chuckles in triumph, tweaking his up turned nose with her fore finger and thumb before climbing off of him with more grace than her tight leather pants should allow.
"First things first Batman, it's not slutty to know what you want and how to get it, and second of all, you are in desperate need of a shower, because seriously, you stink of rejection, self loathing and whiskey." she even screws her nose up to emphasize her point, lovely girl.
Stiles glares at her to little affect due to his ridiculous bed hair and spondgebob pajama pants, but stumbles into his ensuit with little fuss.
"Rule number one Stilinski!" Erica shouts from his room as he steps into the shower. "Always look hot!"
"I am already regretting this decision." Stiles complains through the thin green material of the changing room 'door', stretching the light grey braces away from his chest before letting them ping back into place.
This is the 12th outfit he's tried on so far, and the third shop, and he's beginning to feel like a traumatized life sized ken doll.
"Come on Erica I've already brought a crap load of stuff, I seriously don't need any more clothes."
Erica makes a half laugh half evil witch cackle from just outside the changing room, "Stop complaining, I'm making you irresistible to men, don't you want to be irresistible to men Stiles? Hmm?"
Stiles grumbles something unintelligible before facing himself in the floor length mirror to fiddle with his bow tie, trying to remember the youtube tutorial video he watched a few years earlier when his mom took him to a posh gallery opening.
Suddenly the curtain is being torn back causing Stiles to let out a totally manly, (shut up Erica it was totally manly), yell as Erica drags him out of the dressing room.
"Dammit women I could have been naked!" he chastises, long arms flailing for emphasis.
Erica gives him a once over, her grin borderline predatory, "If only I was lucky enough to catch you with your pants down Stilinski."
Stiles doesn't blush no matter what anyone says.
"Definitely get that outfit. Serously, if you weren't strictly into cock I would be all over you right now."
Stiles laughs out loud and slings an arm around Erica's shoulders, nuzzling his cheek against her own.
"I promise if I ever decide I like women, you'll be the first person I come to."
Erica grins before licking a stripe up his cheek making Stiles squirm.
"Damn straight Batman! Now we need to get you some shoes. Ooh and maybe a haircut."
"You're an evil women Reyes."
Turns out Stiles doesn't even remotely hate going to the hairdressers, not when it means head massages and a gorgeous fairytale princess looking hairdresser, who his brother Scott would totally die over, playing with his hair and calling him adorable.
"I'm not adorable," he huffs, "I'm mysterious and sexy and rugged."
Erica almost brains herself falling off of the round leather chair she's spinning in laughing. At least, Allison the awesome hairdresser, hides her giggle behind her hand and nods in a serious fashion as she styles his mess of grown out hair into something at least half way attractive.
"Leave it long enough so that someone can get a good grip of it." Erica requests causing Allison and Stiles both to blush crimson.
"I need a new best friend." he tells Allison, totally ignoring Erica's comment, "Do you know anyone that's available?"
Allison shakes her head, no, and Stiles almost doesn't dodge the tub of hair gel that's hurled his way.
Stiles is beginning to question every life decision that has led to him standing in the middle of Jungle, the only gay bar in Beacon Hills, wearing the tightest red t-shirt ever, white braces and even tighter black jeans, flanked by his devil-in-disguise best friend who is holding a tray full of what looks to be sambuca shots.
Stiles eyes the tray wearily. "I don't think I can do that many shots." he gulps taking a sip of the luke warm beer he's been nursing for the past half hour.
Erica rolls her eyes like its an effort to be around him. "They're not all for us stupid, we're taking them over there." Stiles follows where her finger's pointing to a table at the end of the bar, currently occupied by three extremely good looking men.
"Yes. Yes that is definitely a thing we should be doing. Definitely!" he rambles enthusiastically, grabbing the tray from Erica's grip and taking a hurried step forward only to be dragged back by a fist around his braces.
"Ahahaahh young padawan, this outing has rules."
Stiles slumps slightly but turns back to face her. "You're taking way too much pleasure in this."
Erica doesn't even try to defend herself, just smirks and tugs him closer so he can hear her better over the thumping bass.
"Rule number three; always have fun, but as soon as its over, you have to be the one to leave, capiche? This coincides with rule number five; always leave him wanting more. If at the end of the night if a guy wants to kiss you, you kiss him on the cheek and coolly walk away." Erica pauses and Stiles realises she's waiting for confirmation that he's understood her.
"Right, got it. Have fun, blue ball him, run." He rabbits with a grin, "You're a cruel women Reyes."
"Yeah, well, I try," she giggles, shoving his shoulder playfully.
Stiles shoves back just as gently before moving to walk towards the table but is tugged back again. "Erica!" he whines.
"What's the golden rule?" she questions, eyes serious.
Stiles lets a genuine smile settle on his face.
"Never get attached."
"You're ready, I'm so proud."
"Yeah, yeah, come on lets go."
"Okay eager beaver but I call dibs on tall, dark and muscular, hot damn."
The three guys are Isaac, Jackson and Boyd.
Boyd, or tall, dark and muscular, can't take his eyes off of Erica for even a second, even 20 minutes after they squeezed themselves around their table and forced them into doing shots, he can't draw his eyes away from her and if the way she's looking at him is any indication, Stiles is gonna be sextiled from their apartment tonight.
Isaac and Jackson on the other hand are both gay, much to Stiles' surprise, but only Isaac is single and thank the lord because he's pretty much the most gorgeous guy Stiles has ever seen.
All tall and lithe, golden curls and stunning baby blue eyes. Cheek bones you could do some serious damage with, and yes Stiles very much would like to find out exactly what kind of damage he could do with them.
Right, deep breaths. You are a heartbreaker. No more Mr. Nice Stiles. Fun, blue balls, run. Fun, blue balls, run. You've got this. You are a full on dating Jedi! Flirt god dammit! Flirt!
It turns out that flirting with Isaac is probably the easiest thing Stiles has ever done. They talk about their majors at the local collage, Stiles criminology and Isaac, medicine, family, Isaac lives with his adopted brother and sister, Stiles' mom and dad live across town. They talk about films and shows they've seen lately, and Stiles is actually really enjoying himself, casual flirting being something that he's never really done, somehow always finding himself falling head first into serious relationships with controlling, cheating dick heads.
Chatting with Isaac is easy and Stiles is playing it cool for a change.
I think I'm getting the hang of this.
Erica gives him a sly smile and a wink from across the table that he returns in kind, and then there's more shots and everything's getting hazy and awesome, and Isaac's hand is on Stiles' thigh, so of course that's when it all goes to pot.
Stiles is the totally innocent party, just minding his own business, heading back to the table from the bathroom with only minimal stumbling, when someone grabs his hand and he finds himself pressed, as close as humanly possible, to a warm, solid chest. A chest that belongs to the hottest person he has ever seen. Hollywood films included.
They're almost the same height, maybe an inch between them, but that's where the similarities stop, because where Stiles is slim but toned, pale with Bambi like eyes and a constellation of beauty marks covering his skin, the dark haired stranger is a solid mass of unbelievable muscle and brooding, with the palest green eyes, razor sharp cheekbones and a jawline that's covered with designer stubble that Stiles wants to sink his teeth into.
"Hi." Stiles manages to squeak, mentally chastising himself for losing control of the situation.
Tall, dark and handsome, with a side of brooding and yes please I'd like that to go, smiles slow and surely, sending a shiver up Stiles' spine, whilst staring at him like he's prey.
"Hi." Ugh of course his voice is husky as sin, this is just my luck, oh god, he can probably feel my heart doing somersaults through this ridiculously tight t shirt.
"Do you wanna dance?" the stranger asks, practically breathing the sentence into Stiles' ear, his stubble brushing Stiles' cheek tantalizingly as his strong fingers curl around Stiles' hipbones.
He's swaying them before Stiles can find his breath to answer, and they're moving too slowly, too dirty, for the lively dance tune that's blasting through the speakers. Stiles feels flushed all over.
"You're just about the hottest person in here." the stranger rasps, teeth scraping Stiles' ear making his pant suddenly too tight. "I saw you at the bar and just couldn't wait to get my hands on you."
Stiles squeaks as the stranger rolls their hips together, sliding one large hand firmly up Stiles back to rest at the base of his neck.
This can't be happening. Seriously what was in those shots? Have I knocked myself out? Died and gone to a sexy, sweaty heaven?
"I'm Stiles." he gasps, his own hands clasping at unfairly toned shoulders, god did this guy live at the gym?
Tall, dark and handsome, quirks an eyebrow, his lips tugging up in a smirk.
"Derek." he replies, leaning down slightly to mouth at the perfect skin behind Stiles' ear, and shit, he's so screwed.
Stiles is so hard and hot and drunk. It's like someones cranked up the heat and sucked all the air from the room as they rock back and forth, pressed together without an inch of space between their bodies.
"Do you wanna get out of here?" Derek asks, his intense sea foam green eyes locked with Stiles'.
Stiles is about to say yes, (yes please . I'll do anything you ask if you keep touching me and looking like that and god dammit if I get in your bed I am never leaving, ever. You will be stuck with me until I die a sweaty, sexy death, hopefully on your awesome penis), before he catches a glimpse of Erica's golden locks off to one side and remembers he's on a mission. Stiles is a heartbreaker now. Stiles is in control and he's gonna have this greek god of a man wrapped around his little finger, not the other way round.
Using every single ounce of his will power, Stiles pulls himself out of Derek's grasp, causing Derek's, (rather impressive), eyebrows to knit together in confusion.
"I'mwithfreinds," Stiles practically shouts in Derek's face and god he can feel the blush that's painted on his cheeks and down his neck.
Derek smirks slightly dragging his eyes down to Stiles' crotch and back up again, making Stiles feel naked and raw, before taking a half step into Stiles' personal space causing Stiles to step back as well.
"Like I said, I'm er, with friends so I'm just gonna, y'know, go see them. My friends I mean."
Stiles cringes at his own words, apparently not making a tit out of himself was something he'd have to work really hard at.
Derek studies him for a moment before smiling, slow and sensual, and nodding at him.
"Okay, sure. I'm here to see my little brother anyway." Stiles fakes a smile back, already hating himself for letting this gorgeous specimen of a man walk away from him.
"It was, real good meeting you though." Derek drawls, dragging Stiles to his chest in one sure sweep, pressing his velvet soft lips to Stiles' flushed cheek before grinning and strolling away, leaving Stiles half hard and wanting.
Holy shit hot please tell me that wasn't an alcohol induced dream, Batman.