A/N: Another one-shot, this time some really fluffy Sciles. Remember, I'll always take requests, for any pairing!
"You're the best, man," Stiles slurred, whacking Scott on the back.
Scott smiled tightly at his drunk-out-of-his-mind friend. "Thanks, Stiles," he answered, with a long suffering sigh. He didn't know why Stiles always insisted that they get together and raid the sheriff's alcohol stash. Scott couldn't get drunk, and Stiles knew that. But Stiles... Stiles could get drunk. Very drunk. And whenever he was intoxicated, Stiles got very happy-go-lucky. He spoke at length about Lydia, Derek, his dad, and Scott.
This particular day was no different. Stiles had been telling Scott how awesome he was for the past twenty minutes, and the werewolf was getting a little tired of it. He had hidden the alcohol, so hopefully Stiles would be sobering up soon, but right now he was still drunk out of his mind.
"M serious, Scotty," Stiles was saying, "You're the best friend ever." He clumsily put an arm around Scott's shoulder, pulling him close. "I loooove you."
For some reason he couldn't explain, Scott felt the earth drop out from under him at those words. Stiles was drunk, he probably had no idea what he was saying, probably wouldn't even remember that in the morning. But still. A thrill of excitement ran through him at the words, and Scott knew in that moment that he wanted Stiles to mean the words he was saying. Instead of freaking out, though, Scott pushed Stiles' arm off of his shoulder and said calmly, "Love you too, buddy."
Stiles' face lit up at those words, and Scott felt that thrill again. "M glad you love me too," Stiles slurred in response, that grin still on his face. "Cuz now I can do this."
Without warning, Stiles put his hands on Scott's face, pulled him close, and kissed him.
Scott's world exploded at the contact. The kiss was messy, Stiles was too drunk to control himself, but it was still the most thrilling moment of Scott's life. But then, he remembered what was really going on. Stiles was drunk. Not in control. Probably didn't know what he was doing.
So Scott, regretfully, pulled away.
"Stiles," he said, quietly, "you're drunk."
Stiles just grinned. "You're damn right I am," he said, slumping on Scott's shoulder again. "I love being drunk."
Scott sighed. That proved it. "Alright, Stiles," he said, "I think it's time for you to go to bed."
Stiles mumbled incomprehensively in response, but stumbled to his feet. Scott helped him climb the stairs to his bedroom, and once they arrived, Stiles collapsed into his bed and was snoring in seconds.
Sighing again, Scott grabbed a blanket from the hall closet and settled in on the floor, positive he wouldn't sleep a wink all night.
TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW
Sure enough, Scott watched the sun go up the next morning. All night he had run through scenarios of what could happen when Stiles woke up, each one worse than the last.
Would Stiles forget what he had done? Or worse, would he remember and regret it?
Finally, just as his clock struck 9, Stiles woke with a groan. "Uggghhh, my head," he mumbled, eyes squeezed shut.
Scott had no sympathy. "That's what you get for drinking all night," he responded, sitting up from the floor.
Stiles rolled over, opening his eyes slightly. "Oh. Hey Scott. You're still here?"
Scott rolled his eyes. "Seeing as you didn't go to sleep until two in the morning, I think my mom was expecting me to stay here."
Stiles groaned again, closing his eyes once more. "What happened last night?" he asked.
Scott froze in place. "Uhh, nothing..." he lied.
Stiles chuckled. "Dude, you're an awful liar." He rolled back over, looking Scott in the eye. "You know how I am when I'm drunk. If I did anything awkward, I can guarantee I didn't mean it."
Scott felt the ground shift again, but in a completely different way. It was exactly as he thought. Stiles didn't remember the kiss, and even if he did, he regretted it.
"So what did I do?" Stiles asked, curious.
"Uh..." Scott hesitated, but continued quietly, "you kissed me."
Stiles fell off the bed in shock, ending up sprawled on the floor next to Scott. "I did WHAT?!" He exclaimed, eyes wide.
Scott sighed, leaning against Stiles' bed. "You kissed me."
Stiles pushed himself up so he was sitting next to Scott. "Um," he said, blushing slightly, "sorry?"
Scott had never felt worse in his life. He had actually been happy last night, but now he was learning that it had all just been a misunderstanding. "So you didn't mean it," he said, quietly.
Stiles froze, and Scott heard his heartbeat inexplicably speed up. "Um. Well I don't really remember it..." He looked over at Scott, and their eyes met. "Do you hope I didn't mean it?"
Scott's heart was pounding in his chest. Was Stiles hinting that he didn't regret the kiss? "No," he whispered, "I don't hope that."
Stiles took in a deep, shaky breath. "I don't know if I meant it, Scott," he answered, just as quietly.
Scott was terrified. His heart had never beat faster. But he took a breath, and said, "Well I mean this." And with that, he leaned into Stiles and kissed him. Stiles froze at the contact, but after only a second, he melted into the kiss.
Sooner than he wanted to, Scott pulled away, staring at Stiles intently. Had he just done the completely wrong thing? If Stiles didn't feel the way he felt, this could ruin everything. Their friendship would be destroyed by one simple act.
But Stiles was smiling at Scott like he was the greatest person he had ever set eyes on. Without saying a word, he put his hands on Scott's face, and their lips met again.
And Scott knew that everything was going to be perfect.