Disclaimer: teen wolf does not belong to me in any way, shape or form :( and yayyy another super quick update for you all, I couldn't help myself. I'm living for Stayla rn
So thank you for all your continued support and a massive shoutout to guest, guest and Minnie999 for the awesome reviews again. it means the world :)
She was barely even conscious when the thumping in her head started, causing her to groan and pull the blankets up around her face to block out what little light there was. Wishing she could just melt away and never return.
She barely remembered anything. It was all one gigantic blur. One minute she was at Lydia's party and now she was hiding under a duvet, willing away the headache from hell. Regretting all those extra shots she must have done.
Only now she definitely wasn't at Lydia's party.
She was in a bed. A bed that felt warm and comforting and smelt like home baked cookies. A slight tinge of woodiness clinging to the covers.
"Dammit Kayla" she muttered, blowing out a long breath of exhaustion that made the blankets faff around her face, "what have you done?"
Waking up in a strangers bed was meant to be what the old Kayla did... not the new Kayla. What the hell did she even take at that party?
She pulled the covers down, expecting to come back to face with regret but instead she found no one sleeping next to her, having the whole bed to herself.
She blinked once, then twice, confused and a little relieved as she pushed herself up and looked around the room, recognising it vaguely as Stiles' - having only been in it once. The room was a little messy, but warm and welcoming. Very much Stiles. Blue walls and grey carpet, the bed she was in diagonal between the two walls. The covers wrapped around her were a simple checkered dark grey, the pillows fluffy and soft. Her attention caught by a large surf board leaning against the wall. Since when did Stiles surf? She couldn't imagine it with his coordination.
Which led her to her next confusion... why the hell was she in Stiles' bed?
She sat up, squinting at the first rays of morning sun coming through the window and glanced down at her attire. Same bikini bottoms and a flimsy tight cropped white tee but, thrown over it, was a red checked shirt that was too big for her but comforting none the less. The cuffs slipping down over her knuckles. That same woody smell clinging to the material that she, without realising, was breathing in to relax her.
But where was-
Oh. There he was.
Stiles was laying flat on his stomach on the floor beside the bed, his neck at an awkward angle. Dressed in his usual attire of a casual tee and slacks, a pair of mismatched socks on his feet.
She felt a little bad as, for whatever reason, she stole his bed. It didn't look all that comfortable down there, especially without a pillow or blanket. Maybe he was just being a gentleman but he could've easily have shared the bed with her - she didn't have cooties for crying out loud.
She didn't remember speaking to Stiles, let alone somehow ending up in his bedroom but her best guess was she bat signalled for him and he came running - always answering her calls.
Throwing back the rest of the covers, she stretched her bare legs off the edge of the bed and over Stiles' sleeping form, glancing around the room.
Surely somewhere he had some aspirin.
She wrapped the shirt tighter around her body, taking a seat at his desk as she ran her fingers along the messy top but nope - no aspirin. However, what was interesting was his MacBook was open although the screen was black.
What was more interesting though was, when she nudged the mouse pad, the screen lit up to his home page - no password needed.
What teenage boy didn't password protect his shit? Weird. Or maybe that was the bliss of being an only child. Not having the fear of an annoying sibling to unearth some embarrassing shit and use it as blackmail material. Still? Rookie move Stiles. Rookie move. Especially with the Sheriff as a father.
His Home Screen was just a generic pattern of zig zags that made her head hurt even more, debating just having a quick peek.
Should she?
No, probably not. But did that stop her? No. Even though it probably should.
She opened up his minimised tabs, seeing about forty along the top row. Yup, that sums up Stiles. Chaotic as ever. He wasn't looking at anything interesting... just some articles for an English paper and some chemistry homework. A part of her was expecting some 'out there' porn sites, like hentai or anime, or maybe even 'busty Asian beauties . Com', slightly disappointed she had nothing to tease him with.
She shook her head, closing the tabs and was just about to switch the macbook off when she came across the words 'fire' under a yellow folder pinned to his Home Screen.
Curiosity got the better of her, clicking open the folder and coming across dozens upon dozens of articles about The Hale House fire - probably every single article ever published about it. Each one had been edited though, with Stiles highlighting various bits of text in red, random question marks being typed over it.
The Beacon Hills Chronicle was the paper that broke the story. Alerting everyone in Beacon county to the tragedy.
'Deadly Inferno Engulfs House, Claims Ten Lives in Tragic Fire Accident'
Those words were splayed over the front page of the paper, dated Wednesday, January 26th 2005, above a grainy picture of The Hale House on fire.
Seems like forever ago.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, not wanting to read on but something compelled her to... the intense desire for answers consuming her.
'Tragic Fire in Beacon Hills Claims Ten Lives'
A fire that erupted at The Hale house in Beacon Hills Preserve on Tuesday night has left 10 people dead and one person severely injured, officials said. The fire was reported at 7:14 p.m. at the three-story mansion by passer-by's. Firefighters arrived eleven minutes later to discover the house engulfed in flames. They were able to extinguish the fire, but not before it had caused extensive damage to the structure.
The cause of the fire remains unknown, leaving investigators searching for answers amidst the charred remains of what was once a loving family home.
The bodies of the ten individuals, whose identities have not yet been formally disclosed, have all been recovered. Preliminary reports indicate that the cause of death for each victim was a combination of fire-related injuries and smoke inhalation. Dental records will need to be taken to confirm identity.
Amidst the harrowing scene, a glimmer of hope emerged as one survivor was rescued from the wreckage. The individual, whose name has not been released, but is believed to be an adult male, is currently receiving treatment at a local hospital for severe third-degree burns. The survivor's condition remains critical, and medical professionals are working tirelessly to provide the necessary care and support.
Local authorities and fire investigators are diligently working to determine the cause of the fire. However, officials say it appears to have started on the first floor of the house and the basement. The fire quickly spread to the second and third floors, and then to the roof. Firefighters were able to contain the fire to the house, without any damage to the surrounding woodland.
The investigation aims to uncover any potential factors that may have contributed to this devastating incident.
The residents of Beacon Hills have rallied together, offering their support and condolences to the grieving family and friends affected by this profound loss.
As the investigation continues, the community remains united in their commitment to uncovering answers. Their thoughts and prayers go out to the Hale family, the lone survivor, and all those impacted by this heartbreaking event.
A vigil is planned for tonight - Wednesday, 26th January - at Beacon Hills High School. Investigators and the Beacon Hills Police Department are asking anyone with any information to please come forward.
Her eyes reread the words many times... allowing her time to fully understand them. A new well of sadness erupting in her chest.
She clicked out of that article, opening up the next one.
'Devastating Fire Claims Lives of Hale Family in Beacon Hills'
A tragic fire that erupted at The Hale house, Beacon Hills Preserve, Beacon hills, in the early evening of January 25th 2005, has claimed the lives of ten family members.
The matriarch of the family, Talia Hale (44) was a prominent businesswoman and a philanthropist, as well as being a well-respected member of the community. She is survived by her two children, Laura (18) and Derek Hale (16) who were not at home at the time of the fire. Sadly, her youngest daughter, Cora Hale (10), is believed to have perished in the blaze.
The sole survivor of the fire is Talia's younger brother, Peter Hale (30) who sustained severe third and fourth-degree burns, remains in a coma at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. His condition is described as 'critical and life threatening'.
According to the Beacon Hills Fire Department, the cause of the fire is still under investigation. However, it is believed to have been due to an electrical fault.
Mourners and residents of Beacon Hills gathered yesterday evening, Wednesday 26th January, at Beacon Hills High School for a vigil to honour the ten that tragically died in the fire.
At the end of the articles there was a single picture of the vigil - hundreds, if not thousands, of mourners on the green pitch holding a single candle to their chests, their heads bowed in sorrow.
She didn't know why Stiles would have these articles, least of all why he had bits highlighted in red - especially the words 'electrical fault'. Why was he so curious about it? Did he know something she didn't?
She flicked through some more articles, all saying much the same thing except this time officially naming the remaining family members that died, including the children. As well as one article titled 'Hale House fire: NOT Arson. Electrical fault to be blamed'.
She knew that wasn't true but, unfortunately, that was what everyone now believed. Her family unable to be avenged and, instead, wrote off as a 'tragic accident'.
Within the folder Stiles also had official reports. Reports that no newspaper would be able to get their greedy grubby hands on. She was, momentarily, confused how he got them - then she remembered his dad was the Sheriff and he had his ways, no doubt accessing it illegally. Because that was such a Stiles thing to do.
She couldn't help herself, she kept reading, her elbow resting on the edge of the desk as she propped her hand in her palm, flicking through the reports.
Among them was the field accident report.
It detailed the time of the call, how many fire trucks arrived, how they eventually put out the fire. It even had how many people died as well as the names of all first responders - one of which was Stilinski. Stiles' dad.
In more reports, it had statements from all key witnesses as well as the first responders and investigators. Each one matched up perfectly. Too perfectly, if anything. Like a neat little package wrapped up with a God Damn bow tie on top.
Then, much to her surprise, Stiles even had each autopsy report for all ten members of her dead family.
She was surprised, having never even seen these herself. If anything, it was crude and crossing a line. Why did he need those? What could her family's cut up and dissected bodies tell him that they didn't already know?
She was on autopilot, clicking on the first file titled 'Talia Hale - autopsy results'.
Name of decedent: Talia Grace Hale
Date and time of death: January 25, 2005 at 22.57 hours (pronounced)
Date and time of autopsy: January 26, 2005 at 10.30 hours
Age: 44
Sex: Female
Diagnosis: No relevant history.
1) Thermal injuries
2) Possible carbon monoxide poisoning
The body is identified by toe tags and is that of an unembalmed, charred female. Further identification required by dental records shows this is the body of a 44 year old female who died as a result of a house fire.
She couldn't read anymore, pushing the laptop away from her.
She hadn't even read these before. Why did Stiles think this level of information was needed? And why didn't he tell her he had it?
Her jaw clenched in anger, grabbing a ballpoint pen from the desk and throwing it at Stiles' sleeping form, watching it bounce off the back of his head and wake him up with a start.
He flailed and foundered like he had been set on fire, looking around half sleepy and full of confusion, haphazardly wiping the drool from his chin.
"O-Oh, Kayla... h-hi-"
"Why do you have this?" she asked, swivelling the laptop around so he could see it open onto all the articles and reports, his eyes suddenly widening in guilt and panic.
"Uh..."
"Half of this stuff I've never even seen before" she rambled, "and I don't get why you need to have it. Is there something you're not telling me?"
He gulped at her sharp tone, nervously standing up as he ran a shaky hand over his short hair, struggling for words.
"Well?"
"Heh... uh... you, um-" he laughed nervously, "-you weren't meant to see that".
She cocked an eyebrow, not at all happy with that answer.
"I just... I just got curious" he said quickly, trying to set things straight, "and when I get curious I have to do some digging and when I found out about werewolves and that hunters caused the fire I just... I needed to know more. It's stupid, but I guess I thought I could put the pieces together. Maybe figure out what the investigators missed. Maybe... I don't know... help find out who did it?"
Her bright red anger got replaced by a gentle annoyance, sighing loudly and feeling her body sag.
"Why didn't you tell me you were looking into it?"
He stood there, still a little awkward, like he was waiting for her to chew his head off.
"... Um... I didn't want to upset you..."
"It'll take a lot more than that to upset me".
"I know" he winced, "I'm sorry. I should've told you".
"And did you?" she asked, "find anything?"
"No" he shook his head, "except..."
She quirked a brow, watching him as he stepped towards her and kneeled beside her, turning the laptop to face him as he brought up an article detailing the devastating effects of the fire, along with pictures of the tragedy.
She didn't really understand what he was getting at and why he was showing her this - that was until he pointed out a blurry figure in the background of one of the photos, standing along the barrier of the police tape.
She squinted, trying to make out the person on the screen and it wasn't until a few seconds later she recognised that sadistic face.
"Kate Argent?" she asked in surprise, "Kate was there?"
"Unless she has a twin".
"I sure as hell hope not".
"Also this" Stiles said, bringing up the long list of witness statements and opening up one in particular titled 'John Alexander Hale'.
"... My dad..." she whispered, taking a moment to let the pain wash over her - a moment of weakness - before glancing at Stiles. "Of course he was interviewed. He was family".
"Yeah, I get that. But..." he trailed off, zooming in on part of the statement, "your dad was here, in Beacon Hills, when the fire started. He wasn't at The Hale house, but he was in town".
"What? That can't be right" she shook her head, peering closer at the screen, "we were all at home, in Louisiana".
"Not according to this statement" Stiles shrugged, "as claimed by your dad, he arrived that morning. Nothing seemed unusual or untoward. The only reason he wasn't at the house at the time of the fire was because he was on a 'business errand' - whatever that means".
Sure enough, when glancing at the statement - in her dad's own words - it said exactly that.
Stiles sensed her confusion, sending her a sympathetic glance.
"Do you remember much from that time?"
"No" she shook her head, an honest reaction, "I can't. I... I don't even remember their funerals. That whole period of time is kind of blurry. Grief reaction or whatever. Plus, I was only ten".
"Why would your dad lie to you about something like this?"
For the first time in forever, she was starting to have doubts about her dad.
He had always been open and honest with her, treating her fairly. Never underestimating her, nor controlling her. He was the parent she could - and always did - depend on.
So why did he tell her a lie, when there was factual evidence proving it?
"I-I don't know" she muttered sadly, unsure why her dad would travel back to Beacon Hills when, usually, they only did that every summer.
Something clicked in her mind, like the snap of a glow stick.
"Stiles... was January 25th 2005 a full moon?"
He pursed his lips, quickly bringing up the calendar on the MacBook and tracking the dates back to 2005 where, lo and behold, January the 25th was indeed a full moon.
How hadn't she realised that before?
"What does that mean?"
"The first full moon in January is known as the wolf moon" she explained, "it's an opportunity for self reflection. In our family, it's tradition for everyone in the pack to get together and perform rites of passage. My dad rarely went. He and uncle Peter didn't get along, and he didn't always agree with the way aunt Talia did things. His life was in Louisiana. He hated Beacon Hills. That's why we only came to visit during summer. I guess, that year... maybe he decided to go?"
"What kind of rites of passage?"
"I don't know. Transitioning, sharing power... growing into being a werewolf. Cora was close to the age of exhibiting signs of turning... so was Rosie. I never really got it - not being a werewolf and all".
"So why, that specific year, did your dad decide to go?" Stiles asked, "doesn't that seem a bit weird to you?"
"Very" she replied, "and when Derek decides to show his ass back home, I'll get answers from him. Trust me on that".
They both fell into silence, both their minds racing - Stiles, with new theories, and Kayla's with the possibility of what other lies her family had told her.
She sighed, closing the laptop lid. Deciding that was a problem for a later date. Right now she just wanted some aspirin.
"Sorry for snooping".
He was kneeled next to her, giving her a few surprised blinks before nervously laughing.
"As long as that's all you found".
"Oh?" She smirked, "you've got more exciting stuff hidden, hm?"
Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she pretended to reach for the laptop again, much to his panic.
She dissolved into laughter, playfully pushing at his shoulder. "Geez, relax, I'm kidding. Keep your porn kinks a secret then".
Unbeknownst to her, he was only panicking because he had saved that 'special' photo she sent him, not wanting to come across as weird that he still had it.
Well, that and the kinky porn sites he had visited. But mainly the picture.
"I was actually on the hunt for aspirin if you have any".
"Oh yeah, sure. Give me a sec".
She watched him stand and head to his bedside table, opening a drawer and pulling out a bottle of pills.
She should've checked there first but bedside drawers and teenage boys room? She would probably find a whole bunch of crusty socks and tissue.
He walked back over, handing her the bottle which she popped a couple into her hand, bringing them to her mouth and dry swallowing them.
"So, uh..." Stiles muttered, rolling backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet, "... that party, huh? Pretty crazy".
"Honestly? I don't really remember much of it" she shrugged, "joys of being drugged I guess".
He frowned, his eyes conveying nothing but concern.
"Drugged?"
"That's my best guess, yeah".
"Who drugged you?"
"If I wasn't trying to live life on the straight and narrow I'd say 'myself' but..." she smirked as she shrugged, "who knows. Don't care. That's a yesterday problem".
"Uh... that's kind of a big deal Kayla".
She frowned, not really understanding why he looked so troubled with her statement.
"Is it?" she asked cluelessly, "why?"
"W-Why?" he spluttered, frowning in complete and utter confusion at his friend, "why? Because drugging people is bad"
She rolled her eyes at his explanation, as if he was talking to a five year old, and simply cocked her head to the side sassily.
"Yes, I know but... it's just... it's... it's one of those things, y'know" she tried to explain, waving her hand out in dismissal, "it comes with the party scene. I've lived in the party scene since I was thirteen. I know how these things go".
"T-Thirteen?" Stiles spluttered, "thirteen?"
"Yeah, why? What were you doing at thirteen?"
He suddenly felt very uncultured to anything relating to being popular because, at thirteen, he was nerding out with Scott playing Xbox and still getting excited over the ice cream van - well, he actually still did - looking at Kayla with a slack jaw.
"Point is-" she smirked, "-it just happens. Don't worry about it".
It was only seeing Stiles' completely shocked expression did she realise that - maybe - what she had said wasn't normal. Honestly, she struggled to understand what was and what wasn't these days. Her years of trauma making her think that even the worst of things was to be justified. Even getting drugged.
"Anyway-" she changed the subject, "-I'm cold and half naked so... you got any clothes?"
Stiles blinked a couple of times, his eyes widening as he awkwardly glanced down at her figure, her bare legs and midriff on show. Trying not to make eye contact with her bare breasts poking out through the tight - almost non existent - tee she was wearing, his plaid shirt baggy and falling off her shoulders.
"Oh. Uh... c-clothes...? Do I... I have... have I... um..."
He was a spluttering mess, his pale speckled cheeks turning a deep red as he turned around several times on the spot, trying to remember where he stored his clothes but his mind turned completely blank - leaving him looking like a god damn merry go round.
Maybe they were over there... or were they over there? Or did he even have a wardrobe-
"Stiles?" she smirked, watching him flail around to face her, deliberately staring intensely into her eyes and no where else.
"Yeah?"
"You have a chest of drawers right there" she said, pointing behind him to the black wooden set of drawers.
"Right. Yeah. Of course" he gulped, "I-I knew that".
She hid her giggle of amusement behind her hand, trying not to intimidate or embarass him even more than he already was as he flailed to the drawers, desperately opening and closing each one to find what he was looking for.
Eventually he came back over with a folded pair of grey sweatpants and a blue tee with some yellow writing on it. She sent him a playful grin as she stood, accepting the clothes.
"Thanks".
The blush lingered on his cheeks, his eyes darting from side to side like he didn't know where to look or what to say.
She unravelled the sweatpants, shaking them out and hooked her fingers into the skimpy bikini bottoms, beginning to tug them down her legs.
"Oh my holy GOD-w-what-what are you doing?"
She kicked them away, smirking as she noticed he had slapped his hand over his eyes, clearly not trusting himself to not take a peak.
"They're full of chlorine" she shrugged, stepping into his sweatpants and tugged them up so they settled on her hip bones, turning over the waistband slightly so they fit her better, "plus they're kind of small. Much comfier to go without".
She got exactly the reaction she was hoping for - exaggerated choking sounds and another hand thrown up over his eyes for good measure.
Boys.
She took off his shirt and removed the super tight tee, glad to get into Stiles' baggier and comfier clothes - the tee proudly stating 'Stud' with a picture of a muffin underneath it.
Stud muffin. Typical Stiles.
She poked his chest, rolling her eyes as he jumped and flailed.
"You can look now".
He nervously peaked at her from between his fingers, blowing out a sigh of relief seeing her fully dressed and covered, slowly lowering his hands.
"What do you think?" she cheekily asked, doing a small spin on the spot.
"You look, uh... you look really..."
"That bad, huh?" she joked with a playful smirk.
"No, no, no. God no" he rushed out, "you look really good. It suits you".
"The clothes suit me... or do they suit me because they're yours?"
She watched him gulp, unable to source any words whatsoever. Stiles not able to speak because all he could think about was how frigging hot she looked wearing his clothes... knowing she was completely naked under them was a happy bonus.
She bit her lip, ignoring the way she was beginning to feel flushed and full of tension, like there was an itch that was spreading, begging to be scratched. Her skin dancing with tingles of delight.
"Uh... you could've sneaked a peek" she joked but it came out a little breathless, like she was getting overwhelmed with the effects of her flirting, "it's not like you've never seen it before".
She watched his eyes widen as she, subtly - finally - referenced the photo she sent him... the nude of her just in a sexy underwear set now all that was playing on his mind.
"Uh... heh... I uh... I... um..."
"I'm assuming you still have it?"
"... Uh..." he blanched, clearly beginning to panic, "am I... am I not meant to...?"
"If I didn't want you to keep it, I wouldn't have sent it to you".
She loved flirting with him and getting under his skin, watching him unravel. It was fun. Not just fun, but it made her feel... excited. A new rush of emotions souring through her.
He was silent, still not sure what to say.
"Anyways-" she grinned, "-care to explain how I ended up in your bed?"
"Wow. You really don't remember anything, do you?"
"Was there anything worth remembering?"
Yes. Yes there was. One hundred percent yes. She may have been drunk and off her face but she was vulnerable with him - she admitted she liked him for crying out loud - and, what? Now she couldn't remember that? Great!
"Uh... no" he lied, trying for a half hearted shrug, "you texted me and asked me to pick you up. Refused to go home and, uh... I put you to bed".
'But not before we almost kissed' he added in his head, kicking himself that she didn't remember that moment.
"So why'd you sleep on the floor?"
He frowned in confusion, "uh... because you were in the bed...?"
"There's enough room for two".
He glanced shyly at his queen bed, trying to shake his brain free of the images of both of them in his bed and the things they could do in it.
"Uh..."
"I'm teasing" she joked, "but thank you for getting me home safe. Well, not home, but you know what I mean".
"So you really don't remember anything?"
"Not really. Why?"
"You don't remember what Brian told you?"
She shook her head, looking and feeling a little confused so Stiles quickly gave her the run down of Brian's words and threats, not hiding his disgust as he repeated the scumbags proposition.
"Oh" she muttered, feeling a creepy sense of deja vu so she knew Stiles was telling the truth, "I wonder how he found out".
"That's what you're worried about?" he asked, "not the fact he's basically blackmailing you into getting into your pants?"
"Yeah... that should maybe be higher on my list of priorities".
"Oh jeez, ya think?!"
"Obviously I'm not going to sleep with him anymore" she dismissed.
"A-Anymore?"
"Well, there was a time I was considering it-"
"Oh my god-"
"I'm sixteen. I have hormones. Don't judge me".
"You deserve to be judged" he retaliated lightly, "he's a douche".
"Aren't all guys?!"
"Wow, thanks".
She smirked at their back and forth banter, enjoying winding him up.
"Relax. Brian's not a threat. He's just... Brian. I've dealt with many Brian's".
Stiles bit the inside of his cheek, feeling incredibly overprotective of her. Especially with how down right creepy and perverted Brian was being... it was a shame she didn't see that. Why didn't she see her worth?
"What if he was the one that roofied you?" Stiles asked, hating the thought but knowing it could be entirely true. If he wanted Kayla that much... he would cross the line to get her, that he was sure of.
"Why would he do that?"
"Because he's a perverted scumbag!" Stiles exclaimed, "didn't you get the memo?"
"Stiles" she sighed, "I appreciate your concern, but don't worry. I got Brian handled".
He chose not to argue, but grumbled under his breath "bastard deserves to be punched again".
"Not arguing with that".
He scrubbed a hand down his face, sending her a shy glance.
"How you feeling now?"
"Honestly? Better" she nodded, "think the aspirin has kicked in".
Just as she said that, Stiles heard a low engine get close to the house - an engine he knew all too well.
The Sheriff's cruiser.
"Oh god. Oh god" he mumbled, brushing past Kayla to rush over to the window and glance out, "my dad. Oh my god that's my dad".
"Cool" Kayla grinned, "maybe I should go downstairs and say hello-"
"What?" he exclaimed, "no. What? Since when are you and my dad BFF's?"
"Since he let me off with underage drinking, possessing a fake ID, stood up to my mother on her front door step and is happy to take the piss out of you" she smirked, "he's chill".
"That's... that's not... no" he fumbled with his words, quickly shaking his head, "he can't find you here".
"In the house?"
"In my bedroom" he exclaimed, panicking as he heard the car door slam shut, "in my clothes. Oh dear god"
"Scared to get the safe sex talk, huh?"
"Oh my god".
"Just let me go say hey-"
"This time, you need to climb out the bedroom window".
"I'm not climbing out your bedroom window like some Scarlet".
"You asked me to jump out of yours".
"Yeah, because my mother would have probably chopped off your dick and I don't want her to chop off your dick".
He stopped short, wanting to ask why she wanted him unchopped but, before he could, he heard his dad's keys scraping against the front door.
"I'm dead. I'm dead" he muttered, running a hand over his short hair, "I'm so dead".
She rolled her eyes at his dramatics, looking around for the clothes that she had kicked off.
"Fine" she shrugged, picking up her string bikini bottoms and tiny little cropped tee from the floor, "I mean, I guess I can get changed out of your clothes and back into mine-"
He grabbed the clothes out of her stunned hands, wondering how on earth she thought that was a good idea.
"Are you crazy?"
"Are you?" she retaliated, "you said if he sees me in your clothes-"
"And wearing this in my room is any better?" he exclaimed, waving the white skimpy clothes about in front of her face, knowing if his dad saw her in that he would definitely be getting the talk. And probably a slap around the head.
"Stiles, what do you want from me?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest, "dressed? Undressed? Play dead? What?"
He heard his dad coming up the stairs, his heavy and tired boot clad feet making the middle stair squeak. The floorboard underneath still not fixed.
He was panicking, looking around his room for a hiding place but there was none. No where he could stash her until his dad decided to go to bed.
The footsteps were getting closer, inching towards Stiles' bedroom door and, without thinking, he grabbed Kayla's arm and propelled her to the side to the space just behind his door. Just in time too, as it then opened, hiding her from sight.
He floundered, chucking her clothes in the air like he was handling hot lava before batting them away. Only, in his fear and haste, he smacked them directly into his dad's path. The white cloth landing perfectly by his feet.
He choked back a gasp, completely frozen on the spot as his dad cocked an eyebrow at the show of skimpy clothes by his feet, sending Stiles a confused stare.
"...H-Hey dad..." he said breathlessly, trying not to look guilty as, from the corner of his eye, he saw Kayla throw him a glare with her arms crossed, "wh-what are you doing here?"
"What am I doing in my house?"
"Well, the mortgage you still have left to pay says otherwise".
His cheeky joke fell on deaf ears as his dad bent down to pick up the cropped tee and string bikini, the latter dangling from his finger.
"Oh... uh, I uh... I'm... I'm experimenting" he explained, his dad looking at him in exhaustion, "w-with my style".
As expected, his dad did not buy that explanation for one single second. His pale gaze looking at the tiny little string bikini bottoms before giving Stiles a sarcastic head to toe inspection.
"Son, if you're fitting in these then your future girlfriends are going to be severely disappointed".
He flushed a deep red, trying to think of something to say - something believable - but his dad's quip had sent Kayla into a fit of the giggles, the cute little sounds falling from her lips despite how hard she tried to muffle them.
He watched his dad frown, looking around the room before stepping in and glancing behind the door, his eyes widening at the sight of Kayla.
She ignored both of their shocked expressions, raising a hand into a small wave.
"Hey Sheriff" she grinned brightly, "nice to see you again".
"Oh. Oh" his dad muttered in a kind of daunting realisation, looking between Stiles and Kayla in an almost surprised disturbance, especially when he noticed she was wearing Stiles' favourite pair of sweatpants.
"No no no no no-"
"These are yours?" he asked, cutting off Stiles' frenzied-half assed denial, awkwardly presenting her with the bikini bottoms.
"Guilty" she smirked, taking them off his finger, "they weren't very comfortable".
"Oh my god-"
"Well, I can see I interrupted something..." the sheriff muttered, giving his head a small wobble as he slowly backed away, "next time, I'll knock".
"No need, you didn't interrupt anything" Stiles exclaimed, "no need to knock. It's all very innocent in here".
His dad sent him a glare, letting him know he didn't think it was all that 'innocent'.
"G-Good to see you again Kayla" the sheriff muttered, "uh... yeah..."
He awkwardly backed away, shutting the door behind him leaving a very amused and a very traumatised Stiles behind.
"See? He's chill" Kayla chuckled, "I don't know why you're so worried".
It was just after she said that, that a foil condom wrapper was slipped under his door... two seconds later, another one following suit. Then, two seconds after that, one more being slid through.
Stiles could've died.
A/N) AHHHH I'm screeching. This story has SO much more backstory to the fire and The Hale family, and team stayla trying to figure it out whoop. And omG she can't remember telling him she liked him... dun dun dunnn... poor stiles :( but their chemistry and that ending? OOOOOFT. IM LOVING IT
so I hope you all liked and please please leave your thoughts and I will see you all super soon. :)