With anyone.Īnd even if he did want to share them, there are too many layers of incomprehensible pack dynamics, human politics and ordinary social awkwardness in the way, so really, it’s just safer if he keeps them to himself. Anyway, they’re not the kind he wants to share. But these thoughts…well, teenage hormones suck, ok? And his dick clearly has the IQ of a particularly dense turnip. Thanks to his utter lack of brain to mouth filter, Stiles’ thoughts usually become public knowledge as soon as they cross his mind. In a quiet, deserted corner of his mind, Stiles is almost willing to acknowledge, very grudgingly, that he maybe, just maybe, has had thoughts. She knows almost everything, and if Stiles actually thinks about what she’s asking, she will see straight through the careful wall of repression and denial he’s built up over the past year and a half. This is the worst idea ever, because Lydia is smart. “Because you love us,” Lydia says with certainty. Other times, like right now, he thinks it may drive him right over the edge. Sometimes Stiles thinks it’s the only reason he’s still sane. It’s great a little slice of normalcy, like therapy without the bills. They each take turns hosting – it’s Lydia’s turn tonight – and spend the time watching movies, eating junk food and complaining about school. It’s Bipedal Bonding Night – a weekly thing he and Allison set up months ago so that all the non-wolfy members of the pack would have some time away from irrational instincts, pointy teeth and puppy dander.
“You all like males, at least,” Stiles gripes. He will forever and ever be a bumbling puppy. “I like Scott,” Allison says, and ok, yeah, no one in their right mind is ever going to call Scott a man. A kind of horrified realization dawns when he sees the speculative gleam in Danny’s eyes. Right, Danny?” Stiles looks desperately over to where the other boy lays, head propped up against Lydia’s hip. This should only be a question for the girls. “It’s a question for everyone,” Lydia declares with a determined glint in her eyes that Stiles knows all too well. “We each have to decide? I thought this was a question for Allison.” “So, in this alternate dimension where we are all sadly without our significant others,” Lydia proceeds, “We each have to decide. Stiles had tried to play it off as research, but no one was fooled, so, really, he doesn’t have a leg to stand on. Thanks to Danny, the whole pack has seen Stiles’ internet history. “You know it’s true,” Lydia replies, one eyebrow arched. “Hey!” Stiles says, jiggling his thigh once in retribution. “No Tim.” Finally, her gaze settles on Stiles. “No Jackson.” She gestures at Danny, the fourth side of their snuggle-square. “No Scott.” She puts her hand to her own chest. “I said we were in an alternate dimension.” She waves vaguely in Allison’s direction. Even Stiles, who has known since the third grade that Lydia Martin is a goddess, has to admit that it’s not her best angle. “It’s a simple question,” Lydia insists turning her head on Stiles’ thigh so she can peer at Allison.įrom his own vantage point, Stiles can see straight up her nostrils. Her incredulous laugh makes Stiles’ whole head wobble since he’s currently using her stomach as a pillow. The characters belong to their creators and MTV. Summary: Lydia is clever, Stiles has very secret feels, and both Derek and Stiles discover the hazards of discount furniture.Īuthor's Notes: A huge thank you to Kimmie for the beta job! :D All mistakes are mine. Fakinbrilliance Title: Maybe, for World Peace
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