So this has been done for a while, but I pretty much forgot to post it here, because no one seemed interested in reading it. So...My bad!
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Stiles' life in the past month had been the definition of bat-shit insane, freaky twilight zone. His best friend had moved away. Allison, of all people, had become the only thing anchoring him to the earth. Jackson and Lydia had become his personal chauffeurs. The pack, which had expanded by two, suddenly found it okay to come over to have awesome, but impromptu gatherings. And his dad turned out to be the epitome of fucking awesome.
After that whole social gathering, Stiles had pretty much expected the pack to disperse. For all its incredibleness, Stiles hadn't become attached to the idea of everything being okay. He saw it for what it was. An amazing night spent with the people that knew him well. But that was all that he saw it for.
Apparently, the tire slashing werewolf, whoever the fuck it was, didn't get that memo.
Monday morning, he'd pulled himself out of the remains of a two day hangover, and gotten ready for another long, boring week of school. He didn't have Scott to pester and bug him about getting to school on time anymore, which sucked because he never realized how energized that got him. Allison, for all her fun-ness, was a stickler for anything academic related (birthday situation over looked because it was Scott, who had the persuasive skills of a puppy….no pun intended) and he seriously doubted she'd want to hang out before school.
Sighing in boredom induced frustration, Stiles grabbed his back pack and head towards his jeep. He gave it a once over and pulled himself up and over into the driver's seat. He'd been prepared to leave when he felt something weird. He got out and instinctively looked at the tires. Sure enough there were two gashes in each of the passenger side tires. They were leaking slowly, and relatively smaller given the size from the last few times.
"Son-of-a…..COME ON!" Stiles reared back to kick the jeep, before remembering that it wasn't her fault that werewolves were insensitive, vandalizing heathens who held no regard for his personal property.
He wasn't sure if he should rant or cry pathetically. His dad was going to kill him. He exhaled slowly and turned just in time to see Danny and Mark pull up.
"Need a ride?" Danny asked, that stupidly sweet grin on his face.
As much as Stiles wanted to hate him, Danny was utterly unhateable. However, it didn't go unnoticed by Stiles that every time his tires were flattened, someone from the "pack" was there to help out. He glared at Danny when he raised an eyebrow and unlocked the back door. Danny was like the only one out of the pack- not including himself because he didn't think of himself as pack- that didn't drive some ridiculously nice car. It wasn't Jackson's Porsche or Lydia's BMW, but it did have air in all the tires and thus was in better shape than his jeep. He grunted, yanking open the jeep door and pulling his book bag out, before sliding in the backseat of Danny's Toyota. He was still pissed, but riding in the backseat while Danny and Mark sucked face at every single light and stop sign was still better than walking. Slightly.
*Allison was waiting for him at his locker after first period. She waited calmly as he jammed all his books into the given space before slamming the door closed.
"I don't suppose you want to give me a ride home after school," he asked with a grunt, walking towards their shared math class.
"Where's your jeep?" Allison asked. He didn't fail to notice that she didn't answer the question.
"Currently parked in my driveway, where it has been permanently as of late," Stiles answered, scowling.
"Again?" she inquired. "huh."
"Huh? Huh? All you can say is huh? They're out to kill my baby!" Stiles exclaimed, ignoring the looks he got in return. "It's sickening."
"What's got you in a crappy mood?" Lydia asked, joining them as they sat down.
"Oh, like you don't know! I know how you pretty types are. You're the ones who enforce the trust aspect, luring me into a false sense of security. Then BAM! You and your circle of criminals attack my baby!" Stiles explained, pout firmly in place.
"Someone slashed his tires. He rode here with Danny and Mark," Allison explained. Stiles wasn't surprised by Lydia's seemingly surprised face. She was a great actress. He turned in his seat and purposely ignored her and Allison's quiet giggles as he continued to glare pitifully at the board.
*Stiles sat down at their usual table during lunch and looked pointedly at Jackson. He ignored Allison's foot kicking at him under the table and continued to bore into Jackson's skull. "Is there a reason why you're looking at me like I killed your baby?" Jackson asked after another minute or so of intense glaring.
"Funny you should say that," Stiles shot back without missing a beat.
"What the hell is your problem Stilinksi?"
"Someone slashed his tires. He rode here with Danny and Mark," Allison answered. "I'm getting tired of having to repeat that."
"Don't tell me you think I slashed your tires," Jackson replied incredulously, eyebrows risen up to meet in the center of his forehead.
"Are you confessing?" Stiles asked, not breaking eye contact. Jackson didn't scare him, never really did. And he was sadly mistaken if he thought that whole "I'm a werewolf, hear me roar" thing was going to make him pissed his pants. He rode to school with Danny and Mark, who were worse with PDA than Scott and Allison used to be.
"I didn't do it. I wouldn't touch that piece of shit with your hand, let alone my own!"
"Take that back!" Stiles shouted, insulted.
"Whatever. I didn't spend a perfectly good Saturday night hanging out with you just so you could accuse me of doing childish crap like that." Stiles watched, taken aback by the angry and, dare he say, hurt tone of voice Jackson spoke with as he left the lunchroom.
"What's his problem?" Lydia asked, sitting down next to Allison. She followed Jackson's angry exit with her eyes, before rolling them. She shook her head and turned to everyone else. "Is it that time of the month?"
"Stiles hurt his feelings," Danny informed, stealing a fry of Stiles' plate. He narrowly missed the fork that shot out as defense. "He's sulking because he wants Stiles to like him. Stile's is really mean today."
"He has to have feelings before I could hurt them. If anything, I may have bruised his over-inflated ego," Stiles defended himself. It was Jackson. Jackson was naturally an asshole to everyone, but couldn't stand a little payback? Was he supposed to feel sorry for him all of a sudden? And it wasn't like Stiles had threatened to press charges- he'd need to have proof to do that- like he should be doing. Jackson, the big drama queen that he was, was just looking for attention. He's a dick, Stiles thought to himself as he chatted idly with Allison. That didn't stop him from apologizing to Jackson later on in Biology. He ignored the fact that he was able to breathe easier when Jackson flashed a crooked grin.
*When the end of the day rolled around, Stiles didn't fail to notice that Allison had just magically disappeared into the sunset. He frantically looked around for a familiar face, anyone who would take pity on him and drop him off at least within walking distance of his house. His search grew in urgency when he spotted Mark jogging over to him. I'm invisible, he thought when his search came up short, and they can't see me. He isn't looking at me, he's looking through me. Please god, let him be looking through me. Wait, if he walks through me does that count as penetration? Oh god, let him see me! I don't want to have sex with Danny's boyfriend.
"Stiles!" Mark shouted, stopping a few feet in front of him. He looked at him a little strangely when Stiles let out a sigh of relief, but continued. "Need a ride back?"
"Ummmmmm, no. Allison's giving me a lift. She's probably waiting for me right now so," Stiles rambled before trailing off.
"She told us that she couldn't," Mark explained "Come on, it's no big deal."
Stiles inwardly cursed Allison's ditching skills and Mark's powerful persuasion skills as he got in the back seat. Once again he was forced to endure a live performance of "Make Stiles Sick" starring Danny and Mark and their tongues. He resisted the urge to fall out the car and kiss the ground when they finally, finally made it to his house.
"So this has been awesome. Not awkward in the least. And you're both getting out the car…" Stiles watched with horror as Mark and Danny got out the car and came towards him with open arms. Oh my god, he thought. I'm the meat in a gayboy sandwich. It was the most awkward hug he'd ever gotten and it lasted a good 6 seconds longer than he felt was friend appropriate. When it was over, Danny and Mark both started towards Danny's car as tough they hadn't just had their arms wrapped around him in a hugging orgy.
"Wait," Stiles called out, a thought suddenly popping up in his head. "Does this mean I'm attractive to gay guys?" Danny and Mark ignored him in favor of driving off.
*Later that night Stiles laid on his bed staring at the ceiling. He'd talked to Scott, who was no help at all and laughed insanely hard at his misery. After saying goodbye, he thought over the invents of the day and made a mental checklist:
1. There were at least two werewolves slashing his tires; a bigger one and a smaller one
2. Lydia was an awesome actress
3. Jackson was a diva and apparently had feelings that could be hurt.
4. Allison sucked as a friend and had ditched him in favor of doing god knows what
5. Mark and Danny were too comfortable with ignoring one's personal space
6. He still didn't know if he was attractive to gay guys.
Just when he thought his life couldn't go any higher on the This Is Fucking Weird scale. Reality was a bitch…