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Werewolves + Alcohol = Married?

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Stiles groaned as he woke up. He felt nauseous and his head was pounding. Damn Scott and his stupid bachelor party. The last thing he remembered was he and Isaac dropping Scott off in his room. Derek had been nice enough to hook them up with some "just for werewolves, Stiles, I'm not kidding. And make sure they don't drink too much," alcohol for the occasion. Though he'd showed up at the last minute to "supervise" and glare at them all moodily from a table in the corner of the bar all night as if they were still teenagers. Stiles remembered that. They'd all managed to graduate college without Derek hovering, so he really didn't see why Derek was still such a stick in the mud. With those stupid eyebrows of his. And those abs and, nope. Not thinking about that. Back to reality. Stiles lay there for a moment, and then looked around. He was naked and there was someone in bed with him. Which he did not remember.

The sheet was over their head, so Stiles had no idea who it was, and given the state of his own head, he didn't really feel like moving to see who it was for at least a little while.

"Muurgh," the lump moaned and Stiles knew exactly who it was. Isaac. His least favorite psychotic wolf (his favorite was Erica).

Hopefully he wasn't naked too. Maybe Stiles had just gotten naked and gone to bed.

Isaac rolled over and flailed his arms about, freeing himself from the sheets, giving Stiles an eyeful. So much for wishful thinking.

Isaac opened his eyes and started as he saw Stiles. "What the fuck are you doing in my room?" he growled.

"My room. And the better question is why are you naked?"

But before Isaac could answer, Stiles's phone started ringing, causing him to cringe and flail about as he tried to find it without Isaac seeing him naked.

Scott was calling and Stiles saw that he had almost fifty unread texts.

"Dude!" Scott said when Stiles answered. "What was up with you and Isaac last night?"

"Scott, not all of us are werewolves. Please lower your voice."

"Erica said you guys kissed," Scott whispered. "They didn't kiss! They played tonsil hockey for two hours and then disappeared!" Stiles heard Erica call out in the background.

"Well that explains why he's naked in my bed," Stiles quipped.

"What?" Scott screeched. Stiles threw his phone across the room, too loud.

"I heard that," Isaac mumbled from where he was still lying motionless on the bed, thankfully still covered by the sheet.

Stiles could hear Scott calling his name from where he'd thrown the phone. He grabbed a pair of boxers off the floor, pulled them on, and grabbed the phone.

"I'll call you back later, Scott," he hissed into the phone before hanging up. He turned to Isaac, who was lazing in the bed rather attractively. Ugh, no, bad thoughts. It was Isaac."So," he paused, "what do you remember?"

“A lot of shots. Erica being Erica. Thinking you looked really hot and kissing you. And confetti? Honestly I’m pretty sure I started doing body shots off you, so I don’t remember much after we started kissing. You?” Isaac looked up at him with his wide eyes, and Stiles noticed a bit of the aforementioned confetti in his hair.

“Shots and dropping Scott off at his room before we went back down to the bar. Nothing after that.” Stiles leaned forward to pick the confetti out of Isaac’s hair, but stopped short as he noticed a glint on his finger. It was a ring. Allison’s wedding ring, to be exact. “Why the fuck am I wearing Allison’s wedding band?” Stiles blurted out before he could stop himself.

Isaac’s hand whipped out and grabbed Stiles’s hand, pulling him forward. There was a ring on the hand that was wrapped around Stiles’s.

“Shit,” Isaac murmured under his breath. “Scott’s going to kill us.”

Stiles let out a nervous giggle. “At least we didn’t lose them?”

Isaac scrambled out of bed and Stiles stared up at the ceiling to avoid seeing Isaac’s very naked ass.

“Stiles,” Isaac hissed out. “We got fucking married!” Stiles’s head whipped around and saw Isaac waving a piece of paper in the air. Stiles snatched it out of his hand before sitting down heavily on the bed, breathing fast, trying to think.

“Okay, so they know we hooked up, but nothing else. Let’s just go down to breakfast and pretend like everything is fine. I’ve got a wedding to be best man for, and for you to be a groomsman in. I mean, isn’t it a thing at weddings that people in the wedding party hook up?” Stiles laughed but stopped when it turned high pitched with hysteria.

Isaac sat down next to Stiles and put a hand between his shoulders. Stiles shivered at the feel of Isaac’s warm hand moving up and down his back. Isaac leaned over and nuzzled at Stiles’s neck. “You’re hot when you’re freaking out,” Isaac murmured before kissing him and pushing Stiles back down onto the bed. Isaac pushed a hand into the boxers Stiles was wearing, and growled against his mouth, “These are mine.” Stiles gasped into Isaac’s mouth as Isaac stroked up and down his dick, pushing the boxers off with his other hand. Stiles grabbed at Isaac’s ass. His truly wonderful ass. Damn werewolves and their fucking asses. Far too good looking for his sanity.

Stiles was lying back on the bed trying to catch his breath. Isaac’s mouth was a beautiful thing.

“We’ll figure it out after the wedding,” Isaac said, as he searched the room for his clothing. Stiles no longer felt guilty about ogling Isaac’s ass. He was technically his husband after all.

Stiles sat up quickly just as his phone started ringing. “Oh shit! The wedding!” he cried out, leaping for his phone.

“Having a nice morning?” Erica drawled as he picked up.

“Oh fuck you,” Stiles replied fondly.

“Lydia says if you don’t get your asses down here in the next twenty minutes you don’t get any food until after the ceremony,” Erica informed him.

“Right, okay. We’ll be right down,” Stiles said.

He got dressed hurriedly and was about to open the door when Isaac hissed, “Rings!” Stiles stopped short. He’d forgotten he was even wearing it, it somehow felt natural.

“Right. Have you seen the ring boxes anywhere? They were in nice little boxes last night.”

“You mean these?” Isaac held up some crushed velvet and plastic. Stiles groaned in response.

“Whatever let’s just take them off and put them in the safe. I’ll tell Scott that you sat on them or something. I’m supposed to have them in my pocket during the wedding anyways.”

Stiles went to take his off, but it was stuck. Isaac had already opened up the safe and was putting his inside.

“Shit, it’s stuck,” Stiles whined, pulling on the ring.

Isaac stood up and took his hand, saying “Let me help with that,” before giving him a wicked grin and sliding his mouth over Stiles’s finger, tongue circling the ring before pulling off with a pop. Isaac pulled the ring up Stiles’s finger and twisted it at the knuckle, which slid it loose from his finger.

He moved away and put the ring in the safe while Stiles was still standing there, dumbfounded. Stiles was definitely in some deep shit.