Chapter Text
There is a system to Beacon Hills Private School for Boys. Literally a hierarchy, as Stiles was soon to find, and they apparently had female students. Stile would totally kill Scott for this, because he's been coming here for almost an entire semester and he has not mentioned any apparently female students falling from trees and flashing their extremely 16th century bloomers.
“Dude.” Stiles gasps and drops his backpack. “You’re a girl.”
“No.” The girl glares at him through ridiculously long and fake lashes, with a voice low enough to be husky...and maybe male...but damn that mouth was too way too pretty to belong on anyone but a female. “Don’t call me ‘dude’, that’s inappropriate.” Well. That’s a really feminine man then.
“PRINCESS” A really feminine man...who...is escaping through the trees.
“Did anyone else just see that?” Stiles asks the stampede of adolescent males as they look for the man/girl/thing. They mostly ignore him though, a couple of the students turning back to look at him, only flush and look away once more, and seriously, that' almost weirder than the man/girl-thing.
Stiles is walking down the hallways and looking for his class when it happens again. He sees a flash of skirt and a soft giggle that totally didn’t belong to the man/girl/thing, because that giggle was feminine. He’s stopped from investigating this almost-pattern by a teacher with glasses, and a permanent blush and even creepier grin.
“Mr. Stilinski? I’m here to show you too your class and give you an introductory tour.”
“OH, right, yes. Perfect, but you see I-”
“Yes, I can tell you might need some help making friends, but don’t worry I’m sure you’ll fit in just fine here, your obvious lack of intellect aside.”
“Uh, no actually. My intellect is fine. I know how to function, and I’m pretty sure that-”
“Yes, yes. Just fine” says Creepy-teacher-number-1 whose damn glasses won’t stop glinting, and that smirk is just...weird, and- “This is your homeroom. Mr. McCall, would you stand please?” McCall stands in next to his desk, uniform precisely placed upon broad shoulders, but the shirt is untucked. “Stilinski, Mr. McCall, here, is our Student Representative for the freshmen class." What the Hell. There's no way Scott's anyone's representative. In fact, Stiles would be that he would make a better representative. "He will be taking care of you on your first day here. If you could take a seat behind him.” Creepy-teacher-number-1 gestured blandly to the empty desk behind Scott, his best friend since middle school, and turned his back to the students, writing something on the chalkboard.
“Yo, Scott-cheroo. How’s it hang-” The desk next to Stiles’ new desk was inhabited by a strangely alluring male with feminine features and a congenial smile that almost makes Stiles weak in the knees, but he's ignoring that, because the dude in a dress didn't and he's not gonna change sexual orientations for a frankly-gorgeous smile. He turned to Scott. “Why are there girls in this school? Dad could’ve sworn this was an all-boys school. Seriously. I’m not joking, this is getting weird, and I don't mean weird in a-"
"Stiles. There aren't girls here, just princesses."
"Oh, like that makes it any better. Not GIRLS, Princesses. Obviously." Stiles turns to the gorgeous smiley-face, "I don't know what gender you are, sir and/or madam, but I'm going to bow to you on the off chance that you happen to be a Princess, okay?" Stiles bows, ignores the patiently raised eye-brow with the smile and tries to sit down on his desk- all in the same movement.
Stiles, along with the desk, crash to floor with a bang worthy of the beginning of the universe, and thus, loud enough to bring every boys' attention to the groaning and flushed heap on the floor.
"I am so sorry." Stiles gasps out, kneading his ass in an attempt to take some of the pain away. He doesn't notice that every single boy in the classroom has a flushed face, a few of them are fanning themselves with their homework, and Creepy-teacher-number-1's glasses have somehow gotten glinty-er. He hears a mumbled, 'yes, he'll do fine, mmm', but ignores it completely in favor of trying to right his desk once again.
"Sir?" smiley-eyebrow-face addresses the teacher.
"Yes Mr. Mahealani?"
"Stilinski will be in the P-room, correct?"
"I would ask Mr. McCall that, he's in charge of picking them out." Smiley-eyebrow-face glances over to Scott, who, to Stiles, looks oddly resigned as he nods his head affirmatively. "In that case, Scott, would you mind dropping Stilinski off with me when you're done when you're done showing him around?"
"Uh-yeah. Sure, I can do that." Smiley-eyebrow-face bestows a smile on Scott, who blushes just like every other boy in the room (and someone fainted...there was a thud...but no one's doing anything...oh god, what if Stiles dies here and no one does anything because people are fainting all the time).
-----
The school day passes surprisingly fast for all that the boys keep blushing and Stiles keeps tripping and falling in inappropriate positions and there are no more glances at people in skirts. Stiles is finally ready to collapse into a bed when Scott drags him over to smiley-eyebrow-face.
"Mahealani!"
"Hey Mr. McCall" And there goes Stiles' knees. Seriously. Smiles. Knees. Not happening.
"I'll just leave you two to it then, later Stiles, don't let Jackson hurt you!"
"Who's Jackson?" Stiles shouted back to Scott, but the floppy hair was already gone. He awkwardly turned to Mahealani; which was an oddly appropriate name because not only was it difficult to say, but it still rolled off the tongue like a champ. "So...where'll I be sleeping?"
------
Apparently P-room didn't mean the bathroom. It was literally the PRINCESS room, which-fine, okay, we get it. Stiles is kinda gay, and makes inappropriate amounts of eye-contact, but seriously, have you seen the ridiculous amounts of blushing-man-boys wandering around campus? If there was a joke going on anywhere it was on them....
at least it was on them until Mahealani opened the door and the man/girl/thing who was not a dude but totally a lizard (re; green eye shadow like a boss, or was pimp/ho more accurate in this situation?)
"YOU!" Stiles and the lizard shouted at each other, pointing fingers and flailing their arms about like Olympian swimmers.
"Oh, good, you know each other. In that case, I'm pretty sure that the Council is going to want Stilinski, here, pretty soon, so we might as well beat them to the punch and get this over with."
"Woah, woah, woah...hold up a second. I'm confused. Muscly-lizard-thing over here cannot be a cross-dresser. I mean, yeah, I get that his mouth is nobody's bid-niz, but his arms are cobras or something." Muscly-lizard-thing just looked sad.
"I know."
"Jackson, here, doesn't want to be a princess-" Mahealani ignored Stiles' 'no one's explained princesses to me yet either' and continued on "so he decided that bulking up would discourage any attention, and thus get him out of the job." Mahealani also ignored Stiles' mouthing of Job and physical question-marking of the air. "It obviously hasn't worked, and it simply gained him another demographic."
"Okay, your school is effed-up."
"Yeah, well. It's your school now too." Muscly-lizard-Jackson said grimly.
"I'm gonna tell my dad about this, there has to be some sexual harassment clause in this somewhere."
"Won't work, my dad's a lawyer, he would know." It was at this moment that the intercom released a garbled buzzing noise.
"Would Mssrs. Mahaelani and Whittmore bring ---- Stilinski to the Council room, please? I repeat-" but the intercom cut off before the voice could repeat itself. Muscly-Lizard-Jackson and Mahealani shrugged at each-other before grabbing both of Stiles' arms and taking him back to the main school building.
---------------------
"Ah. My favorite Princesses, East and West, how lovely it is to see you, please-take a seat." Creepy-Student-Council-President gestured to the small couch in front of him, crossing his legs delicately at the ankle, and ignoring the three other males that were staring at him hungrily. "Now, Mr. Stilinski, My name is Peter Hale and I have an offer for you-"
"-that I cannot refuse?" Stiles finished for him, but realized he shouldn't have as the ominous laugh that continued echo after Peter stopped was too scary to contend with.
"Absolutely. Before you say no, I am going to offer you these lunch coupons, 30 per month, and your books will be paid for, any sporting equipment you would like-provided you are a part of that sport, and no fees for any clothing you might wish to keep after you are done using it." Stiles heard Jackson give a small 'meep' despite his constant glaring, but ignored this in favor of accepting the offer.
"Whatever it is, I'm in."
"Good boy." Creeper.
"Woah. Wait a minute, not cool bro." Jackson cut in. "You do know that they're going to force you to wear dresses and shit right? They're practically taking away your manliness. Right now. You can't get out of it."
"Yeah," Stiles turned to Peter, whose too-blue eyes and too-white teeth were flashing not-quite-innocently enough. "What's with the dresses? Is that an everyday thing? Will I have to do this forever?"
"Oh, certainly not. Only freshmen, we find that the younger the student, the less developed the body is, thus making it much easier to hide certain...inaccuracies."
"Yeah, sure, whatever. Why the dresses though?"
"This is an all-boys school Stilinski. Were you expecting anything different?"
"Well-"
"Exactly. The dresses you wear are to ease the tensions of your year mates. Other schools get cheerleaders and pom-squads and some leg to look at during class. This school is no different, we just make you wear stockings. It's only for certain practices and classes; and any games that the teams make it to of course. All of your teachers know, so you won't have any problems with being late to class, as long as it's princess related."
"All right, so...the Princess thing wasn't a joke at my expense...it's just a really screwed up way of saying I'm attractive to gay males?"
"When you're in a dress."
"Great. When I'm in a dress."
"You can always back out Stilinski." Mahealani said, consolingly to him.
"Actually you-" Peter started, but Stiles cut him off.
"I'm in." He ignored Jackson's low growl. Having his things paid for would save his dad so much money, and if he ever wanted to go to college after going to a private school...well lets just say they were going to need it. Besides, the experience couldn't be all that bad...right?