The first time it happens, it’s an accident.
Stiles has just moved into his new duplex, and like many college students away from home, is always excited to get mail. So when he sees a box on his front porch, he just takes it inside and tears into it.
It only occurs to him that he should have checked the label when he’s staring down at a brand new dildo, bright pink and almost glowing in its plastic package. He looks at it for a long moment, and thinks what?
He’s pretty sure he hasn’t gone on any drunk shopping sprees lately, so with trepidation, he folds the flap back over. The name on the shipping sticker is, as he suspected, definitely not his.
It says Allison Argent, and he groans. Fuck, this is going to be so awkward to give back.
He has a hope, for just a second, that he can tape it back together and she’ll never know. But when he tries to close it back up, it’s clear that he was…a bit too aggressive.
There’s nothing for it, then. He folds in the flaps as best he can, then heads out the door. Conveniently, Allison lives right next door, in 303, so he doesn’t have far to go. He rings the doorbell, and has to resist the abrupt urge to drop the box and make a run for it.
Before he can, I beautiful girl answers the door. She smiles at him a little curiously, and he can’t help noticing her dimples.
“Um, hi,” he says quickly. This is gonna be awkward, and he just wants to get it over with. “Are you Allison Argent?”
“I am,” she says, giving him a questioning look.
Now that he has confirmation, Stiles rushes through the rest of it. “Look, it was an accident, but your package got delivered to my porch—” he holds up the tattered box, “—and I opened it without checking who it was for. I’m really sorry.”
It takes Allison a second to work through his words and put everything together, but he knows the moment she does, because her eyes go wide and her cheeks get pink. “Oh,” she manages to get out, looking flustered.
“Seriously, so sorry,” Stiles says again, gently pushing the box into her hands. “But, um, it was nice meeting you. Have a good day!” And then he gives her a little wave and jets out of there.
Figures that would be the kind of first impression he’d make on his cute neighbor.
The second time is also an accident.
It’s been more than a month since the first time, he’s been busy with his classes, and his dad and Scott have sent him a couple of care packages.
So he rips open the box on his porch without looking. Again.
And once again, he’s staring down at a dildo. This one is metallic blue, and has a vibrator in the base, he notes as he stares down at it. While he wouldn’t put it past one of his friends to send him a sex toy as a gift, he’s fairly certain that this isn’t actually for him.
“Fuck,” he groans when he sees the name Allison Argent again.
This time, when Allison answers the door, she seems to understand before he even says anything.
“I swear I’m putting the right address!” she says as she stares at the box, looking embarrassed.
“You totally are,” Stiles says reassuringly, handing it over. “I’ll, um, make sure to check stuff more carefully. Sorry again.” Then he beats a hasty retreat.
He’s pretty sure he hears Allison say something, but by then his legs have carried him around the garage to his own front door, and he doesn’t want to go back. Allison probably already thinks he’s weird enough.
The third time it happens, Stiles actually checks the address label. He sighs, feeling a little annoyed at careless postal workers. And even though he hasn’t opened the package, he can still guess what’s in it. He’s familiar with these particular nondescript boxes by now, and he knows it’s from the same sex toy company as before.
It’s probably another dildo.
He’s a little tempted to peek inside, because he’s a pretty nosy person, but he resists the urge.
Instead of ringing the bell and making a big deal of it, he just leaves the box on Allison’s porch with a note attached.
I realized this wasn’t mine BEFORE opening it. Shocking, I know.
Your neighbor, Stiles.
He hesitates, wondering if he should write anything else. He’s temped to write have fun! But he’s not sure Allison would appreciate his sense of humor. He ends up just rolling his eyes at himself, and goes off to class.
When he gets back later that afternoon, there’s a note stuck to his front door.
Thanks, Stiles. I appreciate you bringing it by.
Your friend, Allison.
It’s embarrassing, but he stares at that little message for a solid five minutes, a silly smile stretching across his face.
The fifth time it happens, Stiles decides he’s going to say something. It’s a Saturday afternoon, so he figures Allison will be home.
“Hey,” he says when she answers the door. “Um, could we talk?”
Allison darts a glance at the box he has tucked under his arm, then nods and says, “Sure, come in.”
She gestures toward the couch, and he sits down, setting the package at his feet. “Look, I don’t mean to be forward, but you seem to be ordering a lot of stuff, so you’re clearly not finding what you’re looking for. Oh, god—unless you’re a sex toy reviewer, something that never occurred to me until just now—”
To his relief, Allison starts laughing. “I’m not a sex toy reviewer, but that does sound like a fun job.” She sits down next to him. “I broke up with my boyfriend a few months ago, and while I don’t miss him,” she says, leaning in conspiratorially, “I do miss the sex.”
“Oh,” Stiles says, nodding in understanding. “Well, if you tell me the kind of thing you’re wanting, I could probably give you some recommendations.”
Allison’s eyebrows go up. “Are you gay?” she asks curiously.
“I’m bi,” Stiles corrects. “And yes, I have tried a lot of dildos, I can give good suggestions.”
“I wasn’t gonna ask,” Allison says, grinning. “But thanks for telling me.”
She brings in her laptop, and they end up perusing the sex toy website together. Stiles helps her pick out a few things, and they end up talking about their experiences, both with toys and with other people. It reminds Stiles of the 3 AM conversations he and Scott used to have, when they’d whisper about sex, and what kind of things they thought they were into.
It’s kind of nice to be talking about that kind of stuff in broad daylight, with someone who’s totally sober. It makes Stiles feel trusted, even though Allison barely knows him.
He loses track of time, and only realizes how late it is when his stomach rumbles. “Oh, I better get going, I gotta cook dinner,” he says, setting Allison’s computer down.
She looks like she wants to tell him something as she holds open the door, but she just says, “Thanks for your help, I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, anytime,” Stiles says cheerfully. “Hope everything works out,” he adds, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
Allison laughs, and playfully pushes him out the door.
It’s no surprise that the box still ends up on Stiles’ front porch. But this time he knows exactly what’s in it, so he has no urge to sneak a peek.
Instead, he draws a smiley face on a post-it note, and sticks it on top before he carries it over to Allison’s front door.
On Saturday when he goes out to get his mail, there’s a note stuck to his door, telling him he can come over if he wants to.
He’s just woken up, so he goes back inside and takes a shower before he heads over. He’s glad he had the forethought, when Allison pulls him into a little hug before he sits on the couch. At least he knows he doesn’t stink.
He and Allison talk about school and the upcoming midterms for a while, before Stiles decides to just ask. “So? How’d you like my recommendations?”
“They were really good,” Allison says immediately, and Stiles feels relieved. “Way better than the stuff I was picking. But it’s still…not exactly what I’m looking for. I think I need to have sex with a real, actual person,” she says, mouth quirking up. “Though I’m not looking for anything serious right now.”
“You’d have no problem finding someone at a bar or club,” Stiles says. He’s pretty sure Allison would have no trouble picking up any guy she wanted.
“That’s a little too casual,” Allison says, grinning. “I don’t want it to be a one-time thing, and I don’t really want to have sex with a complete stranger.”
“Okay,” Stiles says, because that’s totally reasonable. “Maybe one of the guys in your class? Some other acquaintance?”
Allison gives him a long look, and Stiles wonders if she expects him to find a guy for her. But then she says, “I don’t suppose you’d be interested?”
“I—in having sex with you?” he blurts, because he has to clarify. With things like this, he wants no misunderstandings.
“Yes,” Allison says, sitting closer. “Sex. With me. You interested?”
“Yeah,” Stiles says, because really? That’s the easiest question ever. But of course, his mouth has more to say. “Though there’s no guarantee of compatibility, and you might not like—”
“We’ll give it a shot,” Allison says, sliding into his lap.
She bears down on his shoulders, pushing him back against the couch, and kisses him as she rolls her hips against his. He can’t help the noise he makes, but Allison doesn’t seem to mind.
Stiles discovers that she’s assertive and strong, and he’s more than happy to let her take the lead. Before he knows it, she’s got his pants and underwear off, and she’s rolling a condom down on his hard cock.
He has just enough time to notice her cute, lacy underwear before they’re gone, and she’s back in his lap. His head tips back and his eyes flutter shut as she settles down, slowly taking him inside. She kisses him, filthy and hot, before she starts to move.
He can tell she’s working to get herself off, but he doesn’t mind the ride. She must have been pretty turned on, because she comes fast, shuddering in his arms as she clenches around him.
He runs his hands down her back and tries to keep still as she recovers. She kisses his cheek, his jaw, and then says, “You mind if I try for another?”
“No, of course not,” he says, feeling a little breathless at the idea of her coming around his cock again.
She starts moving, but this time it’s a slow grind, and she feels so tight around him it makes his toes curl. He spreads his knees, and he can’t help the way his hips rock up into her, trying to meet her motions.
She loops her arms around his shoulders, and starts riding him in earnest, lifting herself up and sliding back down in little tiny thrusts. He knows her thighs must be burning, but she just keeps up the pace, gasping quietly into his ear.
He knows she’s close when her arms tighten around him, and her movements start to get desperate, almost hectic. This time she comes hard, her whole body jerking as she presses down onto him, driving him as deep as he’ll go.
She does a slow roll of her hips, and one of her hands steals down to touch herself. She shivers through the aftershocks, rippling around him, and Stiles feels so close he’s about to burst.
He hooks his hands under her thighs and lifts, just a little, just enough to give him room to thrust up. Allison keeps touching herself, moans against his neck, and he takes that as encouragement. There’s no way he’s gonna last, not after feeling two of Allison’s orgasms, so he goes as fast as his aching cock demands.
His hips surge up hard as he finally comes with a low moan, back arching and thighs clenched. Allison is still hold him tightly, and he slowly grinds up, feeling himself pulse inside her. He settles back against the couch, letting his muscles relax as he catches his breath.
Allison’s got her face buried against his shoulder, but she lifts her head after a moment, smirking. “I think that went great,” she says. “Want to do it again sometime?”
They have a lot of sex. A lot.
Allison is more insatiable then he would have ever imagined. It’s okay though, because Stiles is horny pretty much constantly anyway. It works out well for both of them.
They actually end up hanging out at each other’s places pretty regularly, so they can get some studying in between rounds of sex. It saves time, and it really motivates Stiles to get his homework done.
Sometimes they order takeout, and then put on enough clothes so as not to scar the delivery person. They’ll eat it while they watch tv, or sometimes one of their favorite movies, and it’s nice. He likes talking to Allison, likes being around her.
He has to remind himself often not to get attached, that Allison wants to keep things casual.
It doesn’t really work, but he tries.
Sometimes they go to Ihop in the middle of the night to eat stacks of pancakes, and sometimes Allison kisses him slow and sweet, even when they’re not having sex. She’s fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder, and sometimes when they’re lounging around half-naked, she’ll gently trace the patterns of his freckles.
She’s sly and smart and beautiful, and he likes her a lot.
Stiles is flat on his back in Allison’s bed, and her hand is tracing his hard cock through his jeans when she says, “I think we should go on a date.”
Stiles just blinks at her, a little distracted because her palm is still cupping him.
She grins, moves her hand down his thigh. “I’d like this to be a little less casual,” she says. “What about you?”
Stiles tries to be cool, even though his heart is jumping in his chest. He sits up slowly, and says, “I want you to be my girlfriend. And I want to go on a lot of dates with you.”
Allison straddles his waist, smiling. “Just what I had in mind,” she says, and pulls him into a kiss.