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Stiles Shipping Central Ficlet Exchange
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Published:
2021-08-28
Words:
1,500
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
8
Kudos:
245
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35
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1,757

In So Deep

Summary:

School starts in two days. First day of senior year! Stiles should be excited. He should be color-coordinating his notebooks, memorizing his class schedule, plotting how he’s going to guarantee himself one of the good parking spaces at the front of the lot every morning, getting a jumpstart on his college admissions essays. Hell, he should be busy thanking his lucky stars that he’s even survived long enough to make it to this point. There are a lot of things he should probably be doing.

Instead, he’s climbing the tree outside Allison’s bedroom window.

Notes:

for Stiles Shipping Central ficlet exchange!! finally some more Stallison, i've been saying i would write more forever and never gotten around to it XD but here it is!!!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

School starts in two days. First day of senior year! Stiles should be excited. He should be color-coordinating his notebooks, memorizing his class schedule, plotting how he’s going to guarantee himself one of the good parking spaces at the front of the lot every morning, getting a jumpstart on his college admissions essays. Hell, he should be busy thanking his lucky stars that he’s even survived long enough to make it to this point. There are a lot of things he should probably be doing.

Instead, he’s climbing the tree outside Allison’s bedroom window.

Allison is there, doing the kinds of things Stiles should be. There are three outfit options spread out haphazardly on her bed, a stack of textbooks and zip-up pencil case alongside them. She’s perched among her mounds of pillows, cross-legged, with a highlighter between her teeth as she scans her own schedule. Her hair is a tousled mess and the boxers she’s wearing in place of pants have a hole in them.

She looks beautiful.

Stiles was planning on knocking. But he’s never been great at sticking to his plans. He finds himself shoving the window open and tripping his way inside before he even realizes he’s made the decision to invite himself in. He catches his balance on Allison’s desk chair, swearing, and looks up to find her wide eyes on him.

Before she can say anything, Stiles throws out his hands and says, “Are we a thing?”

Allison blinks at him.

“I only ask,” Stiles goes on, “because, you know, school is about to start, and all our friends are gonna be there, and I need to know what we’re telling them—if we’re telling them anything at all! I don’t wanna get in there and make a fool out of myself if this is less of a thing than I think it is, o-or less of a thing to you than it is to me. Which is okay!” He forces a smile, flailing hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head. “It’s fine if that’s— I mean, we’re not exactly—”

Allison spits out the highlighter and stands up, effectively putting a halt to Stiles’ nervous ramble when she asks, “Not exactly what?”

Heat creeps into Stiles’ face and he’s suddenly regretting this whole conversation. “You know…” He shrugs helplessly. “We’re not, like…dating or anything. It’s just been…”

A summer fling? That’s probably the most accurate thing to call it, though it doesn’t really feel sufficient. What started out as training sessions, because Stiles was tired of feeling like the weak link in the pack, had somehow dovetailed into make-out sessions. Before he knew it, they were having some pretty amazing sex on a semi-regular basis. And it was great! He enjoyed all of that immensely, and he was pretty sure that Allison enjoyed it too.

But there was a reason that Stiles had never really done the “casual” thing before. He’s not a casual kind of person, and he knew he was in trouble the second he caught himself smiling when his dad asked if he was meeting up with her later, like it was just common knowledge that that’s where he would be—with her.

When he falls, he falls fast and hard. And that’s not what Allison signed up for when they started this.

She’s watching him now, this careful look on her face, like she knows that his stupid feelings are going to get hurt and is trying to figure out how to break it to him gently. They’re friends, after all, and packmates. It’s not like they can just go their separate ways and forget about each other. Stiles won’t even have time to lick his wounds properly before they’re back at the same lunch table. With both of her ex-boyfriends. One of whom happened to be Stiles’ best friend, who was out of town for much of the summer and whom Stiles has not told anything about this.

“Nevermind,” Stiles says abruptly. He drags a hand over his face like that’ll somehow scrub him free of mortification. “I’m just being— It’s fine. I’m gonna go. I’ll see you later. On Monday, I guess.”

As he lets his hand fall, already turning back towards the window, Allison’s smaller one comes up to grab it. He tries to retrieve it, but she tightens her hold and tugs him back.

“Stiles, what are you even talking about?”

“It’s fine!” Stiles says again, more emphatically. “We had a good time. Now, things can go back to normal and you don’t have to worry about—”

“Do you not want to be with me anymore?”

Stiles pulls up short. Allison’s grip is firm but her face is soft, pink lips parted and dark eyes settled unwaveringly on his face. He mouths at her, searching for words.

“With you?” is what finally comes out.

Allison’s eyes dart away, a nervous laugh escaping her. She squeezes his wrist.

“I mean, I know we never talked about it,” she says. “We didn’t, like, make it official or anything. But that doesn’t mean that we aren’t—”

“Are we?”

It’s a little embarrassing how eager that question comes out sounding, but the flare of warmth in Stiles’ chest is hard to tamp down on. It only intensifies when Allison smiles at him, small and sweet, and shifts her grip to tangle their fingers together.

“I certainly thought we were,” she says.

Stiles lets out a gusty sigh. “Oh, thank god. ‘Cause I was putting on a brave face, but I’m actually in pretty deep here, and I was not looking forward to— Wait, are those my boxers?”

Allison’s cheeks turned a fetching shade of pink. She holds her head high, though, and says, “Maybe.”

“I thought I lost those!”

“You did,” she says. “…Here. That time my dad got home early and you made a run for it half-dressed. Which, by the way, you really didn’t have to do. It’s only the werewolf boyfriends he wants to shoot.” She laid her free hand on his chest, swaying into him. “You, he won’t mind.”

Stiles takes her weight gladly, sliding an arm around her waist to bring her closer. “Yeah?” he asks. “You gonna introduce me?”

“Pretty sure he already knows you.”

“Yeah, but, like…as your non-werewolf boyfriend. If that’s what I am.”

Their hands slide apart and Allison reaches up to cup the nape of his neck instead. The pressure of it is weirdly reassuring, as is the gentle swipe of her thumb through the soft hair there. Stiles lets her pull him down into a kiss.

“Yes,” Allison murmurs against his lips. “That’s exactly what you are. And just so you know—” She kisses him again. “—I'm in deep with you too.”

“Deep enough to tell our friends on Monday?”

Stiles can feel the face she makes before she pulls back to look at him properly. 

“They kind of…already know.”

His yelp of surprise is neither manly nor dignified, but it is justified.

“I didn't know you thought we were being sneaky about it!” she rushes to say. “If I’d known we were keeping it a secret, I wouldn't have said anything, but I missed that memo.”

“Who all knows?" Stiles demands. "Lydia? Kira? Isaac?”

Allison nods to each name, expression getting more and more sheepish.

“Scott?” Stiles finally asks. “Does Scott know about us? He can't know! He would've said something!”

“I think he was waiting for you to say something,” Allison says. “He didn't wanna make things weird for you. He's fine with it, though!”

Stiles groans and throws himself face down onto Allison's bed, sending writing utensils flying. The mattress dips as Allison joins him. She pats his back comfortingly. Groaning again, Stiles rolls over and catches her hand, holding it against his stomach instead. 

“I've really been freaking out over literally nothing for, like, three weeks?”

Allison shrugs. “My bad?”

Stiles tries to maintain his annoyed face, but it's hard when Allison is biting her lip and looking so damn cute. He can't be mad at his girlfriend.

His girlfriend.

Holy shit, Allison is his girlfriend.

He sits up fast enough to catch her off guard, the kiss open-mouthed and deep from the start. They're both breathless when they emerge from it.

“You're gonna make this up to me,” Stiles says. “Preferably, with massive amounts of PDA.”

“Oh, is that so?” Allison asks, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “The gross kind?”

“The make-our-friends-super-uncomfortable kind. Right there in the cafeteria. Possibly right there on the lunch table. I feel like I deserve that, as the last one to know that we were even dating. I have earned some public indecency.”

Allison laughs until she falls over, dragging him down with her into her mound of pillows. The clothes get kicked off the bed, the textbooks tossed aside, and the schedule forgotten. Stiles gets his boxers back.

This is going to be the best year ever.