Most of the time, being single is awesome. Allison has embraced her independence since her last serious relationship fizzled, and she’s grown a lot being on her own. Sure, it’s lonely sometimes, but that’s what her friends are for. She has hobbies that keep her busy, too. She’s happy and satisfied with the path that her life has taken since graduating high school nearly five years ago.
Two years at Beacon Hills Community to get her criminal justice degree and then a brief stent in the police academy have led to her now being a proud member of the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department. Her dad is shacking up with her ex-boyfriend’s mom, which is still a bit surreal but something she and Scott have gotten used to over the years. Fortunately, there hasn’t been any talk of marriage from her dad or Melissa because that might make things a little too weird. Considering the fact that she and Scott still occasionally get together for some no-strings sex whenever they’re both single and horny, she definitely doesn’t want to deal with him being ‘stepbrother’.
It’s creepy enough that Lydia and Stiles have to deal with that considering their whole one-sided-crush for years turned close friends turned flirtation that never actually went further. It’s lucky for them, but Allison still finds it awkward that they’re stepsiblings now considering she’d been privy to their dirty thoughts about each other back in high school. They work better as friends, though, so it’s fortunate they never went there for other reasons, too.
Thinking about her friends’ odd pseudo-incestuous high school relationship isn’t distracting her from her current problem, which both sucks and worries her because she should be preoccupied if she’s thinking about Lydia and Stiles. Instead, her mind is veering into territory that makes her realize she’s going to actually have to take action this time. The only time Allison thinks being single isn’t all that great is when she really just wants to be fucked hard and thoroughly but isn’t in a mood to go pick up some guy at a club or risk using some app to find a date. She’s got a couple of friends with benefits that she can reach out to occasionally, but Isaac’s currently in a relationship, Brad’s living in LA now, and Kyle’s working overnights at the fire station.
That only leaves Scott. Allison looks at her phone and considers calling him. He’s in between girlfriends right now, and she knows he’d probably agree to a night of fun. The issue with Scott is that his idea of ‘no strings’ can be complicated depending on his current emotional state, and she’s just not sure if sex with someone else is worth the risk of dealing with ‘maybe we should give it another try’ Scott. She has an excellent collection of toys, after all, and there are definitely no potential issues if she gets off using those instead of Scott’s cock.
But the toys aren’t doing it tonight. That’s the whole reason she stopped in the middle of masturbating to remind herself about the good parts of being single and unattached. With a low groan, she decides that it’s worth the risk because she’s going to end up punching something if she doesn’t get a cock inside her soon. There’s always a good chance that Scott’s in one of his ‘single is great’ moods and will totally be down with a quick fuck. At least, that’s what she tells herself when she scrolls through her phone list and types out a quick text.
Hey babe. Want to come over? I’m horny, and you’re single.
After sending the text, Allison reads it back over to make sure it sounds okay. Blunt and to the point is good because then Scott can’t get any mixed signals. She notices the three little dots appear that indicate he’s typing a response and is a little surprised because Scott isn’t usually the type to have his phone right there to answer. That’s when she notices the contact name at the top of the screen and has to bring the phone up closer to make sure she’s not making a mistake.
“Fuck,” she mutters, quickly scrolling back and checking. “Allison, you stupid twit.” She’d sent the text to Stiles, not Scott. Stiles. Her partner at the sheriff’s department now knows she’s horny and trying to find a booty call. Damn it. She’d have rather sent that text to just about anyone else because Stiles is likely typing up some sarcastically sassy response right now that’s going to make her want to laugh at the same time she’s going to be embarrassed to death.
The three little dots disappear but no text appears. Allison frowns at her phone and checks her in-box, just in case there wasn’t a notification. Nothing new has arrived. Then she checks the message again and sees the three dots once more. There’s a quick whistle as Stiles’ text arrives, and Allison bites her lip as she reads it.
On my way. Don’t start without me, babe. Is babe a thing we’re doing now, by the way? I’m not complaining. Just curious.
Allison blinks at her phone and then rereads the message. With a frustrated growl, she hits the phone button. She shouldn’t be doing this, but she hears the ringing before she can listen to the voice in her head telling her to hang up and just text him back like it’s a joke.
“What do you mean, you’re on the way?”
“Um, I mean that I was lying in bed marathoning cheesy disaster movies on Netflix so I’m now trying to clean up so I can come over and help you with that problem?” Stiles drops the phone, cursing in a way that makes her lips twitch even as he fumbles with it and drops it again. “Sorry. I’m trying to pull on my sexy jeans, and they’re too tight to get into without using both hands.”
“Both hands?” Allison clears her throat and then figures what the hell. “Do you often have to use both hands, Stiles? I mean, Malia once told us…nevermind.”
“Nevermind what?” Stiles’ tone is too smug for him to not know what Allison was insinuating. “But, yeah, you might need two hands. Is that going to be a problem, Ali?”
“No. It won’t be a problem, at all,” Allison says, licking her lips as she leans back against her pillows. “You don’t need to bother with the tight jeans, though. A pair of gray sweatpants is a lot hotter.”
“Seriously? Baggy old sweatpants is sexier than tight jeans?” Stiles scoffs, but she can hear the note of curiosity in his voice. “Says who?”
“Says me.” Allison taps her fingers against her inner thigh. “Sweatpants are soft and cling to nice asses so well, plus they do wonders for cocks.”
“Allison!” Stiles snorts out a laugh before he clears his throat. “God, are we really doing this?”
“I don’t know, Stiles,” she whispers. “Are we?”
“Do you want to?” Stiles is quiet, like he’s not sure he wants to hear her answer, and Allison hates the way that hint of vulnerability makes her heart twist. “I mean, your text caught me by surprise because, sure, there’s always been a little something between us since you and Scotty broke up, but you’ve never been interested before.”
“I was texting Scott,” she admits, listening to him suck in a breath as if her words had somehow punched him in the gut. “I didn’t realize I’d sent it to you until afterwards. I, uh, well. I thought you’d probably tease me, and I’d play it off as a bad joke, and we’d pretend it never happened.”
“A joke. Right.” Stiles’ voice is flat, and she cringes because she totally fucked this up. “Well, I’m definitely on board with forgetting it happened. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, I guess.”
“Wait!” Allison sits up and bites her lip, her fingernails digging into her bare skin. “Don’t hang up, Stiles. I don’t want to forget. You’re right. There has been something there, and I’ve spent the last few years ignoring it, but I don’t think I want to anymore.”
“You’re horny, remember? You wanted Scott, but you’ll settle for me because I happened to answer.” Stiles groans, and she can hear the sound of something thudding on the floor. His shoes maybe? She’s not sure.
“No, that’s not true.” Allison drags her fingers through her hair. “I mean, yeah, I am horny right now, and I was planning on an ill-advised booty call with my ex-boyfriend, but somehow I texted you, instead.”
“And what am I then?” Stiles asks, a slight hint of humor in his voice for the first time in several minutes. “A next boyfriend?”
“That’s awful.” She tries to groan but laughs a little, too, and ends up snorting. She hears Stiles laugh and rolls her eyes. “Asshole.”
“Yep, but I never claimed to be a saint, Ali. Are you sure you don’t want to forget?”
“I’ve had a saint before, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be, Stiles. I think maybe I need something a little more real,” she says quietly, letting a bit of her own vulnerability out for once.
“I’m definitely real,” Stiles says. “Not perfect or saintly at all. An asshole with a sarcastic streak and mental baggage that you probably don’t want to deal with, but I don’t ever act like something I’m not.”
“We all have mental baggage. Look at our lives over the last few years and it’d be shocking if we didn’t.” Allison bites her lip. “So, do you want to come over?”
“No, I thought I’d risk the humiliation of asking you to come over to fuck me for shits and giggles,” Allison deadpans.
“Damn it. I’m not into booty calls, Ali.” Stiles sighs. “I wish I was. I mean, I was willing to try, when I got the text, but I also sorta planned on winning you over with my excellent oral skills, huge dick, and insatiable need to please my partner so I could ask you on that date I’ve been thinking about since you finally broke up with Isaac.”
“What changed?” Allison realizes that she’s curling a lock of hair around her finger and makes a face at herself because really? She’s not some smitten fourteen year old talking to the boy she’s got a crush on. Only, well, maybe there’s a very slight similarity if she’s being completely honest with herself. Which she doesn’t like being when it means facing up to her rather complicated feelings about Stiles fucking Stilinski.
“You called me, remember? It sort of ruined the mood to find out you meant to text Scott and weren’t actually ready to confront this whatever that exists between us.” Stiles fumbles with the phone. “Sorry, I almost dropped it again. “If you ever feel like trying this, giving a relationship that’s not just casual sex a chance, I hope you’ll text me first without it being a mistake, but I think, all things considered, we’re probably better off doing like you suggested earlier. We can pretend this never happened. Good night, Ali.”
“Stiles, you can’t—“ She hears the phone click and wants to scream. So she does. She lets out a little scream that actually does make herself feel better, and then she throws her phone on the bed. “He can’t just say shit like that and then hang up before I can reply. That’s so fucking annoying.”
Reaching for her phone, she opens up her texting program and sends Stiles a text that says exactly that. Then she rolls over onto her back and stares at the ceiling for several quiet moments before she looks at her phone and sends another text to him.
Want to come over? I’m hungry, and we’re both single. So maybe we can like go out for dinner or something date-like?
Allison isn’t sure if she’s doing the right thing, but she’s nervous about him ignoring her text, so she sort of thinks maybe it is. When there’s no response for several minutes, she sends another text.
Stiles. I love being single but I think I might love dating you just as much. I’m ready if you are.
“If he doesn’t answer, I’m kicking his ass before work tomorrow.” When she sees three little dots appear, she waits, smiling widely as she reads his response.
On my way, babe. I’ll bring Chinese from that place you love. Gray sweatpants, right? Don’t do anything naughty without me.