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Scott was frazzled. The woman at the counter had gotten annoyed with him five minutes into their conversation about ‘light’ perfumes and he still had no idea what to get Allison. His phone was in his hand before he thought about, automatically dialing.
“What’s up, Scotty?”
“Help. Stiles… I have no idea what to get Allison for Valentine’s Day. I mean, it’s our first, and we just got back together again, and I don’t want to go overboard but I really, really wanna get her something nice and there’s no one here who wants to bother helping me and-”
“Woah woah woah, calm down, buddy. Breathless rants are my thing. Valentine’s Day present for Allison, right?” Stiles’ grin was easily heard through the phone, but Scott couldn’t be irritated by his teasing tone; he was used to his best friend making fun of him.
“Yeah. I was thinking perfume, but the ones that smell really nice and don’t bug my nose are way expensive. I don’t make that much working for Deaton.” He wasn’t whining… well, all right, he probably was, but why was everything so pricey?
“Ok, get out of Macy’s, dude. That’s so not gonna help you, and there’s nothing there that’s really Allison anyway. That’s more of a Lydia store. You’re gonna get a gift certificate to the sporting goods store and wrap it inside the softest purple sweater you can find.”
“Purple… Allison’s favorite color is purple.” He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. It was Allison.
“Yes, dumbass, I’m aware. You’ve only told me about 50 times. This week.” Stiles was laughing. “Now, go, get Katniss her nifty toys.” He hung up before Scott could say bye, still laughing in his ear.
“Ok… gift certificate, then sweater.” It took him less than 20 minutes to make use of Stiles’ suggestions, and he still had some money left over, which was exciting. He wandered the mall, stopping in front of a novelty shop with an over the top ‘sexy’ display in their window made up of muppets and beer bongs. He couldn’t help but laugh and take a picture to show Stiles at school before wandering inside.
Valentine’s Day at Beacon Hills High was a mess of balloons and flowers, nerves and tears. Frankly, it was irritating when he wasn’t a wolf. Everything was amped up now, and it was more than a little disturbing to find out who ducked into the third floor bathroom for a quickie and who over-indulged in Valentine’s chocolate. That wasn’t even counting the overwhelming mingle of too much cologne and perfume. He shook his head and made a conscious effort to mute his senses. He caught sight of Allison and Stiles laughing about something near Stiles’ locker at the end of last period. He loped over and wrapped an arm around Allison’s waist, kissing her quickly before tossing a grin at his best friend.
“Hey, guys. I got stuff. Um. For you. Uh, I mean… for both of you…” He knew he was blushing as he dug into his backpack, pulling out two wrapped gifts and handing them over.
Stiles blinked and looked at Allison, then shrugged. “Heh, I got something too.” He opened his locker and handed them each a box of chocolates. “Ok, I gotta run, Dad’s actually home tonight and we’re doing dinner. See you tomorrow!”
It wasn’t until around 9 that night that Scott got a text.
From Stiles (9:03pm)
Ha ha, asshole, real cute. Wait till Katniss finds out I got underwear before she did.
To Stiles (9:06pm)
Glad you liked them. Wear them for me, dude. Xoxo
From Stiles (9:11pm)
Dude, you are the actual worst, I just laughed hard enough to wake dad. See ya tomorrow, fuzzbutt.
Scott honestly forgot about his Valentine’s gift with everything going on. Or, he did until about two months later. The pack was getting better at bonding and Stiles had pushed for group nights that weren’t ‘all about mayhem, murder and Molotov cocktails, seriously guys, c’mon!’ Unsurprising to anyone, Derek let the spastic teen have his way and they started scheduling bi-monthly ‘pack nights’ at the loft that were just about having fun and hanging out.
After the great Trivial Pursuit debacle (that ended with Lydia throwing the board across the room and Stiles spraining his wrist when he fell off the back of the couch while he tried to crow in victory), it was decided that board games were banned and neither Lydia nor Stiles was allowed to pick the activity for the evening. Poker had been Isaac’s idea, and since no one really had money to burn, Erica suggested strip poker.
“Trip kings!” Stiles slapped his hand down on the table, grinning widely. He had been dealing with a heavy losing streak and was down to just his pants and underwear. Derek had lost his shirt, but was holding his own otherwise. Isaac and Scott were still fully dressed, Lydia was missing her skirt. Erica was far too comfortable in nothing but a matching red bra and panties, snuggled against Boyd who was sitting in his boxers. Allison was blushing, sitting at the table in a lacy bra and boy shorts. Scott could admit it was a little distracting, but he forced himself to pay attention to the game.
Derek smirked, laying his hand down. “Flush.”
“Aww, c’mon… you’re cheating!” Stiles was blushing brighter than Allison, shifting awkwardly in his seat.
“Oh, shut up and drop them, Stilinski. The rest of us would like to keep playing.” Lydia snapped at him, grabbing the cards to shuffle.
“Easy for you to say…” He muttered mutinously under his breath, standing up and stripping out of his pants. Scott’s eyes widened, and soon the whole table was laughing.
Stiles sighed, holding his hands out and turning in a circle. The bright pink boxer briefs fit him perfectly, and almost matched the flush across his face and spreading to his shoulders and chest. The white waistband was patterned with garish, sparkly hearts, and Scott remembered thinking that Stiles would find them over the top and hysterical. He hadn’t really thought he’d wear them, though.
“Stiles… what… where the hell did you get those?!” Erica was leaning heavily on Boyd, gasping through her laughter.
“They… they were a gift. And it was laundry day like, three days ago. I wasn’t exactly planning on stripping tonight.”
Even Derek’s lips were twitching, his eyebrows in his hairline as he tried to control himself. “A gift from who, Stiles? I mean… umm, they’re really… you?” He snorted.
“Uh, me. They were a…” Scott blushed, still laughing. He wasn’t supposed to wear them…
Allison covered her mouth, giggling. “They were a Valentine’s day present. Stiles… we both…” She giggled again and grabbed the pale lavender sweater. “We wore our gifts on the same day.”
“Oh for the love of…” Stiles was laughing too now, shaking his head. “I quit. You’re all just jealous that I can pull off hot pink asshuggers.” He wiggled his butt at the table, yelping when Derek’s hand connected sharply with his right cheek.
“Sit the hell down, idiot. Not everyone wants your ass in their face.”
Stiles grinned and Scott groaned. That was the grin of ‘let’s go find a body’ and ‘I know how to help you’. That was a grin that never meant anything good.
“Awww, what’s wrong, Sourwolf? Having trouble keeping your hands to yourself?” Stiles leapt across the table, planting himself in Derek’s lap.
“No, I’m having trouble keeping my dinner down.” Derek smirked, his hands automatically holding the teen’s hips to keep him from falling.
“Ha ha ha, I look amazing and you’re just jealous with your ‘black like my soul’ boring underwear.”
“Stiles…” Scott whined a little, really not wanting to think about Derek’s underwear.
“My underwear are not black… and neither is my soul; really, Stiles?”
“Pffft, prove it.” Stiles yelped again when Derek picked him up and deposited him on the floor before standing up.
“Fine.” He grinned, turned, and dropped his pants.
“Holy mother of…” Stiles stared, and Scott could only laugh at the incredulous look on his best friend’s face. Derek was wearing dark green boxer briefs, with a picture of Oscar the Grouch directly in the center.
The table erupted in laughter, and Derek smirked at Stiles over his shoulder. “Happy now?”
“Uh, yeah dude… you could say that…”
“Aaaaand, that’s our cue to leave.” Scott got up and handed Allison her clothes. “Let’s go, time to go. Stiles, please, at least wait until we’re out of the building.”
“Yeah, no promises, buddy.” He grinned over at Scott, winking. “These are officially my ‘get lucky’ boxers… just so you know.”
The room emptied out surprisingly fast, though no one missed the deep groan before the loft door was slammed shut.