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He’s seen Malia around today, of course; she’s in at least three of his classes, since the whole nogitsune problem pulled him out of AP Bio and straight back into a non-honors Chemistry class, but he doesn’t really think anything of it. Sure, they totally — did things, in Eichen, but his new theory is that Eichen house is basically Vegas. What happens in Eichen stays in Eichen. He’s actually pretty convinced she doesn’t remember when she corners him just before lunch, slamming his locker into the one next to it before frowning slightly. Stiles blinks.
He wants to say hi, and sound really really cool (do coyotes even have the concept of cool? like, amongst themselves?) but what comes out is actually: “Breaking school property because of super strength is not an excellent start.”
Malia grits her teeth at him, and he throws up his hands, leaning back. “Not the worst start! Just work on control. This mere human world isn’t ready for you yet.”
She blinks, grinning, and he likes the way her smile is a little bit feral. Is that weird? It’s probably really weird, but it’s also really hot.
"You seemed to handle me just fine. I thought more humans would be like that, but they’re not. You’re different."
Stiles has no idea what to do with that information. “Thank you?”
Malia tilts her head. “You’re welcome. Isn’t that kind of a weird response? What am I giving you welcome to?”
He definitely should not have thought of an innuendo there, but he’s a seventeen year old boy, he can’t be blamed. Malia’s eyes flash blue and she pulls him down, her mouth warm on his. His eyes stay open, widening slightly because oh my god Eichen house is so not like Vegas.
She pulls away, frowning slightly. “You’re not kissing back. You wanted me to kiss you, right? I could smell it.”
"No, no! I mean yes! Yes, I totally — I mean, you can kiss me any time — "
Malia pull him in again, and this time he manages to get over the shock enough to kiss her back, eyes sliding shut as he slides a hand up her neck. She’s tall enough that he doesn’t even have to crane his neck, and she’s warm and totally into him holy shit.
"Good," she says as she pulls away. "I think I want to kiss you all the time."
Stiles swallows hard, because okay.
They’ve been training with Scott for a couple weeks, now, and Malia’s got the hang of basic shifting. She can extend her fangs and claws at will, make her eyes go blue so she can see better, the whole shebang. It’s the human stuff that’s a little harder for her.
"This book is ridiculous!" Malia throws it down on the table, and the Sheriff and Stiles both look up at her. They’re not even surprised anymore. The Sheriff has an open case file on the table and they’re going through it, trying to decide if it’s a supernatural case or not, trying to decide whether or not to alert Scott.
The Sheriff picks up the book and reads the cover. “The Scarlet Letter is ridiculous?”
Malia huffs, crossing her arms. “For one thing, it’s got all these stupid words in it I don’t understand. What’s the point in using some big made up word for something when you could just say the ground was dusty or whatever? But Stiles said I should just use my dictionary, so I’ve been trying despite that annoyance.”
"What’s the other thing?" Stiles asks, reminding himself to teach Malia how to work her smart phone so she can use the dictionary app.
"Why does the whole town care who Hester had sex with?" She’s learned to control her language around the Sheriff, because Malia is totally delighted by swearing, but it’s a recent thing. Stiles breathes a sigh of relief that she didn’t say fuck. "I mean, she was completely disloyal to her husband, but you humans are so caught up in sex all the time that you care when and how other people have it? That’s just stupid.”
Lydia will be thrilled. “I agree?” The Sheriff says, but it sounds more like a question. He learned quickly that the best way to deal with an angry Malia is not to argue.
"Sex doesn’t even have to come with feelings, I mean, mating season is just mating season until you find the right mate.” Malia turns to Stiles, an earnest look taking over her features. “I don’t mean us, Stiles. I have feelings when we have sex.”
The Sheriff chokes on air, and Stiles’ mouth falls open, looking at his father and trying not to sink into the floor like he kind of wants to as his eyes turn back to Malia. “Me too,” he replies carefully. The Sheriff actually pushes his chair out and leaves, and Stiles has a moment to worry about his heart before Malia kisses him and his mind goes stunningly blank. He likes it when she kisses him like this, when he has to lean back and tilt his head as she hovers over him. She runs a hand through his hair before pulling back, eyes flickering towards the stairs.
"Your dad’s pacing, should I apologize?"
Stiles’ mouth is still open in shock. This situation is way too much for him to process right now. Malia frowns.
"Sheriff!" she yells, "I know you’re muttering about teenagers and stuff, but I think I broke Stiles?"
The car ride back with Derek is really awkward, especially since he’s sitting in the middle seat and has no idea who Lydia and Kira are. He likes Kira most, though, probably because she’s nicest. He doesn’t like the way Malia smells, but when she said he smelled like a dusty coffin everyone got mad at her. This whole ‘people’ thing still isn’t really making sense to her.
They stop for gas on their way back to California, after an awkward moment at the border (The Sheriff has connections at the border, so nothing uncomfortable is asked, but it’s still weird and it smells a lot like drugs, so she’s glad to be gone) and about forty-five minutes on United States soil. When Stiles hops out to fill the tank, Malia gets out too, coming around the car and watching as he sets the latch so he doesn’t have to hold onto the pump.
When he turns she slots her mouth against his, and as always Stiles’ mouth falls open in surprise, his hands flailing for a moment before settling on her waist. She has to remember to ask about that, sometime. “I would never leave without you, Stiles.” She has to say it a lot because she recently learned the word emphasis and she’s pretty sure it applies, here and now. She didn’t like the tremor of fear in his voice as he shouted after her; he should’ve known she’d come back.
"Okay," he breathes, thumb rubbing circles against her side through her t-shirt. "Then stay."
Malia gets in the jeep without a word, shaking but not from the cold. Whatever they’d been fighting took her sight when it took his voice, and even with them back, Stiles can tell she doesn’t really feel right. He talks, and whether it’s because he was so scared he never would again or just to comfort her in the silence, he can’t be sure. “We’ve seen a lot, okay, but that was probably the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
She doesn’t say anything, and her knees are pulled up against her chest. They’re only ten minutes from the house, and he can tell she won’t be going home tonight. He takes her phone from the glove compartment and texts her dad not to worry before trying again.
"I mean, seriously, no mouth? And the mind-talking thing was super weird. If I never experience another freaky mind meld in my life I will consider it well lived."
There’s no response, but that’s okay, because a few minutes later they’re pulling into the driveway and getting out of the car, Malia following him inside. His keys jingle nervously in his hands, and it takes him a few tries to get them in the lock before she slides her hand into his. He breathes a sigh of relief and turns the key, barely pulling it out and setting them down when Malia pulls him back and kisses him.
He’s so surprised he doesn’t know how to respond for the first few moments, but her kisses are biting and wild in a way they never have been before. Stiles tries to rise to meet her and mostly succeeds, matching her tempo and making a low noise when she pulls his lip between her teeth.
She drags him upstairs (the Sheriff’s still at the crime scene, making sure no one knows they were there) and pushes him down onto his bed, crawling over him until her hair is a curtain from the outside world and mouthing at his jaw, hands tight on his biceps. “Talk to me,” she demands, and he stammers out something unintelligible as his hand travels up her spine.
"You’re really — distracting — " he manages, because her hips are twisting and seriously, how does she expect him to be coherent right now, she literally pounced.
"Don’t lie, you talk during sex all the time," she bites back, sitting up so she can take off her shirt and fling her bra to the side. Now he’s really, really distracted. He leans up to kiss her again but she pushes him down, frowning hard.
"I thought you weren’t going to talk again."
Stiles breathes out like he’s been punched, because honestly, neither did he. Her eyes drink him in, and he looks at them, wondering how awful it would’ve been to have gone without them.
"I’m always going to keep talking,” he promises her, taking her hand and guiding it carefully to his throat so she can feel it vibrating with the words. “Can’t stop me now.”
Sometimes he thinks he’ll never stop being surprised when she kisses him, because for all that she’s abrasive and crass and entirely alien to him most of the time, in these moments, she gets it.
"I love your eyes," he says against her mouth, and she smiles like he’s finally got it right.
After what is possibly the 100th time they have sex, Malia rolls over, making a sated sound before kissing him soundly. Stiles jolts, half asleep and in the realm where he’s not quite sure if he’s dreaming because no one ever wants to kiss him, until he remembers where he is. Malia frowns and tucks her head against his shoulder, finger following a path up his chest.
"Why do you always do that?"
Stiles frowns, blinking at the ceiling. “Do what? What?”
"You act like you’re shocked whenever I kiss you. And I asked Kira, but she says Scott isn’t really surprised when they kiss because he knows she wants to kiss him all the time. Do you not know I want to kiss you all the time?" Malia sits up, looking concerned. "Is this another human thing I’m getting wrong? I thought I was doing pretty good, now."
Stiles is now officially awake, and he runs a hand through her hair, blinking when she leans into the touch. Sometimes he doesn’t even know how she’s real.
"I guess I’m just surprised because I’m not really used to people wanting to kiss me."
"But they do," Malia tells him, confused. "I can literally smell their jealousy in the hallways when I corner you between second and third period. You’re attractive and naturally talented at sex, why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?"
That is way too much information for him to process. “People are jealous that you kiss me? Are you sure they aren’t jealous of me kissing you, because I would totally be jealous of me if I wasn’t me, okay, and — “
Malia cuts him off with a kiss again, laughing at his surprise. “There’s some of that too, but don’t sell yourself short, dumbass. Besides, if I didn’t want to kiss you I wouldn’t.”
That he can believe.
"You were my first kiss. I hear that’s a big deal to humans. If I didn’t want to kiss you I would’ve let you stew in your own attraction like I do with that boy from my English class — "
Stiles squeaks. “Which boy from your English class?”
" — so just stop with your weird insecurity and get that through your thick skull, okay?"
When she leans to kiss him again, he leans up to meet her, and feeling her smile against his mouth is totally, completely worth it.
He still blinks in surprise sometimes, when she’s just beat the shit out of a hulking creature in a fight and kisses him with blood on her lips, or when she walks up to him out of nowhere and kisses him just because.
But now, Stiles finds her during study hall sometimes, just to kiss her until he knows she’ll be thinking of him when he leaves. He kisses her against her locker and doesn’t care who sees them as her heel wraps around his ankle.
Every once and a while, now, he’ll surprise her too, just to laugh when her eyelashes flutter against his.