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Stiles rubs his hands over his face. Fucking hell. Fucking hell. He shouldn’t be freaking out like this, he really shouldn’t. In the past week, he’s shared rooms and sometimes a bed with Lydia, Kira, with whoever pack member’s name he picked out of the little black box. It’s a pack bonding exercise, one the Ito pack needs now that so much has changed. For a week, Stiles managed to luck out and not be paired with Brett. Tonight, the young alpha finally picked his name out of the other eight in that stupid box.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Stiles lets out a breath and locks eyes with his reflection. “It’s only weird if you make it weird,” he whispers as if that somehow fixes the painfully massive crush he has on the guy. This couldn’t have happened yesterday? When there were two beds? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck . Stiles licks his lips and takes a deep breath. “It’s only weird, ” he repeats, narrowing his eyes slightly, “if you make it weird.” He’s gonna make it through the night without any issues at all, and tomorrow, he can spend the day with his grandparents and get some distance to Brett. It probably won’t hurt. After all, they’ve traveled through Europa for a week already, and they still have two more to go. They spend every minute of every day together, which is fine in theory, but Stiles has hit the limits of his social battery a while ago — having to share a bed with his crush is not helping at all.
A knock on the bathroom door startles him. “Stiles, you okay?”
That’s a matter of definition. Stiles takes a breath and pushes away from the sink. “Yeah, yeah… I’m fine.” He glances at his reflection one more time, nodding to himself. This is fine. He can do it. Plastering a grin on his face, Stiles opens the door. “Just lost in thought.”
Brett furrows his brows. “You’ve been lost in thought a lot those past three days.”
“It’s just late,” Stiles replies with a shrug and pushes past Brett, “and I could really use some sleep.” Something that’s so not going to happen tonight; not with Brett sleeping on the same fucking mattress.
Brett clears his throat, following him to the bed. “I know Lori’s been on your ass about our stay in Poland,” he says, looking surprisingly guilty almost as if it’s his fault Lori get a little too excited about planning their trip.
Sighing, Stiles folds his arms over his chest. Lying to Brett has never been something he liked doing, and to be fair, beating around the bush right now feels like shooting himself in the foot. “I’m just… exhausted.” Stiles sits down on the edge of the bed as well, realizing he’ll feel every single one of Brett’s movements. “I need time to recharge from all of that social interaction.”
“Oh.” Brett is silent for a few seconds. His eyes dart across the room, and he presses his lips together. “You want me to leave?”
Stiles opens his mouth. This could be his chance to get out of this night without an awkward awakening. But he can’t. “No.” Stiles shakes his head for emphasis. “It’s fine. I can recharge on the train to my grandparents. Maybe I’ll stay with them tomorrow night and meet up with you for breakfast again.”
Tipping a finger against his leg, Brett studies him for a moment. “I don’t know how to feel about you going alone.”
Stiles chuckles, also a little condescending. The guy trusts him to be his emissary yet believes he’ll get lost taking the train to his grandparents. “You know I’m fluent in Polish, right? And that I’ve taken this train from Warszawa to Łódź at least once every year as long as I can remember?” To be fair, he’s not talking about his roots all that much, but he hopes Brett did his due diligence before choosing his first emissary.
Again, Brett is silent for a moment. He opens his mouth, grimaces, and looks at his legs. “Well…”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Talbot.” This guy should know better, he really should. Stiles shakes his head with a huff. “You gotta vet me properly before trusting me with your pack.”
“But it’s you .” Brett quirks a brow, and there’s the ghost of a smile on his lips. “You saved me before. I don’t need to make sure you’re one of the good guys. Besides, I know you.” There’s something odd about the way he says it, something Stiles’ heart latches onto — and he hates it. He’s crushing on Brett more than enough already.
Stiles gets to his feet, allowing his nervous energy to get the best of him, for now, at least. He needs to get his shit under control soon, or Brett is going to pick up on something he’s not supposed to. “This is how you get yourself killed.”
“You’re doing a fantastic job of hearing me while not actually listening to what I say.”
Stiles makes a dismissive gesture. “I’m listeni—“
Brett grabs his hand and pulls him closer. In fact, Stiles finds himself right between the alpha’s legs, shins all but bumping against the bed. Oh. Brett brushes his thumb over the back of Stiles’ hand. “It’s you,” Brett repeats a little quieter this time. “It’s been you for a while, and don’t get me wrong—“ he’s not looking at him when he talks, instead follows his fingers tracing invisible lines on Stiles’ body “— at first, I only wanted to get in your pants, but now I really just wanna have you in my life.”
A nervous laugh bubbles up, but Stiles manages to bite it back. “You just want to have me in your life?” He shudders at the touch, at the fingers dragging down his chest.
Brett grabs his waist, two fingers slipping under Stiles’ shirt ever so innocently. Their eyes lock and there’s a thing very new on Brett’s features. “You’re taking my words a bit too literal.” His expression softens.
Stiles cups Brett’s neck with both hands and leans down. He can’t help it. Not at all — and judging by the sound Brett makes in the back of his throat when their lips meet, he’s been waiting for this as well. Fuck. He really could’ve had all of this before, huh? At this point, Stiles should probably stop being so awfully insecure about love and sex and being out of somebody’s league. Because he’s clearly not out of Brett; and honestly, if that’s the case, Stiles is very much in everybody else’s league as well. Knowing that does wonders for his confidence already.
Pressing closer, Stiles explores the werewolf’s body with his hands and mouth, letting Brett do the same until they’re both falling apart in a way Stiles never did before.
Humming quietly, Brett runs his fingers down Stiles’ spine. “I’ll bring you to the train station.”
Stiles huffs out a laugh. “My train leaves at six am,” he says instead of reminding Brett that he’s perfectly fine going to his grandparents on his own because he has done it more than enough times, on his own too. It’s not that scary when you speak the language.
“I wouldn’t see you tomorrow otherwise,” Brett mutters, and there’s actually an audible pout in his tone — and audible pout. Brett Talbot is fucking pouting. “Let me at least treat you for breakfast.”
Stiles licks his lips, tilting his head back to look at Brett. “If I agree will you let me sleep?”
Grinning, Brett kisses the corner of his mouth then curls around him like an over-sized puppy. “Maybe.”
It’s hard not to find it endearing. “Fine,” Stiles agrees, shaking his head a little. “Breakfast it is then.” And Stiles would lie if he said he’s not excited about it. Even though he’s exhausted, some people are easy to be around despite being mentally drained. Looks like he’s found another one. Closing his eyes, Stiles shuffles closer to Brett and smiles when the arm around him tightens.