Life In Him I Live (Stiam)

Chapter Five

There is one good thing about having a household of werewolves in your house.

They make excellent construction workers.

Stiles sat on the living room couch, silently gloating as he watched Ethan and Aiden gather up the repair supplies Stiles found in the attic.

Jackson was supposed to help them, assigned by Scott, but he skipped out the second Scott went outside with Issac. He went with Lydia somewhere, who took Kira with them.

It was just Stiles and Liam sitting around. Liam was on the other side of the couch, in the same position he was in when he sat in the back of the jeep.

The wall was repaired almost unnoticably, save for the roughness of the cover-up. Stiles was pretty sure that his dad wouldn't notice, if he kept the lights turned off.

As the Twins began to head up the secondstory stairs, Stiles looked over his shoulder at the two. "Have you two seen Sour Wolf around?" Aiden's lip curled into a small smile, as Ethan glanced at his brother.

"Not since yesterday," he said with a shrug, as he readjusted his grip on the large bucket holding all the supplies. "Now that I think about it, he wasn't even here," the other twin added.

Stiles nodded, propping his arm up on the top of the couch. "I'm sure he's chasing a rabbit or something." The twins, taking that as an end of the conversation, continued their journey upstairs.

Stiles turned to Liam, who looked like he had just seen a ghost. The darkness from outside cloaked the inside of the house, and Stiles could see Liam perfectly from the Gibbous moon shining light through the front windows of the house.

"Why the long face, champ?" Stiles asked, jutting out his lower lip. Liam turned his head towards Stiles, his eyes acting like reflectors from the low light. "Don't call me that," he said flatly. Stiles raised his eyebrows.

"What? Champ or that you have a long face?" Liam glared at him, and Stiles held up his hands in surrender. "Just trying to make conversation."

As much as it hurt to say it, Liam had to. "Then don't. Just... stop trying to cheer me up, okay?" Liam returned to his previous position, which Stiles is beginning to think that could be the equivelent to Derek's scowl.

He sighed, lowering his hand from the couch and sliding into Liam's personal space. Despite the way Liam sat, Stiles could see his shoulders visibly relax.

Making a mental note of it, he leaned a bit closer, and suprisingly Liam didn't lean away like anybody else. Liam didn't even glance his way either, which confused him.

Finally, Liam spoke. "What are you doing, Stiles?" Stiles leaned away almost instantly. "Nothing."

Liam rolled his eyes, then winced. "Your dad is about a mile away."

Stiles waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. Werewolf mojo, got it." He pushed himself off of the couch, and started to stand by the door. "Don't pee on the couch, okay Fido."

Liam scowled, forcing himself not to smile. He knew one thing, a thing he doesn't understand nor wants to deny.

He was utterly, completely in love with Stiles Stillinski.

.........

When Stiles's ears picked up the sound of his dad's heavy boot steps, he opened the door before John could even grab the handle.

"Hey dad!" He said a bit too enthusiastically, causing John to furrow his eyebrows.

"What did you do?" He said without a beat, taking his gun belt off and setting it on the coat hanger by the door.

When Stiles looked at the couch again, Liam was nowhere to be found, and no evidence shown where he went to. He rolled his eyes, before returning his attentioin to his father.

"Nothing, actually," Stiles said as his dad went to the kitchen, completely ignoring the wall.

John went to the fridge, digging through food ingrediants and drinks to pull out a can of soda. "Then what do you want?" He asked as he wiggled the bottle cap off.

Stiles stood in the doorway, stuffing his hands into his front pockets. "Could a couple of my friends stay over? Just for the night, I mean."

John leaned against the counter, taking a swig of his soda. It wasn't as good as beer, he concluded, but it didn't let him get drunk, which is a good thing.

"You mean the pack?" He said, and there was an audible thump on the stairs above them.

Stiles nodded, pointing towards the roof. "Yeah. I mean them."

John sighed, finishing off his soda and dropping the botttle cap in it. "If you don't destroy my house or make a lot of noise, you won't even know that I'm here."

Stiles grinned, hugging his father with one of their Stillinski man-hugs. "Thanks, Dad."

John nodded, always a man of many words. "Tell Scott I said to keep you out of trouble."

Stiles nodded, running his palms over his pants legs. "Will do."

John tossed his can into the recycle bin, before heading towards his office. He stopped, before turning around halfway. "And if you're trying to fix a hole in the wall without me noticing Stiles, at least do it right next time."

Stiles's smile faded instantly. "Dammit, you two." He looked towards the ceiling.

"No cursing, either." John shouted from his office.

Stiles threw his hands into the air. "Of course."