❝ * 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 - STILES STILINSKI.

𝐢𝐢𝐢.

Puck made a face of disgust, "What? No. Absolutely not, Mojo is like my annoying little sister, I'm— dude, I'm not even straight."

The room went silent. For a second, Puck thought he'd just made a huge mistake. But then, Liam spoke up.

"Mason's gay, you should—"

"I swear to God, pipsqueak, if you say another word I'll throttle you. Just because we're gay doesn't mean we automatically should date, or be friends, or whatever."

"Okay, okay, can we please get back to the matter at hand? Garrett, keg, murderer?" Stiles interrupts, his voice a little higher than usual.

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Puck sat in the bleachers, eyes locked on Garrett. He had half a mind to tackle the kid right now, take him out before he had even a chance to attack Stiles. Or Scott, Liam, Kira, anyone. Or anyone, he reminded himself. Once the boy who'd been occupying his thoughts walked out on the field, his gaze was drawn to the burgundy jersey. He was lost in thoughts of mole-covered, milky white skin, and soft brown locks sticking up in many directions.

It wasn't until the stands roared with cheers that Puck was startled into reality. Growling at himself under his breath, he inhaled sharply, and stood up. He cheered along with everyone else, before sitting back down. He tried to keep his eyes on the game, on Garrett, waiting for something to happen, desperately trying to keep his mind off of Stiles. He caught the movement of Brett, injured, and once again could smell something different.

He didn't know what he was smelling, but he knew it was important. He made his way down the the field, catching up with Scott, Liam, Kira, and Stiles just as Stiles got a text from Lydia. She'd cracked another piece of the dead pool. Puck didn't even blink before he sprinted to the school, heading for the boys' locker room. Scott followed after him.

Brett was on the ground, gasping breaths and looking at him in panic. Zach, who had helped carry him in, was barely conscious nearby. Puck made the mistake of tunnel-visioning on the boy, his eyes flashing amber, taking a step forward. Before he could do anything, Violet, Garrett's girlfriend, had her thermal wire wrapped around Puck's throat. He thought he might be a goner, but she seemed to be letting up on him. Catching Scott's scent, her having heard Scott's footsteps, he under stood.

"You're not worth much. But him..." she smirked in his ear.

She let go of him, letting the tall boy fall to the ground beside Brett. She backed up, only to wrap the wire around Scott's neck as he walked in, but the true alpha was able to pull it away easily. He slammed her against a wall, knocking her unconscious. Stiles, panting and sweaty, was the last to enter the locker room, immediately dropping to his knees at Puck's side.

Coughing and rubbing the burn on his neck, Puck croaked out, "You should call your dad."

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Puck really wasn't liking this whole "crushing on Stiles Stilinski" thing. He shot off another text to Mojo, who'd been answering him sparingly, telling her goodnight and to let him know when she got home safe. He'd seen her at the game, in the enemy team's bleachers, wearing a sweatshirt with that fucking kid's name on it. He knew she'd go home with him.

The aforementioned Stilinski boy walked beside Puck, fidgeting with his fingers. Puck glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, catching the boy's soft brown eyes glinting in the moonlight. He quickly looked down, cheeks heating up. Stiles cleared his throat as they approached his busted, blue jeep.

"Do you... uh, want a ride?"

"Um. Yeah, that'd be great," Puck muttered back, tucking his phone into his pocket and giving a small, thankful smile.

He climbed into the passenger seat, the two boys sitting in silence for a minute or so. They watched the parking lot clear out, every so often stealing glances at each other. Stiles more so, practically staring at the boy. He'd already spent every moment with him memorizing all the pretty parts of his face, and had already logged every little twitch, shift, or fidget that seemed to be a habit. He felt like he was doing research sometimes, the way he took in all the information. Every detail of Puck's life, though they were far and few between, was tucked away in his brain.

"You know you need to start the car to drive, right?"

Puck's sarcastic comment broke Stiles out of a trance, jolting in his seat. "Oh, oh yeah, I— yeah."

Roscoe's engine roared to life after a few tries, and Stiles finally drove out of the parking lot. Quiet settled over them again, besides Puck giving the odd direction to his house. The boy lived toward the edge of town, so it'd be a bit of a drive. Puck pulled one leg up to the seat, resting his chin on his knee. Stiles shot a few looks over at his ripped skinny jeans and beat up sneakers, and the way his lips held a pout, and—

"Would you quit starin' at me like that?"

"I'm not—"

"Yeah, you are. Just... why?"

"I don't— I don't know. You're nice to look at."

God, he was gonna start rambling if he wasn't careful. Puck seemed taken aback by that, like no one had ever said something like that to him. He snorted, deciding to play it off like a joke.

"No, I'm not. Turn right, it's the fourth house down."

Stiles wanted so badly to disagree, but all too soon he was pulling up to the Puckett house. Puck hopped out of the car like the seat was suddenly ice cold, and shut the car door. He turned to walk away, but then spun back around to walk to the other side, to Stiles' side and oh God what was he doing.

The tall boy stared at his shoes for a moment, before leaning into the window and kissing Stiles' cheek. He then backed away, flashed his amber eyes at him, and said, "You're nice to look at, too. Tell anyone about this and I'll rip your head off. Bye, Stiles."

Then, Puck speed-walked into his house, the door slamming audibly. All Stiles could think was how in-character it was for the grumpy boy, and how badly he wanted his lips back on his skin.

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OKAY SO BEFORE Y'ALL ARE LIKE huH??? i know that it SEEMS ooc for my angry lil wolf to just SUDDENLY wanna kiss stiles BUT you gotta remember hes goin THRU it right now and i promise it'll make more sense soon when i have a chance to dive into his Thot Process on why hes like yo fuck it also yeah this is RUSHED and BAD bc i wanted to get another chapter out asap so AAAAAAAAAAAAA feel free to ask questions and stuff i'll happily answer ily all BYEEEEE

OH YEAH ALSO MALIA AND STILES ARE NOT TOGETHER OK BYE