→ show me what you're hiding,

[studmuffin]

When: October 2nd
Rating: PG-13.
Characters: Stiles & you.
Summary: i. Moving back in to the Youth Center ( The Revenge! ). ii. Trying to hit on the bartender.

( i. )

He's a coward, that much is obvious. Stiles waits until Derek is out of the cabin on his daily run to get in and grab his stuff. It's easy to shove everything into the jeep and drive off, easy to pretend he's fine with what happened. The thing is, he wants to be angry, he wants to punch someone or throw something. Because this happened all too fast and he's reeling and --.

And none of this was his fault.

So the jeep sits on the sidewalk as he carts a box of his books up the stairs. It's clumsy trying to get through the doors but he manages it, finds his way back to his original room. Maybe he shouldn't try to move on anymore.

( ii. )

He can't remember his name. He thinks it's something dumb like Clive or Lyle or something. But Stiles grins at him crookedly anyway and leans over the bartop. The music is a little too loud and he has to shout to be heard but at least he's being paid attention so there's that.

"Oh yeah man, of course modelling is a worthwhile profession. You've got like teeth and the hair, you'll be great."

Another drink gets slid his way and he salutes sloppily, spills himself into a stool. His hand reaches for a device and he looks up seriously, Liam (?) raising one eyebrow. "My friend wants an app where you can't drunk text people. That'd be great, right? Pass a test before you can make a dick of yourself."

Pressing the lock button, "Not there yet. Let me drink this and you can tell me about your awesome life."

Comments

ii

[lefthandedgenius]

"Stiles?"

Lydia is out with some co-workers for a drink and some blowing off steam, dressed to the nines for clubbing. She interposes herself at the bar, wedging herself in between Stiles and whoever is seated next to him, brows furrowed as she gazes into his face. He looks like he's feeling no pain, but more to the point, he looks to her like he's desperate to be feeling no pain.

"Hey," she says gently and with a sense of foreboding, "Out drinking alone? That's not cool. What's up?"

[studmuffin]

Stiles knows Lydia knows. Scott told him. But he doesn't really know how to approach it. So he looks her over and smiles and it's sweet and a little clumsy just like he always is.

"Lydia," he responds, singsong, "It's totally cool. And I'm not drinking alone. Me and Clark are totally drinking together."

It's Stuart comes the slightly amused reply and Stiles twists to point at him, "That's not a C or an L. Change it. And get Lydia a drink, quickly. Umbrella ones."

[lefthandedgenius]

She glances to the bartender briefly, gives a shrug - who is she to turn down a drink and looks back at Stiles instead. "Hey. Let's act like we go through all the parts where you insist nothing is wrong and I already know better and have to wear you down to find out what's really going on." Her tone is gentle. "Okay?"

[studmuffin]

He frowns, like a dog that isn't quite sure what it's done wrong. He picks up his glass, mouth around the straw as he shrugs. Ice clinks as he downs the liquid and then he speaks.

"Nothing's wrong."

Two new drinks get put down in front of him and he nudges Lydia's towards her. "It's nothing. Who are you out with? You look good. Are you like on a date?"

[lefthandedgenius]

Really? They're going to do this? She stares right back at him, and not even telling her she looks good is going to dissuade her.

Her instinct is to come out and ask what did Derek do but she keeps the words from spilling out.

Taking her drink, she replies, "Some folks from work. Just kind of blowing off some steam. The labs can be kind of stuffy sometimes." Sipping, she studies him through her lashes. "You shouldn't be drinking alone. And no, the bartender whose name you can't remember doesn't count. If nothing was wrong, you wouldn't be drinking alone."

ii, of course

[velveteenwolf]

Peter hadn't actually been planning on running into Stiles at the bar. It's just that they'd apparently had rather similar plans for the night. Peter doesn't know what to do about Roman. Later, sent via text, seems like a really shitty way to leave things, but when he'd stopped by their apartment Roman hadn't been there. And somehow, that makes it so Peter doesn't want to be there. It's only been a month, give or take, and yet somehow, his place doesn't feel right without him anymore.

So, going out and getting drunk at a bar somewhere was clearly the right answer. It only became a better answer when he recognized one of the faces at the bar. And so he slides up next to him, drops himself into the seat next to him and orders himself a drink whiskey, straight, make it a double.

"You look terrible," he decrees as he looks him over, not that Peter probably looks much better. He'd crashed on Julie's floor last night, so, yeah. Everything sucks.

yiiiis

[studmuffin]

"So do you."

Stiles leans on his elbow and looks at Peter, his expression thoughtful. He takes a deep sip of it and makes a hand motion for another one. "So it didn't go too well, huh?"

[velveteenwolf]

"He wasn't home."

Peter frowns at that, curses under his breath as he takes his drink, because fuck.

"So I stayed over at Jules'. It's dumb as shit, but it just didn't feel right. Having him not there."

Fuck, he feels like an idiot. And yeah, there's the bandage wrapping on his left hand because Peter made great decisions when intoxicated and upset.

[studmuffin]

Stiles looks down at the bandage but doesn't bring it up. If Peter wants to talk about it, he can.

"You want me to buy you another drink?"

i

[anunluckypenny]

Contrary to belief, Penny doesn't spend her every moment at the Welcome Center. With most of her volunteers gone, she's popping in and out of the Youth Center as time permits.

One of her trips to the Youth Center, she's slightly surprised to find a jeep parked outside. Someone's moving it, it looks like, and that's only odd because Penny typically knows about the comings and goings there. She moves past the jeep and spots Stiles, wrestling with the front doors and a box that doesn't look particularly light.

"Stiles?" She moves to catch one of the double doors. "What's up?"

[studmuffin]

"Hi."

Stiles smiles, readjusts his grip on his box and pulls a series of complicated faces. "Nothing much. Just moving back in."

[anunluckypenny]

"It's always great to have you here." Which she means, of course, even if she's a little worried about his reasons for moving back. The last time Penny checked, a whole bunch of Stiles' friends from home were in the City. Shouldn't they all be living it up together? But it's not her place to needle Stiles for details; she isn't his mother. Or, like, if she was his mom, she'd want to be one of the cool ones who doesn't get all nosy.

"Do you need a hand? I'm not much of a heavy-lifter, but I can hold doors and stuff. And if you're hungry when you're done, dinner's definitely a thing that can happen."

[studmuffin]

He'd probably just make up some lie like he does with all parental figures so it's okay Penny, you would be a cool fake-mom.

"Yeah, sure. That'd be good." The door and the dinner thing. "Have you guys been busy here?"

ii.

[phonetical]

Uhura's here alone tonight, no company because she just didn't want any. Sometimes she needs alone time; being surrounded by a full ship of people gets to be too much and even here, it feels like everybody, not just the crew, lives on top of everybody else.

It's stifling. And she needs a shotglass full of breathing room.

So when a man comes over to her, all greedy grins and cockiness, asking for a place in her world, Uhura waves him off with a half-cocked apology and nothing more. She's in no mood to explain why such a nice girl is in a place like this and by herself, no less. That would involve talking about her problems and she'd rather watch this drunk kid make a fool of himself to the bartender.

[studmuffin]

Stiles probably doesn't notice the half a dozen people in the bar. He's too busy trying to over someone and maybe under someone to pay attention. It's not going too well, the bartender is mostly just treating him with an amused vagueness, filling up his glass even though his ID is very clearly a fake.

( Of course, if he'd look around and see Uhura then he could get his Star Trek geek on. )

[phonetical]

Somebody should tell Stiles that there's no official drinking age in the City and he wasted his time (and money?) getting a awful fake ID. Uhura's seen better ones back in Academy and those were created on PADDs in the middle of the night with the lights out.

She frowns, both at his antics and the fact he's holding up the bartender when she could really use a refill. But closed mouths don't get fed, so she speaks up, nowhere near rudely, but just enough that the guy's act is broken long enough for the bartender to get some freedom.

"Are you even old enough to be out past curfew?"

[studmuffin]

Official drinking age or no, he still likes the classics. So when Uhura speaks he looks over with the sharp kind of spastic energy only he has. Then he grins.

"There's a curfew?"

[ ii ]

[bettercallit]

It's been a fairly long day, the kind that leaves him so tired he becomes restless and needs a little aid in the sleeping department, which is why he ends up entering the club.

The first thing he always does when walking into a building is to scope the place out, eyes scanning quickly but efficiently, and he would need to be blind not to catch Stiles slumped over by the bar.

He heads towards him quietly, not that it's necessary with the volume of the music and the crowds surrounding them, and he leans casually against the bar long enough to catch some of the conversation with the bartender.

"Rough day?"

[studmuffin]

Stiles almost jumps out of his own skin, his grip on the glass jerking enough to spill a little bit. He curses under his breath and places it on the bar, licks his fingertips before he focuses his shaky smile on Clint.

"Hey." The e is drawn out, long and stupid, "Hey Clint. You're totally here. Hi. Do you want a drink? My new friend can totally get you a drink."

[bettercallit]

His hand automatically comes up, not touching, but ready in case Stiles happens to throw himself too far back in his surprise.

"Or am I," he teases, but he helps himself to a stool, making himself comfortable. "Sure, why not." He nods to the bartender as he returns. "Beer."

[studmuffin]

"Don't Inception me."

He frowns and it's a complicated motion, his voice a little to the edge of slurring. "Not allowed."

( i. ) what else

[brobeforehos]

Mae comes into the room when he's finally gotten all the boxes out of the jeep, but only to add another box to the pile; the one she's carrying, which should not be called a 'care package', even though it is.

"Knock, knock?" she stands in the doorway for a moment before stepping in. "I mean no offense to the great people handling this place, but I brought you some extra stuff." She puts the box on the table. "I thought I'd get you some magazines like Playboy, but they're degrading and we both you know you've got a better imagination than that. However, I found these."

These, as it turns out, are still wrapped in their plastic package, fresh-off-the-shelves Batman bedsheets. "What do you think?"

awh mae

[studmuffin]

Stiles looks up when she enters the room, a small smile flickering into life but not exactly staying put. When she pulls out the bedsheets though, he grins.

"Hey, awesome. Where did you get them?" They'll totally help him get laid, thanks Mae.

[brobeforehos]

You think Mae Crawford doesn't know what to buy/bring her friends when they're in need? You'd be sorely wrong to think so. She's magic. "In a store, as with all things you can buy."

[studmuffin]

He pauses and then rolls his eyes, placing the pack on top of his box of books.

"They're cool, thanks Mae."