Wakatoshi looks up from his magazine in time to see Tendou bouncing through the door and throw himself onto Wakatoshi’s bed. He lowers the magazine some more, swivelling slightly in his chair to face his friend.
“Hello, Tendou,” he says. “Are you alright?”
Tendou rolls over until his face isn’t squished against Wakatoshi’s mattress anymore. Eyes half-lidded, he peeks up at Wakatoshi. “Are you reading the advertisements or actually reading the manga this time, Wakatoshi?”
He glances back down. “The manga,” he replies. “I finished the advertisements first, though.”
Tendou laughs. “You never disappoint, my friend.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Wakatoshi places the magazine on his desk, then considers his friend, who is still sprawled over his bed like a rag doll. He’s not even humming one of those pop songs the radio refuses to stop playing these days. Wakatoshi isn’t very used to seeing Tendou like this.
“Did something happen? Did Semi give up on tutoring you again?”
“Eh, who needs his help anyway,” drawls Tendou. He falls quiet. Silence isn’t unfamiliar between them, when it’s just the two of them. Wakatoshi waits for Tendou to collect his thoughts. “Hey, Wakatoshi-kun. Come here.”
Tendou waves at him until Wakatoshi leaves the chair and perches gingerly on the edge of the bed, next to Tendou’s knees. He’s only just sat down when Tendou suddenly grabs his arm, and then Wakatoshi is blinking up at his ceiling, a warm weight pressed against him.
DO YOU GUYS KNOW HOW LUCKY COCO IS? HE GETS PROBABLY TONS OF KISSES AND HUGS FROM NOT ONLY YOUNGJAE AND MARK BUT ALL OF THE OTHER MEMBERS. ALSO I AM OVER HERE FEELING JEALOUS OF A FUCKING DOG OK! ITS A DAMN DOG. LOOK AT THIS SHIT. OK I’M OUT.
Note: Has this
been done yet, or..? Summary: Stiles
runs into Peter while playing Pokémon Go. Literally.
Apart from representing a hot spot of supernatural fuckery,
Beacon Hills was not exactly a metropolis in a Real Life sort of way. Being a relatively
small town in Northern California, nothing of real human import every happened
here. All things considered, it was more of a Pallet Town than a Saffron City.
Stiles had learned the hard way after about two hours of
playing Pokémon Go that he would probably have to do some human sacrifices if
he wanted to lure any awesome Pokémon into this dump of a town. You could only
catch so many Weedles until it got real old, real fast.
Which was why, when he suddenly spotted a wild Vaporeon just
around the corner, he chased after it with a single-minded focus that would
have moved his primary teachers to tears. Holding out his phone in front of him
like a dowsing rod and barely watching where he was going (which wasn’t exactly
unusual for him), he took a right, almost stumbling over his own two feet in
his haste, getting closer, getting closer, and another turn to the right—
—and crashed right into something solid, warm and unmoving;
another human being.
There was a hitched breath and bit-off curse, but Stiles
couldn’t pay any attention, not now, because the Vaporeon was right there.
“Hold that thought,” he muttered and angled his phone just
right, now watching the Pokémon through the screen as it lounged lazily on the
other person’s shoulder.
“Stay still for a second,” he continued, not even
recognizing the person, even as he stared at them through the camera of his
phone. This was more important; he selected a Pokéball with quick thumb strokes…
There was a light commotion in the background now as another
Pokémon Go player stumbled onto the scene, and Stiles’ adrenalin spiked. He’d seen it first, god dammit!
A low snarl, and a squeak; but Stiles didn’t look up.
He aimed the Pokéball and let go of it—holding his breath,
he watched the little ball engulfed the Vaporeon and started wiggling back and
forth, but even now he didn’t quite dare to hope, and—YES! He’d caught it!
Stiles threw a fist into the air.
“YES!” he shouted, “YES!”
He looked up from his phone for the first time and
instantly froze as he saw who it was that he had literally bumped into.
“Tell me, Stiles,” drawled none other than Peter fucking
Hale, his voice the sort of deadpan that could either lead to sarcastic banter
or a bloody throat, depending on the season, your zodiac sign and whether
anybody had managed to piss him off already, “was capturing that Pokémon worth
losing your limbs over?”
Stiles gulped in a lungful of air and did what he knew to do
best, he deflected.
“Wasn’t there another player here just now?”
They certainly weren’t here anymore.
He tried to think back and retroactively analyze the situation,
what all the sounds he’d absentmindedly heard could have meant — had there really been a snarl? — but
it was of no use, he’d been too focused on The Mission.
Peter didn’t move a muscle, and yet his face suddenly
seemed to express fundamental doubts about Stiles’ intelligence.
Stiles wondered when he’d become so apt at reading the man’s
Then, a thought suddenly struck him.
“Wait a second,” he blurted out and narrowed his eyes, “did
you just go all Alpha Werewolf on some kid just to scare them off?”
Again, not a single twitch on that face.
“Now why would I do that?”
Because you love
scaring the shit out of people and it happened to coincide with helping your
favorite squishy human?
There was no way he would say that one out loud, no sir.
“Because there can only be one Pokémon Master in this town
and that would be me?”
Peter rolled his eyes and didn’t dignify that with a
“Thanks, by the way,” he added, finally remembering his
The werewolf just shoved him to the side and walked away, leaving
him to contemplate the absurdity of what had just happened by himself.
At least they hadn’t gotten round to more threats of
MY DARLING SON/DAUGHTER/CHILD I LOVE YOU WITH ALL OF MY HEART AND SOUL AND BEING AND I HOPE YOU HAD A FANT-AB-U-MARVOLOUS BIRTHDAY MY DEAR
❤ (also i am super jealous of your outfit i drew you in friCK)