“It’s two fucking am,” Scott said, “and you dragged me out of our warm bed–”
“My bed,” Stiles said, “that you decided to crash in. Because you’re a goddamn menace when it comes to being tired and wanting to cuddle.” He smiled. “Not that I mind. Have I told you that you look really great without clothes on?”
“You dragged me out of your warm bed, forgive me, to get cheesy snacks.” Scott folded his arms and listened the chatter of the old woman behind him. She was sneaking him looks and saying congratulations to him in Spanish. He gave her a smile and she giggled.
“You like cheesy snacks,” Stiles said as the line inched forward.
“At two am, not so much,” Scott grumbled. He took a step forward and glared down at the offending cart. It was loaded with cheezits, soda, and all sorts of other heart-stopping treats he was completely ready to eat. He glared at Stiles. “Did you think this through?”
“No,” Stiles grumbled. The line inched forward and Stiles pushed the cart. “I thought that it was going to be quiet because it was two am. Who the hell gets out of bed at two am and decides to go to Wal-Mart?”
“Apparently us,” Scott said. He stuffed some chocolate atop a cheetos bag that perched close to the edge. It tottered and Scott watched it. Stiles shoved it back in with a scowl.
“Come on, man, it’s not that bad,” Stiles said. “We can think of a way to pass the time without being an asshole about my cheesy snacks.”
“Maybe we can think about the problem on our hands,” Scott suggested. Stiles rolled his eyes.
“I prefer the idea of what I’m going to have you do when I get home,” he said.
“I’m not talking about sex at Wal-Mart while we’re on a line to get cheesy snacks at two am,” Scott said. “You’re going to be on your own for the next day.”
“Why?” Stiles whined.
“Because you made me go to Wal-Mart, declaring it was important, to get cheesy snacks.”
“Cheetos are very important, Scott,” Stiles said. He looked around and opened one of the boxes, shoving a handful of cheezits into his mouth. “So are cheezits, and all of this chocolate that you shoved in here,” Stiles said around a mouthful of crumbs. A few sprayed onto Scott’s face and Scott scowled, brushing it aside.
“You’re going to make me breakfast,” Scott said. “I want eggs, orange juice, and coffee.”
“Yeah yeah,” Stiles said, popping some more into his mouth.
“And I want my eggs scrambled, with toast,” Scott added as Stiles chewed. “I get up at eight, so you’re going to have to get up a bit earlier for me.”
“Yeah, alright,” Stiles said as the line surged forward. They both stopped at the edge of the register, staring down a mountain of merchandise. “Really?” Stiles asked.
“This is what happens when you get out of bed at two am for cheetos,” Scott said as he took some and chewed. “Give me the keys, I’m going to go sleep in the jeep.”
“Fine,” Stiles said, shoving the keys over. “Now we’re even.”
“Not even close,” Scott retorted as he walked away.