Christmas Stalia AU: Malia’s car breaks down at the gas station where Stiles was getting snacks from. Stiles offers to drive her to Beacon Hills for Christmas.
(with additional adventures, such as christmas sex, lusting, sheriff stilinski, and unresolved sexual tension that everyone but them notices.)
for @staliashipperforever, merry christmas!
your malia secret santa xx
When Stiles exits the gas station, bag full of snacks, all he can hear is swearing. “-are you fucking me?” A Brunette - his age, his notices - is around her car, as the engine sprays smoke all around. The engine’s overheated, and by the looks of it, the engine needed major repairs. Whoever she was -as he eyes her body fitting outfit with great appreciation, it looked like unless she got another ride, she was done for.
“Where are you headed?” Stiles blurts out impulsively, and watches as she turns her head in clear annoyance. Shit. Shit. Shitshitshi-
“Some musty old town in California with a high death rate. Family lives there.” The girl replies, her brown hair forming soft waves around her face.
“Beacon Hills?” It’s a long shot, a chance in a million, cause well, there’s no way this hot a chick would be going to his home town-
“Yep.” The girl confirms, and Stiles is sure that he’s gonna have a heart attack. She pops open the back of her trunk and takes her suitcase out. “Open your trunk.”
Rolling her eyes, the girl repeats herself slower: "Open. Your. Trunk.” She’s rolled the suitcase to the side of his Jeep, and is heading back to her trunk to retrieve a bag when he finally realises.
“Wait, you’re riding with me?!” Stiles sputters out in shock.
She’s rolling her eyes at him. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you stranger-with-food, you know.”
“Stiles.” He replies, somewhat lacking the usual suaveness he had. She gives a small smile, before replying: “Malia.”
Malia’s a pretty name, but then again, so was she.
Stiles doesn’t know what to expect with Malia. So when her phone rings, he’s surprised to find her decline the call. “Who was that?”
“Either the asshole that keeps trying to flirt with me from Political Science, or my family.” She replies, looking out the window bored. Behind them, is Malia’s car had been pulled along by a trail-along-thingy (as Malia had dubbed it before paying for it) which held the car.
“You’re single.” Wrong thing to say, idiot.
“You have more brain cells than I expected.” Malia jibes back, laughing as she watches his face go red.
“I-I- I have m-more brain cells than expected?! Damn right I have more brain cells than-” Sputtering in an emotion he can’t define, Stiles watches as Malia howls in laughter.
“St-st-stiles, your fa-ace..” Malia barely manages to talk between the spurts of laughter, and for a second, all is forgotten except the two of them together.
All Stiles can do is throw a bag of M&M’s at Malia’s face, and the laughter just continues.
The hours pass quickly, as Stiles drives, and Malia keeps him company. Their conversations range from light hearted topics like how deer would taste- Malia argues that it would we interesting to try, and Stiles agrees- to their family, where they both fall silent.
“Fine.” Malia says, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen.
“Fine, what?” Stiles is guarded, and daylight falls at a steady rate on the 22nd of December.
“I’ll confess to one, and in exchange, you’ll confess one. We both don’t tell the other’s secret.” Malia explains, and Stiles agrees to it. Why not? Nothing quite like confessing personal secrets to a stranger you’re romantically attracted to.
"The family I’m visiting in dead-zone California is my birth family.“ Malia starts, her facial expressions hidden by the growing lack of light. Her hair seems darker now, and Stiles wonders what it would be like to kiss her-
"You?” Malia questions, and Stiles snaps out of his daydream.
“Uhh.. I haven’t actually been home since Freshman year.” It’s the first thing Stiles can think of, and that of all things…
Malia raises her eyebrow, and smiles ever so slightly. “I haven’t seen my adopted family for thirteen years.”
“That’s fucked up.” Stiles, she’s gonna slap now..
Malia laughs freely, and her face lights up in joy. “It is, yes.” It’s nightfall now, and they’ve stopped at the closest hotel.
“Eichen House Hotel. Seems safe.” They’re at a corroded iron gate, approaching a building that looked like it was meant to be destroyed years ago.
“It looks more like a mad house.” Stiles comments, as he subconsciously grabs Malia’s hand for safety.
“C'mon Stiles, don’t be a coward.” When Stiles doesn’t move, she tugs his hand and kisses him on the cheek quickly. Grinning, she continues. “It’ll be fun.” Stiles does nothing. “It’s only for one night."
"Bad things can happen in one night, Malia! Haven’t you watched any Horror Movie since the beginning of time?!” Stiles replies, unwilling to move or let go of Malia’s hand.
“Stiles,” Malia explains slowly and carefully, “it will be okay. Now c'mon, let’s go.”
Reluctantly, Stiles concedes. “Fine.” At that note, Malia opens the rusty door, and it creaks open. Off to hell we go.
The only available hotel room they have is the basement. “What kind of service is this?!"
"I mean-” Stiles stops, when he realises that Malia is undressing, and is in sweatpants and a black bra.
“Stiles, I really don’t care that you’re seeing me in a bra.” Malia comments offhandedly, as she throws on a shirt with a werewolf-coyote.
Stiles hoped his disappointment that she was dressed was well hidden. “Well… It’s still better not to.”
“You’re gonna see a woman’s bra during sex anyway.” Malia responds in an almost mockery type tone, her shirt drooped a little to low to be safe. Stiles can’t keep his eyes off them.
“Well, I haven’t had sex…” Stiles hints, and Malia eyes him with a little more wanting than normal, “and it has been on my wishlist of things to accomplish before Christmas…"
Malia laughs, and pulls him onto the couch next to her. "Well, if you’re so concerned about having sex just days” -she leans in- “before Christmas, then..” -and kisses him on the lips- “I’m not really picky, so I’m available if you want."
Stiles can’t believe that she’s fallen for the excuse he made up. But Malia’s just kissed him on the lips, and he likes how it feels. She’s removed his shirt now- Malia’s bra betrays nothing but the best-
When morning comes, and all their clothes are scattered across the furniture of the basement, Stiles can’t help but think that for first time sex, it was fantastic.
"Well, was it good? You did want Christmas sex.” Malia questions, expectantly, fully dressed.
“Huh?” Stiles mutters, drowsily. Last night was amazing…
“Was. It. Good.” Malia repeats, before continuing in a gentler tone. “The sex, silly.”
“Oh-oh yeah. It was great..” Stiles mumbles, then turns to his side. It’s too early to be awake..
“Stiles. We have to go.” Stiles barely acknowledges her words, and rolls over. “If I must…”
“MALIA!” Stiles tumbles onto the floor, as his blankets are pulled off him. Malia grins, proudly holding the blankets.
“We have to check out.” Stiles groans, then reluctantly gets up.
“What time is it?” Stiles looks around, and finds that the basement has been cleaned up. “Where are my clothe-”
“Your clothes are behind you, now hurry up.”
“How close are we to this deadbeat excuse of a town?” Malia questions, for the eleventh time in ten minutes. Stiles ignores her, opting to turn the radio up instead.
Let It Snow plays in the background, and Malia changes the topic. “So, who and what are the Hales?”
“Malia, I’m trying to drive.” Stiles finally gives Malia a reply.
“Answering my question wouldn’t kill you.”
“Derek Hale used to be a friend of my friend’s.” Scott’s.
“He’s the creepy uncle that tried to kill us a few times.”
“Apparently I’m his birth daughter.”
“Your name’s Malia Hale?!”
“Malia Tate. No that you’re one to talk, M-”
“Not my first name!” Stiles protests, before adding: “I prefer Stiles.”
“Stiles Stilinski then.” Malia concludes, and they fall back to a silence that has grown far to comfortable for both of them: Stiles keeping his eyes on the road, and Malia lost in her thoughts.
“Malia, we’re at Beacon Hills.” Stiles breaks the silence, but gets no answer. “Malia.” No answer.
Malia is asleep, her head resting against the door and smelling of sex. He’s at the entrance of Beacon Hills High School, when he notices the Police Car nearby.
There’s a knock on his window, and Stiles immediately regrets rolling it down. It had been Dad. “Dad?!”
“Stiles, you brought a girlfriend home?” Malia rests at the window, and stirs at the sound of Sheriff Stilinski’s voice.
“Stiles, are we here yet?” Her voice breaks the silence, and Sheriff Stilinski tries not to show his shock. “Is that the Sheriff?”
“…and my dad.” Stiles finishes..
“Your dad thinks you and me are romantically involved.” Malia concludes, to Stiles’s rant turned lecture.
“Yes, Malia, he does! How do we tell him I only took you along for the ride because your car broke down on the way here?!” Stiles almost shouts in exasperation.
"Why not, Malia? All my friends are here, and they probably already know and want to meet Ms. Stiles Stilinski!"
"Stiles, we’re not married.”
“That’s not what I meant- I just meant that-”
“Stiles, shut up and kiss me.” Malia mouths him: dad’s coming. When Stiles does nothing, Malia stands up, rolls her eyes, and kisses him hard on the lips.
Not a moment later, there’s a knocking sound on the partially opened door. Told you so, Malia whispers into his ear.
“So Malia, when did you and Stiles meet?” Sheriff Stilinski asks, over leftover pizza and coke.
“At a gas station.” The Sheriff gives her a questioning look, and she explains. “My car broke down, so Stiles offered to drive me home.” Stiles mentally gives a sigh of relief, she wasn’t lying…
“Was it your current car?” The Sheriff questions, sceptical.
“It is, yes. Not the first time it’s had engine problems, but I would’ve expected the last fix to make it last just a few months longer."
"Have you considered switching cars?” The Sheriff suggests, watching Malia as Stiles tries not to choke on his coke. A quick kick in the thighs from Malia stops it all entirely.
“Stiles’s Jeep would be better than whatever I ever got. Better quality.” The Sheriff nods in agreement.
“I can’t believe dad’s making us decorate for his Christmas party later.” Stiles grumbles, hanging tinsel along the railing.
“It’s still better than visiting the murderous uncle I have for a dad.” Malia offers in exchange, decorating the over-lighted Christmas tree.
“We have to have the house fully decorated by six.” Malia acknowledges it, then continues to dump ornament upon ornament onto the tree. “The tree looks like a ball throwing machine threw up on it.”
“Your tinsel looks like someone with no patience decorated it.”
“Make me, Stiles, make me.”
“I could under the mistletoe beneath the door.” Stiles groans inwardly, wrong thing to say..
“Stiles Stilinski, did you just flirt with me?”
The Sheriff finds his son and his ‘girlfriend’ having a fully dressed make out session under the mistletoe, his railing and tree looking like a total mess.
❄ Merry Christmas @staliashipperforever ❄