Sep 23, 2015
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Stiles takes a sip of his beer and scans the crowd. It’s wild tonight, but that’s nothing new for Alpha Delt. Jackson’s on DJ duty, which explains the shitty dubstep blasting through the speakers. Writhing, drunk bodies are packed in every corner, and the scent of weed hangs heavy in the stale air. He takes a sniff and sighs, disappointed. He was offered to take a hit off one of the many blunts making the rounds tonight, but he declined. All because Derek likes him to be (mostly) sober when they fuck, doesn’t like to mess around with consent on either end.
Not that Derek’s shown any interest in him tonight. Whatever.