Chains are fun. [Woah, not what Stiles had wanted to say, not at all, and definitely not that chipper.] They don't work too well against werewolves though...
Chains are fun, but they don't work well with werewolves. [His voice decided to raise itself without his permission, as if to make sure Scott had heard him.]
Normally Stiles would have shot back 'a fun way' accompanied by a cheeky grin and a detailed history of the chain, but his mouth seemed to have other ideas.
"Chains are restricting. People and objects can't move when you chain them up. It's organized." Yeah, his problems of organization and focus were totally going to be fixed by chains.
"They're loud, but dignified. And they're pretty..." Because this discussion wasn't creepy enough. Stiles eyes were wide with shock as his mouth ran itself, but not in the usual way. He could feel a pull in his throat, urging and forcing the words out of him.
Now. That was a lot of information. A tremendous amount of information, actually. Scott had not been expecting anywhere near that much information. In fact, he hadn't really expected an answer at all. Stiles talked a lot, but there tended not to be a lot of information in there, except immediately after some kind of werewolf research was conducted. So this specific, and lengthy, answer, was not something that Scott had seen coming.
“They're not very dignified coming out of your locker in the middle of lacrosse,” Scott reminded him with a gentle scoff.
"It got Finstock to leave me alone for a few days," Stiles pointed out, fighting the urge to spill every single secret he'd ever had. It was powerful, and Stiles curled his fist discreetly, trying to ignore it.
Sure, Scott probably knew whatever his traitorous mouth wanted to spew at him, but they didn't really talk in depth about feelings and things of that nature; the exception being Allison, whom Scott never seemed to shut up about. Not that Stiles actually minded - he was happy that Scott was happy.
Scott hadn't even put that together. "That's why he wasn't messing with you?" Scott went back to the weird dearth of Stiles-insults, and realized that it did, in fact, coincide with the Chain Incident.
"He totally thinks I'm running an underground sex club, but I think he figured out that I could never be a pimp." Stiles' leg began to bounce, and he bit his lip, trying to get rid of the itch.
Scott gave Stiles his "huh"-face, the he always got when he still wasn't sure what Stiles was talking about, but he had been convinced that whatever it was he was saying was accurate. "If you say so."
Stiles knows that face - he's seen it enough to recognize it. It's almost as infamous as Scott's puppy eyes, and his bored out of his skull expression.
"My dad catches pimps for a living." Right, because that was an acceptable sentence to say aloud, and it wasn't like Scott didn't already know that already. Speaking of, there weren't that many pimps in Beacon Hills, believe it or not...how had he even gotten to this? Right, sidetracked again.
"Four prostitutes, three conmen, a child molester, seven vandals, and one arsonist last month." Stiles blinked at the flow of information, then shrugged, trying to play it off. "It was a busy month."
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what?
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"Chains are restricting. People and objects can't move when you chain them up. It's organized." Yeah, his problems of organization and focus were totally going to be fixed by chains.
"They're loud, but dignified. And they're pretty..." Because this discussion wasn't creepy enough. Stiles eyes were wide with shock as his mouth ran itself, but not in the usual way. He could feel a pull in his throat, urging and forcing the words out of him.
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“They're not very dignified coming out of your locker in the middle of lacrosse,” Scott reminded him with a gentle scoff.
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Sure, Scott probably knew whatever his traitorous mouth wanted to spew at him, but they didn't really talk in depth about feelings and things of that nature; the exception being Allison, whom Scott never seemed to shut up about. Not that Stiles actually minded - he was happy that Scott was happy.
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"My dad catches pimps for a living." Right, because that was an acceptable sentence to say aloud, and it wasn't like Scott didn't already know that already. Speaking of, there weren't that many pimps in Beacon Hills, believe it or not...how had he even gotten to this? Right, sidetracked again.
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