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Peter bites Stiles against his will after he tracks Derek. An ADHD Werewolf is already a problem, but one with blue eyes is a bigger one. Add on to that his Mother's secrets coming to light, and Stiles is going to have a hell of a time just trying to graduate on time.
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Rather suddenly, with only an hour left on shift, Robby turns his wrath on Dennis.
Rather suddenly, Robby's three-month-long motorcycle-themed suicide sabbatical turns into three months of intensive outpatient mental health treatment.
His house key ends up on Dennis's keyring all the same.
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Actions Speak Louder than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)
Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)
22 Jan 2020
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“I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.”
That was a bad word. Not found.
Have.
Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment.
One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.
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“I put in 1095, but it won’t turn off!” Dennis shrieks, trying to be heard over the sound of the alarm. He knows that he didn’t get the numbers wrong because he’s staring right at them on the crumpled sticky note. “What am I doing wrong?”
“Did you push the off button?”
Dennis looks at the keypad, not seeing anything that says Off. “What?!”
“Put the code in and push the pound sign after.”
Dennis does as he’s told, except, in his panic, he hits the asterisk instead. “Shit.”
“It’s the hashtag,” Robby says, sounding entirely put out.
“I know what a pound sign is,” Dennis grumbles, hitting the button and noticing the word Off in the smallest font known to man under the #.
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Or, 5 times Dennis sets off Robby's alarm, + 1 time Robby does it himself.
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“I haven’t really been to a wedding where I’ve, uh… let loose. But, hey,” Dennis shrugged, “maybe I’m doing it wrong.”
“If I hadn’t already agreed to go to this conference, I’d offer to go with you,” Robby said casually. “Show you how it’s done. I’ve got a good track record as a plus-one, too.” Dennis had to say something. To interrupt. To shut this down. But what was he supposed to say? No, you can’t be my plus one, because I lied about my cousin, and there is no wedding, and it seems a little weird to bring a date to a fucking funeral– “Apparently parents love it when you bring home a doctor.”
And just like that, the bubble popped.
“I’m not gay,” Dennis snapped.
He had never hated the sound of his own voice as much as he did right then.
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Or, Dennis is anxiously headed home for a "wedding" in Broken Bow, Nebraska, the details of which are increasingly fuzzy. Robby's got a medical conference in Omaha that same weekend. So they carpool. Seventeen hours both ways in an enclosed space with no way out except a tuck and roll. This'll go great.
