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It's surprising, really, how often Stiles wakes up before Scott does. To most people Stiles wouldn't seem like a morning person, which is actually entirely accurate because he doesn't wake up until noon, at least, unless he has to.
The thing is, is that Scott tends to not wake up until something wakes him up. In this case, it's music. Actually, it's usually music.
Scott is in bed, the other half of his and Stiles' king sized mattress is rumpled, empty, and cool, and Scott is squinting at the window on the other side of the room, yawning at the afternoon light that shines on the entire room. He can hear Circus by Britney Spears in the living room, and it makes him smile, because he can also hear feet thumping across the hard wood living room floor and he knows exactly what Stiles is doing.
He pushes himself up and rolls over into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He reaches down to pull the dresser drawer open and grab a pair of boxers before standing up to pull them on, not bothering with any other clothes because he already knows Stiles didn't.
When he opens the bedroom door, all of the sounds become a lot clearer and Stiles must have heard the squeaky hinges because the first thing he hears other than Britney is a shouted "Good morning, sunshine!" obviously aimed a him from Stiles who is still making a racket in the living room.
Scott smiles and walks into the room, raking his eyes over Stiles' mostly nude form, except for the white and pink striped pair of underwear that hangs a little bit loosely around his hips and Stiles sways and dances enthusiastically to the beat, slowly moving towards Scott, grinning with an obvious kind of intent.
The werewolf can't help but grin right back at him. "G'morning, Stiles." he says, a little blearily before stepping forwards to meet him, brushing their hips together as they fall into an awkward kind of dance, just for the fun of it, just like they do most things.
Scott manages to plant little, awkward kisses all over Scott while they dance, and Stiles just laughs and tries to return them all, one for one, but doesn't really do so well, accidentally bumping his chin on a shoulder or elbow more than once, and by the end of the song they're both giggling messes and Stiles is dragging Scott along with him into the arm chair angled towards the little T.V. in the middle of the wall, pushing his fingers through Scott's hair and planting kisses all over his face. "You sure do take a while to wake up, Mr. McCall-Stilinski." he says, raising a sassy eyebrow at him.
Scott groans and kisses him right back, wrapping his arms around his waist. "You're impatient. We aren't married for two more months." he says, but he's smiling anyways.
"You know, anyone else might think you didn't want this." Stiles says, motioning to his entire body upon saying this. "Of course, anyone who doesn't want this is insane, right?" he says, contradicting himself almost immediately. "Or maybe not, considering 'this' has a sexy werewolf husband who would probably rip them apart if they even suggested they were interested in 'this.'" he continues, ignoring Scott's soft little chuckle into his neck at the word husband.
Scott is still smiling as he traces his nose up Stiles' neck and slots it right up next to Stiles', almost kissing him, but not quite. "It's Sunday right?" he asks, and Stiles nods, eyelids falling down to hood his eyes. Scott hums thoughtfully and presses their lips together lightly, allowing Stiles to control the kiss, deepening it when he feels like it.
When they break apart Scott isn't smiling as brightly any more. What time is it?" he asks, and Stiles sighs against his cheek.
"You know, if you want, we can skip laundry this week and just spend all day in bed having sexy times or playing video games, or, fuck, both?" he asks, grinning. He already knows the answer, though, and releases Scott willingly when he pushes up to go. Stiles sighs instead and relaxes into the chair. "It's a little past one." he replies, and Scott nods. "We really need to get a washer and drier." he mentions, making Scott turn to grin at him cheekily.
"Or maybe you should tell me exactly what you did to get banned from the freaking laundromat." he says, rolling his eyes as he makes his way back to their room.
Stiles scoffs from his chair in the living room and crosses his arms. "I really think that that is in the past and should not be brought up ever again. You know if you ask Ms. Landon she'll just tell you, right? She saw the whole thing go down. It was kind of mortally embarrassing in the absolute worst kind of way."
Scott rolls his eyes again from their room while he pulls drawers open, digging out a pair of jeans and a pair of socks before going to the closet to find a shirt that's lean. Once he's dressed, he grabs the laundry basket, filled up to the brim, and steps outside, pulling his shoes on without using his hands as he goes. He leans down the kiss Stiles on the temple before grabbing the keys from the kitchen table where they always put them and heading out the door with an "I'll be back in two hours!" shouted over his shoulder.
Stiles totally doesn't spend a good two minutes pouting before getting up to do productive things like a productive and functioning member of society would.
---
When Scott reaches the laundromat, he scents the air warily and sighs upon finding Ms. Landon's right in the thick of it; it was exactly like he imagines Umbridge smelled like, from Harry Potter. Cats, too much perfume, and evil.
He grabs the clothes basket and pushes it up against his hip before heading inside and setting the basket on the counter in front of a washer. The next thing he does is walk over to the laundry supplies bar and buys some soap, bleach, and fabric softener because he and Stiles really needed to work on their domestic life supplies. Like, seriously.
He shoots the guy running the place a smile and offers him a good afternoon before stepping back over to his counter and grimacing when he sees a little old lady wearing a really old formal purple suit tailored for women, spectacles, and way too much jewelry to be using a laundromat standing over his basket, watching him.
He forces a smile as he reaches his basket and nods at her. "Good afternoon Ms Landon." he says quietly as he reaches into his back pocket for the quarters he keeps there, opening two washing machines and putting his coins in the slots, ready to be pushed in whenever he was.
He reaches for the basket and grabs a dark graphic t shirt that definitely belongs to Stiles, but he might have also worn once or twice, and throws it into the top washer.
She offers him a smile right back. "Good evening Mr. McCall." she says, right back, delightedly. "You really are such a polite young man. I don't know why you insist on hanging around that Stilinski boy when it's always been so obvious that he's a bad influence." she says. It's roughly the same thing she says every time he sees her here, and while it still makes him angry, it no longer shocks him to hear it.
His forced smile returns and he gives her a long look before deciding what to say. "Actually, I asked him to marry me last week." he says, pulling a black pair of panties from his basket.
She looks at him blankly and then stares at the underwear in his basket. "Don't you have a girlfriend, though? Surely you don't have a daughter old enough to wear these yet!" she says, feeling obviously scandalized, and disbelieving.
Scott grabs a handful of white shirts and throws them into the bottom washer, humming. "Those belong to my fiance, actually. He likes them." he says, hoping this is what it will take to get her to finally leave both him and Stiles alone.
She huffs next to him and is silent for a few moments while Scott continues to separate the clothes. "You really ought to tell him that that's wrong." she says, finally, crossing her arms. "Now," she says, "I on't have any problem with two men marrying each other," she was lying, "but there are really some lines that you just don't cross. Does he want to be a woman or something?" she asks, amusement rolling off of her in waves.
Scott can feel the rage boiling up inside him as he takes deep breaths and throws the last of his and Stiles' clothes into the machines. He closes the doors on both of them and pushes the coins in before selecting all of the correct and incredibly basic settings before he turns to look at her.
His anger must be apparent on his face because her eyes widen and she purses her lips together as if she were scared, which, honestly, she ought to be. "Ms. Landon, I really don't appreciate you talking about my fiance like that, and I think you should go somewhere else right now." he said, remembering how he and Stiles had been dancing together just minutes ago, and how silly they had acted together, even while kissing each other crazy.
Stiles isn't just Scott's fiance, after all, he's his best friend, and Scott isn't ever going to let someone talk about him like that.
Ms. Landon narrows her eyes at Scott, harrumphs and turns to walk away, leaving Scott there to finish doing the laundry, anger slowly dissipating because he handled it, it didn't get violent, and he's sure Stiles is going to be extra proud of him for both dealing with and quite possibly putting an end to Ms. Landon's bullshit.
Scott eventually starts to smile to himself, and continues to do so until the clothes are dry and folded and he's on his way back to the car.
Far too late, he realizes that this probably means he'll never figure out how Stiles managed to get himself banned from a laundromat.