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Stiles stumbles through his front door after spending a whole minute trying to fumble his key into the lock; he's still half asleep and how is it so bright this freaking early in the morning? This is ridiculous, he shouldn't even be awake, it was so cozy in the wolf nest... den... place, but naturally he forgot his phone charger when he left for pack night the day before and he needs to get his phone charged and powered on for school. He staggers into the kitchen and preps the coffee before switching the pot on. Why was pack night on a school night, anyways? Oh, that’s right, Derek planned it and he doesn't have school or general life responsibilities and most of the time isn't even sure what day of the week it is. They really just need to let Lydia plan everything, things actually work out when she does. Or Scott; his ideas are always met with eye rolls and grumbles about corny team-building activities, but everyone secretly loves them.
Stiles makes his way down the hall to his room and flops across his bed so he can grab his phone charger from the outlet behind his nightstand. He may doze off for one, two minutes tops, but then he's pushing himself upright again, rubbing a hand across his face. He walks towards his dad’s room to say hi before he heads back out.“Hey Dad, I’m just grabbing my charger and heading back to the loft to grab my stuff for school. I started some coff-” his sentence is cut short as he opens the bedroom door to pop his head in. Sheriff Stilinski isn't alone in bed.
“Nyeaagh” escapes from Stiles’ lips as his shoulders roll back and his hands fly up in the air of their own volition, sending his phone charger flying while he windmills his arms, trying to reclaim it. He finally snatches it from the floor where it landed and hastily shoves it into the pocket of his jeans. “Uhhhh… ummm, I just, ah,” he sputters with his hands making vague gestures in the air in front of his face as Melissa McCall raises her dark, curly head from the pillow. “Hello Stiles,” she says cautiously, like she's trying not to startle a frightened animal. The sheriff shoots upright, his extreme movement almost propelling him off the side of the bed (he is Stiles’ dad, even if he has learned to mostly control the flailing of his Stilinski limbs). “STILES! Hey son, um, you know Melissa…” he trails off, looking warily between Stiles and Melissa, his hands just kind of floating in the air in front of him.
Stiles suddenly goes still, and a slow smirk spreads across his face. He leans one shoulder against the doorjamb, crossing long arms over his chest as he looks back and forth between the very uncomfortable adults on the bed. Everyone is frozen for a few long seconds; the parents tense and worried, Stiles smug and relaxed in the doorway, smirk firmly on his face, head nodding. Stiles is the first to break the silence. “Well, Dad, new-mommy,” with a half-bow and flourishing hand gesture to Melissa, “I’m heading out to school, coffee is brewing in the kitchen.” At that, he spins on his heel and strides out the front door, chuckling to himself. He is going to have so much fun keeping this from Scott.