S͟T͟E͟R͟E͟K͟ I͟M͟A͟G͟I͟N͟E͟S͟

Wolf Boy

The thing is, Stiles didn't want this. He didn't ask for it. It just happened.

"Stilinski! Move your precious ass! You need to be on stage in two!"

"Sure, boss!" Stiles yells back, just as the door from the office slams loudly shut. Yeah, he definitely didn't want this but he learned to love it, partly.

He came here with a dream. To be a great student and fuck as many people as he can, while he can. And he tried, he really tried but there was a slight problem with the money.

So he took a job in a coffee shop but it wasn't enough. Therefore he took another one in a library and before he could notice he worked thirteen hours a day and his grades were on the brink of disaster. This solution for his financial crisis sucked. Bright time!

Stiles let everything behind for this. His father, his pack, Scott... He told Scott that he couldn't go to UCLA with him like they've planed because Columbia was such a great opportunity. Scott was just as great as a best friend as ever, totally supportive and happy for Stiles.

So he couldn't just give this up. No way. There isn't any fucking universe in which Stiles would give this up.

And then, one night in a club, Marv showed up.

The first two minutes Stiles just laughed, like really laughed. He might or might not fell on his own ass because he laughed so hard. Then he told Marv that this was the lamest joke ever and tried to leave. But the Manager of Golden String (as he introduced himself) explained to him that his proposition wasn't a joke, gave him his business card and told him to call if he ever felt the desire for a glittering career. (Stiles had no idea how much glittering. Just waaay too much glitter, seriously.)

So, here he is, in really, really tinny golden strings under the police uniform in the same shade of gold. He put on sunglasses, which would look cool, if they weren't part of the costume.

He needs to tear off the costume in a few minutes - very slowly and even more seductively if he wants to get some good tips.

Yes, his fancy and well paid job is stripping, in one of the best strip clubs in the Bronx. His job takes five hours top, two or three nights a week.

If Stiles can say, it's a win-win situation. He has time for school, a healthy sleep rhythm and enough money for everything he needs. Yeah, but there is this slight problem that his dad has no clue what he's doing for a living. Or Scott. Or anyone else, actually. But except for that? It is fantástico!

At least it was for the first six months.

He told everyone that he works for a big IT company. When they asked about it and he pulled out all those IT terms and strange words, they never asked again. If he said "work is good", they believed him, except for Lydia. She would have definitely known what he's saying, but she didn't really care. So, win for him. Again.

But now he's staring at his phone with desperation written on his face and doesn't know what to do.

I'm going to NYC for my new internship. Spare me a room. L.

He is so fucked.

"Stilinski!" Marv sticks his head in from his office, again, and Stiles runs on the stage without a moment's hesitation.

He can figure this out. Yeah, he totally can.

He's so dead. So dead!

***

"So, what's this internship about?" Stiles asks on the next day and gives a questioning look to his laptop screen. They're skyping and Lydia's perfect face is smiling at him. (There is maybe a small unintentional shiver through his body. No lust - just pure fear. Her smile never means anything good, at least for him.)