Bread. Cereal. No, not the disgusting wheat kind that has raisins and shit in it, the kind with sugar and also more sugar because life's too short. Apples? Nah too healthy. Stiles moved onto the next aisle. What about jam? He stopped his trolley as close as he could to the shelf because wow did he hate it when other people left their trolley in the middle of the aisle. If he got jam it would have to strawberry, not only because it reminded him of Lydia's hair, but because...anyway strawberry jam. He craned his neck to look at the prices. There was a sale on Royal Garden but Stiles knew from experience that they never removed the seeds before jammifying fruit, so not them, even if they were 35% off. And Jerry's had a really weird logo, like some freakish DNA mutation of a rabbit and a lizard which just reminded Stiles of Jackson so he wasn't about to buy that either. He supposed he'd have to settle with Smucker's even though it wasn't actually on sale at all. He had morals he wasn't about to sacrifice for a jar of jam! A little extra money wasn't worth dirtying himself with shitty brands.
He was just closing his fingers around the smooth plastic label on the Smucker's jar when he felt air on the back of his neck before he heard the voice. The jar shattered on the floor which made Stiles' anger only increase after a split second between recognising the voice and thinking wow today is not gonna turn out as well as I thought it would when I woke up this morning. It wasn't his fault, therefore, that he didn't look at Theo, instead choosing (or perhaps, as he would later say, being forced to karmic imbalance) to gaze morosely at the Smucker's strawberry jam on the waxed grocery store floor.
"Oh my god, I knew I recognised you!"
Stiles also (and he couldn't blame this one on karmic imbalance) ignored Theo's words in favour of edging his sneaker away from the slowly spreading jam. Oh god. Scott would punch him for that joke if he was here. Which he was not. Instead, Stiles had the immense pleasure of 'running into' (this was so not a coincidence) Theo freaking Raeken, Scott's apparent 'BFF' from grade school who decided he'd show up and take complete advantage of 'knowing' (please, Theo did not know Stiles' best friend) a true alpha and try get into his pack. So not happening. Not on Stiles' watch. But, because Stiles' mouth probably has supernatural powers of its very own, it opened and spewed out, "Yep, not like we met two days ago."
Well. 'Met' is a polite way to say it. Scott was way more lenient to Stiles than Stiles would've been to Stiles. ...wow. Anyway. Theo was speaking again. "No, no, no, you don't understand-"
"Pretty sure I do," Stiles said shortly, turning and pushing his trolley forward, relinquishing the jam (unless he came back to the aisle after he got rid of Theo, and after a sufficient enough time that he couldn't be accused of causing the sticky situation).
"I saw you- okay trust me, you do not understand, I saw you get gangbanged by six guys last night, and wow you take cock like a champ! High five bro!" Whatever Stiles had been rearing to say in retaliation to his apparently lack of knowing, trickled out of his nearest cranial orifice like spinal fluid would if he had just suffered a brain damaging blow to the head. Which, in all honesty, he basically had. He was distantly aware that his mouth was open and that it was getting drier instead of, y'know wetter, since the appropriate response would be drooling in surprise which Stiles had regrettably often done. He equated this to the fact that he was still, shockingly enough, pushing the trolley down the aisle to the cashiers. He licked the inside of his teeth and slowed down a little, thinking whether or not this was a joke, if this was Theo's unsurprisingly (to Stiles) method of becoming his friend and thereby pack, or if Stiles was hallucinating again like he did back when...yeah. Hopefully not that last one.
"God Stiles, I'm sorry but you have to believe me!" Theo called out from behind him, and Stiles belatedly realised that Theo was jogging to catch up to where he was at the end of the aisle. "I'm not shaming you, if anything I'm a little impressed, but I swear I won't tell Scott or anyone if you don't want me to-"
"Theo." Stiles finally dug his feet into the linoleum flooring as best he could and the trolley more or less screeched to a halt. "Theo. Can I call you Theo? Wait shut up I'm gonna anyway. Firstly, why were you watching gay gangbang porn last night, secondly why would you tell me, an important factor in you getting into Scott's pack, that you were watching gay gangbang porn last night, and thirdly, since you were, I'm gonna have to tell Scott that because I'm not sure if he'll be happy having someone with those kind of tastes," Stiles eyed Theo, "In his pack." Stiles knew he was being a massive dick to Theo. And Stiles frankly didn't care (okay, he cared a little, but his raging jealously over Scott's happiness to seeing 'BFF' Theo again overrode that). Stiles also knew, in an objective way, that he was sounding pretty homophobic but he was actually referring to Theo apparent taste for power play which didn't go down well in a werewolf pack. But again, Stiles couldn't muster up enough compassion to care.
Theo sounded hurt when he replied, which was fair enough, but again Stiles did not care. "Okay, since you don't believe me, I'll show you."
Stiles leaned back into the trolley like Theo had just brandished a dragon glass sword at him (which, god, would be so unadulteratedly cool), and he felt the cold metal digging into his lower back where his shirt had ridden up. "Wow, okay I don't need to see it, really, please do not show me gay gangbang porn in the middle of a grocery store, I'm practically begging now Theo, do not." When he saw Theo ignore his words and frantically tap away at his phone Stiles abandoned his trolley and backed away out of the aisle. "I'll put in a good word for you in the pack if that's what you want, please Theo put your phone away-"
"Here," Theo shoved his phone in Stiles' face and holy shit that actually was him oh my god, Theo was right, there was a skinny guy that looked exactly like him getting fucked by six guys on the floor of a warehouse (so classy, if Stiles was a real pornstar he would downright refuse to engage in anything sexual in a warehouse, after all his decidedly nonsexual warehouse experiences). The guy even had moles on his back in the same places Stiles did! It had to be magic. There was no other wa-
"Wait a fucking second," Stiles said, tearing his eyes away from the video to get out his own phone. "Oh my fucking god I'm gonna kill this bastard, fucking lying whore dickbag I hate him so much-"
"Uh, Stiles?" Theo said, lifting his phone closer to himself hesitantly. After a pointed look from an old lady at the sounds the video was emitting, he blushed scarlet and put his phone away. "Please don't kill anyone. I swear I won't tell anyone about your," he coughed, blushing harder, "hobby? Job? Secret life?-"
"Stuart," Stiles growled into his phone, and he heard the sharp intake of a breath on the end of the line. "Why the fuck is some d class assfuck showing me a video of you getting gangbanged by six guys in a warehouse?"
"Hey!" Theo defended himself, but Stiles was too mad to focus on him right now. "Um," Stiles heard rustling on the other side of the phone and the background noise shifted. Stuart had moved outside?
"Hi, Stiles. I'm good thanks, how are you?"
"I mean," Stiles said, continuing a tangent aloud that had started in his head, "I'm not judging you for being a pornstar, it's a perfectly respectable career and all, but seriously? A warehouse?"
"That's the part of this you have a problem with?" Stuart sounded amused. Stiles really was going to kill him.
"You know what," Stiles said, and he wondered if this was how the wolves felt when they were about to lose control, "We will have this conversation at a later time."
"Whatever keens your peaches," Stuart chipped back.
"What?- never mind, expect my call." Stiles hung up and started walking out of the grocery store, intent on going home and, well, doing what he does best. Researching. On his twin brother's pornstar career.
"Hey Stiles!" Theo yelled out, and god Stiles had forgotten about him. He whirled around, manic energy pulsing through his limbs. He supposed his face must have looked scary, or something, because Theo blanched. "I won't tell anyone you do porn!" Stiles tried to reach out to his spark but honestly, whatever crap Deaton had spouted about visualising his hand reaching out and literally grabbing his 'spark', it didn't work. He settled for good old human methods, and smiled sincerely.
"It's not me you fuckwit," he said, and he knew Mrs Connis from down the street would tell his dad he was swearing in a public space later, but he couldn't care less at this moment. "It's my twin brother."