#Ideally I'll have weekly updates but it depends on my energy and inspiration levels

[mildlywitty]

You've All Decided Whatnow?

Stiles was running a little bit late to the pack meeting, he knew that. But he'd gotten distracted after school by reading some weird tome Deaton had lent him to help with his spark or something and had forgotten to set an alarm.

Whatever though. It wasn't like he was going to be an hour late or anything. Just fifteen minutes. And he'd even sent a text to Derek when he realized he was late at all so the cavalry wouldn't break into his house uninvited just in case he'd been kidnapped.

He pulled into his usual spot between Melissa's car and Jackson's Porsche and bound up the steps of the rebuild step two at a time.

“Sorry I'm late,” he called as he opened the door. He kicked his shoes off and put them on the only rack spot available. He didn't even notice the lack of voices in his hurry to get in and get the meeting started.

Weekly pack meetings had been a thing for a few years now, even at times like now when there wasn't a new monster terrorizing Beacon Hills. They'd probably get updated on the current threat level and rumors going around then cobble something together for dinner and watch a few movies. Occasionally Derek got a hair up his ass to do some extra training, but he usually just called a separate meeting for all the weres if he was in the mood for that.

Stiles stepped around the doorway and froze. Everyone was squished together on a few of the sofas, all looking way more serious than a social meeting called for, and all of them staring at him. His skin broke out in goosebumps, and the hair on his neck prickled.

“Hey,” he said carefully, entirely unsure what was going on. A quick look showed everyone was watching him, even the non-weres, which meant it probably wasn't something wolfy related. Maybe fae or witchy in nature then? “What's up guys?”

“Stiles, please have a seat,” Derek said, pointing to a plush chair that had been set up across from everyone else, “We all wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Is this because I was late,” Stiles asked. He walked to the chair slowly, making sure to keep his eyes on everyone, and sank onto the very edge of it slowly. “Because that was totally my bad. I knew we were having a meeting but I started reading that book Deaton gave me and...”

“Don't worry about it.” Scott interrupted, “It actually gave us a little more time to sort some stuff out.” Stiles' eyes jumped from person to person.

“What kind of stuff?” He could feel the dread filling his stomach. His hands clenched on the chair's arms.

“I told you this was the wrong way to do it,” Lydia's voice cut in. “I don't even have enhanced senses and I can tell we're freaking him out.” Stiles looked at her and she gave him a small reassuring smile.

“I think you overestimate the social abilities of our little group,” Peter replied. “Half of us definitely think staring someone into submission is a form of flirting.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. Stiles snorted.

“But I can assure you, Stiles, that you aren't in any trouble. We simply have a,” Peter paused, his eyes caught Stiles' and held them, “proposition we wanted to extend to you.”

“Kinky,” Stiles said. Scott, Lydia, Isaac, and Jackson snorted. Derek got a thoroughly constipated look on his face. Peter and Erica each gave a grin that was all teeth. Meanwhile Boyd looked as stoic as ever, Allison looked as sweet as ever, and Danny looked as chill as ever. The group fell into a slightly tense silence.

“Each of us wants a chance to court you,” Derek said finally, after it seemed like nobody else was going to start speaking.

“You all want a chance to whatnow?” Stiles squeaked.

“Court you,” Peter helpfully supplied.

“But like half of you hate me,” Stiles objected.

“Pigtail pulling, darling,” Peter grinned. “And I can assure you that I'm not the only one doing so.” He gave a pointed look over at Isaac and Jackson.

“But like, all of you? Really?”

“Well, see, we've been talking,” Scott cut in, “and we all kind of like you. Like, we all want to date you or whatever. Like, sort of individually, but we thought we'd come to you as a group so you knew everyone wanted a chance.”

“Scott, you're madly in love with Allison. You two are like soulmates.”

Scott and Allison looked at each other and had a secret soulmates mind reading conversation before turning back to him.

“Stiles, we wanted to try courting you together, as a couple,” Allison said. “We both really care for you and would love to be with you.”

Stiles finally slumped back into his chair and stared at them all.

“So, what, we all just go on group dates or something?”

“We talked about it,” Danny spoke up, “but then decided against it. We figured nothing would actually get decided if we were all trying to catch your attention all at once.”

“So is there a schedule or something?”

“Of a sort,” Allison said.

“We drew straws,” Scott added.

“Okay. So I go on a bunch of dates with all of you. Then what?”

“Well, ideally you'll feel comfortable enough to tell the people you don't want to date that you don't want to date them.” Derek added. “We've all agreed that we'd step back if you told any of us that. We've got a list of rules.”

One of Stiles' eyebrows went up. “Rules?”

“Yeah, like not sabotaging dates,” Scott said, eying Peter. Peter merely sneered at him.

“And nothing ostentatious or over the top for dates and presents,” Boyd finally spoke up. “We were concerned the money imbalance in the group might hinder some of us.” Jackson huffed off to the side but said nothing. Lydia simply shrugged.

“I don't need money to be impressive,” she said.

“Presents?” Stiles asked.

“As per courting traditions, gifts may be given to the intended. We've limited ourselves to only one per date. No gifts allowed outside of dates except for traditional gift giving occasions like birthdays and Christmas,” Peter explained.

“Any other rules?” Stiles asked. Some of the shrugged.

“Not really?” Scott answered. “We figured there might be some added as we go along, but that's what we managed to come up with as a group.”

Stiles sat up in his chair. “Okay, well, I have some rules of my own then.” The group waited for him to continue. “We're friends and pack first, courting second. That means if I'm not on a date with you, don't act like we're dating, y'know? And don't be bitchy at each other either. We still have to have each other's backs.”

“Agreed,” Derek said, accompanied by general murmurs of agreement from the others.

“Good. Also, no possessive werewolf bullshit. That means no scent marking or anything like that. If you try anything weird, I'll spray you with water.”

The group was silent.

“And also, it's cool you guys decided an order or whatever, but you still have to ask me for each date. And this whole dating thing could be put on halt at any time if something is trying to kill us or big school things come up. And no dates on my dad's days off.”

More murmurs of agreement.

“Alright, cool. And lastly, I want Chris Argent as my chaperone.”

The group exploded in noise.