Escape Room – Aiden Steiner x Reader
"Um, coach," you murmured hesitantly, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck in an uncomfortable gesture. "What is it, Y/L/N?" Coach Finstock let out an exaggerated, weary sigh, before finally turning his full attention towards you. You pointed at the hotel room key that he was holding in his hand — there was only one remaining. Standing right next to you, was Aiden Steiner.
"There's one room left," Aiden acknowledged plainly, stating the obvious. "And there's two of us."
Coach's eyes darted back and forth between you and Aiden, assessing the situation. "Honestly, I don't care anymore. Go off. Just… keep your hands to yourself, Steiner," he said with clear warning in his tone.
Your eyes went wide in surprise and embarrassment, and Aiden let out a tired sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.
Coach was absolutely done with everything.
—
Aiden opened the door with a sharp, sudden movement. He stood completely still in the doorway, shirtless, his hair a complete mess like he had just rolled out of bed moments ago. "What?" he asked, his voice rough and worn with clear exhaustion.
Stiles blinked hard, trying to process what he was seeing. "How are you — are you okay? Have you been sleeping this entire time?" he asked, his voice pinching high in complete disbelief.
"Well, clearly not the entire time," Lydia pointed out dryly, arching her eyebrow knowingly. She had caught a clear glimpse of you — you were sitting up on the bed, your hair messy and tousled, your lips swollen and red, and a thin sheet covering your bare chest.
Aiden let out a low, warning growl from deep in his chest, before moving entirely in front of the door to completely block their view of the room. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice hardening defensively.
"Are you okay?" Allison repeated softly and gently, taking a cautious step towards him with concern.
Aiden narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because—" Stiles gestured wildly and frantically towards the dimly lit hallway, "Your brother tried to saw himself open, Scott nearly flambéd himself alive, Isaac is somewhere crying in a fetal position about his childhood trauma, and Boyd reenacted the Titanic in the bathroom," he explained rapidly.
Aiden turned to you, his demeanor slightly shifting to something softer. "We haven't left the room since we got here," you said quietly, awkwardly yanking the stained sheet higher up your chest for modesty.
Stiles blinked hard — even harder this time, struggling to comprehend. "So, let me get this straight. While every other werewolf here is going through a supernatural psychotic spiral, you two right here…"
Aiden tilted his head slowly, the corners of his mouth lifting in a slow smirk — dangerous and predatory. "Do you really wanna finish that sentence?" he challenged threateningly.
"You two hooked up," Lydia finished Stiles' sentence bluntly.
"Well, yeah. But I don't see how that's any of your business," Aiden shot back defensively.
"Oh, it is our business — you're the only one who didn't lose his mind."
—
"How the hell are these two looking so… refreshed?" Isaac hissed in confusion.
"You're asking the wrong question," Lydia smirked knowingly. Isaac blinked in confusion. "What?"
"Have you ever seen Y/N and Aiden so close before? Better yet, have you ever seen Y/N and Aiden together at all?" Allison asked pointedly.
Isaac's eyes widened in sudden realization. "There we go," Stiles said with satisfaction.
"No way. Did they—"
"Yep. Aiden did not feel a thing. Probably because Y/N was on top of him the entire time, but hey— at least he didn't lose his mind."
"Maybe we should rethink our crisis strategies," Allison offered thoughtfully.
