Work Text:
Stiles had figured that this Spark thing might be more trouble than it was worth, but it had been going well so far. After all, he had learned how to grab onto his magic, and had even thrown a couple fireballs at a witch. (The fireballs hadn’t actually hurt the witch, but it still counts!)
Then he started sneezing fairy dust.
At least, that’s what Stiles thought the stuff was. He couldn’t really be sure, but it was sparkly and light blue, so what else could it be?
Even that wasn’t a problem for the first couple days. It was the weekend, it only happened every once in a while, and not much dust appeared. But then, he started to sneeze more frequently and the quantity of dust just kept growing.
He was starting to get worried, but he didn’t want to bother his dad at work. After all, the man hadn’t signed up for any of this supernatural business, and Stiles tried to keep him out of it as much as possible. He could always call Derek, but he had already embarrassed himself in front of the man enough for one lifetime.
In the end, he wound up calling Scott, but that didn’t go quite as he had planned.
“Hey, man.
“Hey, Scott. I kinda have a problem-”
“Uh huh, that’s great. I’m with Allison, so I’m gonna have to call you back later.”
“Oh. Well, this is kind of an emergency-”
“I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
“Wait, Sco-”
After that, Stiles decided to just tough it out on his own and do some research. That’s what he did best, and it had always worked before.
This time, not so much.
There was absolutely nothing that told him what was going on. The best he could find was a magic trick where someone coughed up confetti, and that wasn’t helpful at all.
Before he knew it, it was Monday, and he had to go to school. At this point, he has gotten rather good at holding in his sneezes, so he thought he would be alright.
To be fair, he did make it through the whole school day and even lacrosse practice with no incidents. (He had one close call, though. Luckily the bathroom was empty and he hadn’t gotten any dust on his clothes.)
His luck ran out when he was changing in the locker room after practice.
Stiles had waited until he was sure that everyone else was out of the locker room before heading in, just to make sure that he was safe. What he hadn’t accounted for was the fact that Jackson had forgotten to grab his jersey.
It was just Stiles’ luck that Jackson walked past him just as he let out his most dust-filled sneeze yet.
Jackson stared down at his dust covered shirt before leveling a glare at Stiles. “What the hell is this shit?” he asked angrily.
“Um, fairy dust?” Stiles replied sheepishly. “But don’t worry! It comes out of clothes really easy! Mostly. Sometimes. You know what? Let’s just forget this ever happened. Okay? Bye!”
Stiles tried to slip away, but another sneeze knocked him backwards, straight into Jackson.
“Alright Stilinski, that’s it.” Jackson pushed Stiles away before grabbing his jersey and dragging Stiles toward the parking lot. “I’m taking you home. You’re not fit to drive.”
“Probably a good call,” Stiles said after another sneeze. “But why are you taking me home instead of foisting me off onto someone else?” Sneeze. “I thought you hated me.”
“I don’t hate you,” Jackson replied, not looking at Stiles. “I hate McCall. There’s a difference. Now give me your keys.”
“My keys?” Sneeze. “Why my keys?”
“Because I don’t want your dust all over my car. Now hand them over.”
Stiles handed him the keys and climbed into the passenger side. He rolled down the window when Jackson started to pull out of the parking lot and sneezed out of it. “What?” Stiles asked when Jackson side-eyed him. “I don’t want this stuff in my car either.”
When the two arrived at the Stilinski residence, Stiles hopped out and went to unlock the front door. He turned to call over his shoulder, “Hey thanks for driving me ho-” Sneeze.
Jackson blinked once, before looking at Stiles blankly. “I know that you didn’t just sneeze in my face.”
“I didn’t mean to!” Sneeze. “I didn’t know that you were behind me!”
“Get inside,” Jackson said with a glare. “And I'm coming in. I need to wash my face off.”
Stiles went inside and flopped onto the couch. He groaned and put his hands over his face before sneezing again. “How is this my life?” he asked.
He heard Jackson exit the bathroom and start puttering around in the kitchen. Figuring that Jackson couldn’t do much harm there, Stiles just turned onto his side and pulled the blanket around him that had been draped over the couch.
Just as he was drifting off to sleep, Jackson came into the room, pushed his legs off the couch, and placed a bowl of soup in his hands.
“What’s this?” Stiles asked.
“You’re probably sick,” Jackson replied. “So eat your soup and then sleep.”
Sneeze. “What are you going to do?”
“I am going to watch a movie and make sure you don’t choke on fairy dust in your sleep.”
Stiles grinned and started to eat his soup. “You’re so sweet, taking care of me in my time of need,” he teased.
“Shut up.” Jackson settled onto the other end of the couch, remote in hand. “You better not snore. I actually like this movie.”
The two boys sat in silence while Stiles ate his soup. When he was done, he put the bowl on the coffee table and snuggled into his blanket. Between the feeling of a full stomach, the warmth of the blanket, and the oddly soothing sounds of explosions coming from the TV, Stiles quickly started to drift off.
The last thing he felt before falling asleep was his head falling on Jackson's shoulder.