The Super Fun Month of

(This fic takes place before s3A)Stiles stares at his stomach and is momentarily grateful his black shirt hid the bloodstains. He would have been found out immediately if he'd been wearing one of his lighter colored shirts. Actually, he's kind of surprised that he didn't get found out for the smell alone. Surely his wolves would have been able to smell the blood. His own blood, to be specific. It’s not like they’d never smelled it before, right? They probably didn't single him out because of all of the dead, bleeding faeries that had been surrounding them, though. Must have messed with their olfactory senses or something. It's a good thing he escaped to his jeep before they figured him out, then.