Stiles arrives at the conclusion that his life must have become a sitcom. It probably happened when he had the misfortune of first meeting this asshole. Seriously though, he refuses to accept that Sasuke just casually felt up his arm. On a scale of 1 to 10, it manages to be nearly as weird as that one time Scott walked into his bedroom and then visibly recoiled, demanding that Stiles open a window because it reeked of jizz. Alright, maybe it isn’t even close to being nearly as weird—but the point remains that Stiles is weirded out. And defensive. His musculature isn’t pathetic, okay!? As awful as he may be in lacrosse, he’s at least got something resembling biceps.

“I can’t believe you just called me a little bitch!”

Except that Sasuke only did in a hypothetical sense. Stiles is offened anyway.

“Here I am, just trying to make friendly small talk, and you feel the need to piss all over the olive branch. If sarcasm is my only defense, does that make beating down friendships before they bloom yours?”

He’s going to ignore the comment about punching him. Hopefully it isn’t an actual threat.