That would have been a really good time for his boner to maybe stop. Being a boner. Except that Alan kept staring at him and apparently the terror of being caught in the act hadn't been enough to kill the tent in his sheets, and no amount of awkward shifting was properly covering it up.

Scott was probably going to kill him.

"Did you need something?" His voice was way higher than it needed to be, and Stiles cleared his throat, still fiddling with the sheet.