Like, ever, ever. If there was a compilation of the sexiest people through time, bossy redheads would be number one. With your picture right beside it.

[He's lying on his back, looking up at her like she's the only thing in the universe. To him, right now, she is. Sure, there's a part of his brain jumping up and down and doing cartwheels over the fact that 'OMGYESSEXISABOUTTOHAPPENALLTHESEXSEXSEX', but the majority of it is more happy with the fact that whatever sex is happening is happening with Rachel. Not some girl at a party or something quick and dirty that he might maybe feel a little ashamed about after. No, this is with Rachel. And he loves her. Like, really loves her. And she's beautiful and smart and funny and digs him. And he has no idea why, but hey, he's going to roll with it.

Then she just sort of... sits on him. There. Right where they should be, only the damn clothes are still in the way and he sort of... jerks his hips up just a little in mild protest, but he doesn't say anything. The clothes will go when she's ready. When they're ready. So he slides his hands up her thighs, moving them over to find where hers rest on his stomach and just holding them.]

Yeah? Good thing there's only one idiot out there named Stiles, then.