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Stiles slips into his Jeep and shuts the door as softly as he can, ducking his head and taking several deep breaths.
“Shit shit shit,” he breathes, peering over the edge of the window as inconspicuously as he can.
Oh god, there he is – Andrew – walking hand-in-fucking-hand with his latest boy toy, openly flaunting the fact that they’re clearly an item and, god, Andrew is such a fucking prick, to think that he can just –
“Uh…”
Stiles whips around. His mouth falls open as he stares at the guy sitting in the driver seat.
Because, apparently, Stiles is not in his Jeep.
Oh no, Stiles is in some stranger’s vehicle.
“Wh-oh my god. I am so sorry!” Stiles blurts out, pressing his back against the door.
The guy blinks a couple of times and his hands twitch, drawing Stiles’ attention. The guy is holding a beautiful glass pipe, fully packed with maybe a hit or two already pulled, in one hand, a lighter in the other.
And now that Stiles sees the weed, he smells it, and it’s only testament to how fucking bugnuts he is that he didn’t smell it the second he entered the car.
“Dude, I know this is like, the craziest fucking thing, what with me breaking into your car and shit, but do you think I could hit that?” Stiles asks with no small amount of desperation in his voice. “I have the worst fucking luck right now.”
The guy shakes his head a little bit, a smile growing on his face. “Sure, man.” He hands the bowl and lighter over, adding, “I’m Scott by the way.”
“Stiles,” he introduces through a cloud of smoke.
Scott frowns a little but doesn’t comment on the name, just continues to smile softly and asks, “Wanna tell me why you’re hiding in my car?”
“It’s that, well, I…” Stiles sighs, taking another hit and exhaling. “My ex. He’s, just, ugh! And then he’s like, in the parking lot all of a sudden like, what even?”
Scott nods like any of that made sense. “Word.”
“God, dude,” Stiles laughs, “I am so sorry. I can’t believe I just hopped into your car. That’s so uncool.”
Scott shrugs, accepting the bowl and lighter back when Stiles hands it to him. “It’s not even close to the weirdest thing that’s happened since I got here, dude.”
Stiles laughs, thinking of the random shit that he’s encountered in his time at college. “I believe you, but still, I am sorry.”
Scott waves it away. “S’cool, bro.”
“Thanks, man.” Stiles turns and looks out the window, seeing no sign of Andrew. “Well, I’m going to end this very strange situation. Thanks for not, like, stabbing me or something. And for sharing your herb.”
Scott’s grin is serene. “It’s all good.” He holds out his fist.
Stiles laughs and bumps their knuckles together before slipping out of the vehicle. He thinks, as he shuts the door, that it’s maybe the coolest thing that’s happened to him since he started school.
-----
A week later, Stiles is kind of hungover.
Okay…
He’s a lot hungover.
He groans pathetically into his steering wheel and contemplates skipping Psych and sleeping some more. He’s almost asleep when someone opens his passenger door. He peels open his eyes, thoughts of extreme murder already forming in his mind.
He turns his head and expects to see Lydia’s pursed lips or Danny’s poor-Stiles-is-hungover-again smile but instead, sitting there is – “Scott?”
Scott grins at him as he settles in the seat. “Dude, you look rough.”
Stiles snorts in agreement, noting that Scott is wearing a purple snapback, a black tank top, and bright pink shorts. It should look weird but, for Scott, it sort of works.
“So,” Scott subtly flashes his pipe, “you wanna? Best cure for a hangover.”
“Oh my god,” Stiles groans. “Where have you been all my life, dude?”
Scott laughs and twists his hat around backwards so he doesn’t light the bill on fire.
They get nicely baked and, damn, Stiles really does feel better.
“You’re awesome,” he tells Scott.
Scott nods sagely with a serene smile, looking every inch the enlightened man, even with his neon shorts and crooked jaw.
-----
A couple days later, Stiles pulls up next to Scott’s car and hops out of the Jeep. They decided at the end of their last Hangout Sesh that they should park next to each other from now on.
The first thing that Stiles notices is that Scott is wearing a fucking floral shirt. Like seriously, it looks like Stiles’ grandma’s couch from the eighties – cabbage roses and shit. Yet, it’s so Scott that Stiles brushes it off easily.
The second is that Scott’s banging his head repeatedly against his steering wheel and making a pathetic groaning sound.
Stiles goes out on a limb and slides into the passenger seat, slipping his hand between the wheel and Scott’s forehead, asking, “Dude, what are you doing?”
Scott sighs and leans back, his forehead a little red but not as bad as Stiles’ would be if he’d been doing the same thing. “I’m going to fail Chemistry,” he announces, looking truly bummed out for the first time that Stiles has ever seen.
Stiles frowns. “Well that sucks. I mean, you could retake it next semester, right?”
Scott shakes his head. “No one is going to give a veterinary license to someone who can’t pass Chemistry, Stiles.”
“Oh my god, of course you want to be a vet,” Stiles laughs. At Scott’s frown, he shakes his head and hastily adds, “I just mean, it makes sense. You seem perfect for that.”
“I’m, like, really good with animals, dude. I worked at the local clinic back home and I really love it.” He sighs, rubbing at his forehead. “But I need to pass this class.”
Stiles nods. “I can help you study.”
“Really?” Scott looks at him. “Are you good at Chemistry?”
“Yeah.” Stiles shrugs. “I mean, I got an A when I took it last year so I guess I’m good enough.”
“Dude, that… yeah.” Scott looks really hopeful. “I would really appreciate it. And it’s not like I’m bad at it, I just get kind of confused and mix up some of the information.”
Stiles nods. “Word.” He looks down at the floorboard and points to the book between Scott’s feet. “Hand me that and show me what’s messing you up.”
“You’re the best, dude,” Scott says as he reaches for the book.
Stiles grins and takes the book, looking at where Scott points. “Oh man, yeah, this killed me for a bit too.” He grabs the pen that Scott has clipped to his shirt collar. “Let me teach you a trick that my friend Lydia taught me…”
-----
And after that, it sort of becomes par for the course that Stiles will slip into Scott’s hatchback or Scott will hop into Stiles’ Jeep and the two of them will smoke and laugh and study and then go their separate ways.
They’re possibly the easiest interactions that Stiles has ever had with another human being and it’s pretty awesome, he muses as he fiddles with a brownie in his Jeep on Thursday, waiting to catch sight of Scott’s floppy black hair.
They’re friends, if odd ones, and if he had to hazard a guess, he might even say they were fast approaching “bestie” territory. Danny and Lydia will be so proud that he’s expanding his social circle.
It makes him chuckle and when Scott pulls the door open and gives him a curious smile, he just shakes his head and holds out the brownie. “For doing so well on your Chemistry test.”
Scott rolls his eyes but looks pleased as he shuts the door. “You’re the best, dude.”
“I know.”
Scott snorts and takes a bite, muttering, “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late, dude.” Stiles preens. “Now I know you love me.”
Scott rolls his eyes and throws the wrapper at Stiles’ face, making both of them laugh.
-----
“So can I ask you something?”
Stiles has been staring at the raindrops rolling down the window. He blinks and turns his head to look at Scott. “Shoot.”
Scott picks at a loose thread on his cargo shorts – Kelly green today, with a random patch of blue lace stitched on one hem – and asks, “Why is it that your ex has the power to make you duck into a total stranger’s car?”
Stiles blinks then jokes, “Well, you’re not a total stranger.”
Scott raises his eyebrows, acknowledging Stiles’ weak attempt at humor, but his expression shows he’s still waiting for an answer.
“Ugh, fine.” Stiles rubs his face and sighs. “He fucking crushed me, dude, and he did it in public because that’s his M.O.”
“That’s…” Scott shakes his head. “That is so fucked up.”
“Yep.” Stiles pops the ‘p’ then sighs. “He just… I don’t know. He kind of had a reputation, I guess. Like, I knew he was a little bit of a player but he was nice and funny and we had a lot in common.” He shrugs. “It seemed like a good thing, at the time.”
Scott makes a soft sound of understanding and pats his shoulder.
“And seeing him now, remembering the look on his face when he said… well, anyway, it just turns me into this messy idiot and I freak out.” Stiles hits the back of his head against the headrest a couple times. “I hate how much he still gets to me, dude.”
They fall into silence, but it’s a comfortable one. They pass the pipe back and forth before Scott puts it gently in the center console.
Scott sits back and waits a few minutes more before he says, “It’s okay that seeing him still bothers you.”
Stiles hums, not sure what to say in response.
Scott adds, “But it’ll get easier. And, after a while, you won’t even realize he’s there at all.”
And Stiles looks at him again, hearing the truth of experience in the words and nods because there’s just something about Scott that makes things make sense.
-----
Two weeks later, Stiles is regaling Scott with stories from when he worked at the sex shop back home the summer before college.
“And then, I’m like, I don’t have any more inflatable llamas, dude, they’re all sold out. And I have to ask myself, is this the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had?”
Scott laughs, eyes crinkling as he shakes his head and exhales a cloud of smoke. “Dude, that’s fantastic.”
Stiles nods. “I’m telling you, working there was the strangest shit.”
Scott laughs again. He lolls his head to the side then lifts it up, peering over Stiles’ shoulder and frowning a little. “Your ex… he have glasses? Curly hair? Kinda… walks like he’s got a stick up his ass?”
“Yeah,” Stiles squeaks. And he would ask how Scott knows that but Jesus, he can just feel that Andrew is right fucking behind him.
“Yeah,” Scott echoes, then confirms Stiles’ suspicions by adding, “he’s headed over here.”
“Oh no, fuck, I gotta-” He paws at the door handle, to hurl himself out of the car or just fucking do something because-
Scott’s hand presses gently at his shoulder, pushing him back against the seat and calming his flailing. Then Scott tilts his head, like he’s curious about something, before he’s leaning in and pressing their mouths together and hello wow!
Stiles maybe whimpers?
Like, okay, probably definitely does?
Scott tastes like weed and sugar and green tea. When Stiles reaches a shaky hand up to run through Scott’s hair, he gets whiffs of honeysuckle and some other herbal something that would make him fall down if he wasn’t already sitting.
A voice draws him out of his reverie. “Stiles?”
Fucking Andrew, ruining everything, as usual.
Scott pulls back and gives Stiles a soft everything’s gonna be okay smile before looking out the window. His gentle expression changes to something more predatory, more smug and certain. He asks in a bored tone, “Can I help you, dude?”
“Ah,” Andrew clears his throat, “I was just wanting to talk to Stiles.”
Stiles drops his head back and turns to look at Andrew. His tone is flat as he asks, “What?”
Andrew’s slightly uncertain expression shifts to a more familiar one – confident and flirty – and he says, “Well you moved on quick.”
“Wow.” Stiles snorts. “You’ve still got some kind of nerve.” He shakes his head. “What do you want, Andrew?”
Andrew shrugs one shoulder. “Figured I’d ask if you were interested in going with me to Spring formal.”
Stiles almost can’t believe the other man’s gall, but who the fuck is he kidding? He knows Andrew’s a fucking shit head. He gestures to where Scott is still leaning close, watching their conversation with a curious expression, a proprietary hand placed on Stiles’ knee.
Stiles ignores the way his skin feels like it’s lit up at the contact and drawls, “Can’t you see I’m otherwise occupied?”
Andrew raises one eyebrow. “No way to know how serious things are. Can’t hurt to ask.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. He knows he’s betraying his hand but he can’t help but ask, “What about your recent boy toy?”
Andrew smiles and Stiles curses inwardly for giving him the satisfaction. “He bored me. You never did.”
Oh hell no.
“No,” Stiles spits, “as I recall you said that I was, oh how did you put it, ‘too annoying to handle on a day-to-day basis’ and ‘utterly exhausting to be around’.”
Scott stiffens, his hand tightening for a moment before going loose again.
Andrew waves his hand to wipe the words away. “I was just stressed out about my classes and family junk. You know I didn’t mean that.”
Stiles lets out a shocked laugh, despite himself. “God! I am so done with you, dude.” Stiles shakes his head. “Just fucking go.”
“Aw, now, Stiles-”
Scott interjects, leaning forward again and stating, “He’s not interested, man. Step off. Seriously.”
Andrew’s face loses the easy charm and his mouth twists. “Psh, whatever. Fuck you two very much.” He turns and walks away across the parking lot.
Stiles lets out a gusty breath, edged with a laugh, and turns to face Scott. “That was awesome.”
“Did you see the look on his face?” Scott asks giddily.
They both laugh and it hits Stiles suddenly how close they still are, how Scott’s hand is still on his knee and he can still smell Scott’s shampoo and can still feel Scott’s mouth against his.
Stiles jerks his head back and lets out a nervous laugh. “So, uh, thanks for hanging out with me today and uh, for, you know, being cool about Andrew and like, covering or whatever.”
God, he’s babbling and he feels like a goddamn fool.
Scott’s forehead wrinkles in clear confusion. “Are you okay? What’s-”
“God, it’s like five already.” He twists his wrist, even though he doesn’t wear a watch. “I have to go, dude. I’ll see you, uhm,” he pauses, coughs, and nods, repeating, “I’ll see you.”
He gets out and shuts the door, hearing a faint, confused, “See you,” before he runs away like the fucking coward he is.
-----
Two days later, Lydia slams her visor up and turns with an irritated expression. “What do you mean ‘you got out of his car and ran’?”
“I meant exactly what I said, Lyds,” Stiles answers with a tired sigh.
“Have you talked to him since?”
“No…”
Lydia doesn’t say anything else but Stiles doesn’t need to be looking at her to know that she’s got her judgy Stiles-you’re-an-idiot face on right now.
And yeah, he’s a jackass and he’s not happy with what he did but… it’s just… what if it all gets fucked up and he loses him and Scott’s easy time together? He looks forward to being able to chill and relax and laugh and be goofy and Scott’s really funny and smart too.
And well, sure he’s noticed that Scott is attractive.
He’s got eyes, after all.
But it’s… maybe more than that? Maybe it's the clothes that should be goofy looking but somehow just seem so perfect or the crooked set to his jaw or how perfectly messy his hair always is?
And… oh god.
Oh god.
“I think I like Scott,” Stiles blurts into Lydia’s judgmental silence.
“There it is,” she almost sings, shaking her head. “You are so intelligent, but sometimes…”
“Oh shut up,” Stiles snaps. “I already have to go grovel, don’t make it worse.”
She pulls her visor down again. “Let me know when I get to meet him.”
He snorts and opens the door to get out. “As if.”
“Don’t fight the inevitable, Stiles. It just makes things harder for you,” she admonishes.
He rolls his eyes and states, “Goodbye, Lyds.”
“Bye, Stiles,” she replies sweetly. “Love you.”
“Yeah, yeah, love you too.”
-----
Stiles waits until Scott puts his car in park before slipping out from behind an SUV and sliding up to the car. He waits to open the door, though, something he’s never done.
Scott looks up as he approaches.
Stiles asks through the open window, “Can I come in?”
Scott gives him a long look before shrugging and going back to fiddling with his phone.
He slides into the passenger seat and remembers the last time he was sitting there. He fiddles with the vent slider and glances over at Scott.
Scott holds out his pipe and lighter and they don’t speak, just passing it back and forth for a while.
“Just, say something or get out, dude,” Scott finally says after they’ve stopped smoking and are blinking in the haze of the car.
Stiles nods and says, “I really like you, Scott. You’re a good friend.”
“Okay.” Scott nods, mouth turned down at the corners.
“But you kissed me and that changed things.”
“Yes! I did, I kissed you,” Scott blurts out, “and not just because of him but also because of something else too.”
“Alright.” Stiles taps his fingers on the armrest. “I’d like to take you out on Friday so we can talk about what will happen now.”
“And I know it seemed like I was just doing you a favor,” Scott blows out a breath, clearly on a roll, “but if you’d let me explain, I think that you’d agree that we could be so great because I like you a lot and… wait, you…" Scott blinks at him. "You want to take me out on Friday?”
Stiles nods, trying not to smile. “Yeah.”
Scott stares at him for a second before letting out a surprised sound and shoving at Stiles’ shoulder. “You dick. I had a whole speech prepared!”
“And I would have listened to the whole thing.” Stiles’ smile finally breaks free. “Come on, you know me, dude. I’m an asshole.”
“Yeah, kinda,” Scott agrees. He runs his eyes over Stiles’ face and says, “I’m going to kiss you again.”
“You better mean right now,” Stiles tells him, “because it’s all I’ve been thinking about for the past two days.”
“Oh my god, shut up, Stiles,” Scott groans and grabs him by the front of his shirt, yanking their faces close.
“Shut me up, then.”
Scott rolls his eyes. And then he shuts Stiles up.
Stiles enjoys every second.