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It started on a Friday night in seventh grade. Stiles wants to say it was a mutual epiphany, but like most of the questionable things that the two of them got involved in, it was completely Stiles' idea. It was pretty much one of the most cliche thing that he had ever done with Scott, but he really didn't care at the time.
Stiles had spent a good amount of his seventh grade year with his tongue in the metal contraption that Scott referred to as his mouth. Learning to kiss wasn't exactly as simple as Stiles had expected. A lot of times there was too much spit or too much teeth and Scott's braces were a constant battle, but it was still enjoyable. When it came to kissing, Stiles figured that practice made perfect and who better to practice something so intimate with then his best friend?
Eventually, Stiles started making out with Scott less and thinking about making out with Lydia Martin more. They let their kissing practice remain something of the past. At least until March of their eighth grade year when Scott got his braces removed. Stiles loved seeing his best friend all smiles and pearly whites and before he knew it, they were making out to determine how different it was to kiss without the braces obstacle. Having nothing to separate them from each other seemed to greatly benefit the whole making out thing and before they knew it, they were spending the majority of their time sexually investigating Scott's 'New and Improved' mouth.
Kissing his best friend was never something Stiles thought would be an ongoing thing. It became this spontaneous thing, finding physical comfort in each other when one of them was sad, furious, stressed, bored, excited, ridiculously horny, that slowly molded into something that Scott and Stiles just did. It was like another factor in their friendship, a factor that no one else knew about, a factor that was only for them, like some inside joke that they didn't share with anyone else because it was only something they could understand. It was probably something people would be confused about, but so what if people would think this was weird? Stiles was fucking weird and Scott was a lot more of a dork than people at school seemed to think.
And so what if Scott and Stiles were now in their junior year of high school and they were still kissing even though they really didn't need much practice anymore? Scott and Stiles had pretty much gotten making out with each other down to a science. They knew so many ways to make each other tick, how much pressure to put where, how soft to bite and how hard to suck. Still, there were new discoveries sprinkled along lazy weekends as they adventured to map out more of each other, branching out from just lips against lips to tongues and teeth to fingers trailing down the long expanses of each other's body, memorizing every mole and scar and muscle they could reach.
"Isn't Isaac going to be home soon?," Stiles asked, staring at the ceiling. He had found himself shirtless under Scott, their legs alternating between each other, for not the first time in his life and probably not the last. He let his hands roam across Scott's clothed back, feeling his best friend place soft kisses along his collarbone.
"Probably," Scott hummed against his skin before returning his concentration to leaving increasingly less-innocent kisses on Stiles.
"Then do you think we should stop? Last thing I want to do is spend another Saturday hiding an awkward boner from your weird housemate," Stiles asked. It wasn't that he wanted to stop, it was just that fooling around in the McCall house had gotten increasingly tricky once Isaac had become a ward of the state and moved in with Melissa and Scott. Nothing sucked more than trying to conceal an erection while squished between Isaac and Scott in the middle of an intense video game marathon. Well, maybe that one time his dad walked in on him jacking off and bought him a book Melissa had recommended called Boys and Sex and threatened to ground him if he didn't actually read the book in it's entirety.
Okay, that definitely beats having boners around Isaac on the Stiles Stilinski Scale of Awkward Incidents, but that wasn't the point.
"Well then I guess you'll have to be careful," Scott said, laughing softly. He moved down from his collarbone to his chest, leaving a trail of kisses in his path. he suddenly gave one of Stiles nipples a long lick before gently nibbling on the soft skin. Stiles let out a sudden gasp, his hands clenching onto the fabric of the back of Scott's shirt.
"Wow, you are totally not helping," Stiles commented as Scott laughed that stupid, beautiful laugh of his. He pushed himself up so that he could look at Stiles.
"Really? I think I'm totally helping," Scott said, shooting him a mischievous smirk that did unspeakable things in Stiles' lower abdomen. Scott ran a hand slowly down his best friend's torso in the way he knew drove Stiles crazy. He pushed his leg that was in between Stiles' legs forward, getting so close to Stiles' crotch he could practically feel it.
"You're such an ass, Scott," Stiles said with a groan of frustration, half from the fact that Scott could be a little shit when he wanted to, and half from the fact that he was getting closer to another awkward video game with the boys of the McCall house.
"I can't be that much of an ass if you're still my friend," Scott replied.
"Yeah but in all fairness, I'm practically a professional at being a little shit. Compared to me, you're an angel," Stiles pointed out. Then again, compared to most of the human race, Scott was an angel.
"Yeah so you're pretty much stuck with me now,"Scott said, grinning like the stars were put in the sky just for him. Really, Stiles wasn't sure how Scott managed to look so fucking cute when he was pretty much threatening the death of his best friend's pride via awkward boner not even a minute ago.Stiles let out an overly dramatic sigh before pulling Scott down for a kiss. It wasn't particularly innocent or filthy, just this indescribable balance that just felt right. Stiles loved the way Scott kissed, like in that moment every move they made meant everything to him, like this weird friends-with-benefits thing they had meant everything to him.
Stiles rolled his eyes so hard he could practically hear his eyeballs rolling in his skull when the unmistakable sound of Isaac's gangly, giraffe legs climbing up the stairs hit his ears. He let go of Scott, his arms flopping to the either side of him unceremoniously, watching as his best friend shot him a grin before rolling off of the bed. Stiles' sat up, running his fingers through his hair a couple of times to gain some sort of order, ultimately deciding that he didn't really care all that much.
Stiles let out a noise of surprise when Scott threw his shirt at him, successfully nailing him in the face. Stiles glared unmenacingly as he pulled his shirt on, listening to Scott laugh smugly.
"Just for that, I'm going to red shell your ass four ways 'til Sunday in Mario Kart. No mercy this time, Scotty. No. Mercy."
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Stiles sat alone in the cafeteria, fiddling around with his phone, spamming Scott's phone with useless text messages, on the first day that everything began to change. The straw from his juice carton had long been removed from it's Apple-flavored place in life, and had found itself in Stiles' mouth, being chewed and moved around sporadically via teeth and tongue. He tapped his foot to the beat of the song he listened to the morning on his way to school, waiting for his friends to arrive.
"Where's your boyfriend?," Aiden asked, setting his food tray down on the table. As if on cue, the major portion Stiles' usual lunch group decided to join him, Aiden, Lydia, Allison, Ethan, and Danny all deciphering where to sit without any effort.
"My boyfriend?," Stiles asked, his words mumbling a little around the straw. Aiden rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, McCall," he explained even though it didn't didn't really clear anything up for Stiles.
"Uh okay, for one, Scott's in the library cramming for an English test with Isaac. And for two, Scott isn't my boyfriend," Stiles replied, taking the straw out of his mouth momentarily.
"Yeah sure, whatever you say," Aiden said in a tone that kind of irked Stiles.
"Dude, Scott's not my boyfriend," Stiles reiterated, trying to sound serious.
"Sure, and Coach Finstock is the pope," Aiden replied sarcastically. Stiles couldn't help but wonder not for the first time why he even put up with the twins and their sarcastic bullshit (not that he really was one that could point fingers at someone for being full of sarcastic bullshit).
"Okay, someone please explain to this fucking beef jerky why I'm not dating Scott," Stiles responded, looking over at his other friends for help. A look of utter confusion molded onto the teen's face when literally no one had anything to say. Allison bit her lip slightly and Lydia just stared at him like she was trying to make him be less of an idiot just by the power of her stare.
"Guys, I'm not gay," Stiles said, wondering if this was some kind of joke.
"Well you're not straight," Danny commented. Stiles had to admit he had a point.
"Yeah okay, but Scott's not gay. He dated Allison," Stiles pointed out.
"Yeah, but just because Scott dated a girl, doesn't mean he'll never date a boy. His love really does know no bounds," Allison commented honestly. Stiles sighed frustratedly.
"Okay, whatever, but me and Scott are not a thing. We don't even go on dates." Stiles didn't understand why this was suddenly the topic of lunch. Stiles could never date Scott. He was his best friend, his other half. It had to be weird to call Scott his "boyfriend".
"Alright, Stiles," Lydia began and Stiles knew he was about to face some serious shit if Lydia was going to get involved. The girl could beat the world's best lawyers in an argument. "What would you define as a 'date'?"
"Going out with someone you like?," Stiles replied, more of a question than a statement. He had the suspicion that he was being led into a trap.
"Okay, well it goes without saying that you like Scott, and Scott would probably take a bullet for you without a second thought," Lydia started, Stiles nodding hesitantly to what she said. "And both of you go out an extraordinary amount of times one-on-one. You go out to eat, out to movies, heck, you two even went to homecoming together freshman year."
"It's totally normal to go with friends when you are dateless," Stiles defended. It's not like it was his and Scott's fault they were single at the time. Besides, it was their first homecoming. Why should they miss it just because they didn't have dates?
"Friends don't buy each other boutonnieres," Lydia remarked.
"Go big or go home," Stiles muttered, chewing thoughtfully on his straw once again.
"You two are pretty inseparable," Allison mentioned. "You both are basically two halves of the same whole."
"Duh, that's because we've been friends since we were four. When you are friends with someone for that long, it's normal to be that close," Stiles rationalized, even though he was starting to doubt his own voice. He just felt like he was making excuses.
"You two also cuddle when you watch movies and share the same bed at sleepovers," Ethan joined in.
"Uh have you ever met Scott? The dude is practically a cuddle machine; it's not that rare," Stiles explained with a slight snap to his voice, feeling a little ticked off that all of his friends were attacking him like this. "Besides, Scott is like a giant heating teddy bear and I would stupid to pass up some great, extremely PLATONIC, cuddle sessions."
"Stiles, you don't have to be so defensive. None of us are judging you," Allison said gently, smiling softly at Stiles. "We are just pointing out that you and Scott definitely have a... profound bond."
"Stiles, if you and Scott were any closer, you would be married," Lydia sighed exasperatedly, never one to beat around the bush. "Honestly, the only thing separating you two and being in an actual relationship, is the fact that you aren't kissing all the time."
Stiles eyes widened because he had unabashedly snuck into Scott's house the night before with the sole purpose of jacking him off. Stiles could see all of the times he made out with Scott flash before his eyes and for a moment, he wondered if he was falling into some sort of homoerotic death-coma.
He let out a dismissive laugh, biting down on the straw a little harder than before, letting the conversation move away from the subject of Scott and Stiles. The only thing that separated Stiles and Scott from practically dating is the kissing factor, which is something that they also do.
Well, shit.
Stiles forced himself to be reasonable. There was literally no fucking way he was dating Scott. His friends were clearly just being assholes, deciding that he was going to be the butt of all the jokes at that moment. Stiles and Scott were nothing more than best friends, maybe friends with benefits, but they were nothing more.
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After days of research, Stiles solemnly came to the conclusion that he was completely and utterly fucked. After that life-ruining conversation during lunch, he couldn't get the notion of possibly dating Scott out of his head. He tried to push it away, crack jokes to himself and repeat 'he's my best friend' and 'we're practically brothers' over and over until he was positive that he had brain cells dedicated just for that specific piece of information. In the end, he found himself buried to his neck in romantic comedies, internet dating quizzes, and thirty dollars worth of teen magazines.
Begrudgingly, he started to believe the research. Stiles' relationship with Scott didn't meet many of the usual tropes of RomComs and all the teen magazines taught him was a lot of useless facts about One Direction and that his personality screamed Peplum shirt, the brighter the color, the better. They did, however, match up to many different sets of internet criteria to conclude that they were dating and Scott was in fact "his soulmate", and really, if he couldn't trust the reliable source that is Buzzfeed, what could he trust?
Stiles nibbled absentmindedly on his nails, pacing back and forth in his living room as he waited for Scott to arrive. Deaton had let Scott off for the night and the Sheriff was working a night shift at the station, so it was a no-brainer that this time was going to be used for some much needed, maybe not one hundred percent platonic, one on one Bro Time. The Netflix on Stiles' PS3 was already projecting Breaking Bad on the living room's television, brand new bags of Scott and Stiles favorite chips skewed on the coffee table, a mixture of soda cans messily circling the snacks.
Stiles will adamently claim that he totally did not jump when the doorbell rang until the day he died. He walked over to the door, stumbling a bit as he reminded himself that this wasn't anything special, that this was just him and Scott hanging out like they had for the majority of their lives. He gathered himself to appear calm (well, as calm as Stiles could be (wich was usually not that calm)) before opening the door, greeted by a very happy Scott holding a pizza box on one hand.
"Did you get alfredo sauce?," Stiles asked, staring at the pizza box like maybe it could answer his question quicker than his best friend.
"Yeah, and I got pepperoni, Italian sausage, Canadian bacon, normal bacon, and I even got the cheese stuffed crust," Scott answered with a grin, knowing that it was Stiles' favorite pizza combination. Scott's favorite pizza was anything with pineapple, but Stiles' was allergic to pineapple and to reduce the risk of a pizza-related hospital trip, Scott had disregarded his favorite topping whenever he was eating pizza with Stiles (which was extremely frequent).
Stiles licked his lips when he thought about the perfection that was that pizza. Dating be damned, he could marry Scott at that moment.
"Did you know that you are the ideal poster boy for perfection?," Stiles asked, letting Scott in, shutting and locking the door behind him as he kicked off his shoes next to the door frame. Scott's laugh carried through the living room as he placed the pizza on the junk food-covered table.
"Yeah I did, actually," Scott said jokingly, sitting down on the couch, grabbing a Mountain Dew and popping open the tab. Stiles flopped down next to Scott on the couch, ignoring the way Scott tried to make sure Stiles' free falling limbs avoided his open can of soda. Stiles grabbed the game station controller, playing the episode they were on of Breaking Bad, sliding the controller back onto the ground.
"We could totally start selling meth," Stiles commented, grabbing a slice of pizza and unceremoniously shoving it into his mouth.
"Dude, your dad is the Sheriff; I'm pretty sure he would notice if we created a meth lab in your bathroom," Scott replied, grabbing a slice for himself, putting it into his mouth with a bit more tact than Stiles (but not much).
"Well then we will do it in your basement," Stiles suggested through a mouthful of meat and cheese that really wasn't as attractive as he probably would have hoped.
"My mom would lecture us for hours on the deadly effects of drugs. She would bring out pamphlets, dude. It would be like the puberty talk all over again," Scott vocalized, making Stiles shutter at the memory of the infamous Stilinski-McCall puberty talk of 2006. Some things were much better forgotten. "Only this time, my mom would slaughter us after the lecture."
"Scottie, you only think in negatives. Think of the positives; we could be entrepreneurs," Stiles exclaimed, grinning when Scott rolled his eyes before grabbing another slice of pizza.
The next few hours were filled with the pros and cons of owning a meth business ("Stiles, this is real life and we are not going to pull a Breaking Bad"), the consumption of a whole pizza ("Scott, this is the best pizza I've ever had"), and more cans of soda than particularly necessary. Now Stiles found himself tucked against Scott, an arm wrapped around him loosely, the lights long turned off for a more optimal, theater effect.
Stiles let out a soft sigh of content as the right side of his body was pressed against Scott's left side, both of them still sitting upright on the sofa. Stiles wasn't lying when he said that Scott was notoriously a cuddling master, fitting against Stiles just right, like a giant, self-heating teddy bear. There was just some sort of comfort, some sort of safety he felt when he was in Scott's arms. Scott felt like warmth and serenity and home.
Stiles' mind wandered to dating Scott, and he was pretty sure that there was much worse things he could do than dating his best friend. It wasn't like they didn't already connect, Scott was the most important person in Stiles' life, minus his dad. They would go to the ends of the Earth for each other without a second thought. They were already partners in school, in crime, in life, would it really be that much of a stretch to add romantic partners to the list?
Stiles groaned inwardly, trying to get out of these stupid thoughts about Scott. They were clearly not dating; you can't date someone without actually knowing that you two are dating. You also can't date someone without actually being interested in them romantically, and if Stiles' opinion wasn't enough, there was no way that Scottie McHottie would be interested in his sarcastic best friend.
Scott's hand traveled up Stiles' arm, landing softly in his hair. Stiles let out a loud sigh of contentment as Scott ran his fingers through his hair gently. Stiles snuggled in closer to Scott because honestly, he was a sucker for people playing with his hair, especially Scott. Stiles fought the urge to roll his eyes when he heard a soft chuckle coming from Scott's mouth.
"Don't laugh at me, jerk," Stiles muttered, halfheartedly hitting Scott in the abdomen, causing Scott to laugh louder.
"I'm not laughing at you; I was just thinking that you're really cute, Stiles," Scott said with earnest, looking at Stiles, his big, brown eyes shining like God himself put the stars in them just so everyone could really see Scott's brilliance. Stiles could feel his heart flutter gently in his chest, his whole body aching to hold Scott right then and right there, and never let go.
Fuck, we are so fucking gay.
"Scott, what are we?," Stiles blurted out suddenly. It wasn't really the best approach to the topic, but he wanted answers.
"What? What do you mean 'what are we'?," Scott asked, clearly caught off guard.
"Like, what are we doing? How would you describe us?"
"Umm, I'm pretty sure we are cuddling and watching Breaking Bad. And we are best friends for life, Stiles. I thought you already knew that," Scott answered, his forehead crinkling in the way it always did when he was confused. Stiles took a deep breath, trying a different approach.
"Scott, are we dating?," Stiles questioned. He really should have been less surprised when Scott literally laughed out loud.
"What?! Why would we be dating?," Scott replied, wiping the tears out of his eyes and Stiles was kind of offended at how hilarious Scott thought the idea of dating Stiles was.
"It's not like dating me would be that bad, Scott. You could do worse," Stiles retorted, rolling his eyes. He straightened up a bit, moving out of Scott's hold. Scott caught on to Stiles' mood change quickly.
"It's not that dating you is bad," Scott started, slowly forming the words to avoid conflict, "it's just so sudden? Why in the world would you think we were dating?"
"Our friends think we're dating," Stiles said honestly, taking note on the startled look on Scott's face. He decided to continue. "We go out all the time, we are practically inseparable, we cuddle on a regular basis, and to be perfectly honest, when we aren't making out, I'm usually thinking about making out with you. You buy me food, I buy you presents for no reason, we spend Valentine's Day together annually, we nearly always share food at restaurants, and when we are alone, we are always touching in some way! The only thing that makes people think that we aren't dating is the total lack of sexy times, but we actually do have a lot of softcore sexy times. A. Lot. And we've been kissing since 7th grade, which is a long time to be making out with someone 'meaninglessly'. Besides, you never do stuff without SOME sort of meaning behind it! We are closer than you ever were with Allison, and some weeks I wear more of your clothes than I do my own. Now look me in the eye and tell me that we are not dating!"
Stiles finally understood what people meant when some looked at someone 'like they had just grown a third eye' because when he finished ranting, Scott was looking at him like that, with just a tablespoon of 'Deer in Headlights' mixed in.
Stiles couldn't help but feel bad as he watched Scott visibly struggle with how to react. His crooked jaw kept falling open, as if he was trying to say something, then snapping shut before anything actually came from his mouth. His eyes kept darting from Stiles and to the ceiling, staring as if Jesus would come down and clear his confusion if he concentrated hard enough. Scott was rarely speechless and Stiles had to admit it was kind of painful to watch.
"Oh" was all Scott could think to say after what felt like thirty years of uncomfortable science.
"Yeah," Stiles replied, not really sure what he was agreeing to. "Are you okay, Scott?"
"I'm fine Stiles, really, I'm just,"Scott took a deep breath, trying to decide on the right word, "shocked. It's not everyday you figure out you are dating your best friend."
"So you think we are dating?"
"Well yeah, that's kind of what you just said," Scott answered, slowly becoming less confused, but not much less surprised. He knew he had done practically everything with Stiles, he just didn't know that dating was one of those things. The two teens leaned back against the couch cushions, just trying to process everything.
"So, um, do you want to break up?," Stiles asked, feeling slightly hesitant all of a sudden. The thought of breaking up with Scott sent red flags through his body, a loud "Danger Stiles Stilinski" processing in his brain.
"If we broke up, would things change?,"Scott asked. Stiles bit his lip, wondering what all would be different between them. There would be the obvious (and sad) loss of Bro make outs, but things would definitely have to be altered in other ways. Physical contact would probably be different, even more "platonic" things like cuddling would reduce tremendously. The thought of Stiles' body no longer being entangled with Scott's warmth made him feel inexplicably cold.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure things would change. You would still be my best friend though," Stiles commented, putting the previously conceived notion of their friendship being a 'from the womb to the tomb' kind of deal into words.
"Then I don't want to break up," Scott stated suddenly, causing Stiles' head to snap over to Scott. "If things are going to change, I don't want to break up."
"Are you really sure about that, Scott?," Stiles asked, his eyes squinting slightly as he tried to decide if he was being lied to. Scott looked back at him, something brightening behind his eyes.
"I like our relationship and whether that means we are dating or whatever, I don't want to ever have to deal with having less of you," Scott spoke honestly, causing Stiles' heart to animatedly skip a beat, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red.
"Okay, so what you are saying is that you want to date me? Again, are you sure?" Scott rolled his eyes at Stiles.
"Yeah, I mean this is kind of weird, but yeah, I want to date you. Or, well, keep dating you I guess? I don't know but Stiles, you are my best friend; the only person I am closer to than you is my mom, and that's just because she raised me. We do spend a lot of time together and there really isn't a question about if we connect or not," Scott answered with an amount of honesty and resolve that could only come from Stiles' best friend. He didn't even know how exactly he should react.
"Okay...yeah, sure, sounds good. I mean, if we did break up, we wouldn't be able to do stuff like cuddle and kiss anymore and I'm not sure I'm willing to give up," Stiles said, trying to seem as casual as he could be even though his heart was dancing inside his rib cage.
"Well, that would suck. I like doing that stuff with you, especially the kissing," Scott joked with a grin.
"Well then it's a good thing we aren't breaking up then." Stiles didn't even try to contain his happiness. Smiling around Scott was purely inevitable.
"Yeah it really is," Scott said with a soft laugh before biting his lip. "So does that mean we are officially in a relationship?" Stiles thought about it for approximately a half of a second.
"Dude, we are totally in a relationship. This," he moved his arm animatedly between the two of them, "is definitely a thing that is happening. You better get ready Scottie, because we are officially in a longterm relationship."
"Does that make you my boyfriend, then?,"Scott asked and the word sounded foreign to both of their ears.
"Yeah, and you are my boyfriend," Stiles agreed, letting the word roll around in his mouth for a while. It felt strange, this new label between Scott and Stiles, but not in a bad way. It tasted like the first bite of a sno-cone on the hottest day of the year, like the adrenaline of a roller coaster when the ride had only just begun.
" 'Stiles' boyfriend?' I like the sound of that," Scott said with a grin.
"The sentence 'Scott is my boyfriend' is something I can absolutely get used to," Stiles replied, his grin matching Scott's. Scott leaned in towards Stiles until their foreheads were almost touching.
"Boyfriend," Scott muttered softly, like he couldn't get enough of the way the word felt in his mouth.
"You know, as my boyfriend, you should totally kiss me," Stiles suggested, wiggling his eyebrows awkwardly.
"So a 'boyfriend' kiss?"
"A 'boyfriend' kiss is totally different then a 'best friend' and therefore we should totally do it as soon as possible."
"Oh yeah? And what if I don't want to 'boyfriend' kiss you as soon as possible?," Scott teased, shifting so that he could rest his hands on the top of the other teen's hips. He couldn't help but feel successful when he earned a slightly put out look from Stiles.
"Well that would make you the worst longterm boyfriend in Beacon Hills," Stiles retorted plainly, earning a bubbly laugh from Scott.
"Well I can't piss off my new boyfriend so early in the relationship," Scott said, pulling Stiles closer to him.
"Technically, if you go by what we agreed on early, we have actually been in a relationship for a long, long time. So in way, I'm actually your 'old' boyfriend, not your 'new' boyfriend," Stiles pointed out, earning an exasperated eye roll from Scott.
"Just shut up and kiss me, Stiles," Scott said at last and, well, who was Stiles to ignore a request from his boyfriend? The kiss was softer than usual, calmer and sweeter than ever before. Stiles ran his hands softly up Scott's biceps, dangling his arms off of Scott's shoulder's placidly. The kiss felt different, not rushed but filled with the possibility of hundreds of kisses to come.
The first time Scott and Stiles ever kissed, they were in seventh grade. It was awkward and for months to come, they couldn't figure out the right amount of tongues and teeth and spit or whose arms and legs went where. Now, they didn't have to worry about any of that because Stiles thought kissing Scott felt extraordinarily natural, and Scott was overjoyed by the easy way their bodies seems to fit together just right.
For the longest time they reveled in the benefits of being friends, but Stiles and Scott were more than ready to start exploring the benefits of being boyfriends, starting right then and there on the Stilinski's living room, an empty pizza box discarded on the coffee table and Breaking Bad flashing in the background. They were filled with excitement: the excitement of telling their friends, the excitement of holding each other, the excitement of holding each other's hands while the whole world seemed to spin for only them. It was like a new adventure ahead and they couldn't think of anyone better to go on a journey with than their best friend.
And hey, if this journey started with Scott and Stiles having to explain to Sheriff Stilinski why they were making out on the couch, they were just happy that they were doing it side by side, hand in hand, together.