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~STILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILES~
Stiles isn’t a big believer in love at first sight. Disney movies with their fairy tale romances and happy endings are stupid and unrealistic. It never happens that way in real life. He rolls his eyes as he listens to yet another girl talk about her special date night with her boyfriend. Four months he thinks to himself. Four months from now and you’ll probably find out that he’s been cheating on you with that chick in his ethics class. Ironic isn’t it?
Of course, Jess, the poor ignorant girl talking now would never find out. She is in Stiles’ Civil War history class right now and five minutes ago she mixed up General Lee with General Grant. He can’t keep the look of annoyance of his face so he turns away, propping his head up in his hands. It’s not his place to say something but part of him just wants to put the poor girl out of her misery. At the very least maybe she’ll be able to focus on her studies.
Suddenly the door opens so hard that it hits against the hall, cutting Jess off from her monologue. Sighing in relief, Stiles turns around to see his saviour and despite his earlier thoughts, his eyes widen because wow.
The class has gone completely silent. Professor Sanders turns around, the hand that holds the marker still hovering close to the board. “You’re almost ten minutes late,” he says, voice dripping with disgust. He glances over his eye glasses at the list of students on his desk. “I assume you’re Mr. Isaac Lahey?”
The newcomer’s face is bright red but the humiliated blush doesn’t diminish those brilliant blue eyes. “Y-yeah,” he chokes out in a nervous gasp that makes Stiles cringe on behalf of him. “Sorry, sir. I was… lost.”
"First day," the professor sighs impatiently. "I presume you didn’t bother to make sure you knew where all your classes were before you had to go to them? And where were you the other day for the first day of class?"
A quiet snickering fills the room and Stiles’ heart goes out to the poor guy. He’s already missed one whole class and now he’s being ridiculed in front of everyone else. So much for people maturing in college. So far his impression is that it’s high school all over again. Thirteenth and fourteenth grade.
"Hey," he whispers just so the kid, so Isaac, can hear him. "Here." He nods at the empty desk next to him.
Isaac slides in so fast that he nearly knocks Stiles’ books off the desk with his backpack. “Sorry!” he exclaims, blushing even more.
"Dude, it’s okay," Stiles tries to calm him down. "Just-"
"Mr. Stilinski!" Professor Sanders says in a booming voice that makes both of them jump. "Kindly refrain from disrupting the class any further. And in the future, I would appreciate it if you and Mr. Lahey would show me the proper respect…"
But his voice fades as Stiles’ mind drifts into his own thoughts, flipping back and forth between the unfairness of Jess not getting in trouble for talking and Isaac. Just Isaac. He’s hiding his face slightly but Stiles can see his curly golden hair. He literally looks like one of the Precious Moments angels that Stiles’ mom got him when he was little.
Isaac catches him staring and suddenly they have matching red faces. Stiles sends him a quick grin and a little wave of his fingers. Having never been graced with social skis or the ability to walk without tripping over his own two feet, he’s used to being embarrassed. By now he’s used to handling humiliation as natural as someone may breathe.
But Isaac is now staring at his textbook like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. Stiles sighs quietly and sits back in his chair, trying to refocus on the lecture. He can see Isaac from out of the corner of his eye though and he finds it distracting. He needs to meet up with him. He needs to talk to him and to get to know him and-
A gentle nudging at his side breaks his train of thought. Stiles glances over to find Isaac looking back at him, gripping a tiny piece of paper in-between two of his long fingers. Stiles sends a quick look to the professor who is absorbed in writing a bunch of names and dates on the board in impossible to read handwriting. He reaches out to take the paper, brushing hands with Isaac as he does so. Isaac flinches a little but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he smiles crookedly at Stiles before letting go of the paper and turning back to his book.
Stiles unfolds the paper and looks at it. A phone number. Isaac gave him his phone number. He has Isaac’s phone number. He sucks in a quick breath and lets it out, trying to stay calm. He looks up at the clock, disappointed to see that there is still an hour and a half left in the class. So much for caring about the Civil War. Or anything about this semester other than Isaac.
~ISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAACISAAC~
He doesn’t even know his first name. Stilinski. That’s what the professor called him. Must have been his last name, right? What’s his first name? For the past two and a half hours, Isaac has been trying to think of a name that could possibly fit someone that good looking but he’s just come up empty.
Right after class ended, Isaac had another class to run off to and… so had the other guy. They exchanged shy smiles after bumping into one another and then went their separate ways, Isaac remembering to ask him his name only after he was out of sight. Throughout his entire class and the thirty-five minutes it’s been since that class ended, all Isaac has been able to think of is Brown Eyes.
Isaac’s phone vibrates and he glances nervously at it. Hey! the message reads. This is Stiles Stilinski from History class.
Stiles. Isaac turns the name over in his mind. He’s never heard of that name before yet somehow it seems perfect. Stiles Stilinski. A small turns up the corner of his mouth and he types out a response, fingers shaking as he does so. Hi. What’s up?
Waiting for Stiles’ next response is the most nerve wracking thing ever. Isaac can’t keep still and restlessly drums his fingers against the table until he notices the glares he’s getting. He’s in the library.
I was wondering if you wanted to meet up? I could fill you in on what you missed in the first class.
Isaac realizes right away that it’s impossible for him to have missed very much at all. Either Stiles is being really nice to him or he just feels sorry for him or… or he actually wants to hang out. Isaac can’t think of a reason for anyone to want to hang out with him but he’s not about to question it either. If he does then he’ll chicken out and never even have a chance at-
At what? His face has to be permanently red by this point. Isaac shakes his head and types out a reply. Sure, that’d be great. When are you free?
I have all day now! :D
He’s grinning from ear to ear now. Cool, I’m in the library right now. Do you want to meet somewhere else?
"Hey!"
Isaac flinches a little and turns around to see Brown Eyes- or rather, Stiles watching him in concern.
"Isaac, right? Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you might be in the library so I thought I’d surprise you."
He remembers my name. Isaac licked his lips nervously and managed a small nod. “Y-yeah,” he said, the word catching in his throat. “No big deal.”
Stiles flashes him a dimpled smile and he feels the blush on the back of his neck travel up to his cheeks. “Isaac,” he says again, seemingly oblivious to the effect he’s having on the younger boy. “Is everything okay?”
"Other than the fact that I made a complete fool of myself back there?" Isaac lets out a breathless chuckle and lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "I’m used to it. High school isn’t kind to someone who can’t walk up stairs without tripping. I was hoping to make a better first impression at college though."
"First impressions aren’t for everyone," Stiles says carelessly. "I’m all about second or third, maybe fourth."
Isaac chuckles and then moves his backpack aside, nodding to Stiles so he can sit in the empty space. “You know, I didn’t even get a syllabus. Maybe that’ll help me make a better second impression.”
Stiles slides in next to him and pulls a notebook out of his backpack. “The professor should have given you one, but you can look at mine if you want. We didn’t do much. He read us what was one here as if we can’t read it ourselves and then he went into great detail on his own personal policies regarding absences and tardies, stuff like that.” He shrugs. “Pretty much what I expected from my first college class so I’m disappointed.”
Isaac scans the few pieces of paper, taking in the list of assignments and the basic course requirements. Stiles is right. It’s pretty standard. “Kinda sucks,” he says, taking down a few notes before sliding the papers back Stiles’ way. “I like history. I was hoping this would be interesting.”
"There’s a group project for the midterm if you want to work on it together," Stiles suggests. "That might make it more interesting."
The prospect of working with Stiles makes this class seem a lot more bearable. “Sure,” Isaac smiles awkwardly, not sure what to say now. It’s not like there was much to say to begin with, but he doesn’t want Stiles to leave.
Fortunately, despite how much he likes to make fun of himself and his apparent lack of social skills, Stiles isn’t close to running out of things to say. “So Lahey, huh? What is that, an Irish name?”
"I guess? I don’t actually know."
"Sorry, boring question. I was trying to avoid the typical college questions. You know, like what is your major, where are you from, blah, blah, blah." Stiles laughs.
He has a really nice laugh, Isaac decides. He grins back at him. “Stilinski, huh? Let me guess. Polish.”
"As Polish as it gets! Stiles isn’t my real first name though. Not even Scott knows my real first name. Only my dad. My mom picked it. It was her dad’s name, I think. I don’t know for sure though because I never met him."
Stiles is rambling now, but Isaac can only think of one thing. “Scott?” he asks, feeling embarrassed. It’s the not even Scott thing that’s sticking out to him. Not even.
"My best friend back home," Stiles replies easily. "We’ve known each other since we were really little. I complain about my roommate all the time to him. Anyway. He doesn’t know my real name." He gives Isaac a little smirk. "Maybe you’ll get lucky enough one day."
Isaac is practically dying of curiosity but he doesn’t say anything. Stiles seems perfectly comfortable with the playful conversation but he doesn’t know what to think of it himself.
"So," Stiles says, making Isaac jump a little. "Want to get lunch?"