Work Text:
Art by the amazing Rouvere
“What time is he going to be here?” Melissa asked around the thread she held in her mouth, deftly sewing the tear in Scott’s borrowed dress pants while her son paced in his boxers. She did her best not to smile as he sighed dramatically, every inch a nervous wreck.
“Soon! Are you sure you can fix it, mom?” Scott stopped, hovering over her like he could somehow make it all go faster.
“It would be easier to finish if you just sat down and relaxed. Why are you so nervous? You and Stiles have been pretty much inseparable.” If it worried her that Scott and his boyfriend had seemed to break up or how clingy they’d been since they’d apparently patched things up. They were a little too old for sleepovers, especially ones that lasted over a week but it had been a long time since Melissa had seen Scott so happy, so she stayed out of their way and hoped they made good decisions. Or as good as a sixteen year old could make.
Scott flopped down on the bed next to her as she finished up the careful stitches and held up the pants. “There, no one will ever be able to tell. You’re going to look great.”
“Yeah, except when they fall down because they’re so big.”
“You can use one of your Dad’s old belts, it’ll be fine. They’re not that big on you, Scott.”
The boy made a face at the mention of his father but didn’t argue. “I just want everything to be perfect, you know?”
She smiled at how he twisted his hands, nudging her son with her shoulder. “Just be honest with him, honey. It’s all going to be fine.”
“He already knows everything, mom.” Way more than Scott had told anyone else.
“You’ve told him how you feel then?” Melissa raised an eyebrow.
“Well, I…he knows that too.”
His mother thunked him in the head with the palm of her hand. “Seriously, Scott? People like words. It doesn’t matter if you think they know or if they do know, you need to say it. Say it again. Write him a song about it, carve it on a tree. People like to know they’re loved.”
Scott smiled, taking the pants carefully with a quiet “thank you” before the doorbell sent him into another panic. “Tell him I’m not ready yet!”
___
Stiles was going to vibrate out of his clothes or faint. The Sheriff’s money was on faint. He watched his son with a heart full of pride that was a little embarrassing while Stiles clung to a corsage of chicken wings from KFC. The Sheriff thought he knew how much thought went into that. He had no idea. He’d come in on the tail end of the decision making process, as Stiles fretted over a dozen Blu-Rays, a pack of caramel popcorn, and flavored condoms the Sheriff was happy to forget he saw.
He made the mistake of asking Stiles why he didn’t stick to flowers.
Stiles wailed.
His kid couldn’t stand still on the best of days, but the Sheriff had never actually seen him wear holes into asphalt before. Tonight might be the night for that.
"Stiles - Stiles! Quit swinging your chicken." He ordered. He didn't hear what he was supposed to.
"I think I’m gonna be sick." Stiles mumbled, turning to his Dad with wide panicked eyes, and for the life of him, the Sheriff couldn’t figure out why. He and Scott had been painfully co-dependent ever since they got back together, and he gladly let Stiles take care of the laundry.
Sighing heavily, he licked his thumb, and tried to do something with Stiles’ gelled hair. He was a little worried that Stiles didn’t protest. Mostly, he hoped he could get enough pictures to remind his son of this moment for decades.
"You’ll be fine. Scott will think you’re hot." He tried to placate. Stiles looked affronted.
"Dad, don’t ever say hot again, okay? I just- I want him to have a good time. I wanna have a good time. I want to have a good time with him.”
The Sheriff cut him off. If he had to listen to another tirade on Scott’s warm chocolate doe eyes, and the splatter of cute little moles across his jaw, he would not be held accountable for his actions. “It’s going to be great, Stiles. I bet he’s going to be just as excited as you are.”
"You think so?"
Stiles looked so hopeful. Not for the first time, the Sheriff wondered what he and Scott were doing. That week they broke up, Stiles had retreated into his shell like he hadn’t seen in years, then all at once, it seemed like they couldn’t be a stone’s throw away from each other.
"I know so," he insisted. He kept his concern to himself. It was easier when Melissa opened her front door, and all of Stiles’ focus was forcefully directed elsewhere.
Stiles held the corsage like a shield, but all his worries flew out the window when he caught sight of who he need to.
"Scott…?"
___
The boy lit up like the sun, turning his megawatt smile on Stiles like no one else was in the room. His dimples deepened and he laughed at the corsage, putting both his hands over his heart. “Oh my god, seriously? It’s perfect!” Scott didn’t know whether to eat it or tackle Stiles, so he settled on leaving a quick kiss on the other boy’s cheek.
Stiles looked good, Scott had never seen him all dressed up before and damn, he should be forced to wear a suit every day if he looked like that. Or a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants. Or plaid, plaid was nice. Naked, that was always a good look on him. Sensing something was out of place, he managed to tear his attention away, eyes glancing between their two parents with wariness. His mom didn’t even bother hiding it, hands clasped under her chin and already doing the patented McCall Family Excited Bounce. The sheriff looked more uncomfortable and a bit embarrassed by the whole thing, but there was a proud sort of indulgence lurking in his smile.
Oh gawwwwd .
“Mom, we should probably go now.” Scott said, hooking his finger around Stiles’s pinkie for moral support. Tonight was going to be perfect. Awkward dancing didn’t seem to be as intimidating when Stiles actually wanted to go with him and hopefully, it would all end better than that disaster at Lydia’s. Maybe getting kicked out for making out under the indoor bleachers in the gym, sneaking a few drinks and watching the sun rise together. If he was lucky, then…well, he’d be lucky. And somewhere in there, Scott was going to tell his boyfriend how he felt for the first time. He wanted to wait for the right moment, not sure when that might be but confident he’d know when the time came. After everything they’d been through, he wanted it to be special and he wanted Stiles to know that he meant every word.
“No way, you’re not leaving this house until I get pictures!” Melissa put her hands on Scott’s shoulders, forcibly moving him over to the stairway to pose. “Stiles, you there. Oh, where is my camera…”
Scott shot the other boy an apologetic look, rolling his eyes when his mom’s back was turned and leaning into Stiles’s personal space just to be close. He smiled for pictures until his face hurt, not even his mother’s enthusiasm dampening the moment. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late, mom. We have to actually get to the dance instead of just taking pictures ahead of time!”
___
"In case you didn’t like the food," Stiles said, a little too eagerly. He couldn’t stop grinning, and when Scott looked at him like that it felt like he’d been granted all the stars in the universe and was being set on fire by their awesome. Scott kissed him, and he couldn’t not lean in. Greasy fingers fumbled for a nondescript black box, before the rest of his functioning brain gave up so that Stiles could focus all his efforts on staring at his date.
"You look really hot, dude," Stiles insisted, pecking Scott on the cheek. He smelled good, too, with just a hint of spice that made Stiles want to roll around with him, and do awful things to his body. He slipped his hand into Scott’s, invited by the pull of a pinky before he jolted. "Right - right, can I pin you?"
The box’s lid clattered to the ground, revealing a single white flower. Stiles didn’t know what it was, but its petals were small, and there were little tiny leaves around it, and no stray dogs would chase Scott for it. He missed his Dad’s long-suffering sigh. He might have missed Scott speaking, and the end of the world. He was a little too invested in watching Scott’s mouth move. Then Scott was being pulled away, and Stiles was so confused.
The Sheriff shook his head, but his smile was easy as he offered, “Here, I brought mine. Remember when we used to have these developed?”
"Dad, come on! You know what we look like." Stiles protested, but he was running his fingers down Scott’s tie, and everything in life was awesome forever.
___
“I love it.” It was a special guy who knew that fried chicken was the way to his heart. It was all he could do not to stuff the entire thing into his mouth…or knock Stiles over and make out with him soundly. Maybe once they were out of their parents’ grip. “Dude, you’re…yeah. Wow.” Scott McCall, super suave talker. No wonder he’d never dated anybody before.
He beamed as the flower was pinned to his jacket, proud and pretty sure that if they didn’t leave soon, he’d be the second McCall in the room bouncing on their toes. Scott laughed, letting Stiles straighten his tie and leaning in to steal another quick, chaste kiss that was totally okay to give in front of your mom. As soon as he got Stiles alone, he’d show the other boy exactly what you couldn’tdo in front of parents.
Oh man, they were going to be awful tonight. This was absolutely perfect.
Scott suffered through the photos, making fun but too happy to protest believably. He gave his mom a quick kiss and shot her an absolutely horrified expression as she snuck a condom into his jacket pocket with a significant look. They were too young in her mind, the mom in her wanting them to keep to comic books and video games but the nurse more resigned to teenage boys. “Be safe.”
The wolf quietly hoped the floor would open up and swallow him. His face burned and he couldn’t look at Stiles…definitely couldn’t look at the sheriff. “We should, uh…we can go. Let’s go. I’m gonna…car. Yup.”
___
I love you.
Stiles really just wanted to hold his hand. There were a dozen, super sappy pictures of them by the end of their little photo shoot. Stiles’ favorite would be the one where they were leaning into each other, foreheads touching, looking like they were sharing secrets. It would’ve been skeezy if they both weren’t grinning like loon, cheeks splotchy pink like they’d been drinking and so hopefully besotted it practically bounced off the shot.
"Come on!" Stiles laughed, nearly tripping over his own feet as he stumbled towards the door. The Sheriff cleared his throat, and the groan Stiles would have let out died on his lips once his Dad started talking.
"Don’t forget about the curfew, boys. Watch out for mountain lions," the Sheriff commented pointedly. "Be safe." He repeated. Stiles didn’t think he was talking about the mountain lions.
He still plastered himself to his boy- best- Scott’s side, and took a bite of his chicken corsage. Stiles reminded himself that things had been quiet, really quiet. Things had been good. They were allowed to have one night off. This was going to be amazing. He promised, “I’ll have him home in one piece, Ms. McCall.”
First, he was going to wreck Scott’s butt.
When he dragged Scott into his jeep, He completely missed his Dad’s exasperated sigh.
___
Scott couldn’t stop laughing, he felt like he was radiating happiness and maybe he did end up bouncing just a little. It didn’t matter that Jackson would be there to glare at him across the room or Lydia would probably be back on his arm with an equally icy glare for ending things so suddenly. The only thing he could concentrate on was how Stiles looked when he smiled and chicken wings, so good!
He adjusted his jacket, still nervous though he knew there wasn’t any reason for it. Scott just wanted this to be the perfect night, find the right moment and…guh, the words were already perched on the end of his tongue. He was planning on making a complete idiot out of himself at least three or four times tonight alone, it was only lucky that Stiles was willing to put up with it.
He was so so lucky.
The boy leaned back against Roscoe’s seat with a happy sigh, letting himself just live entirely in the moment. “You look really good, you know. I mean it, I like it a lot.” Scott was going to the Winter Formal with the hottest guy in the entire school on his arm and it made zero sense at all. It was amazing. The condom in his pocket burned like a brand and he rolled his lip between his teeth, doing his best not to think about it.
“I hope you’re not planning on going home too soon there, bro. I have a whole night planned. I have ideas! Just you wait, Stilinski. I’ll make sure you don’t forget tonight.”
___
"I’m sorry."
That was Scott’s only warning before Stiles leaned in and kissed him like he meant it. His hand curled gently around Scott’s nape, pulling him closer as he licked his way in, past the tang of the Colonel’s 7 secret spices, and into something much sweeter. Stiles thought about milkshakes and misunderstandings, about waiting all night and how Scott looked afterwards. They’d also been in his Jeep.
He thought about that game, ‘Too Hot,’ how they could just kiss and kiss without touching, without creasing fancy jackets and ironed dress shirts, and how crazy they could get, denying each other.
This was their second first date.
Stiles was going to make it amazing.
He was breathless when he pulled away, dragging in clumsy gulps of air. If his head kept spinning, Stiles wouldn’t be able to drive. He was kind of afraid he’d crushed Scott’s corsage - either one of them. “I normally ask before… Y’know. On a first date.”
Stiles fell back into his seat, and it took too long for him to find his bearings. The gym couldn’t handle them right now.
___
“Hmmmmff!” He only flailed for a moment before melting into the kiss, urging Stiles deeper, wanting more. They had been so brazenly physical, Scott offering up every first he possessed after barely a few hours. He didn’t have any old fashioned illusions of purity and chastity attaching some sort of fictional value to his virginity, but it meant something important because it had been so easy and fearless. All of his experience, every bit of exploration into himself and what it meant to be with someone else had been with Stiles. Maybe he’d been naïve.
Even though they’d worked to mend the rifts, Scott hadn’t been able to find that same relaxed shameless joy they’d had before. He was guilty and ashamed now, unable to touch Stiles the way he wanted without thinking about the last time when he hadn’t listened to the word ‘no.’ It wasn’t that he didn’t want, Scot wanted with such intensity that he was sure he was going to split apart, he just couldn’t bear the thought of hurting Stiles again.
Tonight was a chance to start over. A real date, an awkward dance, everything so normal and utterly human. It was time to stop being afraid and heal this wound too. They could get back to that place again and with the way his body responded to Stiles’s kiss, Scott didn’t think it would take all that much. “I think kissing is allowed on the first date, Stiles. I might be up for some more of it tonight if you play your cards right.”
___
"I’m gonna charm your pants off" Stiles beamed wickedly. Not everyone got a second chance. He wanted to make sure this was the last one he needed. Stiles was kind of blinded by how much he wanted to hold him close, rip off his pants, and buy him coffee in the morning. Leaning forward, he let his nose brush against Scott’s; so close they were, he could taste his prize.
He was pretty sure their parents were watching. Stiles still moved in for another kiss before pulling out of the driveway. One for the road, and when he entered the gym, he had the hottest date on his arm. Stiles didn’t know much about party decor, but he knew one thing. Scott’s smile could power a small city. Nothing was worth watching more than his best friend.
The music was pounding. Their DJ was pretty awesome. Someone had spiked the punch before the party was halfway to done, and Stiles’ fears about the food were unwarranted. It was kind of brilliant. Stiles couldn’t dance. It was woven into the fabric of the universe, a fact for the ages, but goddammit, he tried. He got down with his bad self, and demanded Scott do the same, twirling him around the dancefloor with unabashed gall. Finstock told off couples to their right twice, for inappropriate behavior. Their coach was determinedly not looking at them, but maybe Stiles lead them right into Jackson’s line of sight just to prove a point.
When he kissed Scott under the disco ball, the point was that he could, and the entire school had no idea what they were missing.
___
The gym was covered with cheesy decorations and mood lighting, but Scott couldn’t remember anything looking too amazing. The punch burned his throat but his head stayed clear no matter how he tried. The alcohol was useless, but Stiles’s mouth blurred his thoughts as strong as any drink could. For one of the most popular kids in school, he really was awful on the dance floor and Scott laughed, joining in like he didn’t care who was watching. It was sheer luck no one got an elbow in the eye.
Scott caught a thumb’s up from Kira across the gym floor and grinned, returning the gesture as Allison dragged his friend out to dance. If Kira was going to bust a move, no one would be watching his flailing around anymore! It was the perfect night, Scott couldn’t have planned it any better if he tried. The death glares from Jackson and Lydia were drowned out by Boyd’s smile as he finally asked Erica to dance with him and Isaac cutting in with a laugh, stealing Boyd while Erica mock pouted. His friends were happy, the music made his heart beat in skipping rhythms, and Stiles was kissing him in front of the entire school.
He laced his fingers behind the other boy’s neck, swaying his body against Stiles and tuning everything else out. Now. This was the perfect moment he’d been waiting for. No more hesitating, just tell him. Scott smiled into his boyfriend’s mouth, pulling back just far enough to speak. “Stiles, I…I want to tell you. I know things have been rough, but you and me…I-I lo-“
“Scott McCall!!”
The boy started, blinking blindly into the spotlight that suddenly lit up around him. Everyone was cheering? “What?”
“Come on up here, Scott. You’ve got to get your crown!”
___
Scott had to keep doing it, just like that, nice and sweet with his broad hands and his very slow slow dancing. If he didn’t, Stiles might fall over. Those last three cups might have been a mistake, but Stiles’ face hurts because he’d been smiling all night. He missed the opportunity to be incredibly smug at Jackson. Instead, he was aggressively happy, and koala’d all around his gorgeous date, with his pretty eyes and sweet smile. He was pretty sure Erica growled at him at some point, in her bright red leather dress that no one else would have dreamed of putting on, but Stiles was too content to be threatened.
"You’re face is amazing," Stiles said in earnest, clumsily stroking the lines of Scott’s cheekbones, swaying to a beat the music wasn’t playing.
Then all at once there were lights in his eyes, and everyone was cheering, so Stiles was cheering, and whoo! “WHOO!”
The gym went wild. It probably helped that the lacrosse team had too much to drink. “Scott Muh-Call! SCOTT MUH-CALL!”
They were still hollering when Lydia Martin’s name was announced as Prom Queen to the surprise of no one. Scott looked like an angel, bathed in spotlight with a plastic dinky crown on his head. Stiles should have been cheering. He was too busy staring at his date with hopeless adoration.
That was his Scott. That could be his Scott, if Stiles just had the courage to say something. Someone demanded that Prom Royalty kiss, and the balloons came down because they were easier to clean than confetti.
___
Scott was pulled away reluctantly, passed from hands to hands until he found himself on stage and squinting out into the spotlight. His friends in the corner hollered obnoxiously loud, Kira jumping up and down excitedly and the boy curled his fingers in an awkward wave at them all. People were actually cheering for him, this was unbelievable. He’d wanted to stop being so invisible, but he never thought it would end up like this.
He ducked his head as he was crowned, putting a hand on the shiny plastic and grinning out over the crowd looking for that one face that knocked the breath from his lungs. Even Lydia looked like she was glowing and he bent, pressing a kiss to her cheek with murmured congratulations.
“You look beautiful.”
“I know I do, McCall. I don’t need you to validate my image….but thank you. You’re looking actually handsome for once.”
“That’s kind of a big compliment from you.” Scott teased lightly, leading her out to the middle of the floor for their dance. She wasn’t so bad, there was another side of her that he barely knew but he kept catching glimpses of something smart and vulnerable and brave in her. It was such a shame she decided to keep it so hidden.
“I’m actually glad you won.”
Scott pulled back slightly to frown down at the strawberry blonde. “Really? I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me anymore and I’d have thought you wanted Jackson to win.”
Lydia flipped her curls. “That asshole? Please. You’re a nice guy, Scott. A little too naïve sometimes, but it’s hard to hate you. Trust me, I’ve tried it. Now go ask him to dance instead of me.”
“Him?”
The girl rolled her eyes at the utter stupidity of boys and turned Scott to look at Stiles. “Him. You’re cute, but I don’t need a lost puppy. Besides, the captain of the swim team just broke up with his girlfriend and he’s cute in a speedo.”
Scott choked back a laugh, kissing her again. “Thank you, Lydia. You’re kind of an amazing person.”
“I know.” She winked at him and shoved him towards the crowd before pouncing on her target.
Scott awkwardly adjusted the crown on his head trying to project a confidence he didn’t quite feel. “Stiles, uh…so you wanna dance with me?”
___
This was going to be a problem.
The bone-deep, petty jealousy that washed over Stiles’ senses, it was definitely going to be a problem. Stiles didn’t know if he could blame it, at all, on the alcohol, but it felt like he’d been punched in the kidneys and was being held up on spikes. There was once a time he’d conceded to never loving someone as much as the girl of his dreams, resigned to a life of only caring for those who came in at a far second. Now he was terrified she would take Scott away, and Stiles didn’t know what to do about that.
Scott kissed Lydia like he would his mother, and Stiles kind of wanted to crash through a window.
He didn’t tackle Scott when he returned. He did not. It was a close call though. Scott looked like the biggest goober he’d ever seen, and Stiles wanted to smush his face between his hands, and kiss him for years.
"I dunno, Prom King. You’re kinda too lame for me," Stiles scoffed, as he reached up to push up the crown that kept sliding down Scott’s floppy bangs. His arm slid around his date’s waist with proprietary determination.
"You’re kind of amazing, Scott," Stiles whispered, pressing in close enough that his heart beat right next to Scott’s. This wasn’t going to last. This couldn’t, not with Finstock and a dozen already peeved chaperones. Stiles refused to pull away. "I just…. I really gotta tell you something. You’re really amazing and I-“
The lights flickered off. The music jumped, and in its place, roared a howl.
"I love you."
___
There was never a chance to say it back, the moment he’d waited all night for shattered. Scott grunted like he’d been punched, body bowing into Stiles as agony tore through him. “N-no…” Not here, not now! Everything had been quiet for so long, Scott had almost started believing it was over. The alpha was gone, there weren’t any more people getting hurt, this couldn’t be happening now!
“Stiles, I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” He gasped, eyes wide and edged with glowing blue. He couldn’t stay here, he had to get out. Already his skin itched as the change crawled along his nerves and he couldn’t pull it back. Scott stumbled away, choking on his panic. Get away…he had to get out of here. It was suddenly too loud and there were too many people pressed in around him, he had to get out now!! I’m sorry.
Scott fled, pushing his way through the other kids and bursting out into the parking lot. He struggled to breathe, stripping off his jacket and doubling over. The shift hit hard as he fought for control and he groaned as the wolf won. Screeching tired barely registered until the headlights flared in his eyes and he jumped instinctively, landing on the hood of the car that tried to run him down. Scott stared straight into the eyes of Chris Argent, fear rooting him to the spot before the car door flung open and the wolf took off running as voices shouted behind him.
Oh my god, he was dead.
Scott ran until his legs gave out, crashing down to his knees in the preserve and sobbing. They knew who he was and they’d find him. This wasn’t over, why couldn’t this nightmare just end? He needed to find Stiles, he had to warn Derek. The boy fisted his hands in his hair and howled.
___
Kill him.
The order was clear, and vicious. The Alpha demanded obedience, as his roar ricocheted through Scott’s mind, threatening to tear it apart if unheeded. Scott’s target was just as plainly presented, Adrian Harris, the most unwilling of chaperons. The howl got louder and louder, with every step Scott took.
Then all at once it cut off.
Back at the school, someone shrieked as a mountain lion tore apart everyone’s least favorite Chemistry teacher. A group of local hunters gave chase, headed by Chris Argent. By the time they returned, empty-handed and frustrated, the police had swarmed the area, and an ambulance was taking away a corpse.
"Dad, where are you going?" Stiles heard Allison say. That was his only warning before strong arms caught him by the shoulders, and forced him against a wall. Argent couldn’t catch werewolves, but he did a good job at pinning 16 year olds.
"Where is Scott McCall?" He asked, and Stiles thought of all the people who weren’t looking at them, trapped in their own grief, and overwhelmed by horror. Stiles didn’t call out for them.
"I don’t know who you’re talking about," Stiles hissed through clenched teeth, and he swore Argent’s grip got tighter.
"You don’t know what you’re dealing with. You don’t know what these monsters are capable of-"
"Are you going to set his house on fire for something he didn’t do as well, or are you gonna let your sister do all the dirty work?"
Chris pulled back like Stiles had taken a swing at him. Stiles was only too happy to put distance between them. The hunter looked like his world had been shattered, and Stiles would have been happy to take a sledgehammer to his skull.
He turned tail and ran, sprinting for the parking lot. The only good thing to come out of all this was knowing that his friend hadn’t been caught. His head was spinning. Stiles refused to believe Scott was responsible for Harris. He’d apologized, through agony, and Stiles wondered how far he’d gotten before the Alpha showed up. He didn’t have much time to wonder.
He didn’t recognize the man waiting by his jeep, but it wasn’t a disadvantage they shared.
"You must be Stiles."