Work Text:
“So where are we going?”
Stiles turned to Scott and shared a grin with his best friend as Kira’s head poked in between the driver’s head and passenger seat for the umpteenth time, repeating the same question that had been on her lips ever since she received the text to pack her bags and ask no questions. Allison sat next to her in the back of Stiles’ jeep, and as her eyes met his in the mirror, the two exchanged a smile. Somehow everything Kira did was simply adorable, and even though Stiles had insisted it was a surprise for over two hours he still wasn’t annoyed with the kitsune.
“You know I really hadn’t expected a kidnapping for my spring break.” Allison said in amusement as she glanced at her boyfriend and his best friend in the front. “I thought that normally only happens when we have school and a test the next day. And you aren’t the typical villainous masterminds behind it all.”
Stiles huffed in indignation – to which Allison responded by poking out her tongue – and Scott chuckled. It was true; everything terrible seemed to happen on Thursdays, and since Fridays were the universal test days as determined by the Supreme League of Evil Teachers Out to Fail Students (Stiles had been trying to convince his girlfriend to add the completely legitimate group into her family’s bestiary to no avail) it usually caused some problems for them.
Well at least for Scott and Stiles. They were just lucky test corrections existed.
“I promise you guys, you’ll love it.” Scott’s interjection was enough to placate both girls and Stiles simply rolled his eyes while his best friend grinned proudly. He was always good at calming the girls down while Stiles only ever seemed to rile them up, even when he was attempting to comfort them.
Privately Stiles thought it was what made the four of them work so well together. They had never imagined this for themselves – they still weren’t even fully sure what this was. They had a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy for themselves and others. As long as they themselves didn’t question what they were, they didn’t have to define it.
Scott and Allison had been it. They had been that first love, that heart beating in unison. They had been each other’s everything, their Romeo and Juliet. (Stiles winced at the comparison even in his own mind as his eyes instinctively flashed towards the deep scar on Allison’s waist, covered by her shirt. He didn’t like that metaphor anymore, not when it had been so close to reality.) But they had been star crossed from the start, and what was more they hadn’t been enough.
Allison wasn’t the same girl she had been when she arrived in Beacon Hills and Stiles knew it. He had stated that when Scott was never willing to. Allison was sharp now with hard edges. She had always been strong, but now she was no longer a rock but a dagger, ready to fight and defend. She needed someone who sharpened her edges, who clashed with her and made her better. Stiles hadn’t expected to be that person, but he found himself crashing into Allison, their lips colliding furiously in the secluded corners of the library, hands furiously tugging at clothes, hair, skin anything they could get their hands on. They didn’t say those three words, but at night when they clung to each other, comforting one another in the wake of a nightmare they didn’t need the words, not when their actions spoke so much louder.
But before Stiles and Allison or even Scott and Allison there had been Scott and Stiles. There had been two elementary school aged boys running around – one desperately wheezing from an inhaler, while the other flailed his arms wildly. There had been two boys who camped out on Scott’s living room floor together when the first anniversary of his mother’s death rolled around. There had been the two boys who lamented the fact they hadn’t known each other earlier, but rejoiced in the fact that they would be best friends forever. The two best friends who loved each other more than life and were willing to take a bullet for each other.
Scott had noticed how even though Stiles and Allison wasn’t defined, they gravitated towards each other, eyes always flickering to the other when in the same room. He had understood that they were two individual beings who didn’t need his approval to become something but he still understood what that nod meant to him anyways.
And Stiles understood that when they almost lost Allison, when Scott nearly lost Stiles and Allison in the same night, their worlds had shifted drastically. Now suddenly Allison was anchoring both of them, but she had almost drifted away, cut loose by a blade directed by Stiles’ own hand. Suddenly priorities changed and there were two relieved faces to greet Allison when she finally snapped her eyes open, babbling about saving Stiles and Lydia when she had nearly been lost forever.
Later Stiles would joke that they were so close they had lost their virginities to the same girl. Scott’s response – a whispered promise of the other things they could try together – had Stiles’ toes curling in his shoes and whining at Allison when she insisted they weren’t allowed to have too much fun without her.
Kira – they had never seen coming. Of course they had known about her. She was practically Scott’s girlfriend until Allison nearly died. Surprisingly enough – or not surprising at all to Stiles, as one of the few people still allowed to see the softer side of Allison – it had been their girlfriend to bring Kira into the fold. It made sense in the end, to all of them. Even though Allison was sharp and dangerous and drew blood, she fought viciously in the name of those that needed to be fought for, and cared voraciously for those she loved – to the point of taking a blade to the side and then using what could have been her dying breath to ensure her friends were safe and would remain safe.
She knew Kira still meant something to Scott, that their budding love hadn’t simply waned away because of a close call (the other three hated it when she referred to that night as a close call; it implied it might happen again) and she didn’t want it to. She knew Scott had room enough in his heart for more, and Kira quickly proved to have the same room.
It was Allison and Stiles who would be the question. Stiles and Allison who loved selfishly, greedily. Both selfless in the love and their proof of love, but possessive. They struggled and fought and the four of them never just clicked, but sometimes Stiles thought that was better. He didn’t want to click. He wanted to fight to make it work; it wasn’t worth it if it was easy.
That wasn’t to say it wasn’t easy. Lying in bed with Allison on a Saturday morning, tracing the scars and callouses of her hands as she slept, her face tranquil and innocent. Playing video games with Scott that inevitably lead to a wrestling match, which quickly lead to long lingering kisses as they gently tugged each other’s clothes off. Speaking animatedly with Kira or even just reading silently because much as he loved Scott and Allison no one understood his love of Japanese horror like the thunder kitsune.
No one seemed to disagree. Stiles’ father and Scott’s mother had been equal parts overjoyed and worried, but that was becoming more and more normal for the pair. Chris Argent had looked somewhat pained that his daughter was not only dating a werewolf but a kitsune (apparently a human Stiles was somehow worse than any other human) but there was still a desperation in his eyes that he could see reflected in Stiles and Scott and the three men understood how close they had been to losing her, and how that would have destroyed them.
Kira’s parents had been unhappy to say the least. The Yukimuras had attempted to move back to New York, however Kira had been lied to all her life and she wielded that card expertly, taught by the master of being manipulated, Allison Argent herself. The parents still were not pleased, however the strange little group didn’t really care.
When they told Derek he rolled his eyes and muttered something about teenagers and romance, though Stiles could have sworn he saw the grumpy werewolf look at Scott in concern, checking to make sure it was what the true alpha really wanted. Lydia accepted the information in her stride, but Allison told him quietly afterwards that she had looked at Stiles almost sadly. Stiles wasn’t sure if he believed that though; Lydia had busied herself with helping Malia integrate back into society, and there was a flush of pride and accomplishment every the banshee helped the were-coyote with something, and Malia’s expression of joy and need to please Lydia was visible from a mile away.
Stiles was jarred out of his thoughts as Scott turned, a wide grin splitting his face. “You girls wore your swimsuits right?” He asked, and both boys were rewarded with the sudden appearance of skin, Kira’s tanned skin contrasting with Allison’s porcelain complexion. Stiles tried not to drool or crash his jeep as he took in Kira’s bikini and Allison’s one piece that had multiple cutouts and actually appeared to reveal more skin than Kira’s, yet had a strap that strategically covered her large scar.
Pulling into the driveway, Stiles watched their eyes light up as they took in the cabin located on the beach, the sun setting over the waves creating a beautiful scene. Stiles cut the engine and turned to look at them, biting his lip and speaking uncharacteristically soft.
“This is where my mom and dad had their honeymoon. Scott and I used to come out here a lot, and we always sort of thought of it as our private paradise. We figured it was time to share it with you.”
Later, as the four of them ran in and out of the waves along the near empty beach, Stiles was so glad they had. He had always been selfish with this paradise, never wanting to spoil what he and Scott had found. But as he pinned Allison down on the sand, kissing her thoroughly, his hand wandering down Scott’s back as Kira’s hand ran over his shoulder, he realized they just made it better.
They didn’t click but that didn’t mean they weren’t right.