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Stiles watched Derek and Erica stalk away, knowing neither him nor Scott could do anything to stop them. He was soaking wet and freezing and every muscle in his body ached. He could barely move, let alone stop two werewolves from doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.
“Come on,” Scott said gravely, closing the laptop and pulling the thumb drive out, pocketing it. “Let me take you home.”
Stiles was about to argue, refuse, since Scott clearly wanted to do other things--either chase off after Derek or go find Allison, most likely--but he wasn’t sure he could make it two blocks in his condition, much less the two miles it was to his house. His legs were beginning to buckle under the stress of having to hold up a full-grown man in a pool for two hours. All he really wanted was to get home, get changed, and pass out for three days.
The ride to his house was quiet and tense. Stiles was kind of glad for the silence, since he was exhausted as hell, but he wished Scott would say something, anything. It was a rare thing that he couldn’t think of anything to fill an awkward silence, but he was drawing a complete blank.
When they pulled up in front of his house, Scott climbed out with him.
Stiles flashed him half a grin. “Walking me to the door? What am I, your date?”
“I’m walking you inside,” Scott growled, not even giving him an exasperated eye-roll back. Stiles frowned as Scott walked around the car to Stiles’ side, placing a hand at the small of his back and urging him forward, glancing around at their surroundings, as if the kanima was going to jump out at them from the shadows. It was strange behavior, even for Scott.
When they got inside, Scott even followed him up to his room. As Stiles stripped off wet clothes, Scott moved over to his window, shut it, and locked it, closing the curtains. He kept his back turned as Stiles changed and only turned back around when Stiles announced he was good. It was nice to change into something clean and dry and warm, and he instantly felt a lot better.
“Keep the windows locked, don’t answer the door for anyone,” Scott told him, stepping up close to him and breathing deep, as if taking in his scent. “Are you hurt at all? Do you need me to call anyone?”
“No, Mom,” Stiles snapped sarcastically. “Dude, I’m fine. I don’t think it was even really after me--”
“Twice in the last two days, it’s found it’s way to you while I wasn’t there,” Scott said, frowning. He reached out and put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, squeezing. “I’m not taking any more chances. Not with you. You almost died tonight, Stiles. What if Allison hadn’t figured it out? What if I never went up to the school at all tonight? I fucking hung up on you and you almost--”
“Hey,” Stiles soothed, stepping closer. “Scott, I’m fine. You got there. I didn’t get hurt.”
“I saw you go under and I, my heart just stopped,” Scott whispered. “I thought I was too late. Even when I pulled you out, I was so scared that it killed you--”
“It didn’t,” Stiles insisted. “I’m right here.” Scott looked right into his eyes and held his stare for a long moment before he did something that Stiles wasn’t prepared for at all.
He leaned over and pressed their lips together. The kiss was sweet but short; Stiles pulled away, butterflies in his stomach.
“Why--why did you--”
Scott pulled him back in gently. “Please, just let me--”
They kissed again, and this time Stiles let himself sink into it, parting his lips against Scott’s mouth. He closed his eyes as Scott’s arms wound around his waist, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as much as Stiles would allow. It could have lasted a couple seconds or a couple days--Stiles lost track of time.
They pulled apart with a soft, wet sound, but didn’t move any further for a few moments, catching their breath together.
“You should go,” Stiles whispered, at a loss for what else to say. Scott shook his head. “Dude, seriously, you’re pretty much the only thing holding me up right now.”
“Do you want me to be here when you wake up?” Scott asked. “I think we need to talk.”
Stiles considered it. It wouldn’t be the first impromptu sleepover they’d had in this room. Hell, it wouldn’t even be the first time his dad walked in on them sleeping in the same bed. But Stiles shook his head.
“You have to go pick up your mom, you have her car,” he reminded Scott. “Go. Come back tomorrow. We’ll talk.”
Scott nodded and stepped back. It was suddenly cold where they’d been touching.
“Please be safe,” Scott told him. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” He left, and Stiles could hear him going through the house and checking the windows. He wanted to be annoyed by Scott’s overprotectiveness, but all he could manage to feel was warm and safe.
Stiles, despite the excitement of the day and all the thoughts racing through his head, was asleep the second his head hit his pillow.