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we might just get away with this

Summary:

Scott drives out to bring Stiles back to Beacon Hills, but they both come back changed men.

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Everything is not okay. 

Stiles is pressed as far into the window as he can while still holding onto the steering wheel, knuckles white and jaw set. His eyes are fixed on the road, even though it’s been empty for miles. Scott squeezes his eyes shut. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. Stiles scowls. 

“I told you nothing’s wrong. Just– I’m just tired, okay?” 

 

The air in the Jeep is stale and alive with tension at once. So, maybe Scott hadn’t had time to take the car out in a while, but Stiles had just left it with him. Left just it with him. It had been weeks since the last time they’d talked, but Stiles had called excitedly a few days ago. He had the week off, and wanted Scott to come drive him back to Beacon Hills. Of course, Scott had practically lunged for the keys, ready to go before the call was over. Stiles had to convince him to wait until morning, and they’d both been perfectly happy at the end of the call. 

The next day was fine, too– everything was okay until he’d actually picked his best friend up. They’d caught up happily for the first hour, catching up to speed with every (surprisingly) normal thing going on in their lives. Then they started talking about relationships.

“Nah, I’m still not over Lydia.” Stiles sighs. “I know we didn’t date that long, but it was like, the Plan, right?”

“Yeah.” Scott wriggles in his seat. “She’s– she’s doing good! It wasn’t out of spite or anything, you know.”

“Yeah. I guess it took us all a while to get ourselves together. I’m happy for her, though. Figures it would be both our exes,” Stiles jokes. Allison and Isaac had come back from France, broken up but still together, and it hadn’t taken long for the reunited girls to announce their relationship to the pack. Scott thought nothing had ever been more right, because he loved both of them but never in the way they could love each other. 

“But really, nothing? No hot FBI flings?” Scott grins.

“It’s just her. For so long, I thought she was the one. And then I left and it was like, whoa, the whole Plan is going down the drain and who even am I? Maybe I like h- uh, her a lot more than I thought, and should I fight for her? Maybe she doesn’t even feel the same way?”

Scott winces. “Yeah, dude, I’d say she really doesn’t feel the same way. No offense.”

“Right. Lydia.” Stiles huffs. “Girls are complicated.”

“I mean, not really. She did tell you exactly what she wanted.” Scott leans back. 

“I– yeah. You’re right.” Stiles smells frustrated, and– and like he’s hiding something. Scott doesn’t want to press, but he’s acting kind of off. He’s never had a problem with any of their gay friends, but he had really liked Lydia, maybe he was just hurting, probably. 

“It’s just, she’s so amazing. I guess I never really took the time to just deal with it, how I really felt, and when I finally did it was all over. And like, I probably lost my shot now, because it feels like I just ran off and abandoned you– you all, and so coming back, I just feel so… so gone.” Stiles shifts awkwardly, not looking at him. 

“Dude.” Scott leans over. “You left to do something you love, we all understand and we’re happy. Lydia and Allison– come on, they were probably always going to get together, I’m surprised it took this long. You can move on, you know?”

“I don’t– Lydia–” Stiles takes a deep breath. “Maybe I don’t want to move on from this.”

Something green-eyed and ugly rears its head in Scott’s chest. 

“It wasn’t that easy for me, either,” he snaps. “I loved Allison too, but I want her to be happy. Isaac, Lydia– whoever that’s with.”

“I know, Scott. It’s not about…” Stiles swallows. “I’m trying to say–”

Something cracks, sending splinters through his familiar scent. Scott wrinkles his nose, because it smells a little bit like terror. 

“Nevermind. You’re still right.” Stiles laughs bitterly. 

“Stiles…” Scott reaches his hand out, freezing when Stiles flinches. “You know you can tell me anything.” 

“Yeah. Just forget about it, please.” Stiles blinks hard. “Can you check where the next gas station is?”

“Okay,” Scott mumbles, reaching for his phone. “There’s no signal.”

“Great.” Stiles sighs. “I think there’s a paper map somewhere in the glove box.”

Scott rummages around, throat closing when he can’t find it. “I think there was one a few miles up. 

Stiles’ jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. And that’s how they end up like this, as far as humanly possible from each other in the stifling Jeep. 

 

“Stiles, it’s for you. I want you to be happy, too–” Scott starts.

“Please, can you drop it? I told you you’re right.” Stiles’ voice shakes with anger and something that stabs into Scott’s gut. “And, you’re right again. I think that’s a gas station up there.”

Practically in the middle of nowhere alongside a little grocery store and an old welcome sign, Scott sees a single pump alongside a small shack. Neither of them speaks until they pull up to it.

“‘M gonna go to the bathroom first.” Stiles unbuckles his seatbelt, quickly fleeing the car. Scott draws a hand across his face, confused. Something isn’t right, and it’s not about Lydia.

He hops out, heading over to the little shack. It’s bare bones, a single bored teenager at the cashier and a couple shelves of snacks. Scott grabs two cherry Cokes and a pack of Oreo knock-offs, paying at the front. 

“Thanks for coming in,” the cashier drones as the bell on the door rings. Scott turns to see Stiles.

“There you are. Ready?” Soundlessly, Scott hands him a drink and follows him out. 

He hesitates outside the car, though. Stiles looks up expectantly. 

“We have a few hours left to get home. Can we– can we talk?” Scott asks. “And don’t tell me there’s nothing to talk about, I can tell.”

“Scott,” Stiles pleads. “I– I can’t. It’s not your fault, it’s completely mine but I’m not ready yet. It’s too much.”

“That’s okay, I promise, but I want to help.” Scott crosses his arms, dropping the plastic bag of snacks to settle against the hood of the car. “You don’t have to tell me all of it, but you’re hurting, and if it’s about the girls–”

“It’s not about them.” Stiles squeezes his eyes shut. “Well, it is, but not– not like actually them. It’s not Lydia. It’s– when we broke up, it wasn’t exactly mutual, but it was. Um, We talked. About things. And Lydia told me she was in love with her best friend, and always would be, and how she felt about girls–” Stiles cuts off, and he’s crying. Scott moves reflexively to hug him, relieved when Stiles relaxes into his arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothes. 

“It’s not.” Stiles pulls away. “I have to tell you… Um, Lydia helped me realize that I’m– I’m bi. And, there were a lot of signs, and a lot of things I should’ve realized, but– yeah. I like boys, too.”

“Oh,” Scott breathes. “You– you could’ve told me–”

“I know!” Stiles shudders, wiping at his eyes. “I was just scared and you’re my favorite person and I know you’d never react badly but I– I just couldn’t even think about losing you and it felt like something was crushing my chest whenever I thought about how to tell you and–” 

“Hey, no, I’m sorry.” Scott reaches for Stiles, twining their hands together. “Thank you for trusting me. I know how hard it is, and I didn’t mean to make it seem like it wasn’t.”

There’s a beat of silence for Scott to realize his mistake.

“You know?” Stiles whispers. Oops. 

“I mean, like, I can feel it. Through the link.” Scott winces. He’s never been able to lie to Stiles, and when the hurt flashes across his face, he cracks.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to take away from your moment.” Scott smiles ruefully. “I kind of just figured it out, I was gonna tell you when we got home.”

“Oh.” Stiles blinks. “You’re…”

“I’m– I’m not super sure? I don’t really like labels, but I know I don’t just like girls.” Scott swallows. Strawberry-blonde guilt flashes through his mind, and he braces himself. “And… and there’s something else, that I guess I just realized when I lost it. I guess I’ve felt it for so long it took you leaving for me to realize just how important you are to me, or– or how important, like more than just a friend. I’m– I haven’t meant to be distant, but I was trying to figure out how to tell you the right way.”

“Yeah?” Stiles asks softly. His eyes are still glossy, but there’s something unexpected shining through. “Scott, do you– um, I don’t want to assume what you’re saying but–”

Scott squeezes his fingers, maybe for the last time. “I just feel right when I’m with you, you know?”

“Right.” Stiles swallows. “So, when I wouldn’t shut up about Lydia–”

“I was jealous,” Scott whispers. “I wanted you to be talking like that about me.”

Stiles stares at him, and it’s long enough that Scott is going to let him go and apologize and maybe run all the way back to Beacon Hills when–

When Stiles’ hand comes up to cup his jaw. 

“You,” he murmurs. “You?”

Scott leans into the touch, breath hitching. 

Then one hand moves to his hip as the other tangles through his hair, and Stiles is crashing forward, knee between Scott’s thighs, crowding him against the hood of the Jeep. It takes a second for Scott to process that the soft whine ringing in his ears is his, and that Stiles’ mouth is pressing hungrily against his.

Scott surges into him, hands moving to Stiles’ waist as the other pushes him down. Stiles licks desperately at the seam of his lips, sighing when Scott opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. He hauls the pale boy up into his lap, fingers settling on his hips. He giggles as Stiles’ eyes fly open, scrambling to balance himself at the shift. 

“Scott,” Stiles gasps, steadying himself on Scott’s chest. “I was, obviously, it was about you– I mean, if we could’ve all along– you didn’t say–” 

“I didn’t realize, duh.” Scott lays back, laughing. “It was not obvious at all. You could’ve made the first move, too.”

“Oh, right, and you would’ve been so into that.” Stiles pokes his side. 

“Yeah, I’m definitely making out with you in the middle of nowhere because I’m not into you.”

Scott sits up, pulling Stiles with him. “I’m serious, dude, I really like you. I finally figured it out, and I know it took forever, but we’re here now.”

Stiles hops off of the hood. “One, don’t call me dude, you literally just had your tongue down my throat. Two,” he holds a hand out. “But you and me? That sounds right.”

Scott takes his hand, sliding down to follow. “So, you and me…”

Stiles’ smile glitters in the setting sun. “We can play it by ear? Just like we always have.” 

You’ve still got me, echoes through Scott’s mind, and he squeezes Stiles hand. “Yup.”

They both turn back to the Jeep, remembering just exactly what was going on. Stiles laughs about public indecency and really, Scott, you had to jump my bones the only place we’ve stopped with an audience and Scott doesn’t mention how Stiles jumped him because his best friend is gleeful and his scent is warm. Still, they have no clue where they are. Just as Scott is going to resign himself to asking help from the sullen cashier, Stiles lights up. 

“The map!” He darts over to the back door, where half of the map sticks out of the bottom. “It probably got caught at some point, no wonder we couldn't find it.”

“Augh.” Scott wraps his arms around Stiles’ back, kissing at his nape. “Hey, we probably wouldn’t have gotten out shit together if not for the little detour.”

Stiles twists around to kiss him properly. “Hm, worth it.”

They break apart, Stiles chattering on as he settles behind the wheel. Scott grins, directing them back onto the route from the passenger seat. This time, though, Stiles’ hand is warm on his thigh as they sing along to the corny pop songs on the radio. Yeah, it was more than worth it.