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Part 7 of rare ships
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2015-11-08
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things you said on my couch

Summary:

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Stiles’ lips part, and he glances around to see if there’s anyone else watching them. He doesn’t see anyone with a video camera, so it can’t be a prank. He thought this was going to be his pizza delivery girl, coming to drop off his usual Tuesday order. Hell, he didn’t even call to order his pizza anymore. Caitlin just showed up anyway. Stiles takes half a step back and it’s enough for Jackson to storm in.

Notes:

Originally posted here.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Stiles’ lips part, and he glances around to see if there’s anyone else watching them. He doesn’t see anyone with a video camera, so it can’t be a prank. He thought this was going to be his pizza delivery girl, coming to drop off his usual Tuesday order. Hell, he didn’t even call to order his pizza anymore. Caitlin just showed up anyway. Stiles takes half a step back and it’s enough for Jackson to storm in.

He turns, confused, and wondering why Jackson has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Not to mention why the hell he’s even here right now. They aren’t friends. They’ve never been friends. They insult each other and try to be the better sarcastic asshole in their group of friends. Stiles is pretty sure they barely tolerate one another. “Jackson–”

“No. I don’t want to talk about it, Stilinski. Now, I know this is your one night a week where you sit around all night watching shitty movies, so I’m going to join you. You’re not going to ask any questions and we’re not going to tellanyone that I came here.”

Stiles shuts the door behind him and watches as Jackson walks into his living room and makes himself comfortable on the couch. Stiles’ phone buzzes a second later and he pulls it out of his pocket.



LYDIA: i just broke up with jackson
LYDIA: could you swing by his place and check on him for me? I know you hate him and he hates you but…can you do this for me? everyone else is busy and I want to make sure he’s going to be okay



Stiles leans against the wall that leads into the living room. He reads the messages again. Jackson and Lydia have been dating for the past six years. Last Stiles heard, Jackson had decided to propose. He’d gotten a ring and everything. Stiles closes his eyes. He could’ve told Jackson that Lydia was going to break up with him. In fact, he had.

He winces at that memory. Jackson had been going on and on to Scott about his plan to propose. Stiles had gotten annoyed listening, so he had said, “Why bother? We all know she’s going to dump your sorry ass sometime, anyway.”

He types a quick message to Lydia.



STILES:  you got it, lyds.



“Why are you just standing there? Let’s start your shitty movie marathon,” Jackson snaps.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “I don’t start it until my order of pizza comes in. You’re a bit early.”

“Oh.”

“Jackson–”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jackson repeats.

“Do you want your own pizza?” Stiles asks instead. Jackson nods and he dials the pizza place. “Hey, it’s Stiles.”

We were just about to send someone out,” Heather says. “Do you not want your pizza tonight?”

“I wanted to add another one to the order tonight. Hawaiian with extra pineapple and some of your roasted garlic dipping sauce,” Stiles says, ignoring the surprise on Jackson’s face. He pays attention to the guy’s favourite pizza,so what? It wasn’t a big deal.

Oh, someone joining you tonight?” Heather asks on the phone.

“Yeah.”

He looks back at Jackson on the couch.

 

“Yeah,” Stiles repeats. He can see Jackson holding something in his hand and his stomach clenches when he realizes it’s a small ring box. “Thanks, Heather. You guys are always so great.”

“Let me know if there’s anything else. Caitlin will be heading out in about ten minutes,” Heather tells him. “Thanks for calling, Stiles!”

“Thanks!” Stiles hangs up and goes to join Jackson on the couch. “The pizza will be here in about fifteen minutes. We’re going to use that fifteen minutes to talk about why you’re holding Lydia’s engagement ring in your hands and then when the pizza shows up, we’re going to stop talking and drown ourselves in shitty movies.”

Jackson lifts his head to look at Stiles. “Oh. Okay.”

Stiles nods and takes a deep breath. “Alright, Jackson, what happened?”

“I was–she was–she looked–” Jackson inhales sharply and then closes his eyes. Stiles watches as he thumbs the velvet ring box in his hands. “I was about to propose. I had everything booked for Friday night. I came home tonight and Lydia had the ring in her hands.”

Stiles shifts closer to Jackson. “She found it?”

“Yeah.” Jackson looks down at the box. He opens it and pulls out the ring. “She was looking at it as though it was a fucking business plan gone wrong. There wasn’t any happiness or excitement on her face. And then she looked at me and said we needed to talk.”

“I–harsh.”

“Harsh is right. She sat me down and told me it wasn’t going to work. That she knew I–that she knew she was in love with someone else. That I wasn’t anything more than a friend to her anymore. She pointed out that we hadn’t had unscheduled sex in three years,” Jackson mutters.

“Unscheduled–sex–you guys scheduled when you would have sex?” Stiles asks. He’s trying not to laugh but who does that?

“We’re busy people,” Jackson defends. Stiles reaches out to take the ring and box away from him. He closes it and sets it on the coffee table. “She doesn’t love me anymore. Just like that. We’re done. Over. Nada. Fin.”

Stiles isn’t sure what to say to that. He’s never been good at comforting people. He only knows that Jackson needs to talk about it. Otherwise, Jackson would bottle it up and explode on him later. It’s kind of a thing they do.

"I should be more upset.”

“You should?” Stiles asks, surprised. He figured that Jackson showing up on his doorstep with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and every intention of crashing his bad movie night meant that he was devastated.

“I should. I mean, I am. I am upset. I am. Only–Lydia’s in love with Allison and well…”

“It’s hard to begrudge them that,” Stiles says, frowning.

“Ally’s been in love with Lydia for years,” Jackson grumbles. He shakes his head. “Why didn’t I see this coming?”

Stiles shrugs. “Honestly, I didn’t see it coming either.”

“Yes, you did! You called it three months ago!” Jackson looks a little panicked now. “You knew. She told you, didn’t she?”

"She didn’t tell me anything. I just know that neither of you seemed very happy with each other. I guess you did. You were excited about proposing,” Stiles sighs. Tonight is not about him. Not about how he really wishes that Jackson would shove him against the wall and make out with him. No. It’s about Jackson being dumped and sad about it.

Jackson frowns at his hands. He tugs the blanket closer to him and murmurs, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without her Stiles. Does this mean you become her friend and we never see each other now?”

Out of everything that has happened so far tonight, that question is the most surprising to Stiles. He shifts closer to Jackson, reaching out to grab one of his hands. “No, that’s not what that means. I’m stunned you aren’t happy to be rid of me, but I’ll totally hang out with you.”

Jackson nods. “Okay.”

Stiles realizes that he’s hurting more than he admits. Jackson’s crying so softly he almost missed it because he’s ducking his head to hide it. Stiles shifts even closer again so he can get a bigger grip on his hands. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks.”

Stiles figures there are no rules tonight, so he leans forward and brushes some of Jackson’s tears from his cheeks. It’s a strangely intimate moment and he feels his stomach flip. Fuck, he’d been crazy about Jackson for far too long. He doesn’t even know how to be a proper friend.

“Stiles, you have to be brutally honest with me, okay? You’re the only one who will be.”

He doesn’t keep speaking until Stiles says, “Okay.”

“Am I gonna lose everyone as friends? Because I’m not the easiest person to get along with and–and I know people like Lydia more and it’s just that I can’t really make friends. I don’t know how and I–”

Stiles snuggles in closer to Jackson, pinning himself between Jackson and the back of the couch. He wraps both of his hands around Jackson’s and he leans his head back against Jackson’s chest. “You might be a dick, but you’reour dick. That’s not going to change.”

“I’m sure you could be a big enough dick for the both of us,” Jackson mutters.

Stiles l ets out a strangled laugh and shakes his head. “Nawh, Jackie, you’re one of a kind. And you’re one of us. I’ll make sure it doesn’t change.”

“I hate when you call me Jackie,” he mutters.

When Stiles turns to look, he sees a small smile cross Jackson’s face. For now, it’s enough. The doorbell rings at that exact moment and Stiles jumps up to get the pizza.

“You have a male suitor over tonight?” Caitlin asks, only being able to see the back of Jackson’s head.

“Something like that. He’s joining me for my bad movie marathon,” Stiles says, smiling.

“That’s nice. Heather and I were talking about how good it is that you’ve finally got someone to do this with. Thanks,” she says when he hands her money. “I hope you two have a nice night.”

“Thanks. Back at you and Heather. And maybe you should take her out on a date before you two start sticking your nose around my business.” There isn’t heat in the words, just a bright, teasing smile.

She laughs and shakes her head. “Yeah, whatever you say, Stilinski. Heather’s straight as straight can come.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so. Have a good night, Cait.”

“Night, Stiles. Go pretend to watch some movies!” Caitlin shouts over her shoulder.

Stiles can’t help but smile, even as he brings Jackson the pizza. Jackson sets out the boxes while Stiles walks over to his DVD player.

“What are we watching tonight, anyway?” Jackson asks.

“First movie up is Ten Things I Hate About You.” Stiles pulls it from his collection. Honestly, he hadn’t planned on watching this movie at all. He likes the similarities in Kat and Patrick’s relationship with him and Jackson. Thinks that maybe two assholes really could fall in love.

Jackson scoffs. “I thought you were supposed to marathon bad movies.”

“No,” Stiles says, amused. “That’s what everyone assumes I do.”

“Oh. Okay. Cool.”

That’s the last thing that they talk about. Stiles settles on the couch, but this time he doesn’t touch Jackson. They keep to their separate ens of the couch and it isn’t until the pizza’s all gone that Stiles tucks his feet underneath him.

“You okay?” Stiles asks midway through the movie.

Jackson looks at him. “Eh.”

Stiles nods.



♈ ♌ ♈ ♌ ♈



They don’t talk for the rest of the night, except when Stiles is changing movies and asks Jackson if he has any special requests. He shakes his head no.

During the last movie that started around 1am, Jackson stretches out and curls up against Stiles. They must fall asleep like that, because when Stiles wakes up, his fingers are in Jackson’s soft hair.

He doesn’t want to move though, so he closes his eyes and pretends he’s still asleep.

Not long after, Jackson’s quietly getting off the couch and slipping out of Stiles’ house. He tries not to be upset, but he fails. Moping around for the rest of the week is unavoidable.



♈ ♌ ♈ ♌ ♈



Jackson comes over the following week. Stiles isn’t sure what he expected, but he’s relieved. He asks him how he’s been lately, and Jackson grunts. He forgets to call Heather at Joe’s Pizza, but it doesn’t matter. Caitlin arrives with two pizzas and a wink.

“We had a feeling. You’re a tough one to resist, Stiles. I should know. I keep coming back every week.”

He’s not sure what to say to that, but then Jackson’s coming up beside him and handing her money. Stiles blinks at him. He honestly hadn’t expected that. Jackson smiles, giving her that look he gives people he’s into. Stiles should know. He’s never seen Jackson smile at him like that before. “I’ve got this tonight. Hi. I’m Jackson.”

Stiles presses his lips together. Is Jackson seriously about to hit on Stiles’ friend? In front of him? He wants to disappear for a minute. But then Caitlin’s introducing herself with a bright smile. “Caitlin. I’m happy to see that Stiles finally has someone.”

Jackson nods, not bother to look at Stiles. “You always deliver his pizzas?”

Caitlin’s head bobs. “Yeah. He doesn’t even call in the order anymore. Heather and I just assume he wants it since he hasn’t missed a week in almost two years.”

Amused, Jackson glances at Stiles now. “You’ve been doing this for two years?”

“Shut up.”

“You’ll also be pleased to know that I took your advice, Stiles. Got myself a date with Heather.” Caitlin winks at Stiles. “I’m going to rock her world.”

Stiles laughs and holds his arms out to hug her. “That’s great! I’m so happy for you. I want details after your date, okay? And don’t think I’m not willing to call Heather up at the pizzeria to ask.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t doubt you will. I’ll let you know. I gotta go, but it was great meeting you, Jackson.”

Caitlin kisses Stiles’ cheek before she skips back down the walkway towards her car. Stiles waves bye and then he shuts the door. Jackson has already headed into the living room with the pizza. “She seems nice.”

“Caitlin’s great. So is Heather. They’ve had unresolved tension ever since I’ve known them. I’m glad to see they’re finally making a move.”

“Maybe,” Jackson starts with his voice quieter than usual. “Maybe they weren’t ready just yet.”

Stiles shrugs. “Probably not. But maybe they’ve spent too much time pining over each other, only to be disappointed when they finally get together? Like they’ve built it up in their mind to be something bigger than it is. That’s a big risk to take.”

Jackson ducks his head and opens his box of pizza. He doesn’t say much after that. He just asks what movies they’re watching tonight and Stiles gets the DVD player ready. When they sit on the couch, there’s a foot of space between them.

Stiles tries not to wonder what it’d be like if he closed any space between them. If he climbed on top of Jackson’s lap and made out with him like a horny teenager. He swallows, feeling himself grow tense. Jackson’s legs are casually spread apart and Stiles’ eyes linger a moment too long on the space on the floor where he could get on his knees…

“God, why are people such idiots?” Jackson asks, glaring at the TV screen. Stiles jumps and turns to focus on another slice of pizza. Fuck, he cannotget hard while sitting here watching a movie with Jackson. That’d be so embarrassing. How would he even explain it? This wasn’t exactly a sexy movie. “I mean, anyone can see that they’re supposed to end up together. They’re fucking morons, thinking that they can be just friends. There’s so much sexual tension between them I could break a knuckle punching it.”

Stiles laughs, amused by Jackson’s sudden outrage. He leans into him to bump his shoulder against Jackson’s. “You okay there, buddy?”

Jackson’s lips are pressed tightly. He shakes his head, not taking his eyes off the movie. Stiles’ amusement evaporates. He reaches out and puts a hand on Jackson’s knee. So quietly that Stiles might have missed it had he not been looking at Jackson’s face, he says, “No. We were supposed to be together forever.”

He doesn’t know how to help Jackson, so he puts down his pizza and shuffles closer. Stiles slips his fingers in between Jackson’s and squeezes. He leans his cheek against his shoulder and says, “It’s going to be okay. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it will be. I promise.”

Jackson leans his face against the top of Stiles’ head. He sighs. “Is it always going to hurt?”

“I don’t really know. I’ve only been almost in love once,” Stiles admits.

“Really? With who?”

“It doesn’t matter now. They didn’t feel the same way, so it didn’t work out. Besides, they were seeing someone anyway.” Stiles lets out a breath as though he’d said too much. He wonders if Jackson has any clue, any idea. He hopes not. He doesn’t want to make this weird or uncomfortable for him.

“Sucks,” Jackson mumbles. “Really fucking sucks, Stiles.”

“Yeah.”

They become quiet then. Stiles squeezes Jackson’s hand a little tighter when he remembers that this is all they’d ever be. He thinks he might miss Jackson being a snarky asshole to him. This quiet, understanding Jackson is a bit unnerving. But then Jackson gives the softest sigh, as if he’s content, and Stiles melts. This might be his favourite side of Jackson just yet.

“You love them a lot?” Jackson asks after a while.

Stiles shrugs against him. “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.”

I’m starting to.

“Sucks,” Jackson repeats. “Um. Stilinski, they’re missing out.”

He snorts. “Thanks, Jackie. So confident with that self-esteem boost.”

Jackson laughs and it’s the first time Stiles has heard the sound in a while. He jumps in surprise. Jackson nudges him and mutters, “Shut up. I’m not good at this stuff. But I…um, I want to be.”

“Okay,” Stiles says, because he doesn’t know what to make of that.

“With you,” Jackson adds after a beat.

Stiles tightens his fingers around Jackson’s and promises, “We’ll work on it.”

It takes them a while before they start to actually pay attention to the movie again. Jackson makes Stiles reverse the movie so they can watch from when he started yelling at the screen.

Occasionally, Jackson will mutter about how ridiculous the characters are being and that they’re the biggest idiots in the world. But when they end up together, he’s brushing away a few tears. Stiles isn’t sure if he should acknowledge it or if Jackson wants to pretend it didn’t happen. Then Jackson pushes his face into the top of Stiles’ head and rubs his nose in his hair.

“I hate love.”

Stiles huffs. “Yeah. Me too. It never ends well, huh?”

“You’re not kidding,” Jackson mumbles. “This is so confusing.”

“What is?” Stiles asks, his heart beat pounds so hard he can feel it in his throat. His voice catches when he repeats the question.

Jackson doesn’t answer. Instead, he asks for the next movie. “I don’t want some sappy shit. I can’t do that tonight.”

He gets up, untangling himself from Jackson. His body instantly becomes cold, and he gets goosebumps moving around in the cool air. Stiles fumbles around and tries to find a shitty action movie that Boyd had left him a few years ago.

“I think I might be upset that Lydia left me because I’m not sure anyone else can love me.”

Stiles hesitates when he puts the DVD into the player. He doesn’t respond, because he’s pretty sure the next words out of his mouth are going to be“But I love you. I do. I’m so desperately in love with you, Jackson. No one pushes my buttons more. No one challenges me as much. No one is you.”

He says nothing. Clicks play and goes back to sit on the couch. His breath catches when Jackson pulls him closer.

“It’s nice,” Jackson admits.

Nice. Right. Nice. He probably does this with Danny all the time. Super platonic and super…nice. Stiles bites down on his bottom lip and holds back any confessions that might come out of his mouth.

Once again, Stiles has no idea what happens in this movie that Boyd had wanted him to like. He can’t focus on anything except how Jackson keeps stroking his thumb on Stiles’ hand.

No one is you, Stiles wants to tell him.



♈ ♌ ♈ ♌ ♈



It becomes a habit, a routine. Jackson shows up on Tuesdays around six, and sprawls out on Stiles’ couch. He tends to pay for the pizzas, talking to Caitlin with more ease than he had the first time. He throws popcorn at Stiles when he suggests they watch an old zombie movie. It’s easy. Fuck, it’s so easy.

Stiles doesn’t really know what to tell his friends, so he says nothing. Jackson doesn’t bring it up either. But they notice. They can see the subtle changes in their relationship. Now when Jackson insults Stiles, he gives him a fond look, and when Stiles’ tells Jackson to shove it up his ass, he gives him a big wink.

Lydia and Allison started dating a few weeks ago. That week, Jackson comes over with a blanket around his shoulders and a pair of slippers on. He wears a ripped t-shirt and a pair of designer sweatpants. Stiles pulls out two tubs of Ben and Jerry’s and is surprised when Jackson eats them both. They don’t talk much that night.

Slowly though, Jackson seems to be doing a lot better. In fact, he even smiles at Stiles sometimes.

It’s almost been two months by the time Stiles gives Jackson a key to let himself in on Tuesdays. He swears it’s because he had a late exam and he wouldn’t be home right at six. He wants Jackson to be there to get the pizza. Except he never asks for the key back and Jackson starts coming around a lot more during the week.

Stiles knows their platonic cuddling doesn’t mean anything romantically or sexually. He knows that, but it doesn’t matter.

This week he’s struggling to breathe normally. Jackson had gotten rid of the sweatpants that fit him loosely for a pair that fit him a bit more snug. He wants to tell Jackson that the way he’s sitting on the couch, with his legs spread apart, the material is clinging to him.

He really does.

He wants to point out the fact that he can see the outline of something very in particular.

But Stiles just drops the DVD case instead.

“You okay?” Jackson asks. He leans forward and his tight shirt comes up at the back. Stiles can see a bit of skin on his side.

He nods because he can’t breathe. What had he been thinking? Jackson would always be in love with Lydia. He would never look at Stiles as anything but a friend. Stiles would continue to find his heart aching in the middle of the night when he remembers that it’s an impossible situation. Stiles wants to be okay with just being friends. Jackson’s friendship has come to mean so much to him.

But then Jackson has to go and look like that and remind Stiles why he couldn’t control his hormones in the first place. Fuck, he’d fought his feelings for so long. Fought the urges to think of Jackson when he jacked himself off. When he gave in though, man, when he gave in everything had changed.

Stiles had dove head first into falling for Jackson. He had managed to keep it a secret from most people. Most people did not include Lydia though. Once she’d found out, she’d pat his hand sympathetically. She hadn’t hated him for being in love with her boyfriend though. No, Lydia’s not like that.

She’d taken it upon herself to break up with Jackson instead. She had told Stiles in private that it was to give him a chance—had explained that she had been crazy in love with Allison for far too long, and ending it to give her friend a chance at happiness was a perfect excuse. Less selfish.

He’d broken Jackson’s heart.

“I…”

“Stiles?” Jackson prompts after a moment. “What’s going on with you? You look pale.”

Tears prick at his eyes and he swears he’s not going to cry in front of Jackson. He’s not.

He does. He sits down on the floor and covers his face.

“Stiles,” Jackson whispers, close to him now. On the floor beside him. Jackson’s hands are trying to pull his away from his face. “Stiles, what’s going on? Talk to me. Are you having a panic attack?”

“No, no—it’s just—this…this isn’t working for me anymore,” Stiles responds. He ducks his face, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Jackson, this isn’t healthy.”

“Wait, what?” Jackson sputters. “This is probably the healthiest relationship I’ve ever had. I don’t think I was ever even this honest with Lydia, Stiles. Do you understand that?”

“It’s not—it’s not healthy for me,” Stiles tells him. He shudders. “It’s torture.”

“It’s torture to be around me,” Jackson says. His voice is distant and flat. Stiles glances to see that he’s completely moved away from Stiles, looking at him with an unreadable expression.

He shakes his head, and then nods. “No—yes—sometimes. God, Jackson. It’s hard, okay?”

“Torture, in fact.” Jackson stands up from the floor. “You know what, Stilinski, I should’ve known. I should have fucking known that I couldn’t trust you. Isn’t that what I always said? Isn’t that why we never did this before?”

Stiles feels as though he’s been slapped. “Wait, you don’t understand!”

“I understand perfectly clear, thank you very much. I thought you took me seriously. I thought you cared about me. You were the only one who ever cared enough to be honest. But maybe I misread that. Maybe you were the only one who didn’t care enough to lie.”

Stiles stands up, his legs a little shakier than he expects. He stumbles forward before he straightens himself. Jackson turns away from him. “Jackson, no. Please listen. Let me explain.”

“I’ve heard enough.”

“I’m in love with you,” Stiles blurts. He’s desperate and he doesn’t want Jackson to leave.

Jackson turns slowly. His jaw is tight when he asks, “What did you just say?”

“I’m in love with you. Seeing you…seeing you looking like that. Your pants are so tight, I can see the outline of your dick. When you smile or laugh or pout. You’re too much. You’re too much and I love you and I just want to spend every night curled up on a couch talking to you. It’s torture because I know you don’t feel the same. You’re still crazy about Lydia. I saw you—I saw you both talking at the last party we went to. And you looked at her just like you used to. And I told Lydia. She knows about my feelings. Call her and confirm it if you want. She broke up with you because of me. She broke up with you because I told her that no one else is you and I loved you. That’s why she broke up with you. She told me she knew where the ring was hidden for three weeks.”

Jackson’s face doesn’t relax. He simply says, “She broke up with me because it was the right thing to do. Neither of us were happy anymore.”

“But you…”

“No. I just didn’t realize I wasn’t happy anymore until it occurred to me that I looked forward to spending time with you. That I was happy to spend time with you.” Jackson shifts on his feet before he says, “I scheduled sex with Lydia, because it felt as though that’s what we were supposed to do since we weren’t really into each other anymore. I talked about it with her. She knows that you make me happy. Call her and confirm it if you want.”

“I believe you,” Stiles whispers. “Mostly, because I don’t want anything else to be true.”

Jackson’s lips jerk upward into a small smile. “So you can see my dick, huh?”

“Uh, yeah. I had a great view when I was on the floor…” Stiles closes his eyes. “I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe I said that.”

“I can. You say the most ridiculous things,” Jackson tells him. Stiles only opens his eyes again when he feels Jackson’s hands moving around his waist. “I’m in love with you too, Stilinski.”

“Really? You didn’t think a line like that deserved the use of Stiles?” he asks. Then he sighs. “Fuck. I mean–”

“I’m in love with you too, Stiles.”

Stiles is trembling when Jackson starts to kiss him. His entire body is vibrating with nerves, excitement, and overwhelming emotions he can’t begin to describe. By the time that Jackson’s dragged him back to the couch, Stiles isn’t thinking anymore. He’s moving with Jackson, fumbling to touch him everywhere and anywhere. Jackson pulls back though.

He brushes something off Stiles’ cheek. A tear that he hadn’t known was still there. Jackson smiles, soft and gooey. It’s not the same smile he uses when he’s ready to charm a person. It’s not the same smile he’s given Lydia before. No, it’s a new smile made just for Stiles.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

 

♈ ♌ ♈ ♌ ♈ 

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