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“I love you.”
Stiles automatically glances up in the mirror, but he immediately lowers his gaze as soon as he gets a look at himself. Sure, he’s managed to wrangle his hair into something approaching respectable and for the first time in his life, he’s wearing a suit that actually fits, but he can’t stand to see the look on his face, the dark circles under his eyes and the tightness in his cheeks, all accentuating something that looks like desperation.
“I love you.” He says it again, fingers digging into his thighs, trying to make the words sound a little less needy. He only marginally succeeds, but beggars can’t be choosers, so he simply clears his throat and moves on to the next sentence that is written on the index card sitting on the table in front of him.
“I’m completely and utterly in love with you.” This time he shakes his head and mutters no under his breath. He pulls a pen out of his pocket and viciously scratches the line off the card. His fingers are already stained with ink but there’s no point in cleaning it off, not yet.
“I love you. Please don’t get married.” The last few words get caught in his throat and he buries a cough into his elbow. This time, when he looks up into the mirror, he glares at his reflection.
If he can’t say the words on a practice run, how is he supposed to spit them out when Scott is actually standing in front of him?
He should have said them months ago. Years ago, actually, when they were still in high school, when it felt like it was just him and Scott against the world, when Stiles genuinely believed that it was going to be just the two of them forever.
He’d tried so many times to spit it out. At sleepovers, after lacrosse games, when they were going for walks in the preserve. So many times the damn words had been sitting on his tongue, ready to burst from his normally unstoppable mouth.
I love you.
But in his mouth they’d stayed, until now.
Stiles knows that it’s selfish. This is supposed to be the happiest day of Scott and Kira’s lives, the day that sets them up for the rest of their lives. Part of Stiles really doesn’t want to ruin that. He doesn’t have anything against Kira; she’s warm and bubbly and sweet, and Scott smiles bright as the sun whenever he sees her. Objectively, they’re perfect for each other.
Subjectively…
Well. Stiles is selfish. It’s a character fault he came to terms with a long time ago.
He picks up the card again and sucks in a deep breath, but there’s a knock on the door before he can exhale.
“Yeah?” he yells over his shoulder.
“Can I come in?” Scott asks. Stiles feels like his heart has jumped straight up into his throat and it takes him a few tries before he can spit out the words without his voice being too faint.
“Yeah, I’m wearing pants, I promise.” Scott immediately slips through the door and quickly closes it behind him. Stiles has seen him in his tux before, back when they were getting fitted, but that was nothing compared to how Scott looks now. His hair is short, pushed up at the front in a way that Stiles could never manage without leaving globs of hair gel behind. He’s wearing a gold tie and pocket square and as he leans back against the door, he starts fiddling with his cuff links. His lip is bitten up and his fingers are fluttering with nerves, but he’s practically glowing with happiness.
It’s an image that Stiles has imagined before, just in a slightly different context.
“I can’t believe this,” Scott says. “I can’t believe I’m getting married.”
“Me neither,” Stiles says, leaning back against the table and shoving his hands in his pocket. One stiff corner of the index card digs into his palm, a biting reminder of the words still sitting at the base of his throat.
“What if something goes wrong?” Scott asks, stepping away from the door to sink into the nearest chair. “What if I forget my vows?”
“Then make up new ones on the spot,” Stiles says with a shrug. His stomach is churning and there’s sweat beading on the back of his neck, but he tries to ignore both. “Seriously, it can’t be any worse than the ones Jackson had for Danny.” Scott literally shudders, but he finally smiles, cheeks popping into dimples.
Stiles has to look away again.
The corner of the index card slides across the meat of his hand, opening a paper cut that immediately starts to sting. Stiles manages to bite back a hiss and thankfully, Scott doesn’t seem to hear it. When Stiles looks back at him, Scott's smile has faded slightly and he’s staring down at the floor between his knees, fingers still fiddling with his cuffs.
“What if she changes her mind?” he asks quietly. Stiles doesn’t think he’s ever heard Scott sound so worried. Truthfully, he actually sounds scared. For a few moments, Stiles shuts his eyes and gives himself over to the maelstrom of thoughts swirling through his head. He tamps down as many of them as he can before he opens his eyes again and crushes the index card in his pocket. crumpling it until it’s a ball.
He isn’t going to need it today.
“Scott,” he sighs, crossing the room and dropping into a crouch beside Scott’s chair, “you seriously think she’s going to do that? Kira’s crazy about you. She loves you, she isn’t going to pull some runaway bride crap on you. And if she does…” Stiles plasters on the biggest smile he can manage and pats Scott on his knee, yanking his fingers away before he can talk himself into letting them linger.
“Well, then I’ll just marry you. I’m sure I could squeeze into Kira’s dress if I tried.” Scott laughs before leaning over and yanking Stiles into a tight hug that knocks the wind out of him.
“I love you, buddy,” he mumbles against Stiles’ shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re here with me for this.”
“Yeah,” Stiles replies, slamming his eyes shut and pressing his face against Scott’s neck. “I love you too.”