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“Oh my god I’m gonna die.” Stiles sputtered, looking at the wolf about 8 meters away.
See, he doesn’t mind animals. Really! He loves them. When they aren’t big enough to bite him in half, and the completely wrong color for the environment. Case in point: Why is there a sand-colored wolf in a place with no sand?! The only wolves in California are the seven or so packs of grey wolves. GREY. Gre-ey. Not tan, certainly not sandy. The best way Stiles can describe this wolf- a mix between a golden wolf, aka an African wolf- and a white wolf, also known as Arctic wolves. Which he supposes makes sense- arctic wolves are a subspecies of grey wolves.
So, he supposes it’s not impossible for a grey wolf to come out albino and become a technical white wolf. But that doesn’t explain how a grey wolf could have possibly mated with a wolf all the way in AFRICA to make the wolf before him.
Stiles looked at the wolf as it growled, taking a step closer to him.
“Uh. Hey buddy.” Stiles hesitated as he took a step back for every step the wolf took closer. This was a weird game of cat and mouse. Which unfortunately he knew he would lose.
Run? That was the original reason Stiles’ came out here. To go for a jog, a walk, get his mind off things.
The wolf had gotten closer while he was lost in thought. Stiles, ever the one to act before thinking in some situations, held his hand out, a finger up.
“Hey-! No! Stay there.” He pointed at the wolf, and just about laughed in disbelief when it stopped moving. Tilting its head, like it was unsure what Stiles was doing.
“Oh, my gods you listened. To me.”
The wolf raised its head, sniffing at the air, licking its chops
“Okay…” Stiles kept his hand out as he walked backwards, “Don’t eat me. I’m walking away now.”
Once Stiles had put a couple more yards between them, he lowered his hand and began his walk. Like he had originally planned.
He looked back occasionally and the first couple times the wolf had stayed put.
Then it began to follow him in a trot.
The wolf had caught up to him fairly quickly, causing Stiles to panic just slightly, but the wolf seemed to stay at least 2 yards away at all times. So that was comforting.
Why did it follow him in the first place? Stiles didn’t know.
The wolf would whine if Stiles got too far ahead and then would speed up its own pace until it was within 8 feet again but no closer than 6 feet.
“You’re a weird ass wolf, know that?” Stiles told it, he was so sure it responded with a huff- but that didn’t make sense. No way it understood him. No way. Right?
After a mile or two Stiles decided to head back. He had been so desperate to get away from society for a little bit he hadn’t brought any food. And now he was hungry. Extremely hungry.
“No, you can’t come with me.” Stiles informed the wolf, who continued to circle Roscoe.
“I’m not taking you home!” Stiles groaned, throwing his hands up, regretting it when the wolf jumped back and snarled.
“Sorry.” Stiles sighed, lowering his hands as he rubbed his eyes with one. “I can’t take you home. You stay.” He pointed at the forest, then at the wolf, “You. Stay. Here.”
The wolf sat and stared at him.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Stiles pleaded; he was weak against the puppy eyes this gold eyed wolf was giving him.
“You have to stay!” And oh my god no this was how he died. A cute puppy-dog-like huge wolf that could probably eat him in 5 bites or less giving him baby doll eyes.
That was how he died. You know what? He was so okay with that.
“Sorry but still no.” Stiles crouched down, “I have my dad waiting for me at home. He’ll send the entire station hunting for me-” Stiles ignored the bristle the wolf did at the word hunting “-if I don’t get home soon.” Stiles finished.
The wolf laid down, but stopped whining. Small mercies, he supposed.
“I’ll come back…when I can. No clue when that’ll be.” Stiles stepped up and got into Roscoe, starting his wonderful jeep. The wolf watched him drive off, padding into the road after him, then promptly sitting in the middle of the road. He watched the rearview mirror until the wolf was out of view, and he sighed softly.
Fucking hell.
He had stuff to tell Scott, that’s for sure.
Stiles pulled into his driveway with a tired yawn.
Sleep. I need sleep. I need lots of sleep. Sleeping until next week. That’s a good plan. Or the next century. Next century sounds even better.
He didn’t remember when he got to his bed, or kicking his shoes off. Or halfheartedly tugging his jacket off one arm before he fell asleep.
And if Noah had to come in and help Stiles out of his jacket while trying not to wake him, well that was between a father and his camera roll.
“You seem tired.” Allison said cheerily as they walk into the school.
“Oh I’m fine. I just ran into a African wolf in California, went for a walk with it and then passed out like someone sucked my soul out. I’m not tired.” Stiles grumbled, maybe the tangent wasn’t necessary, but it felt very Not-Tired-Stiles like, which… when was Stiles not tired? Okay scrap that, the tangent was definitely not needed.
Luckily, Allison as always took it in stride, and just shoved him lightly. “Okay Mr. Not tired, is that a no to a rockstar?” She held up an orange whipped rockstar.
“I would never pass on an energy drink, Allison. Even if I slept the best sleep a man has ever slept, I would still risk the caffeine crash and say yes to an energy drink. I’m offended you even think I wouldn’t.” He snatched the shiny orange can covered in random orange shapes, cracking it open he took a few long sips.
Mr. Harris.
Mr. Harris.
Mr. Harris.
The bane of Stiles’ existence. And he was sure the feelings were returned. The man loved to torment him in class.
Because why did he have to be paired with a sarcastic, broody, oddly charming blonde werewolf for yet another assignment.
And yes. He does see the irony in his statement, pot meet kettle and all that.
But that’s what irked him! The way the boy matched his energy so flawlessly in ways not even Scott could. Scott!! Scott who has been his best friend since they were children. And yeah, okay maybe Isaac fell on that boat for a while. But so did Jackson for like, a few months and now Jackson was forever known as a Douche-Canoe in Stiles’ head.
It didn’t mean anything. He didn’t want it to mean anything.
“Hi Stiles.” Isaac said to him as he walked over.
“Isaac.” He nodded with a thin smile, as he set down his bag on the floor beside the blonde.
“Alright. We’re gonna start with an ice breaker assignment to begin. You and your partner will ask each other one question, when partner A answers, Partner B will put their part of the assignment in it, and vice versa. Partner A, you will have a small tube of 30% Hydrogen peroxide. Partner B, you will have the teabag of Potassium Iodide. Once I see everyone is done, I will hand out your actual assignments. Everyone has a different one, so no trying to mix tables. Stilinski, McCall.”
Stiles threw his hands up, offended. “Hey, I wasn’t-!”
“Do not back-talk me, or that will result in a detention, Mr. Stilinski.” Mr. Harris cut him off.
Stiles lowered his arms, covering his mouth with one hand, “I hate him.” He muttered.
“I don’t think anyone likes him.” Isaac replied, as he grabbed the teabag. “Okay, I’ll bite. Are you afraid of death?”
“Wow. That is a loaded question.” Stiles blinked.
“Well, are you?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll get back to you on that one.” Stiles said, rolling his eyes- he had no plans on answering his question with a proper yes or no.
Isaac shrugged and motioned for Stiles to pour in the Hydrogen Peroxide.
“Okay, my turn.” Stiles said once the peroxide was in the Opaque bottle. “Ummm, why did you say yes to Derek?”
Isaac hummed, “Control.”
“Control?” Stiles repeated the word back, “You gonna give me more than that?”
“Nope.” Isaac put the teabag in, and they watched as a cloud formed in their bottle.
“Neat.” Stiles said, voice laced with sarcasm.
Stiles dropped his head on his desk. “This will be hell.”
Isaac nodded solemnly, “Indeed. Should I come to your house after school and we can pick our drinks?”
Stiles paused and lifted his head. “Not today, I have plans.”
“Oh? And what plans are those?” Isaac asked, but he wasn’t truly interested.
“Going for a hike.” Stiles smiled and leaned back into his chair, twirling his pencil in his hand.
“A hike?” Isaac mused, a small smile on his lips, “You? A hike? Right.”
“I’m being serious! I went for a hike yesterday and enjoyed it. So, I’m going for another.” Stiles huffed, glaring at Isaac.
Isaac held his hands up in mock surrender, a taunting grin on his face as the bell rang. “My bad. I won’t judge. I’ll leave you to your… hike escapades.” The blonde was gone before Stiles could respond.
“What the fuck just happened.” Stiles looked at the desk and sighed, he couldn’t leave the experiment here without Harris getting on his ass about not being a babysitter.
Begrudgingly he began to clean up.
Today was going to be slow. He can feel it.
Slow it was. Way to fucking slow. He had way too much work to actually hike, so he’d have to sit and be boring at the park bench at the start of the trail.
“Stupid fucking…” He didn’t finish his sentence as he parked Roscoe on the gravel that bled into the grass of the trail start.
Grabbing his school bag, he hopped out of the jeep, locking it- not that he needed too. No one came up here anyway.
Stiles sat at the bench in silence, glaring at the bees that occasionally flew by. He sat tensely when one landed on his book, but his anger faded when he saw it was flying weird. He sighed and held his finger a bit in front of it. The bee climbed onto his finger, and Stiles got up.
“Please don’t sting me, I’m helping you. I’m helping, I’m helping.” Stiles muttered under his breath as he walked quickly over to a bush with small flowers. He crouched and let the bee climb onto one of the flowers.
Standing up he turned and nearly screamed. Nearly. Because he saw the wolf again.
“Bells! Wolves need Bells! I swear!” He gasped, his hand on his chest. The wolf sat by the bench, laying its head on its front paws as it looked at him.
Once he got over his heart attack, he looked at the wolf, “Hello.” He said and dropped his hand back to his side. “Am I allowed to continue my homework?”
He’s not stupid. He knows the risk of approaching an exotic animal.
The wolf watched him for a few moments before it closed its eyes.
Stiles took that as a yes, and walked over, sitting back in his seat on the bench.
The wolf stood up, and walked over to him, laying down below his seat.
“If I kick you, that’s your fault.” Stiles warned, as he opened his book to the proper page. The wind had blown it to the wrong page in the past 5 minutes.
He heard the wolf huff as it adjusted itself again, he felt something cold nose at his ankle and he jumped, looking down.
He swore if you looked up ‘Smug wolf’ this would be the picture. Because the wolf was looking up at him as it continued to poke his ankle with its nose.
“Your nose is cold. And wet.” Stiles said slowly.
The wolf huffed, and pushed against his ankle, which moved limply before the wolf lowered its head again, and his ankle went back to its original position.
“You’re a weird wolf.” He muttered.
It was peaceful for about half an hour before the wolf began nudging him again.
“Okay. I have a lacrosse ball in my bag.” Stiles muttered, as he pulled out a ball, and dropped it down at the wolf’s face.
The wolf nipped his ankle, and Stiles jolted, “Fucking- ow!” he muttered, but when he looked down the wolf was nosing at the Lacrosse ball curiously.
Okay. That’s a tiny bit adorable.
“Sun is setting.” Stiles said aloud, but he made no move to get up.
He had moved to the grass after a while of sitting on the bench, when he noticed his tailbone going numb and beginning to ache.
The wolf gave a huff of acknowledgement from its spot 2 feet away, as its head was laid on its paws, the lacrosse ball under its chin.
Stiles closed his eyes and sighed.
He couldn’t remember the last time his life was nearly this peaceful. His brain never shut down, especially around his friends. But here, while it was still active, it was active in a way he wasn’t used too.
Instead of his thoughts being everywhere at once, he could focus on a sound, identify it and wonder for a few minutes before it went to the next noise, and the cycle repeated. It wasn’t overwhelming.
This was exactly why he enjoyed his hikes. Even if he didn’t hike this time.
“This is my spot now.” Stiles mumbled, yawning. “Mine. And yours too I suppose.” Stiles could feel himself dozing off, one hand above his head in the grass, and one across his stomach, his math homework forgotten on his chest, pen still in his loose grip.
He dreamt of golden eyes and bees.
Way too much yellow.
He opens his eyes to a weight on his legs that wasn’t there before, and propping up on his elbow he wipes his eyes. Seeing the wolf asleep across his legs. Or what he thought was asleep, because as soon as he sat up it opened its eyes.
“Keeping watch?” he croaked, voice froggy with sleep. He cleared his throat and checked the time on his phone, wincing at the brightness. He turned it down all the way.
2:43 am.
“Fuck.” He muttered, dropping back onto the grass, the air leaving him in a grunt.
The wolf gave a snort, and nosed his ankle. “Eep! Cold! Jesus. It’s chilly. And I’m going to be sore as hell for school.” He muttered, as he looked at the small indents of gravel along his arms. Wiping them off he saw a few tiny droplets, and he winced.
“Ow. Fuck.” The wolf sat up when he wiggled his ankles lightly to get it off. It shook itself out, small bits of the gravel falling to the ground.
“Okay, I should get home. Hope Scott covers for me, if it’s not too late to ask him to.” Stiles muttered and stood, his legs nearly sending him back down with the way they buckled slightly. “Ugh.”
He tried to get his ball back, but the wolf growled at him until he relented. “Okay fine, keep the ball. I’ll come back sometime in the next week, but I’ll be a bit busier, so I can’t promise anything this time.” He sighed and tossed his bag in the passenger seat. Climbing into the driver’s seat he started the jeep and drove off.
“You look like death.” Isaac smiled as Stiles collapsed in the seat beside him, his bag flopping onto the ground.
Stiles grumbled, and laid his head in his arms, one hand extended to the edge of the desk so he could fiddle with his pencil. Moving felt like hell, his back was sore, and his arms hurt. The cuts from the gravel were small enough to not need bandages, but the friction of clothing on them was a reminder that they were there.
Isaac grabbed his wrist and held it below the desk, black veins crawling up the blonde’s arm from where he grabbed Stiles.
“What the- ohh…” Stiles trailed off into a relieved sigh. “That’s nice…” he mumbled as he closed his eyes, somehow slumping even more against the table.
“Not that bad. Uncomfortable though.” Isaac hummed as he kept a light grip on Stiles’ wrist.
“Uhuh.” Stiles said, “Er. Right.” Stiles pulled his hand back, and made a row of bullet points. Eight of them, two for each drink and their respective yeast.
“Any drink you want to do in particular?” Stiles asked.
“Coke would be interesting, uhh, Shirley Temple?”
Stiles wrote down the listed drinks, and he thought about his own options before he promptly wrote down Orange Cream Soda and Whipped Strawberry Rockstar.
“Wonderful. What yeast do we want to use?” Isaac asked, plucking the pen from Stiles’ grip so he could write some work too.
“Let me see what we can use.” Stiles said, opening his laptop and googling ‘what yeast can you use to ferment alcohol?’ When it loaded, he turned the screen so Isaac could see it better.
“We have Champagne yeast, Ale yeast, but looks like really any yeast will work.” Isaac read off the computer.
“I’m thinking Champagne yeast and regular yeast, to see how it affects the... texture and flavor… is that how that works? I don’t know I’ve never fermented alcohol before- fuck I’ve never made bread before.” Stiles rambled under his breath.
Isaac watched him, chin in his palm as he listened to Stiles. “You’ve never made bread?”
“No- you have?” Stiles cut off his ramble to ask his question.
“Mellisa decided it would be a good bonding exercise for me and Scott.” The werewolf answered.
“Okay… you like Scott though, why do you sound so…pissy about it?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just- it felt like-” Isaac kept looking over at Scott, who Stiles was sure was listening.
“Intruding?” Stiles offered.
“For lack of better terminology.” Isaac nodded.
“Hey I used to feel the same way. But Scott and Mellisa are awesome people, so... don’t worry about it too much.”
“…Thanks…? Why are you being so…thoughtful?”
“Hey! I can be thoughtful; I can be plenty thoughtful. I am an amazingly thoughtful person, thank you very much.” Stiles narrowed his eyes, offended.
“Clever? Yes.” Isaac tilted his head to the side, “Thoughtful? Debatable.”
“Jerkoff.” Stiles muttered, “Wait- fuck.”
Isaac snorted, covering his mouth to stifle his laugh. “You wanna rephrase that?”
“Fuck you? No that’s worse.” Stiles muttered. “Screw off? No..” Stiles started an insult repeatedly then stopped it, only to start again and stop a few times before he seemed to give up, leaning back in his chair. Isaac just had the tip of his pencil in his mouth, grinning around it as he watched poor Stiles fail repeatedly. “Fuck me this is awful.”
“See now that-” Isaac started, pointing the pencil at him.
“Shut up.” Stiles raised a hand, cutting him off.
“There there. One day you’ll be able to actually insult people, I’m sure.” Isaac grinned.
“Nope, take it back. You are awful. I should make you into a fur coat.”
“Oh pity thee.” Isaac rolled his eyes.
“Pity thee? What are you, a poet? A rhymer? You gonna be the next Dr. Seuss?”
“I hate rhymes. Not a fan of Dr. Seuss.” Isaac mused.
“Stilinski, Lahey. DO you plan on paying attention?” Harris asked.
Stiles was going to retort but a slap on the wrist from Isaac shut him up. Except it was more like a tap, because he barely touched him. But it still hurt. Stupid werewolf strength.
“Yeah, yeah... shutting up.” Stiles muttered.
“Okay I will be going to the store after school to get the yeast.” Stiles said as he packed up his things. “Can you get the drinks?”
Isaac nodded as he also stood up, pulling his leather jacket back on.
Stiles, ever one to notice details squinted his eyes slightly as he looked Isaac up and down. “Hm.” He hummed.
“What?” Isaac asked, tilting his head in that confused but mildly aggravated confused puppy way.
“Leather suits you. Derek picks them well I suppose.” Stiles said, as he left the classroom, a shit eating grin on his face.
“What. Stiles? What- you can’t just say that and leave- Stiles!” Isaac called, confusion and alarm making his voice rise a pitch as he swiftly walked after the other boy.
“Yeah I got paired up with Isaac. It’s easy working with him when we aren’t butting heads. But I still don’t understand the scarves!” Stiles complained to the wolf as they lay on the grass. The wolf’s head resting on his ankles as he talked.
“I mean it’s March! Not that cold out.”
The wolf just huffed and looked at him, judging him silently, Stiles was sure.
“Roses are red, amber is gold. I’m tempted to leave, because your nose is cold.” Stiles drawled as the wolf nosed at his ankle, nipping at it for the rhyme.
“Rude. That was inspired by the great Dr. Seuss. Do you not like Dr. Seuss?” Stiles asked, fake offense in his tone.
The wolf huffed, closing its eyes again.
“Rude. Just like Isaac, what’s wrong with Dr. Seuss? He’s a classic!”
Over the weeks Stiles had begun to notice little similarities between the wolf and Isaac, which Stiles found weird because why was he focusing on Isaac so much?
“And then his eyes! I mean fuck who has eyes that blue and gold?!” Stiles whined into his pillow, on call with Scott who was working at Deaton’s.
“My eyes used to go gold.”
“Yes and now they are a beautiful shade of blood red, wonderful.” Stiles muttered.
“Aw thanks buddy.”
“yeah, yeah… no, but seriously, why am I noticing these things? These are things I only paid attention to with...Lydia…and... oh my god.”
“You good there Stiles?” Scott asked, his voice sounding closer to the phone.
“Scott I might be gay. Or bisexual. I’ll get back to you on that.” Stiles said, as he scrambled and hung up the phone.
“Stiles what-” Scott had started, but his voice got cut off.
Stiles screamed into his pillow for the next little bit until his dad knocked on his door.
“You decent son?” he asked through the door.
“Morally? Probably not, no. But I’m wearing pants if that’s what you are asking.” Stiles replied as he sat up. His dad opening the door a moment later.
“Yo, daddy.” Stiles grinned.
“Stiles, why were you screaming?” Noah asked, tiredly as he leaned on the hand that was holding the doorknob.
“Uh, reasons! Very normal very teenager reasons.”
Noah blinked very obviously at him a few times, looking contemplative, “You know what? I don’t- don’t wanna know.” He muttered, raising his free hand as he walked back out closing his door.
Stiles looked at the door for a few minutes, before he flopped back down. “Christ on a stick.” He muttered, rolling onto his side.
Things were clicking into place, and that alarmed him. The wolf and Isaac were alike more than Stiles wanted.
“Stiles, you okay?” Allison asked him as he drove the two of them to school.
“I think I’m gay or whatever for Isaac. I’m also pretty sure he’s the wolf I’ve been seeing on my hikes.”
“That is a lot to unpack.” She grinned. “So, tell me all about it.”
Stiles did. While working on the project the two of them had grown closer, obviously, by the forced proximity.
Stiles had even found himself enjoying being around Isaac.
He told her everything. He hadn’t done that in a while. Empty his head out like that.
It was nice.
“Well, I think you should keep hanging out with him. Outside of the project.” Allison said once he was done, and they had been sat in the school parking lot for around an hour as he talked.
“And how do you reckon I do that Green Arrow?” He deadpanned, “GO up to him and say, ‘hey man wanna go on a date that’s not really a date unless you want it to be a date then it can be a date?’ great idea Allison. While we’re at it, why don’t I just let Peter bite me like he so wants to.”
“Sorry Peter wants to what?” Allison squawked.
“He has offered me the bite. Multiple times.” Stiles bobbed his head when he said ‘multiple times’.
“You’ve said no though, right?”
“I am perfectly happy being human. Believe me.” Stiles confirmed.
“Okay good. Back to your little werewolf crush- it doesn’t have to be that complicated.”
“Except I’m involved. Of course it does.” Stiles replied dropping his head on the steering wheel, jerking back up with a yelp when it honked at him. “Ah- jesus.”
“It’ll be fine. Now. Do we wanna go to the rest of our classes or just ditch the rest of the day?” Allison chirped.
“um, I planned on working with Isaac on the project at lunch, but I could use a break to clear my head, let me just text him.”
[Stiles]: hey I’m going for lunch with Allison, I won’t make it for the project. That okay?
[Isaac]: mhm, that’s fine. I expect compensation somehow though Stilinski.
[Stiles]: I’ll think of something.
“Okay, it’s cool. Let’s go.” Stiles pulled out of the parking lot once he started his jeep again.
The wolf was a lot more touchy that evening. Nosing at his hands, bumping its head into his hip, laying practically on his stomach when he laid down.
Stiles would be ecstatic! Except he was almost positive the wolf was Isaac now. Isaac had mentioned once that he was afraid of losing the people he cared about, even if he never said it.
“Isaac, I know its you.” He said, and the wolf froze from where it was nosing at his side, raising its head the wolf’s ears pinned back and it growled lowly.
“Hey- I’m not mad- I’m just- confused.” Stiles said quickly, sitting up.
The wolf- Isaac- backed away from him.
“Isaac hang on-” Stiles reached for his friend, and Isaac jumped away, running off.
“Isaac!” Stiles shouted.
“I scared him off, Allison. I tried confronting him too quickly.” Stiles said flatly, lying in bed. He had decided to video call Allison when he got home.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She replied, also in her bed, as she had her phone angled at her, but her attention was on the laptop in her lap.
“No, it won’t. We’ll finish the project and it’ll be like before but worse because now I know what more is like with him!” Stiles whined.
“If you’re that worried, call him.”
“Are you crazy, woman?” Stiles exclaimed, sitting up and glaring at his camera.
“I mean I know Isaac pretty well. He’d at least hear you out.” Allison said, looking at the camera for a moment then back at the laptop.
“Yeah, maybe.” Stiles muttered as he sat up, “God it’s windy. Why is it windy. My window should be closed. Hang on.” He told her as he got out of bed, walking to his window. He saw movement in his backyard when he went to close it and squinted as though that would help him see better in the dark. “Oh my god. Allison, I have to call you back.” Stiles grabbed his phone.
“What why?” She sounded worried, but that was the least of Stiles’ concern.
“He’s in my backyard the asshole!” Stiles said as he ran downstairs, “Okay love you Alli bye-”
Stiles tossed his phone onto the counter as he passed it, opening his back door he ran outside onto his porch.
“Isaac?” He muttered, looking at the wolf on his porch. The wolf stared up at him, before it’s body contorted and sitting on his patio was Isaac.
“Okay why do none of you have clothes when you shift back from a full transformation?” Stiles muttered, averting his gaze, looking back then away again.
“I don’t know, I didn’t make the rules.” Isaac snarked, before deflating. “Sorry. I’m cold. It reminds me of-”
“The freezer. I figured, come on. I should have a hoodie that will fit, but I promise nothing about pants because your legs are long as hell.” Stiles said walking into the house.
“…you’re upset.” Isaac said, as they sat on Stiles’ bed.
“You ran off.” Stiles replied, leaning back.
“I was afraid.” Isaac muttered, “I have something to lose now. And it’s terrifying.”
Stiles glanced at him, then away again. “I assume you mean me. Because if not then that would be really awkward.”
“I do mean you, asshole. When you said you knew it was me I thought you’d hate me- you found solace in the hikes and I just-”
“You kept me company.” Stiles cut in, “Don’t apologize for that.”
“So..you don’t hate me anymore?” Isaac commented, as he leaned over to look at Stiles.
“Nope. Also, to answer your question; I’m not afraid of death, if it happens it happens.”
“Well that’s hardly a healthy mindset.” Isaac muttered, lips twitching into a smile.
“How is it unhealthy?” Stiles rolled his eyes.
“Because, if you died now, I would probably lose my damned mind.” Isaac mumbled, climbing on top of him, interlocking their hands loosely.
“See, you have enough self-preservation for both of us.” Stiles teased.
“Stiles.”
“Yes Isaac?”
“Shut the hell up.” Isaac leaned up and pressed his lips against Stiles, holding his hands down by his head.
The kiss wasn’t rough, but it was full of pent-up anger and tension.
Stiles could see Isaac’s eyes flashing the longer the kiss went on and he had to pull away with a groan. “That shouldn’t be so hot!” He complained, and Isaac let out a startled laugh, pressing his face into Stiles’ collar.
They weren’t perfect. They were complimentary colors. They clashed and complimented each other.
“Also fuck Dr. Seuss.”
“Damnit Isaac! You ruined it!”