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“I hate you,” Stiles mused, raking the plump pink of his bottom lip between his teeth.
“No you don’t,” was Scott’s quick response, followed with a short laugh. The human was shaking his head as Scott dug in his pocket for his wallet to pay the rental fee.
Scott had managed to drag Stiles out to the ice skating rink they had set up in Beacon Hills’ mall. The first three times Scott asked him, Stiles flat out refused. He would give Scott some kind of excuse about not having the coordination to not break his tailbone. But, Scott hadn’t been ice skating since he was about seven, and he was eager to go again now that they had a rink nearby.
There was something about those big, chocolate eyes that melted Stiles’ inhibitions and made him finally relent. If I die, it’s on you, Scotty. I can’t heal a broken bone like you can – knowing my luck, I’m going to bleed out because I sliced by throat open with the ice skate blades. Even though Scott reassured him that there was a very, very low chance of that happening, Stiles’ complaining was the soundtrack of the drive to the rink in his precious Jeep. (I’m not risking my life twice tonight and taking your bike!)
Currently, Scott was watching Stiles wobble out onto the ice rink with wobbly legs – almost like a newborn gazelle just learning to walk. The alpha chewed down on his lower lip harshly to hide a smile, gliding over to him and catching his forearms before the other tumbled to the cold ice in a mess of limbs. “Look at you – gliding around like a freakin’ penguin when I’m over here trying to relearn how my feet work!” he grumbled at the other, hands coming out to Scott’s shoulders to help steady himself. Scott backed himself up into the barrier of the rink to keep himself from falling as he chuckled softly at Stiles – instantly feeling guilty for laughing at him.
“Have you never rollerbladed before? It’s almost just like it,” he told him, easing the other out into the rink and away from the railing – the other teenager looking almost panicked the further they got away from the safety net.
“No, I haven’t,” was his quick response, not eager to release other – even as Scott tried to gently pry his hands off of him.
“I’ll be right behind you the whole time, I promise. I won’t let you fall. And even if you do, I’ll at least go down with you. Does that make you feel better?”
Stiles let out an awkward noise, flailing his arms a little to keep his balance, “No – Nope, not at all. What use are we in a messy heap on the ice?”
Scott gave a small, good natured roll of his eyes and kept to his word -- keeping himself close to Stiles as the other struggled to stay on his feet.
Stiles, by no means, was any kind of definition of graceful. Scott, by this point, knew this. But seeing the teenager fumble around on the ice was still a mixture of amusement and guilt that he drug him out here in the first place. The werewolf let out a soft sigh, picking up just enough speed to fall in beside him.
Scott wanted this to be fun, to be an escape from their haywire, everyday life. With no baddies, with no death, with nothing going wrong. Something normal. And yet -- Stiles was struggling, his lips screwed into an expression of frustration and concentration that Scott knew far too well. “Hold on --” the lupine breathed, shifting himself around so that he was in front of Stiles. He gently took both of the human’s hands in his -- which were startlingly warm for the venue -- and gave them a soft squeeze, “ -- be my eyes and I’ll lead you, alright?” he offered with a small smile on his lips.
Stiles opened his lips to speak, but -- for the first time in a long time -- the hyperactive teenager was caught speechless. Gaping briefly before he closed his lips and merely smiled in return, nodding.
It took a good forty five minutes for Stiles to finally be confident enough to skate without Scott leading him -- and, even then, Scott merely moved to the side to take one hand and skate with him. Despite the looks that they were getting -- Scott found himself wishing that it was different circumstances that lead him holding the human’s hand -- and, past that, found himself wondering why he was thinking that in the first place.
Finally, though, after almost losing track of time, their two hours of skating was over. They spent another thirty minutes or so grabbing a few hot chocolates to go before getting back into the Jeep -- Scott relieving Stiles from the driver’s seat to drive them home.
After riding for about ten minutes, Scott was surprised to find the same warmth of Stiles’ hand over his own in the center console of the jeep. His eyebrows furrowed inwards before he was looking over to Stiles with an unspoken confusion. Stiles merely gave him a smirk before responding, “Need me to lead you?”