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Stiles gave a hard scrutinizing glare at his text book, hoping that if he stared hard enough maybe it would reveal it’s wretched secrets, but to no avail. He gave a long sigh, banging his head lightly against the table. It wasn’t like biology was going to help you when your throat was about to get torn out by some psycho alpha’s or some crazy killer obsessed with sacrifices. Maybe his school should have a lesson on ‘How to survive when your bestfriend is a werewolf.’ or maybe ‘how to tell your dad you may or may not be having sex with a werewolf.”
Stiles grinned, lingering on the thought of that particular werewolf, Derek. Derek with his stupid stubble and stupid leather jacket. Derek with his stupid abs and small grins. Derek with his stupid moans and cuddles and kisses in the early morning. Derek, stupid Derek. His Derek.
Stiles rested his cheek against his hand.
“Derek.” the name forming on his mouth on it’s own accord.
A sudden crash echoed through the room making the windows shudder. Speak of the Devil. Stiles thought, lips spreading into a slow grin, before spinning in his chair towards the window. Sometimes Derek would slip in, usually perched on the bed pretending to read. But Stiles knew he was watching him the whole time. Sometimes those visits were the best part of his day.
As usual, Stiles leaned out of the window sill trying to see the dark eyes and slight stubble but instead he caught sight of a slim flash of gold, and long limbs. The leaves gave a small hesitant rustle as the long flash of limbs moved closer. Stiles stiffened before taking a few rushed steps back. Not Derek.
“Shit.” Stiles hissed,his fingers curling around the bat perched against his bed, his heart beat crashing like waves against his chest. Fear sent shuddering shocks down his back, and it could probably smell it too. The thick, stinking fear that clung to Stiles.
The uncertainty scared the shit out of him.
Stiles raised the bat.
Crash. It was coming closer.
Stiles’ fingers tightened.
Scritch. Scratch
A hand curled around his window sill. Stiles breath caught. A long arm snaked up the window with the sound of soft breaths. Stiles hand shook as he took a few steps back, bat raised ready to strike. Something twisted over the window and hit the ground.
The bat came down with a sickening crunch. A pale arm, a mop of curly hair and stormy eyes tumbled onto the ground in a lump of flailing limbs.
“Isaac?” Stiles said incredulously. Isaac glared, rubbing a hand on his head.
“Ow, what was that for?”
“You scared the shit out of me!” Stiles said,waving his hands around. “You can’t just, I don’t know jump in here.”
“Um.” Isaac fixed Stiles with an avid glare. “I just did?”
Stiles sighed. “What are you even doing here?”
Isaac merely gave a small sniff. “Derek and Cora was gone and I was bored.” he said as he plopped onto Stiles bed.
“So you decided to just roll into my room and scare the crap out of me? Dude!” Stiles said. But Isaac was already fingering through one of his books and curling around his blanket’s so it didn’t really seem to matter anymore, at least not to Isaac. Stiles narrowed his eyes, staring Isaac down for a few more seconds, but he didn’t seem to budge nor acknowledge his existence and that was stupid because this was his room and his bed and his book.
When Isaac didn’t reply, Stiles huffed another sigh and said. “Okay, whatever just don’t distract me or anything.”
“It’s not like you’re going to get anything done Anyways. Do you have tea?”
Stiles mouth dropped open. So Isaac had rolled into his room, invaded his bed and now wants to drink his tea. Stiles opened his mouth to protest, but then Isaac raised his hand his claws showing and merely said. “No sugar’s please, and about a tablespoon of milk.”
Stiles shook his head and went down to the kitchen.
~.~
Stiles was now used to the constant thump against his window and the bright mop of curly hair that arrived usually a little over eight once or twice a week. He was also used to having to stock up on tea, because Isaac always inhaled four to five cups every time he came over and Stiles swore Isaac stole some teabags. When Stiles asked him about his obsession with tea, Isaac merely shrugged before answering. “Derek doesn’t like tea.” Before returning to his (Stiles) book.
It wasn’t like Stiles minded that much, Isaac was actually quiet for most of the time. The only sound was the sound of pages turning and the occasional clucking sound Isaac made with his tongue. He stayed for little under an hour before flinging himself out of the window and disappearing into the night. It wasn’t too bad until Stiles found Derek standing into the middle of the room glaring at him.
“I would appreciate it if you would stop stealing Isaac.” Derek said, although he sounded quite polite, his glare darkened. Stiles was strangely scared yet aroused. Stiles shrugged.
“Pfft it’s not like I kidnap him. He comes by himself. What are you jealous?” Stiles teased. Derek’s glare darkened.
Oh.
“Oh My God! You idiot! Me and Isaac? You have got to be kidding me. C’mon sourwolf.” With a sigh Derek sunk his face in Stiles neck.
“You never spend time with me anymore.” Derek’s voice was strangely quiet.
“You’re stupid.” Stiles sighed, pressing a kiss to Derek’s mouth, his hand reaching to cling to his chin. Derek sighed into his mouth.
Soon they were tugging their clothes off, tripping over each other’s feet, while Stiles giggled into Derek’s mouth. They fell into the bed, legs entwined.
“Oh My God! Cover up!” Isaac screamed, jumping out of the window and screaming like someone just tried to burn off his eyes. It sure felt like it.
Stiles heard Derek chuckle into his shoulder.
-
The visits still came, but now Isaac just wrinkled his nose and muttered something like. “It stinks like sex oh why.”
But then one day Stiles turned around to see Isaac rummaging through his closet.
‘Oi! What are you doing.” When Isaac didn’t reply, Stiles threw a random hoodie at him.
Isaac turned rapidly, catching it before sinking his nose into the material. Eyes closing and spreading into a pleasant smile. Stiles stared at him incredulously, giving Isaac his best what the fuck look. Because seriously what the fuck.
Isaac merely crawled onto the bed again and wrapped the hoodie around his neck, before returning to his book. When Stiles gave him a questioning look, he merely shrugged.
“It smells like Scott.”
What the fuck.
-~.~
Stiles didn’t question it for a while, eyes narrowing in mock suspicion as he watch Isaac bury his shaggy head into the hoodie again. Because honestly that was kind of creepy.
Isaac was quite a blushing mess of curls and dimples when he was around Scott. It was kind of heart wrenchingly adorable yet kind of embarrassing to see Isaac dance around Scott shyly with fumbly gestures and small smiles. Scott was as oblivious as always smiling widely at Isaac which led him to turn into a stuttering mess of jell-o.
As much as Stiles hating third wheeling, it was okay if he tried to ignore the two while he fired multiple texts to Derek complaining. That was until Isaac started pining.
Loudly.
~.~
Isaac was quietly reading a book before he sighed and then said. “I like Scott.” Stiles rolled his eyes and almost said no shit or even I don’t want to hear about your raging boner for my best friend. But being the nice supporting friend he turned towards Isaac and said in his least sarcastic voice possible:
“Really?”
And then Isaac opened his mouth and Stiles wished he could have said please shut up. But trying to be the nice supporting friend who listened to long rants about crushes he just nodded as sympathetically as he could and willingly dug through his closet for more hoodies for Isaac to creepily sniff.
~.~
Isaac didn’t read anymore on his visits anymore, instead he perched himself on Stiles bed, sipping his tea while he pined over Scott.
“He keeps smiling at me. His dimples Stiles! Dimples.”
“Uh huh.”
“Ughhh. Not to mention his chest. Have you seen it? Good God.”
“Mmm.”
“He’s so nice. I don’t even understand why.”
“Yeah.”
With a depleted sigh, Isaac pressed his nose into one of Scott’s (many) sweaters.
~.~
That night, while Stiles and Derek basked in the afterglow, Stiles made a noise that sounded like a dying whale.
“Isaac pines so loudly. I can’t stand it.” He turned to face Derek. “Hey can you control his crazy teenage werewolf hormones? Please say you can.”
Derek snorted. “No.” He paused. “Do you think Scott can reciprocate his feelings. It’s worth a try?”Stiles buried his face in the pillow, his voice muffled.
“Scott isn’t over Alison yet. Oh god help me.”
He tried to ignore the slight shuddering of the bed as Derek laughed softly at his misfortune.
~.~
Isaac, Scott and Stiles were walking home. Stiles had his head down, earphones plugged in while he tried to ignore Isaac’s blushing attempts at flirting. Scott oblivious as always merely smiled along.
When Isaac turned to leave towards Derek’s house, Scott ducked his head smiling.
“He really is something isn’t he.” he said.
Stiles eyes widened as he turned to Scott, observing the small blush and dopey adorable look he only had when he was talking about Alison.
Holy shit.
He was surrounded by idiots.
~.~
“That’s good right?’ Derek said, watching Stiles pace around with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes! Wait no! I tried telling them both but they just don’t listen!” Stiles banging his head into the wall multiple times. “They are stupid. So stupid.”
~.~
So the next few weeks went a bit like this.
Isaac came and went, pressing his nose into Scott’s clothes and complaining and pining and complaining some more, occasionally rolling around the bed with some more pining.
Scott constantly texted Stiles.
Scott: He’s so cute omfg his cheekbones
Scott: Is it bad that I love it when he wears scarves.
Scott: His hair’s really soft, you should touch it sometime. Wait don’t.
Stiles: What about Alison dude.
Scott: Nah.
It was tiring. The sexual tension was killing him. The two stupid idiots were killing him. As he watched the two pathetically blushing and flailing in their interactions, he wondered if it was legal to throttle werewolves.
-
“Stilinski! Put these into the supply closet!” Stiles sighed as he regarded the huge boxes the teacher pointed at.
“Can’t I dunno, Danny do it?”
“Well now that you mention it. No. Hurry up got it?”
Stiles heaved the two boxes up and stumbled towards the supply closet. When he came to the door, he heard wet sappy sounds that sounded disgustingly like kissing. With a huge sigh, Stiles rapped on the door with his elbow, trying not to drop the boxes.
“Break it up kids!” Stiles yelled. “And let me get through.”
The door opened to reveal a very mussed up Scott, shirt riding up and lips red. Stiles startled,nearly dropping the box.
“Scott? What are you…” His gaze flicked to the curly haired boy behind him, shyly ducking his head. Stiles narrowed his eyes. These two were assholes.
Scott smiled sheepishly. “Ah. We forgot to tell you?”
“Sorry.” Isaac huffed, scratching his neck.
Stiles glared at them. “I hate you both.”