Work Text:
Never Say Never
“Watch out!” Tossing the last words from his mouth in a panicked frenzy, Stiles catapulted from his seat on the couch, launching himself over the coffee table and towards the TV with his arms stretching out at his sides. Orange controller slipping from his grasp and flinging itself onto the near by wall with a startling bang that was ignored amongst the wild cheering from the other teens fist pumping and smiling largely whilst in loud conversation.
“You're blocking the winning shot, Stilinski.” Kicking at Stiles hip with his foot, Jackson's upturned scowl slipped into a grin when Danny leaned over from the recliner to high five him.
“Nice shot,” Scott whistled, wiping his hand up through his hair while his eyebrows stayed arched. Jackson continued to kick at Stiles' hip where he stood flabbergasted in front of the screen while the goal was replayed along with the last few seconds of the game. Reaching up from his spot on the ground to tug Stiles wrist, forcing him to tumble to the ground in his still shocked state, Scott laughed.
Gaping like a fish, Stiles rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as it reflected different colours and patterns from the switching scenes on the TV. The room was dark besides from the light in the kitchen and TV, and the cool night air brushed into the room from an opened window. His mouth slack, eyes wide, and tone disbelieving when he mumbles, “I never lose at FIFA.”
“Never say never,” Scott chided, patting his chest.
“'I will never say never',” Stiles sang lowly, scrunching up his face in mock-passion. “'I will fight till forever'.” Clenching his fists and raising his voice, Stiles furrowed his brows and sat up, “'Whenever you knock me down,'.”
“Dear, God,” groaned Isaac from across the room, tilting his head back against the love seat. “Scott, make him stop.”
“'I will not stay on the ground',” Stiles sang loudly, jumping to his feet and turning towards Jackson. “'Pick it up. Pick it up. Pick it up. Pick it up, up, up',” he chanted quickly as Jackson grimaced and Danny eyed him as though he had three heads. “'And never say never'.”
“I swear, I'm going to kill you,” growled Jackson, his eyes flashing a golden amber. His nails started to elongate and pierce the couch, threatening to break through the fabric.
“No death threats in the Stilinski house, Jackson.” Shouted his father from the kitchen table where he had police files spread all over the table, his back facing the boys in the living room as he leaned over his work. “And Stiles, knock it off before I knock your head off.”
Groaning, Stiles walked forward and slouched down onto the couch next to the smirking teen. “This isn't over.”
“On the contrary, it is.” Jackson chirped, his face laced with the usual smug I'm-better-than-you grin, but actual teeth showed from between his lips that were not supernaturally pointed into a threat. He stood up, brushing his jeans off and placing the blue controller on a clear spot amongst the empty Chinese takeout containers laden on the coffee table. “I've got to go meet Lydia and take Danny home.”
“So, this is it then?” Scott muttered, standing as well. Followed by Isaac and Danny as Stiles stayed crowded on the couch, a firm frown set on his face. “I can't say I won't miss you.” Jackson offered his hand from where he stood facing Scott, the FIFA main menu flashing in the background and dancing off their features, but Scott pulled him into a hug that Jackson returned a moment later, a shying upturn graced his mouth when he pulled back.
“I can't say the same, McCall.” He jeered, and Scott squeezed his shoulder, tugging him against his side in a one armed hug.
Isaac wormed up to his other side, hugging Jackson with a few pats on his back and holding onto his shoulders as they separated. “Pack,” he mumbled. A sad, trodden, puppy-dog look marred his face and Jackson knocked their foreheads together mumbling the same word before they both backed away.
Jackson glanced at Stiles briefly before jumping when John's hand lands on his shoulder, and the older man set a firm gaze on the boy before opening his arms. A smile flashes quickly when he hugs John in return and pulls away to John's hand on the back of his neck. “You be good.”
“Will do, sir.”
John grins fondly, and then raises a brow at his son before walking into the kitchen to return to his work. Stiles slouches further into the couch, scowling at the floor between the four bodies staring at him. Raising from his spot, Stiles grumbles to himself about mushy goodbyes and stupid plane rides before latching himself around Jackson in a tight hug.
“Don't forget to be an asshole to everyone you meet in England.” Jackson's chest vibrates against his with a chuckle. “And soccer's called football there, so at least try to sound cultured – and you'll be going to college and not high school anymore so I guess that means you've already graduated, so a big congratulations to your werewolf ass.” Stiles didn't drop his arms, and instead buried his face deeper in Jackson's neck. It would all be too easy for Jackson to tear open Stiles' hold on him if he wanted to, but he stayed in the hug, and Stiles let out a shaken huff. “I left a copy of that cookie recipe in your backpack. So, if you ever find out how to use an oven, it might come in handy.”
Jackson clapped a hand on his back, squeezing once more. “Thanks, Stiles.”
“Now, unhand me you, fruit-loop.” Stiles and Jackson shimmed away from their embrace, Stiles sniffling quietly and schooling his expression the best he could.
Danny clapped his hands together after a moment of silence as they all watched Jackson sorrowfully. “We're leaving.” Danny grabbed his coat from the closet by the door and toed on his shoes as Jackson did the same. They left the house with a wave goodbye as Danny towed Jackson down the walkway with an arm slung over his shoulders.
Isaac whimpered from where he stood at the opened window, nose out to sniff the air as though he was memorizing the last scent of Jackson. His Porsche hummed and revved away from the driveway and down the street, turning the corner before disappearing from sight.
Stiles collapsed on the couch next to Scott, huffing a sigh and sniffling again before Isaac padded over and curled in between them, laying his head on Scott's shoulder while Stiles tilted his down onto Isaac's.
“It's never going to be the same again, is it?” Mumbled Isaac, shuffling closer to Scott's side to get more comfortable and letting Stiles lean more of his body weight against him.
“'Never say never',” cooed Stiles, slowly grinning into Isaac's arm.
Scott chuckled while Isaac groaned.