Hold Me Closer | Stisaac (Serendipity, Book 1)

Chapter 29 - Part 1

My only one, my smoking gun
My eclipsed sun, this has broken me down
My twisted knife, my sleepless night
My win-less fight, this has frozen my ground
- Taylor Swift, 'Hoax'

    Stiles stood on the edge of a cliff.
    There were only two directions that he could go—over the edge, or away from it—and both would leave him wounded and hurting, dead, or wishing for death. Quite simply, he was screwed no matter what. But in this moment, he didn't care. He couldn't care, couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't anything but this.
    He was overflowing with emotions and sensations, most of which he couldn't place or comprehend. He had ceased to exist under the taste and feel of Isaac, and he wasn't sure he wanted that to change. Isaac's tongue, still lit with a whiskey sting, burned a filthy trail across Stiles's lips and all throughout his mouth. A hot, wet collision of passions and abandoned inhibitions. Stiles roamed Isaac's body with his hands, sliding over his clothed hips, back, shoulders, chest, thighs. Isaac's finger dug almost painfully into the back of Stiles's head as he cradled it desperately.
He'd stepped away, Isaac's crestfallen face chilling his spine. Only a few seconds had passed before he he'd found himself wrapped up in Isaac again, every atom in his body screaming in anguish at the distance between them.
Stiles vaguely remembered that they were in public, just blocks from the club where danger had ran its fingers over their skin much like they were doing to each other now. But the humiliating thought that people might be witnessing them wasn't what forced Stiles to break away with a hungry, pained gasp. It was an instinctual move brought on by the fact that his foot had begun to slip over the precipice, and the fear of falling was too great.
"Stop," Stiles whispered. He cleared his throat. "I can't do this." He backed away, his shoes slamming into something hard. Stumbling, he caught himself. He'd tripped over the curb. "I don't want you to be mine."
Isaac licked his swollen lips. He blinked, glassy eyes struggling to focus. "What do you mean?"
"I like you," Stiles said. "Too much."
Isaac's face slowly creased as Stiles spoke and he was drawn back to reality. The golden haze faded from his eyes.
"I'm scared," Stiles continued, "because I-I met you a-at the perfectly wrong time. I don't want to use you, and I don't want to n-need anyone else ever again."
Stiles burned all over as he spoke. His eyes, his chest, his stomach, his legs that threatened to give out on him. His mind and body screamed so many things all at once, telling him that he was doing the right thing, but also that it hurt too much and he should stop, yet that he should keep going, faster, get it all out before he could take it back.
"Are you using me?" Isaac asked.
"I don't know. I don't think so. But I'm not sure of anything anymore. You changed e-everything."
"That's not 'not sure.' You're sure of something. You're sure of how you feel. How do you feel?"
"What?"
"When I'm with you. When I'm kissing you and touching you. When you hear my voice. How do you feel?"
Stiles realized he was crying when salt dripped into his mouth. His hazy head, jumbled and confused, disconnected from his mouth and from logic and reason. Words tumbled from his lips before he could process them, keep them, or bury them. A heaviness hung in his chest, and a sickening whirl of butterflies, longing and fear erupted inside his stomach.
"Like I'm on fire!" Stiles exclaimed. "That's how I feel when we're together. The most explosive, consuming, painful, exhilarating fire! I-I'm always thinking about you, and itching to be around you. When we're apart, all I can think about is when I can see you again. I'm starting to memorize your voice and your laugh, and your smile and the chip on your bottom right tooth, and how you hate eating hamburgers with the buns and refuse to wear anything but ankle socks because anything else is an 'abomination.'"
Isaac rushed forward and slapped a hand to Stiles' chest, over his heart. "So we feel the same. And you know it, Stiles. You know that this is right."
Tears tickled down Stiles's cheeks. Isaac swam before him, blurred and distorted. "I don't want to need anyone else ever again. I don't want to depend on someone. I need to know that I can survive on my own. I need to know that I'm not losing my fucking mind."
"Of course you're losing your mind," Isaac said slowly, voice thick and shaky with emotion. "If we weren't losing our minds, we wouldn't be doing this right. I promise you, Stiles, this—what we have—it's worth losing your mind over."
Isaac leaned in to kiss Stiles, but he pulled away. He placed his hand over Isaac's, and, for a moment, he held it, pressed to his heart. But then he closed his eyes and detached Isaac's hand from his chest.
"I'm not asking you to wait for me," Stiles whispered. Struggling to speak over the lump in his throat, Stiles sucked in breaths. Useless breaths that did nothing to ease the ache and burn within. "I couldn't do that. But I—I can't do this...I'm s—I'm sorry."
    "What are you talking about? Stiles, what are you saying?"
    "Don't make me say it." Stiles struggled to speak over the tears that he was killing himself to hold back. "Please."
    "'Please?'" Isaac laughed bitterly.
    "I need to go." Stiles turned to leave, but Isaac darted in front of him.
    "You mean, run? 'Cause that's what you're best at, right? Running away?" Isaac latched onto Stiles's shoulders with shaking hands.
    Stiles wanted to be angry, but all he could be was hurt, less about what Isaac had said and more about the fact that he was right, and it was well-deserved.
    "I'm not running away," Stiles said.
    "Don't fucking lie to me!" Isaac exclaimed. "I know you, Stiles. I fucking know you. Better than anyone else. Better than I know myself. Stop hiding from me, from yourself. I deserve the truth. If you're going to run, the least you could do is be honest about it."
    "That's what I'm trying to do!" Stiles turned and to wipe away the tears that had managed to escape down his cheeks.
    Once again, Isaac slid in front of him. "You don't have to be alone to find yourself, Stiles. I know that you're lost, I know that you're healing, and that's okay, but you're using it as an excuse to torture yourself. I won't let you—"
    "Just let me go!"
    "No! If you want to find yourself, then by all means, do it. Take the time you need, do what you need to do, but don't leave me. Don't walk away. Please. You can do all of that and stay. Stay, please."
    "I can't, Ice."
    "Why not? Because you think you don't deserve to be happy? You do, and I make you happy. I know I do. I see it in your eyes when you look at me. It's the same way I look at you."
    Isaac's lips trembled uncontrollably. Tears ran down his face, a river of pain unleashed.
    "You have to let me go."
    "Why?"
    "Because I'm not good for you. I'm going to hurt you, because I can't do this. I can't lov—" Stiles cut himself off.
    As Isaac folded before him, like someone had cut him down at the knees, Stiles shattered. Just say it, You fucking coward, just say it, he begged himself. Say it and this ends. Say it and you can have him in your arms again. Where he belongs, where you belong.
    But he couldn't. Instead, he stood there, frozen, as if watching a train run off its track and crash into an explosion of flames. Helpless. Why couldn't he just fucking say it?
    Isaac straightened himself and pulled Stiles into an embrace. He clung to him with a desperation that chilled Stiles to his very bones. Everything in him burned, screamed, ached to wrap his arms around Isaac and never let him go. The fear was too much. He couldn't move.
    "I'm begging you," Isaac gasped. "Don't walk away like this. You know where you need to be, and it's with me. Please don't let Chris win. Stop letting him hurt you."
   "Don't make this harder than it needs to be. We should end it now before it's too late."
    "It's already too late! Be strong. Be brave, like I know you are, and just come home with me. We don't have to change, we can stay how we are, I don't care."
    "You need someone better. Someone who's ready for you. Someone who isn't so fucked up."
    "What I need is you. Stiles, this is killing me. You say you don't want to hurt me, so don't. Don't break my fucking heart. We're both fucked up, didn't you notice? So we understand each other. No one's ever ready for this. No one's ready for their life to change. It just does, and you go through it and you make it out on the other side because that's the only choice. I'm scared too, but I can't run away from you. I could never do that. Don't run away from me. I could never find better because you're the best there is, Sti. You're everything."
    "I'm sorry." Stiles grabbed Isaac's hands in his, kissed them, let them fall, and walked away.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I decided to split this chapter into two parts because my heart couldn't handle continuing (and my battery was dying 🤣)

Please leave any feedback that you have while reading! Thank you all for reading, commenting and voting :) Visit the story on AO3! My username there is @/burningahighwaytohades.

Find the soundtrack of songs that inspired, or coincide with, this work on Apple Music and YouTube.

Hold Me Closer, a Stisaac fan-fiction by iceandtanqueray: the soundtrack: https://music.apple.com/us/playlist/hold-me-closer-a-stisaac-fan-fiction-by/pl.u-55DPpLVh8kg86BW