• 17 •

2.3K 51 0
                                    

"Talking"  'Thinking...
Important
_writing_



________________________________

    "Stiles?" Scott questioned as he tapped his knuckles lightly on the cracked open door, it shifted open more at the contact and released more of the potent scent from inside the room.

    Scott pulled open the door and stepped in, eyes falling on stiles, who's body curled up more as Scott entered. The alpha dropped his eyes sadly looking at his best friend, his brother, the boy who'd seen him through everything. He'd left stiles alone for so long and just convinced himself the human was okay. It was hard, slightly, to look at the human after the nogitsume. He'd almost killed Isaac, aiden, himself, his father, Scott's mother, Deaton. So many people. But it wasn't him, it was the demon fox that possessed his body, and that's what drew Scott back to his best friend let him see through that hardship.

    Except know, stiles was curled up on his bed, small tear streaks down his cheek, and a white knuckle grip on his hands. Scott approached the human and laid a gentle hand on the bed, then following it and sitting, stiles stirred slightly and then settled. Scott only watched for a moment before laying a hand to the other man's shoulder and squeezing lightly to shake him awake. The motion did the trick and stiles was up in a seconds notice. Staring back at Scott as the werewolf smiles and pleaded with his eyes for Stiles not to send him off.

    "H-hey." Stiles muttered breathless and still half unaware of his surroundings.

    Scott nodded. "Morning sleeping beauty." There was no response, only a scoff as stiles laid back on his bed. "Dinners ready. Liam said something was wrong, I can see why." Scott lifted his nose up to show that his cheymo signals smelt like shit.

    "Yeah, I'm a little wacky in the head right know." Stiles's hands slid down his face as he tried to wake up and get to full stiles level.

    "Being cooped up in a house does that, but we talked to Deaton, he says he has some information for you." Stiles perked up at Scott's mention of the vet and his infinite knowledge.

    "As in like! Get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here knowledge." Stiles leaned up on his elbows. Scott nodded happily, though the words hurt some what more then they'd probably been meant to- probably.

    "And why." Scott finished. "Why are you so stressed specifically, like- wacky worded stress." Scott grinned at his coding, he always felt like he understood stiles better then anyone else. Hence the code of- I'm being a little crazy- to -I'm a little wacky right know-, and knowing which is more dangerous. Mieczyslaw Stilinski rules anyhow.

    Stiles let out a half scoff like breath as he listened to his best friend. "As innn..." stiles hesitated, deeply hesitated as he decided weather or not Scott should know this very important detail in -wacky-brain-day- or if it was unneeded. Needed, he came upon. "As in~" he sang with annoyance already gathering his pillow to slap across one of their faces. "Me kissing Derek fucking Hale wacky." Scott's jaw dropped and he stared. Stiles pulled the pillow over his own face as blush crept across his cheeks.

    Nothing came, and stiles was seriously considering suffocating underneath his pillow. Yes, kiss is a very- weak, word for what he did, or rather forced upon the alpha of their pack. And no, he is not admitting any further as to what it was, or how it felt, or how it sent his head reeling so deeply that he wanted to do it again, or how his body literally shivered underneath Derek's touch when he was confronted by the alpha. And no, not in the normal -I'm-scared-for-my-freaking-life-cause-I-annoyed-a mythological-alpha-werewolf- way. No, no. More like the -I-kinda-wanna-expose-myself-to-that-experience-again-and-deeply-because-it-felt-incredibly-good- kind of way. And hell did that scare the shit out of one traumatized human.

Changing Patterns Where stories live. Discover now