Hold Me Closer | Stisaac (Serendipity, Book 1)

Chapter 21 (Revised April 2024)

Oh, honey, every time you move, I grow fonder
Now I've played too long, it's far too late to run
Am I crazy for trippin' over your heart?
Oh, you just pull me in close
I'll just kick off my clothes
You're makin' me anxious in all the right places
Oh, I just need you to know
I'll be here at your door
Just tell me you're ready, don't be unsteady
- Aidan Bissett, 'All That I'm Craving'

    Leaning against the wall outside Lydia's apartment, Stiles's back vibrated from the bass pounding within. It almost pulled his attention away from Isaac's lips and hands as they explored his body slowly—almost. The frigid autumn air collided with the warmth of Isaac against him.
"We—should—probably—go—in—now," Stiles said between kisses.
"Do we have to?" Isaac whispered, moving his lips to Stiles's jaw.
Stiles swallowed against the butterflies lodged in his throat. "We already told them we were on our way. We've been here for twenty minutes. Not that I wanna stop what we're doing, 'cause it's great. Really great. But—"
Isaac sighed and pulled away. "I know, I know." He twisted his lips at Stiles in defeat, gave him one more kiss, and bent down to retrieve the bottle of tequila he'd set on the floor beside them. With a deep breath, he shoved the door open and led Stiles inside.
A long hallway forked out from the small entryway. expanding into a kitchen and dining room on the left and living room on the right. A dark hardwood floor gleamed. Two full black leather sofas formed an L beside the door. A stained-black wooden coffee table, empty but for a small stack of magazines and marble drink coasters separated the sofas from a set of matching armchairs. The far wall led to what Stiles assumed was the balcony. A large television hung on the wall beside the balcony door, below it a sleek glass stand that hosted nothing but a DVD player, a vase of plastic red roses and a Bluetooth stereo system.
The kitchen, separated by a half-open, multi-colored polka-dot curtain, revealed a glimpse of a wrap-around granite counter, crowded with various snack foods and bottles of alcohol. From the little that Stiles knew about Lydia, her sleek, minimalistic abode suited her well. Although, the lack of artistic decoration was a bit surprising. Considering her self-portrait on the alley wall downtown, he'd expected...Well, he wasn't sure what, but he'd expected something more.
Scott sat in an armchair, legs up to his chest, conversing animatedly with Derek, who had nestled into a corner of the sofa.
"The whole fucking neighborhood can hear the music!" Isaac shouted as he closed the door behind him.
A flurry of blonde hair burst into the entryway to envelop them into a hug.
    "You made it!" Erica exclaimed, slapping Stiles on the shoulder. She pointed at the kitchen. "Alcohol's in there, but take it easy for a bit. Dinner will be ready soon."
"Oh, God," Isaac grimaced. "Is Lydia going through another Gordon Ramsay phase?"
"Don't say that like I'm a bad cook," Lydia said, appearing at Isaac's shoulder. "You love my cooking."
"Lyds, I've seen you burn water."
"I didn't burn the water, I burned the pot, and that's only because I forgot I was cooking."
"Exactly my point."
Lydia pursed her lips. "You like my nachos."
"That's because you drown them in cheese and you can't go wrong with cheese."
Lydia narrowed her eyes and shook her head before looking at Stiles. "Stiles, I'm glad you could make it."
"Thanks for inviting me," Stiles said. "You have a nice place."
"Thank you. You're welcome anytime. Just don't rip any of my sheets." She looked pointedly at Isaac.
Isaac blushed. "I paid you back."
"And it was worth every dime, I'm sure."
"It totally was," Stiles agreed. "I'll send you the photos later."
"You will not!" Isaac gasped, eyes ballooning.
Stiles made a contemplative face. "Oh, I might."
Erica leaned into Stiles. "You better show me too."
"Deal," Stiles replied without breaking eye contact with Isaac.
A loud thud shook the floor. They all turned to the living room, where Scott lay crumpled on the floor beside the overturned armchair. Lydia descended on him, yelling various curse words that quickly drowned out in the music. She snatched up a throw pillow from the sofa and beat him with it. Erica, oblivious to the walloping, strode to the stereo system and turned the music down a bit before plopping down onto the couch beside Derek.
Scott rolled to his feet in an attempt to dodge Lydia's blows. He flipped the armchair upright and ducked behind it. Lydia gave up after one last smack to his head. She pushed past him and threw herself down onto the second sofa, cradling the pillow against her chest. Scott, blushing red from laughter, slid back into his seat and nudged at Lydia's knee with his foot. She looked at him threateningly, but he did it again anyway.
Isaac stepped closer to Stiles and buried his face into his shoulder. "This is going to be a long night."
"It's going to be a long, fun night," Stiles corrected. "Come on. What's the worst that could happen? Well, other than Lydia murdering Scott for breaking her furniture."
Isaac straightened to grin down at Stiles. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a male voice interrupted. Stiles turned to see a tall, skinny man with short blonde hair and twinkling green eyes flash him a pearly smile. Isaac glanced at the man with a flicker of annoyance quickly hidden behind a face of stone.
    "Hey, Jackson," he greeted flatly.
    Jackson nodded at him curtly and returned his attention to Stiles. He extended a fist. Stiles bumped it with his own.
    "Stiles, I assume?" he said.
    "Yeah. Nice to meet you."
    "You too."
    "I didn't realize you'd be here," Isaac said.
    Jackson looked at him. "It's my girlfriend's party. Why wouldn't I be?"
    Isaac shrugged. "You didn't show up at the wedding, so who can guess when you'll pop up."
    "I was busy," Jackson stated.
    "Well, I'm glad you could make it this time," Isaac said icily.
Isaac glanced at Stiles and moved past Jackson into the living room. Stiles, taking the hint, followed, nodding politely at Jackson as he passed. Scott looked up as Isaac and Stiles sat down beside Erica and Derek.
     His face lit up. "Heeeey, you're here!" He stood, raced around the coffee table, and pulled Isaac into a bear hug before slinging himself into Isaac's lap.
     "Scott," Isaac said, "as much as I've always enjoyed this, uh, platonic physical closeness we have, I might have to draw the line at the fact that your feet are touching me while there's a perfectly good seat right there."
     He gestured to the armchair Scott had been sitting in, and narrowed his eyes in annoyance—Jackson had somehow slithered past them and taken Scott's place. Scott twisted around to look.
    "No there's not, Jackson's sitting there," Scott said, eyebrows creased in confusion.
    "I know," Isaac snapped. "I can see that now."
    Isaac sighed, defeated, and patted Scott's knee.
    "Aren't you two, like, a thing?" Jackson asked, nodding at Stiles and Isaac. He pointed at Scott, sprawled in Isaac's lap. "Doesn't that bother you?"
    Before either of them could answer, Scott's eyes widened and he scrambled to his feet. He waved his arms at Stiles apologetically. "I'm so sorry," he said, "I really didn't think—we're just friends, I swear."
     "It's fine," Stiles said quickly. "Really. It's not—I didn't take it that way. It just seemed friendly to me, I—"
     Jackson raised his eyebrows and raked his gaze over Stiles. "So, that type of thing is okay?"
    "What thing?"
    "Yeah, what thing?" Scott asked, turning to Jackson. "There's not a thing, dude. Stop trying to make a thing."
    Jackson held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not the one who just put his body all over someone else's boyfriend."
     Stiles, Isaac, and Scott replied simultaneously.
    "Maybe not this time," Scott muttered.
     "We're not boyfriends," Stiles and Isaac said.
     Jackson raised an eyebrow at Scott. "What the hell does that mean?"
    "You know what it means."
Jackson leaned forward. "Oh, do I?"
"Jackson," Lydia snapped. "Knock it off."
"I'm not doing anything!"
Lydia narrowed her eyes at him. "You're being rude."
"Oh, I'm the one being rude?"
"Yes, you are. Get it together or please leave."
Jackson shook his head curtly and stood. He left the room and pounded down the hallway. A door slammed. Lydia jumped at the sound, flung a stray hair out of her face, sighed, and closed her eyes for a moment before following him.
     Ten minutes later, she resurfaced sans Jackson and wordlessly closed herself off in the kitchen. The curtain did nothing, of course, to muffle the sounds of her angry sighs and the clanging and banging of cupboard doors and kitchenware. Not long after, she flung the curtain aside and emerged with a freshly poured glass of rosé. Her cheeks slightly flushed to match, she smiled at them all and raised her glass.
    "Dinner's ready," she said. "Let's get this party started."
    The group of them thronged toward the kitchen. Erica ushered Lydia into a chair at the dining table while the rest of them grabbed the plates and bowls of food and arranged them in the center of the already-set table. A rounded dark wood table was emphasized by sleek black dishware. One by one, they settled into chairs, ignoring the one empty place setting, though Stiles noticed Lydia glancing at it quite frequently and taking a sip of wine afterward, like clockwork.
Heaping plates and bowls of spiced chicken breast, homemade mashed potatoes, salad, and steamed vegetables were plopped onto plates with serving spoons and passed around the table until each person had a towering serving. Lydia focused on making sure everyone had full glasses of water and an alcohol of their choice.
Stiles beheld his feast. "Wow, Lydia, this looks amazing."
"Thank you."
"Yeah, I'm sorry I doubted you," Isaac said.
Lydia shrugged. "You had reason to. I've just been watching a whole lot of the cooking channel lately. I guess it paid off."
     As they started eating, Stiles noticed Lydia's posture slowly relax from tight shoulders and a stiff face to free movements and genuine smiles. With each glance at the empty placement meant for Jackson, she seemed to care less and less. Or maybe she was just getting better at pretending to care less. By the time dinner was halfway over, and Scott had disappeared from the table and began rifling through a closet down the hallway, an ease settled over them. Stiles didn't feel out of place or left out, and although he didn't quite feel like he belonged, he still felt...wanted.
    The conversation that whirled around him was constantly twisted, opened, or paused to include a space for Stiles. Shared anecdotes and memories between the five others led to deeper explanations so that Stiles could connect the dots, questions about him and his own experiences, or vague invitations to similar future plans. A good buzz had encompassed all of them except for Derek by the time empty dishes were pushed forward, to be handled later once full stomachs had digested. Although Derek had downed a few drinks of his own, he seemed to be willingly holding back. His large, bright eyes flickered between all of them in different degrees of watchfulness in an almost fatherly, protective manner. Many times his gaze caught and held to Erica with particular wariness and admiration. He seemed to be perfectly comfortable holding himself back so that his new wife could let go and abandon her inhibitions.
    Stiles excused himself to the bathroom, his body demanding the release of the three glasses of wine he'd downed. He smiled to himself as the chaotic conversation carried to him through the bathroom door. It was no mystery why Isaac was who he was, being surrounded by a steady group of such amazing people. He felt supremely lucky to be included in it when he'd thought it was something he'd never experience.
    Jackson was leaning against the wall by the door when Stiles stepped into the hall.
Stiles jumped in surprise. "Oh. Hi. I'm sorry, did you need the bathroom?"
"Nope."
"...Okay."
Jackson looked at him with the slightest of smirks, but didn't respond so Stiles slid past him. Jackson stepped in front of him.
"So, you and Isaac, huh?" he asked in a tone that implied it was less of a question and more of an accusatory observation.
Stiles took a step back. "We're friends."
Jackson arched an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Is that a problem?"
Jackson shrugged, his eyes roaming Stiles up and down quickly before returning to his face. "Just not what I pictured."
"Pictured for...?"
"For Isaac."
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"He just doesn't really strike me as your type."
Stiles narrowed his eyes. A twinge of anger curled into his stomach. "You don't even know me."
"No, but I know him."
"And?"
Jackson slinked forward. "All I'm saying is, be careful."
"I'm not going to hurt Isaac."
"That's not what I mean."
"Okay, so what do you mean?"
"It won't last. Whatever 'friendship' you have. Don't get your hopes up, Stiles."
Stiles's cheeks flushed. Now he moved closer to Jackson, close enough to see a freckle of brown inside his green eyes and smell the cheap musk of Walmart cologne.
"Thanks for the warning, Jackson," Stiles said tightly. "But I'm not interested in whatever kind of insight you're trying to offer."
Jackson chewed his cheek, amused. "Just trying to help you out."
"No, you're not."
Jackson's gaze flickered to Stiles's lips. "He's weak and damaged. You could do better."
Stiles chuckled. "So could Lydia."
Jackson's arrogance morphed into anger. Stiles turned to walk away and ran directly into Lydia. She eyed them cautiously.
"Is everything okay?" she asked, immediately narrowing her eyes at Jackson.
Stiles glanced back at him. "Yeah. Everything's fine. Just...getting to know Jackson, here."
He slid past Lydia and returned to his seat at the dining table to find Scott tossing bits of chicken into the air and attempting to catch them in his mouth. Erica unsuccessfully tried to snatch his plate from him. Judging by the chicken littering the table and his shirt, he hadn't been successful yet.
"What did I miss?" Stiles asked.
"Scott's had too much tequila," Erica sighed.
"I told you to hide the tequila," Isaac chortled. "You know how he gets."
A loud bang sounded from the hallway. Scott jumped mid-toss. A bit of chicken fell and bounced off of his forehead. In a blur of black leather, Jackson stormed past them and out of the apartment, slamming the front door closed behind him.
Stiles was the first to stand. He found Lydia sitting on the hallway floor, her head in her hands. As he approached, she lifted her head. Smudged black mascara melded with her tears, forming some kind of twisted watercolor.
"What did he say to you?" Lydia asked.
Stiles slid down beside her, bringing his knees to his chest. "Nothing important. Just..." Stiles wasn't sure how to describe it, so he didn't try.
"I'm sorry, Stiles. I shouldn't have invited him."
"Is he always—"
"A complete asshole?"
"That sums it up, I think."
Lydia laughed without amusement. "People change, don't they? They can be different. Better."
"Of course. But...sometimes, people are also just the way that they are."
Lydia nodded and crossed her arms. Defeated, she leaned her head back against the wall. "How long are you supposed to wait for them to change? How do you know if they're going to? How do you know when it's time to let go?"
"If you have to ask, maybe that's the only sign you need."
Lydia caught his gaze. "When I invited him, I told him how important this was to me. I wanted this to go well. I wanted you to have fun. I wanted to get to know you. I wanted you to get to know us. I guess I just hoped that he would do it for me. I'm just...stupid."
"I don't know him at all. I don't really know you, either. But the fact that Isaac loves you, and you love him, tells me everything I need to know about you. So that's why I'm confident as hell in saying that you deserve better than whatever Jackson gives to you. You're not stupid for loving him, or waiting for him to change. That's what love is. It's just that, sometimes, love isn't enough, you know?"
"He wasn't always this way. I don't know what I did that—"
"You didn't do anything, Lydia. Who he is, how he acts, that's on him. Not you. Believe me, I've been where you are. That's how I know. And I know it's so hard, it's fucking impossible to deal with sometimes...But you shouldn't be crying. When you love them, they should be making you smile. Making you laugh. How long has it been since he's done that?"
Lydia shook her head. "So long that I can't remember."
"Everything happens for a reason. Sometimes it keeps happening because we aren't listening. But when we finally do?" Stiles whistled through his teeth. "It's better than we could have imagined."
Lydia wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled. "God, you are, like, a walking self-help book."
"Is that a good thing?"
She laughed. "Yes. Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Is that...is that how you feel about Isaac? Is he what made you listen? Is he better than you imagined?"
Stiles couldn't help but break out into the widest of smiles at the mention of Isaac. "Isaac...is unimaginable." On cue, Isaac's melodic cackle drifted to them from the dining room, churning Stiles's stomach in the best of ways.
Lydia grinned at him, seeming to notice the emotions swirling within him. "Fuck. Why can't I find a man like you?"
"What makes you think I'm so great?"
"The fact that Isaac turns into a little kid in a candy store every time he talks about you. And the fact that you're here, listening to me pour my heart out when I might as well be a stranger."
"Hey, you're Isaac's family. That means you're mine too. I'm here for you anytime."
"Fuuuuck. Isaac is one lucky son of a bitch."
    "I'm the lucky one."

The way you hold your breath, it got me screamin'
Like fire burnin' underneath my skin
Oh, honey, every time I look, you keep teasin'
Think it's finally my turn to take a win
Am I crazy for trippin' over your heart?
- Aidan Bissett, 'All That I'm Craving'

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I struggle with writing group scenes because there's so much going on and so much I want to do, but too much to focus on and I can never quite figure out the right balance, and it's hard to keep terminology from sounding repetitive with so many people interacting. Despite that, hopefully you made it through without rolling your eyes and grimacing TOO many times.

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