"Can I... can I kiss you?"
In which somewhere along the way between all the fighting and death, two boys found themselves falling in love.
~
BoyXBoy
Stiles Stilinski X Male OC
Based on season 2
Act 2 published Oct. 30, 2025. (Based on Season 3A)
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The water was warm, steady and muffled, like rain falling on a window that wouldn't open. The sound filled the space between their bodies as steam wrapped around them, rising in soft tendrils that curled against the ceiling. Light bled gently through the fogged glass, pale and grey and unintrusive, like it knew how fragile this moment was.
Stiles stood in front of Leo, his hands moving slowly, reverently, across his chest. Not to trace muscle or tease or tempt. But to remember. To check. To feel. The pads of his fingers skimmed over skin, slick with water, until they paused.
Three faint red lines. No longer raw but not entirely gone.
Stiles didn't say anything. He just stared down at them with a quiet that made Leo's chest ache more than the wounds ever had.
"They're healing," Leo said finally, voice soft. "Faster than they should, maybe."
He didn't add because my magic's getting stronger again or because it's tied to my emotions and lately all I feel is you, but he thought it, and maybe Stiles heard it anyway. Because he nodded once, eyes still focused on the marks, and kept his touch steady.
Stiles leaned in slowly until his lips pressed against the center of Leo's chest. Between the scars. Not kissing them. Just resting there. Like he was anchoring Leo in place.
"You could've died," Stiles whispered against his skin.
Leo's hand came up, fingers threading gently through the wet hair at the nape of Stiles' neck. "But I didn't."
Stiles pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. His pupils were wide and eyes glassy. Not from tears, but from the weight of everything that had almost happened. That still could.
"I don't care if you're healing fast. I don't care if you're strong enough to take it." His voice was low but steady. "You can't keep throwing yourself into it like you're not afraid of dying."
Leo swallowed. "Should I be afraid of me dying?"
"I am."
The words landed in Leo's chest with a slow burn. Stiles didn't raise his voice. He didn't beg. He just said it, real and raw, and for a second Leo couldn't breathe.
He closed the distance between them.
The kiss wasn't hurried. It wasn't about hunger or distraction. It was slow, deep, and meant. Leo's hands cradled the sides of Stiles' face, wet thumbs brushing over cheekbones. Stiles leaned in like he didn't want to be anywhere else. Like if the world cracked open outside the bathroom door, he'd still choose to fall right here, with Leo.
The steam clung to them. The water kept falling. The kiss deepened, lips parting, breaths hitching. Leo tasted the quiet ache in Stiles' mouth, and Stiles kissed him like the answer to everything could be found in the shape of Leo's body.
