Scisaac One Shots!

Drunken Love

Scott set his glass down, his eyes welling up with tears.

"Woah," Stiles said. "You okay, buddy?"

A lump formed in Scott's throat. "Yeah.. It's just.."

"Just what?"

Scott rubbed his temples. "He's just... He's just so hot," he whispered.

Stiles furrowed his eyebrow, confused at first. Then, his gaze followed Scott's across the room.

Scott was looking at Isaac.

His jaw dropped slightly. I mean, Scott was drunk, right? He had to be drunk.

You're thoughts are only amplified when you're drunk. Stiles' subconscious told him. Shut up. He told his subconscious.

"What?" Stiles asked, making sure he heard right.

"Isaac.. I mean.." Scott let out a frustrated growl. "His jawline- and, and... his hair is just- fuck." He stuffed his face with his hands. Stiles pat his back awkwardly.

"Okay... Well, uh-"

"You don't get it, Stiles!" He moaned and downing the rest of his drink. "I just want to lick him."

"Okay, you're cut off-"

Scott grabbed his glass before Stiles could. "Hit me again!" He slurred towards the bartender, not without receiving a wary look from Stiles.

He patted his intoxicated friend on the back once again. For awhile now, he had known that Scott was going through a rough time. Stiles had to give him credit, he sure couldn't stay strong for as long as Scott has. He was the glue that held the pack together, even in panicked times, there was Scott, sitting there like the eye of the storm. But seeing him descend into a drunken mess, riddled Stiles with guilt.

"I'm gonna take my shirt off," Scott said.

"No you're not."

"No I'm not. I'm going to talk to Isaac."

Before he could stop him, Scott had already stumbled off his barstool and wobbled over to where Isaac was sitting, completely cutting in on a conversation he was having with a girl. Stiles couldn't help but watch, shaking his hand.

"Isaaaaccc." Scott giggled. "How you doin'?"

Stiles felt physical pain. Even sober, he was a terrible flirt.

Isaac laughed. "Are you drunk?"

Scott pouted. "No."

"Holy shit, you're wasted."

"And you're cute."

Stiles felt like banging his head against the table, the overbearing secondhand embarrassment made him wince.

Isaac let out a laugh that filled the whole bar. "Okay.. I should probably take this away from you."

As Isaac tried pulled Scott's drink away from him, Scott kept his grip solid. In a split second, the scotch was on the floor and Scott's lips were on Isaac's.

That's when Stiles knew he had to intervene.

"Shit. Okay, Scott. No, no, no, no, no." He pulled Scott off of the other boy. Isaac looked both confused and shell-shocked.

"Is.. Is he okay?"

"Yeah, totally. He tried to kiss me too, he's plastered," Every word except "plastered" was a blatant lie. "I'll get him home."

"I could do it," Isaac offered. "He's on my way."

"I really don't think-"

"If he tries to kiss me again, you'll be the first to know."