After about the fifth time that Isaac had either been beaten unconscious, induced hypothermia, or had his abdomen ripped open, Scott had had enough. He announced that Isaac was going home with him, silently daring Derek to make an issue of it. But apparently Derek had had enough conflict for one day.
“Go with Scott,” relented Derek, glaring back at Scott.
The exchange left Scott seething, upset with Derek’s unrepentant attitude towards the situation that Scott squarely placed on the alpha’s shoulders. Wars were not always won on a battlefield. And yet each day it seemed that Derek led them into a new battle, pushing their physical limits past their breaking points. They were all lucky to still be alive.
The ride was quiet to Scott’s house as he stewed over the recent clash with the alpha pack. He replayed the attack over in his head, watching as each of them was on the receiving end of an alpha-tastic beating. He looked over at Isaac slumped in the passenger seat and his anger was renewed. Isaac’s eyes were barely open and he cradled his left arm close to his body, his clothes soaked in his own blood. The sight broke Scott’s heart. Isaac had lost so much for someone so young, and it seemed that life wasn’t done beating the shit out of him. But that’s where Scott came in. They were werewolves but they were also still people, and right now Isaac didn’t need his alpha, he needed a friend.
When they finally made it to his house, Scott took Isaac upstairs and ushered him into the bathroom next to his bedroom. Once he was convinced Isaac wouldn’t immediately pass out, he allowed him to take a shower to wash away the blood and grime and hopefully a little of the memory of the night’s earlier activities.
Isaac emerged twenty minutes later, looking more refreshed but no less exhausted.
“Hey,” said Scott, more his usual upbeat self once he didn’t have to look at Isaac covered in blood, “How ya feelin’?”
“I’m okay,” shrugged Isaac.
“No offense, dude, but you don’t look okay. You look like you’re about to fall over. Sit down or something.”
“I’m fine,” repeated Isaac, but he sat down on Scott’s bed anyway.
“Okay, well, are you hungry?” asked Scott, hoping he could do something for Isaac. “I can make something. Nothing too fancy. Maybe mac and cheese? Frozen pizza? Tater tots?”
Isaac considered the thought of food but didn’t seem too interested. “Do you have anything to drink? Maybe some juice?”
“Oh, yeah,” replied Scott. “I think we’ve got orange juice? Is that okay?”
Isaac nodded tiredly.
“Cool, I’ll be right back.”
Scott went downstairs and into the kitchen to find that he thankfully wasn’t lying about the orange juice. He poured two large glasses and, before making his way back upstairs, shoved a container of Pringles under his arm for good measure.
What he found when he got back to his room wasn’t much of a surprise. Isaac was curled up on his bed, sound asleep. Scott smiled fondly as he set the glasses down on the bedside table. He tried to gently pull the blanket at the foot of the bed out from under Isaac’s long legs but it jostled him enough to startle him awake.
“Scott…” breathed Isaac, turning over onto his back.
“It’s okay, Isaac,” whispered Scott, draping the blanket over Isaac. “You’re okay. I’m right here.”
Isaac sighed deeply as he closed his eyes again, relaxing back into the mattress.
Scott switched off the light and left Isaac’s drink on the nightstand. He then took his own glass and sat at his desk, quietly munching chips and sipping his drink while keeping watch over his friend.
Being the mother to Scott McCall wasn’t always an easy thing. Don’t misunderstand, Melissa loved Scott more than anything in the world, and he was a great son. She was proud of his kindness and loyal nature. Proud that he was able to pull his grades back up. He was a smart kid. He just had moments when he didn’t think about what he was doing. For instance, despite the fact that his motorcycle was a fraction of the size of her car, he had an uncanny ability to put it in the garage in such a fashion that she wouldn’t be able to pull her car in. And no matter how many times she asked him not to do it, it would happen again. Things like that are what drove her crazy.
But despite things like that, or maybe because of them, Melissa always wondered what it would’ve been like to have had a second child. Although, when she imagined it, it was never in the form of a fully-grown teenager. But when Scott asked if Isaac could stay with them for a while, she didn’t hesitate. Scott didn’t give any reason for his request, and she didn’t ask for one. She trusted Scott. And, it was Isaac. She knew his history. She also knew about his current living situation. She had nothing against Derek, per se, but she couldn’t imagine that living with Derek was the best option for a kid who, while dealing with whatever supernatural situation was going on, still needed to pass chemistry. He and Scott would be a good influence on each other. She hoped anyway.
Stiles was still a constant presence in the house. Although, it was obvious that Stiles and Scott’s relationship had changed. She chalked it up to the fact that Scott was a werewolf and Stiles was…not. There were just some things that Scott shared with Isaac that he couldn’t share with Stiles.
Isaac moved into the spare bedroom with nothing more than some clothes and textbooks. He was overly polite, tidier than Scott, and, despite her protests, insisted on calling her Mrs. McCall.
She liked Isaac and quickly became used to having him in the house. The place was definitely more lively with the two of them around. She got to experience their constant chatter, the accompanying laughter, and all the other antics of normal teenage boys.
But then again, they weren’t “normal” teenage boys. And when they did certain teenage boy things, like roughhousing, they did it with supernatural speed, strength, and claws. Melissa found it to be a pain in the ass, and she told Scott frequently. Each time he promised they’d take it easy, but they had either forgotten she was in the house or they had a slightly skewed definition of “taking it easy” because they were at it again.
She was in the kitchen packing her lunch and periodically clenching her teeth every time she heard a bang or crash coming from the floor above her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, silently praying for patience. When a few minutes went by with no loud noises, she thought her prayers may have been answered. She put her sandwich in her lunch bag just as Isaac came flying down the stairs, ass over teakettle.
She stood there for a moment, mouth open in disbelief over what she had just witnessed. Scott came hustling down the stairs looking like he was ready to resume their altercation, but halted on the stairs upon seeing his mom.
“Did you just throw Isaac down the stairs?!”asked Melissa, aghast at her son’s behavior.
Scott opened his mouth and blinked several times before answering. “Technically…” replied Scott carefully. “I did not throw him down the stairs.”
“I’m okay,” declared Isaac, despite the wince that crossed his face as he picked himself up off the floor.
“I honestly don’t care,” said Melissa. “I know you’re okay. You two are always going to be okay, because you have the ability to heal at a ridiculous rate. What I am worried about healing are my nerves. And my house!”
Scott and Isaac looked at each other guiltily.
“I just replaced the sliding glass door that you two crashed through last week,” she continued in irritation. “The ceiling fan in the living room only has one blade left on it, and now the light in the refrigerator isn’t working and I’m sure that’s your fault too!”
“At least we didn’t break anything this time,” smiled Scott optimistically, as he came the rest of the way down the stairs. “See.” He patted the bottom of the banister and it broke off in his hand.
Melissa closed her eyes again and took another deep breath before opening them to the two puppy dogs in front of her that went around parading themselves as teenage boys. It was difficult to stay too angry, but she was going to give it her best shot.
“Mom,” said Scott in a rush. “I promise, we’ll get it fixed. You don’t have to worry about it.”
“Oh, you’re going to get it fixed all right,” declared Melissa. “You’re going to find a carpenter, you’re going to be here while the carpenter fixes it, and you’re going to pay the carpenter.”
Scott opened his mouth to respond but Isaac beat him to it. “No problem, Mrs. McCall. We’ll have it taken care of. And we’re sorry. Or, at least, I am.”
“I’m sorry too!” whined Scott as he shot Isaac a glare.
“Good,” said Melissa, a little calmer, her anger essentially gone. “Now, I have to get to work. Do you two think you can refrain from breaking anything else while I’m gone?”
“Sure thing,” replied Isaac, a tiny smirk twisting up at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll keep him in line.”
Scott’s mouth dropped open. “You started it. He started it!”
Scott quieted but gave Isaac a little shove. She looked at them both in exasperation before grabbing her lunch and heading for the door.
“I’ll see you both later,” she said.
“Bye, Mrs. McCall.”
“Bye mom,” called Scott. “Love you.”
As frustrating as being a mom can be, there was always those moments that made it all worth it. One of those moments came when she got home that night after a long and stressful shift and found her kitchen had been cleaned, flowers were in a vase on the counter, and her favorite takeout was in the fridge.
The boys had obviously gone out and the house was peaceful. As she warmed up her food and sat down to eat, she sighed in contentment. But after a few bites, she sighed again, a little less content.
It was too quiet.
At first, Isaac didn’t like Scott. Scott was a little too ‘save the spotted whales’ for him. A little too caring. A little too heroic. A little too much of a ray of sunshine. It pissed Isaac off. Until, of course, the night of the rave when suddenly that caring, heroic ray of sunshine was aimed at him. Scott had been concerned for his safety. For no good reason. Just because he cared about people. It was ridiculous.
Upon later reflection, Isaac admitted that Scott was pretty selfless.
And loyal, and brave, and kind. And pretty much all the traits that Isaac admired in a person.
He started to spend more and more time with Scott and it became addictive, to simply be around him, to be on the receiving end of a smile or a knock to the shoulder for a job well done. He liked being on Scott’s ‘team.’ Being at his side made Isaac feel stronger, braver, a little bit indestructible. Although, that last thing is what was usually responsible for him constantly getting his ass kicked.
No matter what the odds, Isaac was a fighter. Scott seemed to admire that in Isaac, up to a point anyway. He didn’t seem to like the fact that Isaac accepted the pain as if it wasn’t a big deal. It was obviously a big deal to Scott because he moved Isaac into his home one night when Isaac had been nearly torn to pieces.
As he adjusted to life as an honorary McCall, he and Scott naturally became closer. They spent nearly all of their time together and became good friends. He knew he wasn’t Scott’s best friend. That was Stiles. But Scott was Isaac’s best friend. The only one he’d ever had. It was a great feeling.
But gradually his feelings for Scott began to change. He couldn’t tell you when it had started but he could tell you when he became aware of it.
It was an unremarkable day. Bored, Isaac was idly scanning through his phone when he stopped on a picture of Scott that he had taken one morning about a week before. They had arrived at school and Scott had taken off his helmet to reveal that his hair was a mess, having been still wet from his shower.
“Nice hair,” Isaac chided.
Scott ran his hands through his dark locks, which only served to make him look more disheveled.
“How do I look?” asked Scott, striking a goofy pose.
Isaac laughed and raised his phone to take a picture. “Sexy,” he joked.
Isaac smiled to himself as he recalled the occasion. He then went about his day as usual but found himself pulling the picture up several more times.
He didn’t think much of it until the end of the day when he was standing at his locker, staring once again at the picture of Scott on his phone. It wasn’t a big deal. He just liked to look at it. He liked Scott’s goofball smile and how he didn’t take himself too seriously, especially since, despite Isaac’s teasing, Scott’s hair didn’t look bad at all. He looked good. He looked…he looked good.
Isaac suddenly felt a little warm.
Flustered, he shoved his phone into his back pocket and took a breath, shaking off whatever had gotten into him. It was nothing.
Then, less than a minute later, Scott showed up in the flesh and Isaac’s heart did a little flip that it had never done before. Scott, of course, noticed it too.
“What’s up, dude?” asked Scott. “You okay?”
“What? Oh, yeah,” replied Isaac. “Just, ya know, glad the day’s over. Got a ton of homework.”
“Well, come on then, grab your stuff and let’s go.”
For days after, Isaac denied that his feelings for Scott were anything more than platonic but he found himself thinking of Scott more and more until, eventually, Scott was all that he thought about. He was finally able to admit it to himself. He was head over heels for Scott.
He worried that Scott would figure out what was going on and put an end to it but, whether Scott had an inkling or not, his friendship never faltered.
It was weird, experiencing everything again through new eyes. Every smile, laugh, touch all felt different when it was with the one person you cared the most about in the world. And sometimes, when he was feeling bold, he would lean into Scott a little more than he used to and he thrilled at Scott’s response when he leaned back. It was in moments like those where he dared to allow himself to hope that Scott might one day share his feelings.
But that hope was resolutely crushed when he walked into the cafeteria one day and saw Scott sitting next to Allison, who didn’t even have their lunch. Their backs were to him so he was able to stand there and watch them for a minute without their notice. They were laughing about one of their shared classes. Allison put her hand on Scott’s forearm briefly. Scott bent a little bit closer.
Isaac burned with jealousy.
He was about to turn around and leave when he reminded himself that he had no right to be jealous, he had no rights to Scott at all. And, if he wanted to continue his friendship with Scott, he was going to have to figure out a way to deal with Allison and anyone else who came in and out of Scott’s life.
He finally made his way over and sat down with them. Although, he had no appetite. He also had nothing to add to the conversation, no matter how hard he tried. When they finally parted ways, his chest was so tight it was painful. He couldn’t do this.
In American Lit, he ignored the teacher’s lecture in favor of brooding over his own troubles. Where once being with Scott made him feel strong and confident, he now felt weak, jealous, and petty. He had indulged himself too long. Scott was meant for someone else, not him. He had to accept that. He needed to get some perspective. And the only way to do that was to be away from Scott. The first step was that he had to move out of his house. And he needed to do it right away.
With that goal in mind, he skipped his last class, preferring to clear out his things while Scott wasn’t there. It would be easier to give his excuses to Mrs. McCall rather than Scott who, of course, could tell when he was lying.
He snuck up to his room and grabbed his few belongings. He knew Mrs. McCall was home and he had a story ready to tell her to explain his departure. But when he made his way down the stairs and came face to face with Melissa, his intentions flew out the window.
“Isaac!” she said, startled. “What are you doing home so early?”
Home. This was his home. His stomach knotted up, a new revelation dawning on him. Not only was he losing his best friend, he was losing the woman who had become like a second mother to him. His carefully constructed lies flew out the window and, instead, out came the truth.
“I’m in love with Scott,” he admitted quickly, quietly. Painfully.
“Oh, honey,” she responded in sympathy, taking his hand and leading him to sit with her on the couch.
They sat quietly for a few minutes, Melissa rubbed his back comfortingly. “Scott cares about you.”
“I know,” he agreed, a sad smile disappearing quickly from his face. “Just not the way I wish he did.”
“You don’t have to leave.”
Isaac wished so much for that to be true but knew that he could no longer stay.
“It’s…” he began, before taking a quick breath. “It’s too hard to be around him right now. It’s not his fault. I just…I have to go.”
They sat for some time, Melissa offering advice and the kindness he had come to expect from her. It was helpful just to be able to talk to someone about it. He didn’t really have anyone for that sort of thing.
Unfortunately, they both lost track of time and, despite his werewolf senses, Isaac got very little warning before Scott was walking in the front door.
“Hey, Isaac, where were you?” asked Scott without preamble. “I waited at your locker forever.”
Scott was confused by the sad little tableau they made sitting there. Both seemed upset to see him. He noticed the bag at Isaac’s feet.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Isaac had not been prepared for an exchange with Scott so he was grateful when Mrs. McCall took the initiative. She stood up while Isaac tried to pull himself together.
“Scott,” said Melissa. “Isaac’s going to move back to Derek’s.”
“What? Why?” he asked his mom while trying to catch Isaac’s eye.
“Derek needs him,” she tried to explain but Scott was having none of it.
“You’re lying,” he stated simply. “Why are you lying? What’s going on? Isaac?”
Isaac stood up and hitched his bag over his shoulder, steeling himself as he turned to face Scott.
“I have to go,” said Isaac, meeting Scott’s eyes only briefly before skittering away.
“Why? I don’t understand.”
“It’s just for the best,” Isaac grasped at clichés.
“For the best? What are you talking about? Why would that be for the best?"
Scott took a step toward him and Isaac stepped back, hating himself for the pained look on Scott’s face.
“Isaac, what is going on? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Scott,” Melissa said, trying to intervene.
“No!” growled Scott, taking Isaac’s bag from him and throwing it on the floor behind himself. “No, you’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
Scott grabbed Isaac’s shirt in his fist. It wouldn’t have been hard to escape from the hold but Isaac had never felt weaker in his life. The last thing he wanted to do was fight with Scott and, yet, he couldn’t bring himself to admit his feelings no matter how much he wanted to.
“Isaac, please, just tell me,” there were so many emotions evident in Scott’s pleas - desperation, confusion, hurt. “Whatever it is…I don’t care. Just tell me. Please.”
“I can’t…” Isaac choked out, shaking his head.
“Isaac!” Scott pleaded, tugging at Isaac to at least get him to look him in the eye.
“Scott…” Isaac replied feebly.
“It’s me, Isaac,” entreated Scott, plaintively. “You can tell me.”
Isaac finally couldn’t take it anymore. He gave in to his weakness. He grabbed Scott’s face with both hands and kissed him hard, lingering only for a moment to savor what he would never experience again. Scott stood frozen in shock. Isaac then reached for his bag and rushed out the door.
The sound of his exit echoed throughout the house.
Melissa contemplated Scott while he stood there blinking and seemingly unable to move. She gently took his hand and guided him to the couch, quietly waiting to offer her support.
“Don’t you think it’s a little strange that the twins weren’t in school today?” asked Stiles, following Scott into the McCall kitchen where they deposited their backpacks.
“So, they weren’t in school,” argued Scott. “So, what? What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. I’m just saying it might mean something. They’ve changed their pattern so maybe they’re gonna make a move.“
Scott looked at him skeptically.
“Okay, I don’t know!” admitted Stiles. “But I think it’s a good idea to give everyone a head’s up, to be on the lookout. I’ve been sending out the bat signal. Or, in our case, explanatory texts. It’s a good system. Kind of like the coins they used in Harry Potter. Only wordier. Anyway, I’ve heard back from Boyd, Allison, Lydia. Nothing from Isaac.”
Stiles didn’t relish bringing the subject of Isaac up. It pretty much guaranteed that the conversation came to a screeching halt.
“I assume you guys are still avoiding each other,” added Stiles when Scott didn’t respond. “Given that, since I’m your best friend, he’s been avoiding me too.”
Stiles rolled his eyes at Scott’s lack of reaction. He really wanted to give Scott a good shake sometimes.
“So, he likes you. So what?” said Stiles with a casual shrug. “You guys should be able to figure this out, right?”
Scott continued staring at the floor, his emotions obviously filled with turmoil. He hadn’t spoken to Isaac since the night he left. They ignored each other at school as best as they could. And when they couldn’t, one or both of them would outright flee.
“Unless, of course, you haven’t figured it out yet,” pressed Stiles gently. “Do you have feelings for him?”
Scott had a difficult time sorting out his feelings for the young man. It ached to be near Isaac. It ached to be away from him. And a new feeling had crept in that he hadn’t associated with Isaac in a while. Anger. An anger he didn’t quite understand. He figured that he was angry at Isaac for complicating a situation that was fine the way it was. Great, even. They had been great friends. And now, now he didn’t know what they were.
“Can we just relax and not talk about any werewolf stuff for one night? Just for one night?” suggested Scott. “We can veg out and play some Halo, just like old times.”
“You realize you didn’t say no,” Stiles pointed out.
Scott glared at Stiles.
“Dude, he’s a part of all this too,” said Stiles. “Regardless of what’s going on between you two.”
“Then why don’t you just call him?” snapped Scott.
“I have,” insisted Stiles. “I’ve called him. I’ve texted him like ten times in the past hour. Nothing.”
“Then get a hold of Derek.”
“I did that too! He hasn’t texted me back,” said Stiles, holding up his phone in demonstration. “Oh, wait, he did. How the hell did I miss that?”
He opened up the text and read it. “Derek says Isaac is at Deaton’s.” He thought for a minute. “You know what we could do. We could go over there…”
“Stiles!” growled Scott.
Scott was at the end of his tether. The weight of responsibility had been hanging heavy on his shoulders more and more. The yet to be explained deaths. The attacks from the alpha pack. And the people most at risk from all the chaos were the people he cared about most in the world. They depended on him. He couldn’t afford to let them down. But he knew he was close to his breaking point. Adding one more thing to his already stressful burden would just make things worse. His feelings for Isaac, whatever they were, would have to wait.
“Please, Stiles. One night,” begged Scott, rubbing at the tightness in his chest.
“Okay, okay,” relented Stiles, concerned at seeing his best friend in such a state. “You get the snacks and I’ll fire up the system.”
Scott took some deep breaths to calm himself. “Thanks.”
“No problem, buddy,” said Stiles, patting Scott on the shoulder. “We’ll get through this.”
Stiles picked up the remote control to turn on the TV and Scott went to see what he could find in the junk food department. There wasn’t much to choose from as his mom hadn’t made it to the store yet that week. It didn’t matter. Scott would not get his one night.
“Scott!” barked Stiles in a weirdly panicked voice that Scott didn’t understand until he turned around and saw what was on the television. The local network was reporting on some breaking news, a fire had broken out at Beacon Hills Animal Clinic.
Scott’s heart stopped.
They both stood there staring at the horrific image on the screen. The whole building was engulfed in flames.
“While authorities refuse to speculate, materials near the building suggest the work of an arsonist,” said the reporter who was standing a good distance away from the fire.
Scott didn’t wait to hear anymore. He ran out the door, deaf to Stiles calling after him. He didn’t stop to get on his motorcycle, he just ran. Beyond caring for himself, he used every last reserve of his superhuman speed and still pushed to go faster. His heart was beating out of his chest and his lungs screamed for oxygen but his mind was only focused on one thing. Isaac.
He arrived at the scene in a ridiculously short amount of time that still seemed too long to Scott. A crowd had gathered to view the spectacle and Scott frantically made his way through them in search of Isaac. His senses couldn’t pick up anything beyond the acrid smell of smoke and combustion and something else that his brain refused to put a name to.
His eyes desperately raked back and forth seeking the tall, lanky teenager. He raced to a nearby ambulance and felt a small relief in seeing Dr. Deaton sitting in the back, covered in a blanket, and breathing oxygen. But where was Isaac? His panic swelled and, for the first time, he turned and looked into the destructive flames of the inferno and felt their heat, along with a deep and inconsolable grief. Please, please he silently prayed to whatever deity might be listening.
He stood there numb, for a minute, maybe longer, until he heard his name being called. It was said very softly but its familiarity cut through the din. Scott felt like he was moving in slow-motion as he turned his head to see Isaac standing at the edge of the crowd. His feet barely touched the ground as he rushed over and was suddenly in front of Isaac, grabbing him by the arms just to verify that he was real. An intense wave of relief shot through Scott until he noticed the look of devastation in Isaac’s red-rimmed eyes.
“Are you okay?” asked Scott in alarm.
Isaac swallowed before answering. “I couldn’t get all of them out,” Isaac said, voice breaking, eyes filling with tears. Scott looked at him in confusion. “I couldn’t get all of the animals out.”
Without hesitating, Scott pulled Isaac into his arms, his own eyes filling with tears, chest tightening with the emotions that overwhelmed him centered on the young man in his embrace. The feelings that had been so jumbled finally came into focus. He loved this boy. This funny, devoted, stupidly brave boy. He couldn’t imagine how he would’ve gone on had he lost Isaac. He silently prayed that he would never find out.
He wasn’t ready to think about why the fire was started, and by whom. More battles would come he was sure. But, for now, he savored in the knowledge that they were alive and they were together. That’s what was important. No matter what came their way, as long as Isaac was by his side, he was confident that they would prevail.
His hands sought for more purchase in the fabric of Isaac’s shirt, tugging him closer, trying to convey his feelings that had so far gone unspoken – I miss you. I need you. I love you. Don’t ever leave me again.
Isaac returned the embrace with equal measure.
Scott returned to his bedroom and stood for a moment to admire the vision before him. Isaac was asleep in his bed, lying on his front, hair tousled, mouth slightly open, the sheet riding low on his bare back. It was a gorgeous sight. There was only one thing he liked more than to watch Isaac sleep and that was to have Isaac awake.
He crawled up the bed and laid himself over the top of Isaac. Isaac sucked in a breath, waking to the feeling of Scott placing kisses on his neck and shoulders. He reached back for Scott and Scott took his hand and placed a kiss there as well.
Scott raised himself up a little so that Isaac was able to turn over onto his back. He then re-settled his weight over Isaac’s body, watching as Isaac breathed deeply and let his eyes shut again.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Scott said quietly. “How come you’re so tired?”
“Your fault,” mumbled Isaac. “You kept me up all night.”
Scott raised an eyebrow. “You’re complaining?”
“I’m not talking about that,” replied Isaac, his eyes slitted open. “I’m talking about your snoring.”
Scott’s mouth dropped open dramatically. “I do not snore.”
“You do snore, like a chainsaw,” insisted Isaac. “And, like everything else, you’re very good at it.”
Scott thought for a moment as an idea formulated in his mind.
“Well, then, maybe I can make it up to you with something else that I’m really good at,” Scott purred seductively.
The kiss began slowly, Isaac still only half awake. Isaac’s arms came to rest at Scott’s waist as Scott began an even slower grind of his hips. He smiled, reveling in the moan that escaped from Isaac. The kissed deepened, Isaac’s hands separating, one dragging up Scott’s spine, the other insinuating its way into the back of Scott’s boxers. Scott was just about to turn over and remove said boxers when, all of a sudden, they heard the garage door opening.
“What the hell?” swore Scott. “What’s she doing home so early?”
They both heard Melissa also cursing.
“Shit, my motorcycle,” said Scott as he jumped up and grabbed for his clothes.
“We didn’t clean the kitchen,” added Isaac, also reaching for his clothes. “And I’m not supposed to be in your room.”
“Stop listing all the things we did wrong and put on some clothes!” hissed Scott.
They both scrambled to pull on their clothes. Scott finished first. Taking his shoes with him, Scott opened his door to find his very disgruntled-looking mom standing there with her arms crossed.
“Hi, mom!” said Scott enthusiastically. “What are you doing home?”
“Everyone spontaneously healed so the hospital closed up early,” she replied sarcastically.
“Oh, cool,” said Scott, unsure how to respond to his mom under the circumstances.
She continued glaring at him.
“I’ll go move my bike right now,” rushed Scott. “Then I’ll put your car in the garage, we’ll clean the kitchen…”
“Good, and while you’re doing that, I’ll talk to Isaac about what he’s doing in your room.”
Scott was hopping on one foot, trying to put on his shoe when his mother pushed him out the door and slammed it.
Melissa and Isaac stared at each other in shock as they listened to the sound of Scott tumbling down the stairs.
“I just pushed my son down the stairs,” said Melissa, raising her hand to her mouth in horror. “Isaac, I just pushed my son down the stairs.”
“I know. It was impressive.”
Melissa hurriedly opened the door to find a very disgruntled-looking Scott standing there, holding a piece of the banister, broken for the second time.
“Oh my god, Scott, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him.
Scott hugged her back, dropping the piece of banister to the floor.
“I’m a horrible mother,” she said, close to tears.
“You’re not a horrible mother,” Scott reassured her. “You’re like the best mom ever. You just spend a little too much time around werewolves.”
They pulled back from the hug, Melissa wiping the tears from her eyes.
“We’ll go move the vehicles around and clean things up. Why don’t you relax,” said Scott.
“No, while you do that, I’ll cook breakfast, whatever you want,” she insisted, obviously feeling guilty.
“Anything?” asked Scott, looking at Isaac with a smile. “How about French toast with strawberries?”
Isaac cleared his throat.
“Oh, and whipped cream,” added Scott.
“We don’t have any strawberries,” said Melissa. “I’d have to run to the store.”
Scott looked at her with an exaggerated pout. “You pushed me down the stairs.”
Melissa’s mouth dropped open in horror again, tears immediately forming in her eyes.
“I’m okay, I’m okay!” said Scott, soothingly, hands to her shoulders. “But I would be even better if there were strawberries.”
“Fine, I’ll run to the store to get strawberries.”
“And whipped cream, don’t forget.”
“I just bought whipped cream last week. Where did that go?”
Scott’s mouth fell open, obviously searching for an explanation to give. Isaac suddenly found the rug rather fascinating.
Melissa blinked several times at the implication. “I’m just going to assume you two have been eating a lot of ice cream.”
“Ice cream. Yes. Exactly,” agreed Scott. “We’ve been eating lots of ice cream.”
The ‘lots’ had them all cringing.
“We’re still going to have a conversation about Isaac sleeping in your room,” said Melissa.
Scott’s shoulders dropped. “Aw, come on, mom. You were young once, right?” he asked beseechingly.
She looked between the two and sighed.
“You were young once, right?” chided Scott.
Her mouth fell open. “You are pushing it.”
“I’m just kidding! I’m just kidding!” said Scott, pulling her into another hug.
She pulled away and moved to the door. “Is there anything else you’d like from the store?”
“I’m good,” said Scott.
“Orange juice,” said Isaac. “We’re out of orange juice.”
She smiled at him fondly. “Okay, I’ll be back in a little bit.”
She left the room and they immediately turned to one another smiling softly. Scott gently grabbed Isaac’s face and stood up a little on his toes to give him a kiss, Isaac’s hands automatically finding his waist. They rested their foreheads against each other in contentment.
“I love your mom,” said Isaac.
“She loves you, too,” said Scott. “She and I have a lot in common.”
“What about the fact that she doesn’t want me sleeping in your room.”
“Yeah, we don’t really agree on that front,” admitted Scott. “We’ll just have to be sneakier. We are supernatural creatures after all. We should be able to pull it off.”
Scott leaned back in to suck at his bottom lip.
“Mmm,” groaned Isaac, pulling Scott closer. “How much time do we have until she gets back?”
“There’s always enough time,” Scott breathed into the kiss.
“I’m still here!” hollered Melissa.
Their eyes flew open in astonishment.
“How is she able to hear us?” asked Scott in amazement, reluctantly pulling away and heading for the door.
“Was she bitten recently?” said Isaac, following behind him.
(thanks for reading)