Stiles may have started this thing on accident. He hadn’t really meant to but Jackson had looked so upset and well he would only admit that he didn’t only find Lydia hot when there had still been the popular couple in the school. He may have hugged Jackson, but only a little, like for a second.
Thankfully no one had been around, or at least no one looked like they were in the restroom with Jackson.
Jackson didn’t do anything, just stood there staring into the mirror, and looking far too pale.
Stiles debated on saying something, maybe something to cheer him up. He looked up, ready to babble and go on about anything he could come up with and then he noticed the black gunk and started cleaning Jackson up.
Jackson sometimes came over after practice now, not often, and definitely not when Scott was nearby, but sometimes.
Stiles wouldn’t say anything until they reached his jeep, and if their hands occasionally brushed; it was just an accident.
The first time had been the worst; Stiles had fidgeted and stared at Jackson. He wondered for a second if there was something wrong, maybe Jackson was angry for that last time he was on the field. Or helping Lydia in the library last week; which wasn’t Stiles fault, because Lydia had actually come up to him for help. Okay, so maybe she had demanded and questioned, but it was legitimate.
Jackson had finally glared and said, “If you say one word Stilinski.”
Stiles waved his hands and shook his head, “No, no-nothing, there’s nothing to say.”
“Good, your house or mine?”
Stiles flushed, “Wa-what?” This conversation wasn’t exactly going the way Stiles had thought it would.
Jackson growled, literally, he growled, “Your house or mine.”
“My-my house.” Stiles had spent so much time worrying through the five minute drive if Jackson was hitting on him, and if he should take one of the condoms his dad always put in the bathroom; as if Stiles had sex every weekend, Thanks Dad.
So, it was almost hilarious how much he had worried to only see that, once they entered Stiles’ house, all Jackson did was awkwardly stand there and wait.
It took a few seconds for it to click, and then Stiles gently dragged Jackson to the couch and hugged him for an hour, staring at nothing and inhaling Jackson’s cologne.
Jackson fell asleep thirty minutes later, but Stiles didn’t let go.
Stiles would drive them to his house, his dad never came home before nine most of the time but after Peter’s death and Isaac, he spent even more time at the station.
This time was different though.
Jackson paused the movie and leaned into Stiles.
Stiles frowned, and turned his head to look at Jackson; he had very pretty eyes.
Jackson pressed his lips against Stiles, and they were flushed together in an awkward position but it was far too good to move just yet.
Stiles kissed back and wasn’t sure when this had become more than comfort, but he would hold on tight.