After everything settles down a bit, Scott begins to get the feeling that he should invite Isaac to start hanging out with him and Stiles. After all, Erica has Boyd, and Lydia has Jackson, and Derek is...well, Derek. A good enough guy and all, but not exactly best bro material. So, Isaac is left alone a lot, and Scott still feels bad when he remembers Isaac telling him he had no one to stick around for.
So yeah, Isaac should definitely have more friends, and not to brag, but he and Stiles are pretty much the most awesome friends to have, ever. He drags his feet about bringing it up to Stiles, though. Not that he thinks Stiles would be mean about it or anything, just, it's been Scott and Stiles for so long, it feels a little weird purposely inviting someone to join them. Not to mention Isaac has tried to kill Stiles a time or three, and Stiles has been known to nurse a grudge.
But when he mentions the idea of inviting Isaac to join their semi-regular, Stiles'-dad-is-working-nights, Call of War marathon, Stiles just shrugs and says “Okay, sure,” so Scott doesn't know if that means he thinks it's a good idea or if he's just going along to get along. With Stiles, it could be either.
When he asks Isaac about it, as they're all getting ready for lacrosse practice, Isaac rolls his eyes and grabs his stick.
“I'll think about it.” Which Scott takes to mean he'll be there, because as much as Isaac has settled down into himself, he still has problems actually allowing himself to show genuine enthusiasm over things, like he somehow thinks it will open him up for ridicule.
And that's how it happens that, two days later, Scott and Stiles are a good hour or two deep into a mission, when there's an aggressive knock on Stiles' door. Scott has just been killed and is waiting to regenerate, and Stiles doesn't bother pausing the game or looking away from the screen, just jerks his head toward the door.
“Can you grab it?”
Scott's not sure it's a good sign that Stiles doesn't care enough about Isaac's presence to go through his usual “Welcome to Chateau Stilinski, can I get your coat?” ritual, but he shoves off the couch and goes to open the door. Isaac is lounging against the porch railing, doing his best James Dean, but he grins when he sees Scott.
“Hey, man, come on in.”
He steps back so Isaac can squeeze past him, and opens his mouth to point out important locations, like bathrooms and coat closets and whatever. But Isaac is already shedding his jacket and throwing it on the arm chair with Stiles' hoodie and Scott's pullover, toeing off his shoes, and winding his way past the couch and into the kitchen.
In the meantime, Stiles has managed to get himself killed and is restarting the game and digging around in the entertainment center for a third controller. Just as Scott hears the refrigerator open, Stiles hollers, “Coke!” and a second later a can soft lobs across the room. Stiles catches it two handed, sets it on the table and goes back to tinkering with the console.
A whistling sound is the only warning Scott has before another can comes rocketing toward his head, and he has to twist and jump to catch it before impact. He's still trying to process, when Isaac comes strolling out of the kitchen, carrying a bag of chips, a jar of dip, and a Sprite, and flops on the couch next to Stiles. He's noisily shoving a handful into his mouth when Stiles raises an eyebrow at Scott.
“Dude. You comin'?”
Scott pops the top on his coke and takes a swig. He thinks he's put two and two together. “How often do you guys hang out?”
Isaac shrugs. “Couple times a week?”
“Since when?” He's not proud of the way his voice rises shrilly on the last word.
“Uhhh...” Stiles tilts his head and considers. “Right after the rave maybe?” He looks to Isaac for confirmation and Isaac nods thoughtfully.
“When were you going to tell me?!” All this time he's been worried Stiles is going to get pissy over this, and there has been friending going on, right behind his back.
Both Isaac and Stiles' heads snap around to stare at him, and then Stiles breaks into a wide grin. “Aw, Scotty! Are you jealous?” He makes a kissy face and smacks his lips. “Don't worry, you're still my number one make out partner.” Then he waggles his eyebrows and leers at Isaac. “Although, I don't know, Isaac is awfully pretty. What do you say? Should we try it out?”
He lunges into Isaac's space and they playfully shove at each other for a few seconds before Isaac pushes him off. But Scott doesn't miss the fact that Isaac ducks his head and his ears turn red. Huh.
“Seriously, Scott, you make secret deals with creepy ass grandpas and you're gonna get upset I forgot to keep you up to speed on every play date I have? Not to mention...dude...you're busy five nights out of seven actually getting some action from your real, live girlfriend. Now, get your butt over here so we can show Isaac how this game is really played.”
Stiles, as usual, has a point, which is one of the many reasons he's an awesome best friend, and it's not like this isn't kind of the way Scott was hoping this whole meet and greet would go, even if he'd thought he'd be on the other end of it. So, yeah, he's not going to get offended over nothing. He vaults over the back of the couch and elbows Isaac until he gives him enough room.
“Alright, bitches. I'm gonna kick both your asses.”
And it turns out he's right – the three of them get along really well together. It takes Isaac about half an hour to totally relax, but then he's whooping and shit talking and generally making a mess of things right along with them. At some point Stiles gets hyped up enough that he gives his rarely seen Spice Girls performance, while Isaac and Scott roll around in gales of laughter, and then Isaac gives the best freaking impression of Derek Scott has ever seen. They break over pizza and illegally procured beer, and Scott tells Isaac about the time Jackson thought Scott was taking steroids and Scott thought he was talking about fruit juice.
Isaac snorts. “Jesus, you are so lame.” But he's laughing when he says it and there's no sting behind the words. It's good, and it's normal, and he thinks smiles look far more natural on Isaac's face than sneers.
By the time their eyes are blurry enough that they can't force themselves to play even one more round, Scott is too tired to drive home. That's pretty usual on nights like these; the only difference is that instead of two pairs of feet tromping up Stiles' stairs, there's three, and instead of just Scott and Stiles trying to cram themselves into Stiles' bed, it's Scott and Stiles and Isaac trying to find some sort of arrangement that doesn't cause one of them to roll off in the middle of the night.
When morning comes, and Mr. Stilinski cracks the door to check on them, Scott is the only one that wakes up. Stiles' face is smooshed into his back, and Isaac has somehow wound up so that his head and one arm and leg are hanging off the bed, while the other leg is flung over both Scott and Stiles'. He's snoring.
Mr. Stilinski is obviously trying to stifle a laugh, and when he sees that Scott's awake, he mouths breakfast ?
Obviously a rhetorical question, because there's no way Scott – or Stiles (and probably Isaac) for that matter – is turning down ready made food, but he nods anyway. Mr. Stilinski disappears the way he came, and Scott contemplates the easiest way to get untangled from the other two boys.
In the end it's only logical. He shoves Isaac and Stiles off the bed. After all, what are friends for?