Scott drops the bouquet of roses he got at the gas station into the vase on the center of the table. They still smell a bit of diesel and oil, but they’re pretty nevertheless for $9.99 flowers sold out of a bucket next to a display of Cheetoes.
He takes a deep breath, looking around the room. Everything’s spotless and in order.
He cut out of his last period class and lacrosse practice to come home early and clean. He washed all the dishes, mopped the kitchen floor, dusted, vacuumed everywhere, and finally straightened up his room like his mother’s been asking him to do for months now. He even washed his bedsheets and scrubbed the bathroom from top to bottom.
His abuela gave his mother a set of beautiful dishes when she and his dad got married. He hand washed every piece carefully, drying them with a paper towel, and set them out on the table atop the nice tablecloth Stiles let him borrow.
His mother has a set of crystal candle holders (another wedding present) that he sits on opposite sides of the flower vase. Scott goes back into the kitchen and grabs a box of matches from a drawer then returns to the dining room. He lights the candles.
He dims the lights in the room and smiles. The candles bring a nice touch to the ambiance he’s creating: soft and romantic.
Stiles let him borrow a set of wine glasses, too, and bought Scott a bottle of Merlot with his fake ID. Scott grabs it off the buffet, resting it on the table near the head seat—
A noise. Upstairs. Making Scott’s eyes turn gold and claws snap out. He hurries toward the steps, stopping on the second one, honing in on what sounds like a familiar heartbeat...
Isaac. Trotting down the steps casually.
“You can use the front door. You were supposed to use the front door,” Scott says, sounding disappointed.
Isaac shrugs, not picking up on Scott’s tone. “Not really used to coming over that way.”
Scott rolls his eyes dramatically.
“Wait. You’re really upset I came through the window. Why…?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Scott says with a pout.
“We’re werewolves. We can’t exactly lie to each other.” Isaac’s eyes look Scott up and down. He’s wearing a white, button-down dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a skinny, black tie, new, dark blue jeans and black dress shoes that look as though they’ve only been broken in twice. Under Scott’s feet is a sprinkle of rose petals that lead upstairs.
That Isaac has trampled on unnoticed until now.
His eyes draw back to Scott who suddenly looks shy and embarrassed. Isaac steps into the dining room when the glow of candlelight catches his attention.
“…Happy Valentine’s Day,” Scott says.
Isaac swings around, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, at the other werewolf.
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Scott tells him.
“It is. Why would you do this?”
Scott shrugs, shaking his head a bit, not understanding the question. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my boyfriend and its Valentine’s Day.”
“I’m what? Who?”
“Look, I had to do it this way because you never let me do anything nice for you and it drives me crazy. I mean, I know I can’t afford to do really crazy stuff but I still want to try and make things nice, but even then you get all weird and…cagey, and then you start putting this distance between us and it sucks. I know it makes you uncomfortable, but… God, Isaac I just want to do stuff for you. Like all the time.”
Isaac looks scared, like a lost, confused puppy. “…Why?”
Scott nearly takes a step back, feeling very affronted. “What kind of question is that? I want to do stuff for you and make you happy because I love you.”
Isaac snickers. “No, you don’t.”
Scott can’t believe the grin on Isaac’s face and the sad laughter in his tone…almost. He takes Isaac’s hand in his, leading him into the dining room. He pulls out the chair to his left and directs Isaac into it.
“Stay. Don’t leave,” Scott tells him.
Isaac opens his mouth to protest, but nods instead at the nervous anticipation seeping from Scott. He’ll stay.
Scott smiles and goes into the kitchen. He opens the oven and pulls out a casserole dish (werewolf; no oven mitts needed) then returns to Isaac in the dining room. He sets the dish down between their plates.
Scott notices Isaac can’t help the smile that grows on his face as he stares at it. “What’s this?”
“Chiles en nogada,” he says in perfect Spanish. “It’s my favorite. My mom makes it for me whenever I’m sick or in a bad mood. I wanted to make it for you.”
“I didn’t know you could cook,” Isaac says, his heartbeat pattering in his chest.
“I can’t. This is the only thing I know how to make.” Scott sits down adjacent to Isaac at the head of the table.
“I don’t know exactly why you get all strange when things get…intimate with us, but I might, sort of, understand. And it’s okay to be scared of that type of stuff, but just…just try. With me. Tonight. Please.”
Scott gives his best sad face and Isaac rolls his eyes.
“You’re lucky I’m hungry and this smells amazing,” Isaac concedes, unfolding his napkin and placing it on his lap.
Scott gives a goofy grin that radiates his happiness. He places a serving of food on Isaac’s plate then his own, then pours them both a glass of wine as well.
Scott waits anxiously as Isaac slowly cuts into food, slowly bringing a bite to his mouth, slowly chewing it… He’s clearly doing it on purpose and Scott’s a nanosecond away from calling this whole dinner off.
“It’s amazing, Scott. Eat,” Isaac says, finally putting Scott out of his misery.
Scott turns red as he cuts into his own food.
“…There’s three settings at this table,” Isaac notices, eyes on his plate as he stabs at a pomegranate seed.
“But the two of us are here now, and that’s all that matters.”
Isaac smirks at his plate again, cheeks turning pink.
“How’s living with Derek,” Scott asks.
“You don’t have to ask about Derek. I know you still don’t like him all that much.”
“He’s…growing on me.”
Isaac laughs. “I know he can seem hard as stone, but when you’ve been through what he’s been through, it’s beyond understandable. He’s not grumpy, or even angry. He’s…sad. And scared a lot. Kate really fucked him up.”
“You think Derek’s scared a lot?”
“Well, yeah,” Isaac shrugs. “You don’t see that?”
“I guess I never really paid much attention. I mean, I get all that, but I just—”
“Didn’t really care until Stiles cared?”
Scott looks embarrassed. “…Yeah. I guess.”
“You care now, right? That’s good enough. Or getting there.”
Scott feels a little lighter. Better, with Isaac’s understanding. He nods. “Yeah.”
“See? I can do intimate,” Isaac says with a wink. Scott chuckles wryly. “Speaking of intimate, did Stiles text you, too?”
“About his sex marathon with Derek? Ew. Yes. He told me to stay away from Derek’s because they were ‘going to be boning 24 hours straight’. Stiles gives way too much information sometimes… A lot of the time really.”
Isaac laughs. “He kicked us all out of the pack house this morning. I have no idea where Erica and Boyd went.”
“Where’ve you been since school then?”
Isaac shrugs. “The park. The library. I went to the coffeeshop on 1st street for awhile and listened to this stoner with dreads recite an Allen Ginsberg poem to a handful of people on their laptops.”
Isaac’s a lot different from Scott. At least his interests are. He likes foreign arthouse movies, reads James Joyce, speaks fluent French with the old woman who owns the antique shop in town, and can talk for hours about how his wolf is connected to the moon and nature.
Ordinarily, Scott would feel behind, slow for not knowing half the things Isaac does, or what he means when he quotes Nietzsche or talk about surrealistic art forms, but for some reason being around Isaac makes him understand. He gets it with him, and can see what he sees.
Isaac doesn’t make him feel dumb. And admittedly for a guy like Scott, who’s usually a bit slow on the uptake, being equal to someone smart makes him feel worthy.
“Did he read your favorite poem? The one you read to me,” Scott asks.
“No. Thank God.”
Scott saw the Pablo Neruda book on Isaac’s nightstand. It was worn and faded, with Isaac’s small scribble throughout it. on page was dog-eared and Scott asked about it while lying naked beside him in bed. Isaac took the book and read the poem to him. Once in English, and then a second time in Spanish.
Scott had never been a fan of poetry, but that night had him rapidly considering changing his opinion.
“Tell me about your mom,” Scott says, a soft, easy tone in his caring voice.
“Yeah. If you want. I know with Stiles it’s hard to talk about, so you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I just wanted to know about her.”
Isaac draws quiet, mouth opening and closing slowly before his eyes find a fixed point on the mahogany table. But then a fond slowly grows on his face. “She used to do stand up in college.”
“I swear. I saw old VHS tapes of her act. She even did it a few times when I was young. She could always make us laugh. Even my dad. Especially my dad. She was like a rainbow; colorful and glittery, hovering over everything that’s dark with her big, bright presence. She was fun.”
“She sounds like it,” Scott says, fascinated with finally knowing something about Isaac’s mother. He never mentions her. Or Camden. Strangely, he does talk about his dad every now and then. Just small mentions of what a complete dick he was and how he’s glad to be free of him. Sometimes he’d make dark jokes regarding the man and Scott would lean in a little closer to Isaac, trying to sniff out his emotions, or hear his heartbeat, and it was always the same smell of relief and steady tick. Isaac really was glad the man was dead and gone.
Scott is, too. No one should be treated the way Isaac was. No one should have to have lived that way, abused by the very person that’s supposed to protect them. Scott understood Mr. Lahey’s grief at the loss of his wife and eldest son, but taking it out on Isaac they way he did… The sheriff was just as heartbroken, if not more, when Claudia died, but he never laid a finger on Stiles.
No, Mr. Lahey was despicable. And Scott is fine with Isaac being fine he’s dead. He’s fine with him being dead, too.
“She wanted to be on Saturday Night Live,” Isaac continues. “She was trying to book her audition when she found out she was pregnant with my brother, so it never happened, but I don’t think it really bothered her. It wasn’t like we killed her dream. She was… She seemed really happy being our mom.”
“I bet she was.” Scott squeezes Isaac’s hand affectionately. Isaac’s eyes peer down at their linked hands with his cerulean eyes. Scott loves his eyes. They’re like clear, blue pools of tropical water. He loves Isaac’s mouth, too. It’s ruby, like he’s been eating pomegranates, puffy and wide. And when they kiss their mouths slot together perfectly, deep and consuming.
Isaac twists their hands, entwining their fingers. “You said I was your boyfriend…”
“Aren’t you,” Scott asks, hopeful.
“I didn’t know you thought about me like that. Like all this,” he says motioning at their romantic dinner with his free hand. “I thought I was just…”
Scott leans forward, pressing his mouth to Isaac’s, stealing his breath.
Isaac’s eyes burn gold as their lips break apart. Scott’s are just as bright.
He grabs Isaac’s wrist, pulling him from the table and toward the stairs in a hurry. Isaac follows willingly up the steps.
Scott pushes through his bedroom door—
“You two plan on having fun without me?”
Allison. In Scott’s bed, under the sheets with a smile, and surrounded by the warm glow of a dozen candles around the room.
“Didn’t know if you were coming,” Scott smiles bashfully.
“Of course I was. It’s our first Valentine’s Day together,” she says. She draws the sheets back, sweeping her legs to the carpeted floor, and approaches Isaac wearing a sexy, red negligee that flows nicely on her body; the hem right at the curve of her buttocks.
“Is that okay, Isaac,” she says with a kittenish smile.
“Yeah. It’s fine, Allison,” he says, mouth dry, and smelling of fresh mint. Scott laces their fingers and squeezes Isaac’s hand. The curly-haired wolf’s eyes stay trained on Allison…and her…outfit.
“I know sometimes you and Scott like to spend time alone together, just like you and I spend time together, but today I think it should be the three of us. We haven’t done that in a while,” she says.
“It’s been 2 weeks, 6 days, and 17 minutes since it was all three of us,” Scott chimes in. Isaac and Allison giggle at him. “…But who’s counting,” Scott blushes.
Allison pulls Scott close, her hand in his hair, and kisses him. He still keeps hold of Isaac’s hand.
Allison breaks their kiss, and lifts up on her toes to reach Isaac’s mouth, carding her hands through his hair now.
“What do you want, Isaac? Tell me. Tell us,” she asks with her arms wrapped around his neck.
Isaac glances at a waiting Scott, and then back at an excited Allison. The tips of his ears glow pink and his cheeks flush.
“You suddenly shy now? You never had a problem with telling us what you wanted before…” she teases.
“…It’s…different now,” he says. Scott can smell his nervousness. Derek’s right, it does smell like lemons.
“Different good? Or different bad,” Scott asks.
“I don’t know. Is there an in between?”
Allison rolls her eyes. “Isaac. Talk to us.”
Isaac glances at Scott who tilts his head like a curious puppy, waiting for a response.
“…I want this. With both of you.”
“And we’re offering it,” Allison reminds, kissing his neck.
“I just didn’t think you wanted it, too. I thought we had…an arrangement.”
“Who knew you were this unsure of yourself,” Allison says, teasing again.
“I do self-deprecating well.”
“Scott. You want to talk some sense into our boyfriend please,” Allison asks.
Scott grabs Isaac and kisses him. A hungry, starving kiss full of panting and lewd moans. They fall into Scott’s door, slamming it shit with Isaac’s back as Scott pulls off Isaac’s cardigan and Isaac rips off Scott’s tie.
Allison flounces on the bed watching them with a impish grin.
Scott licks into Isaac’s mouth making him growl. His clawed hands are balled into Isaac’s T-shirt, still pressing him hard against the door.
Isaac slides his thigh between Scott’s legs. Scott grinds down on it, nipping at Isaac’s bottom lip.
“God, I miss watching you two,” Allison interrupts.
Isaac’s attention falls to her sliding her tiny, red lace panties off her ankle. He leans into Scott’s ear: “I want you to fuck me, while she rides my face.”
Scott practically roars, tossing Isaac on the bed beside Allison. She backs up while Isaac twists comfortably on the bed.
Scott stalks onto it between his legs, tearing away his own clothes. Isaac kicks off his shoes and drags his shirt over his head. Scott’s already make short work of his jeans by the time Isaac throws it onto the floor.
Allison leans over to Scott’s nightstand and grabs a bottle of lube and a condom from the top drawer. “I know you two are werewolves, so disease-free, but since finding out Stiles can get pregnant I don’t think we should take any chances.”
“We use condoms when we’re not with you, Allison,” Isaac informs the huntress. Scott nods in agreement.
“Good to know,” she smirks.
“Prep him,” Scott tells her. He can’t. Claws. And too turned on at the moment to control himself enough into calming down. Isaac’s way better at control than he is. Particularly during sex.
“Gladly.” Allison tears open the condom wrapper and rolls it onto Scott’s erect cock, then opens the cap off the lube and squeezes a few drops onto her index and middle finger. She drops the tube by her knees. “How we doing this?”
“Scott come here,” Isaac stresses.
Scott and Isaac change positions. Scott sits up against the headboard. Isaac trails down his chest and abs with his tongue until he reaches Scott’s cock and takes it into his mouth. Isaac lies flat on his stomach, gliding up and down Scott’s shaft with his mouth.
Allison settles amid his legs, pushing them apart with her knees, and dips her wet fingers between his pale cheeks.
Isaac moans around Scott’s cock with Allison’s fingers gradually breaching him. The vibration from his full mouth feels good on Scott’s sensitive dick. Scott growls low in his throat, and tightens his clawed hand in Isaac’s hair.
This isn’t Allison’s first rodeo. She’s been digits deep in a boy before. Grant it said boys prior were both Scott and Isaac, but still, she’s not a strange man in a strange land. Scott likes his prostate stimulated when she gives him head, and the only reason he started letting her do that was because she told him how much Isaac liked it.
She likes that about their little threesome. She never has to worry about them being jealous of the other, or has to keep secrets about the other. Scott’s never in competition with Isaac (surprisingly), and Isaac’s never off-put by the established relationship she and Scott already had. Though she has to admit she was a little taken aback to discover Isaac’s insecurities lay elsewhere, with himself.
It was cool and sexy and exciting when it was the three of them fooling around, either all together, or in pairs, but then feelings got involved and Isaac started backing off.
Scott would try to hold Isaac’s hand in public, or Allison would wait for him after class, or lacrosse, or a pack meeting and he’d clam up, chuckling nervously at some stupid joke he made, and then suddenly disappear. She and Scott would be left standing there, worried and scared that they did something wrong.
Allison doesn’t sell herself fairytales about how or why they three of them really came to be in their poly-relationship. It was all Scott and Isaac.
Isaac would flirt and smile at her occasionally, but it was Scott who he blushed for and suddenly became shy around. She noticed Scott turning just as pink whenever they managed to catch each other’s eye. She couldn’t help but to take notice of the little touches, hushed whispers, and panicky phone calls between Scott and Stiles late at night when he thought she was asleep.
“Does it bother you,” Lydia asked.
Lydia shrugged. “Then see if three’s a crowd.”
She did. And has been nothing but blissful for the last 8 months.
But still. Isaac… Isaac who had no clue she and Scott wanted more, to be more, with him. Who thought they “were just having fun.” Isaac who’s afraid of good things, nice things, because, well, nice things don’t last long in his world.
His mom. His brother. His safety within the world of werewolves and kanimas.
Derek may think he doesn’t deserve nice things, but Isaac doesn’t think nice things stick around long. To him anyway. Hence his apprehension to making their trio official, public and all. What god would it do to be that happy, only to have it ripped away from him eventually? It’s safer, simpler, for Isaac to live his life unattached, except to his pack. Derek, Stiles, Erica, and Boyd are his only constants. Everything else is just a temporary bout of fun, a good time, because getting attached would cause more harm than good.
But then Scott suggests a nice dinner. For Valentine’s Day. To really show their boy what he means to them. That he’s more than just a good time. That they care about him.
They love him.
They’re in love with him.
Isaac pulls off Scott’s dick, mouth and chin wet, covered with saliva as he groans into the other wolf’s thigh when Allison curls her fingers, rubbing against that special spot.
“You’re going to make me come,” he says, voice hoarse, almost in a growl.
“Would that be so bad,” Allison purrs with a raised eyebrow, and curls her fingers against Isaac’s prostate again.
“Allison…” Scott pants.
She loves how in tune he and Isaac are. What turns one of them on, definitely turns the other one on just as much. She thinks it might be the chemosignals; that they can smell each other’s arousal. And hear each other’s heartbeat.
Allison drags her fingers from Isaac. She leans forward, pressing them to Scott’s mouth. He opens and sucks them clean.
She dips her head, kissing Isaac as her fingers fall from Scott’s lips.
In a flash, Isaac twists around, lying on his back. Allison straddling his hips. Scott slides out from behind Isaac and to slip behind Allison now.
He kisses her neck, nibbling, biting playfully with sharp fangs and a warm tongue. His hands find her breasts while he sucks a hickey onto her pulsepoint.
Isaac’s thumb makes tiny circles on her clit. She’s already wet. Has been since Scott threw Isaac against the door and kissed him.
God, she loves these boys…
They’re fucking beautiful. The both of them. And they want him. Isaac. To be theirs. They want the three of them to be together. Officially.
He should run.
He really should. He should bolt right now and head back home, lock himself in his room, and never come out. He can finish high school at home. Homeschooling. Or he’ll just get his GED online or something.
…No. He can’t. Derek will kill him. And Stiles will really fucking kill him.
Stiles nearly lopped Erica’s head off when she announced she wanted to drop out three months ago. Stiles may be human, but he is scary as all hell. Isaac can still see his face when she said that while painting her nails, like it was nothing… Erica’s still in school. With a tutor for nearly every class and a plan to graduate with at least a C average.
Stiles takes his role as pack mom very seriously.
So dropping out and hiding in his room is a nixed.
But not just for that reason. There’s also a Stiles & Derek sex marathon currently taking place there.
If Stiles is insane about grade point averages and diplomas, Isaac can’t imagine how pissed he’d be over interrupting he and Derek going at it.
And then there’s also this. This, right here, happening now. He’d never be so tacky as to call it a threesome, because, well, it’s beyond that. It’s grown beyond that for him for awhile now. At least it had, bottled up inside him.
For all three of them apparently.
He shouldn’t be so surprised. He started, making moon eyes at Scott from across the room, whispering secret, stupid jokes to one another, seeking him out in the middle of the night to talk; usually about how scared they are being mixed up within the world of supernatural beings, and how nice it is to connect with someone that understands that. Even if Scott missed the normalcy of the before, and Isaac for the life of him didn’t, but he nonetheless, got why Scott felt that way. And in turn Scott got him.
He never thought Allison would notice. Let alone agree to share Scott with her. And just in a few short weeks he fell for her, too.
It’s been scary as hell. Loving one person seems terrifying enough, but two?
When Derek bit him, turned him into a werewolf, Isaac promised himself a no strings attached life. He promised he’d enjoy being this new thing that he is and have fun. Pack was all the closeness he needed, he thought, and only a year into being turned has he completely dismantled his own motto by falling for some puppy-faced boy with a crooked jaw and his badass, Disney princess girlfriend.
“You still with us, buddy,” Allison asks, always a playful smirk on her face.
“…I love you. Both of you.”
Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that. Why did he say that?
“We love you, too,” Scott smiles.
“Definitely. But I’d love you both even more if we finish what’s been started,” Allison smiles, breath caught in a pant.
Isaac grabs her hips, encouraging her to move up his body. She knee-crawls the short distance to hover over him. Isaac wraps his arms around her thighs and gently sits her on his face.
She whimpers at the first, long lick on Isaac’s tongue from her entrance to her clit. Isaac holds her steady by legs.
He can feel Scott pushing his knees apart and settling between them and he continues licking Allison’s pussy.
Her whimpers grow louder as she trembles atop of him.
He flattens his tongue between her folds and rubs it along the sensitive skin there as Scott slides into him smoothly. He feels her lean backward and hears she and Scott kiss before her weigh is heavy on his mouth again.
Scott’s usually patient, caring. He likes to make love more than fuck. At least lately, when they’re alone, but when it’s the three of them together… Scott pushes in deep and hard leaving Isaac to moan against Allison’s wet pussy. She shutters, falling forward a bit, gripping the headboard.
Isaac lets go of her thighs, gliding his hands up her body and tearing her nightie down the middle, exposing her breasts to the thick, warm air in the room.
Scott keeps a steady pace, rocking firm and fast into Isaac, as the blonde wolf fondles their girlfriend’s bare breasts, pinching her nipples lightly.
Allison grinds back and forth slowly onto Isaac’s mouth.
He closes his mouth shut onto her clit, sucking gently on the sensitive button. Allison’s grip on the headboard tightens as she throws her head back moaning loudly. Isaac holds her down, steady, by her waist keeping her on his lips.
Scott drags in and out of Isaac voraciously now, growling and snarling, pumping into him. His clawed hand carefully wraps around Isaac’s cock, twisting up and down the long, pink shaft.
Allison’s thighs tighten at Isaac’s head.
Isaac is growl-groaning, mouth wetter and wetter from Scott’s ministrations and the sweet, pineapple taste of Allison on his tongue, when she stills, grabbing so hard onto the wooden furniture it creaks. Her head is bent down as she spasms, screaming into loud, broken sobs of ecstasy for all of Beacon Hills to hear as her orgasm rips through her.
She falls from Isaac’s face, slumping to the wall Scott’s bed is propped up against, in tears, out of breath, and tingling, too sensitive everywhere for touch.
Isaac’s nose, upper lip, mouth, and chin and neck are wet. His tongue darts out, still tasting her there. Scott grabs the back of his head, yanking his hair, and licks at his mouth.
Scott pulls back and slams into him desperately.
Isaac closes his eyes, feeling every dirty drag of Scott’s dick press in and out of him impatiently.
His toes curl and eyes shoot open at something hot, and wet, on his cock.
Allison’s mouth. She slides up and down his dick as Scott keeps working him over.
It’s too much.
They’re too much.
Isaac’s eyes light like a traffic signal. His fangs protrude and claws tear into Scott’s sheets. He comes with a roar inside Allison’s mouth.
Scott grabs her neck, tugging her off Isaac’s cock, and kisses her hungrily, before she can swallow.
Scott pulls out of Isaac. Allison takes the condom off and jerks his cock.
Long, white ropes of cum paint Isaac’s stomach as Scott growls out something unintelligible; his wolf taking over to the very end.
Scott smooths three fingers through the cum on Isaac’s hot, sweaty skin. He wipes it onto Allison’s neck, and then rubs a mucky hand deep into Isaac’s stomach.
Scott kisses Allison, soft and slow, then leans down to kiss Isaac just the same.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispers at Isaac’s lips.
Isaac smiles as Scott pulls away and Allison bends down to kiss him, too.
Allison climbs off the bed. Scott collapses beside his boyfriend with an arm draped over his chest.
“And just what do you two think you’re doing,” she asks.
“Exhausted,” Isaac tells her.
“Tired,” Scott replies.
“Are you telling me I have more stamina than two werewolves?”
“5 minutes,” they say.
“Fine. Guess I’ll just shower by myself.” She shimmies out of what’s left of her nightie that Isaac’s destroyed, and walks out of the room to the bathroom down the hall.
“She’s going to be pissed if we don’t follow her,” Scott says, on his way quickly to sleep.
“We’ll never hear the end of it.”
Scott laughs. “Nope.”
“Then we’re getting up?”
“Yup. We’re getting up…in 5 minutes.”
“5 minutes sounds good.”
The room is still and quiet, but warm and smells of sex and sweat.
Isaac likes it; their scents mixed in and indistinguishable from one another.
He hears the shower turn on down the hall. They really will never hear the end of it if they don’t get up.
“You’re happy,” Scott says.
“Your heartbeat,” Scott says. Isaac hadn’t even noticed Scott snuggle up to him with an ear against his chest. “And your scent. Your scent smells nice.”
“You can smell it over all the other stuff?”
“It’s all I smell.”
Isaac takes Scott’s hand and laces their fingers. “Are you going to hold my hand and walk me to class?” He tries to sound like he’s joking, mocking the whole thing, but he knows Scott can hear the honesty in his heartbeat, and hear the anxiety in his voice.
Scott lifts his head with a serious look pointed at the other wolf. “Of course,” he says, like not doing so would be preposterous.
Scott’s face cracks into the widest smile.
“But I’ll never let you ride my motorcycle.”
Cue the sad, Beagle eyes. “Oh, come on. I already have a dirt bike and it’s practically the same thing!”
“It’s not, and you saying so is further proof you’re not skilled enough to ride it,” Isaac chuckles.
“Allison at least let’s me shoot her bow and arrow sometimes.”
“Yeah, she told me how you shot yourself in the foot. Stiles has pictures on his phone.”
“He promised he’d delete those!”
“Derek thought it was pretty funny, too.”
“Stiles showed Derek?! There’s no such thing as a secret with Stiles anymore!”
Isaac shrugs. “They’re Alphas, and practically married so...”
“Still. So many bro code violations on Stiles’ part… We’ll share stuff, too, right? Secrets and inside jokes?”
“We already do.”
“But we’ll keep doing it, right? Being close? All three of us,” Scott asks, looking nervous.
Isaac kisses Scott’s hand and slides off the bed. “Not if we keep a certain huntress waiting.”
A corner of Scott’s mouth turns up into a smile. His best smile Isaac thinks. Scott gets to his feet, pulling Isaac in for a kiss.
“Good first Valentine’s Day,” Scott asks.
“’My heart moves from cold to fire’,” Isaac answers.
“Do I get more love poems in the future?”
Isaac smiles and kisses Scott. He rubs his cheek against the other wolf’s and leans into his ear: “You get whatever you want. The both of you.”
Maybe nice things do happen. Maybe they stick around longer than we’d expect them to. And maybe they don’t. Isaac doesn’t know. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a chance.
Just this once.
Just this time.
Pablo Neruda would.