#2017-07-11

So... this was supposed to be brightness, not bright, but damn, the people who compiled the prompt table I’m using have a weird hard-on for shiny/ing things (glimmer, glitter, glisten...). I just couldn’t, not so soon. Also... I couldn’t ignore the look on Scott’s face in this set of gifs and I just had to. My apologies to the McCall lovers out there. 

“Okay, due. Spill. Derek says you stink like someone spat in your jello.” Stiles sits on his father’s sofa, and it feels good. It doesn’t feel like it’s his own sofa anymore, but it’s a home away from home, and he’s glad to have one.

He’ll be even more glad to have an explanation from the guy who, despite their ups and down, has always been his brother. Scott looks like someone made a very unpleasant smelling suggestion. He’s had the look on his face for the last hour or so. Derek decided to make himself scarce by going to pick up dinner for them, which leaves Stiles with approximately twenty minutes to pry the problem out of Scott’s brain.

“You wouldn’t be happy if I’d kept a secret like this from you.” Scott’s on the other end of the sofa. It’s where he should be, even if he’d look more right with some kind of game controller in his hand. He’s staring at Stiles, though, instead of at the television screen or a textbook or at his phone.

It’s strange having some kind of heart to heart in the living room, but Stiles is nothing if not flexible.

“You’re that pissed at me for not letting you know we were coming?” Things must be dire if that’s the case. Scott’s always dug surprises. “I thought you’d be happy to see us. We want to help. You know we can. I mean, even Dad’s glad we’re here. Like, he didn’t even hint at putting Derek in the spare bedroom.”

Scott squeezes his eyes together a little and his cheeks pull up high beneath them. “No, man. I mean. It’s good to see you and all and it means things are definitely looking up, but,” he actually waves his hand in front of his face, “you could have warned me that you stink like you’ve been marinating in Hale for months.”

And now, if there’s anyone going to be surprised, here, it’s Stiles. “What? Dude. I told you minutes after the first time I ran into him. I sent you texts while I was freaking out about getting ready for our first official date. What the hell are you going on about? Of course I smell like him. He stinks of me, too. You share a bed and everything else with someone for six months and it’s bound to happen, man.”

“You didn’t tell me it was him!” Scott’s voice has risen to a point somewhere between I forgot to do my homework and Dude, you shot someone. Stiles is slightly shocked to realize that he doesn’t know which of those two extremes Scott is sitting closer to. He hasn’t been out of Beacon Hills for that long, he should know. He should know what Scott’s feeling. Scott says, “You never have your face or his in the pictures you send. I know what his and your hands look like together, and that he’s got way hairier legs than you, and the color of the sofa in your apartment.” Scott’s cheeks are getting pinker with every breath in. “You only ever call him D or big D in your texts, and man, I wasn’t going to ask if that was related to his name or something else! I just thought you’d hooked up with some boar-man and he didn’t want you taking pictures of his beard or kinky-harness or something.”

Stiles tries to hold it in and fails spectacularly. He’s glad they’re not eating or drinking, ‘cause he’d have knocked everything over and spat everything out. He catches his breath and manages to ask, “Boar-man? Kinky what? What the hell, Scotty?”

Scott blinks and looks at the table and then at Stiles, but can’t seem to look him in the eye. “You know, a boar. A big hairy guy that likes leather and lithe, young men.”

Stiles presses the back of his hand to his mouth to stop himself from laughing more. “You did your homework, huh? It’s bear, though, not boar. I don’t think a lot of big, hairy gay men would like you calling them pigs. Also, I’m pretty sure they don’t exclusively like twinks. I’ve seen bears with bears and twinks and guys in expensive suits. Derek’s not a bear, though, man, even if he is rocking a pretty awesome beard these days.”

Scott’s eyes are wide, and he sputters, “I. Oh.”

Stiles leans back. Scott now looks far more like the Scott he wants to see. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it more clear to you, dude. I could have sworn told you I was with Derek. Either way, we’re here now, and we want to help, and you’ve got to let us. We’re all in this dude, and together we can make it go our way.”

♠

Bright: [n] filled with light, vivid or brilliant: [n] quick-witted, intelligent: [n] favorable or auspicious, bright prospects