#sciam

Theo, immediately: We can't fuck if you're in prison.

Liam: Great, thanks.

@thiamsalpha @haven-of-dusk @ksbbb @maplesyrizzup @thiamsxbitch @mmoosen @genetic-hellhound @endlessnightmaress @royal-callahxn @findingthiam @axxxx13

I’ve been tagged in a lot of these WIP games over many weeks and weeks. Thank you for tagging me, I do appreciate it. I haven’t had anything to share until now.

Here’s an extra long snippet from a fic I was working on for Scottuary that I didn’t get finished in time. Prompt was “summer break” which is more or less spiralled into Scott has his “hot girl summer” before starting college. Each chapter to feature a different Scott pairing)

One particular morning, after a longer-than-usual run that leaves his quads screaming and his white shirt plastered to his chest, Scott decides to detour. His usual post-run routine involves a cold shower and a protein shake, but the scent of roasted beans drifting from the Beacon Hills Beanery is too tempting to resist.

He joins the short queue to order, his white shirt clinging damply to his chest, emphasizing the lean muscle of his torso. Sweat still glistens on his skin, a sheen of exertion that catches the soft, internal cafe lighting. When it's his turn, he’s greeted by a deliciously sexy Brazilian barista.

And Scott feels it. That familiar, pleasant jolt.

The barista’s eyes are the colour of dark roasted coffee, framed by thick lashes. A faint smile curves his mouth—easy, confident, just shy of mischievous. He wears a black apron over a fitted grey t-shirt that hugs his shoulders just right. A touch of stubble shadows his jaw, giving him a slightly dangerous edge. But There’s recognition in his gaze.

“Scott McCall?” he says, voice smooth with a melodic accent Scott can’t quite place. His smile widens. “Man, I almost didn’t recognize you out of uniform. You look… good.”

Scott blinks, heat rising to his cheeks. He’s used to intensity—Derek’s dark focus, Boyd’s steady appraisal—but this is different. Playful. Curious. Warm. Inviting.

“Uh, hey. Yeah, that’s me,” Scott says, pushing a hand through his damp hair. “Do I know you?”

The barista chuckles, low and inviting. “Josh Diaz. Beacon Point High. I was one of your competitor school’s mascots. Timberwolf.” He mimes a dramatic claw swipe. “State quarterfinals last year? You absolutely flogged us.”

Scott laughs, genuine and surprised. “The Timberwolf! You guys had the most aggressive mascot I’ve ever seen.”

“Had to,” Josh replies, leaning casually against the counter. “Someone had to try matching your intensity. Didn’t work, obviously,” he shrugs. “But everyone knew about the McCall kid at Beacon Hills. You guys always had a solid team.”

His gaze drifts—slow, deliberate—over Scott’s sweat-slicked chest before flicking back to his face. The look lingers just long enough to make Scott’s stomach flip and flutter with fireflies.

So,” Josh continues, voice dipping into a teasing lilt, “What can I get for the star lacrosse player?”

Scott swallows. “Cold brew. Large. Extra Ice.”

“Coming right up, champ,” Josh says. He gestures to the small patio outside. “Grab a seat, I’ll bring it out when it’s ready. You look like you need to cool down.”

Scott nods, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “Thanks, Josh.”

He walks outside, settling onto a wrought-iron chair that’s still cool in the pre-dawn air. The street is quiet, the sky just beginning to hint at streaks of rose and orange. He can still feel the lingering burn in his quads, but a different kind of heat now spreads through him, ignited by Josh’s recognition and playful flirtation.

A few minutes later, Josh appears with a tall, condensation-beaded cold brew. He sets it down with a soft clink. “Here you go. On the house. Consider it a welcome to summer, no more rivalries.”

Scott’s eyes widen. “Seriously? Thanks, man. You didn’t have to.”

Josh shrugs, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his gaze warm and direct. “Consider it a friendly gesture. Or a reward for putting in the work. You always looked good on the field, even when you were kicking our asses.” He pauses, his gaze sweeping over Scott again, a slow appreciation that makes Scott’s stomach flutter with fireflies all over again. “Still do, even covered in sweat.”

Scott chuckles, taking a long, grateful swig of the cold brew. It’s perfect, strong and icy. “Thanks. It’s definitely a different kind of workout this summer. Trying to keep busy.”

“Oh yeah?” Josh asks, a knowing glint in his dark eyes. “What kind of busy?”

“Just… exploring,” Scott says, a little more confident than he feels. He gestures vaguely. “New experiences. No plans.”

Josh’s smile softens. “No plans, huh? I like the sound of that. My schedule’s pretty open outside of this place. There’s a bonfire down at the beach tonight. You should come. Cool off after all that… exploration. Or, you know, come for more exploration,” he winks