This is the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written, just feelings and lyrics and it's terrible and I'm sorry. Actually I'm not, I needed this after the finale. Spoilers up to 3x12, except Derek and Cora didn't leave, so AU-ish, I guess?
Title from Richard Siken's "The Torn-Up Road"
I don't own TW, the characters or any of the songs you might recognize.
"Okay, so what's the plan?"
Isaac looks around, looks up, looks at the door he desperately wishes Stiles hadn't closed. At least it isn't locked. He could get out easily if he wanted to, he knows that. Even his heart seems to know there is no real reason for him to panic, beating only slightly faster than normal.
It still doesn't mean that he likes it.
They're hiding in the janitor's closet because Stiles is nuts, speaking in hushed tones as if they were a planning a murder – they aren't, not this time, promise – and Isaac has trouble understanding why all of this is necessary. If by some cruel twist of fate Scott happens to find them here, he's sure as hell going to have a lot more questions than if he had found them in the cafeteria talking like normal people.
"Why are you whispering?" he asks to avoid answering the question and blinks innocently at Stiles whose arms are crossed over his chest, left foot tapping impatiently on the floor. "Actually, why are we even here? Scott is somewhere with Lydia, it's not like – "
"You don't have a plan, do you?"
And, well. No. No, he really doesn't.
All he has is an idea and he hadn't even been sure it was a good one until Stiles said it was, so no, there is no plan, Isaac hasn't thought that far ahead yet. He knows what he wants to do but that – that's about it. He sort of supposed they would get up at four am, grab some snacks and take the first bus to wherever, but right now that's starting to sound stupid even in his head so he's not saying it out loud. Asking Derek to let them borrow his car is completely out of the question; never in a million years would Derek agree to that, not even for Scott's sake.
Because that's it. That's the actual problem and the reason why Isaac feels like he's about to lose it and do something extremely stupid, like rip someone's throat out if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Scott.
Scott, who hasn't been himself lately.
He's not okay, no matter what he says or how hard he tries to act like he's fine, which doesn't exactly come as a surprise considering everything that has happened in the last few months and Deaton's warning on top of that, but it's getting to the point where even Coach, whose main concern still is to keep the team in shape and who still doesn't know that half of said team are supernatural beings, has started to ask every now and then how Scott is doing. And Isaac – Isaac wants to help. To get Scott out of this town before it sucks the life out of him completely.
He told Stiles first because – well, it's not like he's asking for Stiles' permission, but he knows how much Scott and Stiles mean to each other and apparently that's starting to mean something to Isaac too, because he wants to assure Stiles that he won't let anything happen to Scott, that he'll look after him, that Scott is safe with Isaac. He just – he needs Stiles to be okay with this.
Yeah, he's asking for Stiles' permission.
Stiles eyes Isaac warily for what seems like forever, tilts his head to one side, then to the other. In the end he lets out a deep sigh, rolls his eyes dramatically and tells Isaac to pack some clothes and a toothbrush the next morning and leave the rest to him.
Isaac can only nod even if he has no idea what the hell just happened.
/ / /
"Derek said he wants to take us and Cora somewhere to train, I don't even know," he tells Allison later that afternoon, trying not to feel too guilty for lying to her so early in their relationship.
Not that what they have is a relationship. Isaac is pretty sure that requires more than fooling around a few times and he doesn't think he's capable of offering that kind of emotional commitment yet. But he has to explain to Allison why he'll be gone for the weekend and he can't exactly tell her that he's sort of planning to kidnap Scott.
God, that doesn't sound right.
The thing is, everyone will be worried if they find out what is going on, so Isaac tries to keep it a secret. Stiles and Melissa are the only ones who know – well, they don't know much either if he's being completely honest, and he still can't believe they're actually letting him do this considering that Isaac himself doesn't know what the fuck he's trying to do. Essentially his plan is "get Scott out of Beacon Hills, take his mind off things, bend over backwards to try and fix whatever's broken, you have two days."
It's a terrible plan and Isaac hates it but he would hate himself even more if he didn't at least try to help Scott.
"Isaac."
Allison's voice is steady. Confident. So different from how his own voice sounds sometimes. He likes it, he realizes. Allison's strength, the way she's in complete control of her emotions. He wishes he could say he knows that's Allison's personal choice, not to show how vulnerable she really is. Wishes it didn't have anything to do with her grandfather and what he did to her.
But the truth remains that they're all just a bunch of messed up, insecure kids pretending to be fearless heroes. Sheep in wolf's clothing, not the other way around. It's probably why they get along so well.
"Is Scott okay?"
Isaac can feel hysterical laughter bubbling up in his throat as soon as the question leaves her mouth. Of course. Allison doesn't need werewolf senses to know when he's trying to hide something from her, especially if it's related to Scott.
It doesn't bother him, this bond the two of them still have; he knows they still love each other in a way and probably always will, and that – that's a good thing. What makes him uncomfortable is having to lie to so many people who care about Scott. People who have known Scott for longer than he has, who could tell him to leave Scott alone, that Scott doesn't need his help. And maybe they would be right, they know Scott better than Isaac does after all, but Isaac couldn't bear to hear that again. That he's useless, worthless, that no one really needs him – that Scott doesn't need him. The only one who can tell him that is Scott himself.
He looks at Allison, takes in her big brown eyes – worried, always worried – and smiles as reassuringly as he can. "Yeah, Scott, he – he's fine," Isaac lies and swears to do whatever it takes for that not to be a lie by the time they return.
/ / /
Melissa makes them breakfast before she goes to work, gives Isaac a brown paper bag after making sure Scott isn't paying them any attention. Sandwiches. Isaac can't hold back a smile, mouths thank you and puts the bag in his backpack, which is full of clothes instead of books. He really hopes he doesn't fuck this up.
She hugs them both and if Scott notices that his hug lasts a bit longer he doesn't say a thing. Then again, he's still half-asleep, so maybe he actually doesn't notice.
That changes ten minutes later when Stiles arrives with Lydia in tow. As soon as he sees her, Scott is wide awake and asking what happened, what's wrong, is she okay, is everyone okay. He looks tired, so very tired but absolutely prepared to fight if he has to.
Stiles and Isaac exchange a knowing look. That is exactly why this is happening. Scott needs a break before he loses it completely.
"Get in the car, Scotty," Stiles says after Lydia manages to calm Scott down – no, seriously, everything's fine, Scott, breathe –, looking almost as nervous as Isaac feels. He squeezes Scott's shoulder, gives him a secret, indecipherable smile that makes Scott raise an eyebrow, and for a second Isaac thinks that's it, Scott knows they're up to something, it's over, there's nothing left to do, and it's all because Stiles Stilinski's face has a mind of its own.
But Scott just shrugs, waves at Lydia and punches Stiles playfully in the shoulder before getting in the passenger seat, and Isaac lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
Stiles gives him the car keys with a whispered "Take care of my baby, yeah?" which Isaac would snort at if Stiles didn't look so serious. And Isaac thinks, well, maybe he doesn't mean his Jeep.
"So… I think I'd like to know what's going on."
Ridiculously enough, Scott's voice startles him and he drops the keys as he watches Stiles and Lydia drive away in Lydia's car. Of course Stiles, who was looking back, notices and proceeds to yell "Great start there, Lahey!" which is shortly followed by "Ow, Lydia, why – "
Isaac grins. Lydia is definitely growing on him.
He braces himself for the worst and gets in car expecting Scott to be freaked out or angry or at least annoyed and maybe brooding. Instead he finds Scott with an amused smile on his lips, like they're all playing some kind of joke on him and he's just waiting for the punch line.
Isaac notices a duffel bag on the back seat and he's reaching over before he can stop himself. Stiles' scent is the one he recognizes first, it's impossible not to, but if he focuses he can still catch faint traces of Scott's underneath it. Clothes Scott must have left at Stiles' place at some point, he guesses, casually sniffing a shirt because that's what normal people do.
There's some money there too, and a note that says, "Gas & food. You're welcome."
And yeah, that's definitely Lydia's neat handwriting. Isaac is forever indebted to both her and Stiles.
"Dude, seriously," Scott starts again, the smile gone from his lips. "What the hell are we doing?"
"Leaving town for the weekend," Isaac replies with a sigh, suddenly wanting to get it all out. Before he chickens out or something. He supposes he should start the car.
Scott opens his mouth but says nothing, eyes widening almost comically as the words start to sink in, and then he's shaking his head furiously. "No. No way, we're not doing that, no. No. Isaac, we can't!"
They can, actually. They have a car and apparently gas money too, clean clothes and what looks like a beautiful day ahead. So, technically, they can.
Isaac tells Scott this much and, predictably, Scott disagrees.
"No, Isaac, seriously, come on, man," he splutters, brown eyes ridiculously wide, arms flailing everywhere. He's never looked more like Stiles. "Dude, this isn't funny, my mom – "
"Is worried sick about you."
"Exactly!"
"No, not about this, she's okay with this," Isaac waves him off, focusing on the road. He doesn't want to think about what Stiles will do to him if he so much as scratches the Jeep. He also doesn't really want to talk about why exactly Melissa is more than okay with them doing this; that's a conversation Melissa and Scott need to have first.
"She's okay with – what – she's – Isaac, stop the car!"
And Isaac pulls over because he has yet to master the art of driving and fighting with your best friend at the same time. Not that he wants to fight with Scott but that seems inevitable now, so.
It's not as easy as he thought it would be to explain to Scott why he's doing this – he can handle the part where everyone is worried about Scott because most of the time he's either so tired that he can barely keep his eyes open or uncharacteristically tightly wound and moody and closed-off. He can tell Scott that he hears him tossing and turning every night, unable to sleep for longer than one hour or two – which means that Isaac isn't sleeping either, but he hopes Scott won't pick up on that; the truth is it's been weeks since they last had a good night's sleep. He has no problem flat-out telling Scott that he's slowly turning into Derek, and having one damaged, guilt-ridden wolf in their pack is more than enough, thank you very much.
What Isaac doesn't dare to confess is that he's also doing it for his own selfish reasons. Because he hates that lately Scott has been so guarded around him, always careful, always thinking twice before cracking a joke, always weighing his words. Because he misses Scott's contagious laughter and those carefree smiles that would light up Isaac's entire world. Because he wants their effortless friendship back and he's so, so sorry that he messed that up by starting this thing he has with Allison.
And he needs – this. To spend some time with Scott, to try to fix everything that's broken, because what they have means too much for Isaac to give it up without a fight. Scott means too much. And Isaac may be used to losing everyone he loves, but he can't lose Scott too.
"This is a terrible idea," Scott concludes after Stiles hangs up on him, just like Melissa did less than ten minutes ago. But Scott is frustratingly stubborn so of course he had to call them both. "He said that the universe owes me this much or something," he huffs and buries his head in his hands, and while that sounds like something only Stiles could come up with and genuinely mean, Isaac has to agree that it also sounds ridiculous. He seriously doubts that the universe gives a shit about what they think it owes them.
"Stiles has Derek on speed dial, you know. Just in case," Isaac offers, hoping that might help somehow. He can see Scott's resolve starting to weaken and that makes him feel a bit more confident again, like someone lit up a candle inside of him and then another one and another and then he's glowing from the inside out. "And it's not like we'll be in, like, New York, so – "
"Yeah, I know," Scott interrupts, nodding a couple of times, sighing deeply, nodding once more.
Isaac doesn't know what to do with that. Is that a yes? Okay? Let's do this? Let's go back home and forget all about it?
"So, where are we going?"
Isaac turns his head so quickly he almost gets whiplash. Was that a yes? Because it sure sounded a lot like yes. Did Scott just agree –
"Dude, I can hear you thinking. Yes, it's a yes. Now tell me where we're going."
Isaac doesn't even try to bite back a grin at that, feeling like someone's just given him the world, even if Scott sounds resigned more than anything and his eyes don't sparkle like they usually do; but it isn't no, not anymore, and that's all Isaac needs.
"Anywhere," he answers because it's the first thing that comes to mind and also because it's true. There is no intended destination; just the two of them, Stiles' Jeep and the open road.
Scott shrugs, leans his head against the window and begins to untangle his earphones. "If you say so," he mumbles and gives Isaac one last look before turning his iPod on and closing his eyes, this is a portrait of a tortured you and I hanging like a heavy curtain around him.
Isaac needs a moment but then he shrugs too, admittedly a bit disappointed, but he refuses to let Scott's less-than-enthusiastic answer bring him down. He's going to let Scott brood for now if that's what he needs, but he'll also be right next to him when Scott decides he's ready to smile again.
/ / /
The first thing Scott asks when he wakes up three hours later is where they are.
"Middle of Nowhere, California," Isaac answers promptly, taking a big bite out of a sandwich. He's feeling a bit restless and a bit bored at the same time, having driven for too long with no one to talk to and only too tall trees and too quiet small towns to keep him company. But that was the longest Scott's slept in weeks, so waking him up wasn't even an option.
Isaac watches Scott yawn and rub his eyes, brown hair mussed, right earphone still in, you're miles away and yesterday you were here with me, features relaxed and soft until he remembers where he is.
And Isaac keeps staring at him, nervous for so many reasons, thinking of all the ways this could go wrong, silently praying that it won't.
"Eyes on the road, Lahey." Scott grins but it feels forced. He's tense and visibly worried and his heart is beating too fast and everything is wrong.
Isaac figures it's time to throw caution to the wind, reaches out and takes Scott's hand, lacing their fingers together without a second thought.
Scott lets him.
/ / /
It started with because I trust you, Isaac supposes, the very first words of a chapter he never intended to write, and continued with Scott rushing to save him so many times he's lost count, with honest smiles and bone-deep trust and Isaac standing soaking wet in Scott's bedroom after being let down once again.
He remembers what friendship used to feel like, remembers Matt and comic books and pretending to be Peter Parker, bike races and the two of them waiting for their Hogwarts letters. Being friends with Scott is just like that and something entirely different all at once, a comfortable feeling of safety and a pleasant nervousness that makes Isaac's heart skip a beat. It's a friendly pat on the shoulder, a warm hand on a chest, Scott's motorcycle and Isaac's arms wrapped snugly around his waist. It's inside jokes and accidental innuendos that Scott snickers at and Isaac never feels like he has to apologize for.
It's sweet and platonic until Isaac's subtlety flies out the window and Scott begins to look confused but never tells Isaac to stop with the unnecessary touching. And sometimes, because he's a masochistic idiot, Isaac allows himself to hope that maybe he's not the only one who feels like they're stuck somewhere between more than and almost and not yet.
It started with I don't want you to get hurt and fingertips touching and a prolonged gaze.
/ / /
They don't talk much until they do, and Scott is still on edge until he isn't anymore, singing along to the radio, iPod forgotten in the grey hoodie he'd taken off a while ago, or whining about wanting chocolate. Isaac stops at a gas station, telling himself it was time for a break anyway, and waits outside while Scott does the shopping, stretching his back and arms until he hears a satisfying pop.
Scott comes back with barbecue flavored chips and a six pack of Red Bull. No chocolate. He grins dopily at Isaac, eyes crinkling at the corners and dimples showing, looking like the kid that he is for the first time in weeks, and it's only because he hasn't seen that grin in a while that Isaac forgets how to breathe for a second, dizzy with joy and hope. He has to shake his head because staring is inappropriate and so is the fact that he wouldn't mind to keep looking at his best friend's lips.
Scott clears his throat, a slight blush on his cheeks. His left hand comes to rest on Isaac's shoulder, warm and comforting as always, and then he's pushing himself up on his tiptoes, sliding his arms around Isaac's neck.
Isaac freezes.
It's stupid and he knows he's overreacting. It doesn't mean anything, Scott and Stiles are all over each other more often than not, that's how their friendship works, unrestrained affection and a constant need to touch, like they want to make sure the other is in fact there, real and tangible and alive. Isaac can't blame them considering everything they've been through.
His arms move almost of their own accord, wrapping themselves slowly around Scott's smaller body, and he knows, rationally speaking, that this is nothing but a friendly hug. It doesn't stop his heart from racing, though.
"Thanks," Scott sighs, nose buried in the crook of Isaac's neck. "I know what you're doing. I mean you and mom and Stiles. So. Thank you. For this. For caring."
It feels like a punch in the gut for some reason, the fact that Scott thinks he has to thank him. Because Scott should know by now how important he is to Isaac, that he and Melissa have become the family that Isaac has been dreaming of for years, that he would walk through fire for them. And he's not doing this because he feels like he owes Scott something. He's doing it because he wants to, because friends look after each other. And Scott is always trying to do good and help everyone, so he shouldn't look so embarrassed and almost disappointed that sometimes he needs to be taken care of, too. He deserves this, he deserves this more than anyone.
Isaac pulls back a bit and leans down to rest their foreheads together, cupping Scott's face in his hands as his lips curve into a smile. This is still okay, he knows, he's seen Stiles do this too, and then he usually bumps their noses together, which always makes Scott laugh heartily, but Isaac isn't going to do that. It feels like stealing something that belongs to Scott and Stiles alone, and it's taken Isaac long enough to convince Stiles that he isn't trying to replace him, that all he wants is to find his own place in Scott's life and heart.
"We should probably go." Scott takes a step back and he's looking at the ground, but Isaac can see the tug of a smile on his lips.
He relaxes instantly, leaning against the Jeep with his arms crossed over his chest. "Eager, are we?" he teases, reveling in the sound of Scott's laugh, ignoring the warm fluttering in his stomach. "So, you actually want to do this now? You're okay with it, yeah?"
"Well," Scott starts, and his is face serious but there's an unmistakable mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "You do know I could just make you turn this car around and take me back home, right?"
Isaac grins. "Yeah? You gonna go all Alpha on me?"
And maybe – maybe he shouldn't have said that. His breath catches in his throat at the look Scott gives him, but it's not because Scott is angry – he isn't, Scott never gets mad at him, not even when Isaac wolfs out and the only thing that can pull him back is Scott's commanding voice. It's just something they don't really talk about, and having Scott look at him like that is still unusual and it makes Isaac want to bare his throat and close his eyes and let Scott have complete control over him. And he knows it's a stupid, stupid wolf thing, visceral and overpowering, so it's not like there's anything he can do about it.
Scott shakes his head, lets out a short, embarrassed laugh and mumbles a quick "Sorry, dude," before squeezing Isaac's hand lightly and getting back in the car. Isaac wants to ask what he's apologizing for but he thinks that Scott himself doesn't really know either.
It's awkward and they're silent again for a while, the only noise coming from the engine and the radio playing softly in the background. Isaac keeps stealing glances at Scott only to find him looking back, and suddenly it's that kind of awkward that's accompanied by flushed cheeks and barely contained grins and the occasional giggle. They burst out laughing at the same time, looking anywhere but at each other. It's ridiculous, Stiles would probably knock their heads together if he were there to see how they're acting.
Isaac's never been good with words, he's well aware of that and has no problem admitting it out loud if he has to. Words are confusing and terrifying and they usually get Isaac into trouble, so he's learned to use gestures to express whatever he's feeling at a particular moment. Not that gestures don't lead to misunderstandings also, but it's easier to make a clumsy touch look like an accident than to try to take back words that sometimes hurt more than a physical blow ever could. He feels like Scott understands this – him – better than anyone he's ever met, probably because Scott is the same, often struggling to find the right words, preferring to fix things, to help and heal and take the pain away with a touch.
So it's normal, Isaac thinks, that he wants to hold Scott's hand again, to say and hear that everything is okay without using words that would do nothing but complicate what should be effortless and natural.
But Scott lifts his hand to bite at a fingernail before Isaac can grab it, and then Isaac's fingers are gripping a denim-clad thigh, which, well, that wasn't the plan.
Out of the corner of his eye he can see Scott frowning for a second, and Isaac gulps audibly, too dumbstruck to do anything else. He doesn't even notice that Scott is moving his arm again until his hand comes to rest on top of Isaac's, giving it another gentle squeeze, innocent and reassuring.
Isaac needs to take a deep breath anyway.
It's when they're leaving the town behind, at some point between let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain and the sun starting to burn too bright and too hot for a fall afternoon, that Isaac realizes he's way in over his head.
/ / /
"So, why you?"
"Huh?"
They're at a cozy Mexican restaurant in another small town that Isaac couldn't be bothered to remember the name of, reds and oranges dancing across the sky as the sun sets. Isaac is definitely tired now, and he would suggest they find a motel if his mouth wasn't full, but he's a teenage boy and he's starving and the food is delicious. They'll talk about it later.
Scott shifts in his seat, and Isaac could tell that he's uncomfortable even without werewolf senses. He just doesn't know why.
"Scott?"
"It's just – I mean, Stiles could have done this too, you know, the whole road trip thing. You didn't have to – I mean I would've understood if you wanted to, like, just – it would've been fine if you – if Stiles – "
"Scott, hey," Isaac interjects with a sigh. His voice cracks and he hates it but that's nothing compared to the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He should have expected this, really. Of course Scott wishes his best friend was here instead of him, after all it's always been Scott and Stiles, not Scott and Isaac. He should have known. And this shouldn't hurt as much as it does. "Look, I know I'm not Stiles – "
"No! Shit, no – dude, that's not – that's not what I meant," Scott sputters and all but leaps over the table to grab Isaac's left hand. "I just – I thought you'd rather, you know, spend time with Allison now that you're – " he trails off, making a vague hand gesture, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to understand what that's supposed to mean. He also lets Isaac's hand slip out of his.
And – oh. That. That's another thing they don't really talk about, Isaac's relationship with Allison. That and Scott's Alpha-red eyes and that one night when Isaac was hiding under a bed and Scott was giving up and Stiles had no choice but to be even braver than usual; and now there's a certain FBI agent that they can add to the list.
They keep piling up, the things they don't talk about. Isaac thinks that one day they'll end up buried under an avalanche of words they were too afraid to say.
"I mean," Scott continues, his voice small, "I know what it's like, being with her. She's amazing, she really is, and sometimes it's hard not to get caught up in –" another hand gesture, accompanied by an embarrassed laugh, "Shit, I'm sorry, man, I don't even know what I'm trying to – I mean, I'm just saying, it would be fine if you – "
"Chose her over you?"
Scott nods.
And that hurts in so many ways and for so many reasons that Isaac has trouble breathing for a second. He's sure that it doesn't have anything to do with the ice baths because, surprisingly, they actually did talk about that and agreed it wouldn't have worked any other way. It's not about Scott being jealous because he isn't; Isaac knows he genuinely meant it when he said he was okay with Isaac and Allison being together, because that's the kind of guy Scott is – he only wants his loved ones to be happy, even if it means that he's going to get his heart broken. And it actually hurts, knowing that sometimes Scott has trouble understanding how much he means to others. It's a mind-numbing pain that flows through Isaac's veins and covers his bones and fills him with disappointment because he doesn't know how to make Scott's self-doubt go away, how to turn his insecurities to dust and make him see just how important he is and how much they all love him, that they won't love him any less if he doesn't always live up to the ridiculously high standards he's set for himself.
Just because he doesn't bring it up, it doesn't mean that Isaac doesn't notice how Scott frowns more than he smiles these days, how his shoulders slump when he thinks no one is looking, how the boy who used to be so full of light and hope has become jaded and overcautious, bruised and battered and broken. And Isaac is terrified that one day he'll wake up to the smell of gasoline and Stiles won't be there this time and it will be too late and nothing will matter anymore. Not without Scott.
"You're my Alpha," Isaac says then, sounding a hell of a lot more confident than he feels. If they can talk about him and Allison, they can talk about this, too. He needs to say it and Scott needs to hear it, they've been dancing around the issue for too long now and it got them nowhere. "I chose you, Scott. I will always choose you."
And maybe Scott meant romantic relationships while Isaac is talking pack dynamics, but maybe the lines between them are already so blurred that it's becoming increasingly difficult to pick up on the differences, so maybe – maybe – they actually mean the same thing.
Isaac catches a glimpse of a smile before Scott ducks his head, dimples out in full force, white teeth sinking into a soft-looking bottom lip, and Isaac has to remind his heart to stop trying to jump out of his chest right now.
/ / /
They're lying on the hood of Stiles' Jeep, sharing ear buds, can you pick me up on your way home, we'll talk about love, staring up at dark, heavy clouds. Isaac almost wishes they could count stars instead but then he remembers this is real life and not a chick flick.
Scott asked if they could spend the night there when he spotted the abandoned forest road, eyes wide and bright and hopeful, and that's all it took for Isaac to agree instantly, thoughts of a warm room and a comfortable bed completely forgotten. He likes this better anyway, lying next to Scott, theirs hands brushing every now and then, causing a pleasant buzz to spread through his body. And if he shivers and Scott notices, he can always say it's because he's cold.
"There's a blanket in the trunk," Scott says suddenly, voice soft and sleepy. It's so endearing that Isaac can't help but smile.
"'M fine," he mumbles and closes his eyes. A second later he gives up any pretense of not wanting to snuggle, throws an arm over Scott's waist and a long leg over his hips. It's a wolf thing, he'll say if anyone asks. It's a natural craving for affection and physical contact after being touch-starved for so long. It's Scott knowing what he needs and being willing to give it to him. It's Isaac not being afraid to let Scott touch him. It's a Scott and Isaac thing, he supposes.
Scott starts to laugh. "Yeah, okay, you giant octopus," he jokes and puts an arm around Isaac's shoulders to pull him closer. He shifts until Isaac's head is resting on his chest and he can run his fingers through the mass of curls, nails scraping gently against Isaac's scalp.
Isaac falls asleep thinking I've missed you and dreams of being brave enough to say the words out loud someday.