Disclaimer: We don't own anything except the idea of TBS on Teen Wolf. Also, everything bolded is author commenting/narration/inner monologue kind of thing. :) Enjoy!


William stepped off the plane and set foot on American soil for the very first time. A single glistening tear chased its way down his cheek. Would they accept him? Would they consider him an invader?

JK NOPE!

Will was actually a pretty cool guy, or so he liked to think. He had come on a home stay to Beacon Hills with the Stilinski family only a few days before, and already he was caught up in a difficult battle.

William was falling in love with his homestay brother, Stiles.

Dude. Not cool.

He was pretty sure that Stiles was straight because he had the cutest best friend, Scott but showed no interest, (which was incredible. I mean, that boy was fiiiiiinnne) and his attention was largely taken up by his (maybe) girlfriend Lydia. Lydia was pretty pretty, for a girl. But Stiles was something else. That smile. Man. Those eyes. Will didn't know what Stiles saw in her, he could do so much better. He could do Will. Hold up dude, you just met the guy!

Haven't you heard of love at first sight? It was instantaneous. From the moment the two met, Will's heart beat an erotically unsteady rhythm in his chest. It was all he could do to keep from running his fingers through that thick brown hair, kissing those pouty lips. From how long he stared, he was sure he might as well have thrown glitter and held up a rainbow sign reading, 'I'M GAY!'

The only other guy Will noticed in the least was Scott's adopted brother, Isaac. And that was simply because that boy had some incredible scarves! He was also was amazingly attractive. Dat jawline doe.

"Will!" Stiles called from his bedroom door. Will could only dream it was with a different sort of plea. "We need to leave for school! It's the first day of eleventh grade, we don't want to be late!"

Will scowled. First a new country, then a new crush, and now a new school. How much did God think he could handle? I feel. Also, Will didn't believe in God, except when he needed someone to blame... or something...

Grabbing his rucksack -sorry, backpack- he rushed down the stairs. He expected Stiles to be waiting, but the boy was running back up the stairs, shirt dripping with coffee. As Will watched he pulled it over his head and- disappeared around the corner. Damn. Will wanted a glimpse of what he was sure were some pretty epic pecs.

"All ready Will?" Mr Stilinski asked from behind. Will jumped, flushing furiously. Yeah you better have, you were thinking inappropriate thoughts about Papa Stilinski's son. Hghm. Not that we weren't.

"Bloody hell, sir, you startled me."

"No need to call me Sir, Will. Stilinski will do just fine.

Will smiled at the British label, it reminded him of his friends' parents back home. "Cheers Sir- err, Stilinski." It was then that Stiles came crashing down the stairs, placing a hand on Will's shoulder to steady himself. Sweet baby jesus, but that felt nice. Stiles blew past him in an irresistible breeze of Old Spice and peppermint shampoo. Really, someone needed to give Will a bit more credit for his self-restraint.

Will followed Stiles out the door to his jeep, which for some strange reason Stiles had named Roscoe. "She's a bit of a beast," Stiles had explained on their first drive, "but she serves well. We all kind of love her. Or… I do. I think Scott is a little done." Will remembered finding this oddity endearing. Unfortunately, it wasn't less so in the cold light of morning. Climbing into the passenger side, Will watched as Stiles opened the hood and fiddled around with something. It had taken him a few tries to get used to the fact that the passenger side in America was the opposite of what it was in England. This had resulted in a few awkward times he had nearly sat on Stiles' lap because he wasn't paying attention. Not that he minded, and Stiles had over-reacted, pushing him off quickly.

By the time they pulled up in the school parking lot, Will had said exactly four words during the trip, though Stiles had talked non-stop, briefing him on the teachers, students, caf. food and prettiest girls. He was so oblivious.

He took a deep breath and braved the sea of chattering students. They may as well have spoken a different language for all the American slang. Stiles dragged him off to Scott and Kira, who were holding hands at a picnic table near the doors, then bolted, blushing, for the readhead. Next to Lydia were Allison and Isaac, seeming to be in the midst of a serious discussion. They paused it long enough to say hello to Stiles and acknowledge Will before turning back to each other. Will stared down the imposingly attractive group he was expected to befriend. This was going to be a looong day.

Good luck little Tom Tom (:


Xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

R&R motherfuckers (: