Fandom/Pairing: "Teen Wolf"/Scisaac

Rating: M

Summary: "I was wondering if I could ask you a favor?" Scott/Isaac, post 3x04, pre-established relationship :)

A/N: This is my first foray into writing Teen Wolf smut, and writing Scisaac, so please be kind because this probably sucks I dk I'm rambling.

When Scott turns around, he sees the one person he wants to see most standing in the doorway of his bedroom; Isaac. His first instinct is to get up and take the taller boy in his arms, but as he gets a better look at him, he feels his heart constrict.

He is drenched from the rain, trembling, his white t-shirt clinging to his skin, and holding a duffel bag. His facial expression is that of someone much older than him – he looks tired and lost. Scott starts to speak, but Isaac beats him to it.

"I was wondering if I could ask you a favor?" His voice is low, his eyes desperate.

That's all it takes. A second later, Scott is wrapping his arms around Isaac, not caring about the fact that he's soaking wet. There is a soft thud as Isaac lets go of his duffel bag to cling to Scott, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. Isaac's breath comes in short gasps, muffled against Scott's hair.

"What happened?" Scott asks, voice soft, hands rubbing up and down Isaac's back.

"I…" Isaac shakes his head, screwing his eyes shut, "I don't know what I d-did wrong."

Scott watches as Isaac's face falls and his blue eyes brim with tears, and presses a kiss to his shaking lips, "You didn't do anything wrong, baby, it's all right, shhhh, just calm down…"

He pulls away for a moment to close his bedroom door and then pulls Isaac over to his bed, where the taller boy sits down, head in his hands. Scott kneels in front of him, grabbing the previously discarded duffel bag and un-zipping it to check its contents. He touches a hand to the clothes inside and his previous beliefs are confirmed; all of the things Isaac brought with him are soaked through from the storm. He stands up, drops the duffel bag beside his door - making a mental note to put Isaac's clothes in the dryer later - and moves over to his dresser. Rifling through the drawers, he retrieves a dry shirt and a pair of sweat pants.

"Scott, you don't have to–,"

"I want to," Scott cuts him off, reaching out to tug at the hem of Isaac's wet t-shirt, "I want to take care of you."

The shivering boy nods, a tiny smile forming at the corner of his mouth, and raises his arms so Scott can pull his shirt up over his head. The dry shirt is warm and soft and smells earthy and Isaac has to admit: he likes it when Scott treats him like this – like he's special and wanted and loved. After he manages to get Isaac's long legs into the sweat pants, he kisses the top of his head and sits down next to him on the bed.

"Thank you," Isaac murmurs, nosing at the shorter boy's hair affectionately, "The shirt smells like you."

Scott smiles – one of Isaac's favorite kinds where his eyes crinkle up at the corners – before asking, "So… what happened? You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, but I think you need to talk about it."

Isaac closes his eyes – for a few moments, he'd forgotten the whole thing entirely, why he was here, why he had nowhere else to go – and takes a deep breath, then nods, "Yeah," he breathes, looking down at his hands, "Yeah, uh… You're right." Scott is silent while Isaac works out how to say what he needs to say. "I went home after school today, and Derek was there, with Cora. He… was acting funny, sort of distant – more than usual, anyway and, um… he told me I had to move out. Something about how it was too much, having Cora and me there. I asked if I'd done something wrong, but he just told me to go." Isaac's voice is shaky now, his head down, "I didn't have anywhere else to g-go, so I came to you. I didn't even think about it, I-I just came h-here–,"

He's started to cry at this point, and Scott feels his heart tighten with sympathy, anger towards Derek coursing through his veins. He leans in to kiss Isaac's neck, arms wrapping around his middle. The taller boy cries quietly, his body shaking against Scott's.

"I didn't w-want to bother you l-like this," he whispers, breathily, "I just d-didn't want to b-be alone."

Scott feels like crying at that comment, because god, Isaac has been through so much. His father made his life hell for years, hurting him and making him feel worthless. Derek had taken him in; given him strength, power, family, and Isaac had finally felt as though he belonged. He'd grown close to Scott, but especially to Erica – but now Erica was gone. And now Derek has kicked him out, with no explanation as to why.

The incident in the janitor's closet earlier that day had reminded Scott just how damaged Isaac was inside. He has scars that aren't visible – scars on his heart and soul. He's so brave and strong, but that doesn't mean he doesn't break sometimes.

"You know what the worst p-part of it was?" Isaac's voice is calming down, his shoulders have stopped shaking.

"What?" Scott asks quietly, fingers drawing shapes on Isaac's back.

Isaac whispers, "When I kept asking why he wanted me to leave, Derek threw a glass at me. It was just like old times, when Dad would throw things, break things, yell… and lock me in the freezer." He lifts his head to look Scott in the eyes, blue staring into brown, and says, "You're the only person left that I trust. You're the only one I trust."

Scott nods, "I know, I know, baby, I'm sorry."

"No," Isaac shakes his head, "It's okay. It's okay because it's always been you, from the beginning. It was always you." Scott can't help the smile that spreads across his face, as he leans in to kiss Isaac softly. He can feel Isaac grinning into the kiss, before pulling away abruptly. "I totally forgot to ask you what I came here to ask," he murmurs, blushing faintly, "Is it all right if I–?"

"Yeah," Scott interrupts, because he already knew, "Of course."

Fifteen minutes later, both boys are under the covers in Scott's bed, wrapped up in each other. Scott has volunteered to be the big spoon – "just this one" – and Isaac doesn't object to that in the slightest. The shorter boys' arms are strong and warm and Isaac falls asleep in the midst of Scott pressing kisses into his neck.

Around two in the morning, Isaac has a nightmare. He's used to it by now, so is Scott, but this one is different. This one makes him wake up sweating, reaching for Scott in the darkness, only to find that he's there. He's not alone, Scott's there. He helps him count to thirty, a method Isaac has been using for years – especially when he was on his own – and whispers soothing words in his ear as he calms down. Isaac can feel his heartbeat against his back, steady and rhythmic and comforting. When his breathing finally returns to a normal pace, he rolls over so he and Scott are face to face, and cuddles up to him like a child. He has never appreciated or loved someone as much as he loves and appreciates Scott McCall right now.

"Were you dreaming about your dad?" Scott whispers, his breath hot on Isaac's face.

Isaac nods, "Derek had a cameo tonight as well."

Scott makes a quiet growling noise, his body tensing, "I still can't believe he did that to you. It's bullshit, he's anasshole–,"

"Scott," Isaac cuts him off, pressing his forehead against the shorter boys', "It's fine, I'm fine. I don't want to talk about it anymore – not right now."

Scott softens, even as his hold around Isaac's waist tightens, "Whatever you want, babe. We'll figure it out in the morning."

The next half hour or so passes in silence, as Isaac tries his best to get back to sleep. He listens to Scott's breathing patterns, taking comfort in the way his body feels against his own. However, the thoughts don't go away. In fact, he finds it nearly impossible to get his brain to shut up, to get the memories out of his head; the shouting, the sound of shattering glass, the loneliness, the fucking freezer – it's always there, all of it.

Not knowing what else to do, he snuggles closer to Scott, nipping at his jaw. The sleepy boy stirs, and then mumbles, "Mm, you okay?"

"I can't sleep," Isaac replies, trailing kisses up his boyfriend's shoulder, his neck, drinking in his sighs and his scent…

"You need sleep."

Isaac shakes his head, clinging to Scott, "I need you," he whispers, his tone pleading, "Make me forget."

"What do you mean?" Scott asks, ruffling Isaac's curly hair groggily.

Isaac doesn't know how to answer, doesn't know how to make him really understand, so he simply leans in and presses his lips to Scott's. The gesture elicits an "oh" of realization from Scott, and Isaac smirks. His hands are shaky as he reaches up to cup Scott's face, reveling in the way he tastes and smells and feels. Scott drags his hands up under Isaac's shirt, stroking at hot skin, whispering things into his mouth. Isaac can feel himself coming undone, like everything – all the pain and regret and self-loathing – are fading away, and there's only Scott.

Only Scott.

He makes Isaac feel so good. He treats him like he's precious, and Isaac needs that, needs him.

Clothes are shed quickly, until Scott is peppering Isaac's chest with soft bites and tiny kisses. Frantic words escape Isaac's lips, about how he needs Scott, needs him inside, wants him inside, now. Scott rolls them over so he's on top, sucking bruises into Isaac's collarbone, even as they heal instantly.

"You sure?" He asks, looking up at his panting boyfriend.

Isaac nods swiftly, and Scott moves in to kiss him again. This kiss is deeper than the ones before, and Isaac feels his nails digging into Scott's back.

It only hurts for a few moments, and Scott kisses him through it. Isaac is used to being on top – mostly because he's taller but also because he likes being in control – so this is very different for him, but he likes it. Scott feels so, unbelievably good, Isaac feels like he could cry. Soon, he starts to beg and moan; more, harder, faster, please. Scott drives into him again and again, holding onto Isaac's hips, whispering how much he loves him.

"God, baby, please, please, please," Isaac whimpers, reaching up to pull Scott in for a messy kiss that's all teeth and tongue and perfect.

Scott nuzzles his nose against Isaac's neck, working his hips back and forth, "You close?"

Isaac gasps, nodding feverishly, "Fuck, fuck, Scott."

The taller boy throws his head back against the pillows, allowing Scott to run his tongue across his collarbone. When he does come, Isaac feels his eyes flash gold, as he moans Scott's name into his hair. And when Scott spills himself inside of his quivering boyfriend, Isaac holds him through it, kissing him over and over.

"Thank you," he breathes, his nose touching Scott's, chest heaving.

Scott smiles, panting slightly, "Of course."

Isaac runs his fingers up Scott's back, before murmuring, "I love you."

Blushing sheepishly, Scott replies, "I love you, too," and kisses Isaac's nose.