Disclaimer: I own nothing.
AN: Silly, steam-of-consciousness drabble.
Just to be a dick-and he is, a big one, possibly the largest in the state-Isaac adopts a puppy from a shelter and names it Stiles.
Scott doesn't waste any time. Goes straight to cuddling puppy Stiles and talking to him as though he's perfectly capable of replying and generally being unable to get over how fucking cute this dog is. Scott rolls around on the floor with this thing, lets him fall asleep on his lap, strokes his fur and nuzzles his nose and tells him he's probably the most adorable thing in the entire universe before saying Let's ask Stiles, in the most disgustingly sweet, baby voice ever created. Has the nerve to turn to him all dude is this not the most adorable thing in the entire universe? like he actually expects an answer and Stiles is pretty sure Isaac is trying to make some sort of statement in the most dickish way possible but he'll be damned if he's going to waste precious moments of his life trying to decipher it.
The little canine asshole starts wagging his tail as soon as he sees Scott's stupid face, barks and jumps up and down like the alpha and omega of attention whores until Scott picks him up or worse, gets down on all fours and barks back. Isaac will just leave the fucker at Scott's house for days on end, disappear to god knows where to do god knows what with Allison and then it's roughly a thousand instances of no Stiles, we can't play Call of Duty puppy Stiles needs to go for a walk or go ahead and watch Two Towers man we're gonna run around the park for a while or dude can you turn that down? Puppy Stiles is sleeping and aww I think he's smiling at me and when Scott calls him downstairs, laughs-as though suddenly overcome with the novelty of living in a multi-Stiles universe and says sorry man, wrong Stiles human Stiles is five seconds away from yelling that Isaac decided to date Allison then gave a Scott a puppy so he'd forget about it.
And Jesus does Stiles have to grow fur? Does he have to crawl around with a squeaky toy in his mouth before they can play some goddamn Halo without Scott holding his controller in one hand so that he can pet the dog with the other?
There's affection and then there's whatever the hell Scott feels compelled to shower upon this sad Lassie imitation who's only been here a week when there are actual humans who have seniority. Sometimes, Stiles allows himself to imagine Animal Control showing up at random or a back door being left open, frantic searches and deep senses of resignation and patting his best friend on the shoulder at the end of the day and offering up an X-Box controller (Scott will be extremely moved by this gesture, will take the controller while looking at Stiles as though pleasantly confused as to how he got this lucky) but puppy Stiles is always under Scott's arm or jumping between his legs or licking his face or stealing his food. Which, okay. People were helping themselves to the food on Scott's plate with an endearing sense of entitlement long before this fleabag was born.
When Isaac returns from his lengthy sabbatical on Allison's mattress, he walks in the door and glances from the living room where Scott is fending off puppy Stiles' aggressive tongue bath with giggling and flaily gestures and loud, emphatic I love you too!'s, to the hall where Stiles is leaning against the banister with his arms folded across his chest, glaring into the living room. Purely for emphasis, Isaac's eyes will shift back and forth two, three times, a long, slow smirk sliding across his face when he locks eyes with Stiles and raises one intrigued, impossibly dick-ish eyebrow and Stiles will want so badly to posses the necessary strength to punch Isaac in the face without breaking any of his fingers.