"SHIT! Isaac, get up! Get up! We're late, oh god dad's gonna kill me. GET UP!"
Isaac rolled over on Stiles's bed slowly, cracking an eye open slowly but quickly shutting them and burrowing his face into the pillow after all of Satan's fiery hell lights streaming through the windows burns his retinas.
"ISAAC! Come on!" Stiles shouted, running around his room grabbing clothes haphazardly from the ground.
"Mmm, what time is it?"
"What time is it it? WHAT TIME IS IT? We were supposed to leave five minutes ago!"
Isaac lifted his head just in time to watch Stiles trip over his own feet and land on his ass. Glancing at the alarm clock, Isaac quickly got off the bed, picking up the other clothes that had been strewn on Stiles's floor.
"You had to check the clock? Really? My frantic screaming wasn't enough for you?" Stiles asked irritably, attempting to tug on his jeans without actually getting up from where he was sitting on the carpet. Isaac ignored him, not bothering to respond save for a roll of his eyes. After hastily getting dressed, Isaac doing so much more gracefully than Stiles, the two bolted to the jeep.
While Stiles fumbled his keys trying to unlock the driver's door, he felt Isaac's tall body press up behind him. Isaac reached in front of Stiles with both arms, effectively encircling the smaller boy with his warmth, and took the keys from Stiles's fidgeting hands.
"Here, let me," Isaac whispered close to Stile's ear, his hot breath burning the back of Stiles's neck as he inserted the key and pulled the jeep's door open in one swift movement.
As quickly as Isaac had stepped into Stiles's personal space, he left, striding over to the passenger side and waiting for Stiles to unlock his door. Stiles hopped into the driver's seat, slamming his door shut, and leaning over to unlock the passenger door all the while thinking of the heat of Isaac's body pressed up against his.
The night before Isaac had come over to watch a few movies, but movies turned into talking until nearly three in the morning about everything. They talked about all that's happened, all their worries and fears and regrets. Stiles talked about the guilt he couldn't seem to shake no matter how many times his friends assured him that he was blameless, it was the nogitsune, not him. Not him. He told Isaac how sometime he couldn't even stand to look at Scott or his dad, knowing, remembering everything he put them through. Isaac listened. He listened while Stiles told him things he hadn't said before, not even in his own mind. And when Stiles was exhausted after running through a gamut of emotions, from lost to angry to fighting back tears, Isaac simply helped him take off his shirt and jeans before shedding his own clothes down to his boxers. He tucked the blanket tightly around Stiles before climbing into his bed behind him and wrapping a strong arm around his waist. They shared a pillow, Isaac's soft breathing lulling Stiles into a dreamless, comfortable sleep.
They made it to school late, of course, and took their seats promptly after a short lecture on the importance of punctuality from their teacher. Stiles sat next to Scott as he did every day, Isaac taking the seat behind him.
Feeling the burn of eyes fixed on him, Stiles turned in his desk to look at Scott who was staring at him with a pinched expression of sheer disbelief.
"You alright, buddy?" Stiles asked, instantly worried.
"Dude, why are you wearing Isaac's shirt?"
Stiles looked down suddenly, taking in for the first time the navy blue of a shirt that was, yep definitely NOT his.
"Uh," Stiles responded eloquently, unsure of what to say.
"…and the pants you wore yesterday…"
Stiles fidgeted uncomfortably, wanting Scott's assessing gaze off of him.
"…oh my god."
Stiles looked up at his best friend, following his line of sight directly to Isaac who, yep, was definitely wearing Stile's red t-shirt.
Seemingly enjoying the display between the two friends, Isaac merely smirked, winking at Stiles cheekily. His ears burned red enough to match Isaac's – Stiles's – shirt and he carefully avoided looking at Scott's shocked but amused expression.
It wasn't what Scott was thinking. Nothing happened, they didn't have sex, hadn't even kissed – last night wasn't the time for that - but Stiles would be lying if he said he didn't want to try sometime in the future.
Chancing a glance back at Isaac once more, Stiles locked onto his kind eyes, his small smile that held just a hint of a smirk. Blushing once again, Stiles turned back around his desk, feeling Isaac's hand skim his underneath their desks.
Yeah, definitely trying those things in the future.