This is kind of self-indulgent, I think, but I love vulnerable!Jackson and caretaker!Stiles, so here they are together in a little over 600 words. For those of you who read my Glee stories, I have not abandoned you, I'm just having issues and I wrote this for self-comfort. This is a one-shot unless someone ask for more, since I'm a sucker for reviews. Seriously, it's alarming. I own nothing, enjoy, or don't. -Maya

Stiles had no idea what had woken him up, but he was alert now, like someone had called his name. He sat up, dislodging Scott's drooling head from his shoulder. Derek lay at Stiles' other side, ridiculous arms crossed over his ridiculous chest, but his face relaxed for once. Scott snuggled back into Isaac, who was spooning him in his sleep. This was easily one of the gayest bro nights he had ever participated in, but that was okay.

Jackson was nowhere to be seen though. He had been active in all the broness of the evening, up until everyone fell asleep in a pile on his bed, 2 Fast 2 Furious droning softly in the dark. Stiles pushed his fingers through his hair a few times, blinking in the half-light, before disentangling himself from the bro pile (Derek wouldn't let them call it a puppy pile) and going in search of his favorite/least favorite lizard-wolf.

He didn't have to go far. He reached the top of the steps and saw Jackson down in the living room, hugging his own knees with his face shoved between them. "Jackson?" His blond head jerked up, wide eyes red and staring at Stiles, tears streaking his face. "Dude, what-"

"What do you want, Stilinski?" He curled up impossibly tighter.

Stiles descended and stood by the couch. "Wanted to know why you left the bro pile. Shit's getting intimate up there." At Jackson's confused look, Stiles grinned impishly. "Isaac is spooning Scott, complete with nuzzling and happy little wolf-noises." Jackson gave a choked laugh and swiped at his eyes. "Seriously, it's alarmingly cute. Like, your bed could probably give you diabetes now, you're welcome." He say next to Jackson, a little closer than Bro Law specifically allowed, but this was pack business. "You good?"

Jackson's eyes flashed blue and filled, but he looked away. "Yeah."

"Bullshit." Jackson looked at him in surprise. "I know the aftershocks of a nightmare when I see them." Jackson scowled and hugged his knees again, staring into the dark that wasn't dark to him. Stiles clapped a hand on his shoulder and left it there, thumb rubbing tiny circles. "Really, I'd be surprised if you weren't having some shit in your head after the last few months. God knows I've had some really hideous nightmares over less."

"Yeah, well." He leaned into Stiles' hand a little, happy of any touch.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Jackson's eyes flashed, over and over, and he grit his teeth. "No."

"Mkay." They were quiet for a minute, but Stiles never could take silence. "Y'know, wolves are tactile creatures. That's why the puppy pile upstairs. Closeness is especially important for healing."

"What, Stilinski, you want a snuggle?"

Stiles chuckled and gave a shrug. "Want you to have one. I mean, I'll give it to you if you'd prefer. I got nothing against some bro-cuddles."

Jackson stared at him, like he was assessing a threat. "Why."

Stiles shrugged again. "You need it." He wasn't looking at Jackson, so he felt rather than saw him shift on the couch, scooting until his side was pressed against Stiles'. Stiles gave it another second, and then Jackson was practically in his lap, face pressed into Stiles' neck. Stiles smiled a little, bringing his arms around to rub firm circles into Jackson's back.

"I still don't like you," Jackson told his neck.

"Okay."

"You just smell like pack right now, from upstairs and everything, so shut up."

"Okay." Jackson wrapped his arms around Stiles' shoulders, and Stiles went on, "This type of behavior is classified as tsundere in Japanese anime-"

"This is why I don't like you."