Isaac followed Scott out into the cool autumn air, watching intently as Scott mounted his motorcycle at the curb. He couldn't exactly pinpoint it yet, but a part of him needed to join Scott on his late night food run - and the strange feeling was beside the fact that he hadn't eaten since lunch.
"Hop on," Scott called out, patting the back half of the leather seat and glancing up at Isaac.
He followed accordingly and mounted the bike, his blue eyes falling to Scott's waist just a few inches away from his own body. He suddenly felt his entire face begin to rapidly heat up, his heart beat quickening. He prayed Scott wouldn't be able to detect this slight shift in mood.
"You don't need a helmet do you?" Scott asked as he slipped his own over his head.
Isaac cleared his throat before answering. "Uh no, I'll be fine."
Scott placed his key in the ignition and the bike roared to life in the night air. "Okay, well hold on then, the restaurant's just a few blocks away."
Isaac drew out a shaky breath, thanking any and all gods for the noise that masked his thundering heart. Hesitantly, he wrapped his leather clad arms around Scott's waist, inching just a little bit closer to him.
The two whizzed through the darkened streets of Beacon Hills, the roar of the engine piercing the night air. The ride gave Isaac a chance to mull over his feelings: namely, his feelings for Scott. Or could he even call them feelings? He wasn't even sure. He just trusted him - more than he's trusted anyone ever in his life. And he didn't even know why. Maybe it was because he was the only person he could actually relate to. Or maybe it was because Scott accepted him - he trusted him enough to talk about their newfound world, and even enough to allow him to live in his house until things got better. But whatever the reason, Isaac knew one thing: Scott was the only person he could rely on.
In a matter of minutes, they arrived at their destination: a modest looking Mexican restaurant with flashing neon lights and hardly any cars in the parking lot. Isaac unwrapped his arms from Scott's waist, hopping off the bike and making his way towards the double doors. Scott followed closely behind, hanging his helmet on one of the handlebars.
Isaac waited patiently by the door, opening it for Scott and gesturing with a slight head tilt for him to enter first. With an appreciative nod, the dark haired boy entered, the smell of Mexican spices and freshly made tacos and burritos overwhelming his senses. God, he was do damn hungry.
The pair fell in line behind a middle aged, brown haired man, their eyes scanning the menu fervently. "You were uh, grabbing onto my waist a little tightly back there," Scott joked, looking at his housemate.
Isaac could feel his pulse quicken, embarrassment flooding his system. "Yeah, I just haven't had the greatest experience with motorcycles." He directed his eyes to the tiled floors beneath his feet before looking back up at Scott again.
Scott nodded in understanding, knowing exactly what "experience" Isaac was referencing. A comfortable silence settled over them, and in a matter of minutes it was their turn to order.
They walked up to the lone cash register, Scott gesturing for Isaac to order first. "Hi, I'll have a chicken quesadilla please, extra guacamole."
"And I'll have a steak burrito please." Scott ordered next, the cashier rapidly tapping buttons on the screen.
"Okay that'll be $9.78." She looked up from her screen, eyeing the two boys in front of her.
Isaac reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, taking out his ragged leather wallet before Scott even had a chance to pull out the crumpled ten dollar bill in his jeans pocket. Scott eyed his blue eyed friend in confusion, but Isaac handed the cashier two crisp five dollar bills before explaining.
"You give me a ride, I pay for the food, simple as that." Isaac said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as he took a seat at one of the red cushioned booths by the windows.
Scott slid into the seat across from Isaac, shooting him a grateful smile. "Well thanks, I appreciate it." Feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, he unearthed his phone from his pocket and placed it on the table, the name Allison glowing on the screen. Scott let out a conflicted sigh, waiting for the phone to buzz a few times before finally pressing the "ignore" button.
"Trying to get your mind off her?" Isaac asked, his blue eyes catching the name on the screen.
"Yeah I just need to leave some space between us right now," Scott replied, wanting more than anything to pick up the phone and call her back. "But I guess it's pretty hard when I feel like there's nobody else out there for me."
"Well, maybe you just need to expand your horizons a little more." Isaac suggested, instantly wanting to pull back the words that just tumbled out of his mouth. Way to make it obvious, Isaac.
Scott stared at his friend, the implication of his words making the hairs on his arms rise. "Y-yeah, I probably should."
"Number 29, your order is ready," a monotone voice droned over the speakers, drawing both boys out of the silence. Scott leaped out of his seat, nearly sprinting to the counter to pick up their food.
The pair dug ravenously into their food, silencing their growling stomachs with pounds of fresh cooked tortillas, meat, and salsa. They sampled each other's meals, and within minutes their plates were cleaned off, not a scrape of food left on the table. After a few seconds of post meal silence, the two made their way outside.
"That was amazing," Isaac groaned as he sluggishly followed Scott to his motorbike.
"Yeah, we should do this more often," Scott flashed a bright smile at Isaac, grateful for his accompaniment.
Isaac felt his heart beat quicken for the second time, but quickly slowed it down to normal speed, not wanting to give any more away that night. "But next time Scott," Isaac began, masking his nervousness with a sly smile, "it's my turn to pick."