Jazzie's Notes: Hey guys! Not much I can really say for this other than I wanted to do a cute little pack fic for Teen Wolf. I've RP'd at a few TW forums and read tons of fics and thought why not contribute to the fandom? So yeah, here it is haha. I'm too tired to think of anything else to say.
I will be posting more TW one shots with a few well known tropes just to get back into the feel of writing. Um, I am willing to take prompts so just message me or leave a prompt in your review! :)
That's all from me for now so enjoy the story! It's unbeta'd so beware!
The Wolf Conspiracy
"Uh, does dad know that it's just the three of us?" Isaac mumbled while staring wide eyed – at least Stiles assumed he was wide eyed, it was hard to tell with those damn sunglasses – at their new home.
Stiles shuffled up behind him, clicking his tongue in disapproval. "I have no idea but I'm more concerned with the off road path through the woods to get here. Total nightmare fuel if I've ever seen one."
The both of them stared at their house; it was bigger than their last home. Four bedrooms, two baths, spacious living room and kitchen, the works. It even had a porch that wrapped around the house; it was just visually eye pleasing all over.
The house in South Carolina couldn't even compare to this absolute dream.
"I'm just glad that they cleared out the area around the house." Isaac said suddenly, shifting on his feet with his duffle bag on his shoulder. "I won't have to worry about a tree reaching into my room or crushing the house."
Stiles made a choking noise in the back of his throat, "That's the last time we watch The Poltergeist before bed, brother of mine." He reaches out and ruffles Isaac's hair, and yeah, it is a bit of a stretch because Isaac is a giant at 6'1''. Not to say Stiles is any kinds of short, he's 5'11'' a perfectly respectable height, thank you very much.
Just then the new Sheriff of Beacon Hills, John Stilinski, also known as their father walks out of the house smiling with his arms spread wide. "So? What's the verdict?" he asks.
Isaac smiles, pulling off his shades and stuffing them in his pocket. "It's pretty awesome, dad." he says while jogging up the porch steps.
"In a completely creepy murder house way," Stiles adds his two cents while looking around and had to at least give it to the landscaping people or whoever. Mostly because you could clearly see down the dirt path and they weren't too far away where you couldn't hear or partially see the main road so it was all good.
When Stiles finally collapses onto his bed, which is totally on the floor because his frame is done for, he aches all over from unpacking and taking things up and down the stairs. The movers totally just brought in their crap and piled it on the main floor and then rolled out. Damn them.
There is some shuffling outside his door then a thump and a "Fuck!" before his door is thrown open by a sweating, tired-looking, half-naked Isaac. He seems to be missing his shirt and had long ago changed into a pair of sweat pants.
"Watch your mouth, Stiles!" John calls from somewhere downstairs or he could be down the hall but Stiles isn't thinking of that because he's too busy sputtering defensively while betrayal licks up his veins.
"That was Isaac, not me! What the hey, dad!" he shouts, getting up and shoving his brother out the way to pop his head into the hall – looking around wildly. "You only have two sons and you are constantly mixing us up, I think that's a sign or something."
Isaac decides to chime in, "What the hey?"
"Oh, shut up. We both have watched entirely too much Adventure Time to be judging each other." Stiles muttered, turning to see Isaac sprawled across his bed which is severely lacking sheets and pillows.
Isaac grunts, rolling over onto his belly and folding his arms under his head and totally rubbing his armpits all over the mattress.
What an asshole.
Then he realizes that Isaac is still sweaty… on his bed. Like, there is now Isaac sweat…on his bed. No. Nope, he isn't saying anything, nothing at all. It's too late for any of this and one of them still has to brave the shower first. Stiles has been procrastinating the whole time so he isn't the first in, it could be a death trap and he very much likes living right now.
Somewhere around the time when Stiles stepped out of his jeans to tromp around his room in his boxers and rustling up a single thin blanket and pillow Isaac checks out. He's there on Stiles' bed snoring softly on his belly with his face mashed into the crease of his elbow. He stares at Isaac for the better part of five minutes with an entirely blank face.
Just, what?
He really is too tired for this so he turns off the lamp on his dresser and flops onto the bed. Isaac snuffles in his sleep and as if sensing the extra body latches onto Stiles immediately. Of course Stiles is already familiar with this tendency, Isaac had a rough childhood before John adopted him. He's slept with Stiles before when he didn't have a bed of his own and still did it from time to time afterward.
Stiles bumps hips with the other sleeping teen to get him to room over and acquire more room on the bed. There is more shifting around for the two before all grows quiet in the room.
The next day everyone wakes up late, everyone, which includes their dad. It's pretty epic and a teeny bit scary because the Sheriff never sleeps in. Alarm clocks weren't unpacked the night before so it's well past noon when the house comes back to life.
Stiles would have slept more had Isaac not rolled on top of him and he hadn't almost swallowed some of his curly hair.
He instantly started flailing, smacking Isaac in the face who yelped loudly and rolled onto the floor where he landed on Stiles' computer charger – that had him howling.
John was down the hall and throwing open Stiles' bedroom door in a manner of seconds with his gun out – just where the hell did he pull that from? – and looking for any possible threats. What he got was an eyeful of Stiles choking on a hair ball and Isaac rolling around on the floor with a plug jammed into his ribs.
How was this any of their lives? What a wake-up call.
Breakfast consists of toast with jelly, coffee, and last night's chicken fried rice. Stiles doesn't even have the heart to berate his dad about his eating habits…or Isaac's for that matter. The latter of the two will actually listen to Stiles when he tells them they all should eat healthier. Well, he'll listen as long as Stiles supplies him with cabbage every now and then. That boy had an unusual, unhealthy obsession with cabbage. Stiles really doesn't like to talk about it. Like, at all. Z
"So…are we in trouble for skipping school?" Isaac asked, throwing his question into the silence of the kitchen then retreating behind his cup of fruit juice.
John opens his mouth to reply only to be cut off by Stiles; "Only if dad gets in trouble for skipping out on work." he says then slurps his juice obnoxiously only to choke on it moments later in what everyone present will believe to be immediate karma.
Stiles snorts into his Cheerios with chocolate milk and John bemoans about the ostensible joys of being a parent to two knuckleheaded teenage boys.
….
Stiles and Isaac get to school sometime around the latter half of the last lunch shift. That's when they meet Erica. They both have the same lunch - thank the Powers that Be for that small joy - and were conversing – more like squealing like the teenage girls they became when excited – about their luck when cat calls and wolf whistles echoed around them.
Both of them turned their heads toward the entrance to see a blonde-haired girl with red lips in a mini skirt and leather jacket saunter into the cafeteria. Isaac's mouth dropped open and Stiles' eyes bugged out. She's also got a pair of deadly stilettos on that Stiles is sure the cheerleaders at the next table are going mad over.
"Uh, dude," Stiles mumbled, hitting Isaac on the shoulder when he started drooling just a bit.
Isaac is so gone he doesn't reply. And when the blonde passes their table, making eye contact with his brother and winking; Stiles is sure Isaac just about creams his pants.
And then there's an arm curling across the blonde's hips that most certainly is NOT feminine in the least. The arm belongs to the silently glaring brown-skinned teen that the object of Isaac's affections just pranced over too. Stiles can practically hear his brother's face and heart crack then shatter into a million pieces.
Well, shit.
...
Somewhere after pulling Isaac and his broken heart together, tackling the book switch at their lockers and navigating the halls to Chemistry, Stiles met Scott. Well, more like met up with an old friend.
