Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or it's characters
It felt like an explosion, all the pent up emotions towards him finally breaking out in the kiss. He tangled his hand into Stiles' hair, sighing contently into his lips.
It was perfect.
Uncoordinated, probably using too much tongue, teeth clattering-ly perfect.
Until Stiles abruptly pulled away.
Scott frowned at the loss, but more concerned about the boy in front of him. His features has suddenly turned darker, and his skin paler. His grip in Stiles' hair slacked as the boy smirked, and his arm dropped completely.
"Oh, Scott." The voice was harsh, yet soft, and Scott knew straight away the person in front of him wasn't the boy he fell in love with. "You really have to learn not to trust a fox." The comment was like a stab in the heart, and the smirk that formed on Stiles', if he could even say that was who was standing in front of him, lips was like the twist of the blade.
"Stiles?" Scott's voice came out as broken whisper, cracking towards the end.
The smirk became wider, and a hand was on the back of Scott's neck, pulling him closer to 'Stiles'. His lips brushed his ear as he whispered; "Stiles died, Scott." The voice was sing-songy. "You killed the wrong one."
When Stiles pulled away, the hand slipping onto Scott's shoulder, Scott couldn't help the broken "No" that escaped his lips, expression a mixture of hurt, confusion and pain. Immense pain. "This isn't funny, Stiles." Scott tried to say, but it came out no louder than a whisper, breaking in all the wrong places, showing just how broken Scott McCall was becoming at this revelation.
"No!" 'Stiles' almost shouted, the single syllable like a bullet going straight through Scott. "It's hilarious. " He leant forward to Scott's face as he said 'hilarious', pulling away after, patting his shoulder. Scott couldn't help the flashback that flashed through his mind of when the Nogitsune had twisted he blade in in stomach, taking his pain as it did so.
Scott drags his vision to the hand on his shoulder, whispering broken nos, over and over.
The thing in front of him huffs a laugh, so bitter and harsh it makes Scott scrunch his eyes together, wincing. "Yes, Scott." There it was again. That damn singsong tone. "You killed your best friend."
Scott shakes his head, the nos becoming louder. The hand grabs his face, forcing him to look at Stiles, as Stiles brings his face inches from Scott's.
"We're tricksters, see?" The words were knives, stabbing Scott with each one, and he wanted to drop to the floor and cry right there, uncaring for who sees. "We trick people. And boy did I trick you."
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