Notes: The NC-17 rating rings true for this chapter. I appreciate all the comments I've received, I'm glad you like the fic so far! Thanks for reading, as always. Much appreciated. Comments and opinions are welcome as well :)

Chapter 3: Priorities

It's a complete and utter myth that werewolves can't get cold, they're still part human after all. It's more like now he just doesn't feel changes in temperature all that often but when he does, it's intense. Just like loud noises to his werewolf hearing makes him feel like his eardrums are going to explode, or when he can smell things he wishes he couldn't. And even though his body can adjust to changes in temperature, it always seems to take longer than he expects. His body had been cold to the very bone for hours after he had plunged into an ice bath to try and save Erica and Boyd. Pulling himself from a cold pool to rush back to his room half naked, laughing in-between Scott pressing his body against his and stealing kisses when he can seems to be no exception.

Isaac shivers wordlessly as Scott disappears into his motel room bathroom to grab a few towels that were provided on the sink so they could dry themselves off. He moves to him first, not worrying about himself or that he's dripping all over the carpet as he wraps a big, fluffy towel around Isaac's shoulders. He smiles softly as Scott rubs his hands over his arms, trying to create friction and warmth between his skin and the towel before gently kissing his collarbone.

"See? Wasn't so bad." He smirks, looking up at him.

Isaac groans. "Speak for yourself; I think I have frost forming in my hair."

Scott laughs and pulls back to pick up his own towel off the bed, pointing with an amused smile to the pink flamingo emblem that has black 'LP' block letters over the bird in the corner of the towel.

"Hey, at least I wasn't asking you to crawl into a tub full of ice, alright? I call that progress."

"Call it whatever you want, I'm still freezing."

"I can see that," Scott says softly, taking a step forward to grasp Isaac's arms in his hands again, he slowly works the palms of his hands over the towel covering his skin. He rubs up and down, his eyes flickering up to look into Isaac's. He leans up on his toes to kiss his shoulder, his lips working their way up his neck as his hands continuously stroke his arms. "Any better?" He breathes out, his warm breath tickling his skin.

His entire frame gives a careless shudder; he can feel Scott smile against his throat. Isaac lets out a soft sigh before leaning his body into the other's administrations. He knows exactly what Scott is doing and doesn't hesitate a second to play along.

"A little." His teeth clamp down on his lower lip.

Scott hums low in his throat, the sound waves vibrating straight through to his groin. "You're shaking." He comments, his hands slipping under the towel wrapped around Isaac's shoulders to feel his skin; his nails scrape his sides before pressing into the muscles of his back.

Droplets of water are still hugging his curls; he can feel them drip onto his cheeks and shoulders. He can't seem to stop the shivers that are wracking his frame, like a pulse is being sent to his muscles and bones from his core. Though, at this point, he's pretty sure it's not from being cold…and it's more than obvious that Scott seems to be picking up on that.

"We need to warm you up," The shorter says, his hands gripping both of his sides. He pushes him gently backwards. "Wouldn't want you to catch a cold." He smirks.

Isaac smiles slowly and licks his lips before shaking his head. "Scott, I know you're not exactly a 'how to' expert on being a werewolf but…do I have to remind you that werewolves don't get sick?"

He feels the edge of the bed hit the back of his knees, his body folding back against the bedspread. Scott kneels between his legs, hovering over his body, leaning down until their chests touch and his lips kiss along his sternum.

Sharp pangs of want, need and arousal assault Isaac's senses. "Well, I don't think I'm willing to take that chance." Scott's tongue sneaks out and kitten licks his nipple before he grinds his hips down. Isaac hisses from the contact of the cold and damp boxer briefs material against his skin but his stomach knots with heat. "Are you?"

Isaac is about to respond but is cut off with a harsh kiss. Out of all the things Scott can be, this is something that continues to catch him by surprise. The first time they had fooled around, Scott was more like himself; he was calm, heartbeat steady, making sure he was as gentle with Isaac as he needed to be. It wasn't until the sheets were damp with sweat and cum that Isaac muttered 'you don't have to be careful, I'm not going to shatter into a million pieces. You can touch me like you mean it, you know'.

And while Scott is kind, sweet, easily caught up in the emotions of others and quick to forget his own, while he's gentle and soft with his words—it seems like all of that can buckle into his chest and his own wolf inside of him soaks up those emotions to release more animalistic ones when he's turned on.

This time is no different.

His kisses are rough, all teeth and tongue, his hands travel over Isaac's body to grab and knead at his skin, his heartbeat is pounding wildly against his ribcage and he can feel the exertion of breaths he's taking as his chest slides against his own with every intake of air into his lungs. Isaac gasps as Scott's hand travels down his chest and sneaks behind the band of his boxers, slowly stroking his half-hardening cock. His eyes shoot open and bleed gold, the wolf growling behind his sternum and scratching its claws against his ribcage.

"Shh," Scott lowers his mouth to his ear, kisses below it, like he can tell Isaac is on the brink of losing control.

He's not exactly sure how he's supposed to relax with Scott's warm body on top of his, giving off heat like a fucking furnace, and not to mention he's got strong fingers wrapped around his dick. But he slowly does so, at least the wolf part of him listens, and his eyes return back to that stormy blue as he's grounded, anchored back into place.

Isaac's fingers fumble as they reach under Scott to yank down the other's briefs, his cock hanging heavy above his stomach now, balls still trapped behind the elastic material. Scott squeezes his eyes closed, hand stilling on Isaac's cock a moment as the taller gets his hand around him, strokes long and slow, a guttural sound exiting Scott's throat at the sensation. Scott uses his other hand to even the playing field, tugging down Isaac's boxer briefs and exposing him to the coolness of the room. Isaac's hips jerk up into him, nearly knocking him off balance and making Scott chuckle before joining their lips in a fast kiss, his tongue sliding into the other's mouth. The hand that isn't wrapped around his cock grips his hip bone, fingers imprinting brief marks into his skin.

He can feel pleasure coiling and knotting hotly in his lower belly, hips jerking up into Scott so that their cocks slide together. Isaac moans loudly, his teeth digging into his lower lip as the other pulls back softly to place open mouthed kisses on his neck. He sucks hickies into his skin, purple and blue disappearing moments after the marks are placed into his pores. Scott's hand seems smaller than his when their fingers are wrapped around one another's, lacing together as they rest on Isaac's thigh or swinging between them as they walk. But apparently he's misinterpreted the size because his eyes nearly roll back into his fucking head as he feels Scott's hand wrap around both of their cocks easily. His hard on twitches in his grasp and against the other's dick, precum leaking from his head and rolling down his length to help Scott stroke them off together.

Isaac's back arches, his throat exposed, which Scott wastes no time to dive his nose into, obviously scenting him.

The sensation tickles a little and Isaac finds himself chuckling even though all his body wants to do is groan as Scott quickens his movements on their cocks. "What are you doing?"

"You smell good." Scott whispers, his voice has streaks of pure pleasure in it.

He can't imagine how, he most likely reeks of sweat, bits of cologne that has managed to stick in his pores, and chlorine but it's probably the emotions Scott is picking up on instead. Piquant arousal and want and the appealing sweetness of happiness. His nose falls into the corners of Isaac's neck, tongue jutting out to lick a stripe into the dip of his collar bone.

Isaac's hands move to trail down Scott's back, nails digging into his skin hard enough to leave little red marks of ownership that he wishes wouldn't heal right away as Scott jerks his hips forward, sliding his cock slickly against Isaac's. He's not going to last much longer, there's too much sensory input all at once and it's knocking his body into overdrive. It's all coming to a peak; Scott's body hovering over him, the smell of sweat, arousal and something simply Scott (earthy and warm) on his skin, his hands gripping him, nails digging into his hip as the other slides their cocks together, pausing every so often to stroke his thumb over their heads, his lips working their way over his throat and jawline and his lips, teeth digging into his lower lip—

his pulse is thrumming in his neck, Scott can probably hear the beats and feel his heart pound against his ribs, his hands fall to his sides, claws making their appearance and tearing through the cheap fabric of the motel sheets.

"Scott—" Isaac tries to warn him and Scott just smirks against his lips and merely quickens his hand movements, twisting his wrist and he cums. Hard.

A sharp pleasured sensation travels up his spine, rests warmly in his belly, soothes frayed nerve endings as strings of white coat Scott's stomach and his fist. His thoughts are hazy, his eyes seeing black dots; he can distinctly hear the upbeat of the shorter's heart as he reaches the edge and orgasms just as hard, feels the combination of their cum drip onto his stomach.

Isaac trails his fingers down Scott's back as the other rests his forehead against his shoulder, his breath still coming out in heavy pants against his skin, seeping into him. He can feel Scott's legs shaking, wanting to just collapse on Isaac after exerting himself but holds back, not wanting to make any more of a mess that's already between them as their cocks soften.

He turns his head and gently kisses Scott's jaw, smiling softly when the other pulls back to press their foreheads together, joining their lips in a soft breathy kiss. Isaac feels the mattress shift as Scott finally manages to get out of bed, going to the bathroom to grab something to clean them both up.

Isaac is just happy that he doesn't bother to pull on his boxer briefs to do it.

0o0o0o0o

They're both quiet after they clean themselves up and get back into bed, the sheets cool and welcoming to the heat of their bodies. Regardless, Scott winds his arm around Isaac's shoulders and pulls him into his chest. He's on his back but doesn't resist when he feels his arm wrap around him, Isaac's body folding like a house of cards as he turns to bury his face in the crook of the boy's neck. He breathes him in, his nose gently grazing against the pulse point, Scott's palm pressing against his spine. His thumb traces circles into the spaces between the bones of his spine and Isaac lets out a long breath, the air bouncing off of Scott's neck to kiss the skin of his face.

He craves moments like this, when its calm, when all that encompasses them is the sound of their heartbeats and oxygen converting in and out of their lungs. Isaac wants to memorize them, store them in the back of his mind when he needs them the most, the small content sounds vibrating in Scott's chest as his hand moves from his back to run through the curls in his hair, or the warmth between their skin where the parts of their bodies are pressed together.

"You're much warmer now," Scott speaks against the skin of his forehead, then smiles. "Think I'm satisfied you won't get sick."

Isaac laughs, the sound streaked with exhaustion. "So glad you're sated."

Scott smirks and hums low in his chest, fingers moving from Isaac's hair to play with a few curls at the nape of his neck. Isaac rests his arm along the other's waist, squeezes softly before closing his eyes, falling into the sensation of Scott twisting his hair gently near the top of his spine. He knows he'll have to get up soon, he has no idea what time it is but that Scott can't stay or fall asleep here, that he has to wake up next to his ex-girlfriend.

And something blooms in his chest without his permission, tangible envy as green as the artificial leaves of those stupid palm trees by the pool. Scott feels it, tenses underneath Isaac, and for fucks sake can't he get a moment alone with his emotions? He says nothing, probably has no idea what to say anyways and the apprehensiveness doesn't leave the male's shoulders even though he's stroking Isaac's back now.

He wants to ask what this is, what is actually going on between them, if it's more than just quick kisses and a pack mentality of protectiveness or if it's just whispers in dark places that the moon can't touch and satisfying orgasms without the mess of a relationship. Scott doesn't seem like the type who would fool around without some sort of intent, without an endgame, but Isaac finds himself grasping at straws. This is new for the both of them and he just doesn't know. And he's too afraid to ask in risk of losing whatever he has going on.

Because this, this is good, even if it's undefined. Isaac doesn't need any help losing things that are good for him so he shuts his mouth when it opens to speak and closes his eyes again, pressing his nose into the skin of Scott's neck.

And even though he tries to resist it for just a bit longer, Isaac falls asleep to the hum of the air conditioning, the steady beating of Scott's heart and the warmth and contentedness flowing off of the other's body.

No nightmares visit him this time.

When he wakes up Scott isn't there, the bed is cold and there is an imprint from where his head had been resting in the pillow next to Isaac's face. He sighs and trails his hand down the space next to him, gathering the sheets between his fingers and squeezing for a long moment before letting go. He must have slept like the dead because usually he's a light sleeper and would have felt when Scott pulled away, out of bed to head back to his and Allison's room before she woke up. He grunts and shuts his eyes against the ray of sun streaming in through the window, flecks of dust dancing lightly in the trail of daylight as it covers his skin and most of the bed. Isaac shifts to his right, burying his face in the pillow to pick up hints of Scott's shampoo, chlorine and fabric softener.

He doesn't want to get up, is purely satisfied with the idea of burrowing into Scott's scent left behind on the sheets and pillow, staving off the inevitable talk that they need to have about what this is and where it leaves them, not to mention the constant state of ever impending death left behind in Beacon Hills—

but a knock on his door pulls him from bed and he opens it to find a too-awake Scott for this early in the morning.

Isaac blinks sleepily against the morning light, rubbing his eyes with his fists until he feels like he can see properly. Scott makes a noise in his throat and wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him closer until he can lean up and kiss his forehead.

"Morning sunshine."

Isaac rolls his eyes. "You're too chipper for seven AM."

Scott grins. "Seven AM and I'm already receiving compliments." He pulls back and sticks his hands in his pockets. "We're leaving in ten so get ready."

"One more day on the road for this cabin, think it's worth it?" He asks, thinking about how he has to cram himself and his long limbs into the back of that jeep or try not to kill Scott's ex-girlfriend for giving him small smiles and batting her eyelashes at him.

"Anything that's worth it isn't easy." Scott says and Isaac knows he's not just talking about the roadtrip.

0o0o0o0o0

They go back to the diner for breakfast, even though it's backtracking, before hitting the road again. Stiles thinks it's a good idea because they already know what's on the menu and this way they don't have to search for some place to eat later on in the day. Scott is seated next to him, Allison on the other side as Scott is squished in the middle of them (the irony of the seating arrangements isn't lost on him) and it's like his body is hypersensitive to every move the male is making. He feels the gentle brushes of his shoulder against his own, the way Scott moves his foot over to run alongside his shin and the small smiles he gives him when he glances in his direction. If Allison or anyone else at the table notices, no one says anything.

Everyone is tired, Isaac can see it in their eyes and he even offers to drive the jeep so Stiles can get more sleep as he shovels a forkful of pancakes into his mouth.

"I don't trust you driving my baby."

"Stiles." Scott laughs, his voice slightly scolding, like he can't believe Isaac hasn't earned a certain amount of trust from his best friend already after what they've been through together.

"I'm an excellent driver." Isaac grins, elbowing Scott in his side and making him chuckle.

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Alright, Rain Man regardless of your driving skills or lack thereof, you don't know how to get to the cabin."

"I can direct him," Scott offers, "I've been there just as many times as you have."

"That's debatable."

Scott smirks and shakes his head. "Stiles, you're like falling asleep in your eggs. Just let him drive."

"Stupid werewolf boyfriends." Stiles mutters, low in his throat, barely audible enough that only Scott and Isaac can hear him.

Isaac's heart skips a beat; the smile fades from Scott's face.

He doesn't know what it means.

0o0o0o0o0

It's nearly one in the afternoon before Scott convinces him to pull into a rest stop. Driving is helping him keep random thoughts from assaulting his brain; things he doesn't want to think about. Like Scott's smile fading at breakfast, and the way he stops giving him little touches and smiles, and the ache in his chest that feels like a black hole sucking his ribs right out of his body because he doesn't understand what happened.

Had Stiles' comment really gotten to him so easily? And was the comment so awful that it sparked that sort of reaction from Scott?

He's thinking about too many things, and driving on top of it, and the open road and cracked windows blowing a soft cool breeze into the interior of the car seems to settle him and calm his wolf. Keeps him from snapping at Scott every time he suggests they stop or directs him down the road because he doesn't know where he's going.

He never thought he'd say it but he's actually getting tired of the not knowing or understanding aspects of his life. And that has nothing to do with driving.

They don't talk as he drives, unless Scott has to iron out directions for upcoming miles. Allison is listening to her iPod in the back, Isaac can hear the upbeat clangs and guitar solos, Stiles is fast asleep behind him, nearly drooling on Lydia's shoulder as she glares a hole in the windshield…but makes no move to shove him off of her. The silence isn't welcome this time, he knows Scott can sense the palpable confusion and how uncomfortable he is but unlike other times his hands stay on his thighs and don't move an inch to offer Isaac any source of comfort.

Hurt blossoms in his chest, probably smells like burnt wood or plastic, and huffs out an annoyed sigh as he pulls into the rest stop.

"We needed gas anyways." Scott tells him, unbuckling his seat belt.

Isaac makes a non-committable noise and gets out of the jeep, pocketing the keys before stretching his arms over his head. Even though he's been trapped with his thoughts to keep him company in the silence of the jeep for the past few hours, ironically the last thing he wants to do is talk to Scott. So before the other can snag his attention he disappears into the small convenient store to pay for a tank of gas and grab a few snacks.

His fingers curl around a bag of Doritos and he can smell her before she actually makes it into his line of vision; pure vanilla and distinct pine, that lingering scent of Scott that makes his stomach clench painfully.

"Did you know that there are enough preservatives in a bag of Doritos to mummify a small dog?"

Isaac sighs; so not only has Allison managed to contribute to Scott's need to press pause on whatever it is he and Isaac are doing, she effectively ruins his taste for one of his favorite chips. How charming. He still grabs the bag of chips out of spite.

He turns his head to look at her. "Hello to you too Allison." He manages a smile when the edges of her lips tug into a similar expression.

Allison curls her short hair around her ear, fingering a pack of Cheetos before picking them up. "Everyone sort of got out to stretch, you'll probably be able to give up driving." She offers, like sticking him in the back between her and Scott again is some sort of gift. "Stiles wants to drive again. Well…more like Lydia is forcing him to because if he drools on her shoulder again she's going to force him to pay the dry cleaning bill for her dress." She laughs, the sound light and pleasing against his ears.

He hates it.

"Did you need something?" He asks, confused as to why she's talking to him. Not that they're exactly enemies anymore but they're not friends either. And he doesn't know why she's suddenly coming up to him and engaging in conversation when it's not needed. It's civil, sure, and he doesn't mind but there's something else to this and he thinks he knows what it is.

"Are we okay?" She shifts her body to look at him, her face tired but her eyes alert, like she's trying to take mental notes on his expression. "I just…you give me these looks sometimes. Like you're angry," Allison frowns. "I thought we were okay, that you had forgiven me for what I did to you?"

He remembers the conversation they had in the closet at school, where he had pointed out that the last thing on his list of importance was her happiness, that she had purposely stabbed him twenty times with knives but that she had offered an apology and he had more or less taken it.

"Can I ask you something?" Isaac licks his lips and turns to face her too; he's got more than a head's height on her so he tilts his chin down slightly. "No offense but I highly doubt me forgiving you is going to make or break how you live the rest of your life so why is it so important?"

His question obviously throws her off and Allison hesitates of a moment, wrapping her arms around herself. She looks uncomfortable and something bubbles in his belly; nerves wrapping around his ribcage and squeezing his heart in his chest. He wonders if he and Scott have been too obvious in what they've been doing. It's not exactly hard to see that something has shifted between them, that they've become closer. That Scott touches him in a way that should seem more than it is, that Isaac smiles at him when he thinks no one is looking like Scott emulates fucking warmth and sunshine and puppies.

He's stuck between conflicting emotions because if Allison has noticed...on the one hand, he's relieved. He hates sneaking around even though a gray area is comforting and safe but on the other hand he doesn't want Scott to pull away, to regret what they've done because he's not ready to be something and he might never be.

"Because…" She licks her lips and looks up at him, like she's still contemplating whether or not she should say it. "I'm trying to mend bridges with him," She's trying to get back together with him, is what she's saying in the spaces between her words, "And to do that I don't want there to be any animosity between us…"

Isaac frowns; he gets what she's trying to do but he can't seem to connect the dots. But why come to him and make sure that they're okay? What does that have to do with her and Scott?

The question 'why' is on his lips but she answers him before he can speak. "You matter to Scott. How you feel is important to him."

He's suddenly very glad that Allison isn't a werewolf because his heart, the betrayer of an organ, is beating a mile a minute at the omission. It's something he obviously knows but hearing it out loud is somehow different, like it's a confirmation he's been waiting to receive.

She wrings her fingers together, making the bag of chips between her hands crackle. "And Scott is important to me." She says softly, like that explains everything…and oddly enough, it sort of does.

It's not so much that she feels bad she stabbed Isaac with a bunch of knives (sorry, Chinese Ring Daggers) but that Scott cares and she cares that Scott cares, and for anything to bloom between the old lovers Scott has to feel okay about the relationship between him and Allison. Great.

He wants to be selfish, tell her that no they're not okay and he's not sure they will be. He wants to hold a grudge, wants to make it difficult for Allison to take Scott back even though she's hiding behind the ruse that she just wants to rebuild burnt bridges, that they can't be together now but someday, but he can't. Because if he does that and Scott finds out the only person he'll be hurting is someone he really cares about.

So he smiles softly, pretends like his heart isn't in his throat and nods his head. "We're fine." He assures her and clears his throat so he doesn't sound choked. "I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that we weren't." Because they aren't, not really, and even though Allison might not know they obviously want the same thing.

He really has to start controlling his facial expressions.

0o0o0o0o0o

By the time Isaac leaves the convenient store, Allison has retreated to the bathrooms with Lydia and Stiles is standing by his jeep filling up the tank. He glances to his right to see Scott seated at one of the picnic tables placed strategically outside the store, texting someone on his phone—probably his mother to assure her that they're fine and almost to the cabin. He hesitates, not sure if he should head over or not—and he hates that, he hates that Scott has become someone unapproachable in his eyes. He's about to head back to the jeep but the other looks up from the table and gives him a small smile and he can't avoid him now.

He sits down and pushes a cup of coffee towards him. "Got you this," He says, running a hand through his curls. "It's probably burnt but there's cinnamon in it like you like it."

Scott smiles softly and wraps his hands around the cup. "Thanks."

Isaac glances around to see Stiles at his jeep, playing on his phone, not that he's so worried if he sees them because he already knows something is going on. He listens carefully and picks up the girls' voices in the bathroom, giggling and joking and taking their time reapplying makeup even though they're not going anywhere but into another three to four hour drive.

"I heard you talking to Allison." Scott says before Isaac can even work on forming the words he wants to say in this short amount of alone time that they have.

He probably looks like a fucking goldfish opening and closing his mouth like that.

"She's right you know, you are important to me." He takes his one hand off the coffee and entangles his digits with Isaac's, the pads of his fingers and palm of his hand are heated significantly from being pressed against the hot liquid in the cup.

Isaac chokes against the response he wants to come out of his mouth but says instead, "Well I'm glad you feel something for the person who is willing to make all the midnight taco runs."

Scott laughs and shakes his head, squeezing Isaac's hand as he looks down at the table. He can feel the vibration of the shorter's laugh while holding onto his hand, his stomach fluttering ridiculously at such a simple action. There has to be a balance, though, to this conversation. He can feel it coming, feel the but starting to form on Scott's tongue…because all in all, his smile still dropped after Stiles' comment and that has to mean something.

Regardless of how much Isaac doesn't want it to.

When Scott looks up at Isaac again his face is serious, his thumb rubbing the web of skin between his pointer finger and thumb. He sighs, looks out at the parking lot like the last thing he wants to be doing is having this conversation but the inevitable action of the other shoe dropping is something Isaac is always expecting.

"What Stiles said it just...really made me realize, I think that's the problem sometimes." Isaac isn't following but he's quiet and waits for Scott to continue. "When I was with Allison I fell hard and I fell fast. She was the most important thing to me compared to anything else."

Isaac's eyes search Scott's brown ones, memorizes the light hues of caramel colors mixing with ground coffee. Understanding slowly clicks into place as he feels Scott's thumb run over his own, the shorter breaking eye contact and looking at the picnic table. That hero complex is shining bright and true like armor resting on Scott's shoulders; the necessity to make sure he's there for anyone who might need him, uninterrupted, the urge to save everyone in spite of himself and his relationships. Always trying to do the right thing; no matter what. Like if he tries hard enough the sheer action of it will mean that everything will work out in the end.

"And I'm just afraid that...with this alpha pack and the Darach…I'm afraid my priorities aren't going to be what they need to be."

The unspoken end to that sentence 'if you're involved' hangs in the air between them, soaks into Isaac's lungs and stings the pink flesh, burning him from the inside out. He doesn't really feel like Scott has to explain any further, he gets it, he's scared that whatever is happening between them will become the same thing. That it'll be a distraction; that people could get hurt because of it. He wants to assure him that that won't happen, that it'll be different, that he can protect himself and Scott doesn't have to worry about him— because the last thing Scott needs, to be concerned about protecting someone else when he already tries to stack the world's hopeless on his shoulders.

But he can't be sure, because if anything, how much Scott cares for the people he loves is extremely predictable. It's something that can too easily be used against him and Isaac doesn't want to become a liability.

"We can try." Isaac says, because that seems to be the only thing he can offer.

Scott smiles, his eyes hopeful but not completely convinced. "We can try." He repeats, kissing his hand before standing with his coffee.