Not even a shower or the cold air outside is able to chill Scott's nerves. Even at school, he's still fuming, and when he runs into Stiles, of course, his best friend notices immediately.

"Wow, what got you so upset this morning?" he instantly starts his interrogation, catching up with Scott's quickened pace.

Scott doesn't grant him a look, because he knows that if he does, he'll break. Scott doesn't want that. He wants to stay angry. He doesn't want to feel like that worthless five year old child he used to be. He had moved past that and there's no way in hell he's going back.

"Scott?" Stiles makes another attempt to catch his friend's attention.

The guy ignores him, instead walking over to his locker. He rips it open with force, the door almost clanging against the metal of the locker next to it as the hinges squeak. Reaching inside, Scott takes out the books he needs for class, jamming them into his backpack with as much barbarity. He's about to turn around and walk away again, but this time Stiles grabs his arm.

"Scott!"

Stiles finally catches Scott's eye, and when Scott looks into Stiles' familiar light brown eyes, his throat closes up. Only then does he realise that his jaw is hurting from keeping it locked for such a long time and his head is pounding. A lump starts to form and Scott's Adam's apple moves up and down as he tries to swallow around it. Unfortunately, it's no use. Something inside him breaks and he exclaims a stifled sob, which he quickly tries to muffle by moving his hands in front of his mouth.

Stiles' grip moves from Scott's arm to his shoulder and he massages it softly. The lines in his face have hardened as he examines his friend worriedly.

"I talked to my dad," Scott chokes out.

He doesn't need to say anything else, because Stiles knows. He knows and sighs softly, not hesitating to pull his friend in for a tight hug. Scott sniffs, wiping his nose quickly. His chin rests on top of Stiles' shoulder. Their embrace lasts for a couple of seconds and Scott doesn't care about the concerned looks other students are giving them as they pass by. Right now, there's only his best friend trying to calm him down.

"When did he talk to you?" Stiles asks once they've let go of one another. He ruffles Scott's hair. "Last night? Because you look like you haven't slept at all."

Scott sniffs, averting his gaze towards the ground. "No. No, he told me this morning. But I also didn't sleep…because of Liam."

Stiles' eyebrows rise. "Liam? What happened with him?" The comforting hand is back on Scott's shoulder. "Dude, what has been going on with you?"

Scott snorts a little, wiping his nose again. "A lot, I guess."

He does his best to give Stiles a brief summary of the past twenty-four hours, aware that it has to be done before their classes start. Luckily, with Stiles, he only needs to give an outline of everything, because his friend knows him well enough to fill in the blanks himself.

They make it to their first period in time, choosing two seats at the back of the classroom and sitting next to each other.

"I think your mom kind of had a point, though," Stiles says when Scott finishes his story.

They take out their books and wait for the arrival of their teacher.

"What do you mean?" Scott asks, his eyes still a bit puffy. They're probably still red as well.

"About you getting more answers than you would expect," Stiles answers matter-of-factly.

Scott continues his confused look.

"Think about it," Stiles tries to further explain. "For all this time, you've been trying to help Liam. You've tried to give him options, solutions and all those things."

"Yeah…so?"

"So maybe he doesn't need all that," Stiles continues, hands gesturing at him wildly. "Maybe he just needs someone to hear him out."

"You're saying I just need to listen to him?" Scott asks.

Stiles nods. "I think that's what your mom meant. Sometimes you just need to listen to someone, like with your dad. I don't really think he told you so he could be forgiven. I think he just wanted you to know…"

"…Just like Liam wants me know when he's not doing okay," Scott voices the comparison.

"Exactly," Stiles says with a proud gleam in his eye. He shoots a brief wink.

Scott catches a loose thread on his jumper, twisting it around his finger. "Liam did say talking about it helped," he mumbles, a small smile pulling on the corners of his lips.

"See? So maybe you should go talk to him," Stiles points out. "But instead, you're going to let him do the talking."

Scott nods slowly before throwing him a grateful look. "Thanks, Stiles."

"Anytime, buddy."

That afternoon, at lacrosse practice, Scott can only describe Liam's appearance as beaten. Every time Scott catches sight of him, his shoulders are slumped down, his head falling forward to gaze at the ground. A few times Scott ponders going over to him, but the timing never feels right. Even back in the locker room Scott tries to be slow so he might be able to catch his friend when everyone has left.

In the meantime, Stiles doesn't let either of them out of his sight, but he knows better than to interfere. He wants to. Oh, he really wants to. He wants to grab both of them by the hair and yank their pretty little faces together, to demand them to stop being so self-pitying and so self-destructive. Because this isn't just about Liam anymore. No, this is about Scott as well. His best friend looks pale and there are purple bags under his eyes and Stiles is perfectly aware that it's because of all his worrying. As stated before, Scott cares too much. So much that it has gotten to that point where he forgets to take care of himself. Stiles hates that stage, but he realizes there's not much he can do about it. He can't force Scott to get some rest, can't force him to eat, and can't force him to stay healthy. No, these circumstances are psychosomatic and Stiles can only stand by and watch…and silently hope things are going to get better.

Scott shoots a probing gaze at Liam, but the boy seems to avoid it swiftly. When Liam exits the showers, Scott follows promptly, attempting to catch him by the wrist, but then remembers that there are still too many people who could overhear. Stupid made up privacy rule.

Liam seems to be trying to look busy as he puts on his clothes. He keeps pawing a hand through his hair, even though Scott thinks it looks fine. The boy keeps looking around himself casually, but somehow he manages to never even once look back at Scott. It's ridiculous. He isn't invisible now, is he?

When Liam shies away from Scott's penetrating stares for what seems like the hundredth time, it all clicks together: Liam feels guilty.

And there's nothing Scott can do about it.

That sense of helplessness remains until the evening. Scott decides not to have dinner, not only because he has completely lost his appetite, but also because his dad is there. His mom's working and Scott refuses to sit down with his father pretending like everything's alright. It's not alright. His anger might have subsided, but there's still a little pilot light inside him that's waiting to be fuelled.

Scott gets up from his bed. It's just past eight o'clock, and his ceiling seems not to have the answer. This is crazy. They need to talk. Liam needs him and, if anything, Scott needs him just as much. He likes Liam. He likes spending time with him, and even though most of that time is spent in the rain, Scott's skin craves the warmth of the sunshine that comes with Liam Dunbar's smile. His earlobes tingle as he recalls the faint memory of the sound of the boy's laughter in the café and the idiocy when Scott is being tactless. He likes that feeling the most; when he has subconsciously lightened the mood between them. When he has accidentally made Liam happy again. It's almost effortless; like chemistry.

He puts on his jacket and hurries out the door, just in time to avoid his dad's questions. His motorcycle is out on the curb and Scott gets on it, his helmet strapped tightly around his head. The grip he has on the handlebars is tight; persistent.

Apparently his sense of navigation is really strong, because he still remembers exactly where Liam lives, even though he has only been there twice. Adrenaline is pumping through his veins as he drives over to Liam's house, drawing steadily closer to his goal. That's why he needs Liam. Liam gives him an acute sense of purpose; a mental focus that Scott's existence isn't just the tip of a needle in that God forsaken galaxy. No, on the contrary, Scott is the galaxy. He's the sun. He's the planets, the moon, the darkness that embraces every atom, every chemical, and every chain reaction.

And he's determined to see the stars.

He arrives at the Dunbar household only minutes later, realising that such a timely arrival had to have broken at least a few speeding regulations. Oh well.

The garage door on the right side is open, Scott notices as he steps off his bike. After taking off his helmet, he sneaks a look inside.

"Scott?" Liam gasps when he catches the guy. He's standing next to his stepdad. There's also a bike that has been turned upside down.

Dr. Dunbar looks up. His hands are dirty from oiling the new chain and he throws a pleasantly surprised look in Scott's direction. He gets up.

"Hello," Scott greets them sheepishly. "Sorry to come around unannounced."

"That's fine. We actually just finished," Liam's stepdad dismisses his apology. He spins the pedals a couple of times and the back wheel starts rolling. "There, good as new," he says to Liam, but the pride in his voice makes it sound like it's more to himself. He wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand before turning back to Scott. "So you're Scott," he says, "I'd shake your hand, but, err…"

"That's alright," Scott smiles. "It's nice to meet you, Dr. Dunbar."

"It's nice to finally meet Liam's rival as well."

Scott's face twists and he tilts his head to the side a little.

"You're the captain of the lacrosse team, aren't you?" Dr. Dunbar verifies. "Liam mentioned he was quite impressed by you. Apparently he's gonna have to wait until you graduate before he can take your place."

Behind his stepdad, Liam's scratching his neck uncomfortably. His free hand has caught his elbow and he doesn't dare to look up. "I'm right here, you know..." he mumbles warningly.

"What? It's not a secret that you want to become captain, is it?"

Liam gives him a look, but Scott's face is full of amusement. He actually has to stifle a laugh.

Dr. Dunbar blinks a couple of times at his stepson, but then he shrugs. "Right then. Seems like I've said enough," he chuckles. "I'll leave you guys to it. Make yourself at home, Scott."

"Thank you, Dr. Dunbar."

The middle aged man smiles gently at him before moving to the back of the garage and through a door, which supposedly leads into the kitchen. He also seems to be taking the comfortable atmosphere with him, because when the door falls into its lock, Scott's suddenly aware of the cold air outside again. He walks up to Liam.

"So he finally fixed your bike, huh?" he asks, spinning the wheel once.

Liam nods quietly, still scratching his neck. Scott's worried he'll rip his skin apart if he does it for much longer.

"What, err… What are you doing here?" Liam wonders with a strained voice.

"I wanted to talk about what happened yesterday," Scott answers in all honesty. He takes another step forward. "Well, actually, I wanted you to talk about it."

Liam's brow furrows and he shuffles backwards a little. "I don't really think there's much to talk about…"

Scott scrunches his nose. "Don't you…?"

"I think we both know what happened." Liams huffs out a trembling breath.

Scott shifts his weight onto his other leg, still holding his helmet. Supposedly, Liam's right about that. "Did you…? You know…" His eyes flick towards Liam's arm.

The boy presses his lips together and his body stiffens. His voice is barely audible when he answers, "Yeah…"

Scott's heart sinks into his stomach, as quickly as a pound of lead dropping onto his head. He has to grab the bike next to him to keep himself from stumbling under the weight, but he quickly regains himself.

"I'm not mad…" he tries with a low voice, wary to scare Liam away. Even though there aren't a lot of places he can run off to, since they're at his house.

"I broke your promise though," Liam replies, voice thick with self-pity. The stickiness of it latches itself around Scott's heart immediately.

"A promise you didn't make," Scott recalls his words from last night.

Liam nods, but it doesn't come across as very convincing. He still hasn't granted Scott a look, which doesn't really help with the whole tension thing they've got going on. "I didn't mean to, you know," Liam whispers.

"I know." Scott doesn't have to think about that response. "It's okay."

"Except that it's not okay. Not really," Liam mutters. He kicks the concrete.

Scott cracks his neck, suddenly noticing how cold he has actually gotten from the ride over. "Look…can we go inside? And just…talk about it?"

One corner of Liam's lips curls downwards, like he's hesitative or unsure. He shakes his head a little. "Scott, it's like I said before. It's not going to get any better and…and I think we should just stop. I don't…I can't..." He inhales deeply, folding his arms in front of his chest, elbows resting in the palms of his hands. "It has been fun and, really, thank you for all you've done, but…I don't…I don't want to keep disappointing you."

Scott's jaw drops an inch.

Is Liam being serious right now? After everything they've been through, he's just going to push Scott away again? Now that Scott finally realizes how much Liam actually means to him? The pilot flame inside his chest grows. And it doesn't grow steadily. No. It's as if the sun has been thrown down onto Earth, a ball of fire shooting straight at Scott. The energy it contains is too much to hold inside his ribcage. The heat, the frustration, boils around his bones and makes him want to rip off his jacket. It surges under his skin, causing the hairs on his arms to rise. Scott wants to burst. He wants to explode with the ferocity of the sun. He wants to use all those Hydrogen, Helium, Oxygen, Carbon, Iron, Neon, Nitrogen, Silicon, Magnesium and Sulfur molecules and just get through to Liam.

"No. No, we're doing this," he says with such a stern tone it even surprises himself. "Liam, you're my friend. I care about you and I like hanging out with you and I'm not gonna stop doing that, just because you're feeling guilty."

Finally, the boy catches Scott's gaze. Liam's eyes have widened from shock and at first Scott thinks it's because of how angry he sounds. But then it hits him; it's because Liam hadn't expected Scott to understand. Which is profoundly insane, because of course Scott's understands. He understands because he has spent so much freaking time with Liam.

"Yes, I know you feel guilty about last night," he voices Liam's astonishment. "But that doesn't matter. I'm not going to stop listening to you." He folds his hands over his nose and mouth, breathing steadily for a mere second. "I'm gonna keep listening to you. Even if it takes days, weeks, months, years. I don't care, okay? The only thing I care about is you. And…" He swallows, pondering if he should actually spill the words that are teasing the tip of his tongue.

Screw it.

"And I think you're a bad friend if you won't let me, because you know me. You know I need to feel worthy and with you, I have that. I need you," his breath hitches in his throat, for a moment unable to comprehend that he has actually said that. "I need you, okay?" he can't help his mouth from repeating that sentence. "I need you, so stop pushing me away."

Scott's chest is rising and falling quickly. That's how out of breath he is. He pushes his knees backwards a little, locking them, so they won't hit the ground below him. His spine stiffens as well, showing off his strong-willed posture. He's not going to budge. Not this time. Not any time. Not anymore.

Liam's pupils haven't stopped dilating and his lips looks crumpled up and dry. Scott knows there's a big chance he has made the boy's sense of guilt even worse, but it also might be that the hardness of his words have overruled that sense and are actually coming through to Liam.

The latter proves to be true when visible tears well up inside Liam's eyes. And, just like that, Scott knows he's made it rain inside Liam's head. Maybe even thunder a little, but Scott doesn't care. It's okay, actually. It is okay, because…because if Scott can make it rain, that means he has started to learn to control the weather. And…and it means that…maybe…just maybe….it is just a matter of time before he learns how to stop the rain as well. Maybe they just need a little bit more time before Liam will allow himself to cuddle up against Scott's body and let his mind absorb the sun in Scott's chest. Forever summer.

Liam suddenly launches forward and for a second Scott thinks he's coming in for a hug, but instead Liam moves past him. He closes the garage door, before turning back around. Scott can only just about notice him wiping his eyes. "Would you like anything to drink?" Liam then asks, voice cracking a little.

Scott perks up instantly, because even though he had hoped for it, the gesture still proves a little unexpected. Probably because it's so anti-climactic. "Coffee would be nice," he takes the opportunity to make up for his sudden outburst.

Liam snorts softly as they enter the kitchen. "With four sugars?"

Scott chuckles, a little impressed by Liam's memory. "Yes, please."

Liam shakes his head, but is grinning nonetheless. He turns on the coffee maker. Scott leans against the counter, hands jammed into his pockets.

When Liam moves past him to take a mug from one of the cabinets above him, Scott lets his impulse take over. He locks eyes with Liam. Their gaze lingers and their faces are only a couple of inches away from each other. Scott gives him a small nod and makes the lines in the corners of his eyes visible, smiling gently at him. It's a small gesture, tiny, even, but it makes Liam's cheeks flush and it's enough for the boys to know they're okay. It strengthens the bond between them – Scott can feel it thickening, like fixing a belt just one hole tighter.

When Liam has prepared Scott's coffee – again, shaking his head as he puts four sugars in it – they move out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Scott pauses to leave his helmet there as well. When he gets back up, he looks at the door to what he thinks is the living room.

"Shouldn't I say hi to your mom?"

"Nah, it's alright," Liam brushes it off.

It makes Scott think that Liam might be eager to get upstairs and for it to be just the two of them. He smiles at that.

"If you say so," he says with a little shrug before following Liam up the stairs.

The house is huge, and sure, Scott would've expected that from having seen the garden before, but it's still impressive. The landing opens into a large hall, the walls painted in a faint yellow colour with a marble line splitting them in the middle. Their footsteps echo off the walls as they walk, and Scott realizes that wealth truly mustn't equal happiness, for he can imagine Liam being lonely at times in such a large house.

Liam's room is just as big. The boy flicks on the light and immediately Scott's eyes are drawn towards the big dresser next to the window with medals and trophies on it. They glimmer faintly and Scott assumes they're from lacrosse games. Liam's desk is covered in paper sheets and books – probably homework – and the sheets on his bed are messed up. The floor's made of wood, but there's a big rug in the middle, which Scott thinks is nice, since Liam probably won't have any cold feet in the morning.

It's also the only thing that looks warm in Liam's room. Altogether, it just looks lifeless and messy. Not dusty or dirty, but just…disorganized.

"I'm sorry for the mess," Liam apologizes with a shaky voice. He has noticed Scott's curious look around the room.

"Don't worry about it," Scott replies. "Mine's like this all the time as well."

It's not.

Liam nods, but starts picking up some clothes nonetheless. His bedroom door opens and he rushes to the laundry basket across the hall. Scott watches him with raised eyebrows. He sits down onLiam's bed – on the end on top of the sheets, for sitting on the white mattress somehow feels a little too personal. Liam continues to clean up a bit.

"Come here," Scott says to his rummaging friend, a calming smile around his lips. "Really, I don't mind the mess."

Liam scratches his neck and looks around his room one more time before he obeys. He carefully places himself down next to Scott, on the very edge of the bed.

Scott watches Liam's bouncy knee and the hasty looks he keeps shooting towards the door. He frowns a little, debating if he should put a hand on Liam's leg, but refrains. "I'm sorry for coming at you that way," he says.

"It's alright," Liam replies softly. "I get I can be frustrating."

Scott huffs out a breath, because that's actually not true. It's unfair, even. "It wasn't entirely because of you," he admits. "I also talked to my dad this morning."

Liam looks up. "What about?"

"The thing I didn't want to talk about…" Scott trails off, referring to their conversation that Tuesday.

Liam swallows. "What did he tell you?"

"Apparently he's a drunk who accidentally pushed me down the stairs when I was a kid," Scott explains briefly, voice monotone, his stomach boiling again when he recalls the conversation. "I told him it was just an accident, but that him leaving wasn't, so…"

"So you're still mad at him…" Liam fills in the blanks.

Scott nods slowly. "Yeah…" He shakes his head a little, clearing his mind. "But now I'm doing all the talking again. And that isn't why I'm here," he says, voice lowering. "So…tell me what happened yesterday."

Liam shrugs a little. His eyes avert towards his lap, where his fingers are fumbling nervously with each other. "I'm gonna sound like a broken record," he says, his words followed by a soft sarcastic chuckle, "but I felt guilty."

Scott's face falls a little. "Towards me again?"

Liam hums. "Don't worry, it's not your fault," he explains. "It just happens. I get one bad thought and then it just keeps going."

"What were you thinking?" Scott wants to know.

Liam snorts. He scrunches up his nose in a painful matter. "That I was only being a bother to you."

Scott opens his mouth to tell Liam once again that's not true; to convince him that he needs Liam just as much as Liam needs him. But he quickly remembers that this time he isn't here to speak.

He's here to listen.

"I mean, I still don't understand why you're doing all this for me," Liam continues. "It's not like I do anything for you. Or as if I'm such great company." The hard look on his face deepens. "I guess I can't see things from your point of view and I…" He scoffs. "I literally can't think of a reason as to why you're here again, especially not after last night."

Scott nods slowly. Not because he agrees, but to show he understands. Silence coats the room and Scott goes into a mental ramble where he repeats the same thing to Liam that he told him in the garage; that Scott cares about him, that Liam gives him a purpose. And maybe that sounds wrong or weird and maybe that's not what a friendship should be based on, but it doesn't matter, because it's reason enough for Scott.

"But you do have a reason, don't you?" Liam breaks the quiet barrier, much to Scott's surprise. "Because you wouldn't be here if you didn't." His knee has stopped bouncing and he has caught Scott's gaze. "I don't have to come up with a reason, because it's not about me. It's about you and if you decide to be here, then I shouldn't try to come up with a million arguments about why you shouldn't be here and feel guilty about it." His eyebrows rise a little, the lines in his face softening. "I don't know why I keep doing that."

A smile tugs on the corners of Scott's lips. He shrugs lightly, the action barely even visible. He doesn't know either.

"But it's okay," Liam sighs.

Scott exhales a breath through his nose, one he didn't even realize he was holding. It makes Liam chuckle a little.

"Thank you," he says, still holding Scott's eyes with his.

Scott's smile brightens, and he too can't look away, because star gazing is way too much fun. His little plan has worked, because Liam has figured all this out by himself. The fact that Scott had gone on a rant didn't matter now, because in the end he had let Liam talk. He hadn't put anything in Liam's head, he hadn't forced him to make empty promises, nor had he pushed him. He had just let him be and now Liam understood. The best thing about that, even, is that it doesn't mean Liam doesn't need Scott anymore now, because he does. He just needs him to listen. Scott is the only one Liam really trusts with his secret and Scott doesn't have to make up for that.

Scott's voice cracks a little when he speaks, "It's nothing. I… I, err…" He hesitates. His stomach flutters and his fingers twitch as he searches for courage. "I really…" He clears his throat, but only makes it burn by doing so. "I like you, Liam."

A faint shade of red covers Liam's ears, but this time he doesn't look away. Instead, everything around them seems to fade and Liam makes no attempt to flee from it. "I like you too, Scott."

The hairs in Scott's neck straighten and the burning sensation that had just been in his throat now shoots down his spine. It warms his belly, his stomach seemingly doing backflips from eager anticipation and Scott…

Scott is the sun.