"Min, you there?"

"Yup."

"Can you come over here for a while?"

"Apparently, my mom's dead. My dad's remarried and a history teacher in a place called Beacon Hills."

"... What the fuck?!"

"What is it, shuckface?"

"What's his name?"

"Ken Yukimura."

Stiles nearly spat out his coffee.

"Tell your dad-if you've met him already- that you'll be staying over with a guy you met online who also lives in Beacon Hills," Stiles ordered. "Tell him that it's Stiles you're staying with, because you know him a bit from Skyping so often."

"Who the shuck is Stiles and why am I staying with that shank?"

Stiles took a deep breath.

"Me, Minho. You're staying with me."

"... Was Stiles your name before?"

"Yeah, it was. I still use it, actually, because I apparently also had friends before."

"Well, I didn't expect that, shank," Minho shook his head. "I'll tell him and meet you in… Gimme three days to get there, 'kay?"

A confirmation from Stiles had their goodbyes said and the screen on black.

As Stiles changed and fell into bed, exhausted, a camera flashed in the darkness.

Scott POV(just for fun)

"Tomboy!" An unfamiliar voice called across the lacrosse field. Scott whipped around at the sudden flow of happysafebrotherlove that flowed from Stiles at the sound.

"Minho!" And Stiles, unathletic, unassuming Stiles fucking sprints towarrd the unknown Korean, who shakes his head with a smirk, but opens his arms to catch the sarcastic brunet.

"How you been brother?"

❤️~Time skip~❤️

Pack Meeting

"This is Minho, guys. Minho, these are the assholes I hang out with," Stiles said, rolling his eyes at Scott's "Bro!".

"I'm gonna get some soda," Stiles said, shooting a loaded glance at Minho. "I expect everything to be in mostly-intact condition, Minho."

"Hold up, why me?!" Minho exclaimed.

"You're the only one I trust with keeping everything here safe, Min. Please, Minho," Stiles nearly whispered the last sentence. Even the wolves had to strain to hear it.

Minho seemed to understand what he was implying, as the Korean straightened up a bit, head lifting.

"Yeah, don't worry, Tomboy. They'll be fine."

Stiles smiled and walked into the basement. As soon as he was out of sight, Minho turned to the pack.

"The boy in there? He is my brother in every way that matters and he's told me about what you all did to him. Seriously? Shuckfaced slintheads, the lot of you," Minho shook his head as Stiles tromped back up the stairs. "Now, Thomas-"

"Why the heck do you keep calling him Thomas?" Derek said, standing up and Eyebrowing(tm) Minho.

Before the Korean could answer though, Noah walked inside. He nodded at Derek, walking straight into the kitchen as Stiles came back up.

"Stiles," Noah called. "There's a blond boy about your age in the cruiser. His guardians died out out on Oak Road, near the Preserve. I said we'd foster him while the system looks for someone. And I'm having a beer and you can't stop me." Clinking was heard from the kitchen.

"Welp. Minho, come with me." The two brunets walked out. The pack stared after them. Stiles hadn't acknowledged them, barely sparing a glance.

In the garage

Thomas-he was Thomas now, not Stiles- opened the cruiser door, Minho just behind him and a little to the left. They gasped nearly in unison.

Newt lay there, bruised and beaten, fast asleept. They shared a loaded look, Minho leaning forward and picking Newt up gently.

As the Keeper walked Newt upstairs and into Stiles' bedroom, Stiles himself walked back into the living room.

Questions bombarded him as Stiles cut through the pack and walked into the kitchen.

"Okay, everybody out," Stiles said, looking over the pack. "Now."

The pack knew better than to argue when Stiles used that tone, so they filed out. The pack meeting was done anyway.

As Stiles made just about every recipe he knew, a black car drove away.