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Ithaca, New York/Stanford, California
Here's the thing: Allison's always known that Scott loves Stiles and Stiles loves Scott. They would die for each other, die with each other because they can't live without each other. It's always been obvious that the ScottandStiles show wasn't ever changing.
So when Scott brings up not doing the Scott and Stiles Annual Epic Adventure to get back to Beacon Hills, she freaks out for a minute.
The boys had video chats after school in high school. They roomed together in college. They went who knows how long without recognizing they were cursed to be stuck together until Thanksgiving break their freshman year of college. People think something’s wrong if they aren’t together.
"Scott, did you and Stiles have a fight?"
His grainy, pixilated face scrunches up and he shakes his head. "No. Why?"
"No reason. Look, Scott, we're fine. We've been fine. We can handle ourselves for a few more weeks until you guys come home. Trust me."
Scott looks like he wants to protest but knows better. He always listens to the head Argent.
"Okay, I'll do it, but I want a daily update and if anything happens at all, we're cutting the trip short."
Allison rolls her eyes but consents. She'll thank herself when she gives a speech at their wedding.
++
Ithaca, New York
“Oh my god, Scott, relax. They’ll be fine without their Alpha for a couple extra weeks.”
“But-”
“But nothing! We’re scattered across country anyway. A few weeks won’t matter, buddy. Besides nothing will get in the way of the Scott and Stiles Epic Annual Adventure. Everything’s gonna be fine. We need this. You got into med school and I got into my master’s program. We gotta celebrate.”
Stiles climbs into the front seat of their CR-V. The Jeep died in the middle of their first semester of college. Stiles cried. Derek paid for their new car.
Scott grins. He decides that they do deserve to have fun. God only knows how much fun they didn’t get to have during their high school years.
“Where to first?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Scott raises a challenging eyebrow. “I could check the GPS.”
“But you won’t because you trust me,” Stiles sing songs as he backs out of the parking spot.
“I do.”
++
They stare at the black credit card in the envelope, too afraid to touch it.
“I don’t feel right about this.”
“But Lydia says in the letter that she wants us to use it. She told us to use the card, Scott.”
“I know, but-”
“She says and I quote ‘I’ll finally be able to test out if appendages can grow back if you don’t use it.’”
Scott shudders. Everyone in the pack has had many close calls, but there hasn’t been a single case of lost appendages. And Scott would like to keep it that way. So, he grabs the black Amex card and puts it in his wallet. At least they won’t be poor college kids for the summer.
++
It’s nice just the two of them. They’re almost always together, but this is different. The Epic Annual Adventure is special. The sheriff took the boys camping at Yosemite the summer that Scott’s dad left. There was the spring break when Melissa forced everyone to go to Disneyland after Stiles’ mom died. When Stiles first bought his Jeep, the boys christened it with an impromptu beach trip. Each trip means something special to them. These little moments were the some of the only things that gave the boys hope when they went through all the werewolf shit in high school.
If we can just make it to Thanksgiving, Christmas, spring, summer break…
Somehow they always manage to make it.
There’s something special about the two of them in a car, blasting music and having no concerns.
++
Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania
Stiles pulls up to this tourist trap. He turns to Scott with a wide smile and rushes to get out of the car and stand in front of it.
With a Vanna White flourish, he asks his best friend, “Whadda ya think?”
Scott can’t help but grin at his dorky best friend, even if he’s trying to show off a giant cow.
“How did you even find this thing?”
Stiles’ grin widens. “There’s a website for weird shit like this and this was the best I could do along our route. So,” he bounces on his toes in excitement. “What do you think?”
Scott can’t help but grin back. He can’t imagine all the work that Stiles put in to find things like this. The main attractions are mutually agreed upon, but quick stops are up to the driver.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about a giant cow.”
“You’re supposed to think that it’s awesome. And only in America would you be able to see something as cool as this.”
Scott gestures at Stiles. “That’s my answer.”
“Thank you. Now that you have confirmed my great choice of a pit stop, we can pee and go.”
Laughter follows Stiles to the bathroom.
++
Beacon Hills, California
Lydia and Aiden have been off and on since junior year. Even when they were on, they weren’t exclusive. Everything was fine until Aiden wanted a monogamous relationship and Lydia dumped him for the summer. So, Ethan is trailing after Aiden in Canada for summer while she thinks about their relationship.
As far as Allison knows, she’s spent almost every second drinking and tanning by the pool. Sometimes with Danny, sometimes with Allison, but mostly just with Prada.
"She'll sober up when Aiden comes back." Allison tries to wave off Scott's alarm. It doesn't work as well as she had hoped so she changes topics on him instead.
"Ethan keeps sending me and Lydia pictures of wedding bands to get our opinion on what Danny would like best."
There’s a distinct Stiles-like thump hitting the floor. “What!” Scott is momentarily distracted by Stiles hurting himself.
She smirks because boys are only too easy.
++
Lydia curses Allison for making Scott worry about her. Lydia can handle many things, but commitment and Scott’s disappointed face are not in her repertoire.
“I’m fine. I broke up with Aiden. Why wouldn’t I be fine with him trekking across Canada for the summer? Besides, I can finally catch up with all my math and science journals.” She gives him the ‘believe me or pay’ tight smile.
“Lydia,” he sighs. “Allison says all you’ve done is drink by the pool. You’re not a werewolf. Your liver won’t heal from alcohol poisoning. I can send my mom over if you want to hear her horror stories.” It’s a very real threat. Ms. McCall is notorious for oversharing when she feels like she’s connecting with one of the girls.
She huffs. “I don’t know why any of you are worried. It’s not like anything crazy is happening for once. I haven’t found a dead body in months. And maybe a banshee with a clingy ex-boyfriend needs a break after a stressful semester.”
“Have you told anyone about any of this?” Her silence is answer enough. “I’m just throwing it out there that Erica would probably like to help Ethan decide on a ring.”
She purses her lips and nods. “Thanks.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “No problem.”
++
King’s Dominion Amusement Park, Virginia
On a very rare occasion, one of them will catch the other looking like they’re utterly devastated. And neither knows how to react. Sometimes, they’ll ask what’s wrong. Mostly they just try to ignore the ache in their gut, yearning to have who isn’t theirs.
Stiles is giving Scott that look right as they’re waiting for the lady to check their seats, so the Dominator can take off.
“Hey,” he says almost too softly for a roller coaster. “Are you okay?”
Sometimes Stiles freaks himself out over worst case scenarios. He nods, but Scott can tell a lie even without his heart beat. So, Scott holds out his hand and Stiles intertwines their fingers. His heart goes into overdrive, but Scott just assumes it’s because the ride is finally taking off. Scott’s just thanks a higher power that Stiles doesn’t have super hearing too; it’s bad enough that his palms are sweating.
They have to trek all the way to the Congo section because Stiles wants fish n’ chips and he won’t settle for chicken tenders. Scott grumbles the entire time because he’s sopping wet from the water park and it’s uncomfortable. But Stiles buys him loaded cheese fries as repayment.
Scott doesn’t forgive him for making them go on the Crypt right after lunch though. It flips their seats as the entire ride flips. Of course with their luck, the rides breaks and they spend fifteen minutes pressed against their seats, staring at the water below them.
“You think I could make the jump?” Stiles looks at him a bit crazed. “I think I’m gonna hurl, dude, and I’d rather do it in a trash can.”
“Don’t leave me here. You aren’t the only one who ate those fries.” Stiles is getting a bit hysterical, which can only mean it’s getting to him too. They’ve had food poisoning together. (They might have dared each other to eat expired food. Twice, but the time with the Chinese food was an accident. How were they supposed to know it was bad without Scott’s handy dandy detection nose or obvious mold? It hasn’t happened since they were fourteen anyway. But they definitely bonded by puking side by side in the kitchen sink and trash cans.)
The ride finally works, and Scott doesn’t puke.
“Oh thank god, I thought we were going to have to come back tomorrow.” Scott whips around to glare at Stiles, who refuses to look cowed. “Come on,” Stiles says as he slings an arm around Scott’s shoulders. Scott tries not to wish it was around his waist instead. “Let’s go ride the Volcano,” he says reverently.
Scott buys a picture of them. He shrugs when Stiles shoots him a questioningly look. They Instagram the shit out of their day just so everyone will be satisfied. It also gives them the opportunity to pass out from a funnel cake and fried Oreos coma without having to call anyone.
++
“Why the fuck are you two staying in a Holiday Inn? I meant it when I said that you were supposed to use the credit card.”
“I know but-”
“Do I have to make your reservations from now on?”
“I-uh…”
“Stiles, already gave me your itinerary. I’ll text you the address.”
There’s a beep to indicate that Lydia has hung up.
The boys exchange confused looks before shrugging and turning up the music.
++
He’s always loved Stiles. They’re best friends. They’re brothers. They would die for and with each other, that’s how much they love each other. But he wants more than that lately. Sometimes, he just wants to take Stiles’ face in his hands and kiss him breathless. He wants to do more than that. He wants to marry Stiles and adopt their own pack of pets (because Stiles isn’t the best with kids). He was always going to have Stiles by his side through everything. He just doesn’t want Uncle Stiles anymore. He doesn’t picture happily ever after with Allison or any other person anymore.
This roadtrip is making it harder.
++
I-95 South, North Carolina
Stiles has been driving for the past three hours. There hasn’t been anything to look at but billboards and pine trees. He’s been going out of his mind with boredom and he can’t take it anymore.
“Fuck it! We’re going to see South of the Border.”
Scott jerks awake and blinks blearily at his best friend. “Huh?”
“I’ve been seeing signs for this place since Baltimore. It’s in South Carolina, Scotty. We have to know.”
Scott yawns and nods before going back to sleep.
++
South of the Border, South Carolina
South of the Border looks like a ghost town. A cheesy dilapidated ghost town.
"Dude, are you sure we have to go?" Scott asks warily.
"Yes. I need to see it. The suspense has been killing me,” Stiles hisses.
"I looked up the reviews and they all say it's pretty bad. It's not worth seeing."
"You don't know that."
Scott levels him with an 'are you shitting me' stare. "Everyone says it's bad. Everyone. Why do we want to waste our time on it?"
"If we took the time to see a giant cow, we can take time to see a Mexican amusement park."
Scott can't really argue with that. So, he lets Stiles drive to South of the Border even though he thinks it's a bad idea. He keeps his mouth shut and let's Stiles have this one thing.
They pull into the parking lot and Scott instantly feels that something's off. He likes it less than before and he refuses to get out of the car.
"Come on. Just a few pictures and then we can go."
Scott shakes his head. "No way. I want to go."
"Scott, come on. Five minutes, that's all I'm asking for buddy."
He sighs and relents. Scott pouts the entire time and refuses to smile for any of the pictures.
++
“You actually went to South of the Border?” She looks incredulous.
“There were billboards in Baltimore, Allison. How could we not go?” Stiles spits.
“Because it’s pretty universally known as a terrible tourist trap.” Her eyebrows draw together. It’s a fact. The only people who could possibly like it like it for the cheese factor. “Scott, you said that it felt wrong, right?”
“Yeah, there was something disturbed about the place. Like the feeling you get about abandoned places.”
“That probably explains why we lived there for a couple weeks when I was eight. I’ll have to ask my dad about it.”
++
Plumas National Forest, California
Danny, Boyd, and Isaac are disturbed by how well Derek is getting along with the all of pack dads. They’ve taken him under their collective wing. Before the first day is out, Derek is drinking beers and shooting the shit. The surprised and confused looks they shoot each other start out few and far between until all they do is sit in a semi-circle and take video of the unnatural proceedings. No one will believe them without physical proof.
There’s no reception in the middle of fucking nowhere so they can’t get the girls to come rescue them. They’re too afraid to actually talk about it because Derek might overhear. They can only hope that the girls and Scott and Stiles are having a better time.
++
Middle of Nowhere, South Carolina
"Stiles? What is this?"
It sounds suspiciously like “Hungry Like the Wolf”. Scott presses skip and it goes to another wolf related song. The wicked grin says Stiles is up to no good. So, Scott goes back far enough on the iPod to see the name of the playlist: Calling on the Wolf Pack.
"Really, Stiles?"
"Remember Scotty, shotgun shuts his cakehole."
"I hate you a little."
Stiles bursts out with a laugh. "You could never hate me."
"That time when you chained me up to the radiator and gave me water in a dog bowl," Scott offers.
Stiles shrugs his shoulders. He had forgotten about that.
“Every time you wore that ‘I support single moms’ shirt."
Stiles points a finger at Scott. “I let you burn that shirt.”
Scott raises an unimpressed eyebrow and watches Stiles deflate. He stays quiet to let his best friend squirm a little. The only good thing that ever came out of that shirt was that Scott got to roast marshmallows over it. It takes two minutes for Scott to cave and let his best friend off the hook.
“I still love you, dude. And I forgave you for that shit years ago.”
He watches Stiles return a smile and hears his heart skip a beat. He frowns slightly. Stiles’ heart is always a little too fast to be normal, but it never really skips unless Scott is in direct vicinity. It’s almost always a guarantee if Scott smiles. He doesn’t really know what to make of that.
++
It’s supposed to be a joke. Stiles sings “Bad Moon Rising” as they walk to the Blue Moon Pub and Grill. Scott scowls half-heartedly but plays along. That is until the walk into the bar and everyone is glaring at them.
“Boys, I suggest you just run right out of this town. Pretty boys like you don’t need to be here when the adults are discussing business,” a man at the bar drawls. Scott’s eyes flash red in defiance; he doesn’t like to be put down. The man’s glow red too.
Everyone else in the bar starts to flash their red eyes, and Stiles quickly realizes how bad a decision it was to come here. Stiles tugs on Scott’s arm. In their hasty exit, Stiles trips in the gravel parking lot, trying to avoid a mean looking biker who growls at the pair, and falls right into a massive puddle. His grip is so tight that he takes Scott down with him. Luckily, Scott falls backwards and only gets a light splash of mud. Granted it’s all over the back of his jeans, so they’ll have to dig out towels so Scott can sit without ruining the seats.
Scott takes a second to recover from the shock before yanking Stiles up by the back of his pants.
“Come on, dude. I am not staying the night.”
They set a new world record for fastest check out. They’re back on the road in ten minutes, still in muddy clothes. Stiles is not proud to admit that his new baby squealed out of the parking lot. Scott can hear the werewolf bikers in the bar, laughing at them.
They drive for two more hours and stop at a Chick-fil-A for dinner.
They have just enough time to drag their bags into a cheap motel before the daily Skype chat will Allison.
++
"What are you guys up to?"
She stares at the screen blankly and chews the sleeve of her shirt.
"All the guys went camping with the dads for some bonding,” she whispers slowly as if she's still processing it, which she is. Being drunk makes it a little harder to process too.
“Are you drunk?” Scott’s trying not to laugh, but Drunk Allison is a lot like Drunk Stiles.
She squishes two fingers together. “Lydia keeps making these really great drinks. So..."
"I think you should lay off the cocktails and drink some water instead. Okay?"
She smiles and nods into her shirt sleeve.
Scott shoots a crazed look at Stiles that Allison doesn’t catch.
“Lydia’s done making the margaritas. We’ll talk later. Kay?”
Scott nods and Allison waves goodbye.
++
Allison signs out and Scott pauses a moment before turning around to look at Stiles.
“Did we just get away with this?” Scott’s head tilts in that inquisitive way it does when he’s confused.
Stiles is frozen, afraid that if he goes near the laptop the pack will see him and they’ll be caught. He’s still covered in mud, and there’s gravel in his hair and sneakers.
“I think we did. Now we’re never ever going to speak of this incident again.”
“Agreed. I kinda want to know why a bunch of Alphas were hanging out in a bar.”
“I don’t, because with our luck it would be another Alpha pack. One was more than enough for me.” Scott nods in agreement.
Scott shuts down his laptop as Stiles goes to shower off the mud.
++
Savannah, Georgia
“It should be under Martin,” Scott says. They haven’t figured out who’s pretending to be James Martin yet, but they can wing things fairly well.
“Yes, James Martin. A king?”
Scott’s eyebrows scrunch together. They’ve been getting two queens so far. “Uh, you’re sure it’s not two queens?”
Stiles scowls when the lady tells them it’s definitely a king. Scott shrugs and takes the key.
“This is all Lydia’s fault,” Stiles spits as they walk into an empty elevator.
Scott shrugs again. “Dude, it’s not that bad.”
“She plots. This all part of an evil plan, okay, Scott? She’s evil and manipulative. You can’t trust her.”
“Stiles, we’ve shared a twin bed before. We’ll survive.”
Stiles deflates against the wall. A king isn’t that bad, but it still has Lydia written all over it.
“Fine,” he sighs. “Let’s go eat after we throw the bags in.”
++
Scott and Stiles aren’t sleeping, too aware of their proximity.
Scott is curled on his side, his back to Stiles. He can hear Stiles tap a rhythm on his stomach. Scott heaves a sigh.
“Stiles, just come over here,” Scott demands, reaching blindly for him. Scott can hear rustling and shuffling. Then finally, there’s solid warmth pressed against his back and arms wrap around his waist. Scott can feel Stiles relax against him.
“See,” Scott can’t help but tease.
Stiles makes a noise of disgruntlement. After a moment, Stiles nuzzles the back of Scott’s head.
“Go to sleep,” he sleepily demands.
Scott can’t help but smile. “Okay.”
++
The girls down in Georgia remind the boys of old school Lydia. Tanned and flip-flop wearing Lydia Martins.
Scott can hear them say horrible things with the sweetest Southern accents. But even human ears and eyes can pick up on the bitchiness. The girls sneer and mutter ‘fuckin’ tourists’ as they push past. Without fail, Stiles will examine himself to see where he went wrong.
“Stiles, we don’t look like frat boys, we don’t have Southern accents, and most importantly, you’re holding a map.”
He almost feels bad seeing Stiles’ wounded expression. It’s just they’re walking around slower than all the old couples and looking like California surfers. It’s going to get them killed, judging by the looks that drivers give them every time they cross a street.
“Can we just put the map up and ask the locals how to get to the Christmas shop?”
Stiles’ bottom lip sticks out in a pout; Scott tries not to roll his eyes at the dramatics.
Somehow they ended up at the City Market instead of River Street. Their hotel is on River Street so Scott’s not quite sure what to make of that one. Instead, he bites the bullet for his best friend. Stiles won’t ask anyone for directions. He’d rather try to figure it out on his phone, which hasn’t been much help.
He scans the crowd until he spots someone who looks local. She gets flustered when Scott smiles and calls him a charmer. She tells him where to go and about five places to eat. He thanks her and goes to look for Stiles, who’s rapidly texting and trying not to show his frustration.
Scott does roll his eyes and walks into the gelato shop. He orders the biggest scoop of peanut butter Oreo because he knows Stiles. He loves his peanut butter, and Oreos are always amazing.
Every so often Stiles will look up and check his surroundings before ducking back down. His eyes light up when he sees Scott with ice cream and a proud grin.
“So the girl I talked to said that we just have to go down Barnard until we hit River Street and go left. She said the Christmas shop is like a marker to turn around.” He shrugs his shoulders and steals a chunk of ice cream.
Stiles makes a noise of protest. “Sharing is caring.” Scott deliberately sends his best friend his most charming smile. He doesn’t expect Stiles to choke. For a few horrible seconds, he thinks he might have to do the Heimlich maneuver. He waves Scott off before gesturing for him to lead the way.
They make it down the cobblestone streets without a single close call with a car.
Stiles is bouncing on his toes excited when they walk into the unassuming shop.
“Why do you want to go here so badly?” He asks with a smile on his lips.
It’s not that he minds; Stiles isn’t usually this excited about shopping.
“Savannah is known for their St. Patrick’s Day, but they have a year round Christmas shop instead. How awesome is that? We don’t have stuff like this back home.”
Christmas used to be a sad, quiet thing after Stiles’ mom died. It’s gotten better over the years, but Stiles still isn’t a big fan of the holidays. It’s nice a change.
The inside of the store looks like the Christmas section of Wal-Mart and Nordstrom threw up.
Scott hears a cat purring and at first, he thinks it might be a stray cat outside. It’s too loud and clear to be outside though. Then he notices the massive sleigh in the middle of the store, bordered by Christmas trees.
“Stiles,” he hisses. The atmosphere seems to call for whispering.
“What?” Stiles asks, whirling around.
“There’s a cat here.”
“What?”
Scott gestures to the sleigh where a fluffy gray cat is curled up. Stiles just melts. He makes grabby hands at the cat, but doesn’t touch because of the signs on the sleigh prohibiting him. He deflates slightly before he moves on.
Scott waits until they’re out of the store and headed towards one of the two candy shops.
“You know, we could check out the animal shelter once we get home. There’s always poor cats that need a good home.”
“You serious?”
“Yeah, the apartment’s pet friendly and Deaton could check it out for us.”
Stiles almost side tackles him in a hug. “We’ll get two and name them Batman and Robin.” Scott can’t help but smile back.
“Sounds like a plan.”
++
SOS Scott and I are going to adopt cats.
Lydia bursts out laughing. She cackles so loudly that Allison bursts out of the bathroom.
“What?”
She can only show Allison the text. Allison snorts before handing back Lydia’s phone so she can pull out her own.
Most people ask a boy out on a date before they decide to adopt a pet.
Scott is too busy blushing at Allison’s text to notice Stiles doing the same thing with Lydia.
You do realize that there is a natural progression of a relationship and that involves kissing and sex before adopting a cat?
Well, Scott’s supernatural so I don’t have to play by those rules. It’s the only smartass comment Stiles can think of. It’s lame, but in his defense, he’s still reeling from the fact that he’s going to adopt a couple of cats with a boy he loves.
++
Tybee Island, Georgia
Tybee Island is a tourist beach if there ever was one. They could enjoy the cheese factor if the ocean wasn’t so brown and dirty. The Savannah River has better clarity than this bit of ocean.
Still it’s hot and they drove all the way here. It’d be a shame to not waste the day soaking up the sun.
They play Frisbee and skim board until Stiles declares it’s break time and Scott should go get them something from the pier. When Scott comes back, he nearly drops the ice cream bars in surprise. Stiles’ front is bright red. Scott prods his own shoulder and it feels burning hot. While he can heal, Stiles is so fucked that it is only a small relief that he can ease Stiles’ pain.
He gives Stiles both of the ice cream bars before suggesting that he put on a shirt. Stiles winces in pain as he slips the shirt back. He spends five minutes trying to find a position that doesn’t brush against his skin before giving up.
“Okay, we can go. I think I burned everything sufficiently.”
Scott quickly packs everything back up and herds Stiles to the car. He just hopes they can remember where they packed that bottle of aloe vera.
++
Atlanta, Georgia
It's not the world’s largest aquarium for nothing. The place is massive and it leaves the boys gawking at everything. Scott never got much of a chance to work with sea creatures when he worked at Deaton’s. He's fascinated by them though. The fish aren't bothered by Scott's presence or his red eyes. It's a welcome change and for once Scott gets to enjoy wildlife.
A little girl taps Scott on the leg and it shocks him out of staring at the otters.
"I can't see," she whispers. Her lip quivers and Scott can see claws poking out. Scott crouches down to her level.
"Where are your parents, sweetie?" He can’t sense if there are other werewolves nearby. Over the years, Derek and Cora have taught him a lot about etiquette when dealing with other werewolves. Poaching pack members is a serious offense; sometimes just talking to another werewolf can be considering disrespectful.
"Julie kept screaming so they had to take her out. My older brother's over with the sharks. He's pretending he can't hear me," she pouts and huffs.
Scott nods. "After this I want you to go find your brother, okay?"
She nods and her claws recede.
Scott hefts her up and she instantly presses her face against the glass. Stiles shoots him a confused look. He's somehow not terribly surprised that Scott acquired an adorable child.
Scott shrugs. "She couldn't see."
Stiles rolls his eyes good naturedly and points out a massive manta ray. Once the little girl gets bored, Scott and Stiles find her older brother. He's a thirteen year old snot nosed brat. As soon as Scott flashes his red eyes, Brady is a cowering mess.
Stiles stands gleefully behind Scott as he chews the kid out.
"She almost lost control because you weren't paying attention to her." He doesn't have to lay into him very long before Brady is almost in tears. Then Scott nods to himself and they leave the kids.
"That was a little harsh for you buddy," Stiles brings up. It’s not like Scott to yell at kids. He’s going to be a pediatrician for god’s sake; he loves kids.
"He left his little sister in the largest aquarium in the world! She lost control, Stiles. Do you realize how unsafe that is? What if that happened to one of our pack when someone has kids?"
It just hits Scott that he’s twenty-two and he’s responsible for at least fourteen people. If anything happens to them, it’s all his fault. People are starting to get married and then they’ll have kids and everything is more precarious when children are involved. This isn’t the first time he’s had a panic attack over this. This isn’t the first time he’s wished that he could go back to being a boring, asthmatic kid. He can’t handle, doesn’t want to handle it.
This road trip was supposed to be an escape from everything and he can’t stop worrying.
He tells Stiles all of this as he slides down a wall. Stiles crouches down in front of him and places his hands gently on Scott’s knees.
“Scott, you’re not doing this alone. You’ll never have to be alone as long as you got me. And you’ve always got me, buddy. We got this. We’ve handled everything that’s been thrown at us and still survived.”
Scott matches his breathing to Stiles and eventually calms down. He’ll get through it because they always make it. Stiles pokes his thigh.
“Come on. There’s a dolphin show I want to catch.”
Stiles hauls him and drags him to the dolphin exhibit and doesn’t let go of his hand.
++
Stiles plays with his food more than he eats it. It’s disappointing that the décor of the Hard Rock is better than the food could ever hope to be.
“What if-” he pauses and starts again. “What if we just went home? I just miss everything, you know?”
“Just write everything off and book it? I kinda wanted to see the Grand Canyon.” Scott isn’t totally sold on the idea yet.
“Yeah, we don’t have to drop everything. It’s just…do we really want to see the Country Music Hall of Fame in Nashville or go to Disneyland again?”
Scott shrugs his shoulders. “Not really, but we have to stop at Waffle House for breakfast every day. IHOP just doesn’t compare to Waffle House or Cracker Barrel.”
The first time they discovered Waffle House, they refused to talk to Derek or Allison for a week because they never told anyone about the greasy, salty goodness. The boys spent many a night in a Waffle House type establishment. They may or not have an addiction to peanut butter chocolate chip waffles. It’s not like they asked for a waffle iron for Christmas their freshman year. It wasn’t like they had a set routine for breakfast: Stiles makes waffles while Scott cooks the bacon because he can heal from grease burns quicker. They have an addiction. There are worse problems to have.
Stiles smiles fondly at Scott and actually tries to choke down his food.
++
Nashville, Tennessee
They make it to Nashville around lunch time. Stiles looks for somewhere to eat as Scott tries to navigate the crazed Tennessee highways. He has to cross five lanes like three times.
They spend most of their lunch in awe that somehow their native Tennessee waitress had a thicker Southern accent than Georgians.
They wait until they’re in the safe confines of the CR-V to say anything else.
How is Paula Deen not from here?” Stiles exclaims as soon as the doors shut. “It sounded so fake.”
“I’m eighty percent sure it was real.”
Stiles whips around to stare at Scott incredulously. “Scott, no one can honestly tawk like this.”
Scott can’t help but snort at his best friend’s awful attempt at a Southern accent. He refuses to admit that he sounded like exactly like their waitress. “You are the worst.”
Stiles looks unimpressed by the accusation.
“We know a fuckton of assholes who are miles worse than I am. I can name five right now, starting with Jackson.”
He lightly shoves Stiles’ shoulder. They share a special grin before Stiles heads for St. Louis.
++
Hopkinsville, Kentucky
Scott checks Allison’s Vine to find out why she can’t Skype.
There’s a Toyota full of the pack. “You’ve just finished college. What’re you going to do next?” Allison asks.
Everyone throws their hands up. “We’re going to Disneyland!”
The camera turns to Derek in the driver’s seat, shaking his head. “Knott’s Berry,” he sighs like he purposely left out dumbasses.
“Whatever,” Erica yells from the very back.
“They’re going to Disneyland-”
“Knott’s Berry Farm,” Scott corrects.
“Knott’s without us? The bastards,” he says half-heartedly. “They could have waited like three days and we could have met them.”
Scott shrugs. “I think this was the only time Boyd could get off.”
“Whatever. I just think it’s suspicious that after we said we weren’t going, they decide to.”
“Yes, Stiles, they’re only going because we said we weren’t.”
Stiles nods. “Duh.”
“Sure, buddy.”
++
St. Louis, Missouri
Scott waits until he thinks Stiles is asleep. His breathing and heart rate are slow and steady.
There’s just something about Stiles’ tousled hair, his partially opened mouth, like it’s still trying to get one more word in, and the possessive hand around his waist because Stiles is his and always has been. He expects Scott to never go anywhere without him because he never will.
“I love you,” he whispers, just to test how the words feel.
They slipped out when he was dating Allison and it felt like a welcome surprise. With Stiles, it feels like home and his mom’s homemade bunuelos. Then the implications behind the simple phrase sink in when he feels Stiles tense.
They both suck in sharp breaths. Scott is frozen in fear. Stiles, however, pushes himself off Scott’s chest to look him in the eye.
“Did you mean that? Like really mean it,” Stiles says, his voice soft and scared.
Scott pauses a moment to take Stiles in. There’s warmth in his chest and butterflies in his stomach.
“Yeah. Yeah, I did. I love you, Stiles.” The words slip out and it feels right.
Stiles searches Scott’s face for something and Scott lies there and lets him. If he pushes, he’ll ruin the moment. He’ll never get another chance like this again.
Like always, Stiles surprises him. He swoops down and quickly presses a kiss to Scott’s lips. Scott finds himself chasing the feel of soft and smooth and mine.
“I love you too.”
A sigh of relief leaves Scott; even though he wasn’t extremely worried about Stiles returning his feelings, it’s the best confirmation. Both boys have dealt with rejection and they’re so close, Scott would push aside his own feelings to keep his best friend. A grin creeps up on his face as he reaches to pull Stiles back down.
This isn’t their first kiss, not by far. They were each other’s first kiss. Melissa has pictures of a tiny Batman and Robin smooching in the attic. They wanted to see what all the fuss was about French kissing, so they tried that too. The years have also been sprinkled with ‘holy shit we aren’t dead’ kisses. This kiss is like none other.
Kissing Allison was different. She was sure and aggressive and just a little sweet. Stiles is tender and nervous and earnest. It feels like their last kiss, like if this is it, Stiles is going to make it count.
He slowly slides a leg over to straddle Scott’s hips. Scott barely notices, too distracted by Stiles’ hands trying to figure out if they like carding through Scott’s hair, cupping his perfectly uneven jaw, or groping his chest more.
Their kisses grow more wet and desperate as little pants and moans escape. Scott tangles his fingers in Stiles’ hair and shirt when Stiles rolls his hips. They’re both so hard. He can only clutch Stiles as he peppers Scott’s jaw with kisses before marking his neck. He tries desperately to leave bruises that will last by the feel of it.
“Stiles,” Scott manages to gasp as he tilts his head back further. Stiles makes a noise to let Scott know he’s listening. “We gotta stop before I come in my boxers.”
Stiles pulls back for Scott to see his lascivious grin. He kisses Scott sweetly one last time before settling down next to Scott.
“G’night, Scotty.”
++
It takes approximately a minute for it to hit Stiles what he did last night. It takes him three to sneak out of the room and call Lydia in a panic.
“What the hell, Stiles? It’s six in the morning.”
He’s in the car, trying to figure out if he wants to make a run for it or not.
“I may have made out with Scott last night. He told me he loved me.”
Lydia doesn’t say anything, waiting for more. “That’s it?” She hears the car rev up and Stiles heads down the street. “Are you in the car? Stiles,” she growls. “Did you say you didn’t love him or something?”
“No, nothing like that. I’m just waiting for him to take it back. What if this ruins our friendship? What if we break up and that it’s forever? I need him, Lydia. I haven’t ever really not had him with me, ya know? I can’t lose that.”
“Stiles.” Lydia turns authoritative. “If it was mutual, then I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about. And you couldn’t lose him if you tried. I have it on good authority that he loves you.”
His phone beeps with an incoming call.
“Okay,” he says and Lydia grumbles a goodbye. He switches over to Scott.
“Hey, I was just picking up breakfast before you woke up.” He pulls into a McDonald’s drive thru.
“Oh, okay. There wasn’t a note or anything. I just panicked.”
“It’s cool. I’m about to order and then I’ll head back. Okay?”
“Okay.” Stiles can hear the smile. It makes him feel like an idiot for freaking out. They loved each other platonically. They would die for each other and if Scott and Allison can still be friends, they’ll be able to recover if anything goes wrong.
He takes a deep breath and pulls forward.
++
They’re in the car and nervous. No one knows how to proceed. Then Scott takes the plunge and takes Stiles’ hand. Something in them finally settles when they intertwine their fingers. There are still butterflies in Stiles’ stomach, but it’s Scott. If they can handle supernatural monsters on the daily, they can handle love.
“Are we- What are we?” Stiles asks after a while.
Scott glances over at Stiles. “I-uh. Well whatever you feel comfortable with.”
Stiles chews on his lip as he thinks about all his options. “I want to be your boyfriend,” he blurts out.
Scott’s smile blinds Stiles with its intensity. “Good. Great! I want to be yours.”
They both let out a sigh of relief.
++
I-44, Missouri
Traveling the Southern half of the states was not one of their best ideas. It’s blazing hot in the black leather interior of their car. It sticks and burns, but it doesn’t get stained with blood and other substances that are commonly associated with a werewolf pack.
Stiles managed to get another sunburn from propping his legs up on the dashboard. Stiles keeps slathering himself in aloe vera. Scott would complain, but he’s peeling only after a few days. Scott’s left arm and thigh are constantly burning before his healing kicks in and leaves him unevenly tanned.
To take their mind off the heat, they sing along to Disney soundtracks and bubblegum pop with the windows rolled down. They don’t really care when teenagers laugh at them. That’s usually when they start to Vogue.
++
I-40, New Mexico
Scott likes driving at night. There's something magical about the quiet of night and glow of city lights. He's always liked night drives, mostly because his mom would take him driving after a fight. She'd play classical music and let him sit the passenger seat for once.
They decide to drive through the night to Albuquerque. Stiles drives for an hour or two until he starts yawning. At a gas station, Scott grabs a couple Full Throttles, bottles of water, and gummy bears.
While Stiles is still awake, he plays the ‘name that song’ with Scott. Scott played it with his mom during the drives. For all of Stiles' pop culture knowledge bits, he can't remember song titles to save a soul.
After Stiles finally splays out and falls asleep, Scott sings the lullabies his mom would make up on car rides. Every so often he looks over at Stiles fondly.
In a couple hours, his best friend will start wiggling around in his sleep. If Scott’s lucky, Stiles will start sleep talking. Sometimes it makes sense; other times he’s talked about squirrels taking over a Ferris wheel.
These are special moments that only Scott and Stiles have shared. No one is quite as intimately aware of their best friends sleeping habits as they are. They’ve shared a bed since they were five. There was a period when they were thirteen and thought that sleeping in the same bed together was weird. Now he can’t sleep if Stiles isn’t wrapped around him.
Stiles doesn’t shift around in his sleep until Scott switches to eighties pop music. He doesn’t know what to think about that.
++
Grand Canyon, Arizona
The Grand Canyon is gorgeous at sunset even if the shit ton of tourists slightly diminishes its glory. Scott can’t figure out which one he’s more enamored with: the view or Stiles. Maybe it’s Stiles looking at the view.
They snap photos from every angle to make a panorama.
“You know we could fake hanging onto the ledge of the canyon,” Stiles suggests after a bit of people watching.
Scott shakes his head. “My mom would kill us. She still brings up the tree thing.”
When Scott and Stiles were eight, they tried to rescue a treed cat. They got treed with the cat, until Scott slipped and held onto a weak tree limb that snapped and he broke his arm. In a fit of panic, Stiles jumped down to check on Scott and severely sprained his ankle. Melissa rushed out of the house to find the boys, crying on the ground, with the cat still in the tree.
“All right, give me a second, I’ll think of something.” Suddenly, Stiles lights up with a grin. “I’ve got it.”
He fiddles with his phone for a second before pulling Scott in for a kiss. Without warning, Stiles pulls back and checks his phone before posting the picture on Instagram. All Scott can do is gape at him in amazement. Then it hits him that his boyfriend just announced to everyone they know that they’re official. He immediately calls his mom. No way is she going to let him live if she hears about them secondhand.
They ignore most of the calls and texts because they’ll handle it when they get home. They’re going to be home in two days anyway.
++
Vegas
They aren’t very impressed by the Vegas Strip. Maybe it’s better at night, but so far they’ve seen better. Then they find out about the Buffet of Buffets pass, which gives them twenty-four hours to eat all they can at eight different hotels. Naturally, they gorge themselves. They take a break after lunch to walk around the Caesars Palace Forum shops. Normally, they’d walk into all the high-end stores just to browse, but having a credit card at their disposal is just asking for trouble. Scott wants to get something for each pack member, but he can’t decide. With Lydia’s tastes, Stiles thinks they should buy her a pair of Jimmy Choos, but Scott wants to get them all something special.
They wander around the Strip, constantly walking in and out of stores. Scott gets his idea when they go into M&M World. There’s a personalize your M&M station and Scott knows what to put on them.
Lydia gets light purple with the chemical compound for aconite. Ethan and Aiden get red with engagement rings because they’re both going to propose soon. Scott can tell. The best they can do for Allison is silver M&Ms with a fleur de lis. Stiles insists that Derek and Cora should get the Minnesota Timberwolves logo. Scott tries to argue against it, but it’s Stiles. Isaac gets red with his lacrosse numbers. They each take turns picking out M&Ms out for each other. Scott goes down to the second level while Stiles picks out Scott’s. He picks out peanut butter and gold ones that remind him of Stiles’ eyes. While he’s down there, he picks out Erica’s and Boyd’s. He picks out all the weird ones for Erica because she’s willing to try anything. On the other hand, Boyd will only eat yellow M&Ms.
They take their haul back to their hotel room and crash for a few hours. Scott wakes up to Stiles’ stomach growling, and they decide to hit the Paris buffet and eat their weight in sausage and crepes.
At night, they can finally see why so many people visit Vegas. It’s not as appealing as an overhead view, especially amongst the sweaty throng of bodies pushing their way down the streets, but with everything lit up there’s a certain magic to the city.
They don’t hit the bars or casinos. Stiles doesn’t want to get smashed alone and they refuse to spend Lydia’s money and their own on false hope. They know they have bad luck. So, they head back to their hotel room and call Allison.
++
Beacon Hills, California
There’s a beeping noise coming from the living room. It’s not the printer that sometimes turns on for no reason, but Allison’s laptop. She accidentally left it after Lydia took her on an impromptu shopping trip and promised to pick it up the next day.
He really doesn’t care, but the beeping won’t stop. He huffs and steps over to the coffee table with the illusion that he knows what he’s doing. He’s surprised that he can manage his phone as it is. There’s a pop screen that says Incoming Video Call from Scott.
He touches the touchpad to click the decline button and a webcam view of Scott appears. Derek has no luck whatsoever.
“Hey Alli-Derek? What are you doing with Allison’s laptop? Is she just in the bathroom or something? If she is, just tell her to call me back.”
Derek shakes his head slowly. “She left it here.”
There’s a very pregnant pause, during which Scott looks off-screen, presumably at Stiles, and desperately mimes something.
“That’s fine. I’ll just talk to her tomorrow.” Scott’s trying to be nice about it, but there’s pure desperation in his eyes.
There’s another bout of awkward silence. Derek just wants to scream, ‘If you ever cared about me at all, you’d come back sooner.’ Instead, he says, “Oh, okay. Hey, could you do something for me?”
He can hear Stiles muttering off-screen, ‘I’m not dealing with another psychotic girlfriend.’
Scott shoots Stiles a quick glare before turning back to Derek. “Yeah, sure, what is it?”
Derek doesn’t know what Scott trying to do, but he looks terrified.
“I just need you to place an order for a large pepperoni pizza from Dominos. Normally, I’d get Cora to do it, but she’s not here.”
Scott makes a face at the mention of pizza. Derek doesn’t know what the face is for; Scott loves pizza. Stiles is barely containing his laughter off-screen. Scott slaps him as he rolls out of his bed and into frame.
“Why do you need people to order for you? You can handle a phone just fine.”
“They still think I’m a murderer, thanks to you two.”
“Whoa there buddy. No need to get hostile. We are the ones ordering your food,” Stiles threatens. Derek stares blankly at the screen, wishing not for the first time that he had never met Kate.
“Just do it,” he says before slamming the laptop closed.
When the pizza finally arrives, he discovers what the little shits have done. On the inside lid in Sharpie is ‘Derek Hale’s life summoned up’ with an arrow pointing at the pizza decorated with an olive frowny face. He can’t help but frowning because he hates olives.
++
Las Vegas, Nevada
They get up way too early to check out and make one last trip to the buffet for breakfast before heading out. They have a twelve hour car ride ahead of them before they are finally home.
The coffee hasn’t kicked in yet, so Scott takes the first shift. Stiles plugs in Scott’s address into the GPS before passing out.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Scott pokes Stiles’ shoulder until he wakes up. “Hey, we’re about to hit Bakersfield and I’m starving. Figure out where we’re gonna eat lunch.”
Stiles nods groggily and pulls out his phone. In the end, they just decide to grab In-N-Out. Stiles downs a Monster and takes his first shift. Scott sticks it out with Stiles. He holds his boyfriend’s hand and sings along to pop songs.
Eventually, Scott caves and curls up in the backseat. When Stiles pulls over the second time for gas and a burger, he forgets to grab more Monsters. It only takes him twenty minutes before he’s desperately looking for an exit.
“Scotty, I can’t do it anymore.”
Scott nods and they swap seats. There’s only a McDonald’s at the exit. Scott can smell it for weeks after it’s been in the car. He doesn’t have much choice because they’re already past Sacramento.
It’s only another two hours before they’re finally home. There’s light at the end of the tunnel.
Stiles keeps them awake by picking the songs and reminding Scott of all the stupid shit they used to do when they were kids. Like the three months where they refused to wear anything but superhero costumes. They would fight over who was Batman and who was Robin. Most of the time they could only settle by playing rock, paper, scissors.
He fondly remembers all the times when Stiles got his ass kicked trying to defend Scott’s honor when he used have asthma attacks. They would both be sent to the nurse’s office, while assholes like Jackson got sent to the principal’s office.
They’ve had each other’s back since day one. They’ve had some fights, but they’ve always forgiven each other. Scott looks over at Stiles and he can’t imagine Stiles being anywhere else.
They roll into Beacon Hills around ten. Instead of dropping Stiles off, Scott heads straight to his house. Both of their parents are working so Scott pulls up to an empty house. Scott doesn’t even bother telling anyone that they’re back. Whenever his mom comes back from her shift, she’ll see the car and know they made it home. He has just enough energy to wake up Stiles and drag him upstairs to his old bedroom.
They kick off their shoes before collapsing in a heap on top his bed. Scott can’t help but think he’s not back home because Stiles has always felt like home.