Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/899967.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Isaac_Lahey/Scott_McCall, Allison_Argent/Isaac_Lahey/Scott_McCall
  Character:
      Isaac_Lahey, Scott_McCall, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Sharing_a_Bed, Hair-pulling, hair_petting, All_the_hair_kinks, And_hands,
      Fluff_and_Smut, Submission, Alphas_and_Betas_it's_a_whole_thing, Spoilers
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-27 Words: 5950
****** What I Want You To Do... Is Go On and Use Me Too ******
by miniature_sophie
Summary
     Isaac really doesn't know what's going on with him lately. It started
     with people playing with his hair, and now he feel's like he's going
     crazy, and what gives? All he ever really wanted was Scott.
Notes
     My darling Laura Rose had a birthday and I made her a thing. (Isn't
     that always how it starts?) It is the very thing below you're about
     to read. Head's up: It's a Scisaac thing. Stiles and Isaac become
     bros, because that's all I want. And then there's some implied
     Allison/Isaac/Scott, kind of.
~*~
“You’ll love this,” Scott says to Stiles, drawing Isaac’s attention.
 
Scott’s waving him on over to where Isaac is sitting on the bench of one of the
picnic tables out in front of the school. Stiles looks about as dubious as he
usually does when anything involving Isaac comes up. Isaac bites the inside of
his cheek a bit; he finds recently that now he sometimes regrets not making a
great impression on Stiles. It makes his life… definitely more awkward than it
could otherwise to be.
 
Scott hops up to sit on top of the table and without warning plunges his
fingers right into Isaac’s hair. Isaac’s confused for .2 seconds and then he’s
just happy because Scott starts scratching. Head scritches are about half a
step removed from nirvana, in Isaac’s opinion. He doesn’t really notice that
his eyes slip closed and then just sort of stay that way. And then there are
two hands and it’s the best.
 
It’s Stiles’ laugh, bright and sudden, that gets Isaac to open his eyes and
understand that they’re both petting him. He shakes his head to dislodge
himself from them and looks around uncomfortably. His whole face feels tight
and hot with embarrassment.
 
“Guys… we’re at school.”
 
“Oh my god, you actual puppy,” Stiles says, going right for the sweet spot
behind the ears. “C’mere boy. That’s a good boy.”
 
It feels amazing but it’s also probably the most mortifying experience ever, so
he bats Stiles hand away, harsher than perhaps necessary. Stiles backs up,
laughing, his hands raised as if to say “unarmed”.
 
Isaac firmly wants to believe he’s not blushing, but wouldn’t bet money on it.
He turns to Scott. “What gives?”
 
Scott grins like a thousand volts and ruffles his hair. “It’s the most
werewolf-y thing I think any of us do! It’s so classic.”
 
“Were you like that before the bite?” Stiles asks.
 
Isaac thinks about it, and it very painfully, suddenly occurs to him that no,
thank you very much, he was not. He glares at Stiles and stands up, grabbing
his stuff to leave.
 
“I’ll see you at home,” he says tersely to Scott, not bothering to turn around.
 
~
 
Predictably, Scott is exactly what Isaac needs when he finally gets home.
 
He spots Isaac through the doorway to the living room and walks over, but
pauses. A distorted corner of light coming through the window lands on his jaw,
and he stands perfectly still just outside the boundary of the room. He stares
until Isaac looks up and their gazes meet, gives him the perfect amount of
silent I’m Sorry eye contact-- waits it out while Isaac’s heartbeat and scent
go from pissy to resigned and then to forgiving. And when Isaac shrugs and
nods, only then does he stroll into the room and plop down next to him on the
couch with The Crucible.
 
Isaac grabs his copy from the table, and lays down to rest his head on Scott’s
thigh. Scott doesn’t run his fingers through Isaac’s hair. But Isaac suspects
it’s not because he feels weird about it now. More likely, Scott unreasonably
wants him to actually do his homework instead of just falling asleep on his leg
and drooling. Not that that has ever happened (two or three times). They read
in silence for a while.
 
“Whoa dude, this is racy,” Scott murmurs, suddenly, half chuckling. “You loved
me, John Proctor, and whatever sin it is, you love me yet! Damn.”
 
Isaac laughs. “Yeah, and he.. what was it?” Isaac flips back a page or two
“...took her from her bed at night? While his wife was in the same house?”
 
“Oh yeah, he sucks.”
 
“Right? Who does that?”
 
They read until Melissa comes home. She’s off night shifts for the next week.
She makes burgers (super rare) and oven fries (super crispy) for dinner, which
Isaac and Scott devour so quickly Melissa makes a crack about breaking the
sound barrier. After dinner they watch a little more TV and then head up to
bed.
 
Isaac hesitates in front of Scott’s door, wobbles in his trajectory. He’d been
on autopilot, headed for Scott’s bed. But every night he’d ended up in Scott’s
bed before had been because they’d both just been in his room and conveniently
fallen asleep there. Isaac turns sharply at the last second to head to his
room, but falters, still unsure. He feels like an idiot, tripping over his own
feet when he obviously has the benefit of supernatural balance and agility.
 
Scott looks at him with soft, confused eyes. Then he reaches out and grabs the
side of Isaac’s sleeve, tugging him forward.
 
“Stay. With me,” he says, his voice a soft rumble. He reaches up and slides his
fingers into Isaac’s hair, pulling gently. Isaac exhales heavily. “If you want
to.”
 
“I want to.”
 
“Awesome,” Scott says, grinning, and pulls him through the door.
 
It’s the first time they intentionally climb into bed together, and Isaac can’t
even handle the way his wolf wants to leap across the bed and burrow into
Scott’s side. It takes him a long time to fall asleep.
 
~
 
Stiles, as Isaac really feels he should have anticipated, is exactly what Isaac
doesn’t need when he gets to school the next morning.
 
“So were you?” he says, popping up next to Isaac at his locker.
 
Isaac frowns, confused. “What?”
 
“Rewind. Yesterday. Were you like this before you took the bite?”
 
Isaac hates that he flinches. But. This is school. And it’s the beginning of
his day, he has stuff to do. Things he really, really wants to focus on.
Starting his day out by ruminating on exactly why it is he revels in any kind
of physical affection is a little brutal. And Isaac knows from experience that
this particular dark cloud can follow him for a long goddamn while. Forget the
school day, this could last weeks. Especially when it comes out of left field.
 
But that’s Stiles, isn’t it? So rarely will Stiles bleed you on his own sharp
edges, but on the fucking daily he’ll bang your own back into you.
Accidentally. So you can’t even blame him. Well, you can if you’re Derek and
almost entirely composed of sharp edges. Stiles is fucking dangerous for people
like him and Derek.
 
“I-- no. I wasn’t. Not that it’s your business at all.”
 
“Excuse you. It totally is. I’m doing research.”
 
“Research,” Isaac repeats, flatly. “Right.”
 
“I am! I want to know if you develop more dog-like--”
 
Isaac cuts him off with a glare and a flash of yellow eyes.
 
“--fine, whatever-- wolf-like habits, mannerisms, behaviors, tendencies,
affectations--”
 
“I get the point, Stiles.”
 
“Right, well?”
 
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
 
“Oh, come on!”
 
“I’m not interested in being your lab rat, Stiles! No one is. That is not a
tempting offer, okay?”
 
“Dude. I didn’t mean...” Stiles backs away a step or two, he rubs his hand over
the back of his neck. “Got it. Sorry. I’ll, yeah.”
 
Isaac doesn’t know how to feel as Stiles backs away. He should be happy that he
got him to back off; that’s what he wanted. But he doesn’t, quite. He tries to
sort it out on the way to Trig.
 
Because on one hand, Stiles can fuck off. It’s not Isaac’s job to sit down and
explain the human-werewolf... change process or whatever and its side effects
to Stiles. Like, in any way. It’s actually no one’s job, because Stiles isn’t a
werewolf and clearly doesn’t want to be. But on the other hand, obviously he
does whatever it is he does to help Scott through whatever fresh hell pops up
next... and Isaac gets that. That’s a worthy cause. He wouldn’t want to impede
that.
 
So that’s what he’s chewing over by the time he gets to Trig. And the more he
thinks about it (ignoring the class discussion entirely) the more he realizes
for some reason the thought of upsetting Stiles, and by extension Scott, is
something that makes him twitchy and uncomfortable. Almost panicked, even.
 
He snaps his pen in half five minutes before class ends. His wolf is whining
softly, unhappy. He bolts from the room when the bell sounds and sniffs out
Stiles on the second floor by the biology labs.
 
Stiles sees him coming and his face twists up awkwardly. It’s kind of funny,
makes Isaac grin. “Hey. Got a minute?” he asks.
 
Stiles nods, face switching to instant concern. “What’s wrong?”
 
“No, no. It’s not a... supernatural thing. Well, it’s not an...
urgent,homicidal-birds-downstairs kind of thing.”
 
Stiles’ posture relaxes and he shakes his head. “It goes without saying our
lives are weird but... we’ve reached a new level when that’s a category.”
 
Isaac laughs softly. “Yeah, no kidding.”
 
For a second they stand there. Paused in the middle of the hallway, not quite
making eye contact. “Okay, so,” Isaac starts. “About earlier. Sorry. I know
you’re just trying to help Scott. And, like, knowledge is power and all that. I
do get that. I know you’re not just being nosey.”
 
Stiles looks at him for a beat and then sighs, gesturing gratefully, with wide,
spread hands. “Thank you! God, you’d think I was a freaking enemy spy with how
hard it is to get any kind of helpful information,” he vents. They start to
walk down the hallway together.
 
“It didn’t used to be this hard to keep my best friend from dying. I’d just...
make sure he brought his inhaler with him, you know? Keep a spare one in my
backpack or something. Now... now it’s like somebody fucks up making a
werewolf-- oh my god-- and suddenly there’s a killer lizard? And Scott’s
running double crosses on geriatric psychopaths. And. Well, you were there. You
get it. I feel like I have to up my game. But there’s no fucking user’s manual
for this crap.”
 
Isaac nods, wincing slightly. “I know. It sucks. And he’s my friend too. I
don’t want him to get hurt.”
 
Stiles gives him the least subtle sideways look Isaac has maybe ever received.
The look says Friends. Yeah. The way those dudes at the beginning of the porno
are just bros sitting on the couch playing XBox. Friends. “Yeah. I know you
don’t want that,” Stiles says around a grin.
 
Isaac rolls his eyes. “Look. The thing you asked this morning-- you. I.” Isaac
pauses a few steps down the stairs, leans against the railing and looks back up
at Stiles. This is a difficult thing to explain because he hasn’t quite figured
out himself. He’ll just have to wing it.
 
“You don’t want to talk about it,” Stiles says, awkwardly.
 
“I don’t. But because when you ask me questions like that, it’s not just the
clinical facts of the case. It’s my life. And you’ve... you know about my Dad.
When my mom died I was...” Isaac wants to keep eye contact but his nerve fails
him and he looks down, grips the railing hard and scratches at it with a human
nail. “I was six and she was the one who did the hugging, you know? And I’m
sure you can guess why Dad wouldn’t have... um. So, no, I wasn’t like this
before, but. I didn’t have the opportunity to be, either. So.”
 
Stiles nods, his jaw tight. “I...” he starts.
 
“Just keep it in mind, okay?” Issac says, cutting him off. They seriously don’t
need to have any more of this conversation than necessary. “With me and,
seriously, with Derek.”
 
Stiles nods and huffs out a sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks. That’s... it is actually
helpful.”
 
“No problem. Let’s get to class.”
 
“Yeah. Let’s.” Stiles says, and smiles, hand shooting out and ruffling Isaac’s
hair.
 
Isaac fights a grin unsuccessfully and leans into it. Stiles smells so much
like Scott. His wolf wants to tackle him roll around in it.
 
~
 
Isaac originally thinks maybe it’ll only be so intense (read: hot like a
fucking forest fire) for the first few times, this sleeping-in-the-same-bed-
with-Scott thing. He figures it’ll even out-- he’ll adjust.
 
This turns out to be almost hilariously inaccurate. There’s no way to adjust.
Every morning he wakes up in Scott’s bed is a little different. Mostly this is
because Scott couldn’t stay still through the night if you strapped him down.
(Isaac fastidiously avoids the visual of Scott strapped to a bed. When he can.)
 
Scott, it turns out, could actually probably win Olympic gold in cuddling. He’s
some kind of affection savant. One morning Isaac will wake up plastered to
Scott’s chest, with one of his legs thrown over Scott’s stomach, and Scott’s
hand with a firm hold on his thigh. The next he wakes up on his side, but with
his face nestled right into Scott’s neck, and Scott’s hand-- again-- holding
him there. Most mornings he wakes up as the little spoon, with Scott’s lips
soft against his ear or neck or shoulder. Scott’s hands could be anywhere. Over
his heart, on his hip, in his hair. The only thing Isaac is adjusting to is not
being able to breathe for being so turned on before he even opens his eyes.
 
One of the first mornings they wake up together, Isaac is crushed up to Scott’s
front, their arms tight around each other and thighs crossed over each other’s.
Scott’s hands are entirely up Isaac’s t-shirt, splayed across his bare back,
and Isaac lets out this guttural, needy noise. It flies out of his mouth before
he can control it. Scott stirs, not quite awake yet, and Isaac panics. He rolls
over and away, pressing his palm to the base of his cock in the hopes that
it’ll either relieve some of the pressure or stop him from coming right there.
 
His first and foremost fear is that Scott will wake up, get awkward, and gently
suggest that maybe this is getting weird and they should sleep separately. And
there are few things on earth Isaac wants to deal with less than that. He
couldn’t face it. Not the awkwardness, and not giving up being this close to
Scott.
 
So he always makes sure to roll away before Scott fully wakes up. Which works,
as a system. Works for maintaining the pattern they have going, at any rate. It
doesn’t really work for pretending his feelings for Scott aren’t quickly
spiraling out of control, though. And the feelings themselves are a whole other
yawning abyss that Isaac would very much like to pretend isn’t there.
 
Because. It’s not just attraction, and it’s not just affection, and it’s not
just admiration. It’s this whole other thing that he can’t name and wishes like
hell he could. He thinks at first it must be because they’re both werewolves,
but that doesn’t hold up. They’re not pack. It’s different and more and less
than just being the same creature. And then for a couple nights he banks on it
being that he’s just a really horny teenage boy. But that doesn’t ring true
either. Morning wood on both their parts is pretty involuntary, and Isaac can’t
dodge the fact that it’s the waking knowledge and feel of Scott, the smell of
them both permeating the sheets, that gets him even harder. And that’s
infinitely more difficult to will away with gross or boring thoughts.
 
He thinks maybe the best solution to all this is just going to sleep in his own
room. But he can’t stay away. Doesn’t want to. So... he just keeps following
Scott to bed and disentangling himself in the morning when he thinks Scott’s
waking up. For the most part, Isaac is pretty sure he has it under control. He
wakes up, indulges as much as he can, and rolls over and away once Scott starts
to wake up. It’s a pretty good system, Isaac thinks.
 
Until the morning he wakes up and Scott is smelling him.
 
When Isaac opens his eyes Scott is hovering above him, one hand balancing on
either side of his head, and his face buried in Isaac’s neck. It’s incredible,
feels amazing, but Isaac knows he’s going to get hard and he panics again. He
snaps his hips down and pushes at Scott’s chest.
 
“Good morning to you too, and what the hell?” He says, trying for humor.
 
Scott laughs into his neck but out maneuvers him and stays with his nose in
Isaac’s throat. “You smell different.”
 
“I what?”
 
“Different. I just noticed. I’m trying to figure out what it is.”
 
“Your breath tickles,” Isaac says, honestly, squirming.
 
“Tough luck. I want to figure this out.”
 
“Come on, I have to get up and shower,” he says, reaching up to break out of
the cage Scott’s created with his arms.
 
Scott’s not having any of it, and pins both his wrists together above his head
lightning fast. “Please. Just a minute. It’s driving me nuts.”
 
“Dude.” Isaac’s voice is strangled. He can feel his entire body flushing with
heat. It’s embarrassing how hard his heart is suddenly beating, and he knows
Scott can hear it.
 
“Just stay still,” Scott says, firmly. Isaac wants to sass back about how
ridiculous this is. But he turns his neck up to Scott. Couldn’t react any other
way if he wanted to. It’s instinct.
 
And then he realizes Scott smells slightly different too. Sharper? Earthier?
More... something. Still Scott, but... he can’t pin it. He breathes deep while
Scott does the same.
 
“You too. Your scent.” Isaac says softly.
 
Scott nods into Isaac’s throat, his lips brushing up and down it as well. They
stay like that, with Scott pinning his wrists, for what seems like a long time.
 
“Fuck. I don’t even know,” Scott says, pulling back. His eyes dart all over
Isaac.
 
And Isaac feels like maybe the game is up, because he knows he must look
wrecked. Flushed cheeks and hooded eyes and anything else that screams about
how badly he needs Scott. But Scott just grins, hops off him and runs his
fingers through Isaac’s hair.
 
“I’ll figure it out eventually,” he says, smiling and tugging lightly.
 
He sits up, rolls off the bed and goes to pick a shirt out from the dresser,
generally gets on with his morning. Isaac can’t move. Can’t hear beyond the
sound of his heart crashing around in his chest. Because he thinks he might
know what Scott smells like now that he didn’t before and it might be giving
him a heart attack.
 
~
 
Isaac bumps into Allison in the crowded first floor hallway the next day. She
falls against him after some dickhead blows right by her and Isaac catches her
on reflex against his chest. She’s like satin over steel.
 
She’s soft as rose petals but he can feel her muscles ready to enact her
training at any moment. Her eyes are that crazy, deep brown and Isaac can smell
lilacs and jasmine underneath gun oil and silver knife polish. She smiles,
embarrassed, and fuck, those dimples could knock a man flat from a hundred
paces. His wolf want to nuzzle into her side.
 
Isaac is suddenly so freaked out he flinches. She makes a confused face, but
pushes away from him. She says “Thank you” distinctly but softly, and then
disappears into the crowd.
 
Isaac feels his heart beating all the way up in his throat.
 
He thinks: What the hell?
 
and then Was that fucking really...?
 
and then Oh, shit.
 
He tries not to flip out but the hallway is really crowded and the lack of
space is not helping. He maneuvers his way down the hall and slips into an
empty chem lab. He shuts the doors and leans his head against the cool stone of
the wall right next to it.
 
Stiles, fine, he can wrap his head around why his wolf would want to keep him
happy, safe. But Allison? She shot him. Stabbed him. Has actually shot people
he cared about. She went through a lot of rough shit, no kidding, but she still
shot hima lot of people he likes and also her family would mostly like him
dead. This doesn’t make any sense.
 
Yeah, she’s hot. Breaking News: Water is wet, grass is green, Allison Argent is
stunningly beautiful. But he can’t figure out why his wolf is suddenly happy to
see her, happy to smell her, too. It doesn’t make any sense and he can’t
breathe.
 
He pulls air into his lungs raggedly and then tries to evenly let it out. Then
he tries again. Like he used to coach Erica to do in their training.
 
Erica.
 
Fuck, he misses her.
 
Erica, who he might be able to actually talk to about this insanity. He can
almost see her sardonic smile blooming from behind her bright red lipstick.
 
“What’s your damage, baby boy?” she’d say. Probably.
 
He doesn’t know what he’d say back. He’d screw around trying not to answer,
most likely.
 
She’d get it out of him though. The way he’s suddenly burning to make Stiles
feel happy and safe. The way he’s beginning to suspect he’s so
thoroughlyScott’s that if he shoved Isaac down on his knees in front of Allison
Argent’s spread legs and told him to lick her until she came screaming, Isaac
is starting to think he’d do it and love it?
 
“Sounds like a hell of a Friday night,” he hears Erica teasing in his head.
Fuck.
 
~
 
Isaac doesn’t mention anything about any of this until a week or so later. He
should have guessed Stiles would be the one to make him talk about it.
 
Stiles, once befriended, can never be distanced or removed. It is an
impossibility. So Isaac has mostly just gotten on with the business of adapting
to the sudden enormous boost in physical affection and constant attention. It’s
not a hardship, really. As previously established, Isaac loves it. He still
feels startled and weird about how much he loves it (how much his wolf loves
it) but Stiles and Scott are both such normalizing factors. They just add to
their list of unconscious gestures shared between best friends the scratching
at the nape of Isaac’s neck and the twisting of his curls around their fingers.
(Melissa watches them all with polite yet unsuppressed wonder whenever she
thinks they’re not looking.)
 
The days are still relatively warm and long, so it’s a Wednesday afternoon that
finds the three of them outside as they work their way down the list of study
guide questions assigned for Heart of Darkness. They’ve been working quietly
for the most part, when Scott mumbles “Need food. I’ll bring some back,” and
hops up. He jogs back over the lawn to the house.
 
Stiles glances after him and then reclines back on his elbows, knees splayed
wide apart and rocking back on forth to his own internal rhythm. He starts
chewing on his pen right as he starts to stare at Isaac. It’s weird. The full
focus of Stiles Stilinski is not something to be taken lightly.
 
“What?” Isaac says.
 
“He’s not with Allison. Not going to be again any time soon. Have you... you
know, asked or hinted or something? Anything?”
 
Isaac’s jaw drops open a little bit. “No. No! He’s... it’s not like that.”
 
“Bullshit.”
 
“For the love of-- not... entirely like that.”
 
“Well, what’s the part that’s not you jonesing hardcore for the McCall crown
jewels? ‘Cause that part I’m clear on.”
 
Isaac grimaces and laughs at the same time, which was not an expression he knew
his face could make before extended periods of time spent with Stiles. “He
could be listening,” Isaac mutters, cutting his eyes back to the house.
 
“You would have told me already if he was,” Stiles reasons.
 
“You’re a sadist.”
 
“Off topic,” Stiles says, snickering.
 
“I’m kind of confused. About him.”
 
“I thought you were declaredly bi.” Stiles says with a thoughtful tilt of his
head.
 
Isaac looks back incredulously. “How do you even--? I mean regularly confused.
Not sexually confused.”
 
“I’d say not,” Stiles says, bouncing his eyebrows up and down outrageously.
 
“Wow, don’t strain yourself with all that subtlety.”
 
Stiles laughs. “So what’s the confusion, if not that?”
 
“He smells like...” Isaac starts, then pauses, coming up short. Short of what,
he’s not really sure. On courage, maybe, or conviction. It’s only been a few
days, since he figured it out. Thinks he’s figured it out, at any rate. It’s
still so fucking strange. Oh, and also impossible. And a little scary.
 
“Flowers? Werewolf musk? Your favorite candy? Your mate?” Stiles teases, eyes
bright.
 
“Myalpha,” Isaac says, seriously. Stiles’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise. The
pen he’s been chewing on falls right out of his mouth. Then he recovers.
 
“Ew, what like he smells like Derek?”
 
Isaac rolls his eyes, then shakes his head. “No. No. And this is fucking
insane. But. Derek smells like the wolf who bit me. Scott smells like my alpha.
And Derek doesn’t anymore.”
 
Stiles blinks a few times and sits up. “...Shit.”
 
“Yeah.”
 
“Shit.”
 
“I know!”
 
“Have you told him?”
 
“Which one?”
 
“Oh, fuck.”
 
“Exactly. So, yeah. Maybe I should figure out what that means, before...”
 
Stiles shrugs and taps his pen on the side of his notebook. “Maybe.Or. Maybe
you two can figure it out together.”
 
Isaac opens his mouth to say something but hears Scott turning the door handle
behind him and snaps his mouth shut.
 
“Just saying,” Stiles mutters with a shit eating grin, and goes back to marking
up his study guide.
 
~
 
Isaac can’t bring himself to talk to Scott about it, and thus about anything
else that Stiles might be badgering him to try and talk about. The whole idea
is nuts. It’s impossible, and crazy, and Isaac is really starting to think he’s
coming unhinged.
 
An omega cannot be a beta’s alpha, he says to himself, again and again. That is
fucking crazy.
 
So he puts off Stiles’ questions, ignores Allison even more thoroughly than he
did before, and relies on his morning disentangling procedure with Scott. And
this makes up a nice system. That in no way solves any of his problems. And
also doesn’t help him resolve the fact that he might be going a little nuts.
 
And then, one night about a week into this, Isaac’s very careful system goes to
shit.
 
It’s two in the morning when he wakes up to Scott moaning softly in his ear.
Isaac’s eyes flutter open and the first thing he registers is that he’s so
warm. Everything is heat and pressure and it smells like the best kind of hazy,
hot sex. Then he registers that Scott is completely on top of him, and then
that Scott is still mostly asleep.
 
Isaac is around half-asleep, which makes him the responsible party here,
probably? But Scott is rubbing his dick against Isaac’s and moaning in his
sleep, and Isaac just doesn’t know what to do. He tries to form a plan but
Scott grinds down and it feels so fucking good he just grabs at Scott’s hips
and holds on for dear life.
 
Scott’s murmuring in his sleep. “Good... yeah... so good,” it sounds like.
 
Isaac can’t really register much beyond the feel of Scott’s weight pressing him
down. His hips start rocking and the friction makes him whimper. It just feels
amazing, being underneath Scott while he moans into his neck. It feels right.
It smells like his alpha is happy with him.
 
Isaac groans and shudders. It’s all he wants, really-- for Scott to be his
alpha and for Isaac to make him happy. But he can’t just rub off on Scott while
he’s asleep. That’s messed up.
 
He fights a sharp cry when Scott circles his hips and it sends flames of heat
licking through him. Isaac forces his eyes open, tries to remember how to
control his limbs. He reaches up and takes Scott’s face in his hands.
 
“Scott,” he says, voice a sleepy grumble. “Scott, wake up.”
 
Scott takes a moment of convincing, but his eyes do flutter open. He draws in a
big breath of air, confused. He looks down at Isaac, and Isaac can see the
moment he registers what’s happening. His jaw falls open a little bit.
 
“Woah. Did... I?”
 
“Yeah. You were asleep.”
 
“I’m so sorry,” he mutters, sounding embarrassed. “I didn’t... Isaac, I didn’t
mean...”
 
Isaac lets his head fall back against the pillow. “I know.”
 
“I was having this dream...”
 
“About... about Allison?”
 
Scott shakes his head and Isaac’s heart stutters. “No, just this...” he grins a
little, shifts off of Isaac and onto his side. “...this fucking crazy sex
dream.”
 
“You were talking in your sleep. It sounded... pretty awesome, actually.” Isaac
says, unable to keep the flirt out of his voice. He’s still so turned on.
 
“It was. It’s a little less awesome that I mauled you in my sleep.”
 
Isaac shakes his head and swipes a hand over his eyes. “You and I have actually
been mauled, is the thing. So... this was not that.”
 
“You know what I mean.”
 
“Yeah, but it’s... fine.”
 
“Is it? You’re okay? I didn’t mean it. Oh my god, smell it in here. Wow,” Scott
says, laughing in disbelief. Isaac can’t help but smile. “Seriously though.
You’re okay?”
 
“Scott,” Isaac says, and his brain is baked and soaking in hormones. His whole
body is still bubbling with the feel of Scott on top of him. He’s still so
hard. Fuck the system, he thinks, and acts on instinct. He reaches out for
Scott’s hand and pulls it over to touch his hard on. “I’m, uh. I’m definitely
okay.”
 
Scott raises sleepy eyebrows, looks at Isaac through dark lashes. “Oh.
You’re... Fuck. Isaac.”
 
Scott spreads his hand out slowly and presses down on Isaac through his boxers.
It feels like he’s asking permission. Isaac’s hips jerk up into the touch and
he makes a noise that sounds like begging.
 
“Scott,” Isaac says, more breath than sound.
 
Scott snuggles closer, so their bodies are touching in one long line down their
sides. He rubs his hand slowly back and forth. Isaac bites his bottom lip and
grips the sheets hard.
 
“This is what you want?” Scott says, voice low and rumbling. Sexy as fuck, yes,
but still genuinely asking.
 
Isaac nods. “Yes. Please.”
 
Scott groans and dips his face down into the crook of Isaac’s neck to bite
down, hard and quick. The shock of it bends Isaac’s back and make him thrust up
into the pressure of Scott’s hand. Scott slides his hand under Isaac’s boxers
and wraps his fingers fully around Isaac’s cock.
 
“Fuck, Scott, please, oh.”
 
Scott runs his nose up the column of Isaac’s neck and gently bites his earlobe.
The feel of his breath is hot on Isaac’s ear and it makes him shiver.
 
“Don’t have to beg, baby,” Scott says getting a firmer grip and starting to
pump him up and down.
 
Isaac moans, short and high, and reaches out for Scott. He pulls him in with a
hand on the back of his neck. He rests their foreheads together and meets the
rhythm of Scott’s hand by moving his hips in counterpoint. It feels too good to
be real. The truth of what it feels like to have Scott jerking him off is so
fucking intense. Like every point on his skin is capable of sensation it wasn’t
just a few moments before. It doesn’t feel like he’s awake.
 
“I would though. In a heartbeat,” he says, a hair’s breadth away from Scott’s
lips, delirious with the desire to come.
 
Scott’s rhythm falters for a second. “You’d? Beg?”
 
Isaac nods frantically, hips working quicker. “Yeah. Yes. Oh, fuck. For you, I
would.”
 
“Isaac. Holy fuck.” Scott says, almost reverently.
 
He shifts and slides his other hand under Isaac neck to thread his fingers
through Isaac’s curls. Isaac sighs because it feels so nice. Gentle. Then Scott
pulls. Hard. And Isaac feels like his whole body lights up.
 
“Oh my god, Scott.”
 
Scott noses at Isaac’s now exposed neck and presses a hot, loving kiss to his
pulse point. Isaac can only register that the boy he feels down in his bones is
his alpha has kissed him for the first time, and it’s on hisjugular. It’s too
much. He feels his whole body flare with heat and he writhes against Scott as
he comes, biting back a scream that would have undoubtedly been Scott’s name.
 
He’s shaking a little bit, he realizes, when he can think again. Scott bites at
his neck, which makes him sigh and go slack. Isaac pets Scott’s hair, drunk on
sensation. Everything smells perfect. Exactly the way his wolf wants it to.
 
Scott keeps kissing his neck and petting his curls flat. “Wow,” Isaac says
feelingly.
 
“I know,” Scott says, grinning against his neck.
 
Isaac smiles softly, maybe a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even get off.”
 
Scott pulls back gives him that smile like a thousand volts again, and leans in
to kiss him on the lips this time. Scott kisses like he’s only got one shot to
tell you how he feels, like there’s only one expression of it in the whole
world and this is it. Isaac’s heart feels so full he doesn’t know what to do.
 
Scott pulls back just as quick as he ducked in. “I figured it out,” he
whispers.
 
“What?”
 
“What you smell like now. Mine. You smell like mine, now. You didn’t before.”
 
Isaac shakes his head disbelieving. He can’t believe it. This is so insane.
 
“You smell like my alpha,” he admits, “I don’t know how and I know it’s not
actually possible, but it’s true. I know omegas can’t be a betas’ alpha. But
you’re mine. I know you are. I’m... I feel fucking crazy.”
 
“You’re not,” Scott says softly, shifting to hover over Isaac on his side.
“You’re not, I promise.”
 
“No, I’m seriously worried I’m losing it.”
 
“You’re not!” Scott says, shaking his head. “I’m-- I could be. I seriously
might actually be.”
 
“What?” Isaac says, breathing still heavy.
 
“Deaton told me something. About how sometimes an alpha isn’t just born or the
wolf who killed the last alpha. But every... century or couple of centuries or
something, a beta can evolve. He said I might be one of those. Like, a true
alpha. He says he’s seen my eyes turn red.”
 
Isaac blinks and looks away for a second, shocked. But that only lasts a second
because then he bursts into a huge, happy grin. “Thank fucking god,” he says,
laughing brightly.
 
He was right. He knew it. He felt it. He’s not fucking crazy. He isn’t just so
head over heels for Scott that he bent himself into thinking he was his
freaking alpha.
 
Scott grabs his chin and holds pulls him in for a lingering kiss, then pulls
back. “We’re pack now,” he says, nipping kisses down Isaac’s jaw.
 
Isaac beams. “I really did think I was nuts,” he confesses again, still
smiling. Scott pulls back and shakes his head, looking at him with crinkled,
happy eyes.
 
“You weren’t,” he confirms, shifting so Isaac can feel him hard and hot against
his thigh. “You just knew who you belonged to.”
 
Isaac shivers and turns his head to kiss Scott, sloppy and suddenly desperate
again. Scott works his hips softly against Isaac’s thigh and runs his thumb
along his beta’s jawline.
 
“So...” he says when they break for air, with dark eyes and a dirty smile “you
wanna see about that begging thing?”
 
Isaac really, really does.
 
~*~
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