#scottisaac

[dragon-temeraire]

Could you please do the first apartment AU for scisaac? The one where one of them is tired and writes an angry note from the prompt list? I love your blog! Have a great day!

Thank you for the prompt, I hope you like it! (On AO3)

In Scott’s defense, it’d been a long week at the clinic, andhe’d been up most of the night helping to deliver a litter of puppies. He’dstumbled home—ending up in front of his own apartment door this time!—andflopped into bed, planning to sleep for a week at least.

Only to be yanked out of his doze multiple times by a heavy,thumping bass and the muffled sounds of people shouting and laughing. If they can’t hear each other over themusic, why don’t they turn it down? he’d thought muzzily.

He was way too tired to get into a fight, not without Stilesto back him up, so he went passive-aggressive instead. He’d swayed out into thehallway to figure out who the culprit was, then he’d grabbed a piece of paperand angrily written: I don’t care how hotyou are, you’re not allowed to be so noisy this late at night!

He’d stuck it on their door, pounding on the tape for goodmeasure, then had crawled exhaustedly back into bed. And, a few minutes later,when the noise stopped, Scott promptly slid into a deep sleep and didn’t thinkabout it again.

It’s possible, however, that he may have miscalculated where, exactly, all the noise was comingfrom. And he’s only coming to that conclusion now because Hot Scarf Guy, hisnext door neighbor, is standing at his door with note in hand, eyebrow cocked.

Scott had thought the time he’d come home drunk and tried tolet himself into Hot Scarf Guy’s apartment would be the last embarrassing thinghe did around him, but apparently that’s not to be.

(He’d originally just referred to him as Scarf Guy, purelyin hopes of warding off a ridiculous crush—Scott knows his type, okay? But whensaid crush had become unavoidable—he’d been incredibly nice about Scottpractically breaking into his apartment—he’d given in an added the hot. It was only fair.)

“You know it wasn’t me throwing that obnoxious party,right?” he says, gently waving Scott’s note.

“Oops?” Scott says, and despite the mortification he’sfeeling, he can’t help noticing just how good his neighbor looks. “I’m reallysorry.”

“It’s cool. I just didn’t want you to think I was…using my hotness to get away withsomething,” he says with a little smirk. “And I did go across the hall and tellthe actual noisy people to keep itdown, so it worked out in the long run.”

“Oh, thanks,” Scott says shyly, hoping his blush isn’tshowing.

“Yeah, I felt bad. I could hear your sad, sleep-deprivednoises—though admittedly they were very similar to the sad, drunk noises youwere making while slumped against my door the other week—and I figured I coulddo something to help.” He cocks his head. “What had you so wiped out, anyway?”

“Do you want to see?” Scott asks eagerly, bouncing a littleon his toes.

“Um, sure,” Hot Scarf Guy says, looking a little taken abackat the enthusiasm.

“Come on in,” Scott says, gesturing to the corner of hisliving room. “Have a look over there.”

Nodding, he starts to make his way over, then stops midway,turning to look back at him. “I’m Isaac, by the way,” he says. “I meant tointroduce myself earlier.”

“I’m Scott, nice to meet you,” he says, grinning brightly.Judging by the way Isaac’s eyes widen, it’s a little too sunny. Stiles isalways joking that he’s going to blind people with his smile.

“Yeah,” Isaac says, blinking a little, then turns backtoward the box in the living room.

Scott follows him, and gets to watch the expression onIsaac’s face completely transform when he sees what’s inside.

“Oh,” he says softly, crouching down. “Can I pick one up?”

“Sure,” Scott says, nodding encouragingly. “They like to beheld.”

After he’d gotten some rest, Deaton had called and asked ifhe’d be willing to take a few of the weaker puppies and look after them for alittle while. Scott had eagerly said yes, since he had two days off anyway.

“So are you, like, a pet sitter, or something?” Isaac asks,gently scooping one of the puppies up.

“No, I work for a vet,” Scott says. “And these guys had kindof a rough delivery, so I’m taking care of them and letting the mother rest.That’s why I was up so late the other night.”

Isaac nods, then waits until Scott has a puppy of his owncradled against his chest before saying, “So you think I’m hot, right? Planningto do anything about that?”

“I, um,” Scott says, nervously stroking the puppy’s back tobuy himself time. “Do you want me todo something about it?”

Isaac smiles, and he looks almost too good to be real. “Youcould ask me out on a date,” he says, suddenly fascinated by his puppy’s tinylittle paws.

“Would you actually go—” Scott starts, because sometimesthings take a minute to really sink in. “Um, I’m going to be looking afterthese guys for the next few days, but we could go on a date after that. If youwant?”

Isaac looks thoughtful for a moment, setting his puppy downin the box and picking up a different one before saying, “Well, if you can’t goout,” in a neutral tone.

Scott feels his heart sink. Was that his only chance withIsaac? Did he blow it already?

“Then we’ll just have to order in!” Isaac finishes brightly,and Scott heaves a little sigh of relief. If Isaac wasn’t going to be cool withhim spending time taking care of puppies, he probably wasn’t going to be goodboyfriend material anyway.

“That sounds great,” he says happily, then notices Isaacglancing between him and the puppy he’s holding. “What is it?”

“Oh, just trying to figure out who’s cuter, you or thepuppy,” Isaac says teasingly.

Scott is almost certainlyblushing now, he can feel the heat of it in his cheeks. He’s also probablysmiling like a dope, but he can’t really bring himself to care.

Isaac leans in close, and softly brushes his lips acrossScott’s. “It’s definitely you,” he says.

(They order takeout and watch a movie while cuddling thepuppies, and it’s honestly the best first date Scott’s ever had.)

[banshee-cheekbones]

title: make it to tomorrow [ao3: here]

main pairing: Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall

rating: Hard M

word count: ~2100 words

written for: the ‘robots′ square on my Teen Wolf Rare Character Bingo card and for the 2017 Summer Heat Mini Round over at the ROK LJ community.

summary: After all is said and done and the Breach is closed, Isaac and Scott share a moment in the catwalks above the Shatterdome, away from the victory party below.

(or, the Pacific Rim AU with "I'm so happy that we're alive" hand jobs.)

Mere hours ago, the Shatterdome had echoed with the sounds of an army prepping for war; yelling in half a dozen languages, the screech of metal against metal, the frantic, repetitive thud of booted feet crossing the expanse of the room over and over again. It’d been chaos; organized chaos, albeit, but chaos nonetheless.

Now, the vast space is filled with the sounds of joyous victory.

Isaac isn’t sure who is in charge of the music, but the speakers that are normally reserved for broadcasting announcements and orders are now spilling out pounding electronica tracks, the volume so high that the bass seems to reverberate through every surface he lays his hands upon. Drunken whoops and joyous yells break through the music every so often, along with the sharp crack of a cork exploding from a bottle of champagne.

For being an active military base, there seems to be a lot of the latter lying around.

Isaac’s sure that, if he ventured down from the catwalk, he wouldn’t have to ask for a drink. They’d shove full bottles in his arms, pour it down his throat, probably drench him in it. It’s all too possible that he’d end up on someone’s shoulders, carted around the room like a trophy or idol.

Some of the other pilots would absolutely love that. He’s sure they’re already down there having the time of their lives.

That’s all the more reason for him to stay away.

As far as he can tell, he’s the only one up in the catwalks; all the mechanics and technicians that usually fill them have abandoned their posts, are probably down below soaking in the revelry. Not that Isaac blames them; there’s nothing for them for them to be working on, after all. Every last one of the cavernous Jaeger bays is empty, their normal occupants either abandoned in the bay or ripped to pieces or blown to bits in another dimension.

Hopefully, they'll never be occupied again.

He has to believe they’ll never be occupied again, that what happened today is a permanent fix, because otherwise everything they did, all the people they lost-

(and that is not a line of thought he wants to pursue right now, because while he’s only been at the Shatterdome for two weeks, barely enough time to get to know anyone, he knows that they were good people, people with lives and hopes and dreams for after the apocalypse was thwarted, people who deserved to live)

-was for nothing.

Abruptly, the sound of nearby footsteps thudding against metal breaks through the music, and he pulls his gaze away from the deep shadows of the bay that previously held Alpha Wolf, which is now entombed in the murky waters of the ocean. Most of the overhead lights have been switched off, so it’s a few moments before Isaac can actually make out the figure of someone coming towards him. He gets ready to defend his absence from the party below, starts combing through excuses in search of one that won’t just lead to more invasive questions that he doesn’t feel up to answering.

Thankfully, before he actually has to decide on an excuse, he recognizes the figure, and he relaxes back against the sturdy railing.

“I figured you were up here,” Scott says, smiling as he leans up beside Isaac. There are three stitches holding together his eyebrow, and butterfly bandages dot his forehead and cheeks. Two of the fingers on his left hand are bound together in a splint, and dark bruises march up and down both arms, extending from his wrists to where the sleeve of his tee bisects his bicep.

All things considered, the fact that he’s in one piece, that they’re both in one piece, is something of a minor miracle.

“How was the party?” Isaac asks, sliding down to rest on the ground with his legs stretched out and his back pressed against the railing. His ankle bone is bruised, and although the painkillers that were thrust upon him in the medical bay are top-grade, it’s probably best to get off it sooner rather than later.

“Skipped over most of it, actually,” Scott says, sinking down beside him, a wince momentarily passing over his face. “Last I saw, they were hoisting Jackson around on their shoulders.”

“I’m sure he’s absolutely loving that,” Isaac mutters.

“He probably won’t even remember it tomorrow, if he keeps drinking like he was.”

It’s the last either of them say for what feels like hours. Isaac isn’t sure when Scott’s head drops down onto his shoulder, but he follows suit by carefully lowering his own head down so that he doesn’t end up resting his ear on any of Scott’s battle scars. Their hands end up entangled together shortly after, and Isaac finds himself entranced by the way their fingers slot together, like they were solely designed for that purpose.

“It’s so quiet,” Scott eventually murmurs, the words washing over where Isaac’s collarbone branches away from the collar of his t-shirt. The Shatterdome is still echoing with noise; if anything, the music and yelling has only increased in volume, but Isaac knows what Scott means.

Without the drift connecting them, without Scott sharing every single inch and hidden corner of his brain, his own mind seems painfully quiet and empty.

“It is.” If he concentrates hard, closes his eyes and does his best to block out the sounds of revelry filling every inch of space, he can still feel something connecting his mind to Scott’s. Something thin and tenuous, like a loose thread gently unraveling from a well-worn sweater.

He wonders how long they have before that thread reaches its end and tears away for good.

He wonders what that will change between them. If that will change anything.

He hopes with everything he has that it doesn’t. Scott’s the first person in years that he’s been able to depend on, and even though they’ve known each other for all of two weeks, he’s not sure if he knows how to go back to being on his own again.

Even if he was interrogated, he wouldn’t be able to definitively answer which of them leans in first; what he knows, and what matters most, is that their mouths meet and immediately meld together like they’ve been doing so for years.

They don’t stay leaning against the railing for long; Scott slowly slumps over, until he’s stretched out on his back, and Isaac is obliged to follow him. Thankfully, the catwalk is more than wide enough to safely accommodate them so, once they’ve moved safely away from the edge, they pick up right where they left off. The only difference is that, this time, Isaac is slotted between Scott’s legs, and Scott’s right hand is fisted tightly in his hair, tugging slightly whenever Isaac shifts.

He was starting to think that his hair was getting too long, but he’s definitely reconsidering that notion.

The rough metal of the catwalk scrapes against his knees, even through the thick fabric of his pants, and he can’t imagine that it feels comfortable against Scott’s undoubtedly bruised back. But when he pulls away for a moment, before he can even part his lips to ask, Scott shakes his head fiercely.

“I don’t want to move,” he says, tightening his fingers in Isaac’s hair. “I’m fine. Kiss me.”

That’s all the assurance Isaac needs to dive back in.

Part of him thinks that they should be talking about this, trying to work through things before they step over a line that they can’t come back from, but that part only remains in the forefront of his mind for a few moments. The last few weeks have been an absolute exercise in control, in keeping himself carefully between the lines, so that he didn’t jeopardize the mission. The drift was no better, because for every errant thought that slipped through, every memory of his father or every half-thought out musing about what Scott would sound like choking back a moan, there were dozens, hundreds more that he had to keep hidden away.

He’s tired of holding himself back.

The others down below are celebrating their victory with rivers of booze.

Isaac is going to celebrate by letting himself go.

His own various aches and pains let themselves be known across his body as he rolls his hips down against Scott’s, but he does his best to ignore the urge to pull away when Scott’s fingers press into a bruise or trail over a line of fresh stitches. When he braces his forehead against Scott’s to take a breath, the butterfly bandages holding Scott together scrape against his skin, and he silently apologizes for any pain he’s causing before he dives back in.

By the time Scott’s fingers yank open his button and zipper, Isaac already feels like he’s walking along the edge, whether it’s from the adrenaline that has yet to totally wane from his system or from the sheer fact that he’s alive, they’re both alive, still living and breathing and able to touch each other.

“I hope you aren’t expecting me to last,” he laughs against Scott’s swollen mouth, words trailing into a gasp as Scott’s fingers slide past the elastic of his boxers.

“I was going to say the same thing,” Scott grins, arching his hips into the line of Isaac’s thigh. “There’s always later for that.”

Later.

Hearing that word pass from Scott’s lips officially shuts down the last remnants of concern in Isaac’s mind.

When Scott’s fingers wrap around Isaac’s cock, Isaac’s breath catches in his throat. He wants to return the favor, but for a few moments, all he can focus on is the feeling of Scott’s calloused palm, the slick slide of his thumb slipping across the head of him. It’s just on the right side of overwhelming, and he thrusts his hips into the loose circle of Scott’s fist, bites back a groan as his mind finally sparks back to life. He sits back slightly, putting more weight onto his knees, so that he can better access the zipper of Scott’s pants. His fingers, normally so sure of themselves, fumble and skitter, until he finally manages to get the button open with a frustrated growl.

“Take your time,” Scott says quietly, resting his free hand on Isaac’s face. The metal of his splint is warm against Isaac’s cheekbone and he twists to press his lips to it, another silent apology.

The real thing can wait until later.

He gets Scott’s zipper down with more ease, yanks his pants down his hips until he can get his hand inside. It’s far from a great angle; warning twinges of pain shoot through his wrist, but he ignores them.

What’s a little more pain, after all?

In the end, he doesn’t have to worry about finding a way to work through a wrist cramp; before the warnings can turn into the real thing, Scott spurts onto Isaac’s fingers with a sudden gasp. His head drops back against the catwalk with an alarmingly loud thud that seems to echo. The grip of his fingers around Isaac’s cock grows tighter, and he twists his wrist in a unfamiliar way that makes fireworks go off behind Isaac’s eyes.

He comes with his teeth pressed into Scott’s bottom lip and the taste of blood in his mouth.

Who the blood belongs to, he couldn’t say.

Once he’s gotten his breath back, he wipes his hand off on the thigh of his pants and carefully lowers himself to the ground at Scott’s side, wincing as every ache and pain that he’s been ignoring makes itself known with a vengeance, painkillers be damned. Scott wipes his own hand off on the hem of his shirt before carefully tucking himself back into his pants. There’s a fine sheen of sweat covering his face, and when he rolls his head to face Isaac, so close that their noses brush together, a smile more radiant than the nuclear heart of a Jaeger splits his mouth.

“We’re here,” he says. One of the bandages dotting his forehead is slowly turning red, the skin underneath freshly split open. “We’re here.”

Now that the adrenaline has started to melt away, replaced by pain and rational thought, Isaac is ready to admit that, at some point, they’ll have to talk further. They can’t just ignore what happened today, all of it; they need to mourn for the people they lost, find their place in a world no longer on the edge of disaster, figure out how they fit together without the drift to tie them together.

But all of that can wait for tomorrow.

“Yeah,” Isaac says, dropping one hand to Scott’s chest, right above his pounding, beautifully strong heart. “We’re here.”

He leaves the I’m not going anywhere unspoken, but he trusts that somehow, Scott hears it all the same.

[bostoncityandpress]

Portrait mode in effect as Ed Harding and Mike Lynch report live from Houston for Me-TV Boston wcvb @ScottIsaacs

http://toplocalnow.com/us/boston?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

[leeeeeex]

Scott/Issac!AU: "Against the Walls" (x) - written by killym

[avxilio]

"What are you doing here, and dressed like that?" Scott asked with wide eyes. Isaac smiled sheepishly, "Umm... Did I forget to tell you we're going on a date?"

[swingsetindecember]

jen's scott/isaac fic recs

scott/isaac centric fics

Breathing by missmishka [After the events of 2x08 "Raving," all that matters to Isaac is that Scott keeps breathing.]

Setting Bones by starbeast [Every time Scott gets injured in the line of duty, Isaac is the half-human, half-Romulan medic who takes care of him. This is one of those times.]

They Call It Puppy Love by kleinefee92 [“It smells like Scott in here.” Oh. “Oh. Uh - well, that makes sense, I guess. He’s slept here enough over the years, and his mom started making him keep clothes here after he came home messy a few too many times when we were younger.” Which Stiles will insist to his dying day was never actually his fault. Not that Mrs. McCall or any of the other concerned parties ever believe him. “Do you need to talk to him, or something?” “Or something,” Isaac mumbles.]

it’s been a long cold lonely winter by vlieger [Scott frowns at his mom's favourite rosebush for a long time before he says, "I just have feelings."]

Touching in Just Enough Points by ObsessedOne [Five times the pack noticed how close Scott and Isaac were getting. (and the one time Scott did, too)]

Room With a Longview by Nokomis [Scott just really wants Isaac and his dick to be happy, okay. It’s what friends are for.]

fics that feature scott/isaac as a secondary couple in a significant way

taking the bus to chinatown by hito

Tis The Season Baristas Fear The Most by haynnes

[kurogabae]

Scott finds out what Derek did to make Isaac leave and goes to his apartment and kicks in the door before growling "YOU DID WHAT?"

[fandomvideo-blog]

strange and beautiful

[ciscobarry]

au where isaac is a college student and is stopped by hot cop!scott because he was "swerving" on the road and scott's like "sir, have you been drinking tonight?" and isaac's like "no, but would you like to get a drink /with/ me, officer?" and basically hot cop!/college student! au please give it to me 

[nokomiss]

Room with a Longview

Room with a Longview

Summary: Scott just really wants Isaac and his dick to be happy, okay. It's what friends are for.

Pairing: Scott McCall/Isaac Lahey

Word count: 3500

Rating: M

AN: For Littlewitch34! Huge thanks to Lielabell for the beta. <333  This is ridiculous and I have no idea where it came from.

Snippet:

"And Isaac's masturbatory habits are our problem how?" Stiles doesn't sound particularly concerned.

  "It's been two weeks!" Scott's voice raises a little too much. He quiets down again for the next part. "I'm supposed to be helping him keep control! What if he snaps?"

[avxilio]

Teen Wolf AU: Allison is exactly like Kate from the beginning.

"Get him out of there!" Isaac roars at Allison, already wolfed out. Allison simply smirks, resting her crossbow on her shoulder. Isaac takes a step forward, intent on attacking her, but stopped when she held up a remote.

"If you take one step closer, I'll fill up the container with Wolfsbane." Isaac snarls, but stays where he's at, conflicted on what he should do.

[theroseandthebeast]

I'm gonna write a fic where Stiles is the one who's slow on the uptake, and thinks Isaac is trying to steal his best friend

Isaac keeps bringing Scott things! And they're always together! Playing video games, and watching movies, and going on long runs together! And they keep tackling each other during lacrosse practice! Is it because Stiles isn't a werewolf? Not cool, Scott, not cool. And finally Stiles - because he would totally spy on the two of them, he really would - sees them out at dinner somewhere, and he's about ready to storm in and let all his mortified, hurtful feelings out, when Scott leans across the table and grazes his mouth just across Isaac's, barely anything, barely worth being called a kiss, except for the way Isaac's thin little mouth goes soft and slack, one hand coming up to cup the weird, uneven line of Scott's jaw, and - holy shit, they're dating. They're in love.

Then, of course, Stiles is upset that Scott didn't come to him with his Big Gay Freakout, but he gets over it. He decides to forgive Isaac too, grudgingly, because anyone who could put up with Scott's fumbling ideas of romance probably deserves him, or something.

He tells everyone about the stalking in his Best Man speech though. Obviously.

[fandomvideo-blog]

Blindsided

[kelvintimeline]

melissa seems very used to loud noises coming from scott's room

i'm going to pretend it's not about scott's new violent tendencies

and more about isaac living there

[wheresyourmoose-blog]

Just Breathe [Scott/Isacc]

rating: M summary: "What's it like?" Isaac asked. There was really no way for Scott to explain what an asthma attack was like, so he had to show the other boy instead. word count: 3,870 author: missmishka

[muchfic-manypair]

Can you do some Scisaac?!!??!! :D I'm greedy I want all ur not!fic

i don’t know why these keep coming out platonic, but i tried to get away from it for you, my dove. 

--

after isaac moves in with the mccalls, things in his life change and yet always somehow stay the same. derek is still standoffish with the entire pack, still getting over the loss of boyd and erica and the relief of not having to deal with any kind of super alpha pack on steroids. isaac can’t really blame the guy; derek hadn’t been acting like himself the entire time they’d been under attack, and isaac only holds being kicked out against him just...a little bit. he’s making derek work it off.

his day to day activities don’t change. he spends time with derek, with the pack, with melissa, who tries to teach him how to cook and also execute a durable suture because isaac seems to be the least squeamish around blood and also the most calm in a pressing situation. she hopes he never has to use this newfound knowledge, but she also feels better knowing that she’ll have a few less unexplained absences from work when she has to patch them up in the back parking lot in the one area where there are no cameras or streetlights.

he has his own room now, one that he’s not afraid to let people in without inviting them, where he can leave the door hanging open because he’s not afraid of what’s on the other side. where melissa brings his basket of clean laundry up and sets it in the inside of his closet, where scott leans against the door frame and jokes about getting mexican food like he thinks the joke is still funny. this, to him, is the safest room in the world, the place where he finds the most comfort and belonging he’s had since he was a kid.

old habits die hard, so he still finds himself doing the dishes even when melissa doesn’t ask, and he vacuums and will offer to do laundry (which melissa only lets him do when it’s scott’s dirty clothes - she can deal with a lot of things, but a teenage boy who’s not her son throwing her dirty underwear into the washer is not one of them) ;and he helps her do yard work when fall and spring roll around. he finds these jobs to be satisfying now that he doesn’t have to worry about being locked in a freezer for not doing them “correctly”. 

basically isaac goes to school, comes home, does his homework and what little housework there is so melissa can relax when she gets home, and hangs out with scott.

scott. that’s...that’s where things change a lot.

he and scott are a lot closer than he ever imagined them being, honestly. he knows more about scott than he really wants to, given his own intense need for privacy, but he could probably compete with stiles in a “who knows scott better” contest and put up a pretty good fight. for the most part, they just spend a lot of time together playing video games when stiles is out with malia, or teaming up against the rest of the pack in trivial pursuit because somewhere along the line, scott discovered he had an elephant’s memory when it comes to pop culture facts. it’s great. isaac has a real best friend, one he can confide in if he ever feels the need, and there’s a weird comfort he finds in that.

it’s allison’s death that changes everything.

isaac has nightmares almost every night of her, of all the things he could (and should) have done to save her, because she was important, she was a warrior, she was everything this pack needed to survive and just like that she was gone, and it didn’t make sense and it wasn’t right and isaac would have gone in her place in a heartbeat because lydia, and scott, even stiles, needed her more than they needed him.

he works through it, though, because he has to be strong for scott, who’s mourning and trying to figure out how they all work without the one person who anchored them all together, who needs someone he can lean on who can be there more often than melissa, who’s picking up more and more shifts at the hospital lately because they’re short on staff.

so one night, after isaac wakes up from another nightmare, he hears scott whimpering down the hall in his room. isaac knows he won’t sleep again for the rest of the night, so he tip-toes down the hallway and wanders into scott’s room. it’s heartbreaking, really, to watch someone so strong get lost in the throes of his own nightmare, probably reliving the moment where he felt the last of allison’s life drain from her body, so isaac does the only thing he can do.

he climbs into bed with scott and pulls him close.

derek told him once that close proximity can be comforting to werewolves, that in this respect they aren’t that different from actual wolves. it takes long minutes, but scott eventually settles into isaac’s embrace, breath evening out as he falls deeper into sleep. the problem is that scott is lying on isaac’s arm, and isaac really doesn’t want to wake him up, so he just kind of...stays there.

the next morning, when isaac is pouring himself a bowl of serial in the kitchen, scott offers a quiet thanks and reaches for an orange. and that, isaac thinks, is the end of that.

only it doesn’t stop happening.

it’s not even nightmares after a while, they just keep falling asleep together in scott’s room like sharing a bed with your bro when you’re both 17 is totally normal. and maybe, say, for two guys in a relationship with each other this might be normal, but scott and isaac aren’t in a relationship, so why does isaac keep sleeping here?

it doesn’t seem to bother scott, though, because he never asks about it, there’s no good-natured ribbing about how isaac uses him as a safety blanket, no subtle hints that maybe he should go sleep in his own room, nothing. scott never mentions it, not once, so isaac just sort of takes it to mean that scott doesn’t mind, and if isaac is being honest, he really doesn’t mind it either.

it’s when, a few months later, he finds melissa in the spare room - isaac’s room - with paint chips that he remembers that he hasn’t slept in here in at least two weeks.

instead of asking what she’s doing in there, planning on re-doing his room for whatever reason, he marches down the hall to scott’s room, shuts the door, and asks him what they’re doing.

“your mom is repainting my room, scott.”

he frowns. “why?”

“because i haven’t slept there much in the last few months?”

“ah.”

“so please,” he begs, “please tell me why i keep sleeping in here, and if i should keep sleeping in here, before i have to ask your wonderful, wonderful mother what the hell she’s doing in there thinking purple walls are a thing that’s going to happen?”

scott seems to give the question considerable thought, if the ten minutes it takes him to respond says anything.

“i’m just going to state some facts, okay?”

isaac makes a sweeping gesture and says, “please, i’m all ears.”

“you’re not seeing anybody. i’m not seeing anybody. we’ve been strictly sleeping together for...a very long time. so, is this, like, a thing?”

“scott, bicycles and t-shirts are things. what you’re talking about is much more than that.”

“that’s the thing, isaac!” he says, exasperated. “i don’t know what this is, you don’t know what this is, so maybe we should just figure out this thing together?”

and, shockingly, that makes perfect sense to isaac. does he have romantic feelings for scott? he doesn’t know. could he? he doesn’t know that either. all he knows is that scott is comfort, scott is safety, and maybe, scott could be something else too. 

“fine.”

scott smiles and waves him over. “fine. fine’s good.”

“you’re an idiot.”

“but you’ll cuddle me anyway,” he replies, resting his head on isaac’s shoulder.

yeah. yeah, he will.