#stacksonweek

[neurodivergent-fox-demon]

Stackson Week Day 3

The Bleeding Hearts Club

Rating: mature

Other tags: trans lydia, Derek Hale/ Lydia Martin, Isaac Lahey/Scott Mccall/Allson Argent , Peter Hale/Chris Argent, Minor Character Death

triggers: fighting, drug use

Please let me know if I need to add any more tags.

Archive of Our Own

Chapter 3: Crime and Punishment

Stiles sighed as he rang Isaac’s door bell. Derek answered the door and he smiled. “Hey, big guy. It’s been a while.” 

“It’s been like three days since you ruined Chris’s salad, trying to derail the entire dinner.” Derek sighed, rolling his eyes. “What do you want, Stiles? Isaac is out with Allison and Scott.” 

Stiles checked his watch and sighed. “Oh shit. I guess I’m a little early.  I told him that I was going to come over after my date.” 

Derek snorted. “You went on a date?” He opened the door wide enough for the kid to enter the house. “Come on. He should be home any moment.” 

“Yeah, I went to a movie with Jackson.” Stiles stepped into the hall and began making his way to the living room. It was alright, I guess.”

Derek raised a brow as he followed the younger man. “Jackson? The nerd you tripped at the party and then got into a fist fight with?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Now, that is a trip.” 

Stiles scowled at him. “Don’t start with me. It was just a movie. We saw Camille Claudel and talked for a little while. It was nice, I guess.” 

Derek sighed, sitting on the couch. “That’s cool. I got the impression that you hated the guy.” Derek smiled at him. “It’s good you had a nice time. I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for you the last couple years.” 

“It’s alright. I haven’t exactly let you. I think I felt like if you all saw me upset, you’d try to fix me. I did not want to be fixed.” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Derek before lighting his own. 

Derek took a cigarette and stole Stiles’s to light it. “You’re still an asshole but that is our job, Stiles.” he chuckled and wrapped his arm around his friend’s shoulder. His phone went off and he pulled it out to check his messages. “Looks like Isaac is going to stay at Scott’s tonight.” 

Stiles groaned, throwing his head back. “I really don’t want to think about the crazy three way sex they are probably having.” He chuckled, staring at Derek. “Want to get high? I have some great pot in the jeep.” 

Derek laughed. “Yeah, sure. It’s been a while since we just hung out.” He took a drag from his cigarette and sighed. “As long as it’s just a joint or two. I’m not doing anything else stronger. I hate that you do that other shit.

Stiles groaned. “It numbs the pain a little bit, Derek. I do not want to talk about it.” He got up and ran to the jeep to get the bag of joints. He returned and sat next to Derek and handed him the bag. 

“You have like 50 joints in here, Stiles. Who sells you this crap?” Derek sighed as he lit one and handed it to Stiles. “You have got to learn the meaning of moderation.” He chuckled, shaking his head. 

“You won’t get a word out of me. I tell you, I lose my supply, and he gives me an amazing discount.” Stiles took a drag, slumping on the couch. “Let’s forget about it.” 

Derek nodded. “So… Jackson?” 

Stiles groaned. “Or we could talk about Levi.” He smirked at his friend. 

Derek glared at him. “No. Jackson.” He growled, taking his own drag. 

Stiles sighed, rolling his eyes. “What is there to know? We had coffee, went to a movie, kissed, and I said goodnight.” 

Derek hummed, nodding. “Oh, you kissed him. Are you going to see him again?” 

“It really depends on what you mean by seeing him. I’m not sure. He is my tutor and i;m supposed to meet him before forensics tomorrow.” He licked his lips and sighed. “I am not sure if we’ll go on another date. I’m not exactly sure I’m good enough to date a rich kid.” Stiles chuckled. “Tonight’s date kind of cleaned me out. I’ve kind of got $5 left.” 

Derek raised a brow at him. “Well for one, you could stop buying all the drugs and that would help.” He laughed softly. “You’d be a great guy, if you gave yourself a chance. You were always the best of us. Why did you let yourself change?” 

Stiles cursed. “You know exactly why, Derek.” He stood, pacing the room. “I do not deserve to be happy. I don’t deserve to forget what I did to Erica, but maybe I can make the pain go away for a few moments a day.”  

Derek stood and placed his hands on Stiles’s shoulders. “I am sick of watching this pity party. I stuck around long enough for Levi. He loves you and I stayed quiet because he did not want to hurt you, but you need to realize that you are the only one who blames yourself. It was a bloody accident, Stiles. It’s not like you bloody pushed Erica off that cliff.” 

Stiles ripped himself away from him. “I took her up there Derek.” He growled and stepped closer to him. “We would not… none of us would have been up there if I had not insisted on it.” Logicly he knew that he should not blame himself, but he was having trouble internalizing the concept. “Derek, you just don’t get it. She was your sister. Why don’t you hate me?” 

Derek groaned, running a hand over his face. “Because accidents happen. Maybe I blamed you for like five minutes, but I was angry.” He stared at him sadly. I don’t need to lose another brother, and that is what will happen if you continue down this path.” 

Stiles nodded and wiped away his tears. “I’m going to lose you anyway because you are not going to let Levi go to Brown without you.” He shook his head. “I love you man, but I cannot handle this right now.” He pulled him into a hug. “I’ll call you.” He did not wait for Derek to answer before running out the door and driving away. 

Derek sighed as he ran after him and watched him leave. He picked up the phone and called his father. “Sheriff?” 

Noah smiled. “Hey, Derek. How can I help you?” 

Derek chewed his lip. “Stiles was just here, but he left really upset. I’m not sure what he is going to do, but I wanted to give you a heads up.” 

The sheriff sighed, pinching his nose. “Erica?” 

“Yeah, and I think he is starting to realize that we are all leaving. I’m really worried he is going to do something stupid.” 

Noah let out a long breath. “I’ll send out a deputy to see if he can find his jeep, but all I can do is wait. Thank you for calling, Derek. I thought he would have gone straight home after his date.” 

Derek nodded. “Yeah, he came over to talk to Isaac, but Isaac was with Scott. It’s a bloody mess.” 

Noah chuckled. “Alright. I’ll call you if I hear from him.” 

“Thank you, Sheriff.” Derek sighed, hanging up the phone. 

📚

Stiles banged on the door, crying. Peter opened and stared at him. “Hey, kid. What is going on?” He opened the door and grabbed his arm, dragging him to his office. “It is almost midnight, and you’re going to wake the neighbors.” 

Stiles fumbled after him and wiped his eyes. “I need a pick me up, Peter.” He looked around the house and made an umph sound as he was thrown into a chair in the office. “Do you have some angel dust or some molly?” He hiccuped, wiping his eyes.

Peter leaned against his desk watching him. Stiles had pulled him from bed and he was in nothing but his boxers. “First, tell me what happened.” 

“I went on a date.” Stiles glared at him. “I’m kind of broke, so I’ll have to pay you next week.” 

Peter raised a brow at him. “Dates don’t usually end in tears like this. Was it really that terrible?” He walked around the desk and began looking through the drawers. “It’s on me, this time, but you have to help me grade essays tomorrow.” 

Stiles shook his head. “No, the date was fantastic, but I went to Isaac's to tell him about it. He was off with Scott, so I had to talk to Derek…” 

“Stop right there. I’ve got the picture.” He tossed him a bag with 5 pills. “So a date. This is a first for you.” 

Stiles shrugged. “Well, Jackson and I-“

Peter coughed, choking on air. “Wait, you and Jackson? That kid you got into a fight with, in my driveway, just this weekend?” 

Stiles shrugged, placing one of the pills in his mouth. “Yeah, We decided to go see a movie. I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve already decided I won’t be seeing him again.” He sighed and bit his lip. “Though, that was a really great kiss.” 

Peter nodded, raising an eyebrow at him. “Kid, you are crazy. You are punching a guy one night and kissing him the next. Are you going to fuck him tomorrow?”

Stiles glared at him. “What do you take me for? So, I’ve had a few sexual partners, but I actually don’t want to hurt Jackson like that.” He leaned his head back, letting the drug take effect. “Can I just sleep here?” 

Peter patted his shoulder. “Sure kid. I’ll make the couch up for you.” 

Stiles sighed, yawning. “What did you give me?” 

“Stop taking things from me without asking, It’s called lunesta. It’s a sleeping pill.” Peter sighed, helping him to the office couch. He knew the kid was hurting, but all he needed was some sleep. 

Stiles whimpered, laying on the couch. “You’re so fucking evil, Peter.” He sighed as he began drifting to sleep. 

“Yeah, I know, kid. See you in class tomorrow.” He turned off the lights and watched Stiles for a moment before going back to bed. 

📚

Jackson sighed, sitting across from Levi at the café. “Good morning.” He sipped his latte and smiled sadly. 

Levi looked up from his homework and frowned. “What is wrong? You have never looked less put together.” He pushed his laptop to the side so he could give the other man his full attention. 

Jackson groaned. “Have you heard from Stiles?” He chewed on his lip. “We went out a week ago, but he has been skipping our tutoring sessions all week and… Did I do something wrong?” 

Levi chewed his lip and reached over for his hand. “Did you try calling him?” 

Jackson shook his head. “He did not give me his number. I don’t want to seem to be desperate anyway. If he doesn’t want to talk to me, that’s fine, but I just wish he would let me know that.” 

Levi shook his head. “Peter said that he has been having some trouble. I’m sure he is just… I’m not really sure what to say here, Jackson. Stiles is great at pushing people away. Give him time. You really like him, huh?” 

Jackson nodded, looking at the table. “I thought our date had gone very well, and now he is completely avoiding me. Maybe I came on too strong.” 

Levi smiled at him. “Well, I have yet to hear about this date. Tell me about it.” 

Jackson tried to smile but it was a little hard. “Well, he took me to this little theater and we watched a French movie. Afterwards we went back to my dorm and he kissed me… twice.” He blushed and sipped his coffee. 

Levi smiled softly. “Stiles hates foreign films. He has to like you if he sat through that.” He gripped his hand. “How were the kisses?” 

“I felt like my heart was going to explode out of my chest.” Jackson chuckled softly. “I thought he really liked them too, but I guess he decided differently. 

Levi nodded. “Give him time. How about I talk to him for you?” 

Jackson shook his head. “You don’t have to do that. I just wish he would come back to our tutoring sessions. I don’t want him to fail just because of a bad date.” 

Levi shrugged. “I don’t know. He hasn’t even been showing up to class. If we can't get him to go back, he won’t pass with or without your help.” 

Jackson looked up at him, shocked. “He’s skipping classes too?” He shook his head, pulling at his hair. “What is he thinking? Is he alright? Dammit.” 

Levi cringed and let out a long breath. “Honestly, we really don’t know where he is. He fell asleep on Peter’s couch Monday night and when Peter got up Tuesday, he was gone.” 

Jackson growled at him. “And why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” 

Levi shrugged. “I was kind of hoping I would not have to. He has been texting his father and me. So we know he is alright, but he is refusing to tell us where he is. Peter suspects that he is on a bender.” 

Jackson shook his head. “He could get himself hurt.” 

Levi chewed his lip, trying not to cry. “He’s been gone all week and I’m so worried, but We don’t want to push, or he might not come back. I don’t know what else to do. He turns 18 tomorrow and it is not like we can force him to come back.” 

Jackson nodded. “Give me his number. Maybe I can talk to him. Hopefully, he will answer. I did give him my number.” 

Levi nodded and grabbed a napkin. She wrote down Stiles’s number. “If you find him, please call me. Tell him that we are all worried about him.” 

Jackson nodded, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m ahead in my classes. I can take a couple days off to look for him.” Jackson took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to bring my whining to you. I really had no idea, and I was feeling sorry for myself.” 

Levi shook his head. “No, I should have told you Stiles was missing.” 

Jackson nodded. “Has the sheriff tried tracking his phone?” 

“Kind of. Stiles kind of keeps his phone off a lot of the time. We’re not exactly sure when the best time would be to try to track it.” 

Jackson groaned. “How the hell am I supposed to call him?” 

Levi shrugged. “You’re guess is as good as mine. Just try. I’ll keep trying as well, hopefully one of us will get through.” 

Jackson nodded, getting up from the table. Stiles Stilinski was going to be the death of him. 

📚

“‘Ello.” Jackson let out a relieved sigh, hearing Stiles’s voice on the other side of the line. He had been calling and searching for the other man for five days now and everyone was becoming more and more desperate. 

“Stiles! It’s Jackson. Please don’t hang up on me.” Jackson cried into the phone. “Where are you?” 

Stiles groaned and sat up. He looked around the room, letting out a long sigh. “I’m not really sure.” He rubbed his eyes and stood up. It looked like he was in a hotel room but he wasn’t sure where he had gotten the money to pay for one. “I just… Why do you sound so upset?” 

“You’ve been missing for 10 days, Stiles. Everyone is going nuts.” Jackson bit his lip. “I just want to know that you’re okay.” 

Stiles looked out the window and groaned. “Looks like I’m in London. I’m fine, if not a little hung over.” He ran his hand through his hair and cringed at how much he smelled. “Let me shower and I’ll head back to Beacon Hills.” 

Jackson nodded. “Levi and I will meet you at your father’s.” 

Stiles cursed. He was not prepared to listen to his father yell at him for disappearing, as he did. “Yeah, I’ll see you later.” He grumbled and closed his eyes, trying to collect himself. “Hey, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine, Stiles. I’m just glad that you are okay. We’ve all been going around the bend with worry for you.” Jackson smiled. “See you in a few hours.” 

“Yes, No more of this partying, I guess.” Stiles sighed and hung up the phone. He stared around the room for a moment before going to shower. He could not believe that he had been gone for 10 days. His father was going to be so pissed at him. 

📚

Noah sighed, pacing his living room. “What did he say?” 

Jackson chewed on his lip, twisting his hands in his lap. “That he was in London, and that he was going to shower before heading back to Beacon Hills. I don’t think he even remembers what he’s been doing for the last 10 days.” 

Noah, placed a hand on his shoulder. “At least you were able to get through to him. I’m glad that he is coming home.” 

Levi frowned up at the sheriff. “What are we going to do when he gets here? He can’t keep on going on benders like this, or he is going to end up dead.” He had been crying for the last few days and he did not think he had any tears left. “I just want to kill himself, if he gets any worse.” 

Jackson looked over at him. “Well, we can’t be too harsh on him, or he’ll run off again.” He pushed his glasses back up his nose and fixed his hat. “I’m not sure what we should do.” 

Noah watched them both smirking. “Must I remind you both that I am the father, in this situation? I’ll be taking his car keys and sending him to bed. Anyone willing to pick him up for school tomorrow?” 

Jackson smiled, blushing softly. “I’ll pick him up, sir. Sorry for my presumption.” He turned his head hearing a vehicle coming up the driveway. “I think he is here.” 

Noah nodded and opened the door, running out to meet Stiles. Jackson and Levi got up to follow him and saw the Sheriff pulling Stiles out of the jeep and into a hug. Jackson just leaned against the door frame waiting. Stiles looked safe if not a little worse for wear. Jackson looked over at Levi and sighed. “I should get going. This is a time for family.” 

Levi shook his head and sighed. “You found him, Jackson. You are family now.” He wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Deal with it.” 

Jackson chuckled. “I just don’t want to intrude.” 

“You told Stiles you would be here.” Levi smiled, raising a brow. He tilted his head. “Come on.” He walked over to Stiles and pulled him into a hug. 

Jackson followed and smiled at him. “Hey, Stiles. I’m glad to see that you are right.” 

Stiles looked at him and grimaced. “Hey, I’m sorry that I got you mixed up in this.” He chewed his lip and shook his head. “Thanks for calling me.” 

Jackson nodded, smiling softly. “Anytime. You know… you can call me anytime if you need to talk.” 

Stiles chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “That would be nice…uh are you still okay meeting so we can study?” 

Jackson nodded, letting out a small laugh. “Yeah, of course. I better see you after school tomorrow. You have a lot of catching up to do if you are going to graduate.” He gulped. “I’ll talk to Father about excusing your absences.” 

Stiles smiled and hugged him. “Thanks man.” He stepped back, looking between everyone. “Can I go up to bed now?” 

Noah scowled at him. “We will talk more later. I am happy you are safe and have returned, but you have no idea how much trouble you are in.” 

Stiles nodded and grabbed his backpack. “I’ll see you guys around.” He made his way into the house and stumbled his way up the stairs. He was exhausted and felt like he was never going to wake up again. He collapsed into bed and immediately drifted to sleep. 

📚

Stiles glared up at Mr. Harris, shaking his head. “Why do I have to be here? You are just a chemistry professor.” He understood being pulled into the headmaster’s office earlier, but he hated dealing with Mr. Harris. The man had had it out for him since the moment he stepped into this school. At the moment, the man was yelling at him and calling him every negative name under the sun. “I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to speak to a student like that.

”If it were up to me, you would be expelled, Mr. Stilinski. As it is, the headmaster has found it in him to give you a final notice. You have an entire week to make up, and he thinks the best way to do that is to give you tests over the material that you missed.” Harris growled at him and slammed 5 test booklets on his desk. “You have 2 hours, then the headmaster wants to see you again.” 

Stiles nodded and opened the first booklet. He really wished the headmaster had chosen any other teacher to proctor these tests. 

📚

Stiles stood in front of the headmaster, with his head down. He knew that he had really screwed up, but this was getting ridiculous. He was not even allowed to attend classes until the test result came back. “I understand sir. I had not meant to be gone for so long but it was beyond my control.” 

The man nodded. “I’m not going to lecture you anymore on the subject, Stiles. You are on thin ice and you are more than capable of understanding the situation. If Jackson had not come to your aid, you would have been expelled.” He let out a breath. “I’ll make sure your tests are graded tonight, so that you may return to class tomorrow.” 

Stiles nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yes, sir.” 

Robert nodded. “I want to see you in uniform everyday. You have been stripped of all privileges. You will go to class or be in the library when on campus.” He walked around the desk and stood in front of the student. “I have talked to your father, and You may not drive to campus. You can get a ride from him, Levi, or Jackson. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Sir.” Stiles growled at him. He could not believe this. He was an adult and they were treating like a child. 

The man held up his hand. “I do not want the attitude, Stiles. No one will hear about this little incident, and I won’t even put it on record.” He placed a hand on Stiles’s shoulder. “Jackson assures me that you have such promise. I trust him, and I hope by the end of your education here, I hope that I will see whatever it is that he sees in you.”

Stiles gulped, stepping back. “Can I go now?” 

The older man nodded. “Go put those cigarettes in your jeep and head to the library to meet with Jackson.”  

Stiles sighed as he left the office. 

📚

Jackson looked up from his laptop as a book was dropped on the table in front of him. He grinned. “You’re looking better.” He closed his laptop, staring at Stiles. “How was your first day back?” 

Stiles shrugged as he slipped into a chair. “I’m still a little tired. Harris called me into his office to yell at me and to give me like 5 tests to make up for all the work I missed. I’m sure I passed them all. I also got called into your father’s office, for more yelling.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m tempted to just drop out at this point.” 

Jackson reached over to grip his hand but Stiles pulled his hand away. He just nodded and sighed. “I’m sorry that your day has been so terrible. Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t want you to drop out” 

“It’s fine, Jackson.” Stiles smiled at him. “We have like a month and a half. I can make it, but your dad has given me detention every lunch hour until graduation.” He looked down at the table. “And my dad has grounded me until further notice.” 

Jackson nodded, leaning back in his chair. He could see how upset Stiles was and he hated it. “Let’s get out of here.” He started putting his computer away. “We really can’t get anything done until we get the results of those tests back.” 

Stiles looked up at him. “Are you sure? You did hear that I’m grounded.” 

“You’re 18 now, right?” Jackson smirked. “We’ll hang out in my room, if you’d like.” 

Stiles frowned, playing with the cover of his book. “Do you have those Dr. Peppers?” 

Jackson chuckled and nodded. “Come on, Stiles.” He got up and offered him his hand. “I’ve got a flat screen and we could watch a movie.” 

Stiles smiled, taking his hand. “Do you have Star Wars?” 

Jackson smirked, grabbing his backpack. “You’re a Star Wars fan?” 

Stiles nodded, following him through the halls. “Yeah, I’m a big fan of Han Solo.” He ran his thumb over the back of his hand as they headed toward the dorms. “Look, I’m sorry I disappeared after our date. It had nothing to do with you. I was just dealing with some crap.” 

“It’s fine, Stiles. You don’t have to keep apologizing.” He blushed, trying not to think too much about how it felt to be holding Stiles’s hand. “Please don’t do it again, Stiles. It’s so self destructive and you have so many people who care about you.” 

Stiles nodded. He stopped at the dorm entrance and looked into his eyes. “I’m going to try to be better. It kind of scared me when I realized that I had been out for ten days, babe.” 

Jackson blushed. “I like when you call me babe.” He bit his lip, and reached up to push Stiles’s hair from his eyes. 

Stiles found himself leaning into the touch and sighed. “Maybe I should go. Can we…” 

Jackson shook his head. “No, please don’t go. I keep screwing this up.” 

Stiles chuckled. “It is definitely not you screwing this up. I just - I’m not good at this, Jackson. I’ve been pushing people away for so long, and now everyone is just pushing themselves back into my life.” 

Jackson nodded as he squeezed his hand and began walking toward his room. ��Then let them in, as much as or as little as you need right now.” 

“But now there is you, Jackson. I’ve treated you horribly and you want me to call you babe.” Stiles shook his head. “I’m utter shit, Jackson.” 

Jackson opened his door and pulled Stiles into the room. He sat him on the bed, looking into him. “You’re not shit, Stiles.” He cupped his chin, looking into his eyes. “You’ve made some bad choices, but I’ve seen how people care about you, and I’ve seen how sweet you can be.” He licked his lips and kissed him softly. “Sorry.” 

Stiles chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve known me a total of what? Five days?” He twisted his hands and smirked. “Don’t apologize for kissing me. It’s nice.” He kissed the corner of his mouth. “I want us to know each other better, babe.”  

Jackson blushed, placing his hand on his shoulder, rubbing his neck with his thumb. “That sounds like a great idea. My father won’t exactly be happy, but fuck that.” He chuckled and pulled Stiles into a slow soft kiss. 

Stiles groaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the other boy. He pulled back after only a moment and sighed. “Are you sure that you really want to get involved with me? I’m nothing but trouble.” 

Jackson laughed softly. “No you’re not. You only think that you are. So, where does that leave us,”

Stiles smirked, toying with Jackson’s hair. “Do we really have to put a label on it? We’ll see where this goes.”  

Jackson sighed, thinking for a moment. “Well, we really can’t go on a proper date until you are no longer grounded, but we can study here, and make out if you want. We can watch movies here. My room is a safe space, Stiles. I just don’t want you using drugs or smoking while you are here.” 

Stiles frowned. “Everyone is obsessed with getting me to stop smoking.” 

Jackson shook his head. “I’m not asking you to quit. I just don’t want to smell it in my room.” He scrunched up his nose. “It kind of stinks.” He laughed. 

Stiles laughed, laying on the bed. “Alright, I get it. No, smoking, and no drugs while I’m here. I think I can agree to that.” 

Jackson grinned, patting his knees. “Good. I’m pretty sure I promised you Star Wars.” 

Stiles grinned and sat up. “Yes you did.” He giggled, giving him a quick kiss. “Bring on the rebel alliance.” 

To be continued…

[stacksonweek]

STACKSON WEEK 2024

April 3rd - 9th

Stackson Week is for creating and supporting romantic, sexual, and queerplatonic Stiles/Jackson content.

--

Optional themes for 2024:

DAY 1: In Another Life || Alternate canon or universe

DAY 2: Hate Boner || Enemies-to-Lovers

DAY 3: The Joys of Pain || Hurt/Comfort or kink

DAY 4: Hell is You || Trapped together

DAY 5: Bound || Soulmates, teammates, roommates, etc

DAY 6: Ripe for Mayhem || Chaos in any form

DAY 7: Why Oh Why || Stackson feels of any kind

--

Some Guidelines:

The provided themes are merely suggestions.

There's no sign-up process. Just post on any of the given days.

You do NOT need to create for every day to be able to participate. This is a low key event where you can participate as much or as little as is comfortable for you.

All types of contributions are welcome, whether they be fics, art, gifs, playlists, edits, or whatever else you can come up with. The goal is to celebrate Stiles and Jackson, no matter which form it takes.

HOWEVER, the use of AI is prohibited.

Additionally, the bashing of any other character or ship to uplift Stackson is a Nope here.

Please tag your work with #stacksonweek2024 so is can be reblogged. You can also tag @stacksonweek to increase visibility.

Reblog to spread the word, and feel free to send an Ask if you have any further questions!

[domesticated-feral]

for @stacksonweek

[sapphireginger]

Jackson and Stiles get paired up for a project in their literature class. Jackson wants to study at his house and when it gets late, he has a really hard time when Stiles has to head home. Jackson is not a fan of being alone in an empty house.

@stacksonweek

Day #3: Fake Dating/Project Partners

[otg2012]

These Hearts Were Never Meant to Beat Alone  |  Day 3: Future fic

Stiles and Jackson go on their first date and this is how their dinner ends. 

The previous parts of this flashback are here:

So Damn Blue  |  Your Heart Will Never Be Broken by Me  | 

Sex, Truth and a Minimum of Bullshit   |  Confirmation Denied    

Notes: This is the end of my series "What If It's You?" in which Jackson is a spy and Stiles is a journalist.  

“About this thing that you do that cannot be mentioned… did you always know that you wanted to do it? I’ve always wondered if there’s some kind of call for that,” Stiles admits. “Or you just wake up one day and you say, risking my life for a living sounds good.”

“When you put it like that, what I do doesn't sound too different from a firefighter or a policeman, you know? Maybe you should ask your father, don’t you think?”

“Come on, you know what I mean,” Stiles insists. “And for my dad, of course, I know he couldn’t see himself doing anything else. That’s what he always wanted to do.” Stiles says, waving both arms. “Is that what happened to you?”

Jackson snorts, shaking his head. “No, I have two years of law school under my belt. I thought my future was being a lawyer. Somehow I convinced myself it was a way to make money and help people at the same time… and of course, my parents totally loved the idea. Not to mention that Kane, my best friend at the time, was also at college with me…”

“So what happened?”

Jackson snorts once more. “What happened is that I got terribly bored, I guess. My marks were decent but I wasn’t brilliant… and I was supposed to be brilliant,” Jackson says matter-of-factly. “Hard as I tried, I couldn’t find the motivation to achieve what I was supposed to achieve. So, I lost interest and after my second year, I left and never came back.”

“Wow, that had to be hard,” Stiles offers obviously surprised.

“Yeah, it was,” Jackson nods, absolutely serious.

“And what did you do?” Stiles asks warily, biting his lip.

“Well, I was a mess. My parents didn’t get it, my best friend didn’t get it and even I didn’t totally get it. Because I knew I could actually finish it, and pass the bar and find a job… but also, in the back of my mind, I knew I couldn’t go on if I didn’t have a passion for it, you know… but for a while there I really thought I was stupid for not seeing it sooner… for wasting two fucking years of my life before I saw it. And I thought something was wrong with me… some people would call it a crisis, I suppose…” Jackson shrugs. “In the end, I left… stayed in France for a while… then I was backpacking through Europe… and decided to study economics and most probably start my own business in the future.”

“But that’s not what happened…” Stiles shakes his head.

“No... My boss… he changed all that. Somehow he trusted me, he recruited me and I realized this is what I was supposed to do.”

“You found your destiny,” Stiles declares. “Wow… that’s so cool.”

Jackson smiles. “I guess, it’s cool, yeah.”

“What about you? Is your call being a journalist?”

“I think so, yeah.” Stiles nods. “When I was a teenager, I thought I wanted to be a writer…”

“Really? Jackson raises his eyebrows.

“Yep. I have a lot of imagination in case you haven’t noticed—”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Jackson smirks.

“But writing is not a career… you have to be lucky to actually make money with it.”

“So, you just forgot about it?” Jackson furrows his brow.

“As employment? Yeah, I did… but I still, I write… just a hobby… plus, it’s not like I have a lot of free time… and anyway, I love my job… I don’t write fiction but I write about things that matter—our reality— and that’s important… Hopefully, I make a difference showing what’s going on out there and you know, every day is different and I never get bored. I guess not many people get to say that… although of course, you’re not one of those.”

Jackson gets that and he believes him, but something tells that probably those are all things that help him cope with the fact that he’s not doing what would have been his first choice.

“I mean,” Stiles continues, “unless, you got so used to traveling and kicking strangers who follow you…” Stiles gestures with his hand. “In that case, maybe you should have become a lawyer after all.”

“God, no,” Jackson smiles, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t change what I do for anything. And you know, if I hadn’t kicked you, we wouldn’t be here right now…”

“That’s most probably true,” Stiles smirks.

“It is,” Jackson bites his lip. “And believe me, I’ve told you stuff that…” Jackson snorts, smiling, “few people know about me.”

And that is honesty right there. It’s true he’s not been on a date in a long time but still, now that he thinks about it, he can’t remember a date where he talked as much about himself as he has tonight. Obviously, there’s something about this guy that makes it easy to talk and just be himself in a way that doesn’t really come natural to him. Thank god Lydia won’t find out what they talked about because if she did, she would be teasing him about it endlessly.

“Well, I hope that means that you wanna see me again… even if I’m only really good at English and I’ve asked more questions that you probably wanted in your lifetime.”

Jackson drinks some more wine and licks his lips. “Yeah, but I’ll just text you next time. I hope it’s not too disappointing.”

Stiles smiles. “I admit it. I could get used to your fingers sliding inside my pocket, but I think I can deal with it. And you know, since it’s been established that your so called-plan for Christmas Day absolutely sucks, I think you should come over to my place and have lunch with my father and me. I’ll be cooking, not him, so it’s safe to say that you won’t die of starvation.”

“Wait—Your father and you?” Jackson raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah, he’s coming to visit for a few days. But don’t worry, if it bothers you that he knows that we are… you know…” Stiles waves his arms.

“Dating?” Jackson tries hard not to smirk. Stiles can be really ridiculous.

“Yeah. If that bothers you, you can come as a friend. I’m not trying to con you into anything… it’s just Christmas lunch… between friends. Well, family and friends… two friends.” Stiles closes his eyes for a moment, waving his arms. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t think that me meeting your father is the best idea you’ve ever had… especially after just one date.”

“On the contrary, everybody likes my father. There’s even the risk that you could like him more than me…” Stiles smiles. “And hell, I just don’t want you to be alone. Besides, I’m sure anything is better than whatever you are going to eat at home after working out like a maniac.”

Jackson rolls his eyes dramatically but finally nods. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll go… but don’t do that. Don’t lie to him. As I said before, what’s the point of lying?” It feels stupid to do that. If the father is half as smart as Stiles is, he will see the way his son looks at Jackson and will know the truth anyway.

“Okay. I won’t.” Stiles shakes his head.

“So, are you gonna order any dessert or what? They are pretty good at this place.”

“Are you kidding? I never say no to dessert… especially cake… chocolate cake or apple cake… any cake, really...”

The way Stiles’ face illuminates at the idea of cake is too cute… maybe even beautiful. Jackson can’t help but grin. Somehow Stiles’ eagerness is contagious and he wants some cake too… and the thing is he never has cake. Too many calories.

“Cake, it is,” Jackson says nonchalantly, looking around to find a waiter.

[christinesficrecs]

I was wondering if you knew of any Stackson accounts like yourself? I've been loyal to Sterek for years now and your blog is my favorite but I have been interested in Stackson recently and I was trying to find something like yours. Know any good ones?

Sorry, I do not. 

There is a stacksonweek blog and also fridge co-moderates that blog so maybe they can help you. @fanfictionfridge

teenwerewoofs suggested Inell’s works. The stackson fics are here. 

Just adding the links @fanfictionfridge dropped in the comments. 

Stackson fic recs here. 

When We Were Monsters by whatthefridge | 56.4K | Explicit | ANGST

Jackson’s done being in the spotlight. London chewed him up and spit him out, and all he wants is the life of a regular teen again. But the secrets he carries are heavy, and Stiles refuses to back down until Jackson airs every bit of misery he’s been dealt since the day Derek bit him and psychos got a hold of his head.

No one seems to blame Stiles for the nogitsune, but he can’t help blaming himself for letting it in. He’s having a hard enough time coping when Jackson suddenly returns from London, able to see through Stiles’s facade and tell him what everyone else denies as truth. It’s enough to make Stiles want to pry.

Please share any stackson fic rec blogs you know! 

[tabbytabbytabby]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Jackson Whittemore Additional Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Teasing Summary:

Jackson crosses a line and has to find a way to make it up to Stiles.

For Day 3 of @stacksonweek

[adrianfridge]

@stacksonweek 2020

Day 7: Dealer’s Choice: Dua Lipa Lyrics

[cassandraofold]

I’ll eat you up - Stackson Soulmates AU

So I’ve done a thing for @stacksonweek Day 4 - soulmates.

This has been kicking around in my drafts for two years so here’s chapter 1. It’s a nearly finished, plotted WIP, hoping to update weekly at a minimum - there will be an extra chapter this week though as it’s Stackson week! 🤗 Thank you to @risingarson for the super fast beta!

Read it and leave me comments anyway to guilt me into finishing it 😅.

Also I may have 4 hours of writing mood music for this fic…so here’s a little chapter 1 playlist:

[eddiesdiaz]

body swap au for @stacksonweek day 4: magical mishap (a little bit late as always) // co-written by the beautiful amazing @florenceandthemachine whom i love and adore

“I’m tired, Jackson.”

“Shut up and scrub, Stilinski.”

Stiles might have laughed if he had the energy.

As it was, he did not—he and Jackson were standing waist-deep in a river that cut Beacon Hills Preserve nearly in half, scrubbing blood and rot and…various other things out of their clothes, skin, and (worst of all, in Stiles’ opinion) hair. 

He still wasn’t entirely sure how a golem wound up in Beacon Hills—it was green, and huge, and smelled like a dead thing that had been dragged through a fucking sewer. The green swamp thing (golem, Stiles mentally corrected) wasn’t even their enemy, which made it all the more frustrating—it was targeting a group of witches, a coven that Derek had given permission to travel through Hale territory.

The golem had other ideas, apparently. 

A few dead hikers later and Derek, in his infinite alpha wisdom and self-loathing, had immediately decided that because he let the witches onto Beacon Hills land, they must have been the ones killing people—ignoring everything that Stiles was trying to say, about how the deaths they had come across didn’t make sense, Derek, and there was absolutely zero magical residue at all, Derek, and I swear to god if you slash my tires to keep me from staking out again, Derek...

...And naturally, Derek was wrong, and wasted so much time and energy going after a powerful group of beings that would have been much better served as an ally, not an enemy. So Stiles had worked even harder. He did research, he looked up proof, he found a defense, and after almost three days awake—which, even then, was barely enough time—he had a solution.

A solution that relied a little too heavily on Danny pulling some text messages off of Derek’s phone, sure, but it was a solution nonetheless. He had managed to track down where the pack had split up in their futile (and literal) witch hunt, and with the research he had done, it was easy to know which oath to follow. Stiles only wished that path didn’t wind up with his hand almost elbow deep in the chest of a nasty ass monster made of mud and moss, wrapping his hand around a tiny piece of parchment, and pulling it free with a tug. And then pretending that he wasn’t on the brink of vomiting as the thing blew up, a moment before it was about to crush half of the pack in one of its giant, muddy fists. 

Which led to the here and now, standing in a river, trying not to barf. Great way to spend a Tuesday night. 

“I am tired, Jackson.”

Something in his voice gives Jackson pause, and Stiles can’t even muster up the energy to feel thankful at the lack of snarky report. 

“I haven’t slept in days. Days. Just so I could make sure that I had this information right. I saved several pack members from…injury, at least, if not worse, I fucking stopped Derek from starting something with a coven of witches that he probably wouldn’t have walked way from. I did all of that and I did it alone, and I just...and after that…and then fucking Derek!”

Fucking Derek indeed, because after all that, did Stiles get a thank you? Did he get any appreciation? No. He got Derek yelling in his face about getting in the way, and then a barked order for he and Jackson to scrub up, get home, and stay out of the way. And now they’re standing waist-deep in a river, and Stiles is so furious with the entire situation he doesn’t even think to ogle Jackson like his life depends on it when the former Kanima decides that the best way to wash out his shirt is by stripping it off.

He starts scrubbing at a spot on his shirt with renewed vigor, fuming to himself, only pausing when the splash of Jackson’s steps signal movement behind him.

“Stilinski, I get it, but I think—“

“Ha! You get it? You get nothing, Whittemore.” Stiles snaps, whirling on his heel, almost slipping and falling beneath the water before steadying himself. “You absolutely do not get it. I work so hard to keep everyone safe. I’ve had to do everything, everything on my own, while you… I mean, you wanted the bite, and Derek gave it to you. You wanted Lydia, and you got her. You want a new car, a new lacrosse team, a better wardrobe, you got that too. People just hand these things to you—“ his scrubbing was reaching a furious level now— “and meanwhile, I do everything in my power to keep you and the rest of those fucks safe, and all I get is snapped at, and it’s just—not—fair!”

The fabric beneath his fingers tears suddenly and he just…freezes, staring through the new hole in his shirt with shocked eyes, and blurry vision. Is he crying? Probably, but he’s not sure—it’s a small consolation to know that even if he is, the stench of rot and mud is so thick, Jackson probably can’t smell it on him anyway.

Because more than being tired, Stiles was afraid. Is afraid. Has been and likely always will be afraid. Afraid that no matter what he did, his dad would get hurt, or he would fail, or his friends would still wind up dead—that Jackson would wind up dead, not that he would ever admit to it—and tonight was too close a call. The fight drains out of him as he looks down at his fingers through the hole, shoulders slumping, voice flat as he starts to make his way out of the river. All he wants right now is to go home, hug his dad, and pass out for at least a day.

“I appreciate the empathy or whatever, but you have no idea what it feels like to be in my position, Jackson. Fucking none. So just… take your Porsche back to your mansion, kiss your still living parents, and I’ll see you at school.”

Stiles could almost swear he sees something soft in Jackson’s eyes, something almost resembling sympathy, but he can’t find it in him to investigate further. The exhaustion is pulling at him relentlessly, and for once, he stops fighting it. Pulling into the driveway on full autopilot, he barely manages to throw his wet, smelly clothes off of his body before collapsing into bed, asleep as soon as his head meets the pillow. 

///

As is his usual, he’s slow to rise the next morning, dreading what he’s sure will be a battered and bruised body, but when he grits his teeth and stretches…nothing. There’s no pain, no stiffness, not even a popping joint. His body feels…good. His bed feels good. Has his bed always been so comfortable? He’s reaching for his phone when his arm smacks a wall instead, and that’s the first indication that something is off. 

He’s never been to Jackson’s house, but he knows immediately that’s where he is as soon as he opens his eyes — because no other teenager would have a fucking king size bed with silk sheets, a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, and a walk-in closet the size of Stiles’ entire bedroom. 

His first thought is that he’s remembering last night wrong. That he had actually ended up being too tired to drive, so Jackson brought him here to crash. Which was really cool of him, especially after Stiles unleashed his raging inner monologue on him, and he should definitely apologize for that. 

Once he drags himself out of Jackson’s absurdly comfortable bed, though, and seeks out the nearest mirror to assess whether he looks as bad as he thinks he should feel, he finds Jackson’s face staring back at him. 

It’s probably a testament to their completely fucking ridiculous lives that Stiles doesn’t even flinch. Because after all the shit that’s happened to them, why not this too? In fact, having some sort of Freaky Friday situation with Jackson is pretty damn low on his list of things to be concerned about. Barely even on the radar, really. It’s more of a slight inconvenience than anything. 

Assuming, of course, that they had actually switched places and Stiles’ body wasn’t like…dead in a ditch somewhere. That would be a huge bummer for everyone involved.

To be honest, all Stiles wants to do is lock himself up in this absolute paradise of a bedroom and catch up on his sleep. He feels more well-rested than he has in weeks after a night in Jackson’s bed (or is it because he’s in Jackson’s body, who probably sleeps this well every night [or, because supernatural healing and rejuvenation capabilities]?), but he could still use another solid day of rest and relaxation. 

As it is, though, he checks Jackson’s phone and sees that he’s late for school. Stiles would ditch in a heartbeat if he was himself, but golden boy Jackson Whittemore has had perfect attendance since kindergarten. So he throws on some clothes and hauls ass out the door, all the while wondering why he knows that, and more importantly, why he cares. 

///

Despite his best efforts (speeding like a mad man in the Porsche, for fun just as much as necessity), he’s too late to catch Jackson before class. He spends the entirety of the morning trying to get used to the fact that he can hear everyone’s heartbeats and smell the way they’re feeling. Stiles knows damn near everything there is to know about being a werewolf, but actually being one is different. It’s sensory overload, and it’s overwhelming as hell. 

He holds it together well enough, though, because this isn’t his first rodeo. He’s been through this enough times to know how to control it. So he does, and he makes it to lunch without wolfing out, which he’s pretty proud of. Being a werewolf isn’t something Stiles has ever wanted, but he has to say, he’s kind of crushing it. 

As soon as he sees Jackson (himself?) in the cafeteria, he rushes to Stiles and pulls him into the hallway so they can talk alone. 

“What the fuck, Stilinski?”

Stiles has to laugh. 

“I have no idea, dude,” he answers with a shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“You look like shit,” Jackson observes, smirking in a way that usually makes Stiles want to punch him when he’s not looking at himself. “That’s not easy to do with my face.”

Stiles, for his part, just rolls his eyes. “Shut up. Have you told anyone what happened yet?” 

“Yeah, I told McCall, and he told Derek. We’re all meeting at the loft after school to figure out what’s going on.”

“Great,” Stiles deadpans, barely holding back a dramatic sigh. Just thinking about dealing with the pack right now is exhausting, but as much as he would have loved to entertain the idea of fooling all of their friends, it was probably for the best to keep them in the loop. 

Jackson laughs and makes a noise of agreement. “Hey, you’re good, right? You have the wolf under control?” 

Stiles nods. “I think so, yeah. So far, so good.”

“Yeah, I figured you would, but I had to check.”

Jackson says it as easy as anything, like it’s no big deal, but Stiles is taken aback by it. Because while he has to fight everyone else tooth and nail just to prove his worth, here Jackson is trusting Stiles to handle himself, simple as that. Stiles is grateful that, for once, Jackson can’t hear his heart stutter in his chest.

“So I’ll see you after school?” Jackson asks, snapping Stiles out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah, see you then,” he agrees. 

///

The pack meeting turns out to be an hour-long session of bashing Stiles, treating him like a child and insisting they all take turns “looking after him” in case he fucks something up and they have to step in and fix it. 

None of that surprises Stiles, if he’s being honest. What does surprise him, however, is the way Jackson stands up for him. 

“For God’s sake, he doesn’t need a fucking babysitter,” he scoffs, looking pointedly at Derek. “He single-handedly raised Scott’s wolf when his alpha was nowhere to be found, and he helped every single one of us with our control when you couldn’t be bothered. If you think he can’t handle this on his own, you’re full of shit.”

That earns a stunned silence from everyone in the room, and Stiles chooses to ignore the flush high on his cheeks. Jackson typically wasn’t big on talking during these meetings—in fact, it was pretty likely that was the most he had ever said in a pack meeting, and all those words were just to defend Stiles? 

That’s weirder than the body swap.

“Hey, uh, thanks for that,” Stiles tells him once the meeting is adjourned and they’re headed back out to their cars. 

“It was true,” Jackson says with a shrug. “So are you gonna tell your dad about all of this?”

Stiles shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t wanna worry him for nothing. Just don’t let him eat garbage and be sarcastic, but not mean, and he’ll believe you’re me.”

“Got it.”

“What about me? You have any tips for your parents?” Stiles prompts. 

Jackson laughs at that, though Stiles isn’t really sure why. “Trust me, you don’t need any tips,” he says. 

Stiles can’t help but be a little annoyed at the cryptic advice, because what the hell is that supposed to mean?

He’s chewing the thought over as he pushes the button on the visor of Jackson’s Porsche (which he has named Persephone), and his brow furrows when he looks into an empty garage. He thought that maybe Jackson’s parents had been up and out before his school day started, but they weren’t home now, either? 

A business trip, maybe? Jackson hadn’t seemed worried about it, so he probably didn’t have a reason to be either…but he had to admit, he isn’t sure how to feel about being alone from the moment he unlocked the front door to the moment he woke up—to a very amusing set of text messages, he might add.

11:37 PM: dude how do you get your human brain to shut off

11:44 PM: seriously what the fuck i am tired why cant i go to sleep?

12:17 AM: fuck it im going to count your moles to bore myself into a coma

12:43 AM: didnt work. you have fourteen beauty marks on your left ass cheek. just fyi

Stiles did not want to know that; in fact, any schadenfreude he may have been feeling at apparently ditching his overworked human brain was immediately muted by the thought that Jackson had technically (apparently) looked at his naked ass.

...Which leads to Stiles realizing as he shampoos his hair that technically, he’s seen all of Jackson naked too. Technically, hell, he’s currently feeling Jackson up as he scrubs. It’s a lot of technicalities that Stiles absolutely does not want to face. 

He rinses quicker than he washed and almost jumps into some clothes, weirdly nervous about the potential to see something that he feels he really shouldn’t spend too much time getting up close and personal with—even if Jackson was apparently using a hand mirror to count beauty marks on his temporary ass cheek.

///

He opens the garage door and starts Persephone up, but before he can fully back out of the driveway, a sleek sports car is pulling in the drive beside him, and sure enough, Derek in all his brooding glory is soon rapping on the passenger side window. 

“Open up. I’m going to make sure you get to school.”

Stiles sighs to himself before unlocking the door. He should have figured that Derek would take part in his “keep stupid Stiles from causing trouble” campaign, but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy having Derek anywhere near him—or the feelings that came with it.

Because the truth is, feeling Derek this close to him makes him fucking uncomfortable. He isn’t sure if it’s a wolf thing, or a Derek thing, but every breath he takes while they’re in the enclosed vehicle makes him more and more nervous. If he were in his own body, he’d be fidgeting like crazy—but now, he can just feel his brain going into overdrive, trying to access that little part of Jackson’s hindbrain that feels his instincts going crazy.

Everything gets catalogued as he drives—while he had always thought Derek would give off commanding, calming vibes, it’s more of the opposite. He can actually smell Derek’s annoyance (which is not surprising) but there’s something else there, something that’s bitter, acidic, deep rooted and laced in everything Derek does or says. 

He’s halfway out of the car, engine off, keys in hand, when it clicks in his head. Derek is talking to him, low and monotone, and if you weren’t listening with supersonic hearing, you might have assumed he was bored. He’s in the middle of explaining something that sounds suspiciously like a curfew (just because Stiles can hear does not mean he was listening) when Stiles interrupts. 

“Jesus, Derek. I hope you hid your emotions better around Jackson before we went all Freaky Friday. I can’t tell which you hate more right now, this body in general or the fact that I’m in it.”

Admittedly, Stiles isn’t sure what he’s hoping for after he speaks—an argument, maybe, or a denial, but when Derek just stares at him, eyes wide in surprise even as his brow furrows, it tells him all that he needs to know, and he can feel his heart sink. Being annoyed with the situation is one thing, and it would have been stupid to assume Derek was thrilled about the situation when he and Jackson were still sorting it out, but damn. It was a punch in the gut to know that Derek really did hate him.

Or maybe he hates Jackson—which, when that thought crosses his mind, makes Stiles heart fucking break. Because sure, Stiles was annoying on the best of days, but Jackson? He was a genuinely good person. A genuine asshole, sure, but a good person underneath it all. And with all the research he had done on pack bonds and family units, he couldn’t imagine how it would feel for Jackson, Derek’s first beta, to feel that loathing all the time.

Derek still wasn’t denying anything, and Stiles feels a burn at the back of his tongue, building up just to tear into Derek at a moment’s notice.

He’s about to open his mouth again when a familiar roar catches his ears—and in the three seconds it took for him to turn and identify where Jackson was piloting his much-missed blue behemoth of a car into the lot, Derek was gone. 

Good, Stiles thought. Hateful fucker.

Stiles and Jackson may have still been shaky on the “friends” area, but a furious Stiles isn’t the most rational Stiles, and suddenly he’s overwhelmed with an inexplicable urge to protect Jackson. To shield him from everyone and everything trying to hurt him, because apparently that list includes his own alpha. 

It’s illogical. The rational part of his brain realizes this, and yet the feeling is so primal and all-encompassing that he can’t resist it. He can feel himself popping fangs (which is a weird fucking sensation that he will have to address later) as Jackson walks up to him and Stiles immediately wraps him up in a hug. He holds him tight, buries his face in the crook of Jackson’s neck and just breathes. 

Jackson seems surprised, but he doesn’t say anything. He hugs Stiles back with no complaints or snarky comments, apparently content to stand there with Stiles for as long as he needs. If Stiles had to guess, he’d say Jackson’s probably familiar with the feeling of needing to be close, which breaks his heart a little bit, considering he can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Jackson seek out comfort from any of the pack. 

Well, fuck that. That ends now, as far as he’s concerned.

“You good?” Jackson asks when Stiles finally lets go of him, an embarrassing amount of time later. 

“Yeah,” he says, and it’s actually not a lie. He feels much more grounded and at ease, though Jackson is giving him a strange look. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, your eyes are just...they’re not blue.”

It takes Stiles a minute to figure out what Jackson’s talking about. Once he does, though, he recognizes the bitterness of guilt and sadness that’s seeped into Jackson’s scent. That breaks his heart even more. 

Stiles takes a deep breath and blinks a few times, willing his eyes to go back to normal. He has no idea what to say to that, if he’s being honest. 

“Come on, walk me to class,” he decides on, because anything else would be way too heavy for the school parking lot at 8:00 AM.

“So I’m gonna do some research tonight, since the rest of the pack isn’t doing shit to help us,” he continues. He lets his shoulder brush against Jackson’s as they walk. “Don’t worry, I got ahead on your homework last night. I’m keeping your perfect GPA intact.”

“Thanks,” Jackson says, chuckling. “I can help, if you want. Or keep you company, at least, since I know you’re a control freak and you like to do everything yourself.”

“Takes one to know one,” Stiles retorts, biting back a smile. “Yeah. Uh, I’ll call you?”

“Cool,” Jackson agrees, and that’s that. 

///

He spends almost three hours on the phone with Jackson that night. True to his word, he lets Stiles do his thing, but he talks to him, and he listens while Stiles reads from the pages he finds online. It’s not that different from his usual research routine, but it’s a hell of a lot less lonely to have someone by his side, supporting him. 

As far as Stiles can figure, what happened to them was brought on by a witch’s spell, which he can’t say is surprising, considering how royally Derek had pissed them off. The only way to undo it is to let it play out, until they reach whatever outcome the spell intended in order to switch them back. It’s not the best news, considering neither he nor Jackson have any idea what that outcome is. 

He still hasn’t seen even a glimpse of Jackson’s parents, after almost three days of being here. He’d briefly considered texting, but when he opened Jackson’s message threads with them, he saw that he hadn’t texted either one of them in over six months. Stiles wants to ask Jackson about it, but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to know the answer. 

“This is so weird,” he says instead, because they really haven’t given the appropriate amount of acknowledgement to that fact. 

“What is? Being rich and popular and perfect?” 

Stiles rolls his eyes so hard he’s sure Jackson can feel it through the phone. “Among other things. Namely the fact that you’re technically the first person I’ve ever seen naked.”

It comes out of his mouth before he realizes what he’s saying, and he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him right about now. Jackson doesn’t seem bothered by it at all, though. 

“Have you jerked off yet?” he asks, sounding more curious than anything. At Stiles’ spluttering silence, he adds, “What? I have.”

Stiles lets out a scandalized gasp and then proceeds to choke on air, much to Jackson’s amusement. He’s definitely laughing at Stiles, the bastard. 

“I mean, I didn’t really have much of a choice,” Jackson continues easily. “You were wound up so tight I thought you were going to explode. I had to take the edge off.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles mutters, flushing bright red. He doesn’t know how Jackson’s being so nonchalant about this, but his virgin ass is mortified. 

“I’m just saying, it might make you feel better.”

“I’m not...I...don’t you think it’s, like, beyond weird?” Stiles manages to ask, though it takes a lot of effort to string together a full sentence. 

“Kind of, but when have our lives ever not been weird?” Jackson asks, and Stiles has to admit, he has a point. “I’m hot, you’re hot, so what’s the difference, really?”

Jackson keeps talking, Stiles is pretty sure, but he doesn’t hear anything after you’re hot. His brain short-circuits. 

“I’m hanging up now,” Stiles chokes out, because he can’t handle this conversation anymore. 

“If it helps, I give you my blessing to feel me up to your heart’s content,” Jackson offers. 

“Goodnight, Jackson.”

Jackson laughs, sounding almost fond. “Night, Stilinski.”

Stiles tosses the phone at the table, ignoring how his face was bright red, and his eyes were probably bright again, and his fangs weren’t the only thing that had… popped in that last ten minutes. 

More than anything, though, he was acutely aware of the warmth in his chest. 

Jackson thinks he’s hot.

10:51 PM: found another one. fifteen beauty marks.

10:52 PM: JACKSON I SWEAR TO GOD

He is so, so fucked.

///

11:29 AM: i want some shrimp scampi tonight.

11:31 AM: ehh, it’s healthy enough i guess, dad will like it. everything you need should be in the pantry.

11:32 AM: … stilinski are you fucking serious right now? i didn’t say your dad wanted shrimp scampi, i said i wanted shrimp scampi

Stiles almost snorts in the middle of his History class—which was better than falling asleep, but only barely—and can’t help but feel the smug sense of pride that bloomed in his chest.

11:35 AM: why jackson, are you asking me to dinner?

11:40 AM: no, dumbass, i’m telling you that i’m coming over to my own house and you’re making me shrimp scampi.

Stiles rolls his eyes and sends an affirmative-looking emoji, a smile on his face as the bell rings and he shoves everything into his bag. He taps at his phone as it buzzes again in his hand.

11:45 AM: trust me, when i ask you to dinner you’ll realize it.

Stiles hates his life a little bit. 

But only a little bit.

///

“Come on, Jackson. I didn’t even make the pasta myself, it is not that hard to boil some water.”

“The fuck do you mean, you didn’t make the pasta this time? How the fuck do you know how to make pasta?!”

Stiles laughs as he pushes some shrimp around in a pan, watching as Jackson goes to sit on the counter. The kitchen is huge — probably bigger than Stiles’ own house — but he definitely isn’t going to complain about Jackson’s general proximity. “What did you tell my dad, anyway? I can’t imagine he was so keen to have you spend some time over here after you tried to sue us,” he says, draining the pasta, looking up after Jackson’s silence carries on a little too long.

Jackson is personifying the deer in the headlights look, a piece of dried pasta broken off in his mouth. 

“Is…is he going to care if I’m not home?” Jackson asks, his voice shockingly small, and Stiles can literally smell the panic rising in Jackson’s voice, which he only needs one whiff of to determine he never wants to smell it on Jackson again. 

Stiles can hear Jackson’s heart start to race, and he doesn’t even think before he goes into full damage control mode. He immediately starts talking (a distraction) and grabs his own cell phone from the table (taking the attention off of Jackson), narrating what he was texting to his dad (letting Jackson know what the right thing to do was, without bringing up what he had done wrong). 

He leans up against the counter as he speaks, his shoulder pressed firmly along Jackson’s, giving him a point of contact to focus on. It was almost “panic attack 101” at this point — Scott had done the same thing to give him some time to calm down when he had an attack in public, back when Scott wasn’t a fuckhead, and even though they were alone in Jackson’s giant-ass house, he figures it would be a better way to help Jackson down than confronting him head on. 

Do werewolves get panic attacks? Stiles really doesn’t want the answer to that question. 

A small scoff from Jackson is the only cue Stiles needs to stop his regular rambling, and he’s momentarily thankful for the grumpy look on Jackson’s face as he chews his dry pasta. It’s the same look that he got whenever Scott suggested a better lacrosse play—the “okay you’re right, shut up about it”, but Stiles takes it as the signal that it is, that Jackson’s okay.

Which is great, because no sooner than that crisis is averted does the next one come up. What started with the slam of a car door outside (down the street or down the block, Stiles still wasn’t sure how to gauge distance by sound yet) turns into muffled voices, talks of luggage and “the car blocking the drive.”

He has no doubt that his expression is probably hilarious when he turns to Jackson, but he’s on the brink of panic himself as a key turns in the lock — because dealing with the pack was one thing, but lying to “his parents” in an attempt to pass off as “their child”? 

Jackson had a near panic attack just thinking about Stiles’ dad, and now here he was about to come face(s) to face(s) with his own parents, and Stiles… is officially out of ideas. Or creative lies. Both wells have about run dry.

Stiles freezes on sight when Jackson’s parents walk into the kitchen. He can’t help it — they’re intimidating as shit, okay? For one horrible, painfully awkward moment, they all just stare at each other in silence. 

“Uh—”

“Jackson,” his mom finally greets him, and although she’s smiling, her tone sounds like she’s addressing a business partner instead of her son. “You’re here. With company. Making a mess of the kitchen.”

She says it with an astonishing amount of contempt, acting way more appalled than the situation calls for — like they’re doing lines of coke off her kitchen counter, not just making dinner — and Stiles is fucking thrown. 

“Yeah, uh, sorry, I—” he tries, but it dies in his throat. He couldn’t finish the sentence if his life depended on it. 

“I didn’t think you knew how to work the stove,” his dad chimes in, with that same “there is company here” type of smile on his face, so fucking condescending it makes Stiles’ skin crawl. 

He can smell their disdain, can feel the irritation radiating off of them in waves — like this entire conversation is nothing but an inconvenience. It’s the first time they’ve seen Jackson in three days (that Stiles is aware of, but he’d guess it’s probably been longer) and yet it’s blatantly apparent they’d rather be anywhere else. 

Stiles is nauseous. He has that feeling again, the same fierce protectiveness of Jackson he’d been hit with after he talked to Derek. He wants to yell, to unleash absolute hell on them for being such unbelievable fuckwads to their only goddamn son, but he doesn’t know enough about this fucked up relationship dynamic to feel comfortable doing it. The last thing he wants is to make things harder for Jackson, and he’s pretty sure telling them off would definitely push things into the territory of worse. 

The problem is, though, Stiles is having trouble mustering up any other, less dangerous reaction. Because as far as he’s concerned, the only appropriate response here is pure, unbridled rage. He takes a deep breath, then another, trying to buy some time, and then Jackson comes in with the save. 

“Actually, I just came to pick Jackson up. We have a project we’re working on for school, so he’s gonna stay at my house for the night.”

His parents just shrug like they literally couldn’t care less and walk away without another word. 

Jackson’s silent as they wash the dishes, and for the entire car ride. Stiles can feel his eyes glowing gold again, but thankfully that’s the only external sign of his anger, so he doesn’t bring it up — he doesn’t know how to. In fact, neither of them speak again until they’re laying side by side in Stiles’ bed, staring up at the ceiling in unison. 

“Jackson,” Stiles breathes, afraid he’ll scare him off if he speaks too loud or makes any sudden movements. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry,” Jackson answers, sounding resigned. “I should have warned you. I just...I’ve never told anyone.”

“Explain it to me,” Stiles says softly. 

He feels Jackson shrug next to him. “We’re more like roommates than anything. I stay out of their way, and they stay out of mine. They drag me to work events sometimes to make themselves look good, but other than that, they’re happiest when I’m not around.” 

Suddenly, so many things he knows about Jackson make more sense. His compulsive need to be the best at everything, his arrogance and his superiority complex — he doesn’t believe any of it. He’s just trying to protect himself. 

“It’s more than that, though. Roommates are nice enough. They were cruel, Jackson. And with your senses…” Stiles trails off, because he can’t bear to say it out loud. No kid should have to literally physically feel their parents’ resentment. 

“I don’t know,” Jackson says, sighing. His heartbeat stays steady, so it’s not a lie; he genuinely doesn’t understand why. “They don’t hit me or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. They just...don’t like me.”

Stiles is relieved at that, but only marginally. 

“You know that doesn’t mean they’re not abusive, right?” he asks, because he needs Jackson to know that. “They don’t get a pass just because they don’t put their hands on you. The way they treat you is bullshit, Jacks.”

He glances over at Jackson out of the corner of his eye, and he has his eyes squeezed shut, like he’s trying not to cry. He smells relieved, though, at the validation. Stiles reaches for his hand and firmly laces their fingers together. 

“Why haven’t you come to the pack with this?” Stiles asks, stroking Jackson’s fingers gently with his thumb. 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but our pack kind of sucks.”

Stiles can’t help but snort at that. “Yeah, I can’t argue with that. There’s always me, though.”

Jackson lets out a short bark of a laugh, his face tight with some unreadable emotion as he finally looks over at Stiles. “Don’t say things like that, Stilinski. We can’t afford to make any promises right now. What if we never switch back? What if we can’t? What if that witch had decided to blast one of us into another dimension, instead of just this?”

“Jackson—”

“We could all wind up dead tomorrow with some new terrible monster because that’s apparently our lives now, so you can’t just…say things like that so fucking easily.”

His voice is getting more and more heated, but their hands are still linked together, and that’s all the confirmation Stiles needs. He pulls with a tug and ignores the gasp of surprise as he wraps his arms around Jackson like a squid, his voice heavy and slightly lisped through fangs when he speaks again.

“Jackson, I will always have your back. No questions. No negotiations. Fucking always. Understand?”

Jackson doesn’t respond beyond a small nod of his head. Stiles doesn’t push the issue, no matter how badly he wants to, so he lets it go for the time being.

He half expects Jackson to pull away. He doesn’t. 

///

Stiles wakes up as the sun rises, feeling Jackson’s nose against his neck. He’s splayed out over Stiles in a way that makes him fucking preen, even as his heart races a mile a minute, but not before pulling Jackson a little closer, going back to sleep.

///

“You know, as much as it pains you all to admit it, I know that you know I’m right.”

“Stiles, enough.”

Stiles had tossed himself onto a couch once he and Jackson had made their way to Derek’s loft, only lifting his feet for a half second so Jackson could sit, firmly planting them in Jackson’s lap a moment after. The only person who even spared them a glance was Lydia, and even then, it was just the quirk of a perfect brow and what might have been the ghost of a smile if you squinted.

“Derek, we should just ask the witches. Apologize for mistaking them for the bad guys, ask if there was any latent magic hanging around, yadda yadda. They’re still on Pack land, right?”

“Stiles, I said enough.”

Stiles is not above using cliches when they’re warranted, which is good, because up until that moment he had literally been having the perfect day. He woke up with Jackson in his arms, he got to see his dad for breakfast (who, thankfully, didn’t comment on their likely sleeping arrangements). His dad went to work, they watched movies, they ate shitty food, they played video games, and Stiles only broke one controller in a fit of Halo induced rage.

“They’re still on Pack land, right? Who knows for how long. If we have a window of opportunity, it is closing fast.”

“I fucking swear, one more word—“ 

As much as he hates to admit it, it was like his best bud time with Scott, but on a whole new level — because while Scott was ditching him for whatever the cute girl of the day was (which, actually, was Isaac, he was pretty sure), Jackson was attentive, and funny, and laughed at Stiles’ dark jokes...and they hadn’t gone more than ten minutes without some form of physical contact.

But now here they are in Derek’s shitty, depressing loft, and...well, all good things have to come to an end. 

“I’m just saying—”

“Stilinski. If you don’t shut up about all this, I’m going to rip your throat out with my teeth. The only reason you’re involved in all of this is because of the body you’re in right now, but just because you’re a wolf does not mean you understand what it is to be pack.”

The last few words are low, almost growled out, laced with that familiar Alpha tone that Derek loves to use to get the little underlings to train harder, or move faster, or whatever he thought the benefit of the moment was. His eyes are burning red where they stare into Stiles’, and when Stiles turns his head, he can see Erica and Boyd shrinking in on themselves, heads down and eyes lowered. Even Scott has his mouth clamped shut. 

Which…huh. The display was interesting and all, but was that really all it took? A growled order to shut the fuck up?

“No.”

His mind is running a mile a minute, thinking ahead of himself, even as Derek’s expression crosses into a downright murderous category. 

“What?!”

“No, I mean—well, I mean no. Because you’re right, I’m not part of the pack. You’ve made that very fucking clear that no matter how much I try to do, I’m not part of it. But if I’m not part of the pack, that means that you are not my fucking Alpha. Which means… I am so fucking out of here.”

He stands, slowly, as though wanting to be sure he can prove it to himself that Derek’s influence means nothing to him. He can practically feel the wolf radiating with excitement as he does, which is all the confirmation he needs. 

Huh. Instincts. Weird. 

He has to put a damper on his excitement when he turns away from Derek (who is beginning to switch from rage to hurt and confusion and honestly Stiles does not have the time right now) and faces Jackson instead. While he’s finally — finally — to blow this joint, he knows it’s probably going to be a little more difficult for Jackson to just up and leave a group that he had been craving approval from for so long. And if Jackson wants to stay, Stiles will too, in a heartbeat — but he owes it to himself to at least try. 

“Jackson, I’m tired of bullshitting around. I’m going to go get some answers.”

He puts out his hand, a smile on his face, even as he feels confusion bounce around the room, like they had only just noticed that Jackson and Stiles were basically sharing a love seat before Derek tried to bite his head off. 

Poor Scott even smells a little hurt. Stiles will try to make it up to him and explain, maybe, possibly, but it will be much later. Right now, he has one priority and one priority only, and it’s staring at him, wearing a shocked expression he’s seen in the mirror all too often.

“Come with me?”

He’s expecting Jackson to hesitate for at least a moment or two, but as soon as the words leave Stiles’ mouth, he’s taking his hand and following him out of the loft. He only pauses to flip Derek off with his free hand, leaning into Stiles’ side as they laugh together. 

///

“You’re kind of a badass, you know that?”

They’re back at Stiles’ house (Jackson had asked him, open and vulnerable, to “please, just stay here with me, Stilinski, my parents won’t give a shit,” and Stiles was powerless to deny him) after agreeing to go find the witches first thing in the morning, since it was a little too late to go bothering them tonight. They’re on the couch, sitting so close together Jackson’s practically in his lap, as they watch reruns of Brooklyn 99. 

In response to Jackson’s question, Stiles scoffs. “Me? How?”

“I’ve been wanting to say shit like that to Derek for months,” Jackson admits, nudging Stiles with his elbow. “You’ve been in my body for less than a week and you’re already more ballsy than I’ve ever been.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t just talking out of my ass. He’s not my alpha. He literally has no sway over me.” Stiles wants to ask him about this thing between him and Derek, exactly how long yet another of Jackson’s parental figures has been treating him like shit, but things are good right now. They’re bonding, and for once, Jackson’s scent is emanating nothing but complete contentment, so Stiles keeps his mouth shut and rolls his eyes instead. 

“I’m serious,” Jackson continues easily. “Is it weird that I’m super attracted to you right now?” 

Stiles’ entire line of thought comes crashing to a halt and his mouth goes dry. 

“Probably,” he answers weakly, trying to will his heart to stop hammering in his chest. “But you’re also super full of yourself, so I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Jackson chuckles at that, eyes bright. “Come on, you’ve never thought about what it’d be like to kiss yourself?” 

Stiles is suddenly hyper aware of everywhere they’re touching, his skin warming under Jackson’s touch. 

“I can honestly say that I haven’t, no. But then again, you wouldn’t either if you looked like I did all the time,” he answers. He pauses for a beat, then adds, “I have thought about what it’d be like to kiss you, though.”

He’s impressed with himself for having the guts to say it so easily. Don’t get him wrong — Stiles is fucking terrified — but he’s also comfortable here with Jackson. He feels safer than he has...probably since the whole werewolf hellscape started. So he figures he owes it to both of them to be genuine. 

Jackson’s answering grin is blinding, even if he cuffs Stiles in the side of the head first. “First of all, shut the fuck up. I’ve been in your body for a week and trust me, I am now intimately familiar with how hot it is. Second of all…you’ve thought about kissing me, huh? Since when?” he asks. 

Stiles knows what kind of answer Jackson’s expecting. Stories about how hot he is, about the dirty fantasies he’s had about him. And Stiles has plenty of those, but the thing is...he’s been hit on by a lot of strangers in the past few days, and honestly? It’s not at all as amazing as Stiles always imagined it would be. 

It turns out, a lot of aspects of Jackson’s life that Stiles always thought would be amazing are actually anything but.

It’s more annoying than anything, people acting like they have the right to objectify and touch Jackson just because he’s pretty — and he’s had to sprint away from more than one hushed conversation about what someone would do to him, or even worse, what someone already thought he did (for a grade, for a spot on a team, for whatever). It’s gross in ways that Stiles doesn’t even want to identify. And Stiles needs Jackson to know that this isn’t that. 

So instead, he does the complete opposite. 

“Last year, when Isaac was afraid to go to therapy after his dad died, so you went with him and refused to leave his side,” Stiles says, his voice slow and easy as he feels Jackson’s heart skip around in his chest, the confusion playing on his face.

“A few months ago, when you rented out an entire restaurant for a night so Allison and Lydia could have the perfect anniversary dinner.” Jackson is bright red now, ducking his head away — Stiles isn’t having any of that, though, and he gently redirects Jackson’s gaze to him, hand slipping from chin to cheek far too easily.

“Earlier this week, when I realized that you believe in me, even when the rest of the pack doesn’t. Last night, when you were honest with me even though I know you didn’t want to be. And every single time you smile at me, for real, not that annoying fucking smirk you love to throw around.”

Jackson isn’t even smiling any more. His face is just raw, open, eyes wide and so, so on the brink of disaster, like Stiles is the only thing holding him together, and Stiles feels a thrill at the power — real power — more than any wolf trick he’d experienced so far. “You are so good, Jackson.”

He tilts Jackson’s chin up and tilts his own head, making his intent obvious, but he stops before moving any closer, making it very clear that Jackson has the power here, in whatever they do or don’t do. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Jackson can’t speak, he can only nod his head, but it’s enough for Stiles to close the distance between them.

Their first kiss is…a kiss. It’s not a clash of teeth and tongue, it’s slower, softer, it’s sipping champagne instead of tossing back a shot. There’s no fireworks in the background — at least, not in Stiles’ head — but instead a cool, low thrum that lights up every nerve from his scalp to his toes. It would be too easy, he thinks, to slip into something filthy — but that isn’t what Jackson needs right now, isn’t what he needs right now either, so he allows himself exactly three seconds to drag his tongue along Jackson’s lip (and god, it was really, really weird to think that he was technically tasting himself), before pulling back from the kiss.

Jackson’s pupils are blown wide, and Stiles knows his are glowing bright gold. He lets a low noise pull through his throat (the kind of cross between a growl and a purr that he would absolutely make fun of Jackson for making if the tables were turned) as he pulls Jackson closer, nose buried in the crook of his neck. 

Jackson finally finds his voice around the same time he buries his fingers in Stiles’ hair, kissing his temple as Stiles takes in deep breaths of his scent. “Let’s go to bed, okay? Just to bed,” he clarifies, when Stiles stiffens in shock, another growl leaving his lips when Jackson starts to laugh at him. “Just to bed, you moron. We have a long day ahead of us, but I’m definitely ready to get my own body back so I can kiss you properly.”

Desperate to save face (even as his own face heated up), Stiles immediately stands up, hooking his hands under Jackson’s knees and effortlessly carrying him up the stairs as Jackson clings to his neck. He’s laughing, though — they both are — and by the time they make it upstairs, they’re both out of breath, looking pleased as punch, even as Stiles playfully chucks the shirt he was wearing at Jackson’s head.

Any awkwardness they may have felt had disappeared, and it’s amazing what one kiss can do, even as they both strip down to their boxers (“I will say, I am going to miss your fancy, rich boy, silk briefs.” “Stilinski, if you don’t shut up and cuddle me right the fuck now—”). They slot together easily, comfortably, and it’s almost impossible for Stiles to even think about a time when they weren’t like this with one another. 

The emotional toll of the day is catching up with Stiles quickly, but he’s more than content to nuzzle into Jackson’s hair, taking in deep breaths of his scent as things start to settle between them.

He still can’t believe he gets to see Jackson like this. Jackson, who always has his walls up, who hides behind a carefully crafted “cool and confident” version of himself. He’s been mistreated for way too long, by way too many people who are supposed to love and support him, and he still came out of it sweet and caring and considerate despite having no good example set for him. He’s been surrounded by people and still felt lonely, because the attention he gets is hollow and meaningless and none of them actually care. 

And he’s done all of this while everyone around him makes idiotic assumptions that his life is perfect and he couldn’t possibly have any real problems. Including Stiles. 

Fuck, he really needs to apologize for that. 

“I can feel you thinking too hard,” Jackson mumbles, pulling himself out of a half sleep. He turns his head just enough to press a kiss to the base of Stiles’ neck, and Stiles melts at how unbelievably soft it all is. 

“I’m sorry for what I said that night at the river,” Stiles blurts, because he can’t go another second without saying it. 

Jackson blinks a few times and then pulls back enough so he can look Stiles in the eye. He keeps his arm firmly wrapped around Stiles’ waist, though.  

“You don’t have to apologize, Stilinski. We’ve both said a lot worse to each other.”

“I know, but just...shut up and let me say this, okay?” he asks, waiting for Jackson’s nod before he continues. “I acted like a dick because I assumed you couldn’t understand what I was going through, and that wasn’t fair. You probably understand better than anyone, and I’m sorry I didn’t see that.”

Jackson’s quiet for a moment, but then he smiles and leans in to give Stiles a gentle peck on the lips. 

“You didn’t see it because I didn’t want you to see it. I didn’t want anyone to see it,” Jackson says, reaching up to run his fingers through Stiles’ hair. “And I was okay with nobody seeing it, because you’re right. Poor little rich boy, you know? No one got it, so it was easier to pretend, but…I don’t want to pretend anymore. Not with you.”

Stiles grins so hard it hurts and bumps their noses together, smile growing impossibly wider when he hears Jackson’s heart skip a beat. “Good,” he says. 

Jackson resumes his semi-sentient-ragdoll pose on top of Stiles and lets out what can only be called an “affectionate grumble,” doing whatever it is he has to do to make Stiles a more comfortable living pillow. Not that Stiles is going to complain or suggest otherwise. He just waits it out, kissing the top of Jackson’s head when the other male is finally resettled. 

“Night, Stiles.”

“Night, Jacks.” “I still hate that nickname.” “No you don’t. Not when it comes from me.”

“...fuck.”

///

Stiles blinks awake entirely too early in the morning, when the sun has barely started to rise, and reaches blindly to pull the blinds over his window, groaning in disappointment when he fails to do so. He hasn’t felt this groggy in ages, but for the moment, he’s content to blame any sleepy haze on the warmth spread around him; not even a full night's sleep could make him forget — even for a moment — where he is and who’s here with him. 

He sighs and lets his head flop down against Jackson’s chest as his eyes start to blearily open, his hand resting in front of his face, thumb rubbing a smooth circle across Jackson’s chest. He gets a low hum in return — of course Jackson’s already waking up, the idiot is infuriatingly perfect in every way and apparently his internal clock is no exception, even on the weekend.

He takes the opportunity to smile and look up, sleepily taking in Jackson’s form — his strong jaw and smooth skin, and he takes a moment to raise his hand from Jackson’s chest to cup his face. Jackson, eyes still closed, preens at the attention, and turns to kiss Stiles’ wrist. It’s a mental picture he wants to save forever — Jackson’s breath steady against his pulse point, his tanned lips pressed against Stiles’ pale skin —

His skin is pale. 

His skin is pale again. 

Stiles bolts upright, his legs straddling Jackson (who makes his feelings about the sudden movement known with a very loud groan). He has both hands cupping Jackson’s face as Jackson opens his eyes, looking cross in a way that used to convey anger and even fear — now it just looks like a child pouting. It’s adorable.

“Jackson, wake the fuck up.”

To his credit, Jackson is much quicker on the uptake than Stiles was. 

“Oh, thank god,” Jackson says, reaching to stroke Stiles’ cheek fondly. “I was really starting to miss this pretty face.”

Stiles blushes from his cheeks all the way down his chest, and it only intensifies when he realizes Jackson’s staring at his flushed skin intently. “Shut the fuck up,” he answers, with absolutely no heat behind it.

“You gonna make me?”

“Maybe,” Stiles says with a shrug, sliding down until he’s fully straddling Jackson’s still lying body to capture his lips in a kiss. 

It takes less than three minutes for Stiles to forget his own name. He gives impatient little whines, but Jackson pulls away each time they risk going into warmer territory. He would protest more, really, but when Jackson pulls away with a dopey grin on his face and tells Stiles how excited he is to finally do a relationship right, with someone he cares about, dating and wooing, Stiles actually melts. He melts into a puddle because Jackson is a secret sap, even if Jackson is less than amused when Stiles verbalizes his feelings. 

“Whatever, Stilinski. I’ve been in your body for a week. We both know about the stash of romance novels you keep hidden behind your comics.”

Stiles squawks and throws a pillow at Jackson’s face, indignant for all of three minutes. 

“Whatever. This just means my expectations are high, you better bring out all your big guns if you plan on wooing me or whatever.”

“I do, Stiles. I really do.”

“Oh my god Jackson shut up.”

(They string the pack along for another few days. They would have gone longer, but on Wednesday, Derek is waiting outside Jackson’s garage again, except this time Jackson is Jackson and not Stiles. 

But it’s probably for the best — Jackson has a better poker face, and if Stiles had to listen to a heartfelt [or as close to heartfelt as Derek got, which was ‘not very’] apology, he would probably have burst out laughing somewhere between “I’m sorry I haven’t been treating you as part of the pack my mother would be so ashamed of me for forgetting the humans role in a pack” and “of course I don’t hate Jackson, does he really think I hate him, I’m just worried about him all the time, god what do I do.”

Jackson does a much better job of taking it all in stride, it’s much easier when Derek has a kicked puppy look about him. He reaches up, claps a hand on Derek’s shoulder, flashes his blue eyes, and simply tells Derek “don’t be sorry, be better.”

And then, of course, any sincerity in the moment is immediately erased when Stiles comes out of the house, idly tapping away at his phone, half a poptart dangling from his lips, asking Jackson “hey babe, do you know why Scott left me three voicemails last night? It sounded like he was crying in the last one, did you hear…oh. Hey Derek. What’s up?”

Watching Derek’s face go from kicked puppy to confused puppy to bright red (when ‘babe’ finally processed in his brain) before finally settling on something Jackson would refer to as ‘gassy’ is probably the best thing that’s happened to him in a month, Jackson decides. 

...Well, second best, he amends as Derek drives away, feeling Stiles kiss his cheek.)

[neurodivergent-fox-demon]

Stackson Week Day 2

The Bleeding Hearts Club

Rating: mature

Other tags: trans lydia, Derek Hale/ Lydia Martin, Isaac Lahey/Scott Mccall/Allson Argent , Peter Hale/Chris Argent, Minor Character Death

triggers: fighting, drug use

Please let me know if I need to add any more tags.

Archive of Our Own

Chapter 2: Fists to kisses

Stiles sat up on the counter, facing Chris as he cooked. “It’s been entirely too long. Thanks for inviting me.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s a pleasure to have you. We’ve really missed you around here.” He grinned, slapping his leg. “What have I told you about sitting on my counter?” 

Stiles chuckled, lightly kicking him. “You love me up here. Don’t act like you don’t”

“You shouldn’t be in here with me, Stiles. You should be out there hanging with your friends.” Chris sighed, crossing his arms. “Why are you avoiding the party?” He turned to the stove and began checking the pots. “Everyone is going to be leaving in a few months, and you don’t want to waste this time with them.”

Stiles groaned, pulling his legs up onto the counter. “Come on, Mr. Argent. I’m not sure that they really want to see me.” He pulled out a cigarette, looking around the room. “I know that is why I came, but… I am not sure.” 

Chris sighed and lit the cigarette for him. “Your friends miss you, Stiles. That is why we invited you.” 

“It’s so hard.” He frowned, laying back on the counter. He growled as Chris hit his hip. “Noah did not raise you to give up because shit was hard. Do not let your friends go because it was hard.” He leaned against the counter and smiled. “Get your ass out there and try.” 

“Fine.” Stiles cursed and hopped down. He kissed Chris’s cheek and walked into the living room. The others were sitting around the television trying to figure out what movie they were going to watch. “Wow. This is so riveting.” 

Isaac looked up at him and sighed. “We really can’t agree on what to watch.” He smiled at Stiles. “It’s like this every time we get together, and usually Chris just gets fed up and puts in some John Wayne movie. Save us.” 

Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “We are going to watch Suicide Squad.” He raised a brow at everyone. “Any objections?” He reached out and pulled the dvd off the shelf. 

Levi sighed, rolling his eyes. “That’s fine with me.” The bell rang and he jumped up. “Oh, I’ll get that. It’s probably Jackson.” 

Stiles groaned. “You invited Jackson?” He sighed as he started getting the movie set up. 

Levi smiled. “Yes. He has to get out of that school.” He walked over to the door and let the man in. “Hey, Jackson. Welcome.” 

“Hello. Um…” He looked around the room blushing. There were so many people. “Hey, Stiles… Mr. Hale.” 

Peter grinned, waving at him. “Come in, take a seat. We are just putting on a movie while Chris finishes dinner.” 

Stiles grumbled and waved at him. “Whittemoore.” He sighed and sat between Allison and Peter. Isaac sat at his feet and he grinned, running his fingers through the other boy’s hair. 

Jackson smiled. “I brought a bottle of sparkling grape juice. I know Levi said to just bring myself, but father always said it is appropriate to bring a gift.” 

Allison smiled as she got up to take the bottle from him. “Thank you. Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll take this into the kitchen.” she glared at Stiles. “Be nice.” 

Stiles gasped, faking insult. “Who do you think I am?” 

Allison rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know anymore.” She smiled lovingly as Jackson sat beside Stiles. She seriously had never seen anything so awkward. There were six people on the couch and the two were trying to sit as far from each other as they could. “I’ll be right back. Pa, can you make sure that everyone behaves?” 

Peter chuckled. “I make no promises, Ally.” He looked around at all the teens around his living room and sighed. “Derek, why don’t you get us all something to drink? I think Chris has some wine chilled in the kitchen.” 

Derek raised a brow at him. “You know that some of us are still under 18?” 

“Yes, and none of us are going out. There should be no problem with a couple glasses of wine, to celebrate.” He grinned. “It’s the first time we’ve all been together in so long. Let loose a little.” 

Derek growled at him. “Bad things happen when we let loose.” 

Stiles frowned. “Derek, we…” 

“No… we don’t need to talk about it. I’ll get the wine.” Derek sighed as he stormed into the kitchen.

Jackson chewed his lip. “I think I’ll just have water. I mean someone needs to drive people home.” 

Stiles scoffed. “Always the straight laced goody two shoes.” He cursed as Scott kicked him. “What?” 

“Allison said to behave. Can’t you be nice for a moment?” Scott sighed and tossed some popcorn at him. 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I don’t like him. I think I have made that perfectly clear.” He got up and walked back into the kitchen. He sighed as Jackson got up and followed him. “

“What is your problem with me?” Jackson sighed, leaning against the counter as Stiles pulled a bottle of tequila out of the cabinet. He grumbled as Chris took it from him and put it on the counter. 

“You just rub me the wrong way.” Stiles sighed as he grabbed a bottle of wine from Derek and poured himself a glass. “You are… god. You’re so judgmental, and the perfect rich kid.” 

Derek raised a brow. “Like we aren’t all rich kids, Stiles? We never based any of our friendships on money.” He smirked, sipping his wine. 

Stiles glared at them. Was everyone going to be on the Jackson train? “Well, he’s my tutor, not my friend. I did not think I had to see him outside of school, where he could judge me on my life choices?” 

“Who’s judging here, Stiles?” Jackson growled, throwing his hands up in the air. “I have been nothing but nice to you, and you are treating me like garbage.” He looked over at Chris. “I’m sorry sir, I do not mean to yell in your house.” 

Chris shrugged. “No, it’s alright. With so many teens in the house, it almost always devolves into a screaming match, at some point in the night.” He smiled at him. “Please just try to enjoy yourself.” He pulled a lasagna out of the oven. “Stiles! Stop being an asshole and call everyone into the kitchen for dinner.” 

Stiles cursed and downed the entire glass of wine. “Whatever.” He stuck his head out of the kitchen and yelled. “Dinner is ready!” 

Chris sighed, pinching his nose. “I could have done that Stiles.” He began putting the food at the table. “Derek. Pour everyone a glass of wine. Um, Jackson, would you grab the salad for me?” 

“Of course, sir.” Jackson glared at Stiles as he grabbed the salad and began taking it to the table.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes and put his foot out, tripping him. Jackson fell forward and the salad flew into the air going everywhere. Peter caught the bowl as he stepped into the kitchen. “Stiles, can we talk in my study for a moment?” He sighed, rolling the bowl in his hands, before handing it to his husband. 

Chris sighed, looking at the salad on the floor. “Dammit, Stiles.” He whispered. 

Peter kissed his cheek, before grabbing Stiles by his shirt collar. “There is extra in the fridge. It won’t be as fantastic as the one you made, but it’ll do in a pinch.” He growled as he dragged Stiles out of the room and up the stairs to his office. “Sit.” 

Stiles sighed, sitting in one of the chairs. “Sorry.” 

Peter shrugged. “No you’re not. I just wish you would not do stupid shit to ruin my husband’s dinner.” He pulled a pill bottle out of his desk and tossed it to Stiles. “Take a literal chill pill. Levi invited Jackson because he is his friend. We don’t really know the kid but we are willing to give him a chance?” 

Stiles swallowed one of the pills and sighed. “I do know him and he’s a complete nerd. You do not want him here.” 

Peter raised a brow at him. “You’ve known him for like a week, sweetheart.” He sat at his desk, putting his feet up. “If I were him, I would have punched your lights out back there.” 

Stiles laughed. “Like he would have gotten a punch in.” Stiles closed his eyes and leaned back. “What did you just give me?” He felt like he was already starting to float.

Peter smirked. “You really should learn to ask before taking the shit I gave you.” He watched him for a moment and sighed. “It’s just a bit of xanax. You will be fine. Are you ready to go back down to dinner?” 

Stiles sighed and nodded. “In a moment. Didn’t you promise me some cocaine?” He chuckled as he stood up. 

“Right you are.” Peter smirked as he pulled a baggy from his desk. “Don’t do it here. I think you’ve disrupted my husband’s dinner enough tonight.” He gave the drug to him and pulled him into a hug. “Let’s go. You owe me $100 for that.” 

“Yeah… Yeah, I’ll get it to you at class Monday.” Stiles sighed as they walked back to the kitchen. Everyone was already eating when they sat down. “Sorry, Jackson.” He chuckled. 

Jackson glared at him for a moment. “Whatever.” 

📚

Jackson walked to his car and threw his jacket into the back seat. He had never met someone so infuriating or had a more awkward evening. Stiles Stilinski was a complete asshole and he found himself wanting to beat the shit out of him. He looked over at the jeep where Stiles was doing something on the hood. He rolled his eyes and walked over to him. “Stiles, I just want to…” He stopped and glared at him. “Are you doing cocaine?” 

Stiles looked up at him and rolled his eyes. “What do you care?” He leaned against the hood and stared at the other man. “I’ve got a hot tip on a party and I plan on having a good time.” He smirked at Jackson. “You are such a square, Jackson. Or should I say Jackass?”

“I’m a square because I don’t do stupid shit, like take drugs?” Jackson glared at him. “You were an ass all through dinner, to me and to all your friends. You are going to get yourself hurt and end up with no friends if you keep acting like this.” He growled at him and sighed. 

Stiles guffawed. “What gives you the right to talk to me about my friends? Yeah, you’re friends with Levi, but you know nothing about the rest of us?” 

Jackson growled, throwing his hands in the air. “Levi told me all about Erica. Fuck.” He groaned as Stiles punched him in the eyes. “What the hell?” 

“You don’t get to talk about her. You have no idea what we’ve all gone through.” Stiles pushed him against the jeep. 

Jackson glared into his eyes. “That’s the thing. You aren’t dealing with it. You’re just going through life ignoring it, and hiding behind drugs.” He sighed and kicked his legs from under him, quickly pinning him to the ground. “You don’t think I’ve learned to defend myself? I’ve been in kickboxing for 12 years.” 

Stiles squirmed, Kicking at Jackson. “Let me the fuck up.” 

“Only if you calm down.” Jackson sighed, trying to keep his own temper in check. “You need to fucking stop acting like an asshole.” 

Stile let out a breath and tried to punch him again. “How the hell are you so fucking strong?”  

“I told you, I take kickboxing. Are you even listening?” Jackson groaned, as he pinned his arms to the ground. “Stop trying to hit me. I’m already going to have a black eye tomorrow.” 

Stiles growled, feeling like walls were closing in on him. “Just let me up.” He whimpered and shook his head. 

Jackson felt a hand on his shoulder as someone pulled him off Stiles. “I think it’s time for you to leave.” Peter sighed, tossing him toward his porsche. “I’m not sure what is going on here but I would hate to call the cops.” 

“Maybe he needs a night in jail. Not only did he assault me, but he was doing drugs in your driveway.” Jackson sighed, straightening his jacket. 

Peter shook his head. “No, I don’t want the trouble. Stiles is strung out and he has anxiety problems.” He looked at Stiles who was weeping, curled against the jeep’s tire. 

“You’re just going to let him do coke in your driveway and go home strung out?” Jackson yelled at the man. 

Peter shrugged. “Honestly, he’s done worse. I’ll make sure he gets home safe, Jackson. He’s going to feel terrible in the morning.” 

Jackson sighed, shaking his head. He stared at Stiles for a moment. He had no idea how he had gone from angry to this destroyed creature in front of him. “You know what? I don’t feel like dealing with his crap tonight. I’ll see him on Monday.” Jackson sighed and walked toward his car. He took one final look at Stiles before he got in the car and drove away. 

Peter sighed, kneeling in front of Stiles. “Come on kid, get your ass up. You couldn’t wait to get out of my driveway before doing that coke?” 

Stiles looked up at him, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Why is everyone on my case tonight?” 

Peter sighed, pushing his hair from his face. “Because you are being a royal pain in our asses. You know, I do not need the cops here wondering where you got that cocaine.” He stood and offered his hand to Stiles. “Let me drive you home and I’ll just walk back. You can pick your jeep up in the morning.” 

Stiles shook his head. “No, I can drive.” He took his hand and stood up. “I just need the time alone.” He gave himself a mental shake and climbed into the jeep. “Yeah, I need to just let some steam off.” 

Peter sighed. “Please, be careful. If you get hurt, I’m not giving you another drug.”

Stiles laughed. He dug into his glove department and threw $100 at Peter. “Don’t  start pretending like you really care.” 

Peter picked up money and shoved it into his pocket. “Stiles, I am the person who has never judged your downward spiral.” He sighed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Go home and get some rest.” He wasn’t really sure what else to say. “We all love you and we don’t want you to get hurt. Well, except maybe Jackson, but that is on you.” 

“Way to ruin my fucking high.” Stiles grumbled as he started the jeep and pulled out of the driveway.

📚

Stiles barged into Levi’s room and growled at him. “You fucking told Jackson about Erica, didn’t you?” He sat on his bed and sighed. He could not believe one of his oldest friends had betrayed him like this.

Levi sighed, rolling his chair away from his desk. He guessed that he could study later. “I needed someone to talk to Stiles. Someone who was not involved in all the drama.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking into Stiles’s eyes. “Jackson had a nice little shiner today. Should I assume that came from you?” 

Stiles chuckled. “He has no right to know about that night and he had no right to say her name to me.” He shook his head as he got up to pace the room. “If you needed someone to talk to, you could have talked to Chris. He is always willing to listen.”

“So is Jackson. I don’t know what you have against the guy.” Levi groaned, spinning in his chair. “It used to be that if I had a problem, I would talk to you, but… Dammit you know, the last time I got to really talk to you was over a year ago. I thought we’d be able to talk to you yesterday, but you were a complete and utter asshole.” He gazed into his eyes and sighed. “The only one you don’t treat like an asshole is Isaac.” 

“Isaac has been through enough.” Stiles sighed. “You know I love you guys, but it’s too hard.” 

“Yeah, he really has, but you need to get over whatever hang up you have that is preventing you from talking to the rest of us.” Levi sighed, getting up to grip his shoulders. “I love you, and I don’t want to leave at the end of the summer with us still being so distant.” 

“Levi. You are missing this point here. You were talking to Jackson about me behind my back!” Stiles growled at him. “I do not want to talk about Erica!” 

“WELL YOU HAVE TO!” Levi shouted, gripping Stiles’s jacket. “You can’t bottle this up forever or you are going to end up dead.” Levi rested his forehead against Stiles’s. “I was hoping that last night would be a fresh start but you refuse to open up to us.”

Stiles pulled away from him, shaking his head. “Yeah, easy for you to say, but you are not the one who killed her.” 

“You did not kill her either, Stiles. It was an accident. The quicker you realize that, the quicker you can move on.” Levi cupped his face, frowning. “I don’t want to lose you. If I have to turn down Brown and stay here, I will.” 

Stiles shook his head, trying to stop the tears. “You can’t do that. You have been dreaming about going to America all our lives.” Stiles chuckled, wiping his eyes. “Can you just not talk to Jackson about me?” 

Levi shrugged. “I’ll keep you out of the conversation. You have every right to ask, but I need someone to talk to, Stiles. You won't talk to me, and I feel like I’ve lost my favorite brother.” 

“Well, I’m talking to you now.” Stiles cried as he fell back onto Levi’s bed. “How do you not hate me?” 

Levi sat beside him, running his fingers through Stiles’s hair. “Because, honestly, you haven’t done anything wrong. You have been dealing with so much crap this year, and you needed time. We are tired of giving you that time and want you to get the help you need. No more drugs, no more drinking, and no more fighting.” 

“I can’t agree to that, just yet. I’ll try, but if Jackson talks to me again… I can’t explain why I don’t like him.” He leaned his head against Levi’s leg, crying softly. “Maybe I should go.” 

“No, stay as long as you want. I’m just studying for tomorrow’s test. You can nap if you want.” Levi chuckled. “You look like rolled over crap.” 

“Oh, haha.” Stiles sighed. “I’m supposed to study with Jackson tomorrow before the test. I’m not going to go.” 

“No, you should go study with him. You need to pass that test. Take a nap and then I’ll help you study when you get up.” Levi smiled at him. “Hey, I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Stiles sighed, closing his eyes. 

📚

Stiles sat in front of Jackson and placed his notes on the table. “I’m sorry I punched you.” He rolled his eyes and opened his book. “I should not have been acting like an asshole. You honestly did not do anything wrong.” 

Jackson looked up at him and raised a brow at him. “Wow, that actually sounded like a genuine apology.” He placed his pen on the table and let out a breath. “You’re forgiven. Now, what can I do for you?” 

Stiles frowned, glaring at him for a moment. “I studied with Levi yesterday, but there are a few minor points I want to go over before the test this afternoon. Would you please be willing to look over them with me?” 

Jackson smiled and nodded. “Since you asked so nicely. Why not?” He sat up and pushed his glasses up on his nose as he pulled up the notes on his laptop. “So these are the main subjects she will be touching on. She is allowing you to have one sheet of notes, and I suggest that you have the formulas written out. I can help you type up a cheat sheet and print it out, so that you can use that during your test.” 

Stiles gaped at him and nodded. “That actually does sound helpful. Why couldn’t you bloody tell me that Friday?” He chewed his lip as he looked through the notes. “Maybe I can put the points that I am not as sure about into the cheat sheet?”

Jackson smiled at him. “Well, to be honest, you were not really willing to listen, Friday. You were insistent that I just give you the answers.” He began typing and looked over the other boy’s notes. “That’s a good idea. Why don’t you show me what you’re not sure about and I can try to clarify it with you as I type this up?” 

Stiles nodded and smiled at him. “Thank you. Again, I’m sorry. Levi may have pointed out that I was being unreasonable.” He sighed and pointed at a formula. “What the hell does this mean?” 

Jackson laughed. “That’s actually fairly tricky. Let me show you a little work around.” 

Stiles nodded watching him solve the problem. 

📚

Stiles sighed, walking out of his class. The test was a lot easier than he had thought it would be and he was just glad it was over. He was walking toward his jeep when Jackson pulled up next to him on an electric scooter. “Um, hello?” 

Jackson grinned, chewing his lip. “Hello. So, how was it?” He leaned on the scooter looking around them. There was still another hour until the last class let out and the parking lot was completely clear. “You don’t have a class, now?” 

Stiles sighed. “It was a lot less stressful than I thought. Thank you for your help.” He sighed as he reached into his jeep and grabbed his leather jacket. He pulled off his ties and threw the jacket on. “Here’s the truth. I finished most of my classes last year and only have three classes this year; Forensics, Classical Literature, and trigonometry. The only reason I have not graduated is because I started skipping literature and trigonometry last year.” He turned toward the other man, leaning against the jeep.

Jackson nodded, smiling at him. “Why forensics?” 

“No one has told you that I want to be a forensics anthropologist?” Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “I thought that was everyone’s new favorite pastime, gossiping about me.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. “It’s my favorite class and Mr. Hale is a genius. I’ve taken forensics for the last 4 years and I’m his teacher’s aid for independent study this year.”

 “That is actually pretty cool.” He blushed, licking his lips. “You really shouldn’t be smoking.” 

“Yeah, I know, it’s terrible for my health.” Stiles sighed, rolling his eyes. 

“Well, there is that, but it’s also not allowed on campus. The headmaster or Harris will call the cops on you.” Jackson shrugged. 

Stiles nodded, sighing softly. “Well, I was supposed to meet you in an hour for tutoring, but I’m starving. Want to go to the café? I’ll drive and you can put that monstrosity in the back.” 

Jackson frowned. “It’s just a scooter… but that sounds fine. I’ll pay.” 

“You won’t get an argument from me.” Stiles sighed as he climbed into the jeep. He could not believe he had offered to eat with Jackson, but he was not one to turn down a free meal. “You have a Porsche. Why are you riding around on a scooter?”

Jackson climbed in and stared at him a moment. “The Porsche belongs to my father. There is no point to me having a car like that when I really don’t go anywhere. The scooter is better for getting around campus.” He pushed the glasses up his nose as he buckled his seatbelt. “Though my father did say he’d buy me one when I graduate. It's a gift for getting into Oxford.” 

“Right…” Stiles sighed as started driving toward the little café he frequented for his afternoon meal. “You really are the typical rich boy.” He grinned at him. 

Jackson rolled his eyes. “My father is rich. I do not have a dime to my name.” He huffed, crossing his arms. “It’s not like I go on shopping sprees every night.” 

Stiles raised a brow at him. “I have an after school job, to help my dad so I have money for college… Well I had a job. He fired me last week.” He sighed, waiting at a red light. “Let me guess, your tuition is already paid.” 

Jackson groaned, laying his head back. “I have a scholarship, but I had to work really hard for that honor, Stiles.” He licked his lips, looking over at him. “I’ll admit that I have a trust fund, but I can’t touch that until I graduate college.” 

Stiles nodded, raising a brow at him. “Your dad is really tight on the purses, huh?” He smiled at him, patting his shoulder. “I’m just messing with you. It’s not your fault that you’re rich, Jackson.” He thought for a moment as he pulled into the parking lot. “I don’t think I can go to college. I’ve really fucked that up.” 

Jackson shrugged. “Well, you’ll need to if you want to go into forensic anthropology.” He smirked at him and sighed. “Take a gap year, work on your test results and apply again next year. I can help you.” 

Stiles parked the Jeep and turned in his seat to face Jackson. He was a little shocked that the boy was making such an offer. “Why the bloody hell would you want to help me? I’ve been nothing but an ass to you…” He stared at him for a moment. “I think my father would really like it if I went to college but even if I got in, I could not afford it.” 

Jackson nodded. “You could apply for scholarships or grants. I really don’t mind helping you.” He hopped out the car and started walking toward the Café door. He did not really know why he cared about whether Stiles went to college or not. They barely knew each other. 

Stiles followed him into the café, with a shrug. “Look, you really do not have to do me any favors, Jackson.” He slumped into a seat and looked up at Jackson. “I’ll take a nonfat cappuccino with a honey croissant.” He grinned. 

Jackson chuckled and walked over to put in their orders. He was back a few minutes later and slid into a seat across from Stiles. “Anyway… It’s not that I think that you need the charity or anything, but I feel like you should not give up on college.” 

Stiles chuckled, shaking his head. “You really can’t really leave well enough alone.” He looked around the café with a groan. “I’ll think about it, and talk about it with my dad. If I know him, he’ll be on your side.” 

“Sounds perfect.” Jackson smiled. 

“Why do you care so much? You hardly know me?” Stiles chewed his lip staring at the table. He grabbed a napkin and began tearing it into tiny pieces. 

Jackson watched him frowning. “I feel like we’ve been through this, but the truth is, I don’t know. I don’t hate you and it’d be nice to get to know you better. I don’t have a lot of friends, except Levi. Levi loves you, so you must have a softer side.” 

“Such high praise.” Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “So you just want to spend more time with me? That is weird. I’m a complete dick.” 

“Not a complete dick.” Jackson grinned. “Just a self sabotaging dick.” Their orders arrived and Jackson began sipping his latte. “I don’t know the circumstances very well, but I have decided not to judge you over things I have no idea about.” 

“Bloody hell, you are too fucking reasonable.” Stiles groaned. He picked at his croissant, thinking. “So… Instead of tutoring today… seeing that I just took that test… why don’t we catch a movie? I’ll pay for the movie.” 

Jackson raised a brow at him. “You are offering to spend more time with me?” 

“Yeah, well, Levi wants me to give you a chance?” Stiles smirked. 

“So… is this just making Levi happy or would this be a date?” Jackson sighed. 

Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t really date, and I had no idea you were into guys.” 

Jackson frowned, looking at the table. “I really don’t know what I am into. I haven't been on many dates either. What I do know is that I find you fascinating. I can’t really get you off my mind… Whether I’m cursing your name or smiling over some idiotic thing you’ve said.” 

Stiles nearly choked on his cappuccino. “That is both the worst and the nicest thing anyone has said to me.” He shook his head. “What the hell? I’ll pick you up at 7 tonight and we’ll go on a bloody date.” He smiled ruefully. “I’ll even wear my good jacket. It’s the one without the blood on it.” 

Jackson snickered. “Did you just quote Brooklynn 99?”

”You know Brooklynn 99?” Stiles gasped. “You are way more complex than I thought.” 

Jackson smiled. “I have many sides, Stiles Stilinski.” 

📚

Stiles stood in front of the mirror frowning. “”I look like a spaz.” He sighed, looking at his best friend. 

Levi shook his head. “No, you look nice. Jackson is… I still can’t believe you are going on a date with Jackson. Just two days ago, you two were in a fist fight.” He shook his head and began combing Stiles’s hair. “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

Stiles groaned, slapping his hand away. “Why not. It’s just a movie, right? I can spend a couple hours at the cinema, and I guess Jackson is not such a bad guy.” He glared at him, sitting on his bed. “This shirt is too tight. What is wrong with a simple white t-shirt?” 

“You are not a 50s greaser?” Levi sighed. “Just yesterday you were telling me how insufferable Jackson is, and suddenly you are going to see a movie?” 

“He bought me coffee and we actually got to talking…” He smoothed out his hair again before looking at his watch. “I should get going. I told him I’d pick him up at 7 and the movie starts at 7:30. I really should not be late.” He fiddled with his hands, looking around the room.

Levi grinned. “You are totally getting into this.” He gripped his shoulder. “You are right. It’s just a movie. Calm down.” 

Stiles looked at him, chewing on his lip. “I don’t date, Levi. This is weird. The last time I went on an actual date it was a disaster.” 

“You were 14, and it was to get pizza. We were never going to turn into anything more than friends. I don’t even know why we called that a date.” Levi quipped. “I always had a thing for muscles. You’re too scrawny.” 

Stiles laughed. “Good thing Derek is completely in love with you. He’s got plenty of muscles.” He raised a brow. “So, why did you dump him?” 

Levi groaned. “Not you too. I’m going to the states. I do not want him to have to wait for me. What if I don’t come back?” 

“He’d go with you if you asked. He loves you.” 

“That is not fair to him, Stiles.” Levi shook his head. “And it’s too much pressure. I’m only 18, and he wants a more permanent relationship. Yes, I love him. He has supported me through so much… Erica’s death and my transition, but I don’t know if I’m ready to marry him.” 

“He’s not asking you to, Levi.” Stiles groaned. “Isaac says he’s completely shattered about losing you. Just talk to him. Let him know what you want and let him decide whether he wants to wait for you.” 

Levi glared at him. ‘I’ll think about it. When did you become the reasonable one?” 

“I’ve always been reasonable. Sometimes falling apart is the logical solution.” Stiles grinned. “You deserve for you and Derek to figure this out.” 

Levi nodded. “Get out and go on your date.” 

Stiles chuckled. “Fine. Love you, Levi.” 

“Yeah, yeah love you too.” Levi sighed, slumping in his chair.

📚

Jackson fixed the sleeves on his black button up and looked at himself in the mirror. He knew this was just supposed to be a simple movie date but he was killing himself trying to look nice. He fixed his hair a final time and grabbed his wallet and keys, pushing them into the pocket of his slacks. There was a knock at his door and he went over to answer. 

Stiles stood at the door, staring at him. “Wow, you clean up nicely.” He chuckled and blushed softly. “That was awkward…” 

Jackson laughed. “You look very nice too. Where would you even get red jeans that are that tight?” 

“Oh, I borrowed them from Levi. You’d have to ask him.” He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “Are you ready to go?” 

Jackson chewed his lip and nodded. “Uh, yeah. Let me just grab the keys to my dad’s car and we can get going.” 

“No, I can drive.” Stiles frowned. “If you don’t mind.”

Jackson shrugged. “If you’re sure.” He led Stiles out of his room, locking the door behind him. “It’s a pretty cool jeep. Kind of old but it’s got character.”

Stiles smiled as they walked down to the parking lot. “Yeah, it was my mom’s. My dad gave it to me when I got my license. It’s better than riding around town in a sheriff’s cruiser.” 

“Wow, I’ve never heard you talk about your mom before.” Jackson smiled at him. “She sounds like a pretty cool person, I guess.” 

Stiles nodded. “She died when I was ten. I really don’t know much about her.” 

“Oh, sorry.” 

“No, you didn’t know. It was frontotemporal dementia.” Stiles shook his head as he opened the jeep door for Jackson. “Why don’t you tell me about your parents? I mean you’re the headmaster’s son. That is crazy.” He chuckled. 

Jackson laughed, climbing into the vehicle. “Actually I’m adopted.” 

Stiles closed the door, staring at him. “Really? I guess your parents chose you. My father is stuck with me.” He chuckled. 

Jackson laughed, shaking his head. “Come on or we’ll be late for the movie.” 

“Well, there’ll be like 15 minutes of previews first.” Stiles smiled climbing into the jeep. 

“That is the best part.” Jackson frowned. He was actually surprised that they were having fun already. “You cannot enjoy the movie without watching the previews first.” 

Stiles laughed, putting the jeep into drive. “That is absolutely insane, but I guess I can get us there in time for your previews.” He smiled at the other man and started toward the cinema. “So, do you have any contact with your birth parents or is it some sort of sealed documents thing?”

Jackson blushed. “Uh, my parents were involved in a car accident when my mum was pregnant. My dad died on the scene.” He gulped looking down at his hands. “My mum was put on life support and died less than an hour after I was born.” 

Stiles cursed, shaking his head. “Dude, I’m so sorry. I’m such an asshole.” 

Jackson smiled at him. “No, it’s not like you knew. It’s not something I advertise, you know.” He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “I’ve always felt lucky to have the Whittmores in my life. They’re good people.” 

“Okay, let’s just start over. I keep making this night awkward.” Stiles sighed, rolling his eyes. “So, this movie is in a foreign language. Is that alright? French… Do you speak French?” 

Jackson smiled and nodded. “Fluently. I love French movies. Thank you.” He fiddled with his watch as he watched the town go by. Stiles was right about this being a little awkward but he was glad that he had decided to go out with him. He seemed more human tonight, more down to earth. “I did not see you as a foreign film guy.” 

Stiles chuckled. “I have many sides, Jackson Whittemore.” He smirked, licking his lips. 

Jackson laughed. “Touché.” He blushed, looking away from him. That was entirely too cute.  “Why are you being this pleasant? It seems so unlike you.” 

Stiles shrugged. “I’m not sure. I… I haven’t really been on a date. Well there was one when I was 14, but that was with Levi, and we were always too much like siblings, you know.” 

“Yeah, I get it. I’ve only ever gone out with girls my parents have set me up with. I never really liked them, but they were a pleasant enough experience. I wasn’t really sure what to expect tonight. My father told me to stay away from you, and he would be quite upset to know I agreed to a movie with you.”

Stiles sighed and nodded. “Well as many times I end up in his office, I can understand. I’m glad that you agreed to go out with me though. I’m having a good time.” Stiles parked the jeep behind the cinema and smiled. “Let’s go watch a movie.” 

Jackson nodded, hopping out of the jeep. “That sounds like an absolutely amazing idea.” He walked around and offered his hand to the other man. 

Stiles looked at his hand for a moment before lacing their fingers together as they headed for the front of the theater. 

📚

Jackson chuckled as he fumbled with his keys outside his dorm room. “Tonight has been fun. Thank you.” 

Stiles nodded, leaning against the door frame. “It was a lot more fun than I thought it would be. We went a whole day without fighting. It’s a record for us.” He smirked, looking up at him. “So…” 

Jackson chewed his lip, unlocking his door. “So, why don’t you come in? I'm sure that we can afford a few more moments together.” 

Stiles laughed softly. “I would like that? Have anything to drink?” He grinned as he walked into the room. 

Jackson nodded, thinking. “I have Dr, Pepper or water.” He walked over to his mini fridge and pulled out a couple bottles, showing them to Stiles. 

“Oh, glass bottled Dr. Pepper. I’ll take one of those. They’re the best.” Stiles chuckled, taking a seat at Jackson’s desk. It seemed the most logical choice being that he had never been in Jackson’s room before. 

“Ice?” Jackson asked. Stiles shook his head and Jackson just handed him the bottle. “That movie was nice. Gerard Depardieu is a treasure.” 

Stiles smirked. “Yeah, I barely understood what they were saying, but I was able to read the subtitles at least. It was a great commentary on mental illness.” 

Jackson blushed. “You got that too?” He sipped a bottle of water, looking around the room. “I would love to be an artist in France. I guess that is a silly dream though. I’m destined to be a politician.” He sighed, sitting on his bed.

Stiles shook his head. “It’s not silly, Jackson. I can’t see why you can’t be both. I mean politicians have hobbies don’t they, but do you really want to go into politics? It doesn’t look like you enjoy the idea.” 

Jackson sighed. “Not really, but it’s what my father wants for me. He has been planning for this all my life.” 

“You’re an adult Jackson… you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” Stiles opened his soda, taking a drink. “But it’s none of my business.” He smiled, winking at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun with another person, outside of my usual group of friends.” 

Jackson's cheeks warmed to a dark pink as he stared at Stiles. “Oh, wow. Thank you. I don’t know what to say.” He chewed his lip reaching over to pull Stiles’s chair closer to the bed. “I had a great time tonight, Stiles. Thank you. I needed to do this.” 

Stiles gulped, staring into his eyes. He placed his soda on the desk and reached up to trace under Jackson’s black eyes. “You are actually quite beautiful. I’m sorry that I punched you.” 

Jackson gasped. “I already forgave you for that. It was such a ridiculous argument. I should not have brought up your friend, and I’m sorry for pinning you to the ground. Mr. Hale said you have an issue with personal space.”  

Stiles chuckled, shaking his head. “It was the only way to keep me from hitting you again.” Their faces were inches apart and Stiles let out a long breath. “I’m going to kiss you now.” 

Jackson gulped and nodded. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” Stiles sighed, pressing a soft to Jackson’s lips. He heard the other man whimper and slowly began to deepen the kiss. 

Jackson groaned as Stiles licked his bottom lip. He opened his mouth in surprise and stiles nipped at his lip. He pulled back with his face flushing. “Mon Dieu.” He smiled, biting his lip. “That was…” 

“Amazing.” Stiles smiled, running a hand through his hair. “Was that okay?” 

Jackson smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve never really kissed anyone before. I did not think it would feel like this.” 

“You’ve never been kissed before?” Stiles smirked. “I feel like I should be honored.” He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, we should do this again sometimes.” He grinned at the other man, sipping his soda. 

Jackson nodded as he stood up. He knew that he should not have told him that. “Let me see you out. I'd love to do this again.” He smiled, offering his hand to Stiles. 

Stiles took his hand and walked to the door with him. He stopped right outside the door and sighed. “Can I kiss you again?” 

Jackson nodded. “I would like that.” He sighed as he kissed Stiles, cupping his cheek. 

Stiles pulled back after a moment, smiling. “Good night, Jackson.” 

“Goodnight, Stiles.” Jackson grinned. “I’ll see you tomorrow…” He fixed his glasses and bit his lip. “Wait, give me your phone.” 

“…Alright.” Stiles raised a brow and handed him the phone. 

Jackson programmed his number into the phone and handed it back to Stiles. “Call me.” 

Stiles laughed softly and nodded. “I’ll do that. I’ll let you know I got home alright.” He grinned as he walked down the hall. He could not believe that the night had been so amazing, 

To be continued…

[otg2012]

No idea when this was posted but I totally missed it and well, I hope people will participate as you can never have enough stackson content.

STACKSON WEEK 2020

May 17th - 23rd


With everything going on in the world right now, we can use more comfort in the things we love. That’s why we’re happy to announce another week of celebrating everything Stiles/Jackson!


Stackson Week is for creating Stackson content and also supporting their creators. We welcome any and all types of contributions, whether they be fics, art, gifs, playlists, edits, or whatever else you can come up with. The goal is to celebrate Stiles and Jackson, no matter which form it takes.


–

The optional themes for 2020:


» DAY 1: Trapped Together || To start everything off, let’s get into the quarantine season with Stiles and Jackson trapped together alone for reasons (the prison van is one place to start)

» DAY 2: Missing Scenes or Scene Stealer || Diverge from canon by creating more Stiles and Jackson moments, or go AU entirely by remaking any part of your favorite book/film/series into Stackson

» DAY 3: Future fic or Kid fic || Imagine Stackson in the future with jobs, possibly kids, or go the total reverse direction and imagine them interacting as kids

» DAY 4: Kinky or Magical Mishap || Or both. Lean into that kanima tail potential. Consider that sex pollen, bodyswap, magic gone right wrong, or something else entirely

» DAY 5: Dark AU || Time to get dark and gritty, maybe some combination of void!Stiles and kanima!Jackson, maybe something worse—hopefully with at least a bittersweet ending, but please mind your tags


» DAY 6: Pining or Meet-Ugly || Explore some mutual pining with a sprinkle of obliviousness, and/or have them butt heads as they meet for the first time in disastrous scenarios

» DAY 7: Dealer’s Choice || Choose a theme, any theme, now make it Stackson

–

These themes are merely suggestions. The more Stackson, the better! You may post multiple works per day or just one or two across the entire week.

Please tag your contributions with #stacksonweek2020 (in the first five tags) so we can reblog everyone’s work! You can also tag @stacksonweek if you want to make sure we don’t miss a thing.
 (A warning that if you include any external links in your post, Tumblr may decide to hide it from tags, so we apologize in advance if we miss anyone.)

Reblog to spread the word, and feel free to contact us if you have any further questions!

[domesticated-feral]

for @stacksonweek 2024!!!

Rated T, 6.7k words, Actors AU, Fake-Dating Summary: Stiles gets a call from an ex co-star asking for a favour. The favour? Spend a week in a 5-star resort in the Maldives with him. Of course he says yes to it. Who wouldn't?

[darkjediqueen]

Wolf

Title: Wolf Series: Full Moon Fic(let) Ratings: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Fandom(s): Teen Wolf Category: M/M Relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Jackson Whittemore, Peter Hale, Derek Hale, Cora Hale, Spencer Hale (OC) Tags: Full Moon Ficlet, One-Shot, Alternate Universe, Fantasy AU, Summary: The wolf has protected the village for…

For @stacksonweek

View On AO3

[sapphireginger]

Stiles is training his spark and well unfortunately Jackson is on the receiving end of a spell since it's his turn to watch Stiles. Oops?

@stacksonweek

DAY #5: Magical Mishap

[otg2012]

Day 3: Future fic

It's You and Me, and the Distance in Between

Jackson phones Stiles from college for his birthday... aka Stiles's birthday is one more reminder that having a long-distance relationship isn't easy.

Stiles has just finished tidying up his room when he accepts the skype video call on his computer and Jackson’s gorgeous but tired face appears on his laptop.

“Hey, you got it, right?”

“Yeah, your mom gave it to my dad at the station this morning before going to work, and he gave it to me when I got home this afternoon.”

“Have you opened it?”

“What do you think?” Stiles asks, getting up, grabbing the package from his bed before sitting back at his desk again, showing it to Jackson, perfectly wrapped. “You asked me not to open it like ten times yesterday.”

“Yeah, I asked you because I know you… you can’t resist opening a present for five minutes, let alone two hours.”

“Well, maybe I’m growing up, alright?” Stiles waves his right hand. “It’s my birthday after all.”

“True, happy birthday… You’re older than me now. God, you’re so old…” Jackson smirks.

Jackson’s teasing tone is something that Stiles always likes even if he would never admit it.

“Shut up, you’ll be as old as I am in four months—Wait,” Stiles furrows his brow, “where are you?” Because he’s just realized that the wall behind Jackson doesn’t look like his room and Jackson is obviously on his phone, not on his laptop.

“The stairs. Near the library. Don’t worry, there’s nobody around… everybody is having dinner or studying, I guess.”

“Of course—You were at the library… and you interrupted your studying to call me?” Stiles frowns. “You shouldn’t—”

“I said I’d call you, didn’t I?

“Yes, but I could have waited until tonight.”

“Yeah, and you would have opened it without me.”

“Not true,” Stiles says defensively.

“Whatever. Now we won’t need to find out… just open it already.” Jackson smiles.

“Fine. But just so you know, if you’ve spent too much, I’m taking it back to the store.”

“You aren’t returning shit, and that’s final,” Jackson says with conviction.

Stiles rips off the paper with no delicacy at all and he finds a white box with the ‘Diesel’ logo at the top.

“Fuck,” Stiles shakes his head. “Jackson—”

“Stiles, open-the-fucking-box,” Jackson says, leaning closer to the phone, like if that is going to make any difference.

“Yeah, I’m working on it!” Stiles gets up, leaves the box on the bed and leans over to open it.

“Shit,” it’s all Jackson can hear from Stiles, who is still standing with his back facing the laptop as he takes it out of the box with both hands.

“You like it?” Jackson says, unable to wait any longer in uncertainty.

“You’re insane, okay?” Stiles shakes his head, licking his lips.

“That means you like it?” Jackson raises both eyebrows.

“No, that means… you can’t do this. That’s what I mean.”

“Okay, I’ll take that as a ‘yes’...” Jackson tries not to smirk but gives up after a few seconds. “Put it on, then.”

Stiles is not sure he should, because if he does, he’ll love it and then, there’s no way he’ll have the will the take it back to wherever this gorgeous thing came from.

“Look, if it’s the right size,” and Jackson knows Stiles’s size perfectly, “you’re not taking it back or whatever else is going through your mind. So, just try it on.”

Stiles shakes his head but he puts on the brown leather jacket and unsurprisingly, it fits Stiles’s chest, arms and waist perfectly.

The jacket has a round neckline with a snap-button tab on the neck, long sleeves with padded shoulders, zipped cuffs, chest pockets, side zip pockets, an inside pocket, and a zip-up front.

“Okay, are you going to say anything?”

And there it is, that thing in Jackson’s voice that always gets to Stiles and he feels actually badly for not being more enthusiastic from the start. Besides, he knows very well that it’s not been easy to get this to him since he couldn’t buy it personally and had to get his mother involved.

“Fine, it’s beautiful, okay? It’s perfect, and I love it. Of course, I love it, but—”

“You look seriously hot.” Jackson nods. “Just go and check it out in the mirror because you look amazing. I don’t know why I didn’t get you one before.”

“Because you can’t do that. Normal people don’t—”

“Yes, I can—And I have. And you need to learn to accept gifts more gracefully from now on. Especially from me.”

Stiles snorts. “You’re the only one who—”

“Is your boyfriend and is allowed to get you any present he wants?” Jackson raises his eyebrows. Jackson knows perfectly well that Stiles remembers when he told him the same thing and he can’t possibly dispute his own argument. “In that case, yeah, that’s me,” Jackson nods again.

Stiles doesn’t say anything. He just slides his hand along the sleeve checking out the texture of the leather and opens and closes the zip pockets, before he finally zips the front.

“So, you think I look hot?” Stiles bites his lower lip, obviously not convinced.

“Very hot,” Jackson stresses both words, smiling.

“Shit, why did you get me this?” Jackson looks back at the screen, unzipping the jacket and sitting down at the desk again.

“Why? Jackson rolls his eyes dramatically. “You know why. You’re the one who forbade me to go and told me to stay here studying. You knew I’d get you something even if I wasn’t there.”

“I wished you were here… but you don’t need to be. I’m just talking to you. And... you know what I mean—This thing must cost a fortune. How did you even involve your mother in this?” Stiles frowns.

“Okay, firstly, you’re not, and I repeat: not allowed to google that jacket, so don’t even think about it. Secondly, yes, it’s not cheap, but nothing of quality is, and if it makes you feel better, it’s not too expensive either… this is something that you can use for years and I can afford it, as you know... And thirdly, when I asked her, she didn’t hesitate—she wanted to do me the favor, not to mention how much she loves to go shopping, so maybe this proves that she’s finally accepted you… which I’ll take as progress and growth of your relationship. Plus, you only turn twenty once… I think that gives me a certain reason to indulge... or whatever...”

If there’s a quality that Jackson has is that he always knows how to prove his points and defend all his actions, no matter how selfish or irrational they might seem to other people. Jackson can be insecure and might be sometimes afraid of not achieving his goals, but when it comes to defending his ideas, he’s the most fearless and confident person Stiles knows. He’s definitely going to be a good lawyer. Stiles has no doubt about it.

“I hate that you always know how to make a compelling argument,” Stiles admits. “And I hate even more that you always convince me of your bullshit.”

Jackson snorts a laugh, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I’m good, but I’m not that good, Stilinski—You just know I’m right… as usual.”

Stiles bites his lip and runs a hand through his long hair to move it out of his face and behind his ear.

“Umm… no, I wouldn’t say that… but yeah, I love it… and I love you, and you know that.”

“I do.” Jackson smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s that look in his eyes that Stiles can recognize too easily know. Days like today it’s even harder not being able to reach out to touch, and feel, and hold each other. It’s bittersweet.

Continue on AO3