Growing up with Stiles Stilinski as a best friend teaches you a lot. How to successfully pull off a prank call, not to steal weed from a guy who has six goats living in his backyard, how to get yourself out of handcuffs, every reason Captain America is by far the worst avenger and most importantly, how to spot a dumbass idea from a mile away. This, was a dumbass idea. For once, Scott McCall had gotten his best friend and his boyfriend to agree on something (besides the fact that they hate each other). Any other day, he’d be glad that Stiles had gone fifteen minutes without threatening to ram a lacrosse stick up Jackson’s ass. But of course, the one time they actually agreed on something, Scott’s ass was on the line.
It was nearing Christmas…show more content… Jackson just snorted, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and handing it to his boyfriend. “Don’t let him know how much money you have.” He reminded him. Scott fought the urge to roll his eyes before standing up from his lunch table. A sigh came from his lips, making his way to the bleachers.
Dear God, the fucking bleachers.
Unless you were looking to buy, smoke, or sell something you didn’t come to the bleachers. It was pretty much the law for students at Beacon Hills High School. That’s where Isaac and all of his scary yet extremely attractive friends hung out. Derek Hale, the leader of their little pack, only let anyone in for business purposes. They were pretty much the fucking Russian Mafia of BHHS.
He’d taken Stiles there to debrief after the first day of freshman year and he still had nightmares about Erica Reyes threatening them with a dull Swiss Army knife. She scared him the most.
Lost in his thoughts, Scott hadn’t realized he was standing right in front of Derek Fucking Hale whom playing a game of poker with his girlfriend, Braeden, and his twin sister. How the fuck did they get a table for poker under the bleachers? When did it even get…show more content… He thought about protesting, but what good what it do? It was true after all, Jackson was a fucking dick to most people, even Scott. “Look, I’m new at this stuff just..tell me how much you wa-” Scott started, “I don’t carry my shit with me at school. I’ll bring it to your place on the day of the party, 9:00.” Isaac said, shrugging.
He cracked a bit of a smile at the bewildered look on Scott’s face. “So...wait. You’re coming to the party? My party? You’re coming? This Saturday?” The shorter of the boys asked, eyes widening by the second. “Don’t worry, McCall. I know you don’t want me there. I’ll just drop it off.” He totally wasn’t hurt. Not even a little bit. Isaac had better things to do on Christmas Eve (not really). He didn’t care at all that stupid Scott didn’t want him at his stupid party.