Scott.

Even in the fierce rain - like icy needles pricking his skin every painful second - and the suffocating darkness, Isaac knew what he needed.

Or, to be more exact, who he needed.

His hands were shaking uncontrollably, meaning he couldn't quite keep a strong hold on his phone, as much as he tried. Rain was still hammering down, prodding at the phone's delicate screen relentlessly, blurring words and smudging images. The result of this combination was that within seconds of being exposed to the air, the phone was dropped into a watery, indigo shape carved into the ground that caused Isaac to swear at a surprising volume.

As presumed, the phone was now spluttering out its last breaths, drowned by the puddle, the screen fading simultaneously with Isaac's last spot of hope.

"No-" Isaac moaned, his heart sinking in his chest, knowing what he'd have to do if he wanted to be sheltered tonight. The one thing that he wanted to do the least.

He was going to have to go to Scott's house.

A small part of him buzzed at this thought, warming him through, but the rest of his cold, sodden body crushed it; now wasn't the time to be thinking such things. Now was the time for survival, not a schoolgirl crush.

Sticking his hands in his pockets, he started the long, dull walk to Scott's house, only to find that it was over faster than expected - it turns out that he'd run farther than he thought in his desperate attempt to get away from Derek and the awful memories.

By this point, all Isaac needed was a little warmth and comfort: the comfort of knowing that he was going to be okay. His body had automatically taken him somewhere he felt safe, and where he knew someone would accept him: Scott.

Numb had crept through his fingers, deeming them useless for the purpose he needed then for. Somehow, Isaac managed to bang his hand on the front door of the McCall residence loud enough for it to be answered.

The door swung open, and a sound reached Isaac's ears that sounded very much like keys rustling inside a purse. A female answered, a frown sketched onto her face as she rummaged in her handbag for something, not looking at who the intruder was for a few distracted seconds.

"Look I'm sorry, I'm just abo-" Mrs McCall stopped short as she realised who it was, her outfit suggesting that she was just about to leave for the hospital, "Are- Isaac?"

The brunette bit his lip, having not quite planned this part of the interaction. Just as he opened his mouth to throw out a possible explanation for his sudden appearance, the woman shook her head and widened the gap between the door and the wall, effectively inviting Isaac into the house.

"Look, I'm just about to head off on the night shift, but Scott's upstairs." She fixed him with her conflicted gaze; she wanted to stay and help the poor boy out, but she knew that she was already late for work, and couldn't afford to be any later, "I hope he's able to help you with whatever's happened."

And with that, and a hesitant smile, she left, letting the door close quietly behind her.

Suddenly, Isaac felt extremely out of place and jumpy. His ears picked up on the sound of a pen scratching, so he quietly followed it up a flight of stairs until he was stood outside a door, his hand raised to knock. However, his brain started throwing doubts at him like darts; continuously and for jest. What if Scott kicked him out? What if he didn't actually care as much as Isaac thought he did? Was this all a big joke that everyone was clued in on apart from him?

But before he let these thoughts get the better of him, he dropped his hand onto the wooden door and waited for a response.

"Come in, Mom."

Taking a deep breath, Isaac pushed the door open, his soaked through shirt suddenly feeling indecent.

"I-Isaac?" Scott's voice rang in Isaac's ears, the realisation of what happened suddenly hitting him with full force and taking over his coherent thoughts, stealing away his breath. "What happened?"

"I'm out," Was all Isaac managed to say; the sharp memories were biting his heart, stopping all other bodily functions. "Derek- the loft."

Slumped on the floor, Isaac somehow managed to collect his thoughts before Scott spoke again, trying with all his might to pay attention to what the other was saying.

Slowly, Scott knelt down in front of Isaac, concern evident in his eyes as he scanned Isaac's face for an explanation. With his defences so weak, Isaac forgot to control his heart rate, and instead just stared into the other's eyes, unabashed at the rise in his pulse that would be painfully obvious to Scott's ears.

Surprisingly, Scott didn't pull back or appear shocked at all. If anything, his expression lifted, but Isaac just saw that as a blur- a mess of emotions he didn't quite understand.

Then, just as fatigue took over his body completely, he felt as if he was being lifted, and a murmur crept into his ear that sounded suspiciously like "honestly".

bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb

When Isaac awoke, it was well into daytime. Gentle warming hues peeled his eyes open, giving him an alien sense of belonging in the unfamiliar place he appeared to be in. The walls were a pale yellow, but were so littered with posters and pictures that they could scarcely be seen.

Realisation suddenly struck him like a blow; he was in Scott's room- wait, Scott's bed.

Just as he started to get out of the warm covers that smelt so tantalisingly familiar, Isaac realised that he wasn't the only one in the bed, and froze; every muscle in his body tense. Taking a deep breath, Isaac finally turned to look at the boy next to him, and then suddenly wished that he hadn't.

Scott was stretched out almost the full length of the short bed, his arms bent above his head in what looked like a semi stretch; his torso was only half covered by the duvet, showing off his near-perfect abdominal muscles where his shirt ended, having apparently ridden up overnight.

In a mild state of shock, Isaac allowed his heartbeat to rise; a combination of waking up somewhere different and the sight of Scott in the bed next to him which his muscly arms so close to-

A breath of movement, the slightest stir- a groan that brought panic upon Isaac like a tidal wave, his heartbeat rising to dangerous levels-

"Isaac?"

Scott's sleepy murmur broke the wave of hysteria in a second, and Isaac's heartbeat desperately tried to recover itself.

"What's wrong?"

"I-" Isaac cursed himself for his stuttering words and uneven breathing, "What are- What did I- What?"

Scott's eyebrows quirked in confusion before a flash of understanding and- was that disappointment?

"Oh, this?" His face split into a comfortable grin, gesturing between the two of them and the bed, which - unfortunately for Isaac - did amazing things to his stomach muscles as he sat up slightly, "Well, you got a bit restless last night, and you, er, kept mumbling in your sleep-"

White brushed over the tops of Isaac's knuckles as he clenched his fist tight, a tight lump rising in his throat, embarrassment smacking him like a brick wall, breath caught in his throat. Somehow, Scott sensed this and cleared his throat, as if to highlight that he was going to stop that train of thought, before continuing with the story on a slightly different tack.

"You wouldn't stop fidgeting until I came and sat next to you."

A faint blush appeared on the pale boy's cheeks, words lodged in his throat.

"Sorry." He eventually mumbled, but this only caused Scott's grin to widen more - not in a cruel way, but more an endeared one, much as one would smile at a small animal taking its first steps.

"S'okay," Scott tried to get the other to look at him, but failed, causing a small frown to crease across his face, disturbing the usually positive expression the werewolf wore.

Isaac made to move out of the bed, a deep pink scattered across his cheeks, but a hand around his wrist stopped his departure – and momentarily his breath. His eyes latched onto Scott's in shock, the fingers of the co-captain burning his skin in a red hot grip that made Isaac's heart race.

"Isaac?" Scott's voice pinched the air delicately, "You're leaving so soon?"

The corner of Isaac's mouth twitched up into a smile.

"Why, you gonna miss me?"

Flirting had never come naturally to Isaac: whenever girls had tried it before; Isaac usually panicked and came out with a line that made these said females blink and stutter their way out of the situation. Not that Isaac had ever had problems with attracting girls: that, he knew. Apparently, his raw pain was attractive to twittering fifteen year old girls who just loved the idea of mending a tortured soul such as him. It was sick, twisted, and totally teenage girl; Isaac detested the very idea.

This was the main stem of Isaac's romantic relationship issues – he never wanted them to develop, so left them stranded and flailing, waiting for a rescue boat in the shape of love that never came.

Reason after reason fired through Isaac's head why he should stop now; stop talking, stop thinking, stop feeling. Even though it wasn't totally one-sided, Isaac knew this wasn't going to end well.

"Scott, I don't think-"

Air rattled in Isaac's lungs, daring him to finish his sentence: to say "we should be doing this".

"You don't-?" Scott's eyebrows creased, thrown into confusion from the previous comment, "Are you sure?"

"I- don't know."

This time, Isaac succeeded in getting his wrist out of Scott's grip, and proceeded to rub his face with said hand, possibly trying to smear off the frown that found its way there.

By now, both boys were wide awake, Scott propped up on his elbow, t-shirt still showing a good amount of skin, and Isaac sat upright with his feet on the ground, where he felt safest.

"Scott," Isaac took a deep breath, "Last night was really messed up about Derek-"

"I know," Scott's dark eyes flickered to Isaac's blue ones, "With the glass. You told me."

For a moment, Isaac felt like he's swallowed an ice cube; its icy burn creeping from his mouth all the way to the pit of his stomach.

"I did?" Isaac tried not to let the panic show on his face, but failed, subconsciously brushing the spot on his cheek with his fingertips.

"Yeah," Scott twisted his body so he was facing Isaac directly, "You, uh, started healing over the glass, so I had to get it out."

"It- got under the skin?" Isaac wasn't sure why he was surprised, because he hadn't had much of a problem before with glass or gravel getting under his skin. However, this might have been because most of the injuries he sustained this way were before he got bitten.

"Yeah," Scott stated, and it sounded so pained that Isaac turned around instantly, jumping slightly when he realised how close Scott's lips where to his own, "I- I was worried about you."

Sky-coloured chips flickered to Scott's warm pools, to his lips, and back again, as if unable to decide what to do.

"I don't want him to hurt you again-" Scott began, but was cut off by Isaac's lips pressing hard against his, cutting off his words and stealing his breath.

Normally, Isaac didn't believe in fairytales, but in that moment, he made an exception.

It was the kiss of dreams; it was awkward and sweaty and teeth were fighting with tongues, inflicting tiny daggers of pain through their nerves: stars were shooting through Isaac's vision and his breath was caught in his throat; goosebumps shivered over Scott's skin, the arousal in them both sky-rocketing.

Suddenly, as if being jolted back to reality, Isaac pulled back, panting heavily, his eyes shiny with suspended tears. Gently, he placed a hand on Scott's chest, feeling the warm heartbeat through his shirt with an overwhelmed expression, exerting only the slightest pressure. Scott's steady hand reached out and held Isaacs, brushing the flat of it with his thumb, eyeing the tears in his partner's eyes with worry.

"Are you okay?"

A small smile grew on Isaac's face, causing his cheeks to go pink and endearing wrinkles to appear near his eyes.

"That's the first time someone's asked me that in… A really long time."

Finally, Isaac allowed his tears to fall, looking mortified when he realised what he was doing, although Scott murmured in his ear that it was good to 'let it all out'. Arms snaked around the upset werewolf, although he tried to bat them off.

No matter how much Isaac protested against Scott's comforting arms – and he eventually gave in – he felt so much safer there than almost anywhere else. Even the loft, where he knew he could rely on Derek to keep him at least slightly out of harm's way, he had never felt so secure; so sure of himself.

"Scott-" He managed to choke out, "I'm so sorry-"

"Shhh," Scott buried his face in Isaac's curls, "It's okay, I promise. Nothing can happen to you here."

The paler of the two let the silence settle before he confided in the other, hoping that a solution could be found.

"That's- the problem, Scott." He tried to get out, but stumbled over his words slightly, "I- I feel really safe."

For a moment, the words hung in the air like heavy glass droplets on a chandelier just waiting to defy gravity. Then, Isaac felt a movement on his head, and realised that Scott was smiling: smiling into his hair.

Isaac tried to steel himself, but couldn't help smiling back. This was the thing that he'd been dreaming about for months, the thing that he'd yearned for for so long; it was happening, it was real.

"It's scary." He murmured, "How safe I feel."

"Good." The firmness in Scott's tone surprised Isaac, but also planted a seed of warmth inside his chest that threatened to make him burst with a strange, dazzling euphoria.

"Good?"

"Yeah." Scott pressed his mouth to Scott's forehead in an intimate gesture unlike any that Isaac had received in the past year or two, "I like that I make you feel safe."

The euphoria and arousal in Isaac battled it out for the top spot on his emotions, euphoria eventually winning, causing Isaac to kiss Scott again; emotion pouring out of him through his undeniable passion.

However, this bliss only lasted a few moments before a call was heard echoing through the house.

"Scott? You home?"

Scott's eyes widened almost comically, alert, ready to move at a moments notice.

"It's Stiles." He bit his lip, "Do you think we should-?"

At this, he gestured to them both and their proximity to each other, silently asking if they should tell Stiles about their... Whatever it was.

Slowly, Isaac shook his head.

"No," He smiled, "It could be our secret."

Compassion filled the young werewolf's eyes as he gazed into the shy face of his partner; so sure that this was the right thing to do.

Stiles called again, this time sounding much closer this time.

"Scott? Jesus dude, answer your goddamn phone."

Quickly, Iac scrambled out of Scott's embrace - and bed - and tried to straighten his hair and act casual, still in the clothes that he came in last night.

"Stiles, in here!"

"Excellent." Stiles opened the door without even registering Isaac, walking straight to the bed and throwing himself on it face-down, almost before Scott had a chance to get out of the firing line, "'Parrently Sourwolf kicked Isaac out the loft last night. Any idea where he went?"

Quietly, Isaac cleared his throat, smirking slightly at Stiles' bunny-in-the-headlights expression when he noticed him in the corner.

"Oh, er, hey Isaac." The brunette tried to recover and failed, "It, er, sucks and all. With Derek."

Isaac nodded his head slowly, as if talking to a child, but it was apparently lost on Stiles.

"So..." Scott swept in to save the situation, "Got any real reason for being here at nine thirty in the morning, or did you just wanna say hi?"

"Oh, just checking in in my buddy," was the reply, as Stiles rolled off the bed in a less-than-graceful manner, "And I thought I'd let you know that Derek has some crazy-ass plan he wants us all to go along with."

"Shotgun." Scott darted up and out of his seat, downstairs almost before Stiles had picked himself up off the floor.

For a few seconds, after Stiles raced downstairs after Scott yelling about "drivers rules", the room fell under the rule of an orderly quiet, and Isaac breathed it in, trying to make the moment last as long as possible.

"Isaac!" Stiles yelled up the stairs, "If you don't get your tiny werewolf ass down here in the next ten seconds, you're walking to Derek's!"

The blue-eyed boy allowed himself a small smile before bounding down the stairs after the others.

Perfect.