Work Text:
Stiles tosses his phone on his bed with a long suffering sigh before spinning a few times in his computer chair. “Scott, you suck,” he mutters as he stops in front of his laptop. “Bitch better be ready for some retribution for turning his cell phone off all day.”
“More like he left it at home,” a voice says from his window, and Stiles startled out of his chair, tumbling on to the floor.
“Isaac!” he shouts when he finally identifies the intruder, who is looking smug, leaning against the window pane. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Isaac just shrugs. “I was bored, and I figured you had nothing better to do either,” he tells Stiles.
Stiles huffs indignantly as he picks himself off the floor. “That's where you'd be wrong,” he lies confidently. “Scott-”
“-is busy,” Isaac interrupts with a smirk. “And we both know you don't have anyone else.”
With a scowl, Stiles straightens up his knocked over computer chair. “What about you then? Are you here because old sourwolf kicked you out?” he questions then grins. “Ooh, did Derek sexile you?”
Isaac snorts. “Close enough, actually,” he admits as he flops onto Stiles' bed. “But shouldn't you know all about that?”
“Eww, no,” Stiles says with a grimace as he sits back in his chair, watching Isaac warily. “Why the hell would I care your alpha's booty calls? Well, unless it gets that stick up his ass unstuck, so he stops threatening to rip my throat out with his teeth. Then I'm all for it.”
“Huh,” Isaac murmurs as he stretches out on Stiles' bed. “So, you really don't know. That's a surprise.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. “Sorry, I leave the stalking to the werewolves,” he says scathingly. “Why would I know anyway?”
“Because Scott's your best friend. I thought you two told each other everything,” Isaac states, as if it's the most obvious fact in the world. “Guess not, though.”
“Wait, what? Why would Scott know about...” Stiles trails off, and his eyes widen as does Isaac's grin. “What the hell are you implying, Lahey!”
“Nothing,” he replies as he sits up. “It's not implying if I caught them naked in bed together.”
Stiles chokes on his breath before sputtering. “You did not!” he exclaims. “Scott would've told me. And why would he be sleeping with Derek? They hate each other!”
Isaac shrugs, inspect his nails. “Apparently not. Scott even made breakfast in bed,” he explains. “It was a bit domestic, actually.”
“Yeah, right,” Stiles says with a grimace before pulling out his phone. “Give me Derek's number.”
“Why?” Isaac questions.
Stiles rolls his eyes. “Because I'm going to call Derek, and get this bullshit lie straightened out,” he says slowly as if talking to a child, and Isaac snatches Stiles' phone.
“Your funeral,” he warns almost gleefully as he punches in Derek's number and hits send before tossing it back to Stiles.
Stiles fumbles with his phone for a moment before getting to his ear to hear that last dial tone ring before picking up. “Why do you have my cell phone number, Stiles?”
“How did you know my cell phone number? Caller ID doesn't work on cells like that,” he says. “Hand the phone over to Scott.”
Derek falls silent for a long moment. “Why would Scott be here?” he asks gruffly.
Stiles groans. “Oh my god, it's true. You two are boning! It wouldn't have taken you that long to say otherwise! Scott, I'll never get these images out of my head!” he shouts.
A scuffle occurs on the other side of the phone. “Stiles-” Scott begins.
“Oh, no,” Stiles interrupts. “You're not talking yourself outta this. Why did I have to find out from Lahey? What the hell, man? What happened to waiting for Allison? What happened to the thing where you only liked girls? What happened to telling me developments in your life because we're best bros!”
Scott winces at Stiles' volume. “I'm sorry, all right? It just kinda happened, and it's not really a stable thing yet, so I wanted to wait,” he explains. “And the liking dudes thing is more like a liking Derek thing?”
“Well, can't fault you for aesthetic taste there, buddy,” Stiles says grudgingly. “But personality wise? I think we're downgrading.”
Scott huffs a laugh. “Not really,” he disagrees. “You just don't know him when things aren't a total clusterfuck.”
“Maybe,” Stiles concedes. “All right, I'll let you get back to whatever the hell you're doing.”
“Summer reading, actually,” Scott replies. “Derek's a total literature buff.”
Stiles laughs as Derek's voice comes over the phone. “He'll talk to you later, Stiles. Stop racking up my phone bill,” he says before the call ends with a click.
“Your alpha is very rude,” Stiles tells Isaac as he slumps in his chair, tossing his cell on his desk with a sigh before eying Isaac up. “Wanna get your ass kicked in Mario Kart?”
Isaac quirks an eyebrow, and Stiles rolls his eyes. “Oh, c'mon. You came here because you were bored, and you've already figured out I have nothing better to do,” he states exasperatedly. “Might as well kick your ass in video games while you're here.”
“You're going down, Stilinski,” Isaac says with a smirk. “I have really good luck with getting blue shells.”
“Oh, so do I,” Stiles says as he motions Isaac to follow him downstairs. “It's on, wolf boy.”
They argue the whole way down stairs and spend the rest of the afternoon playing Mario Kart.