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sonderlivra · 5 years

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Jeankasa please ! But with Eren realizing he was indeed in love with her and is really really salty and jealous 😅 Thanks u !

Hii anon! Thank you so much for sending this amazing request in, and sorry for taking so long! Going from the emoji, I think you probably had a fun, teenage rivalry thing in mind?? Tell that to my f-ed up brain because what it came up with is a canonverse angst fest, I’M SO SORRY this is why I can’t have nice things

Canonverse, manga spoilers post chapter uhhh.. the 100′s? Happens during the timeskip.

~3200 words

Again, I’m sorry

—

He’s so used to the steam by now he barely feels it. It’s not even like actual steam, which leaves skin and clothing moist even after it’s gone. Though he supposes it would be nice to have damp clothes for once. The sun is unforgiving in the summer.

He makes his way up the rocky shore, where two people wait for him. This time it’s Jean’s turn, who waits for him patiently. Eren thinks back to their stupid arguments when they were in training. They seem so mundane and faraway now, even though it’s been just about a year since they graduated.

Jean reaches forward to help him over the last rock, but Mikasa, as always, gets there first. As he grabs her hand, Eren observes her closely. Her cheeks have filled out, and she looks stronger, like the Mikasa of old. The thought makes him smile. “Thanks, Mikasa.”

Mikasa gives him a rare smile back, and the three of them make their way back to camp together.

“How many this time?” Eren asks.

“Twenty three, I think.” Jean says. “They were still rounding them up.”

“Let’s hope this lot isn’t as difficult as the last one.” Eren remarks.

“Let’s hope we don’t have to use your Titan form next time,” Mikasa mutters.

“I don’t mind,” Eren starts, but Jean says, his tone more soothing, “Well, Yelena and Onyankopon are getting better at convincing them. Maybe it’ll work next time.”

To his surprise, Mikasa is smiling. “Maybe.”

They are quiet then, but something about the conversation has bothered Eren, like an itch in his brain.

“You’ve put on weight,” Eren observes, and Mikasa glances at him. Jean actually raises his eyebrows, and Eren suddenly realises what a stupid thing he’s said.

“That’s good!” He explains hurriedly. “It’s healthy! I’m glad, I mean. For you.”

“No point in weakening myself.” Mikasa, to his relief, doesn’t look offended. Of course she doesn’t. It’s Mikasa. He doesn’t know why he was worried in the first place.

“Told you the new diet would help,” Jean nudges her shoulder with his.

“You did.” There is an amused twist to her mouth.

“So you admit that I was right?”

Mikasa rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch into a smile once again. “You were right, Jean.”

“Mark the hour and praise the walls!” Jean gasps dramatically. “A miracle, indeed!”

“Oh, shut up.” Mikasa’s smile actually widens.

Sasha comes running up to them, and Jean sweeps her into the discussion, which Sasha makes even more dramatic with her own exaggerations. Feeling very out of place all of a sudden, Eren turns away and leaves them. When he is far enough away, he glances back at his friends, and finds Mikasa watching him.

He makes himself turn away again.

For the first time in their walled history, the majority of a graduating trainee batch opt to join the Survey Corps. The numbers are welcome, and unsurprisingly, all of Eren’s surviving comrades from the 104th (save Armin) are promoted and are assigned teams.

Jean and Mikasa are natural leaders, and Sasha and Connie are not much worse. Eren watches the four of them every morning: the Team Leaders start earlier than him, and his training exercises are limited enough that he has time to observe the others. In the year since they graduated, they’ve all improved so vastly. Connie is more decisive in his movements, Sasha is quicker and lighter on her feet, Jean’s aim is bordering on scary, and Mikasa-

Mikasa-

She is glorious, as always. Sometimes, she flies so fast, you barely see her move from one position to the next. Other times, she is a deadly presence on the field, with unerring aim, unchanging strength, unmistakable in her magnificence. Eren’s eyes are drawn to her all the time, and he feels a jolt of thrill in his chest everytime she moves on the training ground.

Presently, he watches her perform her signature move -a smooth, clean cut with two blades, and a large chunk of fake Titan nape crashes to the ground. The new recruits had been cheering the others during their demonstrations, but now, they are utterly silent. Eren understands, knows that cheers and clapping could barely begin to convey the awe at watching Mikasa fly.

Jean is now saying something, waving his hands to emphasise his point. He makes Mikasa repeat one of her flying spins, and then he takes to the air, and… he does it, too. Not quite like her, not with the same grace and precise movements, but he does it.

The recruits are cheering again, and Eren feels a sudden catch in his breath.

There is a quick, firm knock, and his bedroom door opens.

“Hey,” Armin greets him, his smile not reaching his eyes. “Ready to go?”

Eren slips off the window sill. “Yeah.”

He glances at his 3DMG gear lying on one of the shelves, gathering dust now.

He’ll return it to Supplies tomorrow.

“Wow, the new kids are loud,” Jean grumbles, frowning over his stew. “Were we ever that bad?”

Connie lets out a bark of laughter. “Jean, you were the loudest of us all!”

“Was not,” he quips, annoyed.

“Was too! Wasn’t he, Eren?” Connie grins at him. “Other than you, of course.”

Armin lets out a quiet chuckle next to him, and Eren feels like he hasn’t heard it in so long that his mood lifts and he grins back at Connie. “Not as loud as you were when you attacked that tree.”

“Hey! It was dark and I was scared!”

“Or Sasha when she eats meat,” Mikasa points out.

That statement is so like her, that flash of sudden humour so irresistible that Eren feels a laugh bubbling up. Sasha doesn’t even look up from her food, but she flips them the finger, and Eren does laugh then, along with the others.

Jean stands, still grinning. “Well, I’m beat. Got an early day tomorrow.”

“Wait.” Mikasa stands up, too, holding her empty tray. “I’m coming, too.”

“Do you guys inhale your food or something?” Connie mutters, and Jean rolls his eyes. Eren misses his response when he sees Mikasa lean forward and place a roll of bread on Armin’s plate.

“Eat,” she says softly, and Armin nods, avoiding her gaze.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, and Eren realises she’s talking to them both. “Good night.”

“Sweet dreams, Mikasa,” Eren murmurs automatically, something he used to say everyday when they were young and lived in Shiganshina.

She remembers, of course, and gives him a sad smile, a small nod. Then Eren sees Jean nudge her elbow. “Shall we?”

She nods again, her smile just a little bit brighter, and suddenly, Eren isn’t hungry anymore.

Captain Levi is heading the training today, and Eren wonders if Mikasa and Armin feel as nervous as he does. Eren sees the older man quite frequently -in meetings, in the corridors, sometimes watching him in the ocean or in his training from a distance. But Eren has barely spoken to him since their return, since his incarceration, since everyone died and everything changed.

“Right. We’re going to practice fighting with Eren’s Titan form today. For those of you who haven’t done this before,” the Captain eyes the few talented recruits who have been chosen out of the rest, “you’d better learn quick.”

He begins issuing orders, positioning them around and behind Eren, who finds all of this very familiar. He almost expects him to bark out a “Petra! Rear, left.” Almost hears Oluo’s harmless threats whispered into his ear as the recruits move past him. The painful twist in his chest is strong, even after all these months.

“… Sasha, right flank. Jean and Mikasa take point.”

Jean grins at Mikasa, and she actually smiles back, and something within Eren’s chest suddenly snaps.

“Why him?” He says loudly, and everybody freezes.

“What.” Captain Levi’s stare is all too familiar, but Eren has long since stopped being scared of it.

“Why Jean?” He repeats, the feeling in his chest expanding into a familiar burn.

“Because he’s the best, after her.” Captain Levi gestures at Mikasa, whose face is a frozen mask. “You got a problem with that?”

Jean had placed sixth in Training. After Eren.

“Connie and Sasha are just as good,” Eren argues.

The Captain gives him one cool, long stare. Then he turns to everyone else. “Training is cancelled. Report back to base and get new assignments.” Everyone hesitates a moment, but the Captain Levi is already sheathing his blades, and they begin to disperse.

“Eren, Jean. With me.”

Eren follows him immediately, ignoring the stares, ignoring stupid Jean’s stupid, angry, stomping footsteps. When they are almost at the castle, Captain Levi turns back to face them.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on between the two of you, even now, after everything.” The criticism cuts Eren like a knife. “Whatever it is, deal with it. I’m rescheduling the training to next week. I expect this to be resolved by then.”

Without waiting for a reply, Captain Levi stalks away.

There is a moment of silence. Then Jean takes a step towards Eren, his face twisted in anger, and-

“Jean.” It’s her. Mikasa is looking only at him, and suddenly Eren feels desperate for her gaze, some form of acknowledgement. But she doesn’t give it, simply looks at Jean. “We’re starting drills. Come on.” Her throat bobs as she swallows nervously, and it is then that Eren realises that she isn’t wearing her scarf.

Jean throws Eren one murderous look before letting her drag him away.

Eren spends the rest of the day in the library with Armin. They have found scant literature about the outside world in the Reiss’ secret collection. Still, whatever little was found had to be sifted through, matched and compared against whatever the Marleyan volunteers had given them.

He leaves when his eyes start to burn from the exertion, and forces Armin to go to bed. Then he makes his way to his own room, deciding that’s he’s not hungry after all.

He’s barely turned into the last corridor before someone grabs his arm and slams him against the wall. Eren is unsurprised to see Jean glaring down at him.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He snarls.

Eren feels the spike of anger again. “You, obviously.”

Jean looks like he wants to hit him, and Eren tenses up in anticipation. Come on, do it! Hit me. Make me hit you back, you-

To his shock, Jean lets go and takes a step back. “Why?”

Eren is practically reeling. “What?”

Jean lets out an annoyed snort. “Look, I don’t like you, okay. Never have, and I don’t see that changing soon. But I trust you enough to fight with you. Like Captain Levi said, after everything we’ve been through together-”

Jean stops talking abruptly, his jaw and fists clenched. Eren’s heart feels like it is clenching, too. He feels the truth of Jean’s words burning in his mind, his own shame burning in his veins. He doesn’t like Jean either, but that dislike is simply based on minor annoyances. When it came to it, he could trust Jean with his life.

Then… why-?

“So why are you sabotaging my success within the Corps?” Jean runs his hand through his hair, and Eren feels a jolt when he realises he does the same thing when he’s agitated. “Do you know what a big deal it is to be appointed by Captain Levi himself? Do you know what the recruits -my subordinates, will think of me now?”

Eren cannot look up from the floor. The shame within him rises.

“I mean, even Mikasa thinks you’re being unreasonable, and that’s something.”

It happens again. Rage sparks through Eren once more, replacing the shame. But before he can act on it, sudden understanding fills his mind, and he freezes, his mouth open, shock and dread pounding in his chest.

Mikasa.

Shit.

“Well?” Jean is frowning now, looking more and more annoyed by the minute.

Eren tries to speak and his voice comes out as a throaty rasp. “What-” he clears his throat, “what did Mikasa say?”

Jean’s eyes widen, and he knows he’s understood everything. The shame is back, burning harsher than before.

“Well.” Jean clears his throat, too, and Eren can’t decide if the gleam in his eyes is anger or glee. “About goddamn time you caught up with the rest of us.”

Eren blinks. “W-what?”

Jean snorts. “You’re the least observant idiot I’ve ever known.”

“Get to the point, Jean,” Eren grits out.

“It’s her. Mikasa. She’s always the point, always has been, and you’ve never seen it.” Jean looks pissed off again. “Everyone could see it, how special she is, how much she deserves, and-” His face is red now. “You never saw it. Never saw her, never cared enough, and now -now you think she’s still waiting? Like she has for years, and you kept pushing her away, and-”

Jean halts abruptly. Then he crosses his arms over his chest, not looking at him anymore. “It’s too late. Do you understand?” His glare settles on him again. “You’re too late now. So you’d best deal with it and let us all do our jobs. Okay?”

Eren can’t say a word, can’t do anything but stare back, his words pounding painfully in his head.

Jean gives him a stiff nod. “See you around, Jaeger,” he mutters and strides away, leaving Eren mute and frozen in the corridor, leaving him feeling terribly alone.

Eren can’t think straight, can’t settle down. He begins to pace his room as soon as he enters it and only stops when he feels the soreness of the soles of his feet. It’s like there’s a howling storm in his head, his moods shifting erratically with each metaphorical gust in his mind.

He still feels angry, feels a wave of fury wash over him every now and then when he remembers Jean’s almost smug face, but then the rage is whiffed away like a candle flame when he thinks of her. When he remembers how lovely her smile used to be, wider and freer when they were younger, how those smiles became more and more rare as the years passed. How much he had missed those smiles until they began to reappear in the last few days. How much he hates that she isn’t smiling at him anymore.

He changes into his nightclothes reluctantly, certain that sleep will not claim him tonight. He is about halfway up the buttons of his shirt when there is a low, discreet knock on his door. He recognises it, and chooses to ignore it. When the knock is repeated, he sighs. “What is it, Armin?”

“It’s me.”

He turns cold with shock. His legs move of their own volition, and he opens the door.

“Hi,” he breathes. “What’s wrong?”

Mikasa looks up at him as if searching for something on his face. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course,” Eren steps aside and she walks in soundlessly. For a long moment they simply stare at each other. Eren doesn’t know what to say at all, because even looking at her face now hurts.

“I just wanted to talk to you about Jean.” Always to the point, always facing things head on. Eren wonders if she got that from him, or if she had always been that way.

“I -right.”

Mikasa is frowning at the floor. “He… he’s changed, you know.” She looks up at him. “Jean.”

“Or maybe you’re just more used to him now,” Eren says before he can stop himself. Mentally, he’s screaming at himself to calm the fuck down.

“Eren,” she sighs, in the same weary tone she has used with him for years. And it is that tone that does it, that makes Jean’s words come rushing back to his head: never cared enough.

“Yeah, I know,” he admits. “He’s more of a decent guy now.”

Mikasa snorts, but her expression remains unchanged. “I’m glad you’ve noticed. But then… today-”

“-won’t happen again,” Eren promises, ignoring the fact that she’s glad.

One of her eyebrows rise slightly. “You spoke to him?”

“More like he yelled at me,” Eren says, with a horrible attempt at a smile. “Anyway, we’re good now.”

“Are you?” Her stare, her beautiful grey stare, is making goosebumps rise on his skin. By the walls, how has he never seen how much she affects him?

“Yeah. I was… jealous.” He’s never one to lie about things (Armin was always better at that), and he’s not going to start now. As much as he feels like he’s swallowed a whole nest of bees, he can’t not tell her. “He’s spending so much time with you now, and you always… it was always me.”

Mikasa simply stares at him, and he wishes she wasn’t so good at hiding her emotions, because he is suddenly desperate to know what she is thinking. Do you hate me? He wants to ask her. Do you still think I’m tactless and immature? Do you think I never cared?

Do you still care? For me?

“He spoke to me,” she says. “Tried to tell me about… his feelings.” She is frowning slightly, looking at the floor again. “Not that they were much of a secret.”

Eren nods, but he doesn’t think she even sees it. She seems focused on a groove between two tiles, her toe nudging along it. He wants to chuck her chin up so she is meeting his gaze once more, but forces himself to stay still.

“I told him -that.” Her nostrils flare and her frown deepens as if the stone floor has mortally offended her. “I told him that he was too late. That there’s no time, there never will be enough time. In this life.” She abandons the crack in the floor and suddenly looks back up at him. Her eyes make Eren feel like he’s burning.

“In another life… things would be different,” she says softly, and there is a small tremble in her voice, enough to make him feel weak-kneed. “But now, with things as they are, things that are left to be done. I cannot -he cannot expect anything more.” Her hands grip her scarf tightly, and Eren feels his eyes burn with unshed tears -she is wearing it again.

“I cannot afford the distraction, and neither, I think, can you.” She blinks at him. “Right, Eren?”

His throat is too dry and he simply nods.

“But I would like to spend as much time as I can with him. As much as this life permits me.” The glance she throws him is like an arrow right in his chest.

“Of course.” He rasps, nodding.

She sighs, and lets go of her scarf. And then she takes two quick steps until she is suddenly right in front of him, and grabs his hand in a blink.

“You look tired. You need to rest.”

“I’ll try,” he mumbles.

She smiles a soft, sad, lovely smile. “Good night, Eren.”

“Sweet dreams, Mikasa.”

She gives his hand a soft squeeze, and then in a whisper of wind, she is gone.

Taking every last wink of his sleep with her.

#snk #jeankasa #mikasa ackerman #jean kirschtein #eren jaeger #snk spoilers #sorry if its too depressing #just taking a page from yams' policy of putting romance in the back burner #still i hope you liked it! :)#asks #delivras #snk fanfiction

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typewrter · 6 years

Text

Scott’s phone vibrates. He lets go of the car door and fumbles his phone out of his pocket.

“You can sit shotgun,” he tells Liam and steps back to sit in the back instead. Liam pats his shoulder as he passes him, tired smile around the eyes.

He only half-listens to Mason’s and Liam’s hushed conversation about the newly bitten wolf whose scent they had lost. Instead, he checks Stiles’ message.

‘Fyi some newbie intern nearly killed ur best friend today! Pointed a LOADED gun at me & then tripped over his own feet’

Scott can’t help but smile as his thumbs fly over the keyboard to reply: ‘Aren’t you a newbie intern too?’ He follows it up with, ‘Sounds a lot like you actually, rmbr when your dad wouldnt give you a gun?’

‘Got upgraded to trainee! keep up, scotty!!’

Of course Scott knows that. Doesn’t change the fact that Stiles is very new at the FBI, does it?

“Are you texting Argent?” Mason asks from the front.

Scott watches the little icon symbolizing that Stiles is typing for a moment longer, then switches conversations.

“Yeah,” he says. “Let him know we lost the lead.”

“Thanks to me,” Liam interject, frustration evident in his voice.

Scott looks up. Liam is hunched up in his seat. It’s night and save for the passing streetlights it’s dark out, but Scott can still tell he has his hands balled to fists in his lap.

“Hey.” He leans forward to drop a hand on Liam’ shoulder, squeezing it briefly. “Don’t beat yourself up, okay? I lost the scent, too. We’re not totally sure there’s even a bitten werewolf here in the first place, right? It’s all just rumors and hearsay.”

Scott’s phone vibrates twice in quick succession. He ignores it.

Mason gives them a quick look. “Yeah, and what am I supposed to say? I can’t even smell the stuff you guys can in the first place!”

Liam gently shoves Mason in the arm, earning himself a “Hey, I’m driving, genius!”

“I’m texting Argent to let him know that we lost the scent,” Scott says and sits back again.

Stiles sent him an image and a text. Still, Scott forces himself to finish his text message to Argent before checking what Stiles sent him.

(After that, he waits a few seconds longer, to see if Liam is really all right. His heart is beating steady, his chemo signals are normal, and he’s arguing with Mason about whether they should throw Corey a surprise birthday party or not. Good enough for Scott.)

The picture is of Stiles; he’s wearing a bulletproof vest with the letters FBI on it over his a dark blue outfit and he’s holding a gun, aiming at something to the left of the camera. The safety glasses on his faces do little to hide the look of intense concentration that Scott’s seen a thousand times before. He’s probably at a shooting range, from the looks of his surroundings.

There’s a curious tugging in Scott’s stomach.

‘Can handle a gun just fine now ;)’, the accompanying text says. ‘Plus I look rly fcking hot holding one so’

Scott has no idea what that has to do with anything but he can’t disagree.

The thing is, Stiles has been – well, Scott would almost say, flirting with Scott for a while now. It’s less crude and overt than when he did it as a joke when they were just kids. More like actual, real, adult flirting, and less like a silly joke. After everything that came with the bite, Stiles had stopped for a while, slowly phasing out the jokes about making out. Scott honestly hadn’t even noticed until Stiles had started up again a couple of weeks ago, mostly over text and on the phone now, since they rarely see each other.

Maybe it’s just Stiles’ way of saying he misses him.

Except, Stiles has no problem outright admitting to missing Scott, (and neither has Scott, for that matter, since he misses Stiles a lot, all the time).

So Scott has no idea what this thing is. All he knows is he always tended to completely ignore those kind of jokes when they were younger and now he wants to reciprocate.

Push the boundaries. Just a little.

‘Didnt know an attractive face was required for being a good shot’, he texts back, lacking anything more clever to say.

They enter Beacon Hills. As Mason stops at a red light, he turns around, trying not to get twisted up in his seatbelt, and takes one, two, three selfies with Liam and Mason in the background, their looks changing from surprised to silly faces with each picture.

“What’re you doing?” Liam wants to know.

Scott shrugs. “Letting Stiles know what we’re up to.”

He picks the second picture to send. Mason’s and Liam’s faces are funnier in the third one – Liam is actually sticking his tongue out and it’s adorable – but well. Scott looks better in the second one, he thinks. He can’t help that he looks tired and sweaty but his smile is less goofy and more attractive. He hopes.

‘Liam&mason say hi!! :D’

Stiles replies immediately with a bunch of shocked emojis. ‘Didnt know u were w/ them! How’s our firstborn doing? Where were u? I dont see any blood’, he adds and then a thumbs up emoji.

Scott is typing a reply, when another message comes through: ‘U rly spending ur weekend at home chasing wolves buddy?’

At that, Scott almost laughs because yeah, of course he does. So does Stiles whenever he gets a chance to be home. Scott regularly has to talk him out of going werewolf chasing (in the nice way) in Virginia, and he’s not always successful.

When another message with more question comes through, Scott just sends, ‘Hold on’.

Mason stops in front of Scott’s house just a minute or two later, Scott’s phone still buzzing in his lap.

“You gonna be okay to get home?” Scott asks, even though they have a car and nothing really happened tonight. He can’t help but worry. Malia likes to blame his mother hen instincts on him being an alpha, but privately Scott thinks that it’s all him.

“Yeah, dude,” Liam replies. “We gonna see you before you leave town?”

“Yeah, I’ll swing by.” Scott gives them each a clap on the shoulder before exiting the car. He barely has one foot on the pavement before his phone starts ringing.

“I was gonna call you in literally ten seconds,” he says as a greeting, letting the car door fall closed behind him and watching Mason and Liam drive off.

“But you haven’t. And you weren’t answering. Could’ve been eaten by a monster by now,” Stiles says, voice going a hundred miles an hour as always.

“I’m not. Still alive and kicking.” Scott knows Stiles can hear him smiling, but it doesn’t matter.

“You ever gonna tell me what you guys were up to or am I gonna have to drive over there and drag it out of you?”

“Dunno,” Scott says. He’s fumbling for the right key for the door, trying to keep his voice down now in case his mum’s already gone to bed. “If me not telling you results in you coming here, then I’m not gonna say a word.”

Stiles is quiet for a long moment. He sounds unusually fond when he demands, “Spit it out, boy wonder.”

So Scott tells him about the rumor of the newly bitten wolf without a pack three towns over, and how it was supposedly a young girl. That they’d gone looking for her, but lost her scent, or maybe never even had it, they’re not sure.

He’s still explaining as he walks by his mom on the couch where she’s watching one of her shows. He stops talking to drops a kiss on her hair.

“Who’s that?” she mouths up at him.

“Stiles.”

“Tell your mom hi from me!” Stiles demands in a loud voice as if he expects it to carry from the tinny phone speaker all the way to Scott’s mom on the couch. Scott winces.

“He yells hi,” he dutifully relays.

His mom smiles. “Hello to you too, Stiles. Tell me how he’s doing tomorrow, hm?” She’s already nestling back down into her blanket so Scott just nods and takes the stairs up to his room two at a time.

“So basically a whole lotta nothing,” Stiles finally sums up when Scott finishes explaining.

Scott laughs. “Pretty much, yeah. I texted Argent cause he was the one who told us about the rumor. If she pops back up again and I’m back at UC, Liam’ll have to go after her. Or I’ll come back down, we’ll see.”

“Think he can handle it?”

“Yeah,” Scott says. “I think he can. Better than he thinks he can, actually.”

Stiles laughs. “That’s cause you always have faith in everyone.”

“I’m just not as paranoid you,” Scott teases back, making sure his voice is soft so Stiles won’t misunderstand. That’s not entirely right anyway, he thinks. Stiles had faith in Scott, always and all along.

“That’s why we’re the dream team, Scotty.”

“Yeah.” Scott kicks up his feet against the wall, lets them slide down back onto the bed slowly. “Miss ya, buddy.”

Stiles exhales loudly and there’s a rustling sound. It sounds like he’s shifting around on his bed.

“Miss you too. So weird not to see your face every day, honestly. Earlier, I was staring at that pic you sent like some kind of serial killer scooting out his next victim.”

Scott snorts. He knows the feeling; though he feels more lovesick than serial killer-like. He’d known that Stiles leaving would be hard on him, but he hadn’t expect it to be like this. Hadn’t seen it coming that Stiles’ voice in his ear would be enough to make his heart beat in a quicker rhythm.

“You coming home for Christmas, right?” Scott asks.

“'Course I will.” Stiles pauses. “You’re gonna need a crowbar to get me off you.” There’s something in his voice – embarrassment, maybe. Hesitation.

“Nah, I’ll like it. I’ll superglue you to me and then no one can demand we be separated for the whole week. Like that time in second grade, you remember that?”

Back then, Stiles had spilled glue on their shirts, causing them to stick together within seconds. This time, Scott thinks, he’d glue their hands together instead.

Stiles laughs quietly. “That was totally on accident!”

“Well,” Scott says slowly. “It won’t be this time.”

He hears Stiles shift again. Suddenly, Stiles smacks his lips, making a loud, obnoxious kissing sound into the speaker. “Alright, Scotty boy, it’s a plan.”

Scott shakes his head and smiles.

#teen wolf #sciles #my writing #ficlet #idk how the fbi works #or how university works in america!#but i had some sciles feelings so i wrote them down #bc why the hell not #this is kinda longish for a ficlet #about 1.7k #just as a warning :)

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