firsttofreedom | Locked to hewhorunswithwolves

Entry tags:

[stiles - hewhorunswithwolves]

Locked to hewhorunswithwolves

Characters: Isaac, Stiles, Greenberg
Date/Time: Sometime after 8pm
Setting: Stiles' room
Summary: Isaac is overprotective and really doesn't like the way the Greenberg thinks he can tackle Stiles and get away with it.
Rating: TBD
Status: Open to Stiles
Warnings: TBD

He hadn't meant for it to get out of hand. He had only meant to talk to him, make sure he understood that fucking with Stiles was a really bad move. But Greenberg just didn't know when to shut his mouth and before Isaac knew what had happened, the other boy had been lying on his side, a bloody nose and split lip and some pretty spectacular bruising forming.

In his panic, Isaac had bolted, taken off out the door with every intention of heading back to Stiles' place. He did however make sure to tell someone that Greenberg had been beaten up. It wouldn't be long until word got out that he was the attacker, but he wanted to be the one to tell his mate. He needed to be the one.

He didn't bother with the front door, choosing instead to scale the house and slip in through the open window.

"Stiles." A pause. "Stiles, I didn't mean it."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Stiles, for his part, had been pouring over a particularly difficult calculus problem when he heard the tell-tale signs of scabbering near his window, indicating that Isaac was here. ...Or another werewolf, but since they had become mates, it seemed all of them, even Derek, were more willing to use the front door.

It was nice, to say the least.

Turning in his chair, he immediately raised his eyebrows at the panting...and frowned at the words.

Standing up, Stiles moved over to rest his hands on Isaac's shoulders. "Didn't mean what--what did you do?"

Now that he's here, fear sets in and Isaac hesitates. He doesn't want to see the disappointment in Stiles' eyes that he just knows will be there. Together, they had worked hard at helping Isaac control his possessive, protective side of Stiles, keeping it a manageable level that meant Isaac could tolerate the smell of other people on his mate, when people spoke to him or when he was tackled in lacrosse.

But it had all fallen apart on him today when he'd seen the bruise forming under Stiles' eye and he knew there was more, but Stiles had changed before he'd come in, so while he could smell the pain, he couldn't see the injury that accompanied it.

"I... Greenberg... I couldn't control it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Stiles."

"...Isaac." Stiles sighed and dropped his hands from Isaac's shoulders, only to let them slide through his own hair, feeling his stress ratchet up immediately. He hated seeing Isaac look hesitant--like Stiles was going to do something. The kicked-puppy look was rough to deal with, but damn it--

"This could get you suspended, you realize that? You have got to control this! Greenburg is an asshole, but I didn't break anything, and it's Lacross. I'm going to get the shit kicked out of me."

"I'm sorry." He could smell the growing stress in the air and hated that he was the cause, that he was the reason Stiles was feeling it right now and he ducks his head.

"I tried. I was just going to talk. But..." He sighs in frustration at the memory of Greenburg telling him that it was Stiles' own fault he got hurt. "And the Lacrosse excuse doesn't count if you're own team is tackling you, Stiles. This isn't a training. And if it were, the force he used was unnecessary."

He reaches out to gently touch the bruise under his mate's eye. "Don't think any one'll try that when they find out who broke Greenburg's nose and why."

"Isaac--" Stiles sighed, moving to sit on the bed. "It happens all the time. I'm used to it. I mouth off, I piss people off. I'm always going to pay for it with some rough handling." He gave the other boy at tight smile. "You can't get suspended, Isaac. You've already missed enough school because of the whole 'fugitive' thing. You need to be there. Which means you can't go wolfing out on everyone who things I'm a annoying idiot."

He bat Isaac's hand away when he touched his face, needing to focus. "You broke his nose? Damn it..." His dad was not going to like this--at all. Which bothered him more than the suspension thing.

"Stiles, I can smell your pain. I am aware that you're hurting." But Stiles had a point; he'd fallen massively behind when he'd been on the run from the law and then had, had heaps of trouble catching up again (he still was) and getting suspended would just put him further behind. Although, he could use the time to catch up on other work.

Isaac pulls his hand back as if he were burned and shoves them both into his pockets to resist the urge to touch him again. "I didn't mean it." He hadn't. Not really. But that was how it had gone down. He really couldn't bring himself to feel too guilty.

"Then take my pain away. My dad will ban you from the house if this keeps up. I don't want that, Isaac." He liked not having to sneak around, not having to lie to his dad. Letting his head fall into his hands, he rubbed at his face, just trying to sort it out.

"I know you didn't--but it still happened. I love you, baby, but..." But this couldn't keep happening.

"You can't tell me not to do that and then tell me to do that. That's not fair." Just like it wasn't fair for Isaac to beat the shit out of anyone who touched Stiles. He sighs. He had worked so hard to make sure that this didn't happen, and had successfully gone over a month without incident.

He ducks his head further, eyes downcast. "I know and I'm sorry."

"I survived with this shit and worse before you came around. I know you have an instinctual need to protect me, Isaac. But I'm still able to take care of myself." He sighed, hating to see the other boy look like this.

"Just--we'll figure it out." He pat the bed next to him. "Derek has to have a way to teach you to not freak...or something." Though Derek probably approved, the asshole.

"But you shouldn't need to. And you don't have to. Stiles, I don't care how annoying people find you, they can't just shove you around and pretend it's an accident. I won't let them."

Isaac immediately moved to sit next to him, keeping his hands between his thighs until he was told it was okay to touch. And, god, he wanted to. To check over the bruises and cuts, his wolf howls at him to make sure his mate is okay. "You know I've been trying. For you."

"...hey, it's part of high school." Stiles chuckled. "I know I'm not the most likable guy." He shrugged, moving to rest a hand on top of Isaac's, thumb running over his knuckles. He knew what the other teen wanted to do; he'd let him, even if he didn't necessarily like it. It was occasionally emasculating--he wasn't a damsel in distress. He was a capable guy, most of the time.

But if it made Isaac feel better, he'd allow it; he always did. "I know you are." And for Stiles's part, he'd been trying to stay out of scraps so this didn't happen in the first place.

"Right. Part of high school to tackle your own team mates on the field." Isaac doesn't even bother trying to hide the eye roll. Trust Stiles to see the glass as half full. "I've backed off, Stiles, you know I have. But enough is enough. I won't sit there and watching him tackle you to the ground every chance you get. Might be a bruise today. But it could be a broken rib or fracture spine tomorrow."

Isaac turns his hand over and stretches his fingers out, putting the ball in Stiles' court as far as making further contact. "How bad are you hurt?"

"...I think I'm more flexible than that--I'd have to get tackled by Jackson, wolfed out, to get that spine fracture." Stiles made a slight face. "--hopefully he doesn't realize that." Part of the pack or not, Jackson still for some reason still wanted to rip Stiles' head off a lot.

Letting out a breath, he laced their fingers together, squeezing. "Just the black eye, and a big bruise on my side. Hurts, but nothing bad, promise."

"Don't you put that idea in his head. I won't hesitate in giving him a spinal fracture." Isaac wasn't stupid enough to not realise that the main reason Jackson laid off Stiles was because he was Isaac's mate. Derek had forewarned the pack of what that meant and of just how protective Isaac would be of him.

Isaac nods, focusing his attention on absorbing some of Stiles' pain.

"...maybe that's my evil, nefarious plan." Stiles chuckled, sighing slightly when Isaac started to leech some of the pain away. "You really don't have to do that." But he knew that the werewolf wanted to. Shifting, he leaned his head against the other teen's shoulder, just closing his eyes for a moment. "I just really hate seeing you get in trouble, Isaac."

"Can't get away with it without provocation." But if he'd been put in a position where he was protecting Stiles, Isaac knew Derek would let it slide. Mostly. "I know. But I don't like when you're in pain, Stiles."

Isaac sighs, squeezing his hand. "I know." He reaches for the edge of Stiles' shirt. "Let me see it. I need to know how bad it is."

"Well I'm still pretty sure that Jackson considers my pure existence provocation. But I get your point." Stiles opened his eyes when Isaac moved for his shirt, chuckling.

"Such a nervous little hen..." But he was just teasing; pulling his hand away from Isaac's, he sat up, tugging his shirt off his head, tossing it in a corner. Across the left side of his chest was a deep purple welt, the skin around it yellowing. "It looks worse than it feels, I swear."

"Jackson's a douchebag." Isaac didn't care that he was pack; he was still a prick, now he just had fangs and claws to go with it.

Isaac hissed when he saw it, gently trailing his fingers over the coloured skin, feeling for breaks along each of Stiles' ribs. "Jesus, Stiles. He could have crushed you. I'm amazed there's nothing broken."

"Tell me something I don't know." Stiles snorted. He may have still been bitter over the whole 'Jackson is an asshole to everyone, kills a lot of people, and still ends up with what he wants' part of the 'life is not fair for Stiles' story.

Luckily for him, he ended up with something better, anyways, in the form of the blond that was currently poking at him. "Eh, I'm made of bouncy material. I haven't broken a bone in..." He frowns for a moment. "Two years?" That was pretty good for him, honestly.

"My favourite food is cotton candy." And that, right there? That was a joke Stiles. And Isaac leans forward to kiss Stiles' nose.

"It's not funny, Stiles. It was one thing when you were only participating in training. Now you're actually on the field and your own team tackles you. And it's not Jackson." Who wouldn't, not with Isaac there as witness. "Just... be careful. And don't brush me off when I worry."

"Seriously?" Stiles chuckled. "Well I know where I'm taking you next time the fair is in town." He scruntched up his nose at the kiss, biting his lip to hold back a smile.

At the comment on his injury he sighed, moving to flop back on the bed--and immediately regretting it, groaning slightly. "I know...maybe I should just quit." He hated the idea, but things just weren't really getting any better for him out there; and honestly, he was tired of getting hurt.

"Yeah. Erica bought it once, not long after she joined the pack. First time I can remember eating it." Isaac does it again, just to get Stiles to make that face again, because it's super cute.

Isaac was leaning over Stiles immediately, hand dropping gently to his ribs and absorbing a bit more of his pain. "You don't need to do that." A beat. "Unless you want to?"

"Mmm...well we'll get you more of it, okay?" He smiled, raising a hand to brush through Isaac's hair. He liked to spoil him, as much as he could; it bothered him, knowing all the shit that had gone down, after his brother died and his mom left.

No one deserved that.

Letting out a breath as the pain eased up, he brushed his thumb over Isaac's lips absently. "Well it's not like I'm good enough to go to college on a scholarship for it, and it isn't like being in sports has made me popular..." He hated quitting anything though--he had been getting better, after all.

But yeah, the injuries sucked, he hated how half his team mates treated him, and it bothered Isaac a lot, too.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Isaac grinned. He spoiled Stiles as much as the other teen spoiled him. It was just something they did and it made Isaac happy to see Stiles smile.

"Feel better?" He pressed a kiss to the pad of Stiles' thumb, letting the boy speak. "You won't need sports to get you into a decent college. If you don't want to quit, don't. Just... be careful."

As much as the Beta didn't want Stiles playing and getting hurt, he didn't want Stiles to quit just because of him.

"I did know that, but thanks for reminding me." Stiles grinned back; he was kidding, but he did like that Isaac thought that of him.

He dipped his thumb in between Isaac's lips, running along his teeth, shifting on the bed slightly. "Well, you could use the scholarship--probably would do better if you weren't worrying about me all the time." That might actually work, to be honest. He smirked. "Now since my dad might ground you from seeing me for a while because of the suspension, you should take advantage of the time we have."

Meaning, Isaac, you are wearing entirely too much clothing. Yes, Stiles was a hornball.

Locked to hewhorunswithwolves

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