"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."