Scott McCall.

He's new. Isaac first sees him when he walks into his chemistry class. He's got dark brown hair and brown eyes. His jaw is kind of crooked, in an endearing way. When the teacher introduces him to the class he smiles, and those brown eyes turn from average to remarkable, crinkled in the corner and alight with nervousness and a little embarrassment.

So yeah, he's attractive. And completely Isaac's type. He likes them shorter with a good build, and there's an air of innocence that surrounds him that Isaac wouldn't mind corrupting, if given the chance.

"Cute," Erica, sitting behind him, leans forward to whisper in his ear. "Definitely cute."

Isaac makes a small grunting noise in response.

"Sit next to Lahey," their teacher tells Scott, pointing right at Isaac.

"Reyes." Isaac corrects, because while his parents decided to mash their names together instead of giving their kids just one last name, Isaac doesn't like going by his dad's name. When ever anyone tries, he corrects them.

"Whatever," Harris, their teachers, snaps. "The one with the curls." He says to Scott.

Everyone watches as Scott walks towards him. If he's got an issue with people watching him, he hides it well.

"Hey," Scott says easily, sliding onto the stool beside Isaac's. He puts his books on the table and opens one of them and just holds his pen above the paper, poised to write but not actually doing it.

Isaac raises his eyebrows and gives him another once over now that he's closer. His shoulders are wide underneath his thin sweater, and his skin is a nice naturally tanned tone. His calve muscles, peaking out below his long shorts, are strong looking.

Scott isn't unaware of what he's doing, and a faint blush creeps into his cheeks.

"Hey," Isaac says back, smirking, before finally returning his gaze to the front of the class, where Harris is going on about something that Isaac could honestly care less about. Chemistry was his strongest subject. He wasn't going to fail from not paying attention, just this once.

Plus, the warm, attractive boy beside him is definitely more interesting.

After class, Scott gathers his books and quickly exits the room, stopping only once at the door to throw Isaac one last look.

"I'm calling dibs." Erica says, coming up on his left, her eyes trailing after Scott's retreating form. "Definitely calling dibs."

Isaac's eyes narrow. "No way." He says, because he's already got his eyes on Scott, and plus, this is Erica. He wouldn't let his sister have the new kid even if he didn't want him. It was a matter of pride, of letting Erica win. And he never did that without a fight.

Erica purses her lips. "How about a bet, then?" She asks, red painted lips spreading into a wide smirk. "He's fair game, for now. First person to sleep with him wins."

Isaac arches a single eyebrow. "Deal." He says before really thinking it through, because again, he doesn't let Erica win anything.

It isn't like it's the first bet they've had against each other. There was the time in eighth grade, when Erica had a crush on Danny and Isaac assured her that Danny was gay, but Erica didn't listen. She bet him he couldn't prove it but he did, easily, by asking Danny to the next school dance. He didn't care if his dad had called him a fag after. It wasn't the first time. Wasn't the last, either.

"Let's make it a bit more interesting." Erica offers, crossing her arms over her chest. "If I win, you switch bedrooms with me. Yours is bigger."

"And if I win?" Isaac asks, because he's not agreeing to that without incentive. He liked his room, thanks.

"Then I'll pay for you to get your licence finally." Erica answers, extending her hand.

Isaac takes it and shakes once. "And when I win, you back off Scott."

"You mean when I win." Erica corrects, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. She saunters out of the room, leaving Isaac to think through what he just did.

What if Scott wasn't even interested in guys? Shit.


Chemistry, it turns out, is his only class with Scott, which is unfortunate. He only sees Scott once more during the school day, and that's at lunch. He's not sitting alone, either. Isaac recognizes the buzz cut and the amber eyes of the boy sitting next to him. Stiles, his mind supplies. Weird name, hyper kid. Not terrible to look at, either, but Isaac is pretty sure he's harboured a crush on Lydia Martin for years, which is why he was one of the only guys in school who Erica had turned her charm on and who had actually turned her down.

Isaac's luck turns up when he gets to the locker room before lacrosse.

"New kid's trying to convince Finstock to let him try out." Jackson comments, jerking his head towards coach's office.

Scott is inside, standing beside Stiles, who is gesturing furiously with his hands. Finstock is just standing there, one hand on his hip, until finally he nods his head yes and Stiles' victory cheer can be heard through the door.

"Guess he's getting a chance." Isaac says, hiding a smile, because this could work in his favour, definitely.

Jackson doesn't look pleased. He hates anyone who might be a challenge to him. "Whatever, he can't have my spot." Jackson murmurs, shoving his discarded shirt into his locker with more force than necessary.


"You any good?" Isaac asks, sidling up next to Scott.

Scott's holding a short stick in his hands, helmet on. He's got a determined look in his eyes that Isaac can't help but like. He shrugs once. "I'm okay." He says. "I played on the team at my old school."

Coach blows his whistle and Isaac turns, keeping his eyes on Scott, and backs on to the field, his arms raised in a challenge. "Let's see what you got!" He calls.

Coach instantly realizes that Scott is good for offence. He shoulders almost easily through the rest of the players, those wide shoulders obviously useful. He's not as good of a shot as some of the other players, and he seems to realize this, passing the ball off to Isaac or Jackson on more than one occasion instead of going for the net himself.

"First line," coach grunts at Scott after he blows his whistle again. "We'll see how you play at the game Friday, and whether or not you're going to get to keep that position."

Scott pulls his helmet off and grins this wide, unguarded smile, and it's kind of breathtaking, if Isaac used words like breathtaking. Which he didn't.

But he can't deny that he kind of wishes it was him instead of Stilinski giving Scott a congratulatory hug.


Scott finds himself liking Beacon Hills a lot more than he'd originally anticipated. He liked his old school just fine, and he'd been kind of upset to leave it. But his mom got offered a good position at the hospital that paid almost twice as much as her old salary, and he couldn't let her pass it up just because he didn't want to move.

Stiles makes it better. He hadn't expected to make friends so quickly, but Stiles is boisterous and hilarious and out going, and Scott didn't even know what was happening until suddenly Stiles was sitting next to him in every class they had, inviting him to sit at lunch, and getting him a spot on the lacrosse team.

It wasn't that he didn't have friends back home. He had a set group of friends, ones that always hung out together. He'd never had a best friend before, though. But at the rate they're going, he doesn't doubt that Stiles will probably change that by the end of the week.

The only class he doesn't have with Stiles, though, is Chemistry. Which he has with Isaac.

Isaac, with the golden brown curls and the innocent eyes that really contrasted with the smirk and leather jacket he wore. Isaac, who's eyes seemed to travel up Scott's body when ever he got the chance.

Scott really isn't sure how he feels about that, so instead of sitting next to Isaac again, today he slides into the only other empty seat.

The girl he sits next to is the kind of hot girl who knows she's hot. She has long blonde hair and brown eyes rimmed with dark liner. She gives him a predatory grin when he sits beside her, and he wonders if maybe he should have just sat next to Isaac.

"McCall, right?" she asks, tilting her head to the side.

"Yeah," Scott nods while he sets his books up in front of him.

"I'm Erica," the girl says, putting her hand on his arm. "Erica Lahey-Reyes."

Scott's eyes flick to Isaac, sitting behind in front of him. His shoulders are tense. "Wait, are you-,"

Erica laughs. "Related? We're twins." Erica shrugs. "But trust me, I'm better in every way."

Scott starts to wonder if he can skip chemistry for the rest of the year without getting suspended or grounded. Probably not. Maybe he'd try anyways, he concedes when Erica slips off her jacket, revealing a tight purple corseted shirt, and licks her lips while looking at him.

Scott stops at his locker before lunch to put his books away. When he shut his locker he sees Isaac walking towards him. Okay, sauntering. There was really no denying that he was definitely sauntering.

When Erica turns around the corner and started heading for him, too, hips swaying as she walked, Scott took a step back.

Suddenly a hand was on his arm, pulling him towards the cafeteria. "Dude, what did you do?" Stiles demands, looking over his shoulder once.

Scott followed his gaze. Erica and Isaac were walking with each other now, talking. Or fighting, maybe. Erica looked annoyed.

"What do you mean what did I do?" Scott asks as they get into line.

"The Terrible Twins are already on your trail." Stiles says, raising his eyebrows. "So you must have done something."

"Terrible Twins?" Scott repeats.

"Yeah, Isaac and Erica?" Stiles lifts his shoulders. "Don't tell anyone I call them that. Erica still scares me."

" I didn't do anything." Scott says, looking at his feet.

Stiles claps him on the back. "Well, man, you must have done something, because I haven't seen them on the warpath like that since they both asked Lydia Martin to Danny's party last year."


His first game on the team had Scott nervous. He knew he was good. He played well at all their practises, and while he wasn't the best on the team, he definitely wasn't the worst, either.

"Dude, you'll be fine." Stiles said, catching on to his mood. They had lockers beside each other. Stiles' was a mess, filled with more than just his clothes and uniform. "Me? I'll be keeping that bench nice and toasty."

Stiles wasn't first line, but he didn't seem upset or jealous when Scott had made it. He'd been nothing but happy.

"Yeah," Scott nods once. "Just pregame nerves, you know?"

"Not really, man." Stiles jokes.

Outside on the field, he feels better. The cold air is distracting, and the noise from the stands keeps him from thinking too hard.

His mom was sitting in the stands already, and she waves at him, grinning. Scott waves back before catching the eyes of the girl sitting almost direction behind his mom. Erica lifts her own hand and waves at him, too.

"McCall," Scott recognizes Isaac's voice instantly, which is surprising, because he hardly knows the guy. Isaac jogs over to where he and Stiles are standing, Stiles bent over to retie his shoes.

Isaac jerks his head at Stiles in greeting and then turns to Scott. "So, there's this party after the game. Most of the team's going. You should come."

Stiles looks up at Scott with wide eyes and nods his head fiercely. Scott can't help but feel like there's more to the offer than just a friendly invite, though.

"I really can't-,"

Isaac leans forward, tilting his head towards Scott's so that his next words are for Scott only. "Want to make a deal?" Isaac asks.

Scott just stands there, frozen, because there's something enticing about the words, spoken low and directly in his ear, but he feels in over his head. He's not used to this kind of attention, and it makes him dizzy.

"I score the game winning goal, you come. I don't, you can stay home." Isaac finishes, pulling back.

Scott takes a short breath and then nods slowly. That's reasonable. "Okay."

Isaac grins and backs onto the field, pulling his helmet on as he goes. Scott watches him and realizes right then that he's totally screwed.


Isaac realizes belatedly that he should have specified that if he got the game winning goal, Scott would go to the party with him. Not just in general.

If he had, maybe Scott wouldn't currently be dancing in Greenburg's living room with Erica. How she managed to take his victory and make it her own, Isaac had no idea.

And he was actually jealous. Full blown, furiously jealous. And that wasn't something he was used to.

Sure, he often got upset whenever Erica beat him at something, but this was different. It wasn't just because Erica was one step ahead of him right now with Scott, it was because of Scott, in general.

That shouldn't happen. He didn't ever actually like his conquests. He just found them attractive.

That was how you lost, letting emotions cloud your judgement. He knew that. And he knew that at the rate he was going, he was going to lose the bet and Scott.

Scott had his arms around Erica's waist and they were slowly turning in a circle. When Erica met his eyes over Scott's shoulder, she winked and then leaned forwards and pressed her lips against Scott's.

Isaac left after that.


When Scott walked into chemistry on Monday, Isaac was still furious. He knew he had no right to be. It wasn't like Scott was his. But when Scott looked between the empty seat next to him, and the empty seat next to Erica, who was sitting in front of him for once, Isaac took his text book and placed it on the empty seat.

Isaac was trying his hardest to pay attention to Harris and the lesson, but every so often Erica would whisper something to Scott, and his hands would ball into fists. At one point Erica slid her hand up Scott's thigh. Scott jerked back, and Isaac smiled at that, until Erica grabbed his hand and curled it in her own. He didn't push her away that time.

On the way out the door at the end of class, he shouldered past Scott with more force than necessary.

"You like him." Erica says at lunch as she slides into the seat across from him.

Isaac's fingers pulled apart his bagel, ripping it into smaller pieces. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Erica shakes her head and lets out a giggle. "Oh, my god, you do!"

"I really don't." Isaac says, pushing his tray away from him.

Erica's smile softens. "That's so cute. But you're still going to lose." She says, shrugging. "And I'm probably doing you a favour."

Isaac stands up and gives her a confident smile. "You haven't won yet." He says, grabbing his drink off the table. "You might want to make sure you have the money for my license soon."


At practice, Scott lifts a finger at Stiles, indicating that he'll come over to him in a minute, and walks up to Isaac. Isaac sucks in a breath and pushes down his annoyance, because he's still got a bet to win. So what if he was jealous of Scott making out with Erica? He just needs to push any of those feelings away and focus on winning. And then, Erica would pay for him to get his license, he'd get to rub it in that he won, and Scott McCall would just be a faint memory.

Isaac leans against his locker. He's got his shirt off, and Scott's eyes skim up his body once before resting on his face. Isaac smirks, taking that as a small win. Up until this point, he was starting to think that McCall was completely straight. In fact, after the party he told himself that was exactly why Erica's advances had worked and his hadn't.

Scott's cheeks were slightly flushed, like he realized Isaac caught him looking. "Um, I wanted to talk to you." Scott said, eying Jackson, who was standing beside them, blatantly listening into their conversation.

Isaac crosses his arms over his chest. "So talk."

Scott's sigh sounded tired and frustrated. "Right. Um. So I know you invited me to that party, but then I ended up getting really wasted, and your sister asked me to dance and then she kissed me, and when I looked around for you, you kind of disappeared."

Isaac let that sink in, all the implications and hidden meanings. "So you didn't want to kiss her."

Scott shook his head. "No. I mean, she's-," he stops himself when Isaac raises an eyebrows because, really, that was not a conversation Isaac wanted to have about his sister. "She's cool, but if I hadn't had way too many shots of vodka that probably wouldn't have happened."

"Probably." Isaac repeats.

Scott's cheeks turns red again. "Definitely." He corrects.

Isaac snorts and turns back to his locker. "See you on the field, McCall." He says without turning around. He hears Scott sigh once more before walking away.


The thing is, Scott has always been sure about his sexuality. He liked girls. He'd only ever liked or dated girls. In fact, last year he dated Allison Argent for months, and he'd been so infatuated with her.

That's why he can't understand his attraction to Isaac. First of all, Isaac's kind of a jerk half the time. One minute he's obviously flirting with Scott, the next minute he's shoving him aside with his shoulder. And yet, whenever he talks to Scott alone, and his voice drops to a lower octave, and all of his attention is on Scott, Scott likes it. Really likes it.

And then, of course, there's Erica. Who is Isaac's sister, he has to remind himself constantly. Who he kind of accidentally made out with. Which was really stupid, because he was still trying to work out what the hell he felt about Isaac. Making out with his sister was only going to make things worse.

"Maybe you're bi," Stiles suggests when he blurts all of this to him. They're in Stiles' room, playing Halo. Stiles is better than he is, but not by a lot.

"I don't know." Scott says slowly. "I've never liked another guy before."

"Huh," Stiles considers this. "So maybe it's not about sexuality, or gender. Maybe you just like him. You know, like, some people just click."

"I don't know." Scott says again, because he just doesn't.

"Well, ask yourself this, dude," Stiles pauses the game. "If he kissed you, would you kiss him back?"

Scott considers this. He pictures Isaac leaning forward like he had at their first game, but instead of whispering words in Scott's ears, he kisses him. Scott feels the blush crawl up his neck into his cheeks. "Yeah." He admits, voice kind of scratchy and rough.

Stiles laughs. "Okay, okay." He shakes his head in amusement. "So maybe you should just ask him out?"

Scott groans loudly. "I can't! In case you've forgotten, I kind of made out with his sister."

"Oh, yeah." Stiles nods, thinking. "That was really stupid, by the way. Not that I blame you, man, Erica is smoking hot, but anyways. Wait for him to ask you out?" Stiles suggests.

"And what if he doesn't?"

Stiles shrugs. "Then it wasn't meant to be, man."

Scott snorts out a laugh, because if anyone else had said that, it would have sounded ridiculous and cheesy. From Stiles, though, it just sounded logical.


"Guess who is the best friend in the history of best friends?" Stiles asks, leaning against the locker beside Scott's. He doesn't stay like that for more than a few seconds before bouncing forward on his toes.

"Uh, I'm guessing you are?" Scott says, frowning.

"Hell yeah, I am!" Stiles punches his shoulder. "I got us invites to this party. Okay, rave, technically. I've got this friend thing, Derek. He's not really my friend, actually, I'm kind of in love with him, but really, that's not the point. Anyways," Stiles pauses to take a breath. "I happen to know for a fact that a certain guy that you may or may not have a crush on is definitely going to be there."

"Isaac's going?" Scott perks up, and then mentally slaps himself, because he sounds so happy about that, and that just confuses him farther.

"Definitely, dude. This is, like, perfect. You don't have to go together, but when we get there you can just ask him to dance or something. No strings attached, so risk of embarrassment. It's genius."

Scott closes his locker, trying to figure out whether he feels giddy or sick to his stomach. Maybe a bit of both.


"Look who's here." Erica says, nodding her head in the direction of the door.

Isaac can just see a sliver of Scott's face through the crowd as he and Stilinski walk in. He didn't know Scott was coming. Now that he thinks about it, he should have invited him. Or Erica should have. Why hadn't either of them thought about that?

"Hey," Erica calls out when Scott and Stiles break free of the crowd. Stiles looks up at them both and gives Scott a slight push in their direction before hurrying over to a seriously attractive guy with stubble and intriguing eyes.

"Hi," Scott says awkwardly. He's yelling over the music and Isaac has to strain to hear him. "Um, you want to dance?" He asks, eyes on Isaac.

"Definitely." Erica pushes off from the wall.

Scott shoots her an apologetic look. His eyes are doing this thing that makes Isaac think of a puppy, and it's really annoying. Or adorable. Okay, it's annoyingly adorable. "I uh, I meant Isaac." Scott says, eyes flicking to the ground. "Sorry."

Erica laughs and shrugs. "No big deal."

Isaac doesn't join her in the laughter. Instead, he moves forward and puts his hands on Scott's hips and guides him backwards towards where the rest of the crowd is dancing. The song changes, another upbeat number with way too much bass.

"Is this okay?" Scott shouts when Isaac stops moving them forward. He keeps his hands on Scott's waist, though. "I mean, I know I kind of fucked up, kissing you sister, but I was kind of hoping that maybe you'd give me another chance-,"

Isaac shakes his head to stop Scott from talking. "Just dance." He orders, closing his eyes and pressing his body closer to Scott's. He feels, rather than hears, the intake of breath when Isaac starts moving his hips against Scott's.

Eventually Scott grabs his hips and starts moving with him. Scott's not the most coordinated dancer, Isaac realizes, but his body is warm against Isaac's and he smells good, and whenever Isaac presses his body too close, Scott makes these delicious little noises in the back of his throat, and Isaac decides that he's never had a better dance partner.

He's too hot in his jacket and he can feel himself sweating. His hair is matted to his forehead and Scott doesn't look any better. "We should-," Scott pulls back and nods towards the wall where Isaac had been before.

Isaac doesn't want to let him go, but he's panting and hot from dancing through more than a couple songs, and he agrees.

"I need a drink," Scott pants when they break out of the crowd.

"I think I saw I a vending machine outside," Isaac supplies, nodding towards the door.

Scott grabs his hand and tugs him towards it. Isaac lets him, his fingers curling into the spaces between Scott's. His hand is sweaty, and so is Scott's, and maybe it's kind of gross but he really doesn't care.

The rave is held in a building and when they get outside it's a shock to Isaac's senses. It's so quiet, and the air is cold, and he feels like he can finally breath again. He inhales deeply and Scott let's go of his hand to dig into his pocket for money.

Scott pulls his sweater off and holds it against his side. The back of his white t-shirt sticks to his body with sweat and Isaac admires the way he's is all corded muscle and tanned skin. While Scott puts his money in the machine Isaac can't help but move forward and press his body against Scott's back.

Scott freezes for a second, hand on the machine, and then his fingers curl against it and he pushes back against Isaac. A low sound comes out of Isaac without his consent and he leans down to kiss Scott's neck.

Scott whirls around and grabs the front of Isaac's shirt, balling his hands in it before tugging him closer. Isaac only has to tilt his head down, just a bit, and then Scott's lips are right there, soft and slick under his own.

Isaac crowds Scott up against the vending machine until his back hits it with a quiet thump. His hands grip Scott's sides, holding him in place. Scott gasps when Isaac's fingers curl under his t-shirt, and Isaac takes advantage of that by pushing his tongue into Scott's mouth. Scott apparently doesn't mind, his tongue pushing and brushing against Isaac's, trying to dominate the kiss.

After that the kiss turns into a fight. Scott's nails claw into his chest through his shirts, and Isaac's dig into Scott's waist. Even Isaac can't tell who's dominating the kiss now. Their tongues curl and push and brush against each other and at some point Scott bites hit lower lip, hard, and Isaac let's out an involuntary moan.

His hands, on Scott's sides, move, pushing his shirt up. He's seen Scott without a shirt on in practice and he knows that Scott's stomach is made up of hard muscles and smooth skin, and his hands now explore that, nails occasionally raking into the dents between his abs, until he finally drags the tip of a single finger over the waistband of his boxers where they peak up above his jeans.

Scott pulls back then, breathing heavy and ragged. "We should-," Isaac runs his finger over that same spot again. "We should go back inside." Scott says.

Isaac smirks and takes a step back, lifting his hands in surrender. "Whatever you want."

Scott nods and runs a hand threw his hair. He pushes off the vending machine. "That was, um,"

"Um?" Isaac repeats, raising his eyebrows.

Scott follows as Isaac heads back towards they exited the building through. There should be a guy standing just behind it, who would ask to see their hands to check that they were stamped when they first came in.

"I've never kissed a guy before." Scott says suddenly, and Isaac pauses.

He wasn't sure if he was surprised or not. If Scott had said that before they kissed, he wouldn't have been surprised. But after kissing him, it was hard to believe. He was far too good at it.

"So what's your verdict?" Isaac asks, sounding casual, as if the answer doesn't affect him. But it really, really does, and he kind of resents that, because Scott somehow wormed his way under Isaac's skin and that bothers him. He doesn't like it when people get that close to him.

Scott looks at him out of the corner of his eyes and shrugs. "You know I liked it." He says, huffing out a breath.

Isaac smirks. "Yeah. I do."

Isaac liked the way that Scott's lips were red and full from the kiss, and the slight colour in his cheeks. The way he was walking said he felt just as loose and wobbly as Isaac did, so at least he wasn't alone on that one.

The thing is, Isaac's kissed many people. Too many, to be honest. Some he couldn't even remember. Some he wished he didn't. Girls, guys, he didn't really have a preference. He just liked people.

But kissing Scott? It was like his first kiss all over again. It felt new and different and perfect. If Scott hadn't wanted to stop, he'd probably be willing to do just that all night, press Scott against the vending machine while his tongue explored every bit of his mouth, and maybe his neck, too, if they'd of had more time. Maybe even more than that.

Scott pulled open the door and, just like Isaac had guessed, there was a large man behind it. He raised his eyes at the two of them and Scott blushed. Isaac held out his hand, and grabbed Scott's to do the same, showing off the blue smiley face stamps. The guy nodded and let them past.


Erica narrows her eyes in chemistry Monday when Scott walks into the room and grins at Isaac before moving to sit next to him. Isaac ignores her. They haven't talked much since the rave, and he doesn't really mind, because she was right the other day when she said Isaac liked Scott. He did, and he didn't want to give her that, because she'd hold it over his head.

And yet, he knew they were going to have to talk about it, because he was calling off the bet. If he had sex with Scott, he didn't want it to be a victory against her. He wanted it to be something that actually meant something to him and Scott.

When the hell had he ever wanted that? Sex, for him, was just something he did with someone who was willing and wanted him. It wasn't something that he attached emotions to, because that was how you got hurt. And yet, he wanted that.

He was so, royally fucked.

"So, I was thinking," Scott says, tilting his head towards Isaac, whispering the words so Harris couldn't hear him. "We should go out."

"Like a date." Isaac replies, keeping his eyes on the board.

"Yeah," he can see Scott nodding his head out the side of his eye. "An actual date, not a dance or a party."

Isaac considers this for a second. "Okay." He says finally. He grabs his notebook and scribbles his address on the corner of a page before ripping it off and sliding it towards Scott. "Pick me up at eight. Don't come to the door, I'll meet you outside."

If Scott thinks that's weird, he doesn't say anything. Isaac's grateful because he really doesn't want to have to explain the fact that his dad would probably tell him to go away and slam the door in Scott's face if he asked for him. His dad didn't really approve of anything he did, least especially going out with guys.

"You're actually going out on a date with him?" Erica sneers, crossing her arms over her chest. Her locker was down the hall but she apparently didn't care that she was going to be late if she didn't get her books soon.

Isaac loves his sister. He does. They've always been close. Sure, they fought like crazy and they were always competing with each other, but at the end of the day she was probably his best friend.

"You're going pretty far to win this bet, little brother." Erica continues.

Isaac's whole body tenses up and he slams his locker. The sound of it reverberates through the hallway, even over the sound of everyone else talking or shutting their own lockers.

"There's no bet anymore, Erica." He says, looking down at her.

"What, you're giving up? Admitting defeat?"

"No, I'm calling it off. I'm done." Isaac shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. "I don't want to play this game anymore, not with him."

"Then you give up your room." Erica says, putting a hand on her hip. "If you forfeit I win by default."

"That's not fair," Isaac says, shaking his head. "No way."

Erica smiles but it's all malice and deviousness. "Either you give up your room or you win the bet. You agreed to this, Isaac. You agreed to get Scott to sleep with you or give up your room. I'm not calling off the bet."

Isaac opened his mouth to protest, to point out the fact that she probably had absolutely no chance at winning now, but Erica's eyes suddenly widened and she looked horror struck.

"Scott," she said, taking a step forward.

Isaac whirled. Scott gave him one quick look before turning on his heel and disappearing down the hall. Isaac couldn't move, couldn't call after him. He was frozen.

Hands hit his chest, and he stumbled back a step from the force. "Go after him!" Erica snaps, shoving him again.

Isaac shook his head and headed in the opposite direction that Scott went, heading towards the locker room.

No one was inside, of course, and Isaac went straight to his locker. He leans against it for a second before slamming his fists hard into the metal. It groans under the weight of his hit but doesn't dent.

"Fuck," Isaac gasps, closing his eyes. "Shit."

Of course he would find a way to screw things up literally moments after everything went right. Because that's how life worked. It gave you happiness for a fleeting second, just so you would know what you were missing when everything turned to shit again.

Scott would have chosen that moment to come and talk to him. Of course he would overhear his and Erica's conversation. Isaac wishes, too late, that he had went after Scott. Had at least tried to explain that it wasn't like that anymore. That, yeah, okay, he had been pursuing Scott because of a bet, but that wasn't all it was.

Scott would probably never talk to him again. And he could understand that. He deserves it, in fact, and he knows that.

Doesn't make it feel any better.


Isaac's eyes stay glued to the ceiling. Erica knocks at the door twice, and he knows it's her because the familiar click of heels proceed and follow the knocks. He's got a lock on his door, though, and he's never been more grateful for it.

He doesn't want to talk. Doesn't want to see anyone. He just wants to sit there in self pity, alright? Doesn't she get that?

"Isaac," Erica tries again.

It's dark outside now, the light coming through his windows a faint gold that indicated the setting sun.

"Go away," Isaac snaps, finally breaking the silence.

"Don't be a bitch, Isaac," Erica shouts through the door. "You might want to get out of that bed right now."

"I really don't want to, actually." Isaac shouts back.

"I guess I'll just go outside myself and tell Scott that you're too busy crying in your room to come to the door." Erica says, a teasing tilt to her tone now. "Though last time I checked he looked just about ready to drive off anyways, so I might not have to."

Isaac bolts out of the bed and goes straight to the window. It would be cruel of her to lie like that, but this was Erica. Cruel was her middle name. Okay, no, Malarie was her middle name, but it should have been cruel.

A green car was idling out front. He could just see Scott sitting inside it, fingers tapping restlessly on the dashboard.

"Told you," Erica smirks as he opens his bedroom door and pushes past her.

He doesn't stop t grab his jacket as he walks out the door. It's late in the year and the cold air bites at his skin but he could care less.

Scott looks up when he gets outside and then turns his head to stare back out the front window. He doesn't look at Isaac again, even when he pulls open the passenger seat door and gets in the car without asking if it's okay.

Scott put the car in drive and pulls away from his house. The radio's on, music playing softly in the background. It doesn't cover up the sound of blood pounding in Isaac's ears, though, unfortunately.

"I wasn't going to come." Scott says finally. He still hasn't look towards Isaac.

"I'm sorry." Isaac says in response.

Scott does turn to him then, and his eyes are narrowed. "Am I going to get an explanation, or just an apology?"

Isaac sighs. He doesn't want to have to say it out loud, to admit to it, but obviously he's going to have to if he wants even a chance of Scott forgiving him.

"Remember that first day? When you sat beside me in chemistry?" Isaac asks.

Scott nods. "Obviously." The word is harsh and it sounds wrong coming out of Scott's mouth. Isaac realizes that he's never heard Scott say anything mean or cruel before.

"I liked you," Isaac continues, shrugging. "And so did Erica. She called dibs," Isaac pauses when Scott's eyes narrow at that. "I fought her on it. She made up a bet. First person to get you into bed wins. I win, she pays for me to get my license. My dad paid for hers but he won't pay for mine, so I thought that was a pretty good incentive. She wins, she gets my bedroom. It's bigger." Isaac adds. "So, that's how it started. I'd flirt with you, she'd flirt with you. You were putting up a pretty good fight to both of us, until that stupid party when she kissed you."

"I told you I didn't mean to do that." Scott says, but he sounds guilty.

"Yeah, well, whatever." Isaac shrugs it off because he doesn't want to think about Scott kissing anyone else, let alone Erica. "And then I started to actually like you." Isaac lets out a bitter laugh. "I don't do that, just so you know. And then we went to that stupid rave last week, and we kissed, and I realized I didn't want it to be about that anymore. I was calling off the bet. You're not a prize, you a guy that I actually want to get to know, maybe even date." Isaac looks out the window. "And when I told Erica I was backing out, she said I was forfeiting so she gets my room automatically, and we were arguing over that when you overheard us."

Scott is quiet for a long time, and Isaac's done more talking than he can handle, and he stays quiet, too. Finally, Scott pulls into a parking lot. Isaac realizes they're at the Walmart but doesn't comment on it, no matter how weird that is.

Scott drives at the back of the lot and finally parks in the farthest corner from the store. He turns the car off and looks at Isaac.

"You realizes how screwed up that is, right?" he asks.

Isaac raises his eyebrows. "Maybe."

Scott nods and takes a deep breath. "You're an asshole," Scott says, but his eyes are narrowed or angry, they're just resigned. "And this is really, really stupid of me, but I still like you. I blame the eyes. You're like freaking Bambi after her mom died when you're sad."

"Are you sure it's not by body?" Isaac teases, grinning despite how inappropriate it is, because Scott still likes him. Even after everything, he still likes him.

Scott's eyes travel from his legs up his chest and stop at his eyes. "It helps." He says, fingers curling over the steering wheel despite the fact that the keys aren't even in the ignition anymore.

"I really am sorry." Isaac says again, because he needs to. The words clawed their way out of his mouth.

Scott nods. "Okay." He says, and then nods once again. "Yeah, okay. It's not okay, I mean, you can't just use people like that, Isaac, sex isn't a game. But, it's- okay. It'll have to be okay." His lips spread into a hesitant smile. "Still want to go on that date?"

Isaac frowns. "I thought we were just going to stay parked here and make out in the back seat."

Scott's mouth opens for a second and then he snaps it shut and shoves the key in the ignition with a lot more force than necessary. "If we don't go now I may actually agree to that." Scott explains, putting the car in drive once again.

Isaac can't help the self satisfied smirk that spread over his face at that.


The movie they go see kind of sucks. It was supposed to be an action movie, but it was seriously lacking in actual action. Scott made it interesting, though, whispering comments about the characters and scenes under his breath. Isaac laughed on more than one occasion, and the couple sitting in front of them turned around to shush them a few times.

So, in the end, it was probably Isaac's best experience at the theatre. Especially when you factor in Scott's fingers running up his thigh for the last ten minutes of the movie.

They don't even make it inside Scott's car before Isaac's on him, pressing Scott against the driver's side door of the car. He could admit to the fact that he'd had a boner for about half an hour, and that it was only thanks to the looseness of his jeans that no one noticed when they walked out of the dark theatre.

Scott didn't look surprised at all to find himself trapped between Isaac's body and his car. He just grinned and pressed his lips harder against Isaac's, fingers hooking into the belt loops of Isaac's jeans.

Scott tasted like buttery popcorn and m&m's, an intoxicating combination of sweet and salty. Isaac let's out a moan when Scott's tongue presses against his lips, and then their tongues are curling together, and the taste is intensified.

Scott moves his head to the left but Isaac is undeterred. His kisses down Scott's jaw to his neck, pausing to nip gentle bites whenever he pleases.

"We should-," Scott gasps out, hands curling into Isaac's hair. Isaac lets out a little grunt in response. "My mom's not home." Scott breathes. "We can- my house. Ten minutes away." Scott says, pulling a little harder on Isaac's hair.

Isaac let's himself be pulled away from Scott. Scott doesn't immediately let go of the loops of his pants, but Isaac pulls back until he lets him go, because if he doesn't get some space between himself and Scott here's not going to be able to do anything but kiss him again.

It's then that Isaac realizes what they'd just done, right in the middle of a pretty crowded parking lot. There's a woman in a car a few feet away who glares at him when he meets her eyes. Isaac makes a show of rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth and smirking before turning away from her.

"Your house?" Isaac asks, remembering what Scott had said.

Scott nods furtively. "My mom won't be home until two."

Isaac quickly makes his way around to the other side of the car. His fingers fumble on the door handle and then again on the seatbelt. Scott meets his eyes and laughs, and Isaac notes the way that they both seem almost drunk in their fervour.

Isaac doesn't keep his hands to himself on the drive. Payback, he thinks, for Scott in the theatre, as he grips Scott's thigh hard through his jeans. Scott let's out a his and his knuckles turn white where they're curled around the steering wheel.

Scott lives in a modest neighbourhood. Isaac lives across the street from the Whittemore's, so he's pretty unimpressed by any other house, but Scott's house looks more like a home and Isaac would be willing to bet that on more than one occasion his mom baked cookies. It just looked like one of those kind of homes.

Scott grabs his hand when he gets around the car. His other hand is holding his keys. They climb the stairs like that, connected, and then Scott lets go to unlock the door. His fingers slip and the key slides down the door, digging into and removing the paint.

Isaac just laughs and presses against Scott's back. "Stop that," Scott orders when Isaac's hands slide up the front of his shirt. "You're distracting me." He says, trying to get the key in again. Isaac doesn't stop and it takes another try before the key gets in and the lock finally turns.

They stumble through the door and then Scott pushes Isaac this time, and his back hit's the wall. There's a picture frame near his head and it rattles but Scott either doesn't notice or doesn't care.

This time Isaac knows who's dominating the kiss this time, and it's all Scott. He's not used to that, used to someone else being in control of him, but he doesn't really mind, not when Scott's hips grind forward and their groins press together. The hard on he had in the theatre that had disappeared during the car ride was back, and apparently Scott was in the same position, if the solid weight against his leg was any indication.

"Upstairs," Scott pants in his ear. Isaac makes a displeased noise in the back of his throat. He doesn't want to move from where he's pressed against the wall. He's comfortable to stay there forever, as long as Scott doesn't stop touching him. "It's one flight of stairs." Scott coaxes, pulling back.

Isaac moves forward to grab him and pull him back but Scott's backing up too quickly. He pulls his shirt over his head when he hits the stairs. Isaac watches in fascination as Scott's hands grip his own jeans and pop open the button, and then he gives Isaac a wicked grin before turning around and climbing the stairs.

Nothing, at that moment, could have stopped Isaac from running up the stairs after him.

Isaac doesn't even get a look at Scott's room before Scott grabs him and pulls, walking backwards towards the bed. When his legs hit it he sinks down Isaac moves to crawl on top of him but Scott stops him with a hand on his hip and reaches for the button on his jeans.

"This okay?" Scott asks first, looking up at Isaac with wide brown eyes.

"Y-yeah," Isaac nods, and he pulls his shirt off just like Scott had moments before. He lets it fall to Scott's floor as Scott tugs open his jeans and then the material is sliding down his legs and he steps out of them.

Scott kind of freezes with his hand on Isaac's waist. His thumb slowly rubs circles against the indentations there that lead downwards. His erection is tenting his boxers and Scott's eyes just flicker between it and Isaac's face.

" We don't have to do anything." Isaac says quickly, remembering Scott's words from the rave. He'd never kissed a guy before, so he definitely wasn't experienced in this, and Isaac didn't want to push him.

Scott nods. "I know," he says, standing up.

Isaac can accept that. He isn't going to pressure Scott into something he's not ready for. But when he bends down to pull his pants back up Scott stops him. He wasn't stopping this, Isaac realizes. He was just getting up so he could get his own jeans off.

Scott gently presses on his shoulders so that he's in the same position Scott had been a couple seconds ago, sitting on the bed. He crawls father on top until his legs no longer fall over the edge, and Scott climbs in after him, crawling onto him so that he was straddling Isaac's lap.

"Fuck," Scott blurts, looking down at him. His hands are spread out on Isaac's chest, dark skin contrasting with his paler tones.

Isaac's never heard Scott swear before, and he hopes that it's something that Scott saves just for these moments, because there's something about the way that his mouth forms the word, and the way it hisses out of his throat, rougher than his voice usually sounds, that makes Isaac's stomach clench.

Scott leans down to kiss him again and Isaac props himself up on his elbows and meets him halfway. It's not elegant at all. The kiss it all lips and teeth but Isaac could care less before Scott's hips grind down against his, and there's only the thin material of their boxers separating them and his dick throbs as they slide together.

Scott breaks the kiss and tucks his head into the space between Isaac's neck and shoulder. "I don't know what I'm doing." He admits, words playing against the skin of Isaac's neck.

The complete, raw honesty of his proclamation that push Isaac to tug on the waistband of Scott's boxers, because he doesn't say it like he wants to stop. He says it like he's uncertain of where to go from there.

And Isaac happens to be good at this part. Sex is easy, once you know what you're doing. It's the rest of relationships that are hard.

And yet even this feels different with Scott, because he wants it to be good for him, and Isaac is man enough to admit that he's usually pretty selfish in bed. As long as he gets off, that's all that used to matter.

He doesn't tug Scott's boxers off, he just pulls them down enough to tuck them under his balls. Scott let's out a delicious whimper as his hips buck forward and his cock brushes against Isaac's chest. He pushes on Scott's shoulder so that he sits up again, his form towering over Isaac for once.

Isaac can't decide if he wants to get his hands on him or his mouth. Scott's thick and uncut and while he's not the longest Isaac's seen, he's definitely well endowed. "What do you want?" Isaac asks, blinking up at him.

Scott makes a strangled sound and his fingers curl against Isaac's chest. "Wh-whatever you want."

Isaac grips Scott's waist and lifts, twisting so that Scott has no choice but to roll onto his side, and then onto his back. When Isaac has Scott laying where he wants him he moves down and presses a kiss to the skin just below his bellybutton.

Scott's hand winds into his hand and Isaac looks up at him through his lashes. Scott just pants and watches him, waiting.

Isaac shifts and moves down the bed until he's kneeling between Scott's legs, one hand on his left thigh, the other on his hip, holding him down. When he leans down and nips at the inside of Scott's thigh his hips jerk off the bed, just a bit, proving the hand on his hip necessary.

Part of him wants to draw it out, to tease Scott until he's panting and begging for it, but his own cock aches between his legs and he decides that the teasing can wait until next time. If there was a next time. He hopes there is.

He doesn't get more than his hand around Scott before he moans, loud and drawn out. Isaac held Scott at the base before licking once up his shaft, wondering how many more sounds he could pull out of him. He was quiet, though, until Isaac licked his lips and finally got his mouth around the tip.

He was used to the salty taste on his tongue when he worked his tongue over the head. Scott's hand, still in his hair, clenched and tugged, just a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to cause a shudder to go through Isaac's body.

"Shit," Scott pants, looking down at him. "Shit. Fuck. Isaac," Isaac raises his eyebrows in response but didn't move his mouth off of Scott. Instead, he moved it down, just a bit. "Shit." Scott says once more and then lets his eyes fall closed and his head hit the pillow.

Isaac would have smirked at that, if he wasn't too busy moving his mouth down Scott's length. Scott's legs lifted so that they were bent at the knees, giving Isaac more room.

Isaac breaths through his nose as his mouth meets his fingers, and then he slides back up, much faster than he'd slid down. His tongue swirls around the tip again before his lips slid down the shaft and his cheeks hallow on the upward pull.

It didn't take long until Scott's free hand was clawing at the bed and the only sounds that filled the room were Scott's gasps, the occasional hissed, "Fuck," and the wet sound of Isaac's mouth bobbing up and down Scott's cock.

Scott's cheeks were flushed and his pupils blow wide when he panted Isaac's name again and pulled at his hair, this time not in ecstasy but in warning.

Isaac complies, lifting his mouth off of Scott. Isaac didn't let go of him, though, and just let his hand follow the path that his mouth previously had, movements slicked by the spit left from it. He didn't stop the movements of his hands as he slid up the bed to kiss Scott, open mouthed and filthy. Scott held him by the back of the neck to stop him from pulling away and the moan he made when he finally spilled his release over Isaac's fingers was swallowed by Isaac's mouth.

Scott was still panting when Isaac leaned back to lay against the bed, side by side with Scott, letting him come down from his release.

Eventually Scott propped himself up on one elbow and leaned up beside Isaac. "That was-," he fluttered his hand. "Amazing."

Isaac smirks. "Thank you." He says, because he's a smartass sometime.

Scott nods. "I plan on it."

"On what?" Isaac asks, frowning.

Scott's hand strokes over his erection, still trapped by his boxers. "On thanking you." Scott says, returning Isaac's smirk with one of his own. "I'm actually pretty good at this part." Scott says, freehand tugging down Isaac's boxers like Isaac had done to him earlier. "I've a lot of practice." he continued, fingers tangling into the hair there until the smoothness of his palm brushes against Isaac's length and Isaac's hips involuntarily jerk off the bed. "I didn't get a girlfriend until tenth grade." Scott explains, grinning.

Isaac probably would have laughed any other time, but Scott's hand gripped him, just tight enough to be perfect, and he slowly starting pumping his hand up and down Isaac's cock. Isaac's body had a habit of betraying him at times like this, and his legs jerk a bit and he shudders as his hands cling to the bed, to Scott's arms or shoulders or whatever he can get his hands on at the time.

Scott wasn't lying. He was good at this part, his pace speeding and slowing at the right times, his wrist flicking when he'd get to the tip. He might not have been as loud as Scott, but the sound of his heavy breathing filled the room. He could feel himself getting close, his body getting warm all over, muscles tensing. His legs clenched together at the last second and then he was coming all over Scott's fingers and his own stomach and then his body went all loose, legs spreading out, arms falling to his side.

Scott's lips were on his seconds later and Isaac smiles into it, feebly trying to lift himself up to he could wrap his arms around Scott.

"I'll be right back," Scott says, pulling away.

He disappears into the bathroom that's attached the room. Isaac just notices it now. In fact, he has no idea what Scott's room looks like until he finally surveys the space. It's a pretty big room, only slightly smaller than his own. The bed's in the middle of the room, beneath the window. There's a computer desk in the corner, and a book shelf filled with trophies and knick nacks instead of books.

A towel hits his chest and he looks up to see Scott standing at the end of the bed, biting his lip. Isaac quickly cleans himself off, and then hands the towel back to Scott, who tosses it into the bathroom with abandon.

"That was-," Scott hesitates and perches on the end of the bed. "That was okay, right?"

Isaac laughs because of the absurdity of Scott actually questioning that, and Scott turns his head to look at him with wounded eyes. "No, Scott, it was- it was good. Great. Definitely great." He assures him.

Scott doesn't look convinced so Isaac moves to the end of the bed to sit beside him, his hand absently trailing up Scott's spine. "It was good." He says. "Better than good." He adds, leaning down to kiss Scott's shoulder.

Scott grins. "Really?"

"No, I'm just humouring you." Isaac says, and Scott laughs before pushing him down against the bed again.

They kiss for a bit longer until Scott pulls back and says, "If we don't stop now I'm not ever letting you leave."

Isaac laughs but then it also sinks in that it's probably pretty late, and he should probably actually leave right then.

Dressing is always more awkward than undressing, but Scott doesn't seem to feel the same way. His eyes watch Isaac's every movement as he pulls on his pants, and then his shirt, and then Scott follows his movements, digging into the closet for another shirt since the one he was wearing was laying somewhere at the bottom of the stairs.

"Next time I get to pick the movie," Isaac says when they head back down the stairs.

"So you want to go out again?" Scott asks.

Isaac feels himself go cold, just a bit. "If you want to." He says, glad that his voice doesn't betray what he's feeling, because it wouldn't be the first time he'd went on a date that ended in a hook up, only to be told that they weren't interested in doing it again. He was good for a one night stand, and then he was just someone whose eyes they would avoid in the hallway at school.

"Definitely." Scott says easily, because he wasn't going through the same internal turmoil as Isaac, apparently. "Of course."

"Definitely." Isaac repeats.

Scott kisses him again when they pull up in front of his house, and this time Isaac is the voice of reason, forcing them to pull apart. "I'll see you tomorrow." Isaac says when he gets out of the car.

"Save me a seat in chemistry!" Scott calls after him.

Isaac is grinning like a fool when he walks into the house, but he really doesn't care. Erica stops him in the hallway to his room.

"It's midnight." She says, like Isaac didn't already know because of the clock in Scott's car. Erica's eyes narrow and then widen. "Oh, my god. You had sex with him."

Isaac let's out a low chuckle a he shoulders past her to his room.

"You called it off, Isaac!" She calls after him. "I'm so not paying for your license!"

"It's not a game anymore, Erica," Isaac says, pausing in his doorway. "My boyfriend is not part of our bets anymore."

He closes his door after that, but not before catching Erica mouthing the word boyfriend, eyes so wide it was a surprise they didn't pop out. He felt pretty satisfied with himself for the umpteenth time that night as he crawled back into bed. He fell asleep almost instantly, mind replaying everything that had happened.

Brown eyes were the last thing he remembered.

Scott.


Thank you for reading! Any reviews would be greatly appreciated! :) -C