notes: I wanted to write a short little something for Stisaac Week so here it is. Unbeta'd because its only like 1k and I'm lazy

"He's your boyfriend, you have to get him something for his birthday."

"We're not boyfriends," Isaac said defiantly, glaring at the shelf of comic books Scott was picking through. He was trying to find a certain issue of something or other -Isaac hadn't been paying attention.

"If you say so," Scott replied. Isaac followed him as they moved over to another shelf. Weren't these things organized at all?

"It's just sex," he said, arms crossed.

"Well you should still get him a birthday present. Even Jackson got him something."

Isaac wrinkled his nose at that. "Then maybe he should sleep with Jackson."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Stop deflecting. He likes Batman and Star Wars. He also needs a new lacrosse stick."

Isaac didn't say anything, just watched as Scott continued his search. He knew he should probably look around the store they were in; it was the perfect place to get Stiles a gift. But he didn't want to get Stiles a gift. They were fuck buddies. You didn't buy things for fuck buddies. Not unless you wanted date them.

And Isaac most certainly didn't want to date Stiles. He was loud and annoying and talked with his mouth full. He wore too much plaid, his attachment to the hunk of metal he called a car was ridiculous, and he hogged all the blankets.

Not to mention the stupid look he got on his face when he fell asleep after a particularly rough round of sex -mouth slack, limbs starfished across the bed, hair sticking in all directions. He ate all of Isaac's favourite cereal. The coffee he made was too strong.

They fought about everything.

Goddammit, Isaac wanted to date him so hard.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, ignoring the knowing look Scott gave him when he turned away from the shelf, the long sought after comic book finally in his hands.

"I guess I could get him something, don't want to be outdone by Jackson or anything," he said finally.

Scott snorted. "Whatever you want to tell yourself dude."

Isaac watched nervously as Stiles ripped the paper off the small box which he's haphazardly wrapped about an hour before. It was a small party but the whole pack was there, eating cake and watching as Stiles tore through all his presents, grinning like a loon at every new thing.

He finally made his way through the paper and Isaac clenched the arm of the chair he was sitting in, digging blunt fingernails into the floral fabric. Stiles threw the lid off the box and stared down into the box, his face going from confused to delighted to scowling in under two seconds.

"Isaac you asshole, what the fuck am I supposed to do with a scarf? It's 75 degrees outside!"

"It's plaid!" Isaac argued, trying to fight back a grin and return the scowl he was getting from the honey-eyed boy across the room from him.

"What kind of hipster coffee house douchebag do you think I am?"

Isaac rolled his eyes. "An ungrateful one apparently."

He wasn't particularly surprised when he got a face full of scarf. He plucked it off and tossed it back, but Stiles wasn't paying attention, even as it landed in a mess over one of his shoulders. He was looking down at the card which had been tucked under the scarf, his brow furrowed as he read. Isaac watched, heart racing as Stiles pulled out the movie tickets (some new superhero flick Scott had promised he'd love) which had been with the card, staring at them for a second before glancing up at him.

"Are you asking me… on a date?" he asked, eyes wide as realization dawned on him.

Isaac felt his stomach drop and he shifted uncomfortably in the chair. He should have just stuck with the scarf. At least then he could play it off as casual. The card had been a bad idea. The tickets had been a worse idea. Stiles was going to laugh at him. Everyone was going to laugh at him. They were all watching them with curious looks, quiet while this catastrophe played out. He wanted to sink into the floor. Why had he gone and fucked up a perfectly good thing?

"Oh my god, you are!" Stiles cried and before Isaac knew what had happened the other boy had launched himself across the room. He hit Isaac with enough force to move the entire armchair back a few inches, the scarf still draped over one shoulder as he crashed his lips against Isaac's.

The kiss was forceful and there was too much teeth involved but it didn't matter. Stiles hadn't laughed at him, hadn't rejected him. Isaac wrapped him up in a hug, pressing back against him. He could hear their friends around them making a variation of gagging noises, although he was pretty sure Allison was cooing.

"I don't need to be seeing this," the Sheriff said in that exasperated tone that seemed to be reserved for his only son.

"Get a room!" Erica cried, chucking a pillow at them.

Stiles pulled away and grinned down at him. "Oh we will," he said to Erica, his eyes never leaving Isaac's. "But first we have a date."

"You're not wearing your scarf," Isaac said when Stiles opened the door.

"It's too warm for a scarf moron," he said, pulling his shoes on while Isaac lingered in the doorway. They were going on their third date and Melissa had even let him borrow the car.

"I had plans for the scarf asswipe," Isaac retorted, yanking Stiles close once he'd finished lacing up his sneakers and pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Someone's awful confident about the outcome of this date," Stiles said. Isaac nipped at his ear and grinned at the little moan it pulled from him. It was so easy to undo him.

"Are you telling me you don't want to be blindfolded while I fuck you senseless?"

Stiles let out a low hiss, fingers digging into his arms.

"I'll get the scarf."