Wow! I haven't written anything in the longest time, and this is my first foray into Teen Wolf. So please forgive me, I'm rusty. Anyway, I'm obsessed and I'm obsessed with Isaac. And Allison. And them together. So I needed an outlet or I'd go nuts. Any and all feedback is encouraged and welcome, I'd love to write more. Whether it be of this or just in general. -Air

"What are you doing here?" Allison's voice was weak and shaky, which she hated. Her nerves bundled up and squeezed her insides and knocked her off her internal balance at the sight of him. Isaac. Standing in her room. Soaking wet.

Isaac's eyes swept down. He licked some rain from his lips. When he met her gaze again the blue of his eyes seemed duller, more hollow and lost. "I uh, can I ask you a favor?"

She had no idea what to make of it, and it made her uncomfortable. She crossed her arms, shielding herself and glanced off to the side, finding strength from the color of her bedroom wall. "Sure, yeah. I guess."

"I need somewhere to stay," he said and scratched his wet, moppy hair. "Derek, he uh, he kicked me out." And he gulped hard, looked away.

Neither of them were very fond of eye contact at the moment.

"I don't have anyone…anywhere to go," he continued.

"What about Scott?" she whispered. He made her uneasy. He reminded her of what she had turned into and it scared her to look into the eyes of someone she'd nearly killed, not having bothered to look him in the eyes before.

He attacked her in a closet and she helped him ride a motorcycle earlier that day. That was it.

Why was he here? Why did he sneak into her bedroom window. Why did he come to her? Of all people. Of all places.

"I don't want to be let down again. Run out by someone I…" he trailed off.

Allison suddenly broke out into an incredulous laugh. It was the only thing she could do, facing something so bewildering as Isaac dripping wet ten feet in front of her, telling her he came to her because he didn't care as much about her. She could disappoint him just fine.

But Isaac's jaw tightened and he turned away, ready to head back out into the rain.

Something pulled in her. 'Wait," she called out and he faced her again. "I'll get you a towel."

"Isaac!" she yelled, trying to settle him, trying to reach him. She needed to fend him off, all she could think to do over and over was to call his name and hope he heard.

He wasn't a feral wolf out to maim and kill, under the influence of the full moon, but a scared teenage boy, unable to quell the rising panic that consumed him. Still, her panic grew to meet his and she started to fear for her life.

"Isaac!"

The sound of her voice always brought Scott back to her. But Isaac was wild.

And then the door flew open.

Allison tip toed through the hallway so as not to wake her father, and took great care to shut her door with the softest latch. When she turned around she jumped and dropped the bundle of fabric from her arms.

Isaac was sitting on her bed, his tall frame slumped and his arms wrapped around a shivering body. He startled at her act of clumsiness and she flustered under his gaze. She pulled the items back to her.

When she stood back up, her cheeks felt pink, and his face was awash with a look she'd only seen earlier that day.

"I'm sorry, I didn't - I didn't mean to do that," Isaac said when he saw her thrashed wrist.

Scott wanted to make it a big deal. Isaac wanted to make it a big deal. But all Allison could see was Isaac's face, open and exposed, and she could see him. The disdain he had for her in detention, the blasé demeanor he used to address her had made her prickle with indignation. She had seen him as pompous and impulsive and hotheaded, but never so fragile. Never so human.

"I uh, found some of my dad's sweatpants. I think they should fit," she said and placed them and a neatly folded towel next to him. But he just sat there, shivering, looking down at his feet. "Isaac?" she said, but she imagined her voice trickled out and was lost in some cavernous place within him.

She knelt down before him, tucked her legs under her and battled with herself in awkward silence until she finally leaned in and splayed her palm out across his chest. His white t-shirt was translucent, cold, and clinging to his torso. She could feel his heart racing beneath his sculpted muscles as she urged him with her eyes to look at her.

She'd put her hand over his on the throttle of the motorcycle and when she pulled it back it was hot. They didn't have much time, they had something to do, and yet she couldn't help but feel like an electric current was coursing through her and energizing her.

And then she realized how close she was to him. Face to face. And when she met his eyes she sucked in a breath.

"Try not to crash," she said.

"Yeah, been there. Done that," he countered.

"You're freezing," she said before she peeled his shirt off and discarded it on the floor. Her hand returned to where it rested before and couldn't help but dance along his skin.

"You know," he said. "You're different than I thought you were."

"You're different than I thought you were, too," she said quietly.

Allison didn't know why she felt the need to touch him. But she thought she was drawing him out, healing him somehow, connecting him to her.

His hand snaked around hers and wrapped gently around her bandaged wrist. The two moved in accordance with the rise and fall of his chest.

"Why'd you really come?" she asked breathily and leaned in to place a kiss on his chest. She felt him shudder and tense. What had come over her and compelled her to do that? "You don't like me," she continued and trailed her lips further up. She felt this pull, like magnetism, towards him.

"I don't - I don't know," he managed to strangle out. She kissed his collarbone. "Why are you-"

"I don't know," she said and ended the trail her lips followed at his shoulder. She pulled back.

His eyes searched her in bewilderment, amazement. The air expelled from their lungs hung heavy and hot between them until Isaac moved forward. She felt his lips get closer to hers, so close to the touch that she felt the brush of them before she jerked back.

"Take your pants off," she said and immediately cringed.

"Excuse me?" Isaac said with a wry smile.

"Gahh, I mean. Here," she said and handed him the sweatpants. "You're still soaked."

Isaac took them from her tentatively. She'd broken the mood and now everything was awkward. Every movement she made felt like the wrong one. And he was just staring at her, waiting, waiting for what?

"Oh!" she said. "I'll turn around and um, you can sleep here. On the floor. I'll get you some…stuff." She shuffled over to the other side of her bed and opened her closet, searching for her extra blankets and pillows.

She heard the zipper of his jeans and the shuffle of thick fabric and couldn't help but sweep her head to the side and catch a glimpse of his back. She caught the movement his shoulder blades made, expanding and contracting, as he pulled on the sweatpants before she turned back and continued her search into the depths of her closet.

Ah-ha! She reached out an arm to the top shelf but snapped it back when she felt firm, commanding hands settle on her hips and hot breath at her ear.

"So, how about that apology?" he said. His voice was different. It was back to bravado. That confidence that was so aggravating and so appealing.

He spun her around to face him, his nose inches from hers.

"I don't know," she parried playfully and crinkled her nose. "How does helping you get back at the twins, teaching you how to ride a motorcycle, and taking you in from out in the rain all in one day stack against stabbing you-"

"Stabbing me a lot," he said.

"-with chinese ring daggers?" she finished.

She found her hands had traveled to his biceps and coiled around them. She felt as if he were supporting her entire weight.

He cocked his head to the side in mock consideration before, "Not even close."

"Well, I guess we've reached an impasse then," she said breathily. It was a natural reaction, caused by the science that involved Isaac's very tall frame hovering over her, inches from her, his nose tickled her nose and-

He swept in and caught her lips in an arresting kiss. It was demanding, yet fluid, as the meeting of the air and sea. His lips were listless against hers, but strong and probing. And as she let out a gasp he wandered away to explore the sharp edge of her jawline, to the crevices of her neck and along her collarbone. He had to dip down lower to reach and as he did his slender fingers curled under the hem of her shirt and drew it up and over her head.

His mouth explored down, down, down, towards her breasts until she tugged at his curls and crushed her mouth back against his, missing the heat it had brought her. That same heat she had felt before began to build and clamor within her so that her kiss was more ardent than before.

Her fingers found themselves in the space between his hip bone and the elastic waist of his sweatpants and applied pressure. He took her bottom lip in between his teeth and tugged slightly before letting go.

Allison whimpered. She wanted more. More of him. More of the burning she felt when she touched him. More of this elusive boy who set her on edge all the time.

"Isaac," she managed to mewl out as his hands raked over her body and his mouth suckled on the space where her neck met her collarbone.

She was going to tell him she wanted him. She was going to tell him through the hooded, foggy veil of arousal and electricity that she didn't care about anything except wanting him.

Her hands slipped down further under his sweatpants. "Isaac," she said again.

She heard a guttural rumble come from deep in his chest, and a vibration that chilled her. When Isaac pulled away his eyes were glowing yellow and the points of his teeth had erupted.

Allison gasped and brought a hand to her mouth, but reached that same hand out to grab his shoulder as he turned away from her.

"No," he said and bucked her off. He was heaving, trying to stop the full transformation. His hands fell to her mattress and he hovered there, half bent over.

"Hey," she said warmly and reached for him again but he slapped her away more violently.

"Allison, stop," he growled. "You'll make it worse."

She waited, standing behind him in awkward silence as his breath began to even out, becoming shallower, quieter. She could see his back muscles collapse from the rigidity he'd held them in and he slumped down.

"Derek. He um, never taught you how to control it in these situations I'm guessing," she said with a half smile. "I can teach you," she added sheepishly.

He gave her a contemptuous look, like the one from detention earlier that day. "Thanks, but I'd rather not role-play the tame adventures of Allison and Scott," he said.

Her face fell. "Fine," she said in a clipped voice and pursed her lips together.

A moment later he was being handed a pillow and balled up blanket right to the face.

"I sleep on this side. You can take the other. On the floor," she said before turning the lights out and shoving herself under the covers of her bed in a huff.

I don't know, thoughts? It kind of just swept me along with it.