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Stiles wasn’t sure what exactly made him stop walking on his way back to campus. Curiosity, maybe. He’d seen a lot of strange things in Sacramento since he had moved there for college— a girl playing the flute in her car while stopped at a light and some dude dancing downtown in nothing but underwear and a cowboy hat, to name a couple— so the hastily written sidewalk sign advertising a “social experiment” for a community college’s Psychology class wasn’t particularly noteworthy. The sign leaned haphazardly against a brick wall, just outside what used to be a popular theatre before the recession shut it down.
“We want to know what happens if you ask twenty strangers to kiss for the first time,” the sign proclaimed in bold red lettering. “Step inside to learn how to get involved!”
He couldn’t help it. His interest was immediately piqued. What’s the harm? he told himself as he pushed open the large, faded double doors and entered the theatre’s surprisingly clean lobby. If anything, it’ll make a good story to tell Scott later.
“Hi there!”
He was greeted by a perky girl with bright pink streaks in her short blonde hair. She stood up from behind the ticket counter and crossed over to him.
“Uh, hi,” he replied, running his hand through his hair. With a sudden trepidation he noticed that the girl was very pretty. The observation made him absurdly nervous, and he immediately regretted entering the building. “You know what, I think I came to the wrong place, so I am just going to . . . go. Sorry for bothering you.” He took a few steps backwards, but the girl stepped forward with him, matching him step for step.
“Did you read the sign outside?”
She was looking at him like she knew the answer, but he lied anyway. “Sign? No, I didn’t see any sign. I was looking for a theater, but—” He waved his hand at the chains crossed over the gilded golden doors that presumably led to the auditorium— “this one is clearly out of business. My bad.”
The girl’s eyes were disconcertingly large under her raised eyebrows. “Aren’t you from here?”
“No,” Stiles began to say, realizing belatedly that he was wearing his Sacramento State sweatshirt. “By which I mean, yes, I am technically from here, in a manner of speaking, but—”
“Listen, do you have a minute?” the girl asked, cutting him off abruptly. “We’re filming this thing for my Psychology class but we’re having trouble finding volunteers.” She stuck out her hand as an afterthought. “I’m Caitlin, by the way.”
“Stiles,” he said, shaking her hand automatically. “It might be easier to find volunteers if you set up your kissing booth somewhere less shady. This place screams ‘We’re going to knock you out and steal your wallet.’”
Caitlin was smirking. “Thought you didn’t read the sign?”
“So I may have skimmed it.”
“The question, then, is if you’re up for a kiss.”
He swallowed. “With you?” He maybe asked it too quickly, because Caitlin laughed at him.
“No, not with me.” She tilted her head, looking him up and down in appraisal. “Tell me, Stiles— Have you ever kissed a boy?”
Stiles told himself that Caitlin was just very persuasive, and that’s why he hadn’t run right out of the building.
Instead, he was shifting on the balls of his feet in an area backstage that had been set up like a photo shoot— albeit, a very amateur photo shoot. There was a thick black sheet hanging as a backdrop behind him. Caitlin was off to the side speaking animatedly to a guy who looked like he was barely listening as he adjusted a large video camera on its tripod. Next to the pair was a guy on a stool who was wearing over-sized headphones and attempting to balance his laptop and a jumble of cords protruding from it on his knees. Stiles wasn’t exactly sure what he had gotten himself into, or why he wasn’t gathering his backpack and his sweater— which Caitlin had allowed him to take off for purposes of anonymity— and hightailing it out of there.
Maybe he should leave.
But it sounds like they really need my help, he reasoned. Caitlin had told him that they were trying to get a diverse “cast” of different races, sexual orientations, and ages. Apparently the last pair they needed was two guys, and they had already gotten one guy— incidentally also from Sac State— to agree about a half-hour before Stiles had arrived and they didn’t want to have to make him wait any longer.
It’s just a kiss, anyway, he told himself. Just a kiss for a project. It doesn’t have to mean anything.
Because he liked girls, as he had assured Caitlin when she had asked him ten minutes before. He had been in love with Lydia since they were kids, and he probably still would be if she hadn’t gone out of state for college. Sure, he had a healthy appreciation for guys. And maybe he’d had a few errant daydreams about some particularly chiseled celebrities. And yeah, he would be lying if he said that he had never wondered what it would be like to kiss, say, Danny. It was perfectly natural to wonder, wasn’t it? To want to know what it would feel like?
That was why he was still there. That’s all. He was just satisfying his curiosity.
So why did he feel so nervous?
“Stiles!” Caitlin said from right behind him, and he wheeled around. “Are you ready?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah,” he repeated, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. “Who’s my guy? Or, you know, not my guy. But. The guy I’m being paired with.”
“His name is— oh, here he is now!” Caitlin smiled over his shoulder, and with an irritating baby-bird flutter in his stomach, Stiles turned around.
The universe was playing some sort of joke on him. That was the only explanation. Or maybe he had fallen asleep somewhere between walking home after work and arriving back at the dorms. Any second, he was going to wake up and realize that he should probably stop eating so much before he took naps, because his dreams were getting way too weird.
Because it was Scott standing before him, with an equally surprised look on his face.
Scott, his best friend and roommate, who was supposed to be driving back to Beacon Hills at that very moment to visit his mom for the weekend. Scott Mccall.
“Dude?” Scott was just staring at him; whether his eyes were showing confusion or concern, Stiles couldn’t say.
Caitlin looked between them, her brow furrowed. “Wait, do you two know each other?” She groaned. “Because that would ruin—”
Stiles opened his mouth to answer her, but Scott beat him to the punch.
“No, we’ve never— we don’t know each other,” Scott said, the corners of his mouth twitching upward into a smile like it always did when he lied. “Never seen him before.”
Stiles shot him a look but Scott was studiously ignoring him. What was he doing? Had he wandered in here looking for food or something? Did he realize what was happening here? Why had he lied?
“Stiles, you okay?”
Stiles forced his gaze away from Scott. Caitlin was staring at him. He had no idea what his face was doing. He had no idea what his heart was doing. Trying to jump out of his chest, from the feel of it. “I— sorry, what?”
“Are you still up for this?”
Stiles thought about it. Was he? Was he up for kissing his best friend and possibly making everything super weird between them for the rest of forever? He looked at Scott— open, guileless Scott. He searched his expression for any hint that this was a terrible idea, that they should both leave and pretend none of this had ever happened. But Scott just gave him a soft, encouraging smile.
Stiles swallowed his reservations. “Yeah.”
“Great!” Caitlin clapped her hands together and turned to her crew, giving them instructions about lighting and sound that flew over Stiles’ head.
He grabbed Scott’s arm as soon as Caitlin looked away. “What are you doing here?” he whispered frantically, keeping an eye on Caitlin to make sure she didn’t notice them talking. “Why aren’t you in Beacon Hills?”
Scott shrugged. “Caitlin flagged me down outside when I was walking back to campus. She said she really needed help, so I figured I might as well do what I could.”
“Of course you did,” Stiles muttered. It was such a Scott thing to do. “Is this weird, though?”
“Well, yeah. What kind of professor makes students film people kissing for a grade?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Stiles cleared his throat, wishing he could feel less awkward about this. Or just disappear. Disappearing would be nice. Maybe he could talk to Deaton about a spell or something. “You and me. Kissing?”
Scott shook his head. “No, dude, it’s like… We’ve known each other for, what, fifteen years? You’re my best friend. I’d rather kiss my best friend than some stranger.”
“You don’t have to kiss anybody,” Stiles pointed out.
“No, I want to,” Scott said earnestly. He peered at Stiles. “Do you… not want to kiss me?” he asked, uncertainty flicking across his features.
Stiles’ mouth was uncomfortably dry. “I—”
“Okay, boys!” Caitlin put her hands on Stiles’ shoulders and showed him where to stand before the camera. She fitted him with a tiny microphone under his collar, then moved to attach Scott’s.
Stiles was very conscious of Scott’s presence on his left. He felt very twitchy, but Scott was just standing there calmly, his hands in his pockets. How could he be so calm? Stiles felt more nervous than he had facing the kanima.
“So we’re just going to start filming,” Caitlin said. She pointed at her cameraman, who dutifully turned the camera on them. “You two can just start whenever you’re ready!” She skipped out of frame and sat on a tiny stool facing them. Stiles wondered again if this entire scene wasn’t just the product of his overtired mind.
“Ready?” Scott asked cheerfully.
Stiles shook his head. “Not exactly.” He looked past the camera at Caitlin. “Can I get a moment?”
“We’re going to keep the camera running. To get those really human bits, you know,” she said, waving a hand around. “But take all the time you need!”
“You okay?” Scott asked, his head tilted slightly as he watched Stiles with concern.
Stiles swallowed hard. “How are you so okay? Aren’t you nervous?”
Scott looked down, like he was really thinking about it, then met Stiles’ eyes. “I guess not. It feels easy.”
Stiles huffed a laugh. “Easy for you, maybe.”
“Have you ever kissed a guy before?”
Stiles almost said, Obviously not, I would have told you, before he remembered that Caitlin didn’t know they knew each other. “Nope,” he said instead, his lips popping out the p. “Have you?”
“No,” Scott said. Then: “But I’ve always kind of wondered what it would feel like,” with the same nonchalance he used to discuss homework or what he wanted to order for dinner. “What about you?”
“Yeah,” Stiles said, so quickly his voice cracked slightly. “I guess I’ve thought about it a bit.” Admitting it to himself was a new thing. Saying it out loud made it even more real. The fluttering bird in his stomach had become a full-fledged pterodactyl.
“Cool,” Scott said brightly, cocking an eyebrow and taking a step forward. “Then let’s do this!” He lifted a hand and cupped it around Stiles’ cheek, his fingers curling slightly in the soft hair just behind Stiles’ ear.
Stiles’ breath hitched at the contact, but rather than moving away he found himself stepping forward, tilting his head down and further into the touch. It was amazing how simple everything was with Scott, how easily Stiles found himself falling into the moment like he was born to have Scott’s warm hand pressed against his cheek.
“I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s okay,” Scott murmured, his dark eyes just inches away as they searched Stiles’ own.
Stiles barely had the chance to nod and say a breathy “yeah” before Scott had closed the distance between them.
He stood stock-still for a couple of seconds after Scott’s lips connected with his, letting waves of sensation rush over and through him. Everything about Scott was warm. Maybe that was a werewolf thing, but maybe it was just something inherently Scott— blinding smiles, huge dimples, and warmth. Stiles lifted his hand and grabbed a handful of Scott’s jacket, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Every point of contact between them was lighting his skin on fire. His lips were tingling, and with a jolt of euphoria Stiles realized that he was more than a little bit in love with his best friend.
Scott pulled away far too soon, but he didn’t remove his hand from Stiles’ cheek. He leaned in and gently knocked their foreheads together, his eyes sparkling with the same mirth that was coloring his cheeks. “So?”
“So,” Stiles said significantly, his voice slightly hoarse. “That just happened.”
“Yeah,” Scott agreed, his eyes twinkling, and they both laughed and pulled away to face Caitlin.
“Was that okay?” Stiles asked her. A part of him was hoping she would say no and that they would have to kiss again, but Caitlin was bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.
“That was awesome!” she practically squealed. “Thank you guys so much, you’ve been such a big help!”
“Our pleasure.” Scott gave her a warm smile, then raised his eyebrows at Stiles.
“Oh, uh, yeah!” Stiles said, catching on. “But I’m running late, so…”
“Of course, of course, you guys are free to go,” Caitlin said, waving them out. “Thanks so much again!”
Scott led the way out, leaving Stiles to follow behind staring at his back. The breeze outside was uncomfortably cool on his flushed cheeks.
Was he supposed to say something? What could he say? Did Scott think this was awkward, or was this all in his head?
“Yo, Scotty…” Stiles called once they were outside.
Scott turned to face him. “Yeah?”
“I was just wondering if— Should we maybe talk about this?”
Scott blinked. “Did you like kissing me?”
Stiles tried to swallow but his throat was too dry. “I— yes. Very much,” he said quietly.
“Cool. I like kissing you, too.” Scott nodded decisively. “Dude, do you want to grab something to eat? I’m starving.”
Stiles still had a hundred questions and uncertainties flying around his head, but any reservations disappeared as soon as Scott smiled at him. He reached out for Stiles’ hand, curling their fingers together like it was habit. They fell into step together, Scott chattering about some new Mexican place that had opened up a couple blocks away. Stiles looked down at the way his fingers looked between Scott’s, wondering how something so easy could feel so perfect, and he smiled to himself.