The big news in the Beacon Hills High School hallways is that Jackson and Lydia are apparently on again. This is the fifth break up and make up so far this year, and it’s only November. Stiles is tired of hearing the two girls who sit next to him in English talk about the power couple like they’re royalty, going on and on about watching them have an intimate conversation during lunch with hand holding and face touching. Right now, the last thing he wants to think about is Jackson Whittemore. The ringing bell saves him, and he leaves before he snaps at Daphne and Lisa about their inane babbling.
English is his last class for the day this year, so he drops his books off at his locker and grabs the stuff he needs for homework tonight. Since the fastest route to the parking lot requires him to walk past Jackson’s locker, Stiles turns and goes the opposite way even though it takes longer. Avoidance is totally acceptable sometimes, and this happens to be one of those times. Fortunately, Scott’s going to Allison’s after school to ‘study’, so Stiles doesn’t have to wait around before he can get out of this place. It’s a relief that he only has six more months of high school hell left. Then he can think about his future, going to the academy and becoming a deputy and not having to deal with any rigid classroom rules ever again.
Senior year is just so fucking dull. The whole werewolf thing has made things pretty exciting since sophomore year, but everything seems to have calmed down a lot the last couple of months. There hasn’t been a need for pack meetings or research, so Stiles has had too much time on his hands. They still have pack meetings, but it’s more like bonding experiences than life or death situations. Even with those occasional meetings, he’s still alone a lot. He wants to blame his boredom for everything that’s happened between him and Jackson, and it would be a good excuse if things hadn’t originally started the summer before junior year when there had been another off-again time with Lydia.
It’s been easy to keep it a secret because Stiles is ashamed of how pathetic he is, always giving in and letting Jackson sniff back around whenever he and Lydia are broken up. While Stiles is pretty sure Scott knows, his best friend is too good a guy to call him out on it. But Stiles knows it’s wrong to always give in and let Jackson use him when he knows it’s never going to last. He keeps it a secret because Jackson insists, but he doesn’t fight it because of the whole pathetic cycle he’s fallen into emotionally and sexually where Jackson is concerned. It’s the standard reasons for keeping it secret. Jackson’s parents wouldn’t understand him being bisexual, and he’d lose his status at school if people knew he’d been slumming it with Stiles, his exact words two weeks ago when they had the worst fight of their pseudo relationship.
Stiles hasn’t spoken to him since, and he’s ignored him completely whenever their paths have crossed, which hasn’t been often because Stiles just goes to the library or his Jeep during lunch time now, and he’s doing the whole avoidance thing the rest of the time.
It really isn’t a big surprise that Jackson has gone back to Lydia again. Their relationship is twisted and unhealthy in a lot of ways, but it’s comfortable and familiar, so they always end up back together. It’s so expected that it doesn’t even hurt that much whenever Stiles has to see them reigning as the It Couple every time Jackson breaks things off with him in order to get back with her because of his parents, his reputation, his perfect little life that doesn’t have a place for Stiles in it except when he’s single and horny.
It’s always been about the sex for Jackson, the passion fueled hate sex that caught them both by surprise that’s gradually become less about hate over the months. As for Stiles, it started off as sex, he’s a teenager who is perpetually horny and Jackson might be an asshole, but he’s a pretty asshole. And he actually isn’t that bad when he’s just being himself and showing a vulnerable side that Stiles knows he rarely displays to anyone else. They’ll start fucking, it will get semi-serious seeming, then Jackson will push him away with insults and reminders about what it really is between them before going back to Lydia.
And Stiles will vow to be stronger, will promise himself he won’t give in next time, will swear up and down that he can resist Jackson the next time. Only he never does because he let feelings get involved somewhere along the way. This time, though, it’s different. Jackson lashed out in a way he hasn’t since the first time, using his words like scalpels as he cut through Stiles until he’s been left bleeding and aching in a way that he never has before. Stiles is beneath him, he’s slumming it even being with him, he’s lucky that his mouth and ass are so good because otherwise Jackson wouldn’t bother with him. There were other things said, hurtful rude things that had made Stiles close off instead of responding in kind.
Stiles is the one who walked away, though. He had listened and he hadn’t said a word in response, which is so unlike him it’s ridiculous, but what’s he supposed to say to all that? Nothing. He’d just gotten dressed quietly before leaving Jackson’s room. Sometimes, he wonders if he might feel better if he had lashed out and insulted Jackson, but he couldn’t do it. Jackson is nothing but an insecure little boy posturing around trying to make everyone else happy by living up to this ideal that he doesn’t want, and Stiles feels sorry for him. He couldn’t lash out with insults that he knows Jackson would take to heart because, well, Stiles is a better person than that.
Or he tries to be now that he’s seventeen and almost an adult.
By the time he gets to the parking lot, most of the cars are gone. The long way might avoid Jackson’s locker, but it also takes more time since it goes around the back of the school. Stiles stops walking in the middle of the parking lot when he sees Jackson’s car parked beside Roscoe. Jackson is leaning against the hood of the Porsche, sunglasses on, looking like he stepped out of GQ instead of high school. Stiles notices him tense slightly when he must catch a whiff of Stiles’ scent or maybe even sees him.
After taking a moment to get his nerves under control, Stiles walks to his Jeep and deliberately ignores Jackson. He focuses on getting into Roscoe and getting out of there before Jackson can start whatever drama he must be planning. Besides, Jackson hates being ignored. Okay, so it’s petty, but Stiles is still bitter and maybe just a little bit, ever so slightly, would totally deny it if ever asked, heartbroken. He doesn’t make it to the driver’s side door to escape, though.
“You’re avoiding me, Stilinski.”
“No, really?” Stiles deadpans, cutting his eyes over to where Jackson’s now standing by the back of his Jeep. “Just leave me alone.”
“Let me consider that.” Jackson smirks. “No, I don’t think I can do that.”
“I’m not doing this, Whittemore.” Stiles sneers at him, letting his lip curl as he glares. “Anyway, isn’t Lydia expecting you? Run along to your girlfriend.”
“We broke up again, so, no, I don’t think I’m high on the list of people she wants to see right now.” Jackson takes a step closer to him.
“Of course.” Stiles’ laugh is slightly hysterical. “That’s why you’ve come around then. Time to slum it again by giving me a pity fuck, huh? Well, you need to find someone else to use, maybe someone you don’t hate. I’m done with you.”
Jackson moves quickly, pushing Stiles against the side of Roscoe. Stiles drops his books as he tries to push Jackson away. “I wish I could hate you,” he says hoarsely, their faces so close he can feel Jackson’s warm breath puffing against his mouth. “I’m not slumming it or using you.”
“That’s not what you were saying a couple of weeks ago,” Stiles reminds him, getting a good punch in against Jackson’s ribs. “Let me go, asshole. I’m not your toy, even if you seem to think I am.”
“I said a lot of things I didn’t mean.” Jackson suddenly lets him go, taking a step back and running his fingers through his hair. “I’m emotionally constipated, remember? That’s what you called me after the second time we started fucking around. Lydia just said I need to get my head out of my ass and stop looking like a kicked puppy every time you walk past me without looking at me. Big surprise, huh? You’re the reason we broke up, Stiles.”
“Oh no. You can’t blame me for your constant relationship issues,” Stiles says, shaking his head. “You and Lydia are always on and off these days. Have been for a couple of years now. Not having a stable happy relationship is something you obviously enjoy since you constantly repeat the cycle, and I have nothing to do with it at all.”
“You have everything to do with it, you asshole.” Jackson scowls at him. “I had everything in my life planned out precisely, and you came along and fucked it all up. Lydia’s known about us from the beginning, and she doesn’t care because she’s not in love with me any more than I’m in love with her. We have an image to uphold, and we’re best friends, so we play our parts until the acting starts frustrating us, and we break it off so we can try finding something real. I found something real, though, and it scared me to death, so I never told her. She figured it out this time because you weren’t snarking back at me and you weren’t riling me up like usual, and I didn’t know how to handle that.”
“Lydia knows?” Stiles punches Jackson’s shoulder hard. “You didn’t think maybe I should be aware of that? I haven’t even told Scott! Mostly because he’d be worried about me letting you use me constantly, but also because you insisted we keep it a secret. We couldn’t dare risk your reputation by anyone finding out you like sucking my dick and getting fucked into the mattress while begging for more. You know what, Jackson? I don’t care anymore. I’m done being your dirty little secret because I deserve to be with someone who is proud to be seen with me. Someone who will hold my hand in the hallways or steal kisses at lunch without caring what anyone thinks or says.”
“I can’t,” Jackson whispers. “My parents wouldn’t understand, and I can’t be a disappointment to them again. I’ve already done so much wrong in their eyes. I know you deserve more than I can give you, but I’m a selfish bastard. I want you, Stiles. I need you in my life. The last couple of weeks have been horrible without you being around.”
“It isn’t always about what you want,” Stiles whispers as he stares into Jackson’s pretty blue eyes. “I know you think it is, because I’ve never put my own needs first, but I can’t keep doing this with you, Jax. I won’t.”
Jackson steps forward and kisses him, cradling Stiles’ face in his hands as he presses their lips together desperately. Stiles parts his lips, licking into Jackson’s mouth as he moves his fingers into his hair. The kiss deepens, both of them channeling their emotions into it in a way they never have before. When they pull apart, Jackson’s eyes are shiny. “What if I try? Would you let me try? I don’t know if I can do it, but I’m willing to try if it means I can keep you. Please, Stiles. I need you around to call me on my bullshit and to just…” He trails off and just blinks at Stiles, like he can somehow read his mind.
“I don’t know,” Stiles says softly. “I don’t know if I can handle being blamed whenever something doesn’t go your way or knowing that what we have could be gone in the snap of your fingers if your parents pressure you or you lose your popularity because of it. I’m not Lydia. On again and off again isn’t something I can continue doing. It makes me feel bad about myself, and I don’t like how that feels.”
“You lash out, too, Stiles. You’ve said some hurtful things, so it goes both ways,” Jackson points out, stroking his thumb along Stiles’ jawline. “Just give me the opportunity to try, and I’ll be strong enough to deal with my parents. I don’t care about the people at this school and what they think anyway. We’ll be graduating in a few months, and high school will become a distant memory.”
“That’s easy to say right now, but what about Monday if we sit next to each other at lunch and kissed? The whispers about whether you take it up the ass or are just using me because Lydia doesn’t want you anymore? The way they’ll look at you differently when they find out you’re bi? I mean, it won’t matter to me, because they already think I’m a loser who’s lucky enough to ride on Scott’s popularity to the cool table, but you’re used to being their king.” Stiles licks his lips. “You think you’ll be strong enough, but it’s going to be difficult. Is it really worth it?”
“You’re worth it,” Jackson says simply. “I want to at least try so I won’t always have regrets about being too much of a coward to go after what---who---will make me happy.”
Stiles wants to believe him, but he can’t help thinking it’s easy to talk. Jackson is good at talking, too, being cocky and confident in a way that just hides his insecurities and fears. Actions speak louder than words is a cliché because it’s true. Stiles just doesn’t know if he’s willing to give Jackson the chance at proving it or not. “I need to think about it,” he finally decides. “You might not have meant everything you said during our last fight, but it still hurt me, and I refuse to make a decision like this without taking time to think.”
“How long?” Jackson asks quietly. “Can I at least talk to you while you’re thinking? I miss you, Stiles.”
“You can text me.” Stiles bites his bottom lip. “I’ll let you know soon, okay? And, Jackson?”
“Okay. Texting is better than nothing.” Jackson arches a brow. “Yeah?”
“I wish I could hate you, too,” Stiles admits softly. “I need to go. My dad’s going to be home soon, and we’re doing dinner together tonight.”
Jackson leans in and presses their lips together lightly. “Thank you, for thinking about it,” he whispers before he bends down and picks up Stiles’ book and folder that he dropped. “I’ll text you soon.”
Stiles nods. “Alright.” He gets into Roscoe and takes a moment to gather his thoughts before he pulls out of the parking lot. He has a lot to think about, but it can wait for later, when he isn’t driving and can make some lists.
He’s almost home when his phone buzzes. He checks it when he stops at a stop sign and sees it’s from Jackson. Huffing a laugh, he keeps driving home. Maybe it’s worth the risk of getting hurt again because there’s always a possibility that things might work out. And, as stupid as it sounds, Stiles really does like Jackson, even if he’s an emotionally stunted asshole. Besides, it’s not like he’s perfect, either. He really should think about it and give it the proper amount of attention before making a decision, but the heart wants what the heart wants.
When he pulls into his driveway, he replies to Jackson’s text before he can change his mind. If you’re serious about this, about being with me, you can sit beside me at lunch tomorrow, and we’ll give this public relationship thing a try.