CHASING PHANTOMS // TEEN WOLF [bxb]

THE RETURN

***

       "Hey Scott, you sure you don't want something like this?" Stiles asked, holding up the booklet of tattoos and turning it to show him an image of a lizard creature that bore a striking resemblance to the kanima. 

       When he looked at Scott's exasperated expression, he craned his neck forward with a "Too soon?" before pursing his lips and nodding, "Yeah," and flipping the page again. 

       "Oh! You should get this one," he suggested, turning the book once more to show him a pair of glowing green eyes.

       "I think you should get that one," Scott snickered, his tone playful and his eyebrow raised suggestively.

       Stiles ignored the implication and the heat he felt creeping up his cheeks, narrowing his whiskey eyes at his best friend and shutting the book, his eyes twitching slightly in apprehension as he spoke. 

       "I don't know man, are you sure about this?" he asked and carried on without pausing, "I mean these things are pretty permanent, you know?" 

       Peering over the tattoo artist's shoulder, he examined Scott's sketch more closely, taking in two thick black bands of different size. 

       He didn't understand it, figuring there should be more meaning than two bands but Scott was dead set on it, so it was what it was. If he regretted it, Stiles would be more than happy to give him shit for the rest of his life.

       "You ain't got any problems with needles, do ya?" the man barely finished the question before Scott's quick and nervous, "Nope!" cut him off as he geared himself up.

       "I tend to get a little squeamish though so," Stiles said, leaning in and moving slightly to see him work as he brought his hand up to nervously drag his fingers over his jaw and throat. 

       He mumbled something incoherent as he saw fully what was being done before his hand dropped, followed soon after by his body that smacked the floor unceremoniously.

       Needless to say, the fact that they ended up back in the jeep two hours later with an ice pack pressed to the back of Stiles' head and Scott's tattoo already healing, really shouldn't have been all that surprising.

***

       "So," Scott started after a few beats of silence as they drove down the road, figuring now was a better time than any. "Are you going to tell him?" he asked, turning his head to look at his best friend.

       "Tell who, what?" Stiles asked with a slight tilt of his head as he kept his eyes on the road, feigning ignorance.

       "You know who and what, Stiles," Scott groaned, unimpressed as he slouched his shoulders.

       "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Stiles said plainly in a tone that suggested he knew exactly what Scott was talking about but was trying to avoid it, only sparing the other teen a quick glance. Frankly, he was a fan of ignoring the problem until it eventually went away.

       "Stiles, you'll never know if you don't tell him, I mean come on, what's the worst that could happen?" Scott urged, trying to reason with him, obviously wanting the best for his best friend.

       "He never speaks to me again," Stiles answered bluntly, his eyes boring into the road in front of him.

       "He's not like that, you know that," Scott sighed, but he understood where Stiles was coming from. "Come on man, he just got back, you should tell him, if not for yourself, then for the rest of us," he said.