Best Friend's Brother // Stiles x Male OC

19

It was around 1 a.m. when my phone buzzed on the nightstand. The light from the screen cut through the darkness of my room, and I squinted at the text. It was from Matt.

"I talked to Scott," it read. "I tried to explain everything. I don't know how he's feeling or what he's thinking, but I tried to convince him to talk to you."

I stared at the message, my heart tightening. I wanted to feel relieved, but instead, I just felt a knot of uncertainty. What if Scott wasn't ready to talk? What if he never was?

"Thank you," I texted back, my fingers trembling slightly as I typed.

A minute later, my phone buzzed again.

"Can I come over?"

I blinked at the message, my chest tightening again. My eyes darted to the clock—it was way too late for visitors. But it was Matt, and the thought of seeing him after all the silence and distance made my heart race.

"Right now?" I texted back, hesitating.

"Yes," came his immediate reply.

I stared at the screen for what felt like forever, my mind racing. I shouldn't. It was late, and my dad would flip if he found out. But the part of me that missed Matt—desperately—won out.

"Sure," I typed after a long pause.

A few minutes later, I heard the soft hum of his car pulling up outside. My stomach flipped as I padded downstairs to unlock the door. Matt stood on the porch, hands in his pockets, looking hesitant and almost shy.

"Hey," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey," I replied, stepping aside to let him in.

We didn't say much as we climbed the stairs to my room. The air between us was thick with awkward tension, the kind that made every step feel heavier than it should. Once inside, I shut the door, and we both sat on the edge of my bed, leaving a noticeable gap between us.

The silence stretched on, uncomfortable and oppressive, until Matt finally broke it.

"I miss you," he said softly, his voice cracking just enough to make my chest ache.

I turned to him, meeting his gaze. His brown eyes were filled with something raw and vulnerable, something I hadn't seen before.

"I miss you too," I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

He exhaled slowly, like he'd been holding his breath, and moved a little closer. "I really like you, Stiles. I can't stay away anymore."

My heart clenched, and for a moment, I couldn't speak. He'd said it so plainly, so honestly, that it knocked the air out of me.

"I—" I started, but my voice wavered. "I like you too, Matt. But this... everything with Scott... it's so complicated."

"I know," he said, his tone soft but firm. "But I'll do whatever it takes to make it work. I'll talk to Scott again. I'll keep trying. I just... I can't pretend I don't care about you."

I swallowed hard, my chest tight as his words sank in. Slowly, I nodded. "Okay," I said quietly. "Let's... let's figure it out. Together."

Matt smiled—a small, tentative smile that made my heart skip. He leaned in, his hand brushing against mine. I hesitated for only a second before closing the distance between us.

The kiss was soft at first, almost cautious, but it quickly deepened, all the pent-up emotions we'd been holding back pouring out. When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless, and the tension in the room had shifted into something warmer, something more familiar.

Matt stayed the night. We didn't talk much after that—we didn't need to. He stretched out beside me on the bed, his arm draped over me as I nestled against his chest. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt at peace.

—————————————————————————

I woke up to the soft, warm press of lips against mine. My eyes fluttered open to see Matt hovering above me, his hair slightly messy and his face lit with that easy smile I loved.

"Good morning," he murmured, his voice low and warm.

I couldn't help but smile back. "Morning."

He kissed me again, softer this time, and I sighed into it, feeling a little of the tension I'd been carrying melt away.

"You sleep okay?" he asked, settling back on the bed beside me, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face.

"Yeah," I said. "First good sleep I've had in a while."

"Good." He grinned. "Now, here's the plan. Today, we're not thinking about Scott. Not even once. It's just us, doing whatever we want, having fun."

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Not even once?"

"Not even once," he said firmly. "You deserve a break from all the drama, Stiles. So, what do you say?"

I hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay. Just us."

We made our way downstairs, where Dad was already at the kitchen table with his coffee and a crossword puzzle. He looked up when we entered, his eyebrows lifting at the sight of Matt but saying nothing.

"Morning, Dad," I said, grabbing a box of cereal.

"Morning," he replied, his tone casual but his eyes sharp as he glanced between me and Matt. "You boys want some eggs?"

"Sure," Matt said, flashing him a polite smile.

Breakfast was... surprisingly normal. Dad asked Matt a few casual questions about work and school, and Matt answered them like a pro, completely unfazed. I mostly stayed quiet, half-expecting Dad to say something embarrassing about me but he didn't.

After breakfast, Matt turned to me, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Ready to go?"

"Where are we going?" I asked as we headed out the door.

"You'll see," he said with a wink.

We spent the day at the mall, wandering in and out of stores, laughing at stupid things, and stealing kisses when no one was looking. We hit up the comic book store, where Matt pretended to judge me for my taste in superheroes but still bought me a new issue of my favorite series.

At the movies, we shared a giant bucket of popcorn, and Matt kept leaning over to whisper sarcastic commentary in my ear, making me laugh so hard I almost choked.

It was perfect—just us, no pressure, no drama. For a few hours, it felt like everything was okay.

But as the day wound down, that familiar guilt started creeping back in. As much as I tried to push it down, I couldn't stop thinking about Scott—about how angry he was, about how I'd hurt him.

When Matt dropped me off at home that evening, he noticed the change in my mood immediately.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing his fingers against mine.

"Yeah," I lied, forcing a smile. "I just... it's been a long day."

He didn't press, but the way he looked at me told me he wasn't buying it.

I climbed into bed that night, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the day in my mind. It had been good—great, even—but the weight of everything with Scott was still there, heavy and unshakable.