Best Friend's Brother // Stiles x Male OC

21

Weeks drifted by like a slow-moving storm cloud, leaving tension hanging thick in the air. Stiles had tried everything to get through to Scott—texts, calls, waiting outside his house, even roping Allison into helping—but nothing worked. Scott was resolute in his silence, each attempt at reconciliation met with indifference or outright avoidance.

At school, Scott stuck to Allison like glue, making it clear he wanted no part in any conversation with Stiles. It was like a wall had been built between them, and every day Stiles felt the absence of his best friend more acutely.

Mateo noticed it too. At home, Scott barely spoke unless it was necessary. His usual easygoing demeanor had been replaced by a simmering frustration that colored every interaction. Mateo had tried to bridge the gap, offering small nudges and reminders that Stiles was still there, still hurting, but Scott refused to budge.

One evening, Mateo came home to find Stiles sitting on the hood of his Jeep, parked in front of the coffee shop. His arms were crossed, and his head hung low, as if the weight of the world were pressing down on him. Mateo pulled his car into the driveway and approached cautiously.

"Hey," Mateo called softly.

Stiles looked up, his eyes tired and glassy. "Hey," he replied, his voice small.

Mateo leaned against the Jeep beside him. "Still no luck?"

Stiles shook his head. "He won't even look at me. It's like I don't exist."

Mateo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He's stubborn, that's for sure."

"Stubborn doesn't even cover it," Stiles said bitterly. "I've apologized, I've explained, I've begged. What else can I do?"

Mateo was quiet for a moment, watching the cars pass by on the street. "It's not about what you're doing wrong, Stiles. Scott's just... stuck. He's hurt, and he doesn't know how to get past it."

"And what about me?" Stiles asked, his voice breaking. "I'm hurt too. I lost my best friend over this, Mateo. I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Mateo reached out, placing a comforting hand on Stiles' shoulder. "I know. And I hate that this is happening. You and Scott—you're both miserable, and for what? Because he won't let go of his pride?"

Stiles let out a shaky breath, wiping at his eyes. "Do you think he'll ever forgive me?"

Mateo hesitated before answering. "I don't know, Stiles. I hope so. But I do know that he cares about you, even if he's too angry to show it right now."

They sat in silence for a while, the cool evening air wrapping around them like a blanket. Mateo wanted to say more, to promise that things would get better, but he knew better than to make promises he couldn't keep.

At home, Scott sat in his room, headphones on, pretending not to notice when Mateo walked past his door. He didn't need to see the look on his brother's face to know where he'd been or who he'd been talking to. The mere thought made Scott's chest tighten with anger and guilt—a potent mix he didn't know how to deal with.

Mateo knocked once, then let himself in. Scott glanced up from his phone, already bracing for whatever lecture was about to come.

"You know, Stiles was outside just now," Mateo began, closing the door behind him.

Scott rolled his eyes. "Of course he was."

"He misses you, Scott. A lot. And I know you miss him too."

Scott's jaw clenched. "This again?"

"Yes, this again," Mateo shot back. "Because it's not going away. You can keep pretending you don't care, but I see it every day. You're not just mad at me, Scott—you're hurting yourself, and Stiles, for no reason."