LOST SOULS!
CHAPTER TWELVE.
stupid promises.

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WARNING: use of weed, but not by a person underage, and swearing. once again, be responsible, kiddos.

WHEN ADRIAN MARTIN CAME TO ONCE MORE, HIS BODY FELT STIFF AND - MORE SPECIFICALLY - WET. Fearing it was a substance Adrian did not want on him, he awoke with a swift start that made his head thump and immediately sat up with his head just narrowly missing the toilet seat as he did so.

Frank Dolorem was laughing his ass off at his son when he saw the look of sheer fear and horror set in his wide green eyes as he looked down at his body, soon seeing the culprit that was the empty beer glass his father was holding. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!"

Adrian groaned, the sound soon fading to a relieved sigh when he realised the liquid that had woken him up from his drunken slumber was just water. Thank god. "Wha - What time is it?" His voice was yet to wake up as it deeply croaked the question, the redheaded standing to make his way over to the bathroom sinks to wash his face and calm his aching, hungover head.

"I don't know. Maybe ten o'clock or something." Frank shrugged, going to take a sip from his beer glass; only to remember it was empty and not filled with beer. He sighed. "Dammit."

Adrian's eyes grew to the sizes of saucers as he cursed loudly under his breath; running a stressed hand through his red locks. "Shit! School!" He remembered, crying out in a frantic frustration as he stormed out of the bathroom with his father following close behind. "Any chance you could give me a ride? I can't miss another day; Mum'll kill me."

"Oh, I don't have a car." Frank bluntly informed him, making Adrian look at him wildly. "Do you think we just walked here for fresh air?"

"Uh, yeah, I kinda did." Adrian's voice squeaked as he grew more stressed, his cursing only doubling in percentage as he sarcastically muttered to himself. "This day is off to a smashing start."

"I'm sure Shaun could take you. Hey, Shaun!" Slapping an "encouraging" hand on his son's shoulder, the eldest Dolorem man shouted out to the man standing by the pub bar; cleaning dirty glasses.

"What, asshole?"

"My son here needs a lift to school. Can you take him? I'll put in a good word with Liz for you." The man promised, sending his son a wink with a look that read "don't worry. I got this".

"The hot one or the ugly one?"

"Like I know the difference!" Frank shouted back, shrugging hopelessly. "The one with the criminal record!"

"Oh. Alright then! Just let me finish up this glass and then we can go!"

Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, hearing his head thud like a group of kids is using it for a substitute trampoline; jumping up and down with their mucky feet hitting him right in the noggin.

Please let this day be bearable. He begged.

❚ ❚ ❚

Adrian Martin had never tried weed in his entire hectic life; a thing he was actually quite shocked about, honestly. However, he had been around enough misfits to know of the drug and its pungent smell really well; and boy did Shaun's car reek of it.

The teen might as well have been high himself as he practically jumped out of the car, not even giving Shaun the time to stop the slowing vehicle as his nostrils took a big whiff of the fresh, clean air in front of the school grounds with a deep breath of freedom.

"You sure you don't want some?" Shaun asked Adrian from the driver's seat for the fourth time since he got in the car, offering the underage boy a rolled up blunt through the smoking car window.

Adrian felt like he was still fast asleep in a dream as he blinked in utter disbelief at the bold question from the burly man. "Um, no, I'm good." He awkwardly raised a hand. "Thanks for the ride though."

"No worries. Ciao!" Shaun didn't stick around for long - Adrian didn't even want to think hard on the reasons why. He reversed the car and sped away, the engine revving and cracking at a troubling speed.

"Well, he seemed nice." An accented voice came from behind Adrian, making the boy jump and whirl round to meet the eyes of a smiling Toby Valack. "Good morning."

"Jesus," Adrian whispered, a hand on his chest as him and the blonde walked side-by-side to the entrance of the school that was already in session. "You're here earlier than usual. Do you just show up whenever you want?"

The blonde plainly hummed, his hands clasped behind his back as he walked. "Well, sort of. I mainly appear when you require some sort of guidance, assistance, and reassuring. So . . . pretty much the same thing back when I was - "

"Yeah, I know." Adrian quickly butted in, his mind and ears still numb from last night and the mere thought of the word in their peculiar circumstance. He was quick to change routes, speaking rather sardonically as he asked. "So what type of wise guidance am I needing right now?"

"The type of guidance that reassures you because you're going to be seeing your ex-boyfriend since your recent break up." Toby's stony comment was like pliers pulling at Adrian's organs residing in his chest; his stomach lurching.

Halting up the steps, the Martin boy turned towards his friend with an complacent expression; his mouth even hanging open with enough room for a fly to pop in. Toby kept his act of innocence while also displaying a "you know I'm right" look. "Damn, Tobs, when did you lose your diffident youth?"

The Valack boy purred as they continued on walking. "Never lost it. I'm just blatantly stating the obvious."

"Can angels read minds or something?" Adrian grimaced, kind of dreading the answer. If he got a yes, he was slamming his head on the school's brick walls. Try understanding a damaged brain, asshole.

Toby tittered angelically at the question, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiled. "No, silly. I just know you really well." His smile was infectious, and Adrian couldn't resist one of his own slipping through; but that glimmer of joy fleeted fast when he vaguely recalled last night's occurrences.

The kiss.

"Um, Toby?" The redhead was now a bit more timid as he hesitantly swivelled to face his friend, stuffing his hands into his denim jean pockets. "I know I did kind of mention this last night, but -"

"But nothing." The Valack boy inserted before his friend could push the words out, shaking his head with his dirty-blonde hair falling out of place delicately. "You don't need to say anything. We talked about this last night."

"And would you believe me if I said I still feel guilty about it?" Adrian quizzed, appearing sorrily shamefaced when admitting the guilt that had worn him down all morning.

"Hold on. Is this -" Toby pointed a finger up to the blue sky, spinning round searchingly as if a mysterious bird had just flew by. "Is this a one of a kind Adrian Martin apology I'm sensing?"

"Nope. It's just the cliche survivors guilt." Adrian's shoulders had slump so much that his bag straps were beginning to slack and slide off as he stood directly in front of the school's double doors; his angel of a friend joining him with light, feathery steps.

"Why feel guilt? All humans die, Adrian." Toby's pink lips curled at their sides, but it wasn't warming to the teen across from the blonde as he looked off to the distance in thought. "We're all really just angels harbouring the bodies of humans until we cut ties with the world."

"Don't act like you've accepted the fact that you're dead in front of me, Toby." Adrian harshly bit, shaking his head in a show of resistance. Toby's brown eyes widened at the switch of tone, the redhead speaking before anything else could be said on the matter. "Are you coming in, or what?"

"I'm good. I'll maybe make another appearance though soon." Toby stayed planted at the top of the steps, his skinny hands slipping into his pockets with an assuring nod. "You know I won't be far."

"Haha." Adrian droned lowly, palms lying flat on the big school doors. "Any other wise words you would like to throw my way?" It was a rhetorical ask for the most part, but Toby answered regardless.

"Yes, actually." He beamed, tilting his head that was a sign for the best friend to brace himself for what was to come next. He was right, of course. "You can't numb everything until you can longer feel it. Even if you turn off all the lights, you'll still see it somehow in a room."

". . . What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know what it means." The Valack boy's lips pulled into a straight line when he detected the indication of his friend's face falling in a downward slope of emotions. "But, I could go on in further detail if you wish."

"No. No, I think I'm good." The Martin shut down, waving his hand as he swung open the two doors open with a force stronger than required; not prolonging his entry. "See you!"

And so Adrian Martin walked into Beacon Hills High School about an hour and a half late now. The halls were deserted, everyone in their assigned classes as the redhead poked his head around skeptically like he was some thief in the midst of a grand heist.

Eyeing the school clock that hung tauntingly on the wall that remarkably displayed the correct time, Adrian weighed his options fairly before ultimately deciding he should probably just hide out in the bathroom until next period rolls over and he could mix in with the crowd.

Unfortunately, as the young teen crept his way to his hiding spot, Coach Finstock was strolling through the hallways.

The teacher spotted him immediately, stopping in his tracks crossing the hall as Adrian's green orbs flew wide open; his heels turning as he twisted and speed-walked in the opposite direction from the man. Coach's footsteps thudded after him as he called out loudly. "Hey! Hey, Martin! Stop! I know it's you! Stop right now! I know you can hear me! You can actually comprehend orders, unlike Greenberg!"

Adrian had one foot out of the door when his shoulder was abruptly grabbed by a strong hand, yanking him back until he was tightly tucked under his Coach's arm as he steered him away from his hopeful escape. The Martin boy cringed, hesitantly locking eyes with the teacher. "Morning, Coach. Lovely day today, isn't it?"

"It would be better if you were in class." Bobby answered as they headed in the direction of the science corridor; where Adrian was scheduled to currently be learning in. "I'm not loosing another one of my best players; especially you, Martin."

"I'm sure there are some successful high school dropout lacrosse players out there in the world." Adrian tried, feeling his insides grow cold when the door to his current class faced him, and he felt the even colder coat of soon-to-be embarrassment overcome him.

"Nice try, but the only dropout I'm accepting from you is the dropping to the ground after completing the laps I'm about to make you do after this." Was all that the Coach said as he knocked to swing the classroom door open with permission, Adrian getting one last lousy groan in before being shoved into the room.

All eyes were on the intruding teen as Coach swiftly winked and closed the door, giving a careless acknowledgment to Ms Blake; therefore, her attention was now set on the Martin boy as she sighed through her nose, crossed her arms, and leaned on her desk. "Ah, Mr. Martin, how nice of you to finally join us."

Adrian had to bite down on his tongue. He hated the look she was giving him. It was like a toddler that needed a talking down to. And Adrian Martin was certainly no toddler. ". . . May I take a seat?"

I think even Ms. Blake knew her boundaries with the boy. Besides, he looked like he had been through the wringer already. His clothes and hair were still damp and soggy, his pale complexion not helping the purple bags sleeping under his eyes. He smelled to, the stench of weed and alcohol quite clear. Heck, Scott McCall had to actually pull a face at the boy's pungent scent that wafted through his supernatural nostrils.

When he got a stiff nod of consent, Adrian moped along the rows to his seat until his butt rested comfortably on the chair; his green eyes staring at the wooden pattern on his desk as he heard uncomfortable shuffles and low whispers around him.

Surprisingly, Adrian Martin didn't feel embarrassed. He felt more stupid actually. He felt like he was below everyone else at that moment, basically feeling like he was wearing the dunce cone they used to use back in the day; the metaphorical cone hat perched homely on his head as Ms Blake returned to her lesson.

"Okay, so - like I was saying before we were rudely interrupted -" she paused to give Adrian a short look, to which the boy remained stone-cold; barely able to even hear her due to his thumping headache. He really should've asked for some Advil before leaving the pub. "Mr. Harris is still missing. I mean, sick. Anyway, I'm filling in while we all hope and pray for a more qualified substitute to take my place."

Good luck finding anyone that stays alive for long enough in this town. Adrian was overly bitter this morning, his temper at an even shorter level than normal - which low enough for the average human being as you could already tell.

And hearing the voice of his ex-boyfriend coincidentally seated at the table right in front of him didn't help his mood as he discussed matters with his best friend on a topic that he wished his ears could just cancel out.

Adrian had to look at him. Really, he couldn't ignore his presence. He was sitting right in front of him! His eyes were obviously going to travel there; especially sitting in a boring class where the most fun thing visible was the animal anatomy charts hung up on the walls!

The boy watched as the young Stilinski talked, fidgeting with his pen as his hair bounced with his very light nods. Being seated closest to the window had earned it a light sunlight glow, making it appear all the more fluffy and soft as every strand resembled a plump pillow that Adrian remembered laying his head upon. Had his hair always looked that soft?

Next was the plaid shirt he wore. It was a variety of squared colours, Adrian too hungover to properly separate what shade was considered a blue and what shade was considered a purple. Either way, the boy appreciated the pattern that danced along his tired eyes. He always had a tendency to spy on what pattern of shirt the boy had gone for that day - even before dating or being somewhat friendly with him.

And normally without fail, Adrian would make a teasing comment on the piece of clothing - although he had been a bit nicer back when they were dating. But that's just it, isn't it? They weren't dating anymore, so the redhead refrained from speaking his mind freely as Stiles talked to Scott.

"Hey, my dad said that the ER attending wasn't strangled, but did die from asphyxiation." Stiles' low, hoarse words couldn't help but peek Adrian's interest. He felt like a little kid trying to figure out what their parents are talking about when sitting apart at the dinner table. "They just don't know how."

Geez, what the hell have I missed? Adrian wondered as he twiddled with his pen. I guess he shouldn't be all that surprised considering he had been blocking the two boys ever since him and Stiles broke things off rather poorly.

"Do you think the on-call doctor could still be alive?" Scott questioned, his eyes casting to his desk as his eyebrows furrowed at the situation. He looked almost as confused as the redhead seated not that far away from him did.

"I don't know." Stiles' hands fiddled with his pen the same way they would with a sharpie as he worked on his crime board in his room. The recognition of the small detail made Adrian kind of amazed that he even remembered it, feeling a tad bit embarrassed about it. That shouldn't be something he remembers, right? "But, Scott, there's got to be at least twenty other doctors in that hospital. At least. You know? Any one of them could be next."

The reminder that somehow doctors played a big role in this had Adrian's spine sporting a chilling sensation. He thought of his dad - his real one - and how fast he had run to check if he was okay; and he seemed more than okay living away from society. Plus, Frank had a shotgun, so he's protected from the danger . . . right?

Having said that, Through the months, Adrian's heart had grieved with the sinking reality that here in Beacon Hills, it doesn't matter. You could range from the strongest supernatural being in the entire world to the most innocent civilian who wouldn't hurt a fly . . . you'd still end up getting killed. No one was safe. No one.

Scott's phone suddenly vibrated, the young werewolf picking up the call promptly when he saw the caller ID. And when Adrian heard his greeting, he didn't blame him for taking up the call so fast. "Hey, Doc. Sorry, I'm in class right now. Can I call you back later?"

As Deaton spoke on the other line, Adrian could tell by the way Scott's facial expression shifts instantly to a recognisable fear that what he was saying wasn't good. It made an imaginable animal claw at his stomach, as if wanting to get inside for inspection to make sure that they knew for certain that this situation was having an effect on him. And boy was it.

"Doc, Doc, Doc, Doc, what's happening?" Scott rushed, but the line must've already went dead as the McCall boy's eyes filled with dread. Something was wrong.

Without a word, Scott excused himself from the room. He ran out of the class, the action a lot more alerting than his usual speed-walk when something urgently needing handled came up.

This left Stiles and Adrian to share a look between them out of old habit, just like they had always done when Scott first became a werewolf. However, this stare was different; most likely because things were different now, and Stiles and Adrian didn't know where they currently stood.

Stiles's fingers wrapped themselves around his bag strap, keeping a tight hold that paled his knuckles. Come on, Adrian. His frantic mind coaxed, the boy having to suck on the textured skin of his tongue to keep from actually saying it.

Adrian knew what the eyes of the boy were saying. He knew what that looked screamed. It screamed to be followed, to be accompanied . . . but Adrian stayed stationed in his seat.

His pen was poised in his hand, his green eyes flicking up to the teen as he held his gaze the same way Medusa would before she turned her victims to solid stone. But this look was anything but murderous, yet it still was like a dagger to the heart when Adrian ruthlessly shook his head at the boy.

Stiles felt his longings disintegrate. A part of him wanted this to be a bad dream, he had convinced himself halfheartedly during the late hours of last night that it was. He told himself that today would go completely normal - or as normal as the day can go. He would walk into school, meet up with his boyfriend, greet him with a "morning, tiger", and maybe even sneak a little kiss on his cheek if he was feeling lucky. Sadly, when Adrian walked past the threshold of school and into their English class, something stirred in him; like he already knew that the redhead's wasted state was enough to tell him that desired thinking was just as much of a waste as their relationship.

Stiles had to advert his eyes of hazel colour to the floor. His hands gripped onto his bag tighter, craving something to hold onto. "You promised." He mumbled so faintly that he himself found it hard to hear, but his lips were flexible enough for the redhead to make out the two words with a heavy memory resurfacing.

"Stiles! Please, for the love of god, sit down!" Adrian exclaimed from his spot on the young Stilinski's bed as textbooks quilted his sprawled body, pens and highlighters scattered all around him.

"You and I both know that's not gonna happen." Came the stubborn boy's reply as he paced around his bedroom as if on patrol, the wildly assorted crime board on full display for both of them to see.

"I swear to god, Stiles, if you don't get over here and help me with my history, I'm taking those damn red strings you have up on your board and tying you up in them to hold you hostage until my work is complete." Adrian groaned to the ceiling, far passed the point of patience as his mind began to blur all the historical dates he had to remember together.

His boyfriend pursed his lips in response, his hands settled on his hips as he stood by the end of bed. His nostrils released a deep exhale as his shoulders sagged. "Adrian, we live in Beacon Hills, the town where practically everything goes wrong! And we," he gestures frantically between them with his pointer finger. "are the unfortunate kids who need to pinpoint just exactly what is going wrong in this town! Otherwise, this place will be a walking supernatural theme park!"

The Martin boy just boyishly giggled. "Like that one Goosebumps episode?" He commented as he sat up against the pillows on the bed, his feet dangling off the edge.

Stiles' words failed him for a moment, his head angling in scepticism. "You read the Goosebumps books growing up?"

"Well, I mean . . . I watched the show."

"And there it is." Stiles puffs, pinching the bridge of his nose crisply before his hands fall back down to his sides. "But, no, it won't be like a Goosebumps episode, because this here is real. And it's by no means kid-friendly!"

"Well, when you think about it, Goosebumps was actually kinda scary. Especially that one episode where -"

"Adrian!" Stiles stopped him, moaning exhaustively into his hands. "Listen, I would love to have this conversation with you - and I can't believe I actually mean that genuinely - but can we maybe have it when we actually have a clue what on earth is going on around this town!" It was clear as day that Stiles was stressed, more so than usual. His face looked faded in its colour, his hair all messy and unkempt from running his hands through it too much.

With a hefty breath, Adrian stretched out his limbs on the bed with stifled noises. Stiles' lips couldn't help but lift at their sides. He looked like a cat stretching after just waking up from a nap.

The redheaded teen collected himself to his feet, striding over to the boy. Without a word exchanged, he placed his arms underneath Stiles' armpits. The boy's eyebrows furrowed. "What are you - Adrian!" He cried when he felt his boyfriend tug them back before he was swept off his feet and falling down, taking himself with him.

The two boys landed on the bed with a squeak, Adrian placing his leg across Stiles' lap when he sat up and made a move to get up. When he gave a stern glance, the Martin boy just gave him one right back. "Come on, Stiles, you've been at this for hours now. I came over with the promise of pizza and completed work. And while I have the pizza, I can't help but notice my work is looking awfully uncompleted."

"I gave you my notes!" Stiles divulged, bringing his hand up to scratch the boy's scalp, threading his fingers throw his soft locks that smelled of his shampoo that was of a rich cedar scent.

"Yeah, your history notes which also happen to also be your supernatural ones!" Adrian expressed, allowing his head to be petted as he held up the piles of paper which were filled with scribbles of historic and supernatural timelines and research. And now that Stiles got a proper look at it, he could admittedly see where he was coming from in terms of deciphering them. The redhead released another sigh, this one at a softer pitch. "Listen, I promise that right now, we're fine. Scott's fine, Lydia's fine, I'm fine, you're fine, Isaac is somewhat fine - I don't really talk to him a lot of the time so I wouldn't really know."

Stiles breathed a laugh, his hobbled smile broadening lightly. But then, his mind came and rained on his parade. And, just as soon as it arrived, his look of content left him. His hand stilled in its motions, instead twisting a strand of red hair around his finger carefully. "I just don't want any of us to be alone. We - We've already lost people dealing with this, Adrian," he calmly spoke, his eyes reluctantly meeting his like a lost puppy. "I don't want to lose anyone close to us."

It's sad, because a few months ago, Adrian would've barked a remorseless laugh at his words; calling them ridiculous. But the Necromancer part of him, the part he desperately wanted to rid himself of, knew that his words were within reason . . . but that didn't stop him from spitting out pretty little lies. "You won't."

"You can't promise that." Stiles whispered, staring at his patterned bedsheets as his free hand grasped their cushy covers.

Stiles is right, you can't. "Yes, I can." Liar. "How about this," he proposed, scooting closer to the Stilinski boy with a brain that was too anxious for its own good. "I promise that if anything comes up, I'll be right there with you. That way, we can be there for each other, and you," he flicked his boyfriend's forehead lightly, smiling at the way his face scrunched up. "can stop worrying that everything in Beacon Hills is a death threat."

Adrian thought the conversation would be over and done with after that, and hopefully he would have a page filled with winning history answers, but Stiles wasn't done just yet. "You promise?" He pressed, studying the redhead and all his fiery features as silence filled in the blanks. When Adrian opened his mouth, Stiles rushed out another sentence. "Don't say it if you don't mean it."

Did Adrian mean it? He wasn't sure what he meant sincerely anymore. His whole life felt like a lie at this point. Right now, all he knew was that he was sincere in the fact that he wanted his boyfriend to sit down and help him finish his schoolwork . . . so he promised something he couldn't always guarantee.

"I promise, Stiles."

Adrian refused to look as he heard the classroom door close and shut with a loud click, leaving him sitting alone in a room full of standing students packing up their things in order to leave. He bit down at his lip, looking down at his paper only to see that he was so wrapped up in his own head that he wasn't even focused on spelling words correctly . . . or even getting the words right at all.

After all, he had just wrote the word Stiles instead of stay at the end of his paragraph.

With a subdued grunt, Adrian erased the name with such force so strong and hostile that it almost ripped the paper. He grumpily scribbled the correct word in its place before marching up and slamming it on the table next to all his classmate's sheets, the noise making a few pupils jump.

Adrian Martin didn't even give them a regretful glance as he strode out of the class, slamming the door unnecessarily hard behind him.

Speed walking down the halls, Adrian hands were smacking ferociously at his face as he muttered incoherent phrases under his breath. He headed straight for the library entrance, choosing to waste his time at least trying to work his grades up.

A little birdie in the back of his mind told him to look back, to cast his attention elsewhere to the stand-offish doors he had arrived late in and think about his decision. His gut was poisoned by what his body told him was the wrong decision, but Adrian didn't see it that way . . . or that's what he liked to believe, at least.

Adrian Martin wished for a ticket out of his own head, and a book seemed like the best way to submerge him in a world other than his own. And so, for the first time in a long while, Adrian walked into the school library all alone and started scanning the book shelves on his own terms; brushing past any titles that even remotely brought a trigger to his mind.

❚ ❚ ❚

"You should've gone, you know?" Adrian brought his head up from his school notes only to be met by the face of one of his english books, the cover being pulled down to reveal a displeased looking Toby Valack sitting in the library chair across from his. "I know you wanted to."

The Martin boy scoffed at his words which - at first thought - were untrue, shaking his head. "Why on Earth would I want to get wrapped willingly into this mess again, Toby? I'm done with it all."

The blonde just raises a skeptic eyebrow. "All of it?" He accentuates, giving him a look which could only be read as the want of a confession.

Adrian slumped his front body flat on his papers, frustrated, bother scrawled all over his face like a rushed essay. "I know what you're trying to do here." With squinted eyes, the teen pointed an accusing finger at his friend - forgetting that he most likely looked insane given that no one could see the Valack boy but him. "You think you're clever, don't you?"

"Next to you, I am." The blonde's lips creeped up in a smile until his teeth were showing, a certain look of pride wearing him. "It's what makes us such a good pair."

"Har har." Adrian blanked expressionlessly, feeling like his eyes were going to roll into the back of his head with the amount of times he had been doing the action recently. "Funny." He went back to his notes without a word, but Toby clearly wasn't one for dropping the conversation.

"You're not going to get any studying done. Your mind's on your friends." Toby told him, leaning forward while resting his chin peacefully on his palm. He looked so relaxed that Adrian envied him.

"They are not my friends anymore." Adrian sternly corrected, a bitter undertone to his words as he switched between papers. "This is a new start. This," he gestures down to his entire self. "is the start of a new, supernatural-free Adrian Martin."

Toby just hummed in acknowledgment at his statement, not looking too persuaded as his brown eyes drifted down to the papers below. "Well, are you at least going to see Frank again?" He wondered genuinely.

Adrian just shrugged. "Probably. He is my dad after all. Right now, I think I just need to take a break and do something normal. I just need to do something past me would've done before all this bullshit happened. Just like . . . like,"

The thing is, when push came to shove, Adrian couldn't think of anything. His mind was a void pit full of empty answers. What had he done before all this? Or - more importantly - what had he done before all this that he didn't involve Stiles with at some point in time?

He couldn't pick lacrosse training, because Stiles would always lend him a helping hand; despite not being the overall greatest at the school sport. He couldn't pick a movie night, because that was also something Stiles joined in with; the two boys switching from who picked which movie on Netflix first.

Suddenly, another memory came to play in his mind, coming for him like a predatory animal . . . and he was the defenceless prey to his teeth.

"He was a shitty husband." Stiles grumbled in complaint as the young couple sat on his bed with some takeaway food on their laps, spooning its contents into his mouth.

Adrian scoffed with a mouthful of noodles stuffed in cheeks. "Aren't all movie husbands supposed to be somewhat shitty?"

"Well, I guess, but he could've at least cared enough to be there at the house for her." Was Stiles' defence, gesturing to the screen for more affect. "I guarantee you, that if he was there, she would still be alive."

"No, she wouldn't." Adrian's face scrunched up in disagreement as he shakes his head. "When it comes to movie couples, someone's got to die; whether that be one of them, or both of them."

"That's not true!" Stiles clacked lightly at his boyfriends bold statement, turning to face him and snorting at how the redhead rushed to swallow his mouthful of food to quickly reply.

"Uh, yes it is! Its good tv!" He exclaimed, giving the boy a requesting look with raised brows. "Give me one couple from a horror movie who have both survived. They have to be together from the very beginning, and neither of them can be the killer."

Stiles took the challenge, looking away with a hum to signal the thought process had already begun. Adrian watched and studied the way the boy seemed to be having a mental conversation with himself in his head, causing him to suppress a laugh at what could be going through his head.

A minute or so had passed, and no answer came to be. From the looks of things, Stiles was stumped. "See! You can't think of one!" Adrian grinned in success, his boyfriend swiftly coming to his own defence with a offended look.

"Yes, I can! I just need more time to think!" He excused, the redhead not buying his words.

"Ha, you can't think of one, you can't think of one." The Martin boy chanted as he teasingly began to poke the boy beside him in the sides with a smirk.

Stiles rolled his eyes, trying to swat the boy's hands away from him but to no avail. "Get off, loser."

"Oh? Loser, huh?" Adrian took a note of how they had both now finished their takeaways, shoving the boxes out of their way as he clambered on top of the Stilinski boy while a playful, mini wrestle match ensued as they pushed their hands together. "Wanna say that again?"

"You heard me. Loser, loser, loser." Stiles sang with a cheeky grin, the two boys now play fighting on his bed as one fought to top the other.

"You're not gonna win here, Stiles." Adrian stated beyond doubt as he watched his boyfriend trying to calculate what angle to approach at, keeping a tight grip on his hands as he towered over him. "If you take back what you said, I might consider letting you go."

Stiles struggled a bit more before his body relaxed, a look of surrender on his face. The cocky Martin took that as a sign of indicated victory, his look bright and prideful as he boasted. "Told you. Now, what was that you were saying about me being a lo -"

Suddenly, Stiles brought his head forwards until his pink lips crashed with Adrian's; cutting the boy off completely. Not only that, but the kiss gave him the upper hand as his boyfriend froze like a deer in highlights, feeling a fluttery buzz in his stomach.

Adrian then abruptly felt hands on his shoulders slide up only to push him back until his back collided with the bed sheets, Stiles's chest was pressed against his own as he lay on top of him, a winning smile of his own now plastered on. "Gotcha." The Stilinski boy whispered, pecking his cheek sloppily with a goofy smile.

Adrian had greyed out for a moment, and it took the slick, wet pressure of his boyfriend's lips to graze his cheek for him to come to term with reality as he sat, defeated with his boyfriend comfortably on top of him.

"You - You cheated." He accused the victorious boy, who was swimming heavenly in his glitching reaction.

"All's fair in love and war, tiger." Stiles quoted, seeming overly pleased with himself. "And, for the record, I don't think you're a loser." He gently assured him, smiling down at him with a tender undertone.

Adrian shrugged off the compliment like a drenched coat after a walk in the pouring rain, still lying under the boy as his green eyes did another roll. "I know you don't. I, however, think you are a loser."

Stiles gave him a look of mock surprise, his lips twirling up in a smirk. "Using toddler taunts now, are we?" Not meaning to, Stiles' fingers accidentally grazed the underneath of his boyfriends' outstretched arms. He froze when his touch seemed to activated something within the boy, for Adrian Martin reclined from his hold with a muffled giggle. "Did - Did you just giggle? Adrian Martin, are you ticklish?"

"No, fuck off!" The Martin boy shut down as he pressed his head into his boyfriend's pillow, feeling a pressure reapplying itself to his underarms. It caused the very same reaction to stir from him like before, his body curling up defensively. "Stiles!"

"You are!" Stiles dodged the boy's waving hands in a weak attempt to shove him off, his hands doing a dance along the redhead's sides as he squirmed like a wriggly worm.

"Piss off!" Adrian loudly laughed, unable to stop his smile as his boyfriend tickled him. The two rolled side-to-side on the bed as it soon evolved into a tickle fight between them, Stiles faltering when Adrian got his sides. "Yeah, now who's ticklish?" He now had the upper hand as his boyfriend desperately tried to shake his hands off him.

"I'll kiss you again!" Stiles threatened with a chuckle. Adrian laughed and tugged the boy towards his arms, his back meeting his chest as he encased him in his hold. His fingers drummed in ticklish manners across the boy's stomach as the Stilinski kept rushing out empty threats in between fits of laughter.

"You wouldn't dare!" Adrian proclaimed dramatically, sounding like a character from a reality TV show while his boyfriend finally managed to twist himself round until his hands found home on his shoulders; their faces inches apart now. The Martin boy grinned. "Hello there, can I help you?"

"Yes, in fact, you can," Stiles' hazel-eyes fell from his beautiful, dilated green pupils to his lips that were glistening and smooth under his thumb as he dragged it down clear for kissing access.

With both of the teens now fully leaning in, a mutual kiss between them was expected. Unfortunately, the pair both jumped when a loud scream tore through the room. Out of naturally grown instinct over the last few months, the couple turned to the source of the noise only to see the husband they were having a debate about earlier had been the one to release the cry of pain as a knife entered his chest area near the heart.

Adrian seemed more pleased about the guy's death than Stiles did, a cry of joy leaving his lips as he pointed to the screen frenziedly. "Ha! Called it!"

Realising Stiles was glaring at a TV screen for disrupting their kiss, the boy released a noise at the back of his throat in disagreement. "As if."

"I totally did! I'm telling you, Stiles, movie couples just don't make it to the end." Adrian spoke to his own factual belief, gesturing to the screen where the husband was left to bleed out as the life fades from his eyes.

Stiles suddenly became limp against the boy with a numb thought, speaking before he gave his mind the time to lock it up. "We - We would though . . . right?"

Adrian tore his eyes away from the screen to see the overwrought state of his boyfriend as his ginger brows knitted together in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you said that couples don't make it to the end. We would, right? You and I?" He further explained, turning his head from his TV to his lost partner's face.

Adrian scoffed under his breath with a vague eye roll, his hands by his sides on the duvet. "That's only in the movies, Stiles."

"Adrian, we may as well be in a movie with how we're spending our lives!" Stiles defended, gesturing around his room as if that was a symbol of their life, and how messed up and cursed it was.

He looked so stressed, so scared of the unknown. No teen knew what would become of their future, but they were different. They didn't know what day would be their last . . . or whose day would be their last.

"This is really important to you, isn't it?" Adrian realised eventually with a gentle voice, his words like a whisper that was only heard due to a silent part reaching the movie. When the teen didn't answer, this provoked the Martin boy to settle his hand on his waist. "Stiles?"

"How do we not become like the rest, Adrian?" The boy inquired, shaking his head as it stared down at the blue bedding they were laying on. "How do we not become like all those other couples you say never make it on screen?"

"Because we're better." The reply came quick, like it was a question that was quick to switch on an answer in the mind of Adrian Martin. "We won't be like them, because we're always there for each other; that's what makes us different from them, Stiles. We've been there. Always."

The Stilinski boy bit down on his lip, hesitantly looking up. "Promise me it'll stay that way." He tenderly whispered, his eyes glimmering as if he was playing a whole movie scene of their fate in his mind. His eyes began to become crystallised like gemstones as they shone in the dimly illuminated room. "Promise me that you won't pull a movie husband, and be there."

"I thought that kinda came with the couple package." Adrian attempted a jab at a joke, but his laugh fell flat when he saw his normally jokey boyfriend didn't crack or slip in his deep pool of emotions. That's when Adrian's face matched his sincere one, straightening up. "Stiles, you know I would never let you get yourself killed in the first place. Why promise?"

"Because a promise is forever." Stiles answered, letting his words hang thin in the air as he extended his pinky finger. He cracked a tender smile. "Plus, I heard that in Japan some believed that if you broke a pinky promise, you had to cut off your finger in return."

Adrian chortled at the news, keeping his gaze locked on the boy as he locked pinkies with him and shook it once for good, affirmative measure. "Didn't take you for a pinky promise type of guy, Stiles."

"There's a lot of things you don't take me for." Stiles played off his words in a jokingly mysterious tone, his mood lifting by the minute now that he had a new promise under his belt.

"Oh yeah? Other than an extreme loser?" The redhead released a laugh when the boy threw himself forward so his back hit the bed once more with his added weight on top of him. The Stilinski then nuzzled his face into the boy's fiery red hair, resulting in it to become a mess. "Hey! Watch the hair!"

Stiles chuckled, getting off the boy and rolling onto his back, so they were now staring at the bland ceiling together. The brown-haired boy smiled as his boyfriend frantically tried to pet his hair down to smooth it over. "Whatever, tiger." Looking over, his look turned admirable as he watched the teen. "I love you. And I'm committed to the promise too. I'll be there. I won't let you die."

"I think you made that apparent before we even started dating." Adrian reminded him of the little buzzcut boy who had reassured the shaggy-haired redhead who was lost in what was going on with him that he wouldn't die like this in the very room they sat now. That moment seemed like years ago now to them after everything.

"And I mean it even more now." Stiles shrugged easily, his posture now relaxed with reassurance. "Besides, can't go against a promise now. We're stuck with one another through all this now for good, tiger."

"Right," Adrian hid his smile by turning his head to the side when he felt his boyfriend cuddle into his side comfortably like he was a pillow, getting ready to turn on another movie as the credits for the last one rolled. "Stuck together."

Adrian Martin banged his palms sharply on the library's wooden desk, the sound ripping through the hollow silence that lived in the room. Many students gave him looks of surprise, anger, or even both; but the teen didn't even notice as he stood up, throwing his stuff in his bag before swinging it over his shoulders aggressively.

"Stupid promises." He growled under his breath as he jogged out of the library and headed towards the school exit, no one even hearing or seeing Toby Valack call after him with a frown.

A U T H O R. N O T E
yikes. sorry for taking so long on this update, guys. guess i wasn't joking in the last chapter lol.

as always, i have to recognise your support! you guys are all amazing! much love to all of you guys for sticking around.

hope you enjoyed those two, little stidrian flashback moments. i know things have been a little ✨ rough ✨ for our two favourite boys lately, so i hope you enjoyed them.

thank you for reading!
love you all!

GIF MADE BY ME !
━ R O S C O E O B R I E N
( 7.8k words )