They meet on their first year of college. Well, it’s not the first for any of them, but it’s this time’s first.
Scott is somewhat excited. There are times, long lapses of years where he doesn’t feel like doing this anymore. Years where he changes into the jaguar and lets the wilderness take over his human conscience, and enjoys the freedom of memory and guilt. There are times of desperation. He’s tried to end it many times, but his body won’t give in. He’s survived fire, illness, hunger, cold. He’s survived himself. More often than not, lately, he wishes he hadn’t. But this time he’s actually looking forward to the years to come. To life.
Stiles is bored. Humans are boring, death is dull, life is a combination of both. He figures that college might bring some kind of novelty into his existence. New interests, new knowledge, new preys, new dangers, whatever. He needs something exciting. Something to make him feel alive. Or, at least, something alive that catches his interest.
Kira, on the other hand, loves college. It’s always been one of her favorite parts of human life. There are lots of things to learn, lots of people to meet, lots of freedom- and humans are so gullible during their early twenties! She loves them, really. And there is something… Something about New York, or about the way that electric storms make her skin feel lately, that tells her that something interesting is about to happen.
They meet on their first year of college, and the first time they see each other, it feels like a punch to the gut. And it’s a first. For the first time in very, very long time, something happens for the first time.
Scott meets Stiles first. He’s unpacking his bags when the door opens, and he prays to his old gods that his roommate this time is nice. He decided to go into med school once, and he never felt so compelled to kill a human being like after his third week of living with Jackson Whittemore. He likes being close to humans, so he always picks shared dorms when he decides to go to college, but that time was a huge mistake.
Scott frowns at first. Something's off with this boy. His aura is all wrong, dark and twisted. Scott can't help but stare at him, mouth agape as he takes on the dark circles under his eyes, the too pale skin, the twitching glances. After a few seconds, he comes to a conclusion. It must be clinical depression. Depressed humans always have a dark aura, and Scott thinks to himself that it's good that this boy got paired up with him. He's found that his energy can help people heal, and the possibility of helping him is something to look forward.
He smiles brightly, and steps forward with his hand extended. "Hey! I'm Scott! You must be... Stilinski? I read your name but I can't remember it."
The boy grins. He looks young but jaded, and the way his mouth stretches when he smiles has an edge of danger to it. Scott is confused at what's this that he's feeling, but still tightens his grip on the hand that takes his. "Call me Stiles," the boy says, and lets his hand linger for a second before stepping away.
Stiles drags his new roommate to the campus' cafe. He purposefully leans on the guy's shoulder, runs a hand down his arm when talking to him, stays as close to his personal space as he can. He's never had a huge grudge with fate, but right now he wants to kiss the weavers of destiny on the mouth. He's been blessed with the most delicious roommate he could have asked for.
Scott is just his type. Cute smile, bright eyes, a face particular enough not to forget it. He's got gorgeous skin and interesting tattoos and really, really nice arms. Of course, Stiles is not that shallow. He wouldn't only care for the guy's muscles. He also likes the smell of his blood. He's sure it's particularly sweet.
He likes to play with his prey, though. He likes to charm them, to make them want him. It's easy. Just staying near them for long enough will make the trick. Once his power has drawn them in, he just needs to turn on the charm and his body language will do the rest. Humans are so easy.
Scott takes his coffee with too much sugar and too much cream, and instantly befriends the cashier. She's called Camila and laughs at whatever Scott is telling her in a very rushed Spanish, and answers with a sweet accent and a sweeter smile. She smiles at Stiles too, but just in passing. He's not used to humans not being instantly drawn to him, and it bothers him a little.
"Hey, let's drink it outside, I need a smoke," Stiles says, and grabs at Scott's elbow to guide him out. They sit together at a bench, just a few steps away from a couple at their left and a girl sitting alone by their right. The girl looks up from her book and then back at it, but Stiles feels her watching.
"You didn't tell me what was your major," Stiles points out while he tries to fish for the cigarettes in his backpack with one hand and balance the coffee cup with the other. Scott takes the coffee from him, smiling, and informs him that he's in Women's Studies. Stiles grins.
"Well, I should have guessed," is his answer, and he finally finds the cigarettes. You know, for a creature of the night and all that shit, he's pretty useless sometimes. He takes one out, saves the pack on his jacket's pocket, and closes the backpack. When he looks up, with the cigarette hanging from his mouth and just now realizing that his lighter was also in the bag, Scott is no longer looking at him.
Stiles scowls when he realizes that the girl who was observing them just a second earlier is mouthing to whatever music is sounding on her headphones and headbanging softly while she plays drums in the air, the book forgotten on her lap. Not that she isn't cute, but Stiles really isn't used to humans not paying attention to him.
Kira sees the person's legs and raises her eyes up to his face. The guy is grinning at her with his eyebrows raised and an unlit Marlboro hanging from the side his mouth, so she takes her headphones off and stares back at him. He softens his smile and says, "I'm sorry to interrupt your concert but, what are the chances you have a lighter on you?"
Kira smiles. She has to stand up to get the lighter from the backpocket of her jeans, and the guy grins down at her when she blushes, noticing they are way too close. He steps back, though, and she raises the empty lighter and makes it spark. The flame is slightly green-ish, but the guy just leans closer and sucks on his cigarette until it's lit.
She sees his eyes turn towards the lighter. It's just a one-dollar transparent lighter without any lighter fluid inside but, well, people would probably notice if she spent her free time creating flames out of her fingers. Playing with the lighter's spark keeps her entertained and low-profile, though. And she should probably put that flame out, she thinks, scolding herself mentally as she wills the little fire out and pockets the lighter.
"Thank you, uh," the guy looks at her face again, smiling, and asks, "can I have your name?"
For the shortest second, though, she doesn't remember. Kira's always been pretty good at picking an identity and remembering its details to the most banal of them all, but with this guy's wide smile directed at her, she forgets her new name. Her name! It's only a fragment of a second, but enough to make her blush and feel flustered and a little annoyed. "I'm Kira," she answers, finally, and he smiles even more.
"Thank for you for the light, Kira," he says, with the cigarette still held on the corner of his lips, leaving shaky threads of smoke around his face. He takes it out of his mouth as he steps away, and then walks in the direction of his friend without a single glance back.
It's when he isn't looking that she lets her eyes go bright orange and follow him, and the sight of the fox picks up something that her human eyes couldn't: this guy's shadow is lanky and long and doesn't look at all human. (Her fox thinks, "fun, we've got a succubus to screw around with," her human side wants to run to the guy with the crooked smile and too many tattoos down his arms that he should get away from his "friend" as soon as possible).
Scott can feel the eyes on him. Whoever it is, they've been looking at him more or less constantly for the last fifteen minutes, and Scott feels him like an itch on his skin. Finally, exasperated, he turns around. To find the pretty girl with the big dark eyes and huge headphone from the first day, the one Stiles went to flirt with, looking at him. At his right arm, specifically, where the feathered snake that had been his protector deity runs down his bicep. The girl looks up at his face, smiles and blushes, but doesn't look away. Scott smiles back.
She seems to hesitate for a second, but finally picks up her coffee and her books and gets up from her library table, taking off her headphones as she reaches his table.
"Hey," Scott says, and her smile is toothy and bright. "Hi, I was wondering..." she rearranges the books under her arm, "how much do you hate having people pry at your tattoos?"
They talk tattoos for hours. Turns out Kira has three, though they aren't visible. She's fascinated by Scott's, which amount to seven right now. He tells her about Aztec mythology and the death of the ancient gods on the hands of the colonizers, like it was a fairy tale and not something he lived himself. She tells her about her Korean and Japanese ancestry, and how she's always felt closer to Japanese deities, though she speaks Korean with much more fluidity.
They speak long enough that her coffee goes cold and they go get more together, stumbling onto Stiles at the cafe and inviting him to join their chat. It's the first time Scott's felt so comfortable talking about his origins, even though he still has to wrap his own story in a veil of distance and inheritance. Stiles teaches them insults in Polish and the three of them laugh at their respective terrible pronunciations of the others' languages, and he thinks that he could get used to his roommate and to this girl.
Pro-tip to enjoy the eternal life from Stiles: do things you enjoy or go on a murderous rampage. Or both.
Someone will surely laugh at that tweet, Stiles thinks and grins to himself, as he taps the app shut and scrolls past his phone's many homescreens to find a game or something. Thing is, Stiles really isn't enjoying this class and it's been like a century since his last murderous rampage. And, anyways, people on twitter think he's joking.
He's acting like a spoiled jealous little human, though. He's angry because Scott is the first person in his entire existence who hasn't shown any kind of sexual interest towards him, and even the blushes and stammering fits that Kira gets around him are few and she gets them under control after a second. And he knows it's just because he's not used to not getting attention, because, honestly, he likes Kira and Scott. He really likes Kira and Scott, and he wouldn't use his powers on any of them. He just doesn't understand. The fact that they keep making heart eyes at each other just adds to Stiles' annoyance.
Their shared IM group pings with a notification and the professor glares at him. Stiles grins and mutes the phone before checking the new message. He almost lets out a loud laughter, which he carefully stifles against the back of his hand. There is a picture of Kira with two joints sticking from her nose in a straw-walrus style and a third one held between her teeth, with the caption "so, what is your opinion on recreational marijuana and what are your plans for tonight?"
Stiles corrects his previous line of thought. It's not Kira and Scott liking each other what bothers him. It's that he likes both of them most than he's ever liked any single human in his entire existence, and the fact that he develops an emotional link with the two only people in the universe who are actually able to ignore his powers and reject him? Well, with his luck, he should have guessed it.
Kira knows she shouldn't but she trusts Stiles. It took her a while, but she guessed what he was after a bit of research and a call to an old friend. And, wow, of all the demons one should not trust, Stiles is like in the top three. Still, still, she cares a lot for him and hasn't found anything that indicates that he's doing anything bad or harming anyone; and this is surely a mistake on her part, but she trusts him. And she knows that his powers can't work on her, only work on humans, but attraction is definitely making her biased.
She takes a deep, deep drag, looks at Stiles and chokes on the smoke when she starts giggling. Stiles stops crossing his eyes, puts his tongue back in his mouth and laughs at her, and Scott laughs too. For a creature of the night, Kira thinks, Stiles acts a lot like a prepubescent human. So does her, after all. She tries to stop laughing, but Stiles does more ridiculous faces and Scott's laughter is cut by wheezing breaths and they are all too high to act like adults. Stiles lets himself fall back on the grass, and Kira follows soon after. A second later, Scott takes the joint from her hand with careful fingers and smile.
"Dude, look at the stars," Stiles says, his words a little slurred. Kira decides he's the least intimidating demon she's ever met, and that conclusion makes her start laughing all over again. Stiles elbows her on the ribs and tells her to stop laughing at him, to which she answers with silly noises and moving her arms around, mocking Stiles' way of talking. "Come on, children, behave," Scott says, and drops himself between them, laughing at their complaints.
They've been under the stars for hours, so long that the sky is slowly turning a lighter shade of blue and they feel pretty sober again. Kira's laying with her head on Scott's abdomen and Scott is using Stiles' legs as a pillow. Stiles is on his hundredth cigarette of the night, probably, and in the middle of a very long speech on why "dark and gritty" superhero movies are better than light-hearted action blockbusters. Every time he shuts up to take a drag or breathe, Kira sing-songs "detective comics comics", because that apparently settles the argument.
Scott isn't really paying attention. Stiles is tapping this repetitive rhythm on his shoulder, and Kira's hair tickles on Scott's hip, where his shirt has ridden up. Scott doesn't really like the smell of industrial tobacco, but Stiles has spent the month and a half they've lived together smoking Marlboros on the window of their dorm, and now the bitter scent doesn't bother him at all. He watches Stiles' hand wave the cigarette around as he talks, blurry on his peripheral vision, and wonders if he might like the taste. Before his eyelids finally drop, he hears Kira laughing and in that moment he can swear that her aura looks like a happy animal. It's probably just the sun rising, he thinks, before falling asleep.
Stiles is having one of those dreams. The weird ones that are actually just memories from hundreds of years ago. This time it's Venice, and he's drunk, and his last lover is dead. He liked her, her quick wit and her small hands and her accent. He liked her so much that he forgot that one two many nights in her bed would kill her. And now he's drunk out of his ass and he feels guilty for the first time in many lives. Caring for mortal things is stupid, he tells himself. Then he trips into the water.
He wakes up on the floor. He curses under his breath and sits up, to realize that Scott and Kira are on the bed. Beds, actually. They had pushed the two beds together this morning, after carrying Scott back to the dorm, and hoped that they would not be pushed away while they slept. Stiles wonders if a millennia of sin means that his prayers will never be heard- as he tries to stand on his feet between the two beds without waking the others up.
When he comes back from the cafe, carrying the three biggest coffees available and a bag of muffins, it's almost noon and the day is getting a little too warm. Scott is spread in the exact same position they dropped him on, face down on the pillow. Kira is on the other bed, laying on her side and facing Scott. Stiles notices she's about to fall off the edge but, before he can do anything, she shifts a little and instantly disappears in the small space between the two beds, hitting the floor with a high pitched scream.
Stiles is about to start laughing when Kira sits up, glaring at him with her hair a mess and burning eyes. Literal burning eyes, bright orange from their center."Shit," they say, at the same time.
"I swear, if you say 'what are the odds?' one more time I will kick you in the face," Kira says, and Stiles mock-zips his mouth. They are back at the cafe, while Scott's coffee is waiting on his night stand for him to wake up and and re-heat it on the microwave. Kira is sure that anyone could hear them, but Stiles doesn't seem to care. "So what kind are you? Do you actually have tails? I've never met a kitsune before," he says, grinning like an idiot. Typical: she spends weeks worrying about the moral implications of hanging out with a succubus and the idiot mocks her spirit form.
"I killed the last succubus I met," is Kira's answer, accompanied by her brightest smile. Stiles' entire aura shifts away from her, though his body remains still. "She was on a murderous rampage across London, though, and you seem to be..." she waves her hands around, trying to convey what she means. Stiles' grin widens. "Oh, you like me!" he exclaims, delighted, and Kira throws the remains of her muffin at him. "I do not."
"You totally do! You totally do!" he says, smiling against the rim of his cup. Kira is blushing and he keeps talking, "I'm an idiot. I thought I had like, performance issues. I have never liked someone and had them not like me back! And then you and Scott come along at the same time and you are both so cute and no matter what I do, my powers do not affect you. I don't even think I know how to flirt, I've never actually needed to!" Stiles complains, and a bit of coffee spills over his hands when he waves it in exasperation. Kira frowns at him.
"You've really tried to use your powers on us?" she asks. Stiles shrugs, sips at his coffee and then, seeing that Kira expects an answer, says "hey, I'm an evil creature of the night, did you really expect me to have morals?"
Kira can't help but laugh. She then realizes something, and her laughter dies abruptly. She looks Stiles dead in the eye. "Did you say that Scott and I were the first humans to ever remain immune to your powers?" she asks, her brow furrowed. "Yeah, wha..." Stiles looks at her, his mouth agape, for a few seconds,"oh, shit, that..." he stops at the middle of the sentence, then starts over again, "what are the odds?"
The odds are pretty low, Scott confirms after having warm coffee shoved onto his face and a very awkward conversation. A conversation that started with Kira stuttering and Stiles blurting out, "so, are you an evil creature of the night or a benevolent cute spirit?" Stiles later affirms that he would have pretended to be on acid in case their guess had been wrong, but Scott just laughs and answers with "well, I'm definitely cute, right?"
"What are the odds, though?" Stiles questions again, and Kira throws a pillow at him. Scott sips at his coffee and wonders the same thing. It's been centuries since he came across anyone like him, and he's never met any other demon or spirit kind. There were stories, of course, but he's always chosen to avoid getting his hopes up.
"I have a very important question, though," Stiles says, interrupting Scott's train of thought. "Since Kira refuses to tell me if she actually has tails, do you actually have spots?"
Scott hits Stiles with the only pillow that's still in the bed, and Kira leaves her coffee on the floor before joining him on his attack.