He can already hear what he'll sound like just from the way he keeps staring in Mason's direction.
A lesser man would've offered themselves up like a sheep to slaughter by now but not Mason Hewitt, opting to send deadpan stares across the chaos of moving bodies he finds himself in.
The clammy air and general stench of overpowering cologne is enough to make his eyes tear up. He begrudgingly uses the sleeve of his favorite silk shirt to wipe away stray tears. Then looks down at the resulting stain mournfully.
A body gently lowers itself in the seat next to him, jostling him slightly. " You okay Mase?" Luke asks with the part of his face that isnt nestled in Claires neck.
" Peachy Luke.Super. " they clink glasses.
Satisfied with the status update, the happy couple excuse themselves and leave him to his thoughts.
A few chancers dance their way to him, his sudden obsession with his phone discourages conversation. What he'd give to go back in time to say no to all of this, to look his cousin Sam in the eye and say-
Hell no Sam, person I've idolized since I could walk, I will not let you take me out to cheer me up.I'd like to wallow in perfectly awful post break up misery.
Please and thank you.
Unfortunately that's one spell Deaton and Stiles have yet to teach him.
Mason looks up to scan the room for his cousin and just friends Steve, finds them having a very friendly conversation on the dancefloor. All hands roving and grinding , the opposite of what just friends would be doing.
Looks like he's really on his own tonight. Just him and the weird guy that hasn't stopped staring at him since he walked in.
He stares back, just too see what he'll do.
The stranger smirks in response and sits up, giving him his full attention. He seems amused by Mason's confidence but not enough to come to him. Not yet.
Realising the rules of the game, Mason holds up his drink in salute and downs it. Mr. Stranger mirrors the action and ducks his head in laughter when he notices his target spluttering and in distress. The drink went down the wrong pipe.
Mason loses sight of him while fighting off a really hairy man who had started trying to perform the Heimlich and ended up groping him suggestively. When he looks back at the mans table he and his drink have vanished.
He sighs sadly " Just my luck.."
" Babe...you dont know the half of it" a sultry New Orleans accent breaths right beside him.
Huh.
Not what he expected.
Mason swallows thickly, trying hard to ignore the fluttering in his stomach.
" Babe? " he chuckles " That was fast, what will you call me later?"
The response " Mine." Without missing a beat.
It's cheesey and they both cringe at it. It worked though, ice broken and Mason smiling. Check and check.
They spend the next half an hour talking. His name is Marcel and he has an unnatural obsession with Mason's neck. He doesnt mind though, he's too busy being lost in his gorgeous damn eyes.
What kind of man walks around looking this good staring down heartbroken men in a club? A psycho most probably.
The thought passes his mind just as Sam makes his way back to their table, big tall sticks out in a crowd just friends Steve in tow. He stops all smiling and general happiness as soon as he clocks Marcel, arm over Mason's shoulders, the flirty smile he keeps plastered to his face . He practically loses it the moment Marcel sneaks a quick peck to his little cousin's cheek.
Steve does his best to restrain him but the damage is done. All hell breaks loose and they get thrown out of the club.
Hours later at Masons insistence, the six of them sit awkwardly in a booth nursing a variety of hot beverages at a 24 hour chain restaurant a few blocks away.
It's a tight fit thanks to Luke and Too tall Too blonde just friends Steve. Marcel offers his lap to Mason. Sam promises him a painful death to which he replies " Wilson, babe, I could fit you on here too ."
A mistake. Because it turns out just friends Steve takes exception to his just friends being taunted and called babe.
Shocker.
His big friendly hand wizzes across the table and punches Marcel in the mouth. A loud strange crunch is the only thing they hear. Luke covers Claires eyes and glares at Sam.
" Just friends huh? "
" Not the time Cage." He retorts.
Steve is gently convinced to calm down, Mason doesn't miss the small kisses Sam peppers his arm with that are used to convince him. Just friends indeed.
To everyones ( really just Masons ) suprise Marcel's face is unharmed, teeth and nose intact. He looks over at the younger man playfully and winks " Still pretty for you babe".
Sam snorts incredulously " He's a vampire Mase."
Mason takes everyones expression in slowly, wondering where to start because -
wow, how could he have missed that? Have all his adventures in Beacon Hills taught him nothing?
" Welp" he starts " better than a Chimera or Wendigo."