#which i think should be called b*ra and h*ydia respectively btw

[farklelucas]

Brisaac (bc now I'm obsessed with them after your post) for #7.

YES. THANK U. ily anon. (also: thank you for reading my tags lmao.)

send me a ship & number for a mini fic! brisaac & things you said while we were driving

The dirt road is rough underneath the car’s wheels. Every few second there’s a bump or hole to go over. He rolls over a particularly rough one and glances over to the passenger seat.

Miraculously, somehow, Brett is still asleep. His eyes are closed, head tipped back, long neck completely exposed, soft mouth just slightly open. God damn it, how is he that beautiful even when he’s sleeping? And how is he still sleeping? He’s like a sloth. A beautiful, angelic, terrible sloth.

When there’s a moment he’s sure he won’t hit anything, he reaches out with his right arm and jostles Brett. “Hey,” he says. “Wake up.”

He retracts his arm just as Brett wakes, yawning and stretching his long and gangly limbs as much as the car itself will let him. “How romantic of you,” Brett mutters, sitting up straight in his seat. “Waking me up without any rhyme or reason just for my company.”

Isaac feels his ears heat up, but still rolls his eyes. “Ha, ha. Very funny. I woke you up because you’d been asleep for, like, twelve hours -”

“Don’t be a prick, it was only eight.”

“- and I was worried about your health.” He glances over again, and Brett is staring out the window. In a rare moment of complete insanity and at the risk of total vulnerability, he asks, “Hey, you okay?”

Brett hums. “A loaded question,” he muses. He keeps looking out the window, even though all there is to look at is trees and mountains. “Mostly I’m just worried about the stupid ‘pack meeting’ we’re going to.”

At that, Isaac can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Afraid Derek and Satomi won’t play nice?” he asks.

“And Stiles,” Brett agrees, “but I don’t think we need to worry about Scott.”

The pack merger has had Brett on edge for weeks. It’s why Isaac volunteered to drive them both all the way out here to this mountain in the middle of nowhere for this pack meeting. He didn’t think Brett needed to be driving while agitated. Anyway, he’s worried about three different alphas (with three different styles of alpha-ing) trying to work together and merge packs. (Everyone in each pack has a different need, belief, and anchor - Scott’s anchor is himself, for example; Brett’s anchor is his religion; Isaac’s anchor... Isaac’s anchor has changed, no longer rooted in pain in sadness but in something better, lighter, and much more stupid. He thinks of light touches and sparkling eyes, curly hair and soft skin.) But they’re afraid if they don’t merge packs... how will they keep going? Against the dread doctors and Theo’s pack?

Brett still has his head resting on the window. Isaac makes a sharp right and Brett looks up, startled. “You doing alright?” he asks, looking over to Isaac quizzically. “Are you making a detour? Gonna do something stupid like run off to France... again?”

Isaac pulls over on the side of the road, a clearing off the path they were traveling before. “I’m pulling over so you can take over driving,” he says. “You’re thinking too much, and you need a distraction. We only have, like, ten minutes left in the drive anyway.”

All the sudden, Brett gets a look in his eye that’s part mischievous and part smug. “I can think of other, better distractions,” he says.

They both look to the backseat of the car. It wouldn’t be the first time. Isaac sighs thoughtfully. “Well, I suppose no one will mind if we’re fashionably late,” he murmurs. Brett grins, devilishly, and reaches down to tug on the hem of Isaac’s shirt. Isaac just shrugs and let’s him slide it off. The meeting, he supposes, can wait.