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Stiles plops down in the seat across from him and the action is loud in the quiet of the library. He half-slams, half-slides his backpack onto the table between them. The strap falls across the page Boyd was trying to read. Stiles shoos it away like a persistent fly.
"Okay, so, this idea that you don't have any friends? Totally false." Stiles says it like they were mid-conversation, and everything about his rapid-fire speech to the constant tics and twitches of his limbs contradicts the steady calm of Boyd. He jerks a thumb towards himself. "You've got one stuck to you now."
Boyd should have expected this. But he didn't know Stiles well enough to realize that the idea of being alone would resonate so deeply with him.
He expects it to naturally turn into nods in the hallway and maybe the occasional shared lunch but Stiles corners him after school and says, "Call of Duty, bro. You're an army man, you know how necessary this is."
Boyd closes his locker. He doesn't play video games and he's 75% sure that's what Call of Duty is. He's torn between relief that he doesn't have to spend the next few hours trying to think up topics of conversation to keep things from lulling into awkward silence and devastated that his refusal might mean Stiles never makes an overture again. "I don't really play that stuff."
"Oh shit, dude," Stiles says, looking apologetic and it's strained because they're not friends. If Boyd can believe Stiles then it's only a matter of time. "Okay, so, what were you planning to do then?"
Boyd shrugs, wondering if he'll sound boring as hell if he tells the truth. "I was going to run in the Preserve later."
Stiles pulls a face and sighs. "I guess I'll have to get to the point where running 500 feet uphill doesn't completely wind me." He leans up against the lockers and squints at Boyd. "Cool if I join you?"
The open expression on his face says there will be no hard feelings if Boyd says no and that it won't stop him from trying again. It makes the tightness in Boyd's chest ease. His mouth twitches. "Yeah, you can come."
Stiles knows how to be quiet. It comes as a total shock. Boyd suspects it's because he doesn't have the lung capacity to talk and run but the fact that he's not trying to vibrate out of his skin because he can't fill the silence is a surprise.
It's the first time Boyd believes they might actually be suited to each other.
Stiles joins him twice a week for his runs. He can't match Boyd's pace but Boyd finds he doesn't mind all that much.
He doesn't like when Stiles smells like his medication. It's true that he's easier to follow when he does because he's not concentrating on seventeen things at once - the majority of which are all happening only inside his head - but it's not worth the muted way Stiles interacts with the world.
Stiles tells him Scott had tricks to keep him focused when it would get bad. That way he didn't have to take his ADHD meds as often, like starting off 'Ice, Ice, Baby' or 'U Can't Touch This' or 'Baby Got Back' because Stiles had to finish those. But Scott's never around anymore.
Boyd tries not to care how depressed Stiles seems over that. He crosses his arms to protect himself against the sting of feeling second best.
The Pack meets at the old Hale house when Derek's loft is compromised.
Cora's teeth keep grinding together.
Scott goes off with Isaac without a second's hesitation once they disperse. For the first time, Stiles doesn't stare forlornly after him.
He follows Boyd out to the back porch and they sit on the steps in silence. Stiles' knee bumps against his and a warm feeling spreads out from his chest. Boyd bites his lip to stay a grin.
Stiles' eyes are flashing around at every rustle of leaves or the zigzag of a nearby mouth.
Boyd says, "What are the eight phases of the moon again?" Because Boyd knows what Stiles needs now too.