Chapter 3 - Curly Fries and Pining Guys

"Where have you been?" Derek demanded anxiously before Minho could process a single moment of the events that had just transpired.

"Huh? To the ice cream stand and back, just like I told you!" Stiles explained in a single breath, looking as confused as Minho himself felt and pointing a finger toward the ice cream shack in case Derek needed reminded of its existence. "But then I didn't know if you wanted cherry or not, because I know you like sour things, 'cause you're a Sourwolf, but I still wasn't sure, because who ever knows with you? Except me. I know with you, but still!"

Stiles rambled on without pause and Minho realized he'd already found the biggest difference between the odd boy and his twin. Though, the boy couldn't help but wonder that, if Wicked hadn't taken Thomas, if he'd have been just as talkative. The thought brought a pang of sadness and a guilt he had no reason to feel.

Derek probably responded but Minho had long since lost interest in the exchange, his ability to focus impaired by the fact that his wolf kept demanding he run his tongue over Thomas's wrist until he couldn't smell the other wolf's disgusting, lingering scent upon the other boy.

"Well, I guess it's time for meet and greet!" Stiles declared with a clap of his hands, bringing Minho's attention back to reality, where it was unacceptable to mouth one's best friend in any way, shape, or form.

"I'm Stiles, as you may have guessed, I've been told my reputation precedes me," The brunette joked lightly, holding out a hand for Thomas to shake before offering it to Minho.

"And this hunk of man meat is my boyfriend, Derek Hale." Stiles concluded excitedly, making an elaborate gesture with both arms that ended in jazz hands toward the brooding guy who'd had the audacity to actually touch and get his nasty scent on Minho's property. Jesus, his wolf was a possessive shucker, apparently.

Derek Hale merely grunted in response, making no secret about it as he sized up Thomas and Minho, gazing at them both critically, as if evaluating their worth.

"Don't mind him," Stiles assured optimistically. "He may seem like a Sourwolf, but he's actually a huge softie." The teen leaned in and whispered, though his lowered voice did absolutely no good as Derek snorted incredulously at the claim and rolled his stormy gray eyes. Minho could almost swear he caught the man's lips tug upwards just the slightest bit but the stoic, flat look was back in an instant before he could really be sure.

"I'm Thomas," Thomas began easily, his voice light and casual and amazingly not betraying in the slightest the nervous pounding of his heart Minho could so easily hear.

"And this here shank," The Runner continued lightly, gesturing with one hand to where Minho stood at his side, gaze still fixed on Derek and full of distaste. "Is my best friend, Minho." Thomas finished with a winning smile that was doing horrible things to Minho's heterosexuality - Running a bulldozer through it to be exact.

"He's also a hard ass on the outside but a total marshmallow deep down." Thomas added teasingly, letting his humor filled eyes flick to Minho as a smirk pulled at his pink lips and the boy sent a quick elbow into the kid's ribs.

"Nice! We're totally gonna get along great, I can tell!" Stiles declared optimistically, pausing to throw the two Gladers a cheeky thumbs up and a pleased grin.

The scent of Thomas's relief and happiness exploded in Minho's senses, laying all else to ruin as he reveled in its addictive, blissful sweetness and accepted the fact that he was completely and utterly shucked. Drive that bulldozer, Thomas. Who needs heterosexuality? Not Minho. He never liked girls that much anyway. Shuck girls.

"Well, I for one am starving. What ya'll say we take this little reunion to Arby's?" Stiles suggested eagerly and Thomas immediately nodded vigorously in reply, reminding Minho with a pointed pang of guilt that he had failed to feed his mate. His wolf wanted to whimper. He stubbornly told it not to.

"Great! 'Cause there's an order of curly fries with my name on 'em and they call to me: Stiles, why have you abandoned us? We suffer so without your mouth wrapped around us, just like De-" Stiles began but was abruptly cut off when Derek sprang forward to slap a wide hand over the teen's mouth, smothering whatever lewd comment had been about to escape those pink lips.

"Not another word." The alpha warned in what sounded to Minho like a totally scary, legitimately threatening, voice but Stiles seemed entirely unphased and the boy could almost swear that the other wolf's cheeks were tinged pink as he finally pulled back his hand with a final warning glare.

"Curly fries..?" Thomas questioned hesitantly after a moment, voicing Minho's own confusion as Stiles's eyes widened to the size of small saucers and the teen sucked in an appalled gasp.

"You've never had curly fries?" Stiles whimpered disbelievingly, gazing at the pair as if they'd just committed a sin far worse than murder as they nodded simultaneously in acknowledgement.

"Come, Sourwolf! To the wolf-mobile! We must cleanse the streets of these unspeakable crimes!" Stiles declared enthusiastically, grabbing Derek by the sleeve and already beginning to haul him along toward the parking lot. How such a lank and skinny boy managed to move that brick wall, Minho had no idea.

"Stiles, no." Derek huffed exasperatedly as he allowed himself to be drug through the grassy expanse of the park.

"Fiinnnee," Stiles groaned disappointedly. "Come, Derek! To the Camaro! We must get these poor, unfortunate souls some curly fries!" The boy tried but his voice lacked it's earlier vigor and he groaned dejectedly.

"Do you have any idea how incredibly boring that sounded compared to my version, Der?" The teen huffed irritably, earning another eye roll from his companion. Minho was starting to think that was their thing - Communicate affection through intense rolling of the eyes. Notes taken.

"Do you want me to ignore the fact that you just got into a growl-off with some guy?" Thomas quipped teasingly, pausing to smirk briefly at Minho before beginning to trail after Stiles's and Derek's retreating forms.

"That would be great." Minho snorted dismissively, secretly immensely grateful Thomas was willing not to pry. Hey, my inner wolf has decided your it's mate and oh, yeah, I forgot to mention I'm actually a shape shifting monstrosity, by the way. Was not actually a conversation Minho was ready to have here in the park, or anywhere else for that matter. Ever.

"Weirdo." Thomas scoffed jovially as the pair hurried to catch up with their new companions, who had made it most of the way across the grassy field and were now beginning to step onto asphalt.

Oh, Thomas had no idea. Minho was a weirdo now? Well then, let's hope the boy never found out about Minho's constant desire to rub himself all over the smaller male to ensure his scent was left on his mate and everyone else would know the brunette was off limits. Yeah. Let's hope he never finds that out, please, for the love of the gods.

"Now, I know you're thinking, 'Stiles, how did you ever get your hands on a total hunk with such a sexy car?'" Stiles began eagerly as he finally came to a halt in front a shiny, rich looking vehicle that looked entirely too low riding too be comfortable in Minho's opinion. "I'd love to tell you, but I honestly have no idea either." The excitable boy admitted with a snicker and a dismissive wave. Derek Hale merely snorted.

"Because I've never been able to find a way to get rid of you yet." The brooding dude groaned in a gruff, gravelly voice that sounded entirely void of humor, as if that were seriously the reason why he was with Stiles but, again, the younger male looked completely unbothered.

"Yep! I practically live under your skin, you couldn't shake me if you tried!" Stiles agreed enthusiastically as he pulled open the door of the car and made an elaborate, welcoming bow toward the back seats.

Minho was starting to believe that Stiles must simply be more fluent in Derek Hale as he never took offence to the cold comments, maybe he could read something in the guy's bushy eyebrows that the boy couldn't. All Minho for one was reading in their hairy depths as he climbed into the vehicle was, "please trim me, for shucks sake."

Thomas scrambled in after the Runner a moment later, squishing close up against the older boy in the tiny, cramped space the back seats offered.

Minho felt his heartbeat pick up immediately at the contact, a sensation he tried desperately to ignore as Stiles climbed into the passenger seat and Derek moved around the car to take a seat behind the wheel. Though, it was rather difficult to ignore his skyrocketing pulse when their driver had the nerve to catch Minho's eye in the rear-view mirror and shoot him a knowing smirk. Because, of course, the other wolf could hear the Keeper's unobedient heartbeat and had to be a total dick about it. Minho hated this guy already.

"Min, you look like you wanna choke somebody." Thomas informed the boy as Derek finally stopped being a twat and reverted his focus to slipping a silver key into the waiting ignition and bringing the Camaro to life with a powerful roar of the engine.

" 'M just peachy, Shuckface." Minho assured stubbornly, earning a small eye roll from his friend. Though the quick circle of Thomas's hazel orbs was nothing to Derek's elaborate eye rolls of exasperation in which Minho was legitimately concerned the guy's eyes might get stuck in the back of his head.

"You realize you're an ass, right, Minho?" Thomas grumbled distastefully before pausing to stick his tongue out at the older boy. "And you're as stubborn as one too." The teen concluded with a snicker as their ride began to pick up speed, threading in and out of lanes of traffic as if the other cars were turtles.

"Der-Bear, think maybe you should slow down just an itsy bitsy bit?" Stiles questioned anxiously, his voice at least an octave higher than the last time he'd spoke as his hazel orbs widened drastically.

"You said you were hungry." Speed Racer replied curtly, his smirk practically audible in his tone as he merely increased their speed and Minho watched Thomas's twin's fingernails dig into the expensive leather seat he sat upon.

But Thomas himself had his gaze glued to his window with interest, honey eyes trailing the other vehicles they wooshed by and a slight smile pulling at his full lips as he watched. His smell was sweet with the aroma of contentment and had a delicious edge of excitement to it that Minho would absolutely love to just drown himself in for the rest of his natural life.

Suddenly, the younger boy leaned over Minho to get a look out of the boy's glass panel, placing one hand on the teen's broad chest while the other rested against the Keeper's right thigh as he threw his body over the expanse of the back seat. "Have you ever seen anything so awesome?" The brunette quipped, supposedly referring to something out of the window that Minho couldn't be bothered to look at at the moment.

"Nope." Minho practically whimpered, his voice coming out much higher than he'd intended as his dark eyes stayed locked on the boy sprawled across his lap despite his command for them to gaze at whatever had caught his friend's attention. The boy's heart leapt into his throat and his blood was determined to rush lower at the sensation of the other male's hand gripping his leg, so dangerously close to his crotch. Grandma tits. Saggy, nasty, wrinkly grandma tits. Do. Not. Get. A. Boner.

Pin him to a wall, Wolfy demanded eagerly.

GRANDMA TITS. We're thinking about gross grandma tits! Minho countered but he knew he was fighting a losing battle. However, the gods decided to smile upon his tormented soul for once in his luckless life and the car came to a sudden screeching halt a moment later, sending Thomas flailing from his place on Minho's lap and onto the floorboard of the vehicle with a disgruntled yelp of surprise.

"You good, bro?" Stiles inquired quickly, turning about in his seat to gaze concernedly at the boy on the floor, though he himself looked a thousand times more frazzled than Thomas. His hazel orbs were blown wide and his skin looked a good few shades whiter than it had at the park even in the dim light filtering in through the car windows.

" 'M fine." Thomas assured quickly, waving off the other boy as he pushed himself back up and Minho aided him with a hand on his bicep, hauling him upright.

"Next time I'd suggest a seatbelt," Stiles teased jovially but then his gaze turned irritated as he whipped around to glare angrily at their driver. "Since Derek here doesn't believe in speed limits!" The brunette grumbled frantically, earning naught but a playful smirk and yet another eye roll from the alpha in question.

Minho for one was just relieved to be freed from the awkward situation he'd found himself trapped in mere moments ago as Stiles popped open the passenger side door and climbed out with a final huff.

He honestly wasn't sure he could've kept his wolf under control if Thomas had stayed sprawled across his lap a moment longer - Especially considering the fact that he was barely keeping it under control now as Thomas scrambled over the seat to escape the car, putting his perky ass directly in Minho's line of sight in the process and doing horrible things to the boy's self control.

Finally, Thomas cleared the distance between him and the outdoors and Minho pulled himself out after him, relieved to finally be able to stretch his legs out once more as he came to stand beside the vehicle.

"I could smell your arousal from a mile off, pup. Please refrain from creaming your jeans in the back of my car." A gruff, irritating voice growled softly from behind Minho as Thomas and Stiles began making their way towards the restaurant, apparently too immersed in their conversation about the wonders of a deep fryer to take note of the interaction taking place behind them.

"What was that Stiles was saying about how you were similar to curly fries in that," Minho began without looking behind himself. "What was it again? You both suffer when his lips aren't wrapped around you?" The boy countered snydly, smirking as the comment elicited a low growl from the other wolf.

Oh yeah, him and Derek were gonna get along just peachy. That was, if the guy didn't rip his throat out in the next five minutes.

Luckily, Derek apparently decided to refrain from dismembering Minho in a fast food joint parking lot, simply deciding to grumble something about annoying horny teenagers instead as the boy began making his way toward the restaurant after his friend.

The entire place smelled of grease and regret as Minho pushed open the glass door the twins had disappeared into and hurriedly made his way inside after them. The wolf's sense of smell was impaired drastically by the sickening mixture's potent aroma but, nevertheless, he was able to pick out the familiar sweet and tangy scent of his mate almost instantly and hurriedly followed it through the crowd.

Thomas was standing near Stiles at the front of the line, gazing bewilderedly at the menu as if it were written in a foreign language as his brother rambled off his own order to the cashier. The teen's honey orbs were wide with disbelief as he scanned over the options, eyes never resting on anything more than a millisecond.

"Jesus, shuck, I wish Frypan were here." The Runner hissed to Minho as the boy came to stand at his side, letting his own wandering gaze trace over the plethora of variety. There were sandwiches of every shape, size, and flavor, drinks ranging from lemonade to diet coke, not to mention everything you could possibly think to stick in a deep fryer to boot.

"What can I get for you?" A woman with short, toneless black hair cropped just above the base of her neck inquired in an annoying singsong voice, beaming as if the world had gifted her with every pleasure it had to offer.

"Uh." Thomas stuttered out unintelligently, looking like a deer in the headlights as he stared blankly at the thousands of food selections available.

"If you're unsure, I would totally recommend a Rubin with cheesy fries on the side, or maybe a grilled chicken with tater tots," Misses Sunshine Smiles rambled off excitedly. "But maybe you'd be more of a ultimate fries kinda guy and if you are they go amazingly with our lemonade, but it's a summer special so maybe you shouldn't get hooked on it and should just try-" The girl continued quickly, listing off far too many options in far too little an amount of time for Minho to understand any of it and he eventually stopped listening. Thomas didn't get any of it either if his blank, hesitant stare and utter silence was anything to go by.

"They just want two number ones, okay?" Stiles abruptly intervened , shutting up the girl and sending waves of relief over the boy as the spotlight was taken off him and his friend and he felt Thomas relax at his side.

"You're a lifesaver." Thomas admitted graciously as the small group moved down the line to wait for their order but Stiles merely shrugged off the comment with a humble smile.

"Nah, man. You're my brother, right? So I gotta watch out for you." Stiles answered easily and Minho had to admit he felt a small pang of jealousy. The boy had recently found out, through an unfeeling report given by an unnamed Wicked scientist, that none of his family had survived the sun flares or resulting virus, which was how he'd landed in Wicked's hands to begin with.

Admittedly, as much as he tried to be happy for his best friend and truly was relieved Thomas still had living relatives, he was undeniably envious at times, even if the fact did make him feel like a slinthead. He wanted Thomas to be happy and his own selfishness sat heavy with the weight of guilt in his chest.

"And you too, grumpy one, you're here with him, right? So you're honorary family." Stiles continued casually, as if inviting someone into his close circle of relatives was something he did on a daily basis.

"Really?" Minho found himself stuttering out, surprised at how hopeful he actually felt as Derek Hale suddenly appeared out of thin air to stand behind a nodding Stiles.

"Sure. You don't have to be blood to be family, like, a pack." Stiles replied eagerly, leaning back into Mr. Appear Out of Nowhere's muscled chest and turning his head up to meet his steely gaze. "Right, Der?" The kid questioned excitedly, entwining his long fingers with those of The Living Beefcake as he spoke.

Derek broke his gaze off of Stiles to glance first at Thomas then at Minho, giving them each a long, hard stare before his lips twitched upwards in one of those weird, millisecond half-smirks that disappeared as quickly as it came.

"Right." Sir Broody McShuckface finally replied blankly, earning a giddy smile from the boy still leaning against him.

Soon after, the group's food arrived and they were finally able to grab their meal and take a seat. They chose a booth, per Stiles's request, and Thomas and Minho took one side of it while their companions took the other.

Admittedly, as the group began to devour their respective meals - Stiles moaning like he'd been starved for months as he shoved handful after handful of fries into his face and Derek failing to act like he wasn't blushing at the sound - the Gladers sat a little closer together than the wide expanse of plush seating required. They were in a new place, full of unknown things and potential dangers, and it was honestly unsettling to be hit with so much foreign stimuli at once.

Minho took comfort in the familiarity of Thomas's scent and sticking close to the boy was probably the only thing keeping the werewolf from darting out of the place and hiding deep underground for the next few years. Well, there was that and the fact that Minho's wolf was intent on making sure Thomas ate, as if it were sure the other male was about to keel over from starvation in the next five minutes.

"So, how come you guys were so late this morning?" Stiles asked after a few moments of comfortable silence had passed and every curly fry had magically disappeared from the kid's plate in a matter of minutes - How the shuck was he still skinny?

"Our train was attacked by," Thomas began but trailed off, a look of confusion and concentration coming over his face and distorting his pretty - Wow. Minho really just called him pretty. He was gay. He was so shucking gay - features. "Something." Thomas finished lamely, obviously lacking a better word.

Minho caught Derek and Stiles exchange a quick, knowing look, concern and worry etched all over their faces but he never got the chance to ponder the odd occurrence - Mainly because of the fact that Thomas suddenly let out an absolutely filthy sound that pretty much destroyed Minho's ability to focus on anything else ever again.

Slam him on the table. Wolfy encouraged enthusiastically as Minho whipped around to see what had caused such a lewd noise to pass his friend's lips.

Curly fries. The answer was curly fries. Curly fries had managed to make Thomas moan before Minho - Wait. Was the teen really getting jealous of deep fried potatoes?

Thomas groaned once more, low and full of innocent ecstasy.

Yes. Yes, Minho was getting jealous of those shucking potatoes.

Thomas had at least five of the greasy things shoved in his mouth and was staring at Minho as if Jesus Christ, Zeus, and Buda themselves had all just sat him down for a nice little chat and had revealed all the secrets of the world to him in that very moment.

"Minho!" Thomas gasped feverishly, barely pausing to swallow the food before gripping the boy by the collar of his shirt and dragging him closer. "You have to try these," Thomas continued breathlessly, sounding more like he'd run a marathon rather than taken a bite of deep fried wonder as he snatched up a fry and shoved it into the Keeper's mouth before the older boy had a chance to protest.

Minho wished he could've experienced whatever sodium filled ecstasy Thomas seemed high on but, with the younger boy's fingers brushing against his lips, tasting wasn't really an option. It was taking every fiber of his being not to choke in surprise as his friend finally pulled his hand back and stared intensely at the boy, honey eyes boring into him expectantly.

Minho was sure he heard Derek snort somewhere in the background, probably due to the fact that his heart rate had suddenly decided to join the Mile High Club but all he could focus on was trying to force his jaws to chew the morsel as Thomas wanted him to without throwing up everything he'd ever eaten.

"It's shucking good, right?" Thomas pressed eagerly, grinning like a madman as Minho simply nodded in response, not trusting his voice in the least as he swallowed the bite and felt it slide like a pound of lead to his stomach, attempting to catch in his throat at every opportunity.

"Shucking?" Stiles repeated incredulously, one, disbelieving eyebrow quirked and an unconvinced smirk tugging at his lips. That was, until both Thomas and Minho turned to gaze questioningly at him, confusion at the boy's reaction clearly written across both of their faces as Minho shared a bewildered glance with Thomas and felt his own features twist into a befuddled frown.

Stiles burst into a fit of laughter, drawing every single person in the Arby's gaze toward the group's table as he snorted uncontrollably.

"Shucking! Oh, oh my god!" Stiles squawked wildly, holding his stomach and sucking in huge gulps of air in an attempt to reign in his laughter. A few more, sparse snickers escaped him as he leaned into Derek and smacked his hand against the table, biting his lower lip to smother the giggles before he finally straightened up and looked in amused disbelief at the confused boys sitting across from him, pausing to wipe a tear from his eye before he spoke.

"Oh dude, I've got a lot to teach you."