"Oh, it's going to be like that, is it?" Scott said as he looked over at Stiles, knowing that expression all too well. "Bring it," he told him with a nod. Yeah, he would break eventually.
Scott grinned at that and nodded, "I can totally get on board with that emotion," he replied looking down at the plate happily. "Which means we're both cooking a lot, huh?" he surmised with a laugh. "Damn right it won't and thank goodness for that," he told Stiles grabbing a piece of chicken from his own plate and shoving it towards Stiles, "and just to make sure, open wide!" Scott shoved the chicken in at the first opportunity and then patted him on the head, "well done. You won't wither today!" He slid a smirk towards Stiles and shrugged, "I could get used to it, so long as it was the right man," Scott told him happily. "Wanna be the Tramp to my Lady?" he asked sucking in a noddle and letting the end wiggle temptingly.
He hated this bit. The listening as his weird dream-self went about a life Scott could only guess at, with Stiles kicking into high-gear as his wing-man. The whole thing was nuts and felt like another person entirely who was nothing to do with him or his life. There was just enough in there to disturb him. Loosing control over his wolfy-nature, for a start. What if that happened here too? What if he hurt Stiles? And then there was Allison, urgh! It was worse than he'd thought. Then Stiles started telling him about helping him gain control and Scott gave a double-take, "wait, can we rewind that part?" he said looking at him incredulously, "you pitched lacrosse balls at my balls while my hands were duct-taped?" He sat back and pouted a little, "not sure if there's anything okay about that!"