The unexpected, abrupt halt is a welcome one. Stiles plants both feet firmly on the ground, stands—and realizes that he can’t actually dismount the bicycle. With Sasuke seated behind him, he would need to swing a leg over the handlebars. There’s no way he can manage aerobics like that and not make a total fool of himself. So he settles for twisting at the waist, turning around to face the other boy. All the humor has bled from his expression; he’s genuinely irritated now, unlike the mock indignation he’s played at before.

“I’ll make this real clear for you,” he begins slowly, as if speaking to a particularly idiotic child. “The accident? Did not obligate me to cart your bitchy ass around London. I offered because I wanted to. And it’s called teasing, not bullshitting. It’s something people do when they want to make someone laugh or lighten the mood. Big shocker you can’t tell the difference! I doubt you’re even capable of holding a conversation without being a rude, awkward, dickbag.”

The mini-rant is winding down. Glare slowly weakening, he shoots Sasuke an uncertain look and then returns to facing forward.

“Believe it or not, I’m actually making an effort to get to know you here. So either screw off or make an effort to meet me halfway.”