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We Are So Intimately Rearranged

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Stiles was never a morning person. Sure, he rolled out of bed when his alarm went off, dragged his feet on his way to the shower, and was able to brush his teeth with the best of them, but he was not a morning person. Especially during the summer, especially when he had to open at the coffee shop. His alarm was set for four in the morning. His father would just be getting in from a night shift when Stiles would come down to the kitchen, take his Adderall and chug a glass of water. He would glare at his dad, albeit lovingly, because he had gotten Stiles the job. His dad would smile, patting him on the back as he made his way up to his bed, to sleep.

“The sun isn’t even out yet!” Stiles would call up, his face set in a frown. There, of course, would be no response.

Stiles always showed up with only a few seconds to spare, with Isaac standing, waiting with his his arms crossed.

“I’m here, I’m here.” Stiles muttered, tying his apron as he slammed the Jeep’s door. Isaac, rolled his eyes, but had a small hint of a smile showing as he got out the keys. Isaac got keys, Stiles didn’t. For reasons. Mostly because Stiles lost his, once. He never got new ones.

Cleaning the shop, getting ready for the day was Stiles’ favorite part of the day because he got to pick the music. And it got to be loud. It wasn’t so low that he could barely hear it, it wasn’t boring enough to make him fall asleep. It was the only reason he didn’t mind opening, didn’t mind grinding coffee beans at the asscrack of dawn. They got in at five to open by six, which surprisingly people actually came in, then. It blew Stiles’ mind that there were people in Beacon Hills that were actually up and about before the sun.

Like Allison Argent.

She came in almost every morning, fresh from a run. Sweaty, her hair up in a messy bun with her iPod still playing where it was strapped to her arm. Every time Stiles saw her, he thought about Scott. Scott his best friend who just so happened to have a giant crush on her since she moved to Beacon Hills the year before. Of course, though, she immediately became friends with Lydia and Jackson, the captain of the lacrosse team and the most popular girl in school.

Which was unfortunate since he and Scott were on the bottom of the totem pole when it came to Beacon Hills High. Sure, he was on the lacrosse team, but he was pretty sure the coach kept him on just so the first liners could beat him to a pulp in practice. The same went for Scott.

“What can I get you?” Stiles asked, holding in a sigh. She always got the same thing. Grande Tazo Chai Frappuccino, hold the cream. Still, he didn’t think she would appreciate it if he showed her how good his memory was. It would be creepy.

“Hmm,” She said, looking at the menu as if she didn’t know what she wanted. Stiles raised an eyebrow, his hand holding a grande cup and the sharpie, ready to write it. “I think I want something different.” Stiles’ shoulders slumped. “What do you suggest?” She asked. Stiles’ jaw was open, so he closed it, looking up at the menu that was over his head, tapping his fingers against the counter as he scanned the list of Frappuccinos, gnawing on his bottom lip.

“Well you like Chai, which is tea... so maybe the Green Tea?” He asked, looking back at her. She was smiling.

“You know what I get?” She asked. Stiles shrugged, gulping.

“You come in here all the time, is all,” he said, licking his lips. “If not that then maybe the Cinnamon Dolce Creme. It’s my favorite.”

“I’ll try your favorite.” Stiles smiled at her, writing it, then ringing her up. “Are you excited about our senior year?” She asked. Stiles laughed, shaking his head.

“Are you kidding? Well, anything is better than junior year, right? No more SATs.” Stiles sighed, taking his time making her drink because no one else was in line. Also, he was talking to Allison Argent, which you know, never fucking happened ever. Isaac was looking at him funny but he ignored him, waving his arm awkwardly behind him as if to say ‘shut up, shut up’ because you know, that is really fucking helpful.

“I know, but it is always exciting, new classes, new friends in classes. Change.” Stiles tilted his head slightly, pondering what the fuck she was on about. “What are you taking? Any AP classes?” Stiles nodded. He was, a lot of them.

“AP Econ, AP English, AP Physics, and AP Calc,” Stiles said, sighing. He was getting a headache just thinking about it. He laughed. “Maybe this year won’t be easier than last year.”

“We’ll be in English together, I bet. I’m taking AP English, AP French, and AP Enviro.” Why was she smiling at him, and why was she talking to him still? This was some sort of twilight zone, Stiles knew it. There was no other explanation. “Lydia will be in English with us, too.” Stiles’ ears perked up at the mention of Lydia. He cleared his throat, handing Allison her drink.

“Lydia, great. Awesome. Maybe we could all...” he moved his hands around in a weird circular motion. “We could study or something together.” Oh god, word vomit was the worst thing ever and he had a bad case of it. He needed to go find a cave and live in it until graduation. Like they would ever-

“Yeah, maybe.” She said smiling, taking a sip of her drink with her straw. She nodded, looking at it as she licked her lips. “Your favorite drink is awesome, Stiles.” Stiles’ eyes widened, he could feel his cheeks flush. Oh Jesus, she needed to leave. Now.

“Th-thanks.” He managed to get out. She waved, then left.

There was no way the day could get weirder after that interaction. No way.

Of course, Stiles was completely wrong. When was he right, ever? He was never right because that would be completely out of character for him. Try out for lacrosse as a joke? Get on the team. Not the real team, the team that gets to sit on the bench. The team that got tackled in practice. That was Stiles’ life and he should really know by this point in his life that it wasn’t going to change.

Scott always came in, whenever he got out of bed, usually somewhere between noon and two when Stiles got off. As if on cue, right after noon, Scott walked in. His hair was a mess and he looked like he quite literally just walked out of bed. Stiles bit his lip, wondering if he should tell Scott about Allison, about how she talked to him and liked his drink and said she would study with him and oh god. He decided against it, since Scott wasn’t taking any AP classes. Stiles didn’t want to rub it in, at all. He wouldn’t mention it. Well, not all of it.

“Allison totally ordered something new today.” Stiles said as he made Scott’s usual: an iced coffee with a shot of vanilla and milk.

“How many shots of espresso have you had today?” Scott asked, an eyebrow raised. Stiles made a face at him as he handed Scott his drink.

“Two and a half.” Stiles admitted, rubbing his head. “Did you hear me?” He asked. Scott shrugged.

“So? What does that matter?” Stiles’ brow furrowed.

“What is your problem? Usually you get all starry eyed and start drooling when I tell you what color her shorts were or how her messy bun looked particularly messy this morning.” Stiles took a deep breath, leaning against the counter.

“School starts Monday.”

“Ahhhhh.” Stiles said, sighing. “Make sense. Well, it won’t be too bad for you, you know. Senior year is easier than junior.”

“And we aren’t going to be in any of the same classes.” Stiles pouted, for a second.

“Well we could be in History together, still. And there is always lacrosse. We could write notes to each other and put them in our lockers-”

“Shut up.” Scott said, trying to hold back a laugh. Stiles smiled at Scott as the door to the shop opened and in walked a guy. He had sunglasses on, which he promptly took off and slipped into the neck of his v-neck shirt. Stiles bit his lip, standing up straight and glaring at Scott to get out of the way. Customers before Scott, he reminded himself.

“What can I get you?” Stiles asked.

“An Espresso Macchiato.” The stranger said, pulling out his wallet. Scott was behind him, making a face. Stiles made one back as he said the total. The stranger raised an eyebrow at him, and Stiles coughed, clearing his throat. Embarrassing. Stiles took the money, giving the man change before rushing to make his order.

“I, uh, have never seen you in here before.” He said, trying to make conversation. He looked over and Scott was seated on one of the couches, flipping through a magazine that someone left.

“Just moved back to town.”

“Back?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah, my family used to live here. We moved away about six years ago, so.” He wasn’t exactly an open book, but he wasn’t completely closed off either.

“Well, welcome back.” Stiles said, handing him the drink. The guy looked to Stiles’ name tag, and smiled.

“Thanks, Stiles.” Why the fuck were there butterflies in Stiles’ stomach? Inopportune time to be turned on, rude. His body was rude.

“No problem...” Stiles trailed off, hoping for a name.

“Derek.” He said, chuckling as he walked out. Stiles bit the corner of his mouth, raking his teeth across his lip slowly as he watched Derek walk down the sidewalk and get into a black camaro.

“Fuck.” He whispered. Fuck.


Thank fuck that he got off at two. Scott waited around for him, to the chagrin of Isaac, like always. He tossed his apron in the back of his Jeep as they climbed in.

“I am starving, dude.” Stiles said, starting the Jeep and backing out. “I could seriously eat an entire buffet right now.”

“Raid your fridge?” Scott suggested. Stiles sighed, shaking his head.

“Dad is home, may give me a list of shit to do before school. Like ‘do your laundry’. I hate laundry.”

“You do smell, though.” Scott said, laughing. Stiles punched him, hard. He stopped and got McDonalds, because their fries are the best fries.

“There is a rave tonight.” Stiles laughed.

“I am not going, I have to open again.”

“You could stay out all night, sleep now.” Scott said, clearly not understanding how hard it would be. “Pop an Adderall.” Stiles made a face.


“You are supposed to stop my pill popping, not enable it.” He said with a fry in his mouth. “I could take something and stay up, I guess.”

“It wouldn’t be worse than what everyone else will be on.”

“Why do you want to go?” Stiles asked. “Raves aren’t even your scene.”


“Bah.” Stiles said, shoving fries in his mouth. It was going to be a long day.

They spent the day playing Fallout 3 and Siren . Siren because Stiles actually liked playing games that scared the shit out of him. He ate that stuff up, screaming his lungs out. He liked Silent Hill, Fatal Frame, and Dead Space. By the time night fell, Scott and Stiles were both creeped the fuck out and ready for the rave. Scott, of course, needed to change and shower, since he was still wearing what were probably his pajamas.

Stiles played Call of Duty 4 while Scott showered, because there was no such thing as too many video games. He looked at his watch, groaning as Scott took forever.

“You take longer than your mom to get ready, don’t you?” He called out. Scott walked into his room, flicking Stiles off. “Oh, original, Scott. Are you ready?” He asked.

“Yeah, let me get my shoes on then we can go.”

Stiles could hear the music from outside the warehouse, and he loved it. He loved dubstep, he didn’t even give a fuck what people thought because it kept him entertained. It was fast, and he loved the climb of the music, and the decent down. He loved how it made him want to jump around, expel all his excess energy, which he had a shit ton of to be frank. He had an Adderall in his pocket, but for now he was fine. He wanted to enjoy the music, the people pressed against each other as they danced. He didn’t want to be numb, he didn’t want to be mellow. He wanted to be himself, here.

He’d take the Adderall when he felt like he was going to pass out, probably as he went in to work. Ah, the next day was going to suck, hard.

Inside was hot and sticky. A warehouse in the middle of summer? Yeah, good plan. He was sweating within minutes. That didn’t stop the feeling of euphoria though, being surrounded by people who didn’t care who he was, didn’t care that he wasn’t first line on his lacrosse team, didn’t give a fuck that he worked at a coffee shop. They didn’t know a thing about him and he didn’t know them and that was fucking wonderful.

Someone came up to him, cupping his face, then kissed him. Just randomly, just fucking kissed him. It was a guy, and his pupils were blown wide. For a second, Stiles was worried that they had passed him E, but he knew they would have asked. Ecstasy was the last thing he needed. He was bouncy enough as it was.

Without a word, the mysterious guy was gone.

“Good kisser.” Stiles laughed, looking around for Scott. No doubt, he was probably looking for Allison. Way to leave him hanging, in the middle of a crowd of strangers. A new song started and Stiles started to move along with the music, not caring how he was moving. Hands were everywhere, mouths, clothes were being discarded. Oh, god, he loved raves.

Too bad school was starting.

“Hey Stiles.” A familiar voice said, and Stiles turned around, bringing his hands down from where they were in the air.

“Uh, hey... Derek?” He asked, surprised to see Derek at the rave, shirtless. Stiles couldn’t stop himself from looking him up and down. He didn’t want to stop himself, really. Why? Derek was the one shirtless at a rave. His shirt was tucked into his belt, covering his ass. There went Stiles’ body, betraying him again. Derek grinned at him, taking a step forward, moving with the music. It was climbing up and up and it looked as though Derek didn’t have any intention of stopping. Stiles took the hint, and stepped closer, a hand sliding tentatively over Derek’s side as Stiles moved his hips. Derek gripped Stiles’ waist, and pulled him towards him.

Oh, shit.

Stiles laughed, he couldn’t help it. He out right laughed. Derek was older, definitely older. In his mid-twenties at least, judging by his ability to grow a beard. Well, the stubble... shit. Derek’s lips played at Stiles’ ear and he let out a moan. In public. This was happening in public. Stiles knew, though, that no one cared, here.

“You like that?” Derek asked and Stiles could only nod his head in response. For once, he had no words. He literally couldn’t think of a single thing to say that wasn’t ‘your muscles are like a greek god’s’ because that is something he shouldn’t say, ever. Never. Derek’s mouth was on his ear, then his neck, his hands slipped beneath Stiles’ shirt and circled his stomach. Stiles moved his head, searching for Derek’s mouth. When he found it, he moaned.

Derek opened his mouth for Stiles, pressing his body against Stiles’. First, Stiles was kissed by that random, and now a hot older guy was making out with him. Senior year was going to be fucking amazing if this was how it was starting.

“Want to get out of here?” Derek asked and Stiles’ heart was beating in his throat. He nodded, because fuck yes he wanted to leave with Derek. His eyes widened.

“Scott.” He whispered, looking around as Derek took his hand and lead him out. It surprised him when he saw how late it was already, almost two thirty. Well, he had a bit before he had to be at work. Plenty of time, right? Right. He texted Scott, telling him he had to go and to get Allison to take him home. Solid game plan. He totally wasn’t ditching his best friend. “Uh, what about my car?” Stiles asked as Derek brought him to the black camaro he noticed earlier at the coffee shop.

“I’ll bring you back.” Derek said, opening the door for Stiles. Stiles nodded, getting in on the passenger side. He was getting in a stranger’s car. Well, if this wasn’t the dumbest thing he had ever done, he didn’t know what was. Talk about thinking with your dick, this was just-

Derek’s mouth was on his again, his hand on the back of Stiles’ neck as he sat in the driver’s seat. Stiles put his hand on Derek’s thigh, for leverage of course. They were kissing, for what seemed like forever to Stiles. He was panting and the windows were fogging and he had to remember to breathe. It was easier when Derek’s mouth moved to his neck, because then breathing came naturally. Stiles couldn’t seem to close his mouth though, moaning when he felt teeth scrape across his skin. His hand shifted, higher on Derek’s thigh. A hand was on top of his, moving it between Derek’s legs. Oh, right. Yes. Stiles shuddered, his fingers outlining Derek’s arousal. He licked his lips as Derek rolled his hips. Fuck, this was really happening. Going from never been kissed ever in the history of his life to a random and now Derek wanting him. Alright, alright.

He unzipped Derek’s pants, freeing him. Derek moved his seat back, giving Stiles more room, his hand still on the back of Stiles’ neck. Stiles looked at him, his own erection throbbing in his pants as his hand wrapped around Derek, stroking him tentatively. By Derek’s reaction, Stiles figured what worked on him worked on Derek, too. His confidence growing quickly, he leaned over, ghosting his mouth over Derek’s head indecisively. He trailed down his shaft, not entirely committing yet. Derek moaned above him, his hand refusing to leave Stiles’ neck, applying a small amount of pressure. Stiles bit the bullet, and took Derek into his mouth, opening wide.

“Yes, like that.” Derek said, reassuring him. After a while, he got the hang of it, and Derek started moving his hips, fucking up into his mouth, keeping him pressed down. Stiles held onto Derek’s thighs, letting him. He could hear his mouth making wet, sloppy noses. Sucking and lapping at Derek’s cock. He moaned, unable to keep it in. Derek pulled Stiles off of him, kissing his red, swollen lips and reaching his hand between Stiles’ legs, gripping him through his jeans. Stiles shuddered, gasping as Derek unzipped his jeans, feeling him through his damp boxer briefs. Oh, god, they were damp. Precome dripped from his cock as Derek handled him.

“Oh, fuck.” Stiles gasped as Derek stroked him. He wasn’t going to make it, he wasn’t going to- “Sorry.” Stiles almost squeaked. Derek laughed, licking his fingers as if it was nothing that Stiles came in two point five seconds after Derek had touched him.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He said, taking Stiles’ hand and pulling it to his erection. “You going to make me do the same, Stiles?” He asked. Stiles whimpered, gripping him tight, jacking him fast, like he did when he wanted to come. Derek closed his eyes, biting his bottom lip as he panted, letting Stiles jerk him off until he came. He spilled onto his own chest, which had Stiles’ mouth watering. Without blinking, he leaned in and licked Derek’s chest, wanting to taste him.

Once Stiles’ euphoric climax had subsided, he knew he was blushing. Derek cupped his face, kissing him. A shiver went down Stiles’ spine as he thought about how his mouth must taste like Derek. Derek was kissing him when he had just-

Stiles moaned again, his hand on Derek’s chest. They hadn’t even turned the car on.

“What time is it?” Stiles asked. Derek grunted, looking at his watch.

“Four.” He whispered against Stiles’ lips.

“Shit, I’ve got to shower.” Stiles said, pushing away from Derek. “I’ve got to work.” Derek nodded.

“Maybe I’ll stop by.” Stiles’ heart raced as he nodded.

“Yeah, that... that would be cool.” He said, feigning at nonchalance.

Derek did show up, at around noon. Stiles was awake, due to his Adderall and three shots of espresso and an Iced Cinnamon Dolce Latte that he was carrying around with him all day. He was practically bouncing in place. He knew, though, that if he sat down he would pass out. He only had two hours left and he had to make it until then. Derek didn’t stay long, but ordered the same as the day before and Stiles couldn’t wipe the grin off of his own face. Derek, too, had a smirk that let Stiles know he was having the same problem. This time, Derek used a debit card. Stiles definitely noticed that he had written his number down and he definitely fucking noticed that Derek had put a tip in the tip jar.

Fuck. Yes.