It was only the first week of classes and Stiles was ready to move into the library. The UC Berkeley campus was big, and instead of hauling his ass all the way back to the Foothill dorm, Stiles would rather spend his free time in the stacks with a cup of coffee and a cookie, hunched over his books or surfing the internet between classes.
He, stupidly, decided to take 21 credit hours on top of his undergraduate research apprenticeship program. He hit the ground running his sophomore year, that was for damned sure. He had an hour and a half to kill between his Comparative Societies class and Chemistry, so he decided to drop into the Doe library to kill some time. For it being barely 10 am on a Wednesday, the library was pretty busy. Stiles wished he was still in bed, like one of his roommates, who was never out of bed before noon. Stiles guessed it was his own damned fault for double majoring in History and Anthropology.
Stiles sat down at his favorite table, which, yeah... he has a favorite table from last semester. It was in the corner, it had an outlet near it, and was semi by a window so he could tell what it was like outside. To him, it was pretty much a prime spot. Usually no one was at his table. It was deep in the stacks, sort of out of the way.So when we rounded a bookshelf and realized someone was sitting at his table, he halted in place. His eyes narrowed as he approached it, his head tilted slightly. Someone’s books were spread out, along with an open laptop and a half eaten muffin.There was nobody, but they wouldn’t be far. Stiles frowned as he took a sip of his coffee. He thought about sitting anyways, but didn’t want to be that guy so he sat one table down, farther away from the outlet and not as close to the window. Stiles’ lip jut out in a pout as he pulled a chair out and sat down. He set his coffee down as he got out his laptop and headphones, pressing the power button as he glared at the empty table full of things that weren’t his. By the time Stiles left for Chemistry, the mysterious table stealer hadn’t returned.
Stiles didn’t return to the library until Thursday afternoon, after his Living Through Conflict in Classical Greece class. He had a paper that he wanted to start on for his Early Modern Russia class so he wouldn’t do it at the last minute over the weekend since he had a lot of research to do for his apprenticeship. His apprenticeship was weird. He basically needed to clock in a total of ten hours a week for it, which doesn’t sound like a lot but with his 21 credit hours... he knew if he didn’t stay on top of his shit that he would fall way behind. He already upped his Adderall intake and went up from three cups of coffee a day to four. Hurrah, college. Land of caffeine and no sleep.
Stiles didn’t like writing without music, but he found that music with lyrics distracted him, so he spent a lot of time listen to film scores. Hans Zimmer was his most listened to artist because Stiles couldn’t stop listening to the Dark Knight soundtrack.
Stiles wrote until his stomach started rumbling and the sun started to set. Stiles made a face as he groaned. If he ran, the dining hall would still be serving dinner. Half of of him wanted to rush, but the other half felt like just grabbing a sandwich to go. He had cheetos back in his dorm that he could munch on as he settled in to spend the rest of his night playing Slender. Fridays were his favorite, because he only had Chemistry and his Chem Lab to go to, as well as his apprenticeship. He had two roommates, Scott and Isaac, both of which would probably be going out to a party. Stiles told himself that parties were for the weekend, which didn’t always work out, but he wasn’t really interested in first week of school parties. He knew he was going to have a quiz in Chemistry, so he at least needed to reread the chapter and make flashcards because he knew the class was going to beat his ass.
As he made his way out of the library, he passed someone walking in that had the same bag as the table stealer had the day before. Stiles couldn’t help but glare at him as he walked past. The guy hadn’t even looked twice at him. Stiles forgot to get a sandwich on the way back to his dorm, his mind had gone completely out the window on that one.
Stiles ended up doing an all nighter on Sunday night finishing his paper for his Russian class, as well as studying for Art History and Chemistry. Whose fucking idea was it to have a quiz every day in Chemistry? Stiles wanted to punch his professor in the jugular. All the coffee and pills in the world couldn’t keep Stiles awake enough in Comparative Societies, so after his Chemistry class of doom and horror, Stiles decided that a nap in the stacks was his best bet. He set his alarm so that he would wake up in time for his Forms of Folklore class, balled up his hoodie, and passed out near his table. When he woke up, someone was seated at his table, looking down at him because his alarm was going off. Stiles put it on silent and yawning, waving a bit at the grump that was glaring down at him. If that guy didn’t understand that it was perfectly acceptable to sleep at any time and anywhere on campus, then Stiles didn’t even know what to say to the guy. Stiles gathered his stuff, then set out for class, stopping by to get a coffee first because not only did he have his apprenticeship to do, but he had Art History that night and even though it was only once a week, that mother fucker was three hours long.
Stiles forgot to eat dinner, again.
It was becoming a problem. It also occurred to Stiles that rooming with a Sports Medicine major and a Sociology major may not have been in his best interest. Isaac was always in their room, didn’t get out much, and didn’t really plan to do anything besides go to class and play minecraft. Scott was always playing video games and skipping class, or seeing his girlfriend Allison. Stiles wasn’t sure how he was even still in school after his horrible freshman year, but he was there. Stiles allowed himself an hour of watching Scott play slender before he set out to find food, knowing that Cub Market was open until 1am. Stiles got to bed somewhere between 3 and 4 am, despite having a 9:30 Self & Society in Medieval Europe class which he was five minutes late for.
Stiles wasn’t sure just why this person decided that Stiles’ table was his table but it was starting to get on Stiles’ nerves. They always took up the entire table, too, with books and muffins and his laptop and stupid bag that seemed like it could also be packed with all of his earthly possessions. Stiles hovered for a second before going to the next table over, his usual pout plastered across his face. Stiles was okay, really he was, until he realized that his computer needed to be plugged in or else it would die. Stiles grit his teeth together as he looked over at his table. Stiles took a deep breath and stood up, walked over to his table and cleared his throat.
Yeah, okay, so table hogger was actually rather good looking in a ‘only shave once a week’ way as well as ‘my bag must be full of gym clothes because I am fucking ripped’ way.
“I uh, was wondering if I could sit across from you so I could plug my computer in,” Stiles said in the midst of a defeated sigh. The guy lifted an eyebrow at Stiles, which was semi- standoffish but also made Stiles want to whimper. Stiles held his ground though, and shrugged his shoulders like it would be a good thing to share. Because really? Sharing is caring. “Well?” Stiles asked when he didn’t get an answer.
“Sure,” was all that was said. Stiles grabbed his stuff and plugged his computer in. He popped a tab on his energy drink, because coffee was getting rather expensive at this point, and took a long swig of it, making a face afterwards. They didn’t have his favorite flavor when he went to buy it earlier, which was devastating. He ended up staying at his table until the library closed, way after his computer finished charging. It surprised him that his tablemate had stayed the entire time as well, both of them leaving randomly to eat dinner, which, for Stiles, consisted of a cookie and coffee.
He really needed to eat actual food more often.
Saturdays were the only day that Stiles let himself sleep in, mostly to sleep off the alcohol consumed on Friday nights. He rolled out of bed around one, showered, then headed to the library after eating a real meal (a cheeseburger and curly fries). He walked through campus, passing by people playing extreme frisbee and girls sitting out on blankets with their books open and notes ready. What he really wanted to do was crawl back in bed or play Halo all day, but of course, he had to study and write a paper. Stupid fucking 21 credit hours. There was always a paper, always an exam or quiz, and always reading to be done.
Stiles stopped dead in his tracks as he rounded the stacks of the library. He was never going to get his table back, ever. There was the table stealer, sitting there like he owned the place. Stiles’ jaw clenched. Table stealer looked up, surprise showing across his face. Stiles looked around at other, empty, tables and sighed. Stiles walked up to his table, pointing at the chair he had occupied earlier in the week.
“Can I?” he asked.
“I don’t know, can you?”
Stiles sat down.
“Why do you sit here, at this table, I mean?” Stiles asked as he got out his computer and Classical Greece textbook.
“Is it a crime to sit here?” Stiles scowled at table stealer’s tone, mocking.
“No I was just wondering, I mean, I sat here almost everyday last year-”
“Ah, I see,” he said, sighing. He didn’t move, though. “I sit here because it is in the back, out of the way, is close to an outlet and a window, and because it bothers you.” Stiles’ eyebrows rose, his jaw slackened. “To be honest, I sat here a few weeks back and thought it strange that you kept popping up. It took me a few days to figure out why, but...” he shrugged. Stiles didn’t know whether to laugh or to be angry. He sputtered out a few ‘but’s instead.
“But, but... what the fuck, man?” he all but whined. “Why would you do that?” Stiles asked.
“Because I am a psych major? I was running an experiment?” Stiles narrowed his eyes.
“You were... I was an experiment?”
“I’m writing a paper on you, actually. Today’s findings should be enough, because you’re aware now,” he shrugged again. “I’m Derek by the way.”
“Stiles,” Stiles supplied, gnawing on his bottom lip, his brow creased. “You don’t look like an undergrad.”
“I’m not one,” Derek said as he started typing. “Why are you here on a Saturday, Stiles?”
“Greek paper to start, reading for Folklore to get through, studying for Art History, getting away from my roommate while his girlfriend is visiting,” Stiles murmured as he opened up his notebook to look at his Classical Greece syllabus. “Do you mind watching my stuff? I need to go find a few books...” Stiles got up and walked into the stacks, running his fingers through his hair, yanking on it a bit. He had let it get long last year, for the first time since his mother died. He had kept it shaved close to his head for years after her death, but for some reason last year he felt like he didn’t need to anymore. Now, his hair a mess and stuck every which way, he pulled on it in frustration and confusion as his eyes darted across the titles.
He was being used as an experiment? What a fucking laugh. His OCD tendencies must have been read loud and clear to the psych grad student Derek who must think that Stiles took the whole psychological need to sit in the same spot a bit too far. Stiles growled to himself as he pulled two books from the shelves, then walked back. Derek was typing away, clearly in the zone and didn’t seem to be up for conversing further. Stiles took the hint and started flipping through the books for source material, trying to find quotes that were relevant. After about an hour, Stiles noticed that Derek had gotten up, but had left his things. Stiles had been highlighting passages in his Folklore textbook at the time and hadn’t even noticed the disappearance of his table mate. What surprised him was that when Derek reappeared, he had two coffees with him. He handed one to Stiles.
“Thanks?” Stiles said, confusion written across his face.
“You usually have coffee with you,” Derek said, shrugging as if it meant nothing. Stiles held back a smile as he took a sip. Derek had been watching him, had been writing about him. Stiles flushed, clearing his throat as he pushed the thought from his mind.
“Ah, yeah, I do, don’t I? I’m a bit addicted, which is weird since I shouldn’t be drinking caffeine but what are you going to do? Have to stay awake somehow,” he rambled as he tapped his highlighter rhythmically against his book, his fingers raking through his hair before adjusting his glasses since he forgot to put his contacts in. Stiles dropped his hand from his face to keep from biting his nails in front of Derek the psych major. Suddenly, Stiles was overly self conscious. Derek smiled at him, which calmed Stiles a bit.
“I’m addicted to coffee too,” he chuckled as he started typing again. Stiles grinned, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he looked down at his book and continued reading.
Stiles stayed until closing, not because he had to, but because he found that he wanted to see how long Derek would stay. Derek stayed until they kicked them out. Stiles, his bag slung over his shoulder and hands stuffed in his pocket, stood idle as he watched Derek pull on his jacket just outside the library.
“Do you, uh, live on campus?” Stiles asked, his hand against the back of his neck, his eyes raking slowly over Derek’s body as he picked up both his computer bag and duffel bag that Stiles still thinks is full of gym clothes.
“Just off, actually. I’ve got about a twenty minute walk ahead of me.” Stiles nodded, sighing. “See you, Stiles,” Derek said, turning his back on him and walking south. Stiles’ dorm was north east, less than a ten minute walk from where he stood. Stiles walked back to his room, his stomach in knots.
He spent the evening with Isaac playing Slender, screaming whenever they saw Slenderman. It was a good distraction for a while, until he knew he had to finish reading for Folklore if he wanted to get all the studying for Art History done the next day. Stiles fell asleep on his bed, his face pressed against his folklore book. When he woke up, he had a print from his glasses on his face and a crick in his neck.
Instead of going to the library on Sunday, Stiles opted for spreading out on the floor of his dorm room. Scott and Isaac were both out, surprisingly, so he had room to organize his mass amounts of notecards for the first exam that was coming up. He had to memorize the names of all of the pieces, their origin, and the date. He used up quite a bit of printer ink at the library earlier in the week so that he could paste the artwork on one side of the note card while the information about it was on the other. He popped an Adderall, then sat cross-legged on the floor in his pajamas. Sunday was pajama day and he didn’t care that he hadn’t showered yet. By lunch time though, he was ready to eat. He changed his clothes and donned a beanie, stuffing his note cards in his bag so that he could flip through them in the dining hall.
Stiles didn’t know what surprised him more: the fact that Derek was in the dining hall, or that Derek had smiled at him as their eyes met and motioned for Stiles to join him. Stiles almost tripped over himself as he set his tray down at the table.
“What are you doing all the way over here?” Stiles asked, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat reluctantly as he grabbed a piece of bacon. He liked Sundays because there was brunch, and bacon. He loved bacon. Derek looked at him, his eyebrows raised. Stiles figured this was a semi-permanent look on Derek, based upon how many times he did it in Stiles’ presence.
“I like brunch,” Derek said easily, that half shrug that he did all the time following his words. “I don’t normally eat breakfast so I don’t have anything like this in my fridge. I might as well use the dining hall one day a week.”
“But this dining hall is farthest from...” Stiles stopped mid-sentence. He was thinking too far into things. Instead, he stuffed his mouth full of scrambled eggs and toast. “You working today?” He asked as soon as his mouth was empty enough to enunciate properly. Derek nodded as he ate.
“Not for too long today, though. I’ve got plans tonight.” Stiles stilled for a second, fork mid-air, as he looked at Derek. Derek was looking at him as if waiting for a reaction. Stiles shoved the fork in his mouth and nodded. “You?”
“Studying for Art History,” Stiles said through his food. Rude? Maybe. But Stiles suddenly didn’t care. He felt odd, a pang of something deep in his stomach that had nothing to do with the food he was eating.
“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” Derek whispered with a smirk. Stiles grinned, nodding.
“The Shining, nice. Yeah, I know, I just don’t want to fall behind. I’m going to put in a few hours in for URAP, too.”
“You’re doing the Undergrad Research Apprenticeship?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded. “How many hours are you taking?”
“Is this you asking me as a person, or you asking me as your experiment?” Stiles asked, his head tilted to the side. Derek was silent for a moment, as if calculating.
“As a person,” he answered.
“21 credit hours.”
“And you’re a junior?”
“Sophomore.” Derek looked down at his food and sighed at the word ‘sophomore’.
“Bit early to be overloading your plate, isn’t it?” He asked. Stiles shrugged, watching as Derek slowly stood up. He was leaving.
“No, I’m double majoring and want to finish in four years. I’m on scholarship,” he whispered, watching Derek gather his things. He felt sad all of the sudden, that Derek was leaving.
“Well, pace yourself, then. See you around,” Derek said as he picked up his tray of eaten food and walked away. Stiles spent the rest of his lunch scouring over his note cards, pushing his food off to the side.
The thing about having two roommates is that, in all honesty, it is rather difficult to jack off. If any of them could get away with it, it would be Isaac because he never leaves the room. Stiles, though, has little to no alone time. And he isn’t the quietest person in the world, either.He never was quiet, even when he was younger. It is a problem. 2am showers where the spray of the water muffles his moans is where he strokes himself off. Lately, he has needed it to fall asleep. It calms him, slows his mind, and after spending so much time in the library sitting across from Derek, he needs release.
He thinks of Derek as his fingers slip and slide over his body, stroking himself, his eyes closed. Stiles listens to himself moan, as the image of Derek plays across his mind. His smirk, his eyes, his fingers typing, his shirt as it stretches across his torso as he stands. Stiles thinks about licking his collarbone, his palms spread across Derek’s stomach, their dicks pressed together. Stiles bit his bottom lip to stifle his cry out as he came, making a mess on his hand and stomach, washed away by the shower’s spray. He cleaned himself off with soap, then rinsed.
He got three hours of sleep before his alarm went off.
Chapter by slipintothewater (secondstar)
A map of UC Berkeley's campus can be seen here if you are like me and want visuals :D
Between classes Stiles passed out in the library with his books spread out and his laptop on, his fingers in the middle of typing. His mouth was open wide as his head rest against his extended forearm. He was shaken awake, a hand on the back of his neck. Stiles stirred, licking his lips slowly as he opened his eyes.
“Stiles, don’t you have Art History in five minutes?” Derek asked. Stiles’ eyes opened wide as he looked at his watch.
“Fuck my life,” Stiles muttered as he scrambled to pack his things. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Derek helped him by shoving books into Stiles’ bag as Stiles shut his computer and gathered his note cards. “How did you know? Jesus Christ it is across campus. Fucking hell,” Stiles managed to get out before he practically ran out of the library. He really needed to stop falling asleep in the middle of the day.
After Stiles’ test, he went back to the library, which was still open for another hour. He didn’t go back to study, or to work, but to thank Derek. Stiles made his way to the the stacks, to their table. Derek was there, with someone, talking. Stiles stopped as soon as he saw them. It was a girl with dark hair, dark as Derek’s. She was talking to him animatedly as he sat nodding his head, remaining silent. Eventually, Derek looked up to see Stiles standing off in the stacks. Stiles turned and left without a word, his fingers running through his hair. It was stupid, really. Thinking, assuming that Derek was gay was a long shot. The girl was beautiful, had piercing eyes, and she looked happy. Derek looked comfortable. It made Stiles’ stomach do somersaults, his emotions jumbled together.
He stopped for coffee on the way to his dorm. He had a lot of reading to do before he could go to bed.
“You know, dude, you aren’t the energizer bunny,” Scott told Stiles as he closed his Modern Russia textbook only to turn around and open Medieval Europe book, highlighter in his hand and notebook cradled in his lap. Stiles looked up at Scott, the highlighter cap in his mouth and his hair awry. “Your head is going to explode.” Stiles dropped the cap from his mouth gracelessly and reached for his coffee, long since cold. He made a face, unhappy with the temperature of his drink.
“It isn’t my fault every single professor thinks it is wise to have one hundred billion pages of reading to do per class.”
“There is no way you are retaining any of that information,” Scott said as he watched his video game screen. “No way.” Stiles sighed, clenching his jaw. “Did you even eat dinner?”
“No, I had class.”
“You couldn’t eat before-”
“No, Scott!” Stiles snapped. “I was sleeping.”
“Not here, you weren’t,” Isaac piped in from his bed where he too, was reading.
“I passed out at the library,” Stiles muttered, pulling at his hair idly as his eyes scanned over the same paragraph three times. Stiles groaned and shut his book. “I can’t fucking think anymore,” he announced, putting his book on the ground and crawling into bed. His eyelids were heavy, but his mind was racing.
“This weekend there is this party-” Scott started to say. Stiles moaned, covering his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes from beneath his glasses. “You’re going. You need to unwind.”
“It’s an all day saturday thing.”
“Whatever,” Stiles muttered. He would just have to spend all of Friday and Sunday in the library.
The week passed by without incident. Stiles and Derek silently studied and wrote and read at the same table, neither of them up for much conversation. Stiles mainly because he didn’t want to feed the fire of his semi-crush on the older grad student. Stiles wasn’t sure why Derek was so silent.
“Are you conducting another study?” Stiles asked on Friday evening, breaking their not so awkward radio silence. There went Derek’s eyebrows again. Stiles should do his own research experiment to see what caused so much surprise that Derek’s eyebrows always lifted.
“What do you mean?” Derek asked. Stiles licked his lips, shuffling his note cards for Chemistry.
“I mean, we haven’t said a word to each other since Monday night.”
“You want to talk? Talk.” Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek. Derek sighed. “Stiles, I was going off of your cues,” he supplied. “You have been on edge all week.”
“I wasn’t giving off any cues. I was studying,” Stiles said, over enunciating the word ‘study’. Derek looked at him, his face stoic, then breathed deeply.
“Shouldn’t you be out with your friends, it is Friday night.”
“I am partying with them tomorrow, why are you so concerned about my social life?” Stiles asked.
“Because you don’t have one,” Derek said, his voice clipped. Stiles wondered, for a moment, just how they started arguing.
“Neither do you.”
“I’m in grad school, we’re supposed to cry in a fetal position on the floor weekly about our workload.” Stiles couldn’t help but crack a smile at Derek, the tension leaving the both of them. “And I do have a social life, it starts when the library closes.” Stiles bit his lip as he thought about the girl from Monday night.
“All I do when the library closes his read more and sleep sometimes,” Stiles sighed, resting his head down on the table.
“Again, all work and no play-”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it,” Stiles mumbled. “Tomorrow is a day off.”
“No studying?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded.
Stiles wasn’t really one for Football, having grown up in Beacon Hills where Lacrosse was king, but he didn’t mind going to games and occasionally tailgating. If anything, he liked the tailgating the most.How many other times was it acceptable to be completely trashed before noon? Not many. Stiles stood wearing his school’s colors, blue and gold, holding a red solo cup. He was just shy of his 21st birthday, but it was right around the corner, in October. He had a good buzz going, despite the early hour. Nothing like eating a hotdog and munching on chips as he drank countless cups of beer. He found an empty lawn chair and sat for a while with his eyes closed, relaxing.
“Hey Laura, hey Derek!” Stiles heard Lydia, one of his mutual friends, say. Stiles opened his eyes to see Derek, his Derek, standing there with the mysterious girl, both of them with red solo cups in their hands, dressed in the school colors. Stiles squinted as he took a sip of his beer. Derek was talking to Lydia and Jackson, which made sense since Lydia was minoring in Psychology. Derek’s gaze drifted over to Stiles, his warm smile making Stiles shiver as he stood up.
“Stiles, this is Derek, he is the TA for all of my psych classes, actually.” Stiles lifted his eyebrows a la Derek.
“All your psych classes?” Stiles asked, thinking about how long Derek was in the library. Derek nodded.
“Actually, Lydia, Stiles and I know each other already,” Derek supplied. Lydia looked to Stiles, surprise written across her face. “We have run into each other at the library a few times.” Stiles nodded, mumbling into his cup that it was more than a few times.Stiles couldn’t help but realize that Laura was looking at him, her eyes looking him over as if she was silently judging him. Stiles felt exposed, uncomfortable that Derek’s girlfriend was looking at him like he was on trial. Stiles cleared his throat before he took another drink, his eyes darting back to Derek who was watching him.
“Yep, library buds,” Stiles blurted out when he realized that Derek was waiting for him to say something along the same lines. “Study... buddies.” He mumbled, shaking his head for his idiocy. Derek cracked a smile, but Laura remained unamused. Stiles downed the rest of his drink so he could go fill up. Surprisingly, Derek followed him.
“You going to the game?” Derek asked. Stiles shook his head.
“No, my plans include passing out in my bed once the game starts,” he said, smiling as he immediately took a sip of his newly filled cup. “You?” he asked as he watched Derek take a drink as well. The sight of his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed had Stiles gulping himself, his teeth raking across his lip subconsciously.
“Laura and I have tickets,” Derek said, looking back over at her. Stiles nodded, looking down at his feet as he shoved his free hand into his front pocket. Laura walked over and punched Derek in the arm, a smile breaking out across her face.
“Ready to head back to our car, Der?” she asked. Stiles looked up to find her gaze was on him once more. Derek nodded his head, giving Stiles a small smile before they both walked off, Laura whispering in Derek’s ear as they went. Stiles rolled his eyes as he walked back over to his friends.
Sunday was spent reading curled up in bed, because Stiles didn’t feel good. He refused to take his temperature, though, or move for that matter. With his blankets wrapped around him he found a comfortable way to lay down so that he could easily highlight and read his text books. He didn’t get as much work done as he had wanted to, but it was better than nothing. He had to have his headphones in, since Scott and Isaac were both in the room as well, but were playing video games. Stiles took three naps, which he told himself his body probably needed. By the time he woke up on Monday morning he was feeling a bit better, which was good because he couldn’t afford another day in bed.
Stiles didn’t go to the library on Monday, except for a few hours in the middle of the afternoon to work on the research for his apprenticeship. Derek wasn’t usually there on Monday afternoons, though, so Stiles hadn’t expected to see him anyways. Stiles hated Mondays more than anything because he had four classes, including that damned Art History monstrosity that sucked three hours of his life every Monday evening.
On Tuesday when Stiles stumbled into the library, he found Derek’s things strewn about in the normal fashion, but no Derek. It wasn’t that unheard of, so Stiles sat down and made himself comfortable, sticking his headphones in as he went to work on a paper for his Folklore class as he listened to James Newton Howard scores. What surprised Stiles most when he looked up from a writing with tunnel vision for almost fifteen minutes was not only the fact that he was no longer alone at the table, but also that it was Laura who was sitting across from him and not Derek. Stiles, his eyes wide, pulled out his headphones and looked around them, at the empty tables on either side of them. Laura was smirking at him, her head tilted slightly. She was seated in a chair next to Derek’s computer, which meant that Derek was, indeed, somewhere in the building. Was it bring your significant other to the library day? Because if so Stiles would have bailed.
“Stiles, right?” She asked, her pen tapping against her book idly as she looked at him as if she was staring into his soul. Stiles blinked multiple times before he nodded his head, sticking his own pen in his mouth as he looked down at his keyboard. How was he supposed to talk to Derek’s girlfriend when he spent all of his shower time thinking about Derek? Stiles’ eyes slid to the floor where Derek’s ever present gym back was and Stiles’ mouth twitched. “Derek went to get us some food. Want me to call him to tell him to pick you up something?” She asked, phone in hand. Stiles shrugged, watching her hit a button to reach him. Stiles frowned. He didn’t even have Derek’s number. Shoulders slumped, he chewed on his pen as he looked over what he had written. “Hey, Der,” Laura said, sighing. “Stiles is here and requests that he too, get some food.” Stiles raised his eyebrows, his eyes wide as Laura smiled at him. “He wants what I’m having. And coffee, don’t forget the coffee.” Stiles’ mouth watered at the word coffee. Derek had apparently forgone argument because Laura hung up and slumped down in her chair, looking at Stiles once more. “So, double majoring, huh?” she asked. Stiles tried not to looked too shocked as he nodded.
“Anthro and History,” he said, scratching his head.
“What sort of history are you interested in?” She asked.
“Huh,” Laura said, smiling to herself. Stiles wanted to know what that sound was for, so he took the bait.
“What?” He asked. Laura tilted her head again, which Stiles was equating to Derek’s raised eyebrows. They both had a signature move, it seemed. He wondered, for a second, what his signature move was. His guess was tripping over things or biting his lips, judging by how cracked and bitten they were constantly.
“I am doing my dissertation on Medieval France,” Laura said, smiling. Stiles’ jaw dropped.
“Doctorate?” He asked. She nodded. Derek was dating a PhD student. Fuck his life.
“I am surprised I am not your TA this semester,” she said conversationally as if Stiles’ world wasn’t falling apart dramatically before his eyes. He needed to get a grip on himself. “What history classes are you taking?”
Stiles pulled at his bottom lip with his fingers as he took the pen out of it so he could answer her.
“Self & Society in Medieval Europe, Living Through Conflicts in Classical Greece, and Early Modern Russia,” he supplied.
“Next semester you should take Empire and Alienation: The 20th Century in Japan and Civil Rights and Social Movements in U.S. History, I’m TA for those,” Laura said, winking at him. Stiles could only nod.
“Okay,” he said as he heard footsteps approaching.
“It’s about time, Derek. Starving!” Laura said, standing as Derek walked up, choosing to stand by Stiles with two bags in his hands from an off campus restaurant. Stiles looked up at Derek, who was looking down at him. Stiles felt himself shiver, his mouth dry from being under Derek’s scrutiny. Laura grabbed one of the bags from Derek and rummaged through it to find her food. It was from a locally owned bakery, one which Stiles had never really been to because he didn’t own a car. Laura tossed Stiles his sandwich, a turkey ceasar. Stiles took a bite as he watched Derek sit down across from him and take out his own sandwich, some sort of avocado something or other from the looks of it. The sandwich was pure bliss. Stiles rolled his eyes, not even trying to stifle back the moan that erupted from his mouth as he chewed. Laura was grinning at him and Derek’s adam’s apple bobbed despite him being between bites of food. “So, Der, Stiles tells me he is a history major, you didn’t tell me that.” Stiles coughed, sputtering as he thought about Derek talking to Laura about him. Derek eyed Stiles for a second before he shrugged.
“Yeah, I guess I should have mentioned it,” he said, taking another bite. His nonchalance irked Stiles. Derek was so easy going about everything, it seemed. Laura narrowed her eyes at Derek for a split second, then turned her attention back to Stiles.
“Derek is mad that I decided to tag along today,” she supplied. Derek rolled his eyes and sighed. Stiles was confused, very, very confused. “I told him that at my house, I live in the Chi Omega house, I can’t concentrate because of the undergrads-”
“I told you, you shouldn’t even be living in that house anymore, Laura,” Derek said, perturbed. Stiles sat, sandwich forgotten, as he thought about the fact that Derek was dating a girl getting her doctorate who was also in a sorority.
“So I thought I would join him at the library since I never see him,” Laura said, poking Derek in the side multiple times. Stiles stood up, gathering his things.
“How much do I owe you for the sandwich?” He asked, closing his computer and wrapping what was left of the sandwich back up in its paper. Derek, a frown obviously showing, began to stand as well.
“It’s not even seven yet,” he said,as if it mattered. Stiles didn’t want to be a third wheel, he didn’t want poking to lead to hand holding and heads resting on shoulders and then kissing at their table.
“I, uh, have some shit to do in my dorm,” Stiles muttered, taking out his wallet and handing Derek a ten. Derek gave it back to him.
“Don’t worry about it, Stiles,” Derek whispered. Stiles bit his lip, putting the ten back in his wallet then stowing it away in his back pocket.
“It was, uh, nice to talk to you Laura. I’ll be sure to keep those classes in mind next semester,” Stiles said, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “See you, Derek,” he called out over his shoulder, closing his eyes momentarily as he made his way to another table elsewhere in the library. His dorm was too loud, and he had shit to do.
On Wednesday, Derek wasn’t at the library.
Stiles tried to not think about it meaning anything, afterall, he hadn’t been there on Sunday or Monday. Maybe Derek was all caught up on his thesis? What did Stiles know. It wasn’t as if they were actually friends or anything.
Stiles’ drink of choice for the night was an energy drink and his music of choice was both of the Sherlock Holmes’ scores on repeat. Hans Zimmer is a musical god. Stiles liked typing in time of the music, which shouldn’t amuse him as much as it did. He had two short reaction papers to write up and that was it for the night, aside from his normal amount of reading. He was putting off doing his Chemistry lab because he hated that class with a burning passion of a thousand and one suns, so he wasn’t about to spend his Wednesday night doing something for a Friday lab class.
Stiles was finished by eight, which was new for him. As he packed up his things, he heard someone clear their throat. Stiles yanked out his headphones and looked up from where he was hunched over his bag to see Derek standing there, hands in his pockets. He was empty handed.
“Hi,” Stiles murmured as he stowed away his computer, his teeth raking across his bottom lip.
“Are you leaving?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded, putting his bag over his shoulder and sighing.
“First time since classes started that I was done by eight. I sort of don’t know what to do with myself,” Stiles said truthfully. Derek gave him a small smile. “What are you doing here?” Stiles asked, confusion playing across his face.
“Came to tear you away from your work, but I see it wasn’t needed.”
Stiles looked at his shoes to keep his cheeks from reddening. He swallowed, then looked up at Derek, shrugging.
“What were you planning on doing? Throwing my books to the ground in protest?” Stiles asked, his fingers clenched tightly around the strap of his bag. His voice was clipped, angry, but he wasn’t sure why besides the fact that Derek was standing in front of him when he had a girlfriend who was beautiful and smart and-
“Something like that, yeah,” Derek murmured. “I figured dinner, real dinner, off campus would tempt you from listening to more Hans Zimmer.” Stiles’ eyes widened. “You don’t listen to your music softly, Stiles,” Derek chuckled, motioning towards the door with his head. Stiles thought about a long, hot shower, he thought about playing Skyrim, or Call of Duty, but mostly about Skyrim. He thought about time to himself, about how he could probably fall asleep if he tried hard enough, despite the energy drink.
Then he remembered that Derek was standing in front of him, offering to take him out for non-dining hall food.
“Lead the way,” Stiles said, smiling. Girlfriend or no, Derek’s walk was mesmerizing and Stiles couldn’t complain about his view as they walked. Derek’s car, a black camaro, was parked in the loading zone right outside. Derek seriously stopped by just to pick Stiles up. Stiles ran his fingers through his hair and groaned internally because his body was reacting to this news in a way that was only appropriate if Stiles was pinned down against a bed, or mouths were involved, or fingers, or- fuck Stiles needed to stop thinking about Derek’s mouth or things would become more noticeable.
“Nice car,” Stiles supplied. Derek smirked as he got in and started the car.
“Thanks, Laura and I sort of share it? But I commandeered it for the evening.” Stiles bit his lip and nodded, looking down at his hands. Their relationship was so serious that they shared a car? Shit. “What do you want to eat?” Derek asked. Stiles shrugged.
“Pizza, Hibachi, Sushi, Chinese... Thai. I like everything, basically,” Stiles rattled off. Derek tilted his head to one side a la Laura, as he thought.
“I could go for Thai,” Derek said, looking at Stiles, who nodded in response.
“I love me some Pad See Ew,” Stiles said, his fingers coming up to his mouth as if he was about to bite his nails. He stopped himself though, his eyes glancing over at Derek. Stiles forced his fingers away from his mouth and went back to chewing on his bottom lip instead. “I haven’t had it in a while.”
“Thai is Laura’s favorite, she eats it all the time-”
“We don’t need to eat it if you eat it all the time.” Derek looked at Stiles, confusion written across his face.
“I don’t eat it all the time, Laura does,” Derek supplied. “I eat her leftovers, though. She always has leftovers but never eats them.”
“I love leftovers,” Stiles said, his foot bouncing idly. “Especially leftover pizza. So good.” Derek nodded in agreement as they pulled into the parking lot. They didn’t need to wait for a table and Stiles ordered a Thai Chai Tea, which was his favorite part of the meal if he was being completely honest. Derek ordered spring wraps as an appetizer to share, which had Stiles tapping his fingers against the table erratically.
“How is the thesis going?” Stiles asked after what felt like an uncomfortable silence to his busy, silence hating mind. Derek sighed, nodding his head a few times as he watched Stiles’ fingers move.
“How many classes are you TA for?”
“Two,” Derek supplied, a small grin playing across his face with every question.
“When are they? I mean you’re always in the library.”
“They are in the mornings on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.” Stiles nodded.
“Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?” Derek asked. Stiles’ hands went up to his face, eyes wide before he realized he actually had put his contacts in that morning.
“Ah, contacts. Most of the time I am running late so I just roll out of bed and run. Today I actually woke up on time. If you live off campus, why do you use the library? I mean, don’t you have your own room?” Stiles asked.
“I do have my own room, but I like the seclusion of the library because it is away from the TV, away from my bed. I am removed from my comfort zone so I have nothing to do but work.”
“Unless I am bothering you,” Stiles added in. Derek shook his head, the smile not leaving his lips.
“You don’t bother me and you know it.”
“Well good, because I am not leaving my table.”
“Ah, so it’s about the table, is it?” Derek asked as their spring wraps were brought out and they ordered. Derek got a curry and Stiles got his Pad See Ew he had wanted.
“That table means a lot to me,” Stiles joked.
Stiles couldn’t remember ever being as full as he was after the spring wraps, the Pad See Ew, and the Mango Sticky Rice that Derek insisted on getting to split.
“So fucking good,” Stiles murmured, his hand on his stomach and his eyes closed as he sat in the passenger seat of Derek’s car. “Can’t move, though.”
“That is a travesty,” Derek laughed as he started the car. Stiles groaned a bit as he shifted, over dramatising his food coma. “Which dorms do you live in?” Derek asked.
“Foothill,” Stiles supplied as he pulled out his phone for the first time in hours. “Oh shit,” he murmured.
“What is it?” Derek asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
“I forgot about Lydia,” Stiles said, biting his lip. “We’re both in the same Modern Russia class, she was sick yesterday and missed class. She said she was going to stop by the library to copy my notes for tomorrow....” Stiles sighed as he dialed her number. “Hey Lydia, I am so fucking sorry, I finished earlier than normal and, what? Uh, hold on,” Stiles covered the receiver with his hand and looked to Derek. “Can we stop by her dorm for a second? I can just let her borrow my notebook.”
“Sure, where is she?” Derek said, shrugging nonchalantly.
“Priestly, in the Unit 3 Residence Halls,” Stiles said as he uncovered the receiver. “Okay, Lyds, we’re coming to you.”
“Priestly is right by me,” Derek said offhandedly as he made a u-turn. “I live in the Manville apartments off of Fulton and Channing Way.”
“Oh yeah, that is close. Our two places are at, like, the opposite ends of the earth,” Stiles scoffed. Derek smirked, nodding his agreement. Lydia was standing outside of her dorms, her arms crossed as they pulled up. Stiles rolled down his window and handed her the notebook. Lydia bent down to look in the car, grinning when she saw Derek.
“Oh, hey Derek, fancy seeing you here,” she said, putting her hair behind her ear. Derek nodded once in acknowledgement as Lydia looked back to Stiles. “Hot date, Stiles?” she asked. Stiles could feel his ears turning red.
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Lyds,” Stiles retorted. Lydia’s grin widened as she took a step back from the car. The rest of the ride to Stiles’ dorm was silent, despite the fact that Stiles wanted to word vomit out his feelings about Lydia’s remark and his response and the fact that Laura, where was Laura? Why wouldn’t Derek want to spend the evening with her? Stiles was confused.
As they pulled up to his dorm, Stiles decided to bite the bullet.
“Why didn’t you go to dinner with Laura?” Stiles asked. Derek raised his eyebrows, which Stiles realized was the first time he had done it that evening. It must have been some sort of record.
“Why would Laura be at dinner?”
“Because you two are dating,” Stiles supplied as if it was obvious. Derek laughed. It wasn’t just a normal under the breath chuckle either. It was a full out guffaw that was loud and made his entire body tremble, a hand coming up to his mouth, his eyes closing for a moment before he was able to catch his breath. Stiles stared at him as if Derek was an alien.
“Laura... is definitely not my girlfriend,” Derek said between gasps. “She’s my sister.”
“What?” Stiles asked, his jaw slackened. “No, seriously?” Derek nodded.
“Older sister. Oh god, Stiles, are you serious?” Stiles started to shake his head then he moved onto nodding seamlessly. He didn’t know how he should react.
“Wow, I don’t even... that is my cue to go,” Stiles said as he got out of the car. “Thanks for getting me to do something and stuff, you know, outside of the library,” Stiles called over his shoulder, his bag in his hands. Stiles could feel Derek’s gaze on the back of his head as he got out his keys to get in, his finger fumbling over which to use for the outside door. Once Stiles was inside, he hit his head against the wall a few times just to see if he was, in all actuality, that big of a dumbass.
He was. Good to know.
Laura was Derek’s sister. It made a lot of sense. Hindsight was 20/20 and all that jazz. Most helpful, now. Stiles thought about the dinner, about how Stiles paid for his meal but Derek picked up the appetizer and the sticky rice. He thought about Laura asking him questions and about them at the game over the weekend.
“Rawr,” Stiles said to himself as he made his way to his dorm room. He opened the door to his dorm room and groaned as he dropped his bag to the floor by his bed. He really needed to do laundry, but that meant actually doing laundry and Stiles wasn’t sure he was up for that sort of commitment. If he wanted clean clothes he knew that he should bite the bullet when he had the time to do it. He gathered his hamper and laundry detergent and made his way to the laundry room on the first floor. Luckily, a washer was open. Stiles shoved all of his clothes into the washer, not bothering with separating his colors because he was a male college student, for fuck’s sake; he didn’t have time to do whites in a different load.
While he waited to switch his laundry over, Stiles took a shower. A long, hot shower. For reasons, all of them went by the name of Derek who Stiles still didn’t have the last name of. If he had to hazard a guess he would bet that he came in record timing, but it wasn’t a race, so whatever. He blamed the Thai even though it made no sense whatsoever. He was beyond all sense and reason at this point anyways, why deny it?
“His sister?” Stiles said to himself as he took out his contacts and put his glasses on, standing in the communal bathroom at a sink with a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair weighed down by its wetness. Stiles sighed as he pulled at his cheeks, his fingertips right under his eyes. Stiles made a face as he groaned. “Fucking dumbass,” he mumbled as he grabbed his things and made his way back to his dorm room.
As soon as Stiles’ laundry was finished, he passed out in the middle of doing the Chemistry homework that he told himself he wasn’t going to do until the next day.
On Friday, Stiles was the first to arrive, spreading out over most of the table with his URAP research and a brand new coffee and cookie. Stiles could live off of the coffee shop’s cookies. He liked all of them: the chocolate chip, the oatmeal raisin, the macadamia nut, and the peanut butter. Stiles didn’t care which cookie they gave him and he let them know he wanted to be surprised.
Derek walked up just as Stiles broke off a piece and moaned out the word ‘macadamia nut’ to himself, headphones in, not realizing he had said it. Derek laughed as he pulled out his chair and sat, sighing as he pulled out his computer. Stiles, not realizing he had been the cause of Derek’s chuckle, pulled out one of his earbuds and immediately put the cord between his teeth, letting it dangle.
“Happy Friday,” Stiles muttered, his pen clicking incessantly as his thumb moved at a rapid pace.
“And to you,” Derek said as he waited for his computer to boot up. “What are we listening to this afternoon?” he asked. Stiles swiped his iPhone to see what he was listening to. He didn’t even have his computer on the table, so he was listening to Pandora.
“Some Pandora station I made starting with Passion Pit,” Stiles said. “I decided I needed more lyrics in my life.”
“Adventurous,” Derek said stoically. It made Stiles grin like a madman. “Plans for tonight?” Stiles shook his head, looking at his watch. It was just after three.
“Laura said there is a party at her house tonight that she requires I attend,” Derek said, his fingers beginning to type. Stiles tapped his pen against his notebook as he listened to Derek talk. “You and your friends should come out.”
“Uh, okay,” Stiles said, his earbud falling from his mouth. Stiles scrambled to catch it, but he ended up just letting it drop. “What sort of sorority type thing is it? Do we have to dress like a bro, or-”
“Hah, no. Though I am sure if you dressed like a bro, Laura would laugh.”
“She doesn’t seem like a sorority type,” Stiles said, his brow furrowed. Derek raised his, which wasn’t anything new. If anything, Stiles had expected him to.
“Family means a lot to her, and being away from ours... it was easier on her if she belonged to something as close to a family as you can have in college.”
“That makes sense,” Stiles said, biting his lip. “Did you, uh, join a frat?” Derek shook his head, licking his lips as he looked down at his screen instead of Stiles.
“Laura is enough for me,” Derek muttered, frowning. Stiles swallowed, then put his earbud back in his ear, his concentration going back to his research.
He clocked in ten hours for the week at almost seven. He got out his computer to send his supervisor his week’s hours, then decided to check his email and Facebook because Derek was still working. Eventually, Derek got his attention by waving and snapping his fingers in Stiles’ periphery. Stiles yanked out his headphones immediately.
“Huh?” He asked.
“I’m heading out, do you know where the Chi Omega house is?” Derek asked. Stiles shook his head. Derek took out his phone, which... oh god. “What’s your number? I’ll text it to you later.” Stiles stammered his number out to Derek, who then proceeded to text Stiles to let him know his number. “I’ll see you later then?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded, closing down his computer, stacking his research books up so he could put them away.
“Yeah, I’ll see if Scott and Isaac are game,” Stiles said as he followed Derek out. “Awesome, the dining hall is still open. I’m going to go load up on food.”
“You do that,” Derek said, walking the opposite direction of Stiles. Stiles would be lying if he told someone he hadn’t watched Derek walk away. Totally fucking lying.
The Chi Omega house was on sorority row on Piedmont at Channing way, Stiles realized when he looked up the address that Derek had sent him on Google Maps. It was a straight shot for him to get to, which was good, but would take him about twenty minutes to walk. He, Scott, Allison, and Isaac made their way there, meeting up with Lydia and Jackson on the way as they passed Lydia’s dorm.
When they got there, a little past eleven because someone, meaning Allison, wasn’t ready yet, the party was in full swing. Meaning the house was packed and people were already getting loud and stumbling as they walked. Stiles pushed his way to the back porch where the keg was.
“Five dollars for a cup,” a blonde said. She had a sleeve of red solo cups in one hand and the other shoved at Stiles’ face. Stiles handed over a ten and waited for change when he heard his name and felt a pair of hands wrap around his torso. His eyes wide, he turned his head to see Laura clinging to him.
“Sarah, this is Stiles,” Laura said, patting his stomach as he attempted to fill his cup. “Isn’t he just adorable?” She asked. Sarah smiled congenially but Stiles could tell he wasn’t her type but he was completely a-okay with that because she wasn’t his either. He liked a little something something dangling between the legs. Just a personal preference, though.
“Hey, Laura,” Stiles said, holding back a laugh. “Fancy seeing you here,” he sassed. Laura pinched his cheek, which wow he felt twelve when she did that. Not fair.
“I see Derek invited you like I suggested,” she said, her arm around his shoulder as she lead him around the porch and into the house. Stiles felt like he was on display, everyone looking at him with Laura. He was glad he showered and attempted to do something with his hair, that much he was sure of. Stiles shrugged at Laura’s mention of Derek, not wanting her to know that he had jacked off, twice, thinking about her brother while in the shower. “Bring friends?” she asked.
“Yeah, they’re around,” Stiles said, craning his neck. Stiles eyes fell on Derek and he couldn’t help but smile. Laura’s gaze followed Stiles’ until she, too, saw Derek.
“Let’s go see what Der is up to, shall we?” she asked as she lead them toward him. He was deep in conversation with someone, his hands animated and stance relaxed, smiling as he talked. God, Stiles wanted to ram him against a wall and be done with it. Stiles took a drink of his beer as they walked up, Laura’s hand dropping from Stiles’ shoulder when Derek’s gaze fell to it in the middle of him talking. Stiles looked around, trying to find his friends as Derek continued talking and Laura butted in. They were talking about politics, it seemed, which Stiles really couldn’t care less about which was weird considering that he was majoring in history, but it was the truth. Stiles was a walking contradiction it seemed. Stiles felt like he was intruding on Derek’s social life, that he was stepping where he shouldn’t. These were probably Derek’s friends, his real friends, not people who share his table at the library because they refused to sit somewhere else based on habit alone.
Stiles took a step back, sticking a hand in his back pocket as he went on a search for his friends and also a refill because suddenly his cup was empty. By the time he had a good buzz going, he found Isaac outside, who let him know that Allison and Scott had had a fight and were out front discussing it loudly, and that Lydia and Jackson were somewhere, probably hidden. Stiles understood. Lydia and Jackson had a habit of fucking in semi-public places; it was their thing. Stiles was no exhibitionist, that was for sure. If he was ever caught... shock, horror, and embarrassment. Forever scarred just thinking about it.
Three beers turned into four turned into Stiles doing a kegstand. He found Scott and Allison, newly made up with their arms around each other, inside talking to Erica and Boyd. Erica was in Chi Omega with Laura but an undergrad like them. Boyd was her boyfriend and was on the football team, first string. Stiles would be lying if he didn’t say he wasn’t impressed.
Stiles didn’t really care for dancing, unless he was smashed. Something about alcohol made him want to jump up and down and act like the fool he was. It didn’t help matters that Erica took his hand and pulled him into the living room where everyone else was dancing. Boyd, apparently, liked watching Erica dance with other guys. Especially ones that didn’t want to get in her pants. Stiles was 100% on board with dancing as long as he had alcohol in his cup. Dancing with Erica turned into dancing with Erica and a guy named Danny, which turned into just dancing with Danny. Drunken whispers and mild amounts of groping and three songs later, Stiles needed a refill. Danny stayed on the dance floor, which, you know, was fine. Stiles stumbled as he rounded the corner that lead to the keg, bumping into a brick wall. Well, it felt like a brick wall.
Turns out it was Derek. Derek and his raised eyebrow.
“Okay, Stiles?” he asked. Stiles closed his eyes, grinning as he nodded his head. So drunk.
“Yeah, totally, awesome... fine. Doing awesome,” Stiles said, his hand reaching out and grasping at Derek’s shoulder. “Getting a refill, have to drink my money’s worth.” Derek was looking over Stiles’ shoulder and not at him. Stiles dropped his hand, shaking his head slightly. He needed to get away from Derek before he word vomited how much he wanted Derek’s face all over his face. He had a habit of saying what was on his mind when he was drunk. “Okay, good,” he said to no one as he started for the deck. Derek’s hand came up, his palm on Stiles’ stomach, stilling him.
“I don’t think you need anymore,” he whispered. Stiles frowned, looking down at his cup as he ignored how Derek’s hand hadn’t left his stomach. “It’s empty, though,” Stiles pouted. Derek turned Stiles’ body with his, draping his other arm over Stiles’ shoulder like they were best friends. Stiles’ ears turned a nice shade of crimson.
“Stiles, I’m holding you up right now,” Derek said, his lips brushing against Stiles’ ear as Stiles looked at his shoulder. Derek’s arm wasn’t draped, he was holding onto Stiles, his hand gripping him tightly. “Please don’t drink more right now.”
Stiles liked that Derek didn’t just take his cup away from him. Stiles sighed dramatically, as one does when they are drunk and have to make decisions that they don’t want to. He lifted his cup as if handing it over to Derek. Derek’s hand left Stiles’ stomach, which made Stiles frown even more, as he set Stiles’ cup down on a coffee table they were walking past. His hand immediately went back to Stiles’ stomach. Stiles’ hand covered Derek’s as they walked.
“Do you want to leave, or stay?” Derek asked. Stiles scoffed, but put his head on Derek’s shoulder. His feet were so, so heavy. He wanted to sit. He wanted to sit on the floor, actually. It was an excellent idea and that was what Stiles wanted to do. So Stiles sat. Derek grunted at Stiles’ sudden need to drop to the floor, stumbling forward a bit, almost tripping over Stiles. “Stiles-”
Stiles reached his hand up and pulled on Derek’s wrist, yanking him to the ground. Stiles didn’t let go of Derek’s wrist as they sat. His head was buzzing with the conversations around them, a constant swell of volume as his body hummed and stingled. “Stiles,” he heard Derek say. “Stiles, open your eyes.” Stiles did what Derek told him. He hadn’t even realized he had shut them. Derek’s face was really, really close to his. If he just leaned forward-
“Let’s get out of here,” Derek said, standing and pulling Stiles to his feet. Stiles groaned, but got over it when he realized that his hand was still in Derek’s as Derek pulled him through the party towards the door.
“Do you want IHOP or Denny’s?” Derek asked. Stiles’s head was pressed against the passenger seat window, his mouth open and eyes closed.
“Waffles,” Stiles said, his hand reaching out to open the window. As it slid down he stuck his hand out the window to feel the wind as Derek drove down the street.
“Waffles from where?”
“Denny’s has a lot of bacon,” Stiles mused. Derek laughed. Stiles liked when Derek laughed. “IHOP has better pancakes.”
“But you want waffles-”
“You want pancakes,” Stiles stated. “Pancakes and Belgian Waffles.”
When they got to IHOP, which was thankfully open 24/7, and were seated, Derek ordered two waters and gave both of them to Stiles.
“Drink them both, now,” he said. Stiles didn’t protest. Derek ordered Stiles Belgian Waffles and a side of bacon. He ordered himself pancakes, which made Stiles laugh uncontrollably as he slid down the booth. “Stiles, get up,” Derek called out, his foot kicking Stiles’ lightly. Stiles kicked back, albeit a bit more forcefully. The waiter brought more water, which Stiles downed in a heartbeat.
After the food was consumed at an alarming rate, Stiles felt more coherent, less like the room was spinning and that there was more than one Derek. Stiles wasn’t sure sure he could handle another Derek even on his best day. One Derek was quite enough, he thought.
“You’ve calmed down,” Derek said as they walked back to the car. Stiles scratched the back of his neck, a shy smile creeped across his face.
“I guess I needed to let loose a bit,” he answered, swaying a bit as he walked. “School has me stressed.”
“I can see that,” Derek said, unlocking Stiles’ door before he walked to the driver’s side. Stiles got in and took out his phone, texting Scott to tell him where he was, in case he was looking.
“Holy shit,” Stiles whispered, looking at the clock. “How is it four am? How long were we in there?”
“A while, you needed to sober up some.”
“You could have just dropped me off at my dorm,” Stiles mumbled. “You didn’t need to-”
“Yeah, I needed to,” Derek said. Stiles wanted to climb all over him, in the car, in the IHOP parking lot. Instead, Stiles groaned, rubbing his hands across his face, smacking himself a few times to sober up more. Groping Derek wasn’t a good idea, or so he kept telling himself over and over as Derek pulled out of the parking lot.
“Are you going to be in the library tomorrow?” Stiles asked as they pulled up to his dorm. Derek sighed, shaking his head.
“No, Laura and I are spending the day together.”
“Ah,” Stiles said, opening his door. “Alright, I’ll see you whenever.”
“Sunday,” Derek said as Stiles started to shut the door. Stiles smiled.
Stiles stayed in his dorm on Saturday, finding it hard to find a reason to go to the library if he was just going to be there alone. He cleaned his desk, which he barely ever used, and set up his work station there. He had a coffee maker in his room, and a tumbler that he carried around with him whenever he remembered it, so that he didn’t have to shell out four bucks whenever he wanted a cup of coffee. The thing about studying in his room was that he drank more coffee than normal. He sipped at it like it was tea because it was right there, within walking distance.
By nightfall, he was wired.
“Dude, you really need to blink, your eyes are so wide right now you look like an alien,” Scott said from his bed, where he was laying down facing the TV playing Skyrim.
“I think I may OD,” Stiles said, rubbing his face and hair. “I need to like, I need to run this shit off or something.”
“Go to the gym?” Isaac said from his desk chair. He, as always, was playing minecraft. Stiles nodded more than a few times, pushing back from his desk. He was done for the night, he knew, because he had read the same paragraph five times without even realizing it.
“Gym, running, yes. Good.” Stiles walked over to his dresser and pulled out track shorts and a baggy t-shirt, striping down and changing right there. He found a pair of tennis shoes at the bottom of his pile-o-shoes by the foot of his bed and slipped them on. He grabbed his keys, CAL 1 card to get in, his water bottle, and his phone with headphones, then left.
He jogged halfway to the gym then walked the rest of the way. It was all the way across campus, which was a workout in itself. Once he got there he filled up his water bottle then made his way to the treadmills. He got on the first open one and hit go, foregoing all presets and preordained workout regimes that the treadmill suggested he do. He pushed the speed up to five and went at it, putting his earbuds in and choosing a Pandora station that was fast paced and loud. He didn’t think, really, as he ran. He watched the clock, seeing how long he could run without slowing down. He pushed himself to run at 5.5, then 5.8. He could feel the sweat begin to form on his skin, so he took a drink. He concentrated on his breathing, on his feet hitting the treadmill over and over again, on his heartbeat.
Anything to keep from thinking. Thinking about school work, about essays and exams, about his father’s health, about Derek.
He especially didn’t want to think about Derek.
Stiles just about fell off the treadmill when he felt a hand on his wrist. He opened his eyes, yanking on his headphones to pull them out of his ears as Derek came into view. Stiles grabbed onto the railings, lifted himself enough so that he could put both of his feet on the edge of the treadmill so he wouldn’t fall. He was panting, hard, and dripping with sweat. Derek’s shirt was soaked and he looked... fuck. He looked good. Stiles sighed, puffing out his cheeks as he held onto his sides.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Derek said, giving Stiles an apologetic smile. Stiles waved him off, still not sure he could speak without squeaking out the first syllable.
“Oh, you know, I didn’t really need my heart,” was what came out. Stiles wanted to shoot himself, basically. But Derek laughed, which, yeah. And it wasn’t a ‘I am laughing even though that so wasn’t funny, Stiles’ sort of way that Jackson laughed. Stiles wanted to crumple to the floor and lie there for the foreseeable future.
“I didn’t know you ran,” Derek said, taking a long sip of his water. Stiles watched him do it, licking his lips before he looked back to Derek’s eyes.
“I don’t. I mean, I can? But I sort of had seven cups of coffee today and I actually wanted to get some sleep tonight so, you know, I’m here... running. I needed to run. I had the urge to... run,” Stiles said, sighing at the end because for fuck’s sake he needed to shut up before he ate his own foot.
“How was Laura? I mean, today. Did you and Laura have fun today?” Stiles asked, wincing a bit for prying. He took a long drink of his water to cover it up. He doubted it worked, but hey, he tried. Derek looked down at his hands, his eyebrows doing some sort of cascade of emotions that ended on pained as he cleared his throat.
“It wasn’t really one of those kinds of days, no.” Stiles immediately felt bad for prying.
“Don’t be,” Derek said, dropping his pained expression by giving Stiles a small smile. “I didn’t really explain, we ah, went back home for the day.”
“How far away is home?” Stiles asked, worrying at his bottom lip.
“About two and a half hours,” Derek supplied. Stiles nodded, his hometown was about the same distance.
“So you guys went up just for the day?” Stiles asked looking around, suddenly remembering that they were standing in the middle of the gym, sweaty and panting while holding a normal conversation. Derek seemed to realize it too, nudging his head to the side as if asking Stiles to follow him. Stiles did, keeping in step with Derek as they made their way to the locker room.
“Yeah, just for the day,” Derek said in the midst of a sigh. “It’s been a long day, to be honest.”
“I’m sorry,” Stiles said, though he wasn’t sure why he was saying it, exactly. But it felt like he should say it by the tone of Derek’s voice. Derek swallowed, not looking at him as he opened the door to the locker room. Stiles had all his things, and was planning on showering and changing once he got back to his dorm, especially since he had to run all the way back.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Derek said, shooting Stiles one of his smiles. Stiles was starting to think that Derek wasn’t as cheerful as he seemed to want people to think he was. Derek was grabbing his bag, the one that he always carried around with him. Stiles grinned at himself for being right about it being Derek’s gym bag. Score one for Stiles.
Stiles almost squeaked when Derek took his shirt of in one fell swoop. He hadn’t been expecting that, or a view of his abs, and chest, and jesus fucking christ almighty. Stiles decided to take a sip of water to distract himself as Derek pulled out a towel and patted himself down. Stiles rolled his eyes upwards, making a face that could only be described as ‘why god, why?’. For a moment, Stiles thought Derek was going to shower, but instead he pulled out a clean shirt and pulled it on. “I hate walking around campus in a sweaty shirt. Pet peeve.” Stiles looked down at his shirt feeling self conscious. Derek’s gaze followed Stiles’, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “Do you want a shirt?” Derek asked. “I think I have another-”
“No! No. I’m fine,” Stiles said, his hands flailing towards Derek slightly, as if trying to stop him. Stiles pulled his hands back towards him, then decided to run his fingers through his hair just to do something with his hands that wasn’t pinning Derek against a locker. Derek chuckled as he zipped his bag closed.
They started walking towards the exit, falling into a comfortable silence until they got outside.
“Well, I’m going to head to my apartment,” Derek said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. Stiles nodded, waving his hand dismissively.
“Right? Yeah, same. I mean, I’m going to go shower and think about stuff, I mean. Not think about things. Okay, bye,” Stiles turned and started walking, his hand covering his face.
Stiles didn’t look back out of embarrassment. Once he was back safely in his dorm, he showered, which yeah, he definitely jacked off in the shower because Derek fucking stripped in front of him. How could he not? Stiles didn’t want to think about the number of times he masturbated thinking about Derek. The number was too high to count at this point by his guesstimation. As soon as he was back in his room he changed into clean boxers and a t-shirt then passed out.
Somehow, midterms snuck up and sideswiped Stiles. He felt like he had all the time in the world before they hit, but he was wrong. Suddenly he was getting even less sleep and spending even more time in the library than normal. His apprenticeship was put on hold for the moment, allowing him to totally immerse himself in his world of studying. He went flash card happy in Art History, which was cummulative. He wanted to shoot his professor. Derek, apparently, clenched his jaw a lot when he was stressed. Stiles thought that Derek’s face was going to stick in a permanent frown based on how long it had been since he had last smiled.
Stiles was wearing sweatpants because that was all he had that was clean, and a hoodie. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d put his contacts in, and he was pretty sure that his hair looked like Harry Potter’s. He had his Folklore textbook open and a highlighter in his hand, but he was staring off into space because someone somewhere in their vicinity was snoring. It was three in the afternoon and someone was passed out and snoring and Stiles could hear them over his headphones. Now, Stiles had his music turned down low, because Derek had asked him to turn it down enough so that he couldn’t hear, but now Stiles could hear snoring and there was no way that Derek thought that that would be okay-
Stiles looked up to see Derek passed out over his books, his mouth hanging open. Derek was snoring. Stiles pulled out his earbuds and stood up, walking around the table and patting Derek on the back, rubbing it until he stirred.
“Derek, man, people are staring. Wake up.” Derek’s eyes bolted open, then he blinked rapidly, looking at Stiles and grimacing. “You fell asleep.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Derek said, his voice raspy from sleep. Derek shook his head, rubbing his eyes with one hand. Stiles kept his hand on Derek’s back for a couple seconds too long, because Derek’s head jerked to the side a bit, as if looking to see if Stiles really was touching him. Stiles pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned. Biting his lip he made his way back to his side of the table, reaching into his bag and grabbing his wallet. His sweats didn’t have any pockets in them.
“I am getting coffee. I’ll be back,” Stiles called out over his shoulder. Once he was in line he pulled out his phone to text Derek: ‘tall, or really fucking tall?’ he asked. Almost immediately Derek responded with ‘the latter’.
Stiles brought Derek a giant coffee and a pile of creamer and sugar to pour into it. Stiles grabbed the creamer and sugar from his hoodie pockets putting it in a mound by Derek’s coffee. Derek looked up at Stiles and just smiled. It wasn’t a normal ‘Derek isn’t actually happy but he is smiling because it was instilled into him’ way, but more of a genuine smile. Stiles wasn’t used to seeing it, so he did the natural thing and swallowed down his thoughts and looked away. Self esteem, what self esteem? Derek giving him that look made Stiles’ stomach do somersaults and really, he just wanted to take his coffee and run.
“Thanks,” Derek said, taking a single creamer and two sugars from the pile. Stiles waved a hand as if it was nothing then sat down, groaning when he remembered the endless abyss that was in front of him.
“No problem, dude, seriously.”
Stiles didn’t understand why he always sounded like a bro when he talked to Derek. He blamed Scott.
“So, I was thinking,” Derek started to say, taking one of the little brown straw stir sticks that Stiles had also nabbed and started stirring his coffee with it as he took his time with continuing his sentence. Stiles was clicking his pen as he waited, his head leaning forward just a tad. The anticipation was practically killing him. Which made him think of Rocky Horror Picture Show. Frankenfurter in tights and a garter belt and- “About eating some real food tonight, not those sandwiches you can buy at the coffee shop downstairs.” Stiles nodded, not exactly sure where Derek was going with the conversation.
“So you are going home for the night soon?” Stiles asked, finally adding his three sugars and two creamers to his coffee. Sometimes he liked his black, sometimes he wanted all the sugar in the world poured into it. It was a sugary coffee he needed.
“Uh, no. Not exactly. Well, yes.” Stiles stopped adding his creamer, his hand stilling over the coffee because was Derek stammering? Seriously? “I was thinking I could make us both something.... to eat.”
“So you are coming back here?” Stiles asked. “Because I’ll watch your stuff for you if that’s what you’re asking. In return for foodstuffs. Totally.”
Derek sighed, nodding.
“That’s what you meant, right?” Stiles asked, leaning forward more. Derek ran his fingers through his hair then took a sip of his coffee.
“I meant, I was going to make real food and I want to share some with you. At my place.”
“Oh,” Stiles said, his eyes wide. He looked down at his textbook, the words blurring. “Yeah, duh.” Derek breathed out as if he had been holding it in. Stiles chose to think his mind was playing tricks on him, his mind going back to the night a few weeks back when Derek had stripped in front of him. There was no possible way that that body would get all up in his grill, sort of speak. Not happening. “Food would be good. If I eat another one of those sandwiches I am going to fucking hurl.”
“Alright, good. Think about what you want to eat,” Derek said, looking down at his book as if it was no big deal. Probably because to him, it really wasn’t a big deal. Only Stiles was silently screaming because he was wearing fucking sweatpants and his hair might have magical powers because of the laws of gravity it was currently defying.
“I’ll eat anything,” Stiles blurted out. He really needed to work on his brain to mouth filter because he didn’t have one. At all. “I mean, whatever you feel like making.”
“Alright,” Derek whispered, his jaw going back to clenching and his brow furrowing as his eyes returned to his book. Stiles forced himself to do the same.
Around six, Derek tapped his his knuckles on the table, getting Stiles’ attention. Stiles pulled out an earbud and looked up at him, his mouth hanging open slightly. He closed it as soon as he realized, of course.
“Let’s pack up and head to my place. You can study as I cook.”
“Yeah, okay,” Stiles said, nodding a few times too many as he started shuffling his things into his bag. They threw away their empty coffee cups as they left their table behind as if they had never been sitting there to begin with.
I got an astounding amount of comments for the last chapter and I am pretty much in awe! Thank you all so much! It means a lot to see that sort of response, I hope that this chapter didn't disappoint :)
As always, thank you to lauren and bk for being amazing betas!
Stiles set up his workstation on Derek’s coffee table in his living room. He was seated on the floor with a view of Derek’s kitchen from where he sat cross legged, his head in his hand held up by his elbow against one of his books. He had Classical Greece out but he was barely paying any attention to it because Derek was chopping up a salad.
Stiles usually ate salad out of a bag.
Stiles couldn’t stop staring at Derek’s biceps.
“Do you like carrots? Red onions?”
“Yeah, best salad ever,” Stiles called out, his pen clicking mindlessly in his hand as he watched Derek open his fridge. Stiles felt like a voyeur. He decided he wasn’t allowed to look up anymore. Stiles looked down at his books, gnawing on his bottom lip.
His self-restraint was practically nonexistent, because as soon as the fridge closed his head shot up. Stiles startled himself because Derek was standing over him with a beer extended.
“I think we deserve a break,” Derek said as Stiles took the beer, twisting open the cap and taking a long drink.
“Probably, yeah,” Stiles said, tapping a finger against his books.
“You have an exam tomorrow?” Derek asked, moving to sit on his couch. Stiles moved up from the floor, joining him.
“Yeah, Folklore is tomorrow, but I am studying a bit for Classical Greece as a break. I feel like my head is going to explode,” Stiles said, closing his eyes and resting his head on the back of the couch. Their knees were touching, both of them sitting so that one leg was up on the couch. Stiles played with his sock, his free hand in his lap. His lips were chapped, dry. He bit at them absent-mindedly as Derek tore at the label of his beer. “What’s for dinner, besides salad I mean.”
“My own version of stir fry,” Derek said, sighing. “It’s really easy to make. I take beef, onions and green peppers, and sauté them with soy sauce and put it over rice. It’s easy and tastes amazing.”
“My mouth is watering,” Stiles said, laughing as he wiped at his mouth. Derek grinned, taking a swig of his beer, getting up from his seat on the couch to go start dinner. Stiles’ breath hitched in his throat as Derek’s hand went to his shoulder. It was just for a second, barely constituted as touching, actually, but still. As Derek walked into the kitchen Stiles realized that he was hot, that he didn’t need his hoodie on anymore so he put his beer down and pulled it off, his shirt hiking up a bit as he rid himself of his top layer of clothing. Derek dropped something in the kitchen and swore under his breath. “You okay?” Stiles asked, grabbing his beer and standing up, stretching.
“Yeah, fine,” Derek called out.
“Need any help?” Stiles asked as he walked into the kitchen. “If I read one more word I am going to go cross-eyed.”
“No, just drink and relax,” Derek said, giving Stiles a genuine smile. Stiles leaned back against the counter opposite Derek, a leg resting against the calf of his other, like he was some sort of flamingo. Stiles wiggled his toes, his free hand gripping the edge of the counter as he nursed his beer with his other. He was comfortable, at ease. He felt like he was relaxing, which was a rarity for him. His mind usually never calmed enough for him just to stand, just to be. He watched Derek cook, his head tilted. He didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with endless chatter, though his mouth moved a couple of times like he was about to force himself to.
They put the TV on as they ate. Stiles ate a bowl of salad and two servings of Derek’s stir fry, along with having a second beer. Stiles pulled his hoodie back on, putting his hood up as they watched FX on the couch. He felt his eyelids drooping but did nothing, making himself more comfortable next to Derek.
When he woke up it was eleven at night. Derek had woken him by getting up off of the couch to start the dishes. Stiles moaned, pouting when he looked down at his books. He didn’t want to study anymore.
“My brain is mush,” Stiles called out stretching out on the couch, taking up the whole thing.
“Same,” Derek chuckled. “My exam tomorrow isn’t until 11. I am thinking about getting some sleep and cramming some more in the morning.”
“I think if I don’t know it now, I won’t know it at eight tomorrow morning either,” Stiles said, sitting up and beginning to gather his things. “Do you think I can get a ride back to campus?”
“Of course,” Derek said, drying his hands. “Like I’d make you walk almost forty minutes.”
“Point,” Stiles said, putting his shoes back on then putting his bag over his shoulder. Derek grabbed his keys and they were off. “Thanks for dinner. I really needed that.”
“No problem,” Derek whispered.
“Good luck tomorrow,” he said as they pulled up to Stiles’ dorm.
After exams, it was fall break. Stiles had left his packing to the last minute, stuffing his bags full of any clothes he thought he may wear, making sure that he grabbed his toothbrush, glasses, and deodorant. His father was due to pick him up soon, and he knew that he would want to head right out as soon as he got into town. Stiles made sure to grab his laundry bag too to bring home. It was always easier to wash his sheets and towels at home than it was at college because he didn’t have to fight for washers and dryers there.
The ride back to Beacon Hills was just under two and a half hours and Stiles mostly spent it telling his father about his classes, how much he enjoyed Folklore, how Chemistry made him want to rip his hair out, and how interested he was in Comparative Societies. His father told him the news of the town, which Stiles missed. Small town life everyone knew everyone elses business. It was a double edged sword to him, considering he spent most of his teenage years glued to his father’s police scanner listening in to everything.
“I’d like you to buy your mother some flowers while you’re home,” the Sheriff said, his voice solemn. Stiles nodded, tapping his fingers against the armrest as he looked out the window. It had started to rain, so he watched the water droplets slide down the window as they drove on.
“I’ll get her her favorites,” Stiles mumbled, picking at the armrest. “Drop them by before I leave.” His father only nodded in response. They didn’t like talking about Stiles’ mother, not really. It was still too painful despite the time that had passed since she died. Stiles almost didn’t go away to college, not wanting to leave his dad home alone, but the Sheriff had insisted that Stiles go, to go do what he wanted. Now whenever Stiles came home he felt empty seeing their house with just his dad living there. His room felt hollow, cold. Like it was a ghost of his past. It was like he was revisited by his high school self, someone he no longer was.
Stiles slept for fourteen hours after he and his dad had dinner together. He stayed in bed for another hour, just laying around and texting Scott. Scott lived in Beacon Hills too, but wasn’t coming home until that day because his mom had been working the late shift the night before and he didn’t see the point in coming until the next day so he could spend time with her.
Stiles realized he didn’t really have much to do because his gaming system was at college, so he took his time getting ready for the day. He showered then walked down stairs to see a note left by his dad by the keys to his dad’s car that Stiles could borrow it. Stiles was thankful because he really didn’t want to be a twenty year old riding his bike around town. Stiles went into town, walking around the bookstore, then eventually finding his way to the coffee shop. Obviously he got a cup of coffee. He sat down with a newly acquired book and sipped at his deliciously flavored coffee with two shots of espresso, because he felt like he was still asleep at the lack of caffeine in his system. He barely registered his name being called until a hand was on his shoulder. Stiles jumped, his eyes wide as he looked up to see Laura smiling down at him.
“What?” Stiles asked, closing his book.
“Stiles, what are you doing in Beacon Hills?” Laura asked. Stiles’ jaw tried moving but he was at a loss for words as to why she was in Beacon Hills.
“Uh, I live here?” Stiles said, confused. “Why are you here?”
“So do I,” she said, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards. “I didn’t realize we were both from the same town, does Derek know?” she asked. Stiles shrugged.
“I... I assume no?” Stiles’ eyes scanned around the coffee shop as if Derek would pop up at any moment. Laura watched Stiles looking around but she shook her head.
“He’s not in here, he’s.... well. I’ll be sure to tell him who I ran into,” Laura said, winking. “I’ve got to get back, taking us sustenance. See you around Stiles!” Laura called out as she carried two coffees and a bag out to her car, Derek’s car. Stiles watched her drive away in the camaro. Stiles’ brow furrowed as he he pulled out his phone texting Derek: ‘Just ran into Laura, you’re in Beacon Hills?!’ he asked. He went back to his book as he waited for a reply. It took a few minutes but Stiles’ phone buzzed with a response: ‘Wait, what? You’re in BH?’
‘Yeah, I am from here, dad’s the Sheriff and all that jazz,’ Stiles texted back immediately. He didn’t even care if he should have waited a bit before he responded or not. He couldn’t believe Derek was from the same town he was. It was a weird happenstance.
‘Huh,’ was all that Derek said back. Stiles frowned, that wasn’t the response that he had expected. Stiles left it at that, putting his phone back in his pocket. He stayed at the coffee shop until he finished his coffee then walked across the street to the flower shop. He spent a while looking around at all the different flowers, but did as he told his dad the day before. He always bought his mother the same flowers. She liked freesia, both the look and the scent. Stiles couldn’t stand the scent anymore because it always reminded him of his mother. She always wore the scent, so just carrying the flower was both painful and soothing to him. Sometimes he thought about buying something with the freesia scent but he always stopped himself. He wasn’t going to put himself through that. He couldn’t do it. Buying her some, though, and putting them by her grave was a different story. That, he would always do.
Stiles sat by his mother’s grave, cross legged with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He thought about the hospital, about falling asleep in the twin bed with her, IV’s and tubes connected to her as she wrapped her hands around him. Stiles closed his eyes, his lips trembling.
“I miss you so much, mom,” he whispered to himself. He stayed at her grave until the sun started to go down. When he got back in his car, smelling completely of freesia now, he saw that he got a text from Scott asking if he wanted to hang out later. Stiles texted him back a quick response saying he did, that maybe they could go see a movie. For some reason they never really thought about going out at college, probably because Stiles was so busy. But it being fall break, Stiles didn’t plan on doing much work. He did bring some of his books with him though, but since it was just midterm he didn’t have much to work on. Stiles was just pulling up to his house when he got another text. He assumed it was Scott again, but was surprised when it was Derek.
‘Want to hang out tomorrow?’ it said. Stiles stared at it as he got out of the car and walked up the steps to his house.
‘Sure,’ he answered back. He almost put an exclamation point but he held back. He shook his head at himself as he walked inside. His father was sitting in his chair, a beer in his hand.
“Oh, can I have one?” Stiles asked, grinning. His dad raised an eyebrow at him.
“And how old are you again?” The Sheriff asked. Stiles’ grin widened.
“Twenty for another week and a few days,” Stiles said, shrugging as he stuck his bottom lip out. The Sheriff rolled his eyes and nodded his head.
“Only one!” He called out as Stiles ran into the kitchen to grab one. “Not like I don’t know you don’t drink at school.”
“Me? Drink? Pfft,” Stiles said as he popped the tab. “What’s on TV?” he asked, sitting down on the couch. His dad was looking at him funny for a second, then Stiles realized why. Freesia. “Oh, sorry. I’ll go shower-”
“No, no. It’s fine. Stay,” the Sheriff said, sighing. “I’m watching NCIS.”
“Awesome,” Stiles said, pulling his legs up underneath him making himself comfortable. They ended up ordering pizza for dinner, and by the time Scott showed up to head to the movies, the Sheriff was passed out in his chair.
Stiles ended up staying over at Scott’s after the movie. He passed out on Scott’s floor curled up in an old sleeping bag that he was way too big to fit into. When he woke up his back hurt but he felt good, rested. Something about remembering past sleepovers at Scott’s made him feel more like himself, less like the chronic studier and more like the Stiles who had all the time in the world to do whatever he wanted to do. He and Scott went to their favorite place to eat for a late brunch. They talked about everything from video games, to Allison, to who Scott’s mom was currently dating. Stiles stayed away from talk about Derek, mostly because he had no idea what to even call him. Were they friends now, now that they started hanging out outside of the library?
Stiles remembered Derek’s texts the day before, about how Derek lived in Beacon Hills. It was a weird happenstance. After Scott dropped Stiles off at home he showered then got ready for the day, whatever Derek wanted to do. He wasn’t about to be the one to call. He didn’t know what Derek’s plans were, if he was with family or with Laura...
Stiles didn’t have to wait long though, because Derek called him right as he flipped on the TV, making himself comfortable on the couch.
“Hey,” Stiles said, cradling the phone between his cheek and his shoulder, his head tilting to the side so he could surf the channels.
“Hey, have you eaten lunch yet?” Derek asked.
“Yeah, actually. Scott and I went to the diner on 5th for a late brunch. Remind me to never sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag again. I am getting too old for this shit.” Derek laughed. Stiles grinned, his hand covering his face to keep from blushing. He had it bad. Stiles stopped himself from groaning. “Sorry if that was what you had planned-”
“No, I don’t have anything planned really, just thought you know, since we’re both in the same town... I don’t really have much to do while I am here,” Derek supplied. “I’d like to get away from the hospital, so really I am up for anything.”
“The hospital?” Stiles asked, sitting up straight. “Are you okay? Is Laura-”
“We’re fine, uh, sorry. I have an uncle that is in the hospital but don’t worry about it. Really.”
“Well, I’m free for whenever,” Stiles offered.
“Want me to swing by and pick you up?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded vigorously, standing as he rattled off his address to Derek. It only took Derek ten minutes to get there. Just as Stiles was walking out of the house, his dad pulled in. Sheriff Stilinski got out of his car, in uniform, and walked over to Stiles who was about to get into Derek’s car.
“Where you off to?” The Sheriff asked.
Stiles had his hand on the door, ready to get in. He looked from his dad to Derek, then back again.
“Where are we going?” Stiles asked. Derek shrugged. “Uh, we don’t know?” The Sheriff didn’t look amused. “Dad, this is Derek-”
“Hale, right?” The Sheriff asked. Derek nodded.
“Good to see you, Sheriff,” Derek said solemnly. Stiles looked between them again, gulping.
“Uh, what?” He said, looking mostly at his dad. “Hale?” Stiles remembered that name, it was like a trigger going off in his mind, bouncing around, trying to remember where he had heard it before.
“Have fun you two,” The Sheriff said as he made his way to the house. Stiles got in and buckled his seatbelt. It was going to bother him all day. Derek Hale, Derek and Laura Hale....
“Holy shit,” Stiles whispered.
“What?” Derek asked. Stiles’ eyes were wide as he looked over at Derek, his jaw trying to form the words but failing.
“The Hale fire?” he asked, aghast. Derek’s lips pursed as he held in a breath.
“Yeah,” Derek whispered. “The Hale fire.”
“You and Laura,” Stiles started. “You guys... in the station-” Derek sighed, closing his eyes. When he looked back at Stiles, he looked so tired and completely different than the Derek that can cook and sat across from Stiles at the table in the library. This Derek had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“I want to go hang out with you somewhere, where we don’t need to talk about hospitals, and fires, and how much I hate being in this town. Is that okay?” He asked. Stiles nodded.
“Of course it is,” he whispered because he couldn’t think of anything else to say, not really. Derek’s hand reached over to Stiles’, clasping it lightly for just a second before he retracted it and started the car. Stiles’ hand tingled for the entire car ride.
They stopped at the coffee shop, which was a given, and bought coffees and pastries. Then they went to the park. Stiles sat down on a park bench by a pond and watched the geese, Derek joined him, their thighs pressing together as they sat in silence. Stiles didn’t really know how to start a conversation because his mind was reeling over the fact that this Derek was the Derek that he had seen crying in the Sheriff’s office, his dad’s coat clung around him as the Sheriff talked to a younger Laura. They didn’t even look like themselves. Stiles had been there, but younger. Almost too young to realize what really happened.
Eventually, Derek sighed audibly, looking to Stiles, his empty coffee cup rolling between his hands as he sat hunched over.
“You look like you’re about to explode if you don’t ask me something soon,” Derek said, his voice low. He sounded exhausted.
“When you came home just for the day-”
“The anniversary of my family’s death,” Derek provided. “We always come home for it.” Stiles shut his mouth, breaking eye contact with him. His heart was beating in his chest, but it reverberated throughout his body. He could physically feel it beating and he ached. He ached for Derek, for what he lost. Stiles closed his eyes as he recalled Derek’s comment about Laura needing a family and finding it in her sorority. He also remembered Derek’s remark about how he only needed Laura. Stiles sucked on his bottom lip, taking a deep breath. Derek sat up and suddenly his hand was on Stiles’ neck, his thumb sliding across his skin. “Hey, Stiles? Stiles, it’s okay, really. Laura and I are okay, we’re fine.”
“Okay and fine aren’t words that describe a content existence, Derek,” Stiles mumbled. “I know because I use the same words. They’re a mask.” Derek didn’t drop his hand, but he did sit up a little straighter. “You don’t need to lie to me.”
“I know I don’t. I just...” Derek’s hand dropped from Stiles’ neck as if he just realized that was where it was, as if it burned him. Derek stood. “Come on, I have to meet Laura back at the hospital soon.”
“Why do you go there, I mean... you don’t need to tell me, but-”
“My uncle. He survived the fire, he... we visit him. He’s the only reason we ever come back here, really.” Stiles nodded, standing up.
“If this town held the same memories for me, I wouldn’t want to be here either.”
They drove back to Stiles’ in silence. As they pulled up, Stiles turned to Derek.
“Sorry the afternoon got so....” Stiles trailed off. Derek shrugged as if it was nothing.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll see you at school.”
“Yeah, alright,” Stiles said as he got out of the car. He spent the rest of the evening watching syndicated TV with his dad, curled up on the couch, biting his nails until there was nothing left for him to pick at.
This chapter got a lot more "omg feels" than the rest of this fic has been. Nanowrimo will do that to you, though.
You know what sucks? Pulling a muscle in your hand when you are a painter for a living. Nano is on hold until I can stop coddling my hand like an injured animal.
thank you again for all your comments, gah. I don't even know what to say. I am literally shocked at the response this has gotten. <3
“So, you and Derek Hale know each other?” the Sheriff asked the next day at dinner. Stiles sputtered, his drink spilling from his mouth a bit. The question had sideswiped him, considering they were just talking about the Mets game that was showing on the TV in the restaurant they were eating at. His dad had always liked pub food best, so that was where they were. Stiles wiped at his mouth with his hand.
“Yeah, we go to the same school,” Stiles supplied, biting on the inside of his cheek. “We study together.”
“Uh huh,” his dad said, eating a few of Stiles’ fries. Stiles made a face at his dad. He knew him too well, that was for sure. “And?” Stiles shrugged, shrinking down in his seat. He felt sixteen again, after the first time his dad walked in on Stiles and someone. That someone, of course, being a boy. Stiles had been mortified. Having a parent walk in while you were getting a blowjob was high up on the scale of ‘Jesus Christ never again’.
“And...” Stiles said, waving a hand around. “And nothing, dad. We’re friends... not even friends?” Stiles ran his hand through his hair. “Seriously, dad. I didn’t even know he was a Hale.”
“I got that impression,” the Sheriff provided. Stiles ate a fry.
“What happened?” Stiles asked.
“About what, son?” his dad asked.
“The fire.” His dad sighed, shaking his head as he took a sip of his beer. Stiles watched him, waiting not so patiently for a response.
“Not much to tell. Arson, but the case was never closed. He lost a lot of family that day. A lot.” Stiles frowned, picking at his hamburger. He wasn’t hungry anymore.
Later that night, Stiles’ dad told him that he had to drive him back the next day, a day early, because he was working a double shift on Sunday. Stiles called Scott, seeing if he could get a ride back with him.
“I’m coming in really early on Monday, before my first class at one. You’d miss all your Monday classes if you came back with me.” Stiles groaned, telling Scott he’d find something else. Stiles tapped his fingers against his phone, staring at Derek’s name for at least five minutes before calling his number.
“Stiles?” Derek asked, his voice sounding groggy. Stiles looked at his clock. It was one in the morning.
“Shit, sorry. I didn’t even- shit,” he mumbled. “Sorry, I’ll call you tomorrow?”
“No, no. It’s fine.” Stiles could hear Derek shuffling around, maybe getting out of bed. Derek breathed heavily into the phone. Stiles heard a door shut. “What is it?” he asked.
“I, uh, was wondering if there was room for me in the Camaro, you know, as a ride back to school? My dad has to work late Sunday so that means I’d have to go back on Saturday but I really want to spend that last day with him-”
“Yeah, Stiles. That’s fine, we’ve got room.”
“We,” Stiles said, his eyes widening when he remembered Laura. Laura would be in the car too.
“Yeah, Laura wants to leave Beacon Hills around noon, is that okay with you?”
“Perfect, actually. Goodbye breakfast is the best kind of breakfast.”
“Alright, sounds good,” Derek whispered. Stiles could tell that Derek was smiling by the inflection in his voice.
The weekend passed by in a blur. He spent a lot of time with Scott when his dad was at work, which felt right. It felt like they reverted back to their teenage selves, the ones that spent every minute together. Stiles hadn’t gotten time to spend with Scott since last year, really, because Stiles did summer school, taking a full load of summer courses to stay ahead. Scott had stayed home with his mom. Despite being roommates, they really didn’t spend much time together anymore. Stiles was busy, Scott had Allison, and they both usually passed out before they really got to hang out anymore.
Breakfast with his dad before he headed out was good. He watched his dad make homemade waffles from his mother’s recipe book, eaten along with fresh strawberries and whipped cream. Stiles was in heaven with every mouthful.
“You call me once you’re on campus, you hear?” his dad said as he put on his uniform jacket. Stiles nodded, fumbling around on his phone as he waited to be picked up by Derek and Laura. “You make sure you give them gas money, too. Here,” his dad said, handing Stiles a ten. “You give them another ten.” Stiles nodded, pocketing the cash.
“Yeah, dad. Got it.”
“Now, I know you can’t come home for your birthday, so I’m planning on coming up for it.” Stiles’ eyebrows rose.
“It’s not everyday a man can have a drink with his son at a bar on his twenty-first,” his dad said, smiling. Stiles beamed.
“I’d love that, dad. Seriously.”
“I’ll see you in a few weeks then,” the Sheriff said as he leaned over and kissed Stiles on the forehead, like he did when Stiles was little. He patted Stiles on the back, then was off to work. Stiles messed around on his phone until he heard a horn beep three times in quick succession. He grabbed his things and rushed out of the house just as another beep sounded off.
Laura was behind the wheel.
“Get in, loser!” Laura called out, a grin plastered on her face. Derek climbed out of the car as the trunk popped open. He took Stiles’ bags from him, stowing them away and closing the trunk without a word. Stiles crawled into the back seat then waited for Derek to get back in before he said anything.
“Thanks for the ride,” he said, buckling his seatbelt.
“No problem,” Laura said, messing with the music on her iPod. “The more the merrier, right Der?” Laura said, elbowing him. Derek grumbled. Laura shot him a look, then craned her neck to look at Stiles. “Derek is in a bit of a mood today, aren’t you?”
“Shut up, Laura,” Derek hissed. Stiles raised his eyebrows. He had never been around Derek when he was angry, or in a sour mood.
“Touchy, little brother,” Laura said as she pulled out of the driveway. Stiles had every intention of studying on the way back to Berkeley, but between Laura chatting and Derek’s snappy retorts, Stiles couldn’t pay attention to his book long enough to absorb anything.
“So, Stiles, tell me because I’ve been really curious-”
“Laura, don’t,” Derek interrupted her. Stiles looked back and forth between them, confused.
“What?” Stiles asked. Laura flicked Derek in the ear. She got a growl in retribution.
“So is it just boys, or do you straddle the fence?” she asked. Stiles’ jaw dropped.
“Don’t answer her if you don’t want to,” Derek supplied, glaring daggers at his sister. Stiles cracked a grin shrugging. He had no problem talking to Laura about his sexuality. He had been out since he was sixteen and caught with his pants down around his ankles, so....
“Just guys. Well, I liked Lydia for years, but I think she was really the only girl I ever found attractive, really,” Stiles mumbled, looking down at his hands. He was fine telling Laura about himself, but it was Derek who he was more concerned about. He felt like he was treading lightly with something, tiptoeing around an issue or secret.
“Go on, we have like, an hour before we reach Berkeley,” Laura said, waving her hand like she wanted Stiles to continue. Stiles swallowed. He knew his ears were turning red, they always did when he got embarrassed. Not that he had anything to be embarrassed about, only the fact that the only guy he’d been able to jack off to since school started was in the car with him and he was apparently about to spill his past out like he wanted everyone to know everything about him.
“Obviously she uh, wasn’t interested,” Stiles said, not sure what to say. “But guys, I like guys? There isn’t really anything-”
“So about boyfriends? Anyone?” Laura asked. Stiles didn’t see her look to Derek whose jaw was clenched so tight that his teeth could crack. Stiles shrugged.
“I had, uh, fuck buddies in high school. But I wouldn’t call them boyfriends? We basically just...” Stiles trailed off. He didn’t really want to talk to Laura about jacking each other of and shit like that. “We had fun together.”
“Having fun with anyone in college?” Laura asked, using Stiles’ terminology. Stiles shook his head, deciding that looking out the window was good. His eyes caught Derek’s in the side mirror. “I saw you dancing with a hot guy at the party at Chi Omega-”
“Laura, enough,” Derek barked.
“Danny?” Stiles asked, confused. “I mean, that was fun? But I hadn’t even thought about him since that night,” Stiles mused, thinking about how long ago that was, that Laura even remembered him at all. Laura elbowed her brother, grinning. Stiles felt like he wasn’t in on something and he didn’t like it. “Why?” he asked.
“Hmmm?” Laura asked. “Oh, no reason, you’re just way too cute not to be getting any.” Derek rolled his eyes. Stiles watched him do it. His gut clenched because he thought that Derek didn’t agree with her, which wow, not okay, because not everyone was Derek. Stiles could workout everyday for a year and probably still not look like Derek. “Where as me? I like both,” she said, grinning at Stiles through the rearview mirror. Stiles’ eyebrows shot up, “same with Derek here,” she said, nudging her head in his direction. “Though he can’t even seem to get any either. You two should make a club.”
“Enough,” Derek whispered. Stiles bit his lip. What the fuck was going on? What did Laura mean that Derek couldn’t get any? If it were up to Stiles he’d be on his knees in front of Derek daily, hell. Stiles felt himself flush thinking about it. “You’re making things awkward.”
“No I’m not, you are, what the fuck side of the bed did you wake up on this morning?” Laura said, sneering at her brother. “You’ve been acting weird since the hospital.”
“It’s nothing,” Derek mumbled. Stiles really wanted to know what was going on in Derek’s head because he wasn’t acting like himself at all. They spent the rest of the car right talking about Laura’s doctorate, about how she had been seeing two people at once, and sometimes both of them at the same time. Stiles was surprised by her openness, but according to Derek’s facial expressions none of it was new to him. Laura and Derek seemed the opposites to each other, now that Stiles knew them a bit better. He could see now that there would be no way that they would be together if they weren’t siblings. Stiles thought about how old they had been when the fire happened, and how they had both found themselves in its aftermath. Neither seemed to be wallowing in the past, they seemed normal.
But then again, everyone seems normal on the surface. He kept his insecurities, the loss of his mother, and the paranoia at losing his dad close to his heart. He wondered what all Derek kept hidden, and if he would ever be close enough to him to learn about any of them.
They dropped Stiles off at his dorm. Derek had to get out of the car in order to let Stiles out. As soon as they were out of the car, Derek’s demeanor changed completely. His features relaxed and he got Stiles’ things out of the trunk for him.
“Are you going to the library later?” Derek asked as Stiles took his things from Derek. Stiles nodded.
“Yeah, I have some reading to do. Scott isn’t coming back until tomorrow and Isaac will just be playing video games so....” Stiles bit his lip. Derek probably didn’t care about how or why he would be there. “Yeah, I’ll be there.” Derek nodded once, giving Stiles a small smile before getting back in the car. Stiles was left confused and slightly looking forward to the library.
Stiles brought his Monday class books with him to the library in order to do the reading so that he felt at ease about going into the week ahead of him. Usually he didn’t have time, but with midterms out of the way and his grades slowly trickling into his blackboard, he wanted to get that head start. He was fairly pleased with the grades that he got in so far. The class he was doing the worst in was, of course, Chemistry. Damn that class to hell. He had a B- in it and with his scholarship he had to maintain a 3.5 GPA. He refused to let freshman level Chemistry fuck him royally.
He read Chemistry first, highlighting the shit out of it and making flash cards. At this point in his life he was sure that he could fill an entire room with the sheer amount of note cards that he has made throughout his life.
He was halfway through the chapter when Derek showed up with two coffees, setting one down in front of Stiles. Stiles grinned, dropping his highlighter from his mouth as he reached for it. Their fingers met, the tips of his brushing across Derek’s. Stiles groaned internally as Derek pulled his hand away as if sparks didn’t just erupt when they touched. Stiles sipped at his coffee. When Derek sat down across from him, Stiles spoke up.
“Thanks for the coffee,” he whispered. “Oh! That reminds me,” he mumbled as he shoved a hand in his pocket, bringing out the ten his dad gave him. “I have gas money for you-”
“You don’t need to, Stiles,” Derek said, waving him off. Stiles slid the ten across the table.
“I owe you another ten.”
“This will cover it,” Derek supplied. Stiles pursed his lips together. Derek was acting different and it made Stiles uneasy.
“Are you okay?” Stiles asked before really thinking about it. Derek didn’t answer immediately.
“I just have a lot to do, is all,” Derek said, pulling out his laptop. Stiles could tell by the way that he said it that Derek was lying. Stiles’ shoulders sank. Derek noticed and sighed. “It has nothing to do with you, I assure you.”
“That makes me feel one hundred percent better,” Stiles said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “But I get it, boundaries, study buddies only. Got it.” Stiles looked down at his book, his tongue poking against his cheek as he picked up his highlighter and flicked his eyes over the next paragraph.
“I ran into my ex,” Derek whispered. Stiles looked up, his jaw hanging slightly open. He closed it as soon as he realized what he was doing. “I hadn’t been expecting it, it through me off.”
“Bad break up?” Stiles asked, swallowing. Derek’s facial expression told Stiles everything. Very, very bad break up. “Ignore that question. Stupid question. Uh, well, at least you aren’t in Beacon Hills anymore?”
“That’s an understatement,” Derek mumbled, frowning as he looked at his computer. Stiles didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know anything about this ex. Like if it was a male or a female, thanks to Laura for supplying that little tidbit.
“Well, I, uh. If you need to talk about it?” Stiles asked, his face contorting as he said it, regretting it immediately. Derek surprised Stiles by nodding.
“Thanks,” was all he said, though. Stiles let out a long breath, mostly out of frustration at himself. “Sorry if I was a dick in the car, sometimes... Laura gets under my skin. I am sorry she pried with you, I mean. About your personal life.” Stiles shrugged.
“I didn’t say anything I didn’t want to tell you,” Stiles whispered. He realized his slip up after he said it, of course. His mouth had always been quicker than his brain. “And besides,” he said, to offset his flubber, “I didn’t actually give much away, you know?” Derek smiled.
“You gave away some, though.” It was Stiles’ turn to grin.
“Yeah, but I wasn’t about to talk about that shit with your sister.”
“I hate when she pries into my sex life, to be honest,” Derek said, his mouth twitching just a tad. “She can be rather demanding when it comes to that kind of information.”
“You’re lucky you have a sister,” Stiles said, regretting it because she was all Derek had. But then again, his father was all that Stiles had. “When I was younger I wanted a brother, or a sister. It didn’t matter.”
“I used to want to be an only child. Now I am glad I’m not,” Derek whispered, looking down at a book that he had brought out of his bag. “Because then I’d be completely alone.”
“What about your uncle?” Stiles asked. “I mean, isn’t he-”
“He doesn’t talk, he just... is a shell of a man. I don’t really want to talk-”
“Right, yeah, sorry. I’m a fucking asshole,” Stiles said, shaking his head. He really needed to learn when to shut up about something.
“You’re not an asshole, Stiles,” Derek told him. After that they quieted, falling into their normal routine of sipping on coffee and doing their work. Stiles put his headphones in and listened to the There Will Be Blood OST, because listening to creepily awesome music was just what he needed to get through the rest of the Chemistry chapter he was reading.
After some time, Derek stopped typing, running his fingers through his hair. He slowly reached across the table, tapping a finger against Stiles’ book to get his attention.Stiles pulled his earbuds out, waiting to see what Derek wanted.
“I’m sorry,” Derek said, his voice barely audible.
“What for?” Stiles asked, his brow creased.
“For snapping earlier, about the car ride.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, seriously,” Stiles said honestly. “If I had a bad day, last thing I would want would be to talk about my family or my exes with someone that I study with sometimes.”
“Stiles, you aren’t just a study partner to me, you know that right?” Stiles sat there for a good minute, saying nothing. He was clicking his pen, his lips pursed.
“You just keep belittling yourself, and you need to realize you’re doing it.”
“Don’t go all psychology major on me now,” Sitles joked. Derek sighed. Stiles licked his lips, forcing out a laugh as he wrote a note card. “I mean, I know we are more, sure.”
“Good,” Derek said, looking back down at his computer as he started typing once more. Stiles caught Derek looking at him though, which made him smile. They were more than just study partners.
thank you, as always, for the comments. they mean everything to me. <3
Chapter by slipintothewater (secondstar)
Stiles turns twenty one.
Stiles woke up on his birthday feeling like he did every day: tired. Lucky for him, it was a Friday so he only had Chemistry and his lab. He worked extra hard earlier in the week to get all his URAP research finished so that he could have the afternoon off to spend with his dad. He treated himself to a large coffee with three shots of espresso compared to his normal one or two, and a cupcake. Because birthday cupcakes were important and he figured his dad wouldn’t be bringing him a cake when he arrived later on.
His phone kept notifying him of people writing on his Facebook wall so much that he had to logout just to have it stop bugging the shit out of him. He got texts, too, from Scott who was still asleep when he left that morning, from Lydia, and from his aunt on his mother’s side who barely kept in touch. Stiles made it through Chemistry by thinking about being able to show his dad around campus, and to the fact that he could officially buy his own alcohol.
What Stiles hadn’t been expecting was a text from Derek.
‘Happy Birthday. If I see you in the library today I am kicking you out. Have fun.’ Stiles couldn’t remember grinning so much in his life.
He was having a pretty good birthday. The dining hall had his favorite, baked chicken and mashed potatoes, which was awesome. He got two servings because, why the fuck not? Birthday meant he could do whatever he wanted, in his mind.
While he waited for his dad to arrive, Stiles played Skyrim. He sat on the floor, his back against Scott’s bed, his eyes trained on their TV, zoning out. He wished he had time to play it more, really, because watching Scott was different than playing it himself. He wanted time to explore, do fuck off and do a random quest or five. Elder Scrolls gave him a brain hard-on. He loved Morrowind and Oblivion and he just really wanted to spend all of Christmas break glued to the TV.
When his dad called to tell him that he was waiting for him downstairs, Stiles quickly saved his game then ran to meet him. Stiles stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his dad leaning back against a blue Jeep.
“What is that?” Stiles called out as he came up, giving his dad a hug. “Did you get a new car?” The Sheriff held out a set of keys, dropping them in Stiles’ hand.
“Happy Birthday, Stiles,” his dad said with a grin on his face. Stiles practically jumped up and down, his jaw dropped open in surprise.
“What, seriously? This is mine?”
“I even got you a parking pass,” he said, pointing to the sticker in the corner of the windshield. Stiles hugged his dad again.
“How did you get it here? How are you going to get home?” Stiles asked.
“I borrowed a tow,” the Sheriff answered, as if it was that easy. Stiles was flabbergasted. “Come on, let’s take her for a ride.”
Stiles was so, so glad his dad made him learn stick shift when he got his driver’s license because otherwise he would be screwed. Stiles drove his dad through campus, pointing at random things, because the Sheriff rarely came up and Stiles really didn’t know what to do with his dad for the afternoon and evening. They ended up seeing a movie and splitting a large popcorn, which they definitely refilled. They ate dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, mainly because of cheescake reasons. Stiles had his priorities straight. Dessert was the most important part of his birthday and he intended on making sure he got his fill. After dinner, they went to a bar and got a drink together. Stiles beamed when he was asked for his ID. When he handed it over he got a ‘happy birthday’ and a wink from their bartender. His dad was heading back to Beacon Hills that night because he had a shift in the morning, so Stiles dropped him off at the tow truck.
“No drinking and driving, you hear me?” his father said mid-hug. Stiles clung tight to his dad, nodding his head.
“Got it,” he whispered.
“Two at most, understand?”
“Two is a good, even number.”
“Stiles, I mean it.” Stiles ended the hug with a grin on his face, nodding as he took a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Plans for tonight?”
“Nothing really, I’m sure Scott has something planned. This weekend is homecoming, so I’m sure there are parties to attend or... something.”
“Alright, have fun.”
“I will, dad. Love you,” Stiles said as he began walking back to his Jeep, his father climbing into the tow truck and turning it on.
“Love you too, son.”
Before Stiles parked his Jeep, he decided to stop by the store and buy beer. He bought Guinness, because why the fuck not? Birthday beer was important. He shared one with Scott and Isaac when he got back to his dorm. Stiles realized that he was the first of them to turn twenty one, so they would have to crash some party off campus if he wanted to get smashed. Scott was up for it. They finished off his birthday beer before they headed out, calling Jackson to see where he and Lydia were headed for the night. Allison called and was joining them as well. Allison and Lydia both gave him birthday kisses on the cheek then informed him that, as the birthday boy, he was going to be getting lucky.
Stiles was immediately wary.
“What do you mean?” He asked as Allison started unbuttoning his shirt in the middle of whatever sororities kitchen they had invaded.
“Body shots!” she called out, grinning. Stiles, his eyes wide, shook his head.
“Nope, no, I don’t want girls’ tongues all over me. I love you ...but no.”
“What if they were boys?” Lydia asked. Her eyebrows rose, “I should call Derek.” Stiles shot forward, grabbing his shirt back from Allison.
“No, we aren’t calling Derek.”
“It’s the birthday boy!” Stiles heard Laura call out from behind him. Before he knew it, she yanked his shirt from him, kissing his cheek while he did it. “Lydia tells me there are going to be body shots.” Stiles looked to Lydia, who was smirking.
“I didn’t have Derek’s number, so I called Laura,” she said, shrugging as if it was perfectly normal.
“No, no body shots,” Stiles whispered, reaching for his shirt. Laura pouted.
“You are too adorable, Stiles. Really. Do a shot with me?” she asked, tilting her head to one side. Stiles nodded.
One shot turned into two then suddenly he was more than okay for there to be body shots. Scott did one, but it was off of Stiles’ wrist which tickled more than anything. Lydia’s was off of Stiles’ neck, which gave him chills. Danny was there, and did one off of Stiles’ collarbone, licking the salt from his skin before taking his shot of tequila. He wrote his number across Stiles’ collarbone. Stiles took another shot then people he didn’t even know wanted to join in. He was more than okay with it, never really having this much attention. He had a full body buzz happening and didn’t even laugh when someone took a shot off his nipple, then the other. He did gasp as someone licked up his stomach, though, their hand on his happy trail. He bit his lip to keep from groaning, because he was laying on the kitchen table in front of loads of people.
“Stiles,” he heard a familiar voice say. Stiles opened his eyes, surprised to see Derek hovering over him. Stiles zoned in on him, blocking out all of the surrounding noise. It was then that he realized that Derek had been the one to take the shot off of his stomach, his palm still pressed against the skin below his belly button. Stiles involuntarily rolled his hips once, then shuddered, his eyelids heavy. Next thing he knew, he was being hauled to his feet by Derek.
“Laura and Lydia’s fault,” Stiles said as they walked. Stiles realized that Derek had his shirt in his hand. Once inside a bathroom, Derek pinned Stiles up onto the sink, Stiles’ legs straddling him. Stiles was holding onto the counter, his knuckles white.
“Do you want this?” Derek asked, his fingers grazing over the number written in sharpie. Stiles looked down at it, at Derek’s hand.
“Is it your number?” Stiles asked, his brow furrowed. Derek frowned.
“No,” he said. Stiles could feel Derek’s breath against his neck. He licked his lips, his eyes looking back up at Derek, fixating on Derek’s lips.
Derek swallowed as he pulled a towel, wetting it and adding a pump of soap to it. With one hand he held onto Stiles’ neck while the other wiped at the number. Stiles hooked his ankles around Derek’s thighs, pulling him closer. Derek grunted, but kept swiping across Stiles’ chest with the towel. “You took a shot off me,” Stiles whispered. Derek nodded.
“Happy birthday,” he said, smiling. Stiles snorted, his head leaning forward, resting on Derek’s shoulder. Derek’s hand on Stiles’ chest stilled as the hand on Stiles’ neck shifted, his fingers running slowly through Stiles’ hair. Stiles’ breath hitched in his throat, his hands shooting forward, holding onto Derek’s waist, a finger slipping through a belt loop. Stiles breathed against Derek’s shoulder, his eyes closing as he felt Derek close to him. They were touching and he wanted to stay there, like they were. He didn’t want to move. Derek didn’t move, either. He stood there, his fingers through Stiles’ hair as Stiles straddled him, holding onto him. “Stiles,” Derek whispered. Stiles let out a ‘hmph’ noise, his head lolling to the side so that his lips brushed Derek’s neck. “Are you falling asleep?” he asked. Stiles tugged Derek closer, if that was even possible. Stiles shook his head, sitting up straight.
“No, not sleeping.”
“Good, it’s still too early for that,” Derek said, his voice soft, a thumb brushing against Stiles’ cheek. Stiles smiled, tilting his head towards Derek’s touch. Suddenly, Derek’s hand dropped as he cleared his throat. It caused Stiles to snap out of his daze, his fingers pulling back from Derek, his ankles letting go of him. He wasn’t sure what was going on as Derek handed Stiles his shirt. Stiles put it on, looking down at his chest where Derek hadn’t completely gotten rid of Danny’s number, but he had smudged it beyond recognition. Stiles bit his lip, wondering if that had been Derek’s intention or not. But judging by how Derek took a step back from him, allowing Stiles to hop down from where he was situated, Stiles’ guess was as good as anybody else’s as to what was on Derek’s mind.
When they walked out of the bathroom, together, their friends scrambled, turning away like they hadn’t been standing there, waiting for them to emerge. Stiles could feel his ears burning red. His jaw clenched as he walked past them all. He was embarrassed because of what they probably thought was going on when nothing had actually happened, nothing at all.
It was like a switch was flipped in his mind. He and Derek weren’t going to happen. If Derek liked him, that would have been the perfect opportunity for them to kiss. Instead Derek backed away and now Stiles was upset. He was upset at himself, for thinking there could be a chance. He walked out of the house, to the confusion of both Laura and Scott, both of whom Stiles heard shouts of his name.
Stiles started walking towards his dorm, ignoring incoming calls from Scott, Laura, and Lydia. Stiles’ mood had turned sour and he really didn’t feel like dealing with people at the moment. He heard running, and for a split second he thought it might be Derek. He wanted it to be Derek.
But it was Scott. Of course it was, because Scott was his best friend. Best friends ran after each other when the other stormed off on his birthday without so much as an explanation.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Scott said, gasping for breath as he held onto Stiles’ shirt at his shoulder. Scott brought out his inhaler, taking a puff of it. Stiles really made him run for his money, it seemed. Stiles shrugged, though, because he really had no reason for leaving the party.
“I didn’t feel like it anymore,” Stiles whispered.
“Does this have to do with Derek?” Scott asked. “I mean, you two-”
“There is no ‘us two’, Scott,” Stiles snapped, then closed his eyes. Scott raised an eyebrow.
“Laura said what, Scott?” Stiles asked, his voice pitching higher and higher with each word.
“She said Derek dragged you in there!” Scott exclaimed. “And we were all ‘thank god because damn’. You and he have been dancing around each other since school started.” Stiles’ nostrils flared, his lips pursed.
“We have not been dancing, Scott. We’ve been fucking studying and that is all he wants from me, alright? That’s all.”
“Nothing happened, now let me just... go home. Alone.” Stiles shoved his hands in his pockets and turned, starting back towards the dorm once more. Scott let him walk two feet before catching up with him.
“Are you coming out tomorrow, for homecoming?” Scott asked. Stiles shook his head.
“No, I’ve got a paper to write, and a thousand fucking pages to read in my classes and alcohol makes me angry, so no. And I’m sorry I’m being a dick.”
“It’s your birthday, you can do what you want,” Scott said, smiling. Stiles scoffed, unable to hold back his own smile. Scott always did know how to calm him down. “Maybe sleeping would be a good idea, you look like you’re dead on your feet.”
“Yeah, that’s me, Stiles Stilinski the zombie.”
Stiles was okay, for that moment. He was fine with just standing there with his best friend and talking as if he basically hadn’t just been rejected on his birthday. He was fine, really. Really.
Until Derek pulled up in his Camaro. Stiles narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenching. He really wasn’t in the fucking mood, now. Scott took Derek pulling up as his cue to leave. With a wave of his hand he turned back towards the party. Apparently Derek decided that his car was in a parking spot, because he got out of it, leaving his car door open, and practically ran up to Stiles. Stiles’ entire body stiffened as Derek got closer to him, his eyes wide, almost scared. Was that what Stiles saw?
Derek stopped just short of cupping Stiles’ face with his hands. Instead, he raked his fingers through his own hair, a pained look on his face.
“You know... my sister can be fucking infuriating,” Derek hissed. Stiles let out a breath, his body relaxing.
“What’d she do now?” he asked, with no vehemence in his voice whatsoever. Derek was practically pacing in front of him. Derek stopped for a second, looking at him like he really wanted to tell him something but he decided against it at the last second.
“She is a conniving-”
“Derek,” Stiles said, grabbing Derek’s attention. Derek stopped right in front of him. Stiles hadn’t realized that he had reached out and took hold of Derek’s wrist. He flinched, dropping it almost immediately. “What did Laura do?” Stiles asked, unsure if he should even be asking him. Derek was in his personal bubble, and he wasn’t stepping out of it. Derek’s palm turned outwards, as if asking for Stiles’ hand. Stiles stared at it, unmoving.
“She had Lydia and Allison arrange for the guy I like to have shots taken off of him for his birthday,” Derek said plainly. Stiles’ eyes shot up, wide, breath stuck in his throat. Derek’s hand found Stiles’, their fingers interlocking as Derek closed the distance between them completely.
“It was fun, though,” Stiles whispered. “My favorite part was when,” Stiles licked his lips, hoping he wasn’t about to make an ass of himself, “the guy I like licked my stomach and then shoved me into a bathroom.” Derek smiled as he leaned in.
Stiles’ free hand immediately shot up, holding onto the back of Derek’s neck as their lips met, parting just enough that they fit together, Stiles’ lips grasping at Derek’s lower. Derek grunted, a hand slipping around Stiles’ waist.
“So, your car is in the middle of the road,” Stiles said, his lips still pressed against Derek’s. Derek had a vice grip on Stiles’ hand still, as if letting him go would mean what just transpired between them would go up in smoke.
Stiles felt the same way.
“Come on, I’ll get you home,” Derek whispered, his lips grazing Stiles’ cheek before he pulled him towards the car.
Stiles touched his own hand to his lips as his other was clasped in Derek’s. His heart was beating out of his chest as Derek lead him to the passenger side door. When the physical contact broke, Stiles immediately felt the loss, his fingers suddenly colder, hand empty. He sucked in a deep breath as Derek shut his door then looked at him, lips parted. Stiles leaned over, unthinking, his hand clasping the back of Derek’s neck once more. Derek gripped Stiles’ shirt as their mouths crashed together. Stiles closed his eyes, breathing Derek in as the kiss deepened, as their tongues tangled and teeth grazed across lips. Stiles moaned as Derek’s mouth trailed across his chin, then down his neck. Stiles raked his fingers through Derek’s hair, eventually grabbing hold to it and yanking Derek’s hair just enough to get his attention, pulling Derek back into a kiss, his stubble rubbing against Stiles’ tender flesh. Stiles hissed, panting as the kisses became more and more rushed, dirty, raunchy. Derek nipped at Stiles’ lips, at his jaw, his teeth scraping against his neck. Stiles’ nails dug into the back of Derek’s neck. They jumped from tender on the sidewalk to desperate and wanting in the car and it was making Stiles throb with need. Derek’s breath played across Stiles mouth as he gasped, smirking slightly before capturing Stiles’ lips once more.
They were brought out of their revelry by a horn beeping. Stiles laughed against Derek’s lips before they parted so that Derek could start driving. Stiles sat back, his head against the headrest as he looked out the window, his face flushed and lips swollen.
Derek cleared his throat, catching Stiles’ attention. Stiles looked over, drunk with emotion, ecstasy that could only be felt after making out with someone who he had wanted since the beginning of the semester.
“I’m taking you back to your dorm,” Derek supplied, swallowing as he looked ahead, his grip on the steering wheel tight. Stiles nodded, blinking, fingers tapping against his thighs just to have something to do with them.
“Good idea,” Stiles rasped, surprised by the sound of his voice.
As they pulled up, Stiles sighed. If he got out of the car, would that mean that this never happened? Tomorrow, would Derek act like nothing happened? Stiles got his answer as he moved to open the door. Derek’s hand grasped Stiles’ wrist, pulling him back for another kiss. Stiles’ breath hitched in his throat as their lips pressed together.
“Library tomorrow?” Derek asked, his lips not even inches away from Stiles’. Stiles nodded, leaning in one more time, finding Derek’s lips easily. He grinned as he pulled away.
“Library and lunch off campus?” Stiles asked, his voice raising questioningly. Derek snorted out a soft laugh, a smile creeping across his face as he nodded once.
“Done, it’s a date.”
Stiles heart fluttered at the word ‘date’ as he clambered out of the car, leaning down over it to look through the window one last time before making his way inside. Derek gave him a wave before he took off, heading back to his own apartment. Stiles didn’t stop grinning until he passed out in his bed.
This chapter brought to you by the soundtrack of me repeating Of Monsters and Men and The Lumineers.
thank you, thank you, thank you for the overwhelming cascade of love that I have gotten for this fic. I don't think you guys realize just how much it means to me that you guys are enjoying this fic. IT MEANS EVERYTHING to me. So yes, I cannot thank you guys enough for the comments.
Stiles woke up at eight am, his eyes shooting open. He grabbed his phone, groaning to himself as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He stumbled to the bathroom, showering in order to wake himself up. He changed clothes three times before he was satisfied with what he had picked out, which looked exactly like what he normally wore anyways, so really there was no point to changing but the word ‘date’ echoed over and over in his mind.
Sure, he had been on dates. He wasn’t a virgin when it came to dates, or to anything, really, but this was Derek. This was Derek who he already knew, who he spent countless hours with and suddenly there was something else to them, to their relationship.
Stiles almost dropped his books as he gathered them. That was a word that made his heart beat faster and his eyes dilate. That was something that would be brand new to him. All he really had in the past was drunken nights full of debauchery and days full of being ignored like it had never happened, only to have the cycle happen over and over again. He had flings that lasted days, weeks, months, but no commitment. He had one offs and fuck buddies, the occasional dinner and a movie, but nothing that had the word relationship tacked on the end of it. Stiles’ legs felt heavy as he made his way to the library just as it was opening. It would be mostly empty, due to the fact that it was homecoming weekend and that there was going to be a parade. He didn’t care about some parade, though, he cared about Derek. And that scared him. Having a crush on someone was one thing, something that he never really thought was attainable but now it was very real, very much happening and Stiles felt slightly overwhelmed.
Stiles breathed a sigh of relief when he got to their table and Derek wasn’t there yet. Stiles had time, at least, to think. It could still have been a one off, right? For his birthday. What if Derek didn’t come to the library, decided not to because he hadn’t been thinking straight? If he didn’t come to the library, then there would be no date. Stiles’ shoulders slumped as he thought about all of the ways that he might have misconstrued what happened the night before.
Stiles jumped out of his skin when a hand rested on his neck. He gasped, looking up then covering his eyes with a hand when he saw it was Derek.
“Oh my god, you scared me,” Stiles said, shaking his head. Derek’s hand was still on his neck, which made his heart jump into his throat. There was no way he had misconstrued what had happened.
“Didn’t mean to, I thought I was rather loud, considering I said ‘good morning, Stiles’ but you didn’t respond.”
Stiles looked up at him, confused. He really hadn’t heard a word and he didn’t even have his headphones in. Derek walked around the table, setting his things down on top of it before he sat down. Stiles saw that he had been carrying a caddy with two large coffees and a bag of croissants. Stiles swallowed, looking at it as if it was an expensive present. Derek slid Stiles his and opened the bag so that Stiles could pick which one he wanted. Stiles stared blankly at Derek, his jaw hanging open.
“Are you alright?” Derek asked slowly, his mouth set in a frown.
“What is going on?” Stiles asked, his voice quiet. Derek raised and eyebrow and looked around, confused.
“What do you mean?” Derek asked.
“I mean, this,” Stiles said as he gestured between them, at his coffee and the bag of deliciousness. “What is going on?” he reiterated.
“I always get us coffee,” Derek said, leaning in a bit for emphasis. “And the croissants looked good, so I bought two. Is that bad?” he asked, not at all worried about it, as if he knew it wasn’t bad. Stiles scrunched his nose up, but grabbed one of the croissants. He ate in silence, his eyes darting between watching Derek pull his things out of his bag and looking at Derek’s facial expressions. “Stiles,” Derek said, sighing. “What’s wrong?”
Stiles bit his lip, sucking in a breath.
“Did you mean it... last night?”
Derek’s eyes looked from Stiles’ eyes down to his hand, gripping his coffee tight. Derek’s mouth twitched. Stiles couldn’t help but feel stupid, as if he missed the point of everything.
“Yeah, didn’t you?” Derek asked and for the first time Stiles could sense a hint of worry in Derek’s voice.
“Yeah,” Stiles whispered. Stiles’ hand went up to his collarbone subconsciously, rubbing at where Derek had washed away Danny’s number. Derek’s eyes watched him do it.
“The coffee is just coffee, Stiles.” Stiles nodded, twirling it in place with his hand. “It isn’t some sort of magical relationship coffee where I am offering you an olive branch or something.”
Stiles looked at Derek, his eyes wide. “It’s not, Stiles.” Stiles breathed out deeply. He didn’t realize he was so strung out about everything, about Derek. Stiles didn’t want to fuck up.
“Alright,” Stiles answered. They worked in almost silence for most of the morning, Stiles putting his headphones in like he normally did, only this time he couldn’t stop looking up every so often to find Derek looking at him. It was odd, the feeling that overcame Stiles every time he looked up and caught Derek’s eyes with his. It felt as if all this time at the library, if he had just looked up from his work, if he had paid any attention, he would have caught Derek doing exactly what he was doing now. Only Stiles hadn’t looked, because he had been too afraid to do so. He was too busy, to consumed by his own work that he hadn’t taken the time to realize that yes, Derek always bought him coffee, and that Derek always showed up when he knew Stiles would be in the library. Stiles put his pen down, pushing his book back then pulled out his earbuds. Derek was typing, not paying him the least bit of attention at the moment, but that didn’t matter.
“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispered. Derek looked up, an eyebrow lifted as his fingers kept typing.
“What for?” Derek asked, a hand moving to take a sip of his coffee. He was always so stoic, so nonchalant about everything. It riled Stiles up, that Derek could be so calm.
“For being an idiot,” Stiles said, clenching his jaw. Derek stopped typing, closing his laptop as if he had been waiting for Stiles to play catch up.
“You aren’t an idiot-”
“Yeah, definitely am. The coffee, you inviting me over for dinner, taking my drunk ass to IHOP-”
“All things that friends do for each other,” Derek supplied.
“But you want to be more, I mean, we aren’t really friends, are we?” Stiles asked. Derek breathed in deeply, letting it out slowly, shaking his head.
“No, not really. Stiles, we don’t need to talk about this right here, right now,” Derek whispered. Stiles nodded, his eyes widening as each second passed.
“Yeah, I want to, because I’m really confused right now and I feel like my head is going to explode if we don’t talk about it.”
“I was really subtle, because I didn’t know how you felt.”
“That’s because I don’t talk about feelings or liking people, ever. I just don’t,” Stiles said, shrugging. “Because liking someone or not was never part of the equation for me.” Stiles felt a weight lift off of his shoulders saying it, saying how he felt. He looked down at the table, thinking about high school, about his freshman year of college. The faces, the names were all a blur to him. Finding who he was, finding people who wanted the same things as he did had been hard and he never really found someone to be with, really. He never wanted to be with anyone like he wanted to be with Derek and that scared him, a lot.
“I didn’t want to push how I felt on you,” Derek said simply. Stiles was jealous that he said things so easily, that he was able to communicate what he wanted. Stiles, well. He just jacked off in the shower thinking about people, about Derek. He never once thought about what it would be like to actually be with him. It had all been in his mind and now Derek was here, talking to him about actually wanting to be with him and suddenly Stiles was sitting like a deer in headlights.
“How you feel?” Stiles mimicked. He couldn’t quite grasp the fact that Derek had feelings towards him, that there wasn’t just a physical need between them. Derek just gave him a small smile.
“I don’t just tell people about my family, Stiles,” Derek said, his hand reaching slowly across the table. Stiles slipped his hand into Derek’s, letting Derek’s fingers wrap around his, clinging to him. Stiles sighed, staring at their hands.
“I really like you,” Stiles whispered. Derek grinned, nodding.
“I like you too.” Stiles laughed, leaning forward and resting his head against his extended arm, looking up at Derek, over his glasses.
“I want Chinese for lunch,” Stiles said, changing the subject because feelings made him uncomfortable. Derek nodded, ever compliant.
“I could go for some egg rolls and General Tso’s.”
“I like egg drop soup and Sesame Chicken.”
“We’ll go to the buffet,” Derek countered. “My treat.”
“No, no treats,” Stiles said, sitting up, pulling his hand back. “I can pay mine-”
“Stiles, last night I said ‘date’...” Derek trailed off. Stiles relented, his hand slipping back towards Derek’s hand, his fingers curling around Derek’s. “Do you want it to be a date?”
Stiles nodded without thinking.
“Fuck yes,” Stiles whispered, biting his bottom lip.
“I really want to pick your brain,” Derek said, giving Stiles his famous eyebrow lift look. Stiles smiled openly, his thumb playing across Derek’s fingers.
“Alright,” Stiles offered. Derek poked his tongue against his cheek, as if thinking about something. Stiles tapped his thumb against Derek’s hand, waiting.
“Why do you not think I could like you?” Derek asked bluntly. Stiles tried not to let it show, how much it threw him off, but he did say that Derek could pick his brain.
“Because no one has ever wanted to be with me,” Stiles said truthfully. “I don’t mean it in a sense that I haven’t been with anyone, because that isn’t true-”
“I didn’t think so,” Derek slipped in. Stiles laughed, closing his eyes for a second before continuing.
“I just mean, I haven’t been... in a relationship, a monogamous one.” Derek nodded his understanding. “I was always a one time thing, or someone that was called when there was no one else around to mess with.”
“Well, I don’t feel that way,” Derek supplied. Stiles raked his teeth across his bottom lip, nodding once.
“I know,” Stiles whispered. “It’s just something I have to wrap my head around.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m not really in the mood for studying right now,” Derek said. Stiles couldn’t agree more, because next thing he knew, they were packing up their things and walking through the campus, headed to Derek’s apartment, hand in hand. Stiles had never really walked with someone holding hands before, but in doing it, he realized what sort of rush he could feel as Derek lead him through an almost dead campus.
Once they got to Derek’s apartment, they dropped their things at the door, then suddenly their hands were all over each other, grasping at their shirts, trying to get as close as possible as they kissed. Stiles cupped Derek’s face, pushing him up against a wall as the kiss deepened. Derek moaned into Stiles’ mouth as Stiles nipped at Derek’s bottom lip, his teeth grazing across the skin of Derek’s stubbled cheek. Derek’s fingers found their way into Stiles’ hair, pulling at it, maneuvering Stiles’ mouth where he wanted it along Derek’s jawline then his neck. Stiles sucked and lapped at Derek’s skin, marking him as his hands slid down Derek’s torso, yanking at his shirt, lifting it enough to press his palm against Derek’s stomach.
Suddenly, Derek’s hands grasped at Stiles’ hips, shoving him towards the couch. Stiles, his mouth open and tongue sliding against Derek’s skin, moaned as he fell onto the cushions, Derek landing on top of him with a thud. Stiles’ hands yanked and pulled at Derek’s shirt until it was over his head. As soon as it was discarded, Derek’s lips were on Stiles’, his hands cupping Stiles’ face. Stiles’ legs were spread with Derek kneeling between them. Stiles ran his thumb over a nipple, his other hand sliding slowly down Derek’s chest until his fingers hooked around Derek’s belt loops, pulling Derek on top of him. Derek groaned as they pressed up against each other, as Stiles rolled his hips. This he knew how to do. Sex came naturally to him, the movement of their bodies seemed familiar yet new all at once. The feel of Derek’s hands against him, his tongue lapping against his neck, lips against skin. Stiles gasped as he felt Derek’s teeth rake across his skin, his back arching slightly as his hips bucked upwards, grinding against Derek. Derek pulled at Stiles’ legs until Stiles hooked them together just above Derek’s ass, bringing them together, their cocks sliding against each other through layers and layers of fabric, the friction making them both moan as their mouths crashed together once more.
Derek’s hands returned to Stiles face, cupping his jaw as he started moving his hips against Stiles’. Stiles moaned, head tilting back, his eyes opening so he could see, he wanted to see what Derek looked like in that moment. Derek was looking down at Stiles, whose mouth was hanging open, a constant slew of noises pouring out of him as they moved against each other. Stiles turned his head slightly, not breaking eye contact with Derek as he took Derek’s thumb into his mouth, sucking on it slowly. Derek bit his lip, his hips stilling for only a moment as he watched Stiles’ mouth wrap around his thumb. Stiles moved his neck, bobbing his head slightly, his body shivering as he thought about Derek’s cock in his mouth instead of his thumb. Stiles shut his eyes, moaning. Derek pulled his thumb away, his lips capturing Stiles’. Stiles reached up, grabbing hold of Derek’s wrists as the kiss deepened. Stiles didn’t stop moving, his hands sliding up and down Derek’s arms until he eventually pushed them away from his face, Derek sat up, looking down at Stiles as Stiles slid Derek’s hands underneath his shirt. Derek bucked his hips once, twice against Stiles, making him bounce against him.
Stiles bit his lip to keep from crying out, his eyes shut tight because he felt like he could come without Derek’s hand or mouth on him. He could tell his face was flushed by how he could feel his heart throbbing. Derek started to lean over, his hands shoving Stiles’ shirt up his chest when the front door opened. Stiles scrambled, pushing his shirt back down, straightening his glasses and attempting to sit up. Derek’s hands rested against Stiles’ stomach, unmoving.
A girl walked in, but froze when she saw Derek and Stiles on the couch. She arched an eyebrow at them, then tilted her head as if she was annoyed. Behind her, Laura walked up, laughing when she saw them. Stiles let out a pained sigh when Derek got up, rolling his eyes.
“Holy shit, you two, get a fucking room!” Laura said, smiling. Stiles grabbed one of the couch pillows to cover his obvious hard-on. Derek was in the kitchen, with whoever the girl was, probably a roommate. Laura was smirking at Stiles. “It’s about time, really. I was getting worried about you guys.”
Stiles ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes darting to Derek who was obviously ignoring his sister.
“Sam, come in here and meet my brother’s adorable boyfriend,” Laura all but shouted. Stiles’ eyes widened at the word ‘boyfriend’. He was still watching Derek and saw how Derek had stiffened at the word, but tried to relax almost immediately. The girl, Sam, came in, smiling kindly at Derek.
“Hi, Stiles. I’m Sam, one of Derek’s roommates.” She had extended her hand, so Stiles took it, shaking it.
“Stiles,” he offered no title.
“So you’re why Derek suddenly loves the library,” Sam said, her eyes flicking from Stiles to Derek. Stiles’ jaw dropped, shrugging.
“This is him,” Laura said, tilting her head as if Stiles was the most adorable puppy ever. Stiles shook his head in awe of them. It was if they were cooing over him like he was a baby.
“Alright, Laura,” Derek said from behind them. “Leave him alone.”
“We weren’t doing anything, grumpyface,” Sam said, pouting. “It isn’t our fault you never bring your boy over.” Derek’s jaw clenched. “How long have you guys been together? Since August?”
“Last night,” Stiles said without thinking. Sam looked to Laura, then they both looked to Derek.
“So the bodyshots worked, then?” Laura asked, smirking. Derek’s eyes narrowed. Laura looked to Stiles.
“Derek is a bit territorial-”
“Laura!” Derek all but growled. Stiles couldn’t stop himself for grinning, because that meant Derek scrubbing Danny’s number off of him had been on purpose. Derek hadn’t wanted Stiles to do anything with Danny. It made Stiles’ stomach do somersaults and it did nothing to help Stiles’ hard on. If anything, it made him throb more. Laura looked affronted. “What? I am just telling him simply that you just don’t share whereas I, on the other hand, share all the time,” she said as she shrugged as if she was saying something like that Derek preferred honey mustard to ranch with his chicken fingers at a restaurant.
“I’m not much for sharing, either,” Stiles whispered, looking at Derek. Derek’s posture eased up some, his shoulders no longer stiff, his hands no longer clenched. “But uh, so, you said something about lunch earlier,” Stiles said, offering them an out. “Egg rolls and dumplings.”
“Lo mein and egg drop soup,” Derek countered, nodding his head. Stiles swallowed, readying himself to get rid of the pillow. He tossed it aside, standing quickly. He felt Laura’s gaze on him, but she said nothing as they made their way to the door.
“Nice meeting you, Sam!” Stiles called out as Derek put his hand at the small of Stiles’ back, leading him out of the apartment.
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Stiles, after eating three helpings from the Chinese buffet they went to, was content to go back to the library to study because he, in fact, did need to get work done. Working was suddenly ten times harder to do, though, because if he looked up Derek was there. Now, yeah, Derek was always there, but only now it was more obvious. It was like there had been this door in his mind that had been shut but suddenly it was open and thoughts flooded his mind and wouldn’t stop. He thought about Derek over him, his thumb in his mouth. He thought about what it would be like to straddle Derek, to fuck his mouth, to have Derek in his mouth, to be fucked by him, to be the one doing the fucking. Stiles couldn’t concentrate in the slightest about his reading. He had read the same paragraph over and over, soaking in no more than a few words each time.
Stiles groaned, putting his highlighter down, looking up at Derek. Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles, which only made him ache to be back on Derek’s couch, in his apartment. His body was betraying him, as was his mind. Stiles pouted.
“No,” Derek said firmly. Stiles made an angry face, which fell away almost immediately as he pulled at his own hair, making it stick up.
“I can’t concentrate.”
“Maybe if I blew you, you’d calm down a bit,” Derek said jokingly. Stiles nodded.
“Yes, please,” he grinned. Derek put his tongue against his cheek.
“Stiles, I was joking.”
“I don’t care,” Stiles said, shaking his head, scooting his chair back, leaning it back so that only two of the legs were touching the floor, his legs spread enough that it was not a normal stance, his hands hanging limply off his thighs, framing his crotch. Stiles tilted his head to the side. Derek’s eyes narrowed, then he looked back down at his computer. Stiles knocked his chair back down, planting all four legs firmly on the ground. “Derek-”
“Stiles, we aren’t... you need to finish that reading,” he said, pointing at Stiles’ book.
“Can’t, brain is mush. Fix it,” Stiles pleaded, licking his lips.
“We can later, in my room, if you finish,” he said with a smirk.
“You can’t use my own class work against me, and use a blowjob as a reward. I don’t work like that.”
“And how do you work, exactly?” Derek asked, putting his chin in his hand, resting his elbow on the table. Stiles wanted to climb onto the table right then and there and maul him, but he refrained. Stiles’ jaw clenched.
“I don’t know how I work,” he said truthfully, swallowing back his emotions from earlier that were threatening to resurface. He had a good lunch with Derek, despite them being interrupted. They didn’t talk about Laura and Sam, not really. Derek apologized, twice, for their prying. Stiles waved it off. If anything it made him blush that Sam had assumed that he and Derek had been together the whole time, and that Stiles just hadn’t come around yet.
“We’ll figure you out, somehow,” Derek said, sighing, adding a smile in at the end. Stiles picked his highlighter up, going back to attempting to do his work. He ended up being able to finish not only his reading, but starting on an essay that he knew would take up a big chunk of his time for the next week. He was able to find a couple of really good reference books as well. They stayed at the library until around eight. They grabbed food before heading up to Stiles’ dorm room, since Stiles knew for a fact that both Isaac and Scott would be out due to homecoming.
“Usually Isaac stays in all the time,” Stiles said as they walked in. “And ignore Scott’s part of the room, he doesn’t know what picking up after yourself means.”
“Noted,” Derek said, pulling out Stiles’ desk chair. Stiles stopped him, grabbing Derek’s wrist, pulling Derek towards his bed. Stiles grabbed the TV remote, flipping it on as they climbed on top of his comforter.
“Movie?” Stiles asked, swallowing as he thought about how to sit. His heart was hammering in his chest as Derek decided for him, pulling him close, his arm draping around Stiles’ shoulders.
“A movie sounds good,” Derek whispered just loud enough so that Stiles could hear. He felt the puff of breath against his neck and shut his eyes. He started flipping through the channels, hoping something good would be on. He found Casino Royale was playing on FX, so he stopped there. “I didn’t think I would like Daniel Craig’s Bond, but I do.” Stiles nodded, agreeing.
“I like that he does most of his stunts.” Stiles sighed, resting his head back against the wall. Eventually, as they watched, somehow they shifted slightly so that Stiles’ back was against Derek’s chest, that Stiles had slouched down, halfway across Derek’s body, an elbow against the mattress. It was nice, just watching a movie. Stiles rarely had time to sit and watch anything lately, and even though he had seen it before, it was nice laying against Derek, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and out. Stiles felt himself falling asleep, his head resting back against Derek’s chest. He caught himself, though, breathing in deeply, forcing his eyes to open. He looked up to see Derek looking down at him.
“Almost fell asleep,” Stiles whispered. Derek smiled down at him, his hand moving to Stiles’ arm, sliding down it until he held onto Stiles’ hand. Stiles tilted his head up as Derek leaned down, their lips meeting tentatively at first. Stiles started to sit up, to slide up more as Derek’s other hand came up, holding onto Stiles’ neck. Stiles moved his hand that was being held, keeping hold of Derek as he covered his own stomach as he opened his mouth for Derek, their tongues tangling as the kiss deepened. Derek moaned against his mouth, making Stiles breathe in sharply. He moved his hand south, untangling his fingers from Derek’s to guide him over his crotch. Derek took Stiles’ cue, his hand grasping at Stiles through his jeans. Stiles gasped, his hips rolling once at the contact. The kiss broke as Derek’s mouth trailed down Stiles’ neck, then back up it only to nibble at his ear. Stiles shifted his body so that he was practically laying between Derek’s spread legs, his back to Derek’s chest as Derek’s hand stroked him through the fabric, Derek’s mouth teasing his ear and marking his neck. Stiles fumbled with his fingers, his chest heaving as he unzipped his jeans.
His eyelids were heavy as Derek’s hand slid beneath the fabric of his boxer briefs, grabbing hold of him fully. Stiles moaned, raking his teeth along his bottom lip as Derek began jacking him off. Stiles squirmed at Derek’s touch, his hands on Derek’s thighs, rubbing against them as he licked his lips, noises escaping his mouth in an unstoppable cascade. Derek nipped at the skin beneath Stiles’ ear and he was done for. Stiles shuddered, his stomach contracting as he gripped tight to Derek’s thighs, coming in his hand. Stiles’ toes curled as he let out a strangled groan. He immediately sat up, turning around, cupping Derek’s face with his hands, kissing him. Derek let him, Stiles’ hands trailing down Derek’s body hastily as the kiss broke. Stiles needed to reciprocate, he yearned for it. He wanted Derek around his mouth.
He heard Derek pull out tissues from the box he kept by his bedside, cleaning his hand off as Stiles unzipped his jeans, pushing the fabric out of his way as he hunched over, his knees tucked up against his chest as he freed Derek from the confines of his underwear. Derek’s hands went to Stiles’ hair, his fingers embedding themselves in the tangle that was Stiles’ mop of hair as Stiles licked up Derek’s length. Derek had one knee bent, hanging off to one side as the other leg laid out straight. Stiles took Derek into his mouth, putting one hand on Derek’s thigh as the other cupped his balls. Stiles lapped at his head, looking up at Derek, his face relaxed, his mouth open just enough that Stiles wished Derek made that face all the time because it looked so, so hot it made Stiles moan, his mouth full of him. Derek’s foot moved, sliding against Stiles’, his grip in Stiles’ hair tightening.
Stiles worked up a rhythm, his head bobbing up and down, tongue twisting and teasing. He wanted to make Derek come, he wanted to taste him.
“Stiles,” Derek panted, yanking Stiles’ hair, pulling him back. Stiles gasped for air, his hand immediately replacing his mouth, stroking him as he looked up at Derek, his mouth open, tongue sticking out for more. “I’m going to come.” Stiles nodded, because yes, he knew that. He knew Derek was going to. Derek pulled Stiles up to him, kissing him instead. Stiles groaned into Derek’s mouth, his hand not stopping, his thumb playing across Derek’s head.
“Do it, come on,” Stiles rasped against Derek’s lips. Derek shuddered, inhaling sharply as he came into Stiles’ hand in thick ropes, making a mess on skin and fabric. Stiles laughed, because of his endorphin high, and the fact that he’d just made Derek come. Stiles bit his bottom lip, feeling his swollen lips. He wiped his mouth with a hand, then grabbed for a couple of tissues himself.
“That was, uh,” Stiles laughed again, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ.” Derek let out a short laugh as he righted himself, zipping his jeans back up. Stiles did the same, then fell back into Derek’s arms, his face burying itself in the nook between Derek’s shoulder and neck.
“Your mouth,” was all Derek said. Stiles smiled against him, closing his eyes, letting himself relax.
Stiles woke up on his back with Derek’s face resting on his shoulder, his arm draped over Stiles’ stomach. Stiles rubbed at his eyes, looking over at the clock by his bedside. It was barely past midnight and FX was playing some horrible movie remake. Stiles remained still, feeling the rise and fall of Derek’s chest as he breathed while he slept. After a while, Stiles shifted, making Derek stir.
“What time is it?” Derek mumbled, his eyes barely open as he moved off of Stiles. Stiles got up, raking his fingers through his hair before taking his jeans off, along with his socks.
“Midnight,” Stiles whispered. Derek was watching Stiles undress as he sat up.
“I should go?” he asked. Stiles shrugged.
“I was just, uh, getting more comfortable before slipping beneath the covers, but if you wanted to go-”
“No, no. That’s good, sounds good. Perfect,” Derek said as he unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his thighs until they were tossed to the floor. He pulled off his shirt as well, opting to leave his socks on. Stiles kept his shirt on as he crawled into bed. Stiles got onto his side, his legs intertwining with Derek’s, his hand on Derek’s stomach, their heads sharing Stiles’ pillow. “So about your roommates coming in-”
“Don’t care,” Stiles muttered, taking his glasses off and placing them on his desk next to the bed. Stiles let out a long sigh, covering his face with one hand. “I have so much shit to do tomorrow.”
“Me too,” Derek whispered, pulling Stiles closer. “You’re going to be a distraction.” Stiles snorted as he nodded his head in agreement.
“You, you are a huge distraction.”
“Maybe we should study alone-”
“Not fucking likely,” Stiles interrupted him. They fell asleep with the TV on, limbs tangled.
Stiles woke up to Derek crawling out of bed. It was light out, but dim. He reached for his glasses in time to view Derek pulling his shirt over his head.
“Where are you going?” Stiles whispered so he didn’t wake up his roommates. Derek bent over, kissing his forehead, fingers running through Stiles’ hair.
“Home, to shower. Meet you at the library in a bit?” he asked. Stiles nodded, laying back down as Derek put his shoes on. Stiles bit his lip as he watched him bend over. Jesus Christ he was in a relationship, or close to it. With Derek. He was with Derek.
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“I’ll bring coffee,” Derek whispered as he made his way to the door. Stiles slept for another thirty minutes before he got up to shower.
Stiles was halfway through Howard Shore’s LOTR: Return of the King soundtrack when Derek showed up, coffee in hand. Stiles pulled out one earbud, taking a sip as soon as the cup was in his hand.
“I don’t know which of us is more addicted,” Derek said, smiling to himself. As he sat his things down, he jumped a bit, surprised by his phone buzzing in his pocket. He took it out, frowned, then put it back in his pocket and began to get his things out of his bag. Stiles bit his lip as he tried to ignore a nagging feeling in the back of his head, but he refused to pry.
Stiles was determined to finish his paper before lunch. It was quite a goal, but Stiles new if he didn’t finish it that day, that he would be screwing over the rest of his week in regards to his work. He made it to his conclusion, without editing, before Derek shut his computer. Stiles looked up, taking out his earbuds.
“I’ll be right back,” Derek said, his phone in his hand. Stiles nodded, looking to his clock at the corner of his computer. It was one, way past lunch. Stiles’ stomach grumbled. He decided he would just wait for Derek to come back before heading out to get something quick.
Derek didn’t come back until almost two. Stiles finished his conclusion and got most of his editing done and had moved on from Howard Shore to Clint Mansell’s Requiem for a Dream because epic music made for better essays, in Stiles’ opinion.
When Derek sat down, his jaw was clenched and he seemed on edge.
“You okay?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head, as if clearing it completely.
“Yeah, fine. Just dealing with some shit.” It was obvious it was ‘some shit’ that he didn’t want to talk about to Stiles, which, yeah, they weren’t really dating, at least not officially yet, but Stiles thought they were past the whole ‘study buddy conversations only’ thing. Apparently he had been wrong.
“Alright,” Stiles said, his eyes returning to scanning over his essay. Stiles’ stomach made a noise again, louder than before. Stiles looked up to see Derek smirking.
“Hungry?” he asked. Stiles lifted an eyebrow.
“What gave me away?”
“Want to grab something quick?” Derek asked. Stiles bit his lip. No, what he wanted was to know what the fuck had Derek upset, but that wasn’t on the table. So yeah, he would settle for a sandwich.
Stiles hated that he had to pack up all his stuff whenever he needed food. It would be awesome if he could trust his fellow man and leave his things, go get a sandwich, come back and have his stuff still be where he left it. But no, the world was not a fairy tale and Stiles had to bring everything with him and Derek was being silent and broody, and Stiles had no idea how to deal with it because the Derek he knew never let Stiles see that side of him.
Maybe Derek was actually opening up. Maybe Derek showing Stiles that he had been upset was a step in that direction. Stiles didn’t know which direction, but it was a direction nonetheless. Stiles made it out of the building before he was about to open his mouth. Derek beat him to it, though.
“About me disappearing,” he said as they walked, “It’s complicated, and I just-” Derek sighed, looking over at Stiles. They stopped walking, which, to Stiles, was rather ominous.
“You... don’t want to tell me,” Stiles prompted when Derek stopped in the middle of his sentence. Derek drew his eyebrows together.
“It’s not that.” Derek sighed. “It’s Kate.”
“Kate? Who is Kate?” Stiles asked. Derek didn’t answer for a moment. Stiles’ jaw dropped.
“Your ex? You were talking to your ex, for an hour?” Derek’s shoulders sagged. Stiles covered his mouth with his hand, closing his eyes. “Are you guys still-”
“No!” Derek barked, his voice louder than he obviously intended it to be. “No, we aren’t.”
“Okay, then no big deal,” Stiles said, shrugging. Derek looked stunned.
“Are you... sure?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded.
“Derek, I’m not just going to like, I don’t know,” Stiles licked his lips as he thought of how to put what he wanted to say into words. “I don’t want to push you away because you have a past. I mean, I have a past too, albeit more in the non-relationship area. I don’t want to fuck up before anything happens.”
“You aren’t fucking up,” Derek said. “Anyways, I told her to fuck off, so hopefully she does.”
“Does she usually call?” Stiles asked, unsure about his footing in this conversation. Derek gave him a look.
“No, she doesn’t.”
“So then... sandwiches? And studying?” Stiles said, changing the subject.
By the end of the day, Stiles had listened to all three Lord of the Rings soundtracks twice. He had also finished his essay, made an outline for another, found three references for it, and made note cards for an upcoming art history exam. He had been quiet most of the day, having both earbuds in because he worked better that way. It was also to give himself space, as well as Derek. Derek seemed off, still, which worried Stiles because he felt like everything between them was very fragile, that if it wasn’t handled properly that it would fall apart.
Stiles didn’t want to be the reason that they fell apart.
Stiles was doodling on a notecard instead of writing when Derek’s hand came into his view, he looked up at Derek’s tapping fingers, pulling out his earbuds. Derek turned his hand over, palm up, then waited until Stiles’ hand was in his.
“Dinner at my place?” Derek asked. Stiles looked at his watch, it was almost nine and he hadn’t even realized it.
“Yeah,” Stiles said, his eyebrows coming together for only a second. His voice cracked because he hadn’t talked all afternoon.
“We have some things we need to talk about,” Derek whispered. Stiles nodded, gulping down his feelings.
“I’m thinking pizza and beer. Homemade pizza.”
“Sounds delicious and fucking awesome,” Stiles said, pulling his hand away so that he could start packing his things away. Derek gave him a small smile, but Stiles could tell that Derek would no longer be giving him fake smiles of reassurance, that Derek was planning on being himself around Stiles. Stiles liked that more than anything, despite the fact that he was slightly worried about this so called talk that they needed to have. Stiles felt better, though, when they started walking towards Derek’s apartment and Derek put his arm around Stiles’ shoulders, squeezing him tight for a moment, giving him a side hug before dropping his arm so they could walk side by side. Stiles was okay after that.
I still cannot believe the overwhelming love in the form of comments I have been getting for this fic, it has literally made me grin every time I look up from my work and see an email, so thank you. THANK YOU. <3
As it turned out, Stiles could watch Derek cook all day. His favorite part was watching Derek throw the dough in the air like he was a pizza man, but that was because Derek almost dropped it.
“Again!” Stiles said as he laughed from his perch up on the kitchen counter, an open beer hanging in his hands which were dangling between his legs. Derek gave him a fake scowl as he started kneading the dough into a circle on the counter beside Stiles instead.
“My dad used to be able to do it,” Derek whispered, itching his nose with his forearm, getting a bit of flour on his face from his hands. Stiles looked down at his hands, not really knowing what to say to that. “It was awesome, though, to watch him do it. My little sister, Anna,” Derek said, telling the story with a smile on his face, “used to clap for him as he did it. I always tried, he always let me try with some of the dough. I never got the hang of it.”
“At least you didn’t drop it,” Stiles offered, afraid of saying the wrong thing. Derek looked up at him, his fingers stilling for a moment so that he could shoot Stiles a grin. Stiles smiled back because Derek was being honest with him, sharing with him. “How much younger than you was Anna?” Stiles asked.
“Ten years. My parents had her way after Laura and I,” Derek said, clearing his throat, his brow creasing as he started spreading pizza sauce. “She was six.” Stiles bit his lip.
“We don’t need to-” Derek cut Stiles off by shaking his head.
“No, we need to. I need to... I want you to know me, want you to know about my past.” Stiles reached out, grabbing hold of Derek’s flour covered shirt and pulled him in for a kiss.
“I want to know you, too,” Stiles whispered after he ended it, releasing Derek from his grasp. Derek leaned in quickly for another peck before he went back to finishing the pizza.
“What do you want on it? I have pepperoni, black olives... I can put bacon, mushrooms. I have feta-”
“Oh shit, pepperoni and mushrooms,” Stiles said, knocking his feet against the cupboard below his feet like he was five. “Unless you don’t like that combo.”
“Wouldn’t have said I had it if I didn’t like it,” Derek said, winking at him. Stiles bit his lip as he smiled.
While they waited for the pizza to cook they sat on the couch. Derek, a beer in one hand, covered his face with the other, sighing deeply. Stiles knew what was coming.
“So I need to confess something to you,” Derek said, dropping his hand and looking Stiles in the eyes. Stiles waited, his heart beating in his throat. “The weekend we went home for fall break, when you called me-”
“Oh, shit,” Stiles whispered, wide eyed. Derek looked down at his beer, nodding once.
“I was... at Kate’s.”
“Fuck me,” Stiles said, his eyebrows furrowing, his lips pursed together.
“I need you to know, I need you to understand about us.”
“You and her us or you and I us?” Stiles asked, his voice rising slightly at the end.
“Okay,” Stiles said slowly, elongating the word.
“Kate and I started dating when I was 16. We were on again off again throughout undergrad.” Stiles tried to not have a freakout moment because holy mother fucking shit that was a long ass relationship and he didn’t know that they’d been that intense, and that scared him. “Stiles, it wouldn’t be fair to you if I didn’t tell you that she is my weakness.”
Stiles didn’t know what to say to that, really.
“Not in a ‘I would leave you for her’ way, I swear to god. What happened on fall break wasn’t... I hadn’t planned on that happening, at all.”
“Derek,” Stiles said, trying out his voice. “We weren’t together on fall break.”
“I know, but-”
“Do you plan on getting back together with her?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head. “And on that note...about you talking about ‘us’? Is there an us? What... are we?”
“I’d like there to be an ‘us’.” Stiles’ stomach was doing flips. “I just needed you to know that she, that Kate, is trying to get back with me.”
“So she has been calling you since fall break?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded. “But if we are an ‘us’ then she will have to go through me, then.” Derek smiled at Stiles’ logic.
“I don’t share,” Stiles spouted out without thinking. “I mean, I have, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to share you with anyone else.”
“I don’t want to share you either,” Derek said, his voice quiet. Stiles practically climbed across the couch and into Derek’s lap, both of them putting their beers out of arms reach before their mouths crashed together. Stiles straddled Derek, his hands in Derek’s hair as the kiss deepened, as Derek placed one had on Stiles’ back, the other sliding lower, cupping his ass.
Stiles groaned, rocking his hips against Derek’s touch. Stiles gasped as Derek broke the kiss in order to mouth along his jawline, trailing down his neck, nipping at his skin. Stiles raked his teeth across his bottom lip, his eyes rolling back in his head as Derek’s hand slid around, up underneath his shirt. Stiles pulled it off without thinking, tossing it to the ground. Before he knew it, Derek was doing some sort of ninja maneuver where suddenly Stiles had his back pressed against the couch cushions and Derek hovering over him, holding onto his thighs, bringing Stiles’ legs up to wrap around him.
Stiles was surprised when Derek bent down, his hand running through the hair of Stiles’ happy trail, his tongue following behind him. Stiles arched his back as Derek mouthed over his jeans, looking up at him through heavy lidded eyes.
“Oh my god,” Stiles uttered, a hand running down his own chest. Derek’s hands deftly rid Stiles of his jeans, pushing them down his thighs just enough to free him. Stiles panted open mouthed as Derek leaned over and took Stiles in his mouth. “Fuck yes.”Stiles’ hands were in Derek’s hair as Derek bobbed up and down, moaning around Stiles’ length. Stiles’ legs fell open, stretching out as one hung off the couch, his toes curling as Derek took his balls in hand, rolling them gently as he licked and sucked, his cheeks hollowing out for a moment. Stiles shuddered at the sight.
Derek was his, and he was Derek’s, and they didn’t fucking share.
Stiles came in record timing, which, fucking bummer, but holy shit Derek swallows, and licks, and buries his face in Stiles’ stomach, Stiles’ fingers still in his hair. Stiles’ pupils were blown, his brain foggy, his body limp as he pulled Derek up his torso, towards his face. They kissed lazily, Derek laying on top of Stiles, their limbs tangled.
“You’re heavy,” Stiles muttered after his heart rate went down, evening out. Derek was still on top of him, his lips pressed against Stiles’ collarbone where he left a mark, red and wet.
“You taste good,” Derek countered. Stiles shifted beneath him as he laughed softly in Derek’s ear.
“I want to taste you,” Stiles whispered. Derek nodded.
“Later.” Derek said, maneuvering himself so that he was pressed against the back of the couch, his leg dangling over Stiles’ thighs. Stiles turned so that they were facing each other, an arm slipping around Derek’s waist.
“So blowing you later.”
“You two are officially not allowed to fuck in the living room,” Sam said, waking both Derek and Stiles up from their impromptu nap. “And be fucking lucky that I came in just when the timer was going off for your pizza,” she said as she turned the TV on, sighing as she sat down in a chair. “I am confiscating at least two pieces, by the way.”
Stiles was beet red as he scrambled to get his shirt on and pull up his pants fully. Derek looked nonplussed. Stiles was jealous that Derek didn’t seem to get embarrassed.
“It’s got pepperoni on it,” Derek said, smirking as he leaned over her, his arms on either side of the armrest. Sam glared at him. “You wouldn’t want that.”
“You owe me a mushroom and olive pizza you piece of shit,” she said, swatting at him. Derek backed away, only getting it in the arm. He did a faux flinch, as if stung. He walked into the kitchen to cut up the pizza as Stiles made his way to the bathroom to clean up.
When he came out, Derek had two beers, unopened, sitting next to their half empty ones, along with two plates with pizza on it all ready for them to eat. Stiles couldn’t hide his smile. Sam had control of the TV, choosing the Harry Potter marathon on ABC Family. It was on Goblet of Fire.
“I don’t like how they wrote Dumbledore in this one,” Stiles said, taking a bite of his pizza as he curled up on the couch. He had his pizza in one hand and beer in the other. He sat cross-legged watching the TV. “I mean, the book clearly states that Dumbles calmly asks Harry if he put his name in the Goblet of Fire.”
Derek was looking at Stiles with an amused expression. Stiles was nonplussed. “But in the movie he is angry-”
“Stiles, you just called him ‘Dumbles’.”
“Yeah, and?” Stiles said, taking a swig of his beer. “I call him Dumbles all the time, McGonagall is McGoogles... Don’t look at me like that.” Derek was laughing and Sam was biting her lip to keep from bursting into a fit of giggles.
“I didn’t know you felt this passionately about Harry Potter.”
“Do you not? Because that is grounds for dumping,” Stiles said, deadpan. Derek shook his head as he brought his beer up to his lips.
“Derek would be a Hufflepuff,” Sam said, smiling. Stiles nodded his agreement. Derek, though, shook his head.
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, you would, don’t lie. You are the most loyal person I know,” Sam said, looking to Stiles. “He is.”
“I can see that,” Stiles said, his voice low. “I’d be like, a mix of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Ravendor? Gryffinclaw? Something. I always get one of those when I get sorted.” Derek couldn’t stop grinning, amusement radiating off of him as he listened in. “Anyways, Dumbledore is so out of character here,” Stiles mumbled, finishing his pizza.
Halfway through the movie, Laura showed up, ranting about one of her sorority sisters and stolen shoes, or borrowed clothes, or something with cat fights in which Sam dragged Laura into her bedroom, locking the door behind them.
“Is it weird?” Stiles asked. Derek shrugged, knowing that Stiles meant that his roommate was dating, or seeing, or playing around with his sister.
“Laura does what she wants. Sam knows her, has known her for a long time. They are what they are.”
“So you know Sam through Laura?” Stiles asked. Derek thought for a moment, as if he couldn’t recall.
“I’m not sure, actually. I think she was a friend of Kate’s actually. Kate is Laura and Sam’s age, was in Laura’s grade in school. That’s how, uh, she knew me.” Stiles raked his teeth along his inner lip, not saying anything. Everything came back to Kate, it seemed. “But Sam was, is, a friend of Kate’s.” Stiles didn’t like that, but what was he could to do or say about it? Derek has a past that he is immersed in, has connections to. It wasn’t like Stiles didn’t have emotional baggage, only he wasn’t constantly surrounded by his.
“Ah,” Stiles ended up saying, for lack of a better word or phrase. He knew he was getting buzzed by the feel of his cheeks flushing, of that tingly feeling you get just beneath your skin. Stiles felt calm, felt cozy and at home, despite the talk of Kate.
“Laura didn’t start... with Sam until recently, though.”
“Interesting,” Stiles said, making himself get off the couch to head for another piece of pizza. On the way to the kitchen, he grabbed himself another beer as well. When he sat back down, it was closer to Derek.
“Question,” Derek said, his hand sliding across the back of the couch. If he dropped his hand a few more inches it’d be on Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles raised his eyebrows, looking at Derek as if waiting for said question to be asked as he ate his pizza. “When you say you’ve never been in a monogamous relationship...”
“I mean I’ve never been Facebook official or anything,” Stiles said after finishing a bite. “Like, my profile doesn’t even have a single or whatever on it, because to me it was pointless.” Derek was frowning at him and Stiles wasn’t entirely sure why. “I mean, that’s what you meant, right?”
“I just don’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to be with you,” Derek whispered and Stiles swore under his breath because Derek seemed to know just what to say. Stiles looked down at Derek’s lips, thinking about them on the couch earlier, about the day before, about his birthday. What a weekend. “What if I said that’s what I wanted?” Derek asked. Stiles’ choked on his breath, his eyes widening a bit.
“Really?” Stiles asked. Derek’s hand dropped from the back of the couch, resting on Stiles’ shoulder, his thumb sliding back and forth.
“Yeah, Facebook official.”
“I think that yeah, that would be awesome,” Stiles said, downplaying how he felt. Holy shit.
“I think once you finish that beer, though, I have to take you back to campus,” Derek said, leaning forward and pressing his lips against Stiles’ cheek. Stiles looked at the clock that was up on the wall and blanched. It was almost one in the morning.
“Shit,” Stiles said, elongating it as he downed the rest of his beer. “I’ve got an eight am class.”
“We can go now,” Derek said, getting up. Stiles huffed, his cheeks puffing out as he pouted. Of course the second he gets a boyfriend, he had to go home because he would regret it for the entire week. His life in a nutshell, basically.
At least he got a kickass kiss before he got dropped off at his dorm.
Stiles got ready for bed, then turned on his computer as he curled up in his bed, the light from his computer the only thing on in the room. Scott was gone, probably spending the night at Allison’s, and Isaac was already in bed. Stiles pulled up Facebook, a smile spreading across his face when he saw a friend request from Derek Hale. He accepted it immediately, then made his way to edit his profile. As soon as he put “in a relationship with Derek Hale”, he got a friend request from Laura Hale and Samantha McMillan. Stiles accepted their requests, then watched them both like the status update. Stiles rolled his eyes when Laura commented with ‘finally!!!’. He liked it, though, because why not? He shut his computer down, then attempted to go to sleep. It took him longer than normal.
You guys, I am somewhat obsessed with writing this fic and I am blaming your lovely comments because abgskjbdljsfioahiulkjh YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING!
yay facebook official and all that college-goodness!
this fic is such a fluffmonster idek what to do with myself.
Stiles felt like his Monday classes went by at a snails pace. In Comparative Studies he realized that he had an essay due on Wednesday, only five thousand words, but still, he had overlooked it. He would have to fit it in at some point, on top of the fact that he has a group project in Chemistry that he needed to work on and meet up with sometime in the next few days. He hated group projects, because he felt like he always took on most of the work, and he refused to have a horrible grade thanks to the rest of the group. Luckily, this time, Erica Reyes was in his group, which was good. Having someone he knew was always a plus. Some guy named Matt was in it as well, and a few others. Erica said she would spearhead the group and email everyone about times. Apparently she was even more of a control freak than Stiles was. He had enough on his plate as it was, so he let her arrange everything. He would show up when summoned and do his part, but for once he trusted that Erica would make sure the group didn’t fail.
Stiles met up with Derek on his lunch break at the dining hall. He had gotten a text from Derek between his classes, asking when he usually ate and where, so when Stiles walked up to the dining hall he grinned as Derek came into view, waiting for him.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Stiles said, smirking. Derek rolled his eyes before he leaned in and stole a kiss. Stiles still wasn’t used to the openness, to the public displays of affection. It was something he had always sneered at when other people did it, but he didn’t want to stop Derek from leaning in. He felt that pull, the want that was behind Derek’s displays, so he kissed him back.
“I love dining hall food,” Derek replied, completely deadpan. Stiles snorted back his laugh as they walked in. He only had about forty minutes before his Folklore class.
“You have URAP this afternoon?” Derek asked as they sat down with their food, both of them disposing of their various bags that they constantly carried around. Stiles nodded as he pulled out an unopened energy drink from his backpack, downing most of it in one gulp.
“Yeah, then Art History, then a night of studying in my dorm where Isaac and Scott will be loud and obnoxious because they were smart and didn’t overload themselves,” Stiles spouted out as he stabbed his lunch with his fork. Derek raised his eyebrows at Stiles as he chewed. Stiles let out a sigh. “Shit is catching up to me and I’m feeling a little overwhelmed on this lovely Monday. I hate Mondays, it’s like the weekend is so far away. Not that I have weekends really...”
“Stiles, you know you can come over and study at my place. It’s quieter.” Stiles bit his lip. “How much do you have to do tonight?”
“A lot,” Stiles supplied vaguely. Derek didn’t respond, so Stiles knew he wanted the long answer. “I have to start an essay I forgot about for Comparative Societies, I have to read for Medieval Europe because I have a quiz on the chapter, I have to write a response to the reading for Modern Russia, and I have to check my email because I might not even be able to do any of that tonight if Erica decided my Chem group is meeting tonight,” Stiles said, slouching down in his chair until his head was on his outstretched forearm. He was never sleeping again. There weren’t enough hours in the day. “Kill me now.”
Instead of ending his misery, Derek’s hand found Stiles’ outstretched hand, his fingers linking with Stiles’. Stiles sighed deeply, looking at Derek.
“No death, but my apartment can be used.”
“I’ll use your apartment,” Stiles said in a fake seductive voice. Derek looked down at his food, his eyes closing momentarily as he tried not to laugh. It failed, so he covered his mouth with his hand. “No but, uh, I’ll take you up on that. Can I text you once I’m out of Art?” Derek nodded.
“You want me to pick you up?” Stiles shook his head.
“No, I mean, the Art building is closer to you than it is to my dorm, so it won’t be a big deal if I just head over there when I’m done.”
“Alright,” Derek said, smiling.
“But no getting down, because I seriously have a shit ton of work to do.”
“Stiles, do you think I don’t know that?” Derek asked, frowning. “Me inviting you over to study wasn’t a euphemism for getting in your pants. You’ve got stuff to do, and me offering you use of my quiet apartment comes with no strings attached.”
“Okay, sorry,” Stiles whispered, sighing at himself. “I just... this relationship thing, I’m not used to it. I’m used to sex then nothing, then leaving, or being left.”
“Well there is none of that going on here,” Derek said, looking down at his phone as it started buzzing. He rolled his eyes as he hit ignore.
“Kate?” Stiles asked as he finished his lunch. Derek nodded, blowing air out the side of his mouth, cheeks puffed out in frustration. Stiles stood up, grabbing his energy drink with one hand and his bag with the other. He downed the rest of the drink, then put it on his tray to drop off.
“Well, tell her I said I’m not sharing,” he said as he hung his bag over his shoulder. Derek smirked, nodding once as he stood to join him in walking out of the dining hall. Stiles was surprised when Derek decided that he could walk with Stiles to his Folklore class.
“I’ve got some time,” Derek said, his hands in his pockets as they walked. Stiles tried to think what Derek usually did on Mondays, but he was drawing a blank.
“What does your afternoon look like?” Stiles asked.
“I’ve got some research to do for one of my professors, working on my thesis, dinner with Laura - usual Monday.” Stiles nodded.
“Library?” Stiles asked. Derek grinned.
“I’ll be there.”
Stiles’ Monday afternoons were reserved for URAP, because he had a three hour gap before his Art class. His biggest chunk of time he did his ten hours a week during was on Friday afternoons, after Chemistry, when he did five hours. That way, he only had to do two hours on Wednesdays. Stiles wanted to pull his hair out because basically every second of his life was accounted for. He had no time for himself, no time to spend with Derek, his boyfriend. He spent his URAP hours away from their table, but always made sure to pop his head in to see if Derek was there or not. Derek wasn’t there, which made Stiles’ shoulders sag, but he had work to do so he made his way to one of the closed off study group rooms that the library had within it. URAP had one designated for it so that students always had a place to sit and get their work done. Stiles didn’t like being in the room because it was always hotter and he felt like a zoo animal because there were windows that people could see through as he studied.
He dropped his things off, then walked around the corner to grab the books that he needed. He knew exactly where they were since he had been using them three times a week all semester. What he didn’t expect was to see Derek standing there in the stacks, holding one of the books he needed. He was leaning against the bookcase, his ankles crossed, the book open in his hand, eyes skimming over it like he was invested in reading it. Stiles crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow, clearing his throat. Derek looked up, smirking as he held the book against his chest, as if he planned on keeping it. Stiles bit his lip, taking a step forward, his arm extended as if he was going to reach out for it. Derek’s hand grabbed his wrist.
“Finders keepers,” Derek whispered into his ear. Stiles closed his eyes, readying himself for the kiss he knew was coming. Derek’s lips brushed across his mouth, begging entrance. Stiles complied. He heard the book dropping to the floor and thought for a second, about picking it up, but suddenly Derek’s hands were in his hair, on his stomach, slipping beneath the fabric of his shirt. Stiles held back from moaning as he pushed Derek back against the stacks.
Derek grunted, his hands coming up and cupping Stiles’ face, maneuvering him so that his neck was exposed. Stiles bit down on his lip as Derek licked up the length of his neck, one of his hands sliding down and cupping Stiles between his legs, palming at him through the fabric of his jeans. Stiles gasped.
“You’re an asshole,” Stiles rasped, his fingernails digging into the flesh of Derek’s arms. Derek laughed, his lips pressed against his skin, his mouth open, tongue teasing him. “We’re in the middle of the library,” Stiles hissed.
“Aren’t you in a study room?” Derek asked, his hand stroking against denim. Stiles shuddered, nodding.
“Yeah, but windows.”
“Research,” Stiles whispered. Derek nipped at Stiles’ earlobe. “Okay, fine.” Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand, the one fondling him, grabbed his books, tucking them under one arm, then dragged Derek into his study room. “Now what?” Stiles asked, his cheeks flushed. Derek smirked, tugging Stiles to the floor. Stiles’ things were on the table, along with his books, so people would know the room was occupied. Stiles toppled to the ground gracelessly, Derek climbing on top of him, spreading Stiles’ legs with his own knees. They were against the wall with the door, just under a window. No one could see them. Stiles whimpered as Derek pushed at his shirt, making it ride up. He licked at Stiles’ stomach and Stiles squirmed, his hips raising off the ground, his heart rate skyrocketing. Stiles’ brain was short circuiting as Derek mouthed at his pelvic bones, marking him, taking his time. Stiles’ palms were pressed against the carpet, his fingers strained as they tried to grip the flooring.
He heard his zipper when his brain decided to click back online.
“Stop, stop. Derek-”
The look on Derek’s face made Stiles lean his head back, letting it thump against the floor. He really, really wanted another blowjob. Stiles grimaced. “Sarah will be walking in any minute.”
“Who is Sarah?” Derek asked.
“Study buddy?” Stiles said with a question mark. “She is in URAP, she comes in on Monday afternoons, too.” Derek growled in frustration. Stiles held himself up by his elbows, liking that Derek was still between his legs. Stiles wiggled his legs, hitting his knees against Derek’s body. “How about a raincheck?”
“Hmph,” Derek said, frowning.
“What happened to this relationship not being about sex?” Stiles asked, teasing. Derek buried his face in Stiles’ happy trail. Stiles groaned, sitting up more, making Derek move. Just as they were in a less compromising position, Sarah walked in, her eyes darting back and forth.
“Ah, hey Sarah,” Stiles said, standing up as quickly as possible. Derek took his time, unphased. Stiles was jealous, yet again, of Derek’s inability to be embarrassed when caught. Stiles supposed his embarrassment all went back to his dad walking in on him; that had to be it. Sarah seemed to be just as embarrassed as Stiles was, except she couldn’t stop staring at Derek. Derek didn’t notice though, as he stood up and immediately kissed Stiles on the lips.
“I’ll see you at 9,” Derek said, before smiling and nodding his head once at Sarah before leaving. Once he was gone, Stiles cleared his throat and sat down, grabbing his books and scooting them closer to his things.
“Who was that?” Sarah asked, wide-eyed.
“Ah, Derek,” Stiles said, giving Sarah a small smile, his fingers running through his hair. “He’s my boyfriend.”
“Hot damn, Stiles,” she said, winking. “I want one.” Stiles laughed as he cracked open his book.
“You just get cuter and cuter the more exhausted you get. What sort of genes are you packing?” she asked, grinning, as she let him in. Stiles didn’t even know what to say to that. “Derek went out, he should be back any minute, though. He requested that I leave you alone.” By Sam’s tone, Stiles guessed that she didn’t have any intention of leaving him alone.
“Should I, uh, go in Derek’s room?” Stiles asked. Sam’s grin turned into a smirk.
“Why, feel like snooping?” Stiles’ eyes widened.
“No, I, uh... meant so that, if you wanted to watch TV - I have a lot to do, so...”
“Calm down, puppy, you can have the kitchen table? Or the couch? Which do you want to spread out around?” she asked, sensing his unease.
“The table is fine, thanks.” Stiles unpacked his things and got to work. He put on his music, choosing the Inception OST because Hans Zimmer wins hands down basically any day of the week. Stiles decided to do his reading first, before he started on his essay. He didn’t realize how much time passed until the door to the apartment opened and it was almost ten. Derek walked in, food in tow. Stiles’ stomach growled. Apparently Sam was hungry too, because she bolted up from the couch, grabbing the bags from Derek. Stiles looked up at him, noticing that Derek didn’t seem to be in the best of moods. Stiles took his headphones off as Derek approached him, his face shifting from stoic to relaxed. Stiles could get used to kisses on the forehead and Derek’s hand on his shoulders. He wanted to get used to it.
“How was dinner with Laura?” Stiles asked.
“Didn’t happen,” Derek supplied, sighing, exasperated. “So I brought us take out.”
“You’re a savior!” Sam called from the kitchen where she was grabbing her share.
“Do you want some?” Derek asked. Stiles’ stomach spoke for him. “You read, I’ll get you a plate.”
“Are there egg rolls?” Stiles asked as Derek started to walk away. Derek looked offended.
“Are there egg rolls,” was all he said in response. Stiles could practically feel Derek’s eye roll despite the fact that he couldn’t see his face. Stiles ate his weight in vegetable lo mein, sweet and sour chicken, and egg rolls before he finished his reading. He didn’t even start on his essay until around eleven thirty at which point Derek had gone to take a shower and had returned, hair wet, smelling amazing, wearing pajama bottoms and a white tank top. Stiles was immediately distracted. By midnight he was tapping his fingers idly against the keys of his computer. Derek was on the couch with Sam, watching TV. Every once in awhile Stiles could feel Derek’s gaze on him, but he knew if he gave in and took a break that he wouldn’t go back and his essay was due Wednesday. Five thousand well thought out words was a lot, in his current frame of mind. Typing words was like pulling teeth.
The next thing Stiles knew, Derek was pulling him to his feet, yanking out his ear buds. The side of Stiles’ face hurt and his glasses were off.
“What?” Stiles asked, his brow furrowed.
“We’re going to bed, Stiles,” Derek mused as they walked into Derek’s bedroom. Stiles whined as he fell into the bed, exhausted.
“Where are my glasses?” he mumbled as Derek unzipped his jeans for him, pulling them off.
“I’ve got them, putting them by the nightstand.”
“Okay,” Stiles said, not wanting to be awake for another second. He was vaguely aware of Derek climbing into bed with him, about the light going off and Derek covering him up with a blanket.
Stiles woke up to the smell of coffee. He opened his eyes to see a cup of it by the nightstand, next to his glasses. He sat up, rubbing his eyes with one hand as the other reached for his glasses. Once they were on, he took hold of the coffee mug, beneath it was a note from Derek:
‘Had to head to class, shower is yours, along with anything you want to wear. See you at our spot. - Derek’
Stiles looked at the alarm clock, he had an hour before class and ten minutes before his normal phone alarm would go off. The coffee was still hot, steaming, so he climbed out of the bed to see if Derek had, indeed, left yet or not. He walked out into the living room to see that it was empty, quiet. Stiles jumped in the shower quickly, then rummaged through Derek’s things looking for a clean shirt. He took a pair of boxers as well, knowing he didn’t have time to walk all the way back to his dorm until that night. Stiles’ eyes widened. He didn’t have any of his books for the day. He scrambled, pouring the rest of his coffee into a cannister to take with him. He had to run across campus to his dorm, then rush to his Modern Europe class. He stuffed his dirty clothes in his bag, then set off. As he was walking out of the apartment he heard a beep. He turned to look, as a reaction, and saw that it was Laura.
“Walk of shame?” she asked. She looked like she was about to park.
“Something like that,” Stiles said, his eyes squinting because of the sun. “Gotta run across campus, though. Can’t really-”
“Get in, I’ll take you,” Laura offered.
“I don’t want to impose-”
“Nonsense, I was about to go wake Sam up for some morning funtime, but she’ll still be there if I chauffeur you around first.” Relieved, Stiles got in.
“Thanks, I didn’t mean to spend the night so I don’t have anything for today-”
“That’s why you’re wearing Der’s shirt and you smell like him?” She asked, grinning. Stiles pursed his lips together to keep from laughing. “And here I thought you two were getting busy under the sheets.”
“Nope, I definitely passed out while studying last night.”
“Poor baby,” Laura said, pouting. Stiles laughed.
“Thanks though, for driving me. I wouldn’t have made it in time.”
“No problem, Stiles. Anytime,” Laura said as they pulled up to the dorm. Stiles thanked her again, then ran up to his room. He didn’t change his clothes, only dumped his books and dirty clothes out in exchange for the day’s classes. He cursed under his breath when he realized he left the coffee in Laura’s car. Sighing, he quickly left his sleeping roommates behind, only to get to class right as the professor was about to start.
Luckily for him, he had a two hour break before his Modern Russia class. He spent it outside with a cup of coffee and a sandwich. He sat on the lawn, in the sun, because it was a nice day out and he needed time alone. He looked over his essay from the night before, editing it before continuing on. He had over three thousand words left on it, and he didn’t want to spend all night on it this time.
“I want to take you out tomorrow,” Stiles said as he walked into the library after his Classical Greece class got out. Derek was seated at their table, like normal, his things spread out. Derek looked up at Stiles, his eyes landing on the shirt that Stiles had picked out. On Derek it was tight fitting, but on Stiles it was a bit baggy, due to the fact that Stiles wasn’t as built as Derek, despite being around the same height.
“Like a date?” Derek asked, smirking. Stiles rolled his eyes as he sat his bag down.
“Yeah, a date. A date date, if you will.”
“Sounds fun, I can’t wait.” Stiles smiled, his shoulders slumping as if he was relieved. “Can you take the night off?”
“Yeah, I did an extra hour of URAP Monday and will make up the other on Friday so I can get my classwork done in my normal URAP timeslot.”
“How romantic,” Derek mused. Stiles stuck his tongue out. “No, seriously. Moving your shit around like that, I’m flattered.”
“You’re going to make me blush,” Stiles said seriously. Derek smirked.
“I like it when you blush.”
Stiles grit his teeth, making a face as he willed himself not to redden. Derek laughed.
“You sleep alright?” Derek asked. Stiles sighed, nodding.
“I did. I’m sorry I passed out, I totally didn’t mean for that to-”
“Stiles, it’s okay. You’re exhausted. You needed to sleep. I wasn’t about to drive you all the way back to your dorm when you could barely walk to bed.”
“I just feel like... we’ve done a lot of sleeping together without actually sleeping together.”
“That’s true,” Derek said, nodding. “But that’s okay, Stiles. It isn’t just about sex.”
“I want sex, though,” Stiles blurted out. “I mean, sleep is good and-”
“Stiles,” Derek said, getting Stiles’ attention. “We’ll get there.” Stiles let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “There isn’t some guideline we need to follow, or a rulebook for this.” Stiles nodded in understanding. “For the record, I happen to like sharing a bed with someone.”
“Noted,” Stiles said, not hiding his smile. He had to admit, he had been sleeping better with someone else in bed with him, despite the confined space of his twin bed in his dorm. He rarely slept for long, when alone, due to his brain refusing to turn off, but something about feeling Derek next to him let his body relax. Stiles wanted to nap, to wrap his arms around Derek. Holy shit he wanted to cuddle, he was a cuddler. Never in his life did he think that he would be a cuddler. Stiles bit his lip as he booted up his computer.
Stiles felt weird as they left the library when it closed, to not be going home with Derek, or for Derek not to be going home with him. When he thought about it, he realized they had spent almost all of their time together since his birthday. They kissed goodnight, which was new and awesome in a way that Stiles couldn’t really describe. There wasn’t anything behind the kiss, really. Usually, in the past, when Stiles kissed or was kissed it was a lead up to sex and that was all it was. He didn’t kiss just because, he didn’t do anything that wasn’t a build up to something more. Derek, though, seemed affectionate to a fault. He constantly ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair, or brushed his shoulder, or kissed his cheek or forehead. Stiles liked it, although he didn’t return the gesture. He didn’t feel that pull, but enjoyed the feeling that Derek gave him when he showed him attention. Derek didn’t seem to mind that Stiles didn’t reciprocate it, didn’t mimic him by doing the same.
Stiles walked into his dorm to find his roommates playing video games, which wasn’t surprising at all. He ended up playing Halo with Scott until one in the morning, which he knew he would regret come morning. Stiles ended up passing out in his clothes, not even bothering to get under his covers.
Wednesday went by fast, probably because Stiles was excited. By the time he made it to the library around three, Derek was already there. They worked until almost six, deciding to call it quits for the day. They walked to Derek’s apartment, dropping their bags off, then jumped into his car to head to dinner. They ended up going to Jupiter, a pizza and brewery, because apparently they could never have enough pizza in their lives. Stiles got an IPA, whereas Derek went with the Stout. Stiles tried a bit of Derek’s, but he was more of Pale Ale sort of guy. Stouts were too dry too him for some reason.
What Stiles liked most about Jupiter was the fact that all of their pizzas were named after Mythology, but it was random. Like, there was Triton, Athena, and Aries, but then there was completely random ones like Io and Eutropia. They ended up getting the Cassiopeia which was chicken with sweet onions and barbecue sauce, which just so happened to be Stiles’ favorite constellation. Not that that was the reason behind him picking that pizza. Well, it was part of the reason, but that was beside the point. Stiles was on his second beer by the time the pizza came out. By the third piece, he was stuffed.
“What do you want to do after this?” Derek asked after he asked for a water, cutting himself off since he was driving. Stiles shrugged.
“I mean, I know I said I wanted like, dinner and a movie? But now I just want... you.” Derek licked his lips, nodding his head.
“Yeah, I want you too.”
“I figure, we should get the check, then,” Stiles said, laughing as he looked around for their waiter. He grabbed the check once it was brought over, despite Derek’s protests. “Nope, no. I told you I was taking you out.”
“No!” Stiles said, signing his name on the receipt. “Do you realize how many coffees you bought me?”
“Those were wooing coffees, though,” Derek teased. “Relationship coffees are different.” Stiles snorted. “Except you didn’t get that they were wooing coffees.”
“No, I didn’t,” Stiles said truthfully. “I just thought I found someone who understood my need for coffee.” Derek ended up leaving a tip on the table, which Stiles couldn’t really complain about. The drive back was short, and as they walked into the apartment, Stiles felt his stomach doing somersaults because holy shit they were going to fuck. It was going to happen, and they weren’t drunk, and he was Derek’s boyfriend. Stiles must have been showing signs of being overwhelmed, because Derek slipped a hand around Stiles’ waist, his mouth grazing over Stiles’ neck. Stiles shut his eyes, trying to shut his brain off.
“Aw, you two.” Stiles opened his eyes to see Laura sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. Both Stiles and Derek hadn’t seen her there.
“Laura,” Derek said, his voice resigned. “I thought you were going to out.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Der, we’re going,” she said, unmoving. “She’s getting ready.” Stiles’ heart was beating quickly in anticipation, his body reacting to the fact that Derek’s hand was still on his hip and that he was standing very, very close to him. “Have a good dinner?” Laura asked.
“Yeah, very,” Stiles whispered, clearing his throat to keep it from cracking.
“Good, I haven’t had Jupiter in forever-” Laura was cut off by her phone ringing. She looked down at it, her brow furrowing before she looked up at Derek. “Hey, Kate,” she said, making sure to say Kate’s name as she kept eye contact with Derek. Derek went stiff next to Stiles. “Yeah, I can talk...” Laura got up and walked towards the door. She mouthed ‘have fun, I’m gonna go out here’ as she pointed outside. Before Stiles knew it, Laura was outside. Stiles felt like Kate just killed the mood.
“Uh, so...” Stiles said, resigned to the fact that Derek probably wasn’t going to.
Derek pulled Stiles towards his room. “Oh, okay,” Stiles said, laughing awkwardly. “You still want to?” Stiles asked. Derek looked at him as if he had three heads.
“What?” Derek asked, confused for a moment before he realized what Stiles was worried about. “Stiles, Laura and Kate were best friends, are... good friends. Everything is a bit muddy.” Derek pulled Stiles close, pressing their bodies together. “I don’t give a fuck if Kate calls Laura, Laura can talk to her all she wants. What I want? Is you, on my bed, five minutes ago.” Stiles felt his body shiver, the sensation running up and down his limbs at Derek’s words. “Is that alright with you?”
“On the bed? Yeah, sounds good. Bed? Floor? Couch? I’m up for anything, really,” Stiles said clearing his throat, his hands sliding up and down Derek’s back, looking at Derek’s lips. Derek smirked, leaning in and capturing Stiles’ lips with his as they walked towards the bed. Stiles ended up on top, his legs straddling Derek as their tongues tangled and their hands roamed over each others bodies. Derek pulled at Stiles’ shirt until Stiles stopped kissing him long enough so that he could rid him of it. Derek used the opportunity to roll Stiles on his back, his hands working open Stiles’ jeans. Stiles was on autopilot, helping Derek push his jeans down his thighs so that he was wearing only his boxer briefs.
“This is rather uneven right now,” Stiles said, reaching for Derek’s shirt. Derek kissed Stiles, his tongue sliding against Stiles’ open mouth before he retreated long enough to toss his shirt to the floor. Derek’s fingers teased at Stiles’ nipples as Stiles nipped at Derek’s collarbone in retaliation, his teeth raking across the sensitive skin. Derek took it upon himself to pin Stiles’ hands above his head, holding him there.
“In a biting mood?” Derek asked. Stiles rolled his hips as an answer, rubbing against Derek, the friction making him moan. Derek leaned down, sucking at a nipple, making Stiles’ back arch.
“Only because I know you like it,” Stiles rasped as he panted. He was getting riled up already and he still had boxers on and Derek was still half clothed. “Too many clothes, Derek.” Stiles applied pressure to where Derek was holding onto him, but was unable to break free. His body flushed with how turned on he was. Derek swore under his breath, getting off of the bed. Stiles sat up, watching as Derek walked into the adjoined bathroom. He was worried for a second that he had said something wrong, but that thought was tossed quickly aside when Derek emerged with lube and a condom. Stiles reached down between his legs, stroking himself through the fabric of his boxers, a patch of wetness, precome, soaking through the thin cotton.
Before reaching the bed, Derek tossed the lube and condom onto it so that he could walk out of his jeans. He slid his boxers off at the same time so that he was standing there completely naked. Stiles shimmied to the end of the bed, throwing his legs over the side as he reached out, grabbing hold of Derek’s thighs, pulling him closer. Stiles wrapped his mouth around Derek’s cock, sucking on the head for a few seconds before his hollowed mouth traced up and down his length, tongue teasing him. Derek grunted, his fingers immediately raking through Stiles’ hair.
Stiles moaned, his fingers digging into Derek’s thighs as Derek guided his cock into Stiles’ mouth, controlling the pace. Stiles balled one of his hands into a fist as he opened his throat instinctively, Derek hitting the back of his throat as he thrust in and out of his mouth. Stiles’ eyes watered and he pulled away, gasping for air for a second before opening his mouth, tongue sticking out as if asking for more. Derek obliged, holding the back of Stiles’ head with one hand while the other felt his throat, felt the length of him slide down Stiles’ throat. He stilled for a few moments, until Stiles tapped against his thigh. Stiles pulled back, coughing, wiping his mouth as he looked up at Derek, licking his lips. Derek’s cock was dripping wet with Stiles’ spit and it made him throb between his legs. His eyelids were heavy with want as Derek leaned over and kissed him. It wasn’t sweet, or short like it normally was. No, the kiss was lewd, open mouthed and intense. Stiles opened his legs, his hand palming his hard on. Derek reached down, his fingers outlining Stiles’ cock, then slid across the hem of Stiles’ boxers before pulling at it, snapping it against Stiles’ skin.
Stiles moaned, lying back against the bed, using his arms and legs to scoot back. Derek watched him move, watched him hook his thumbs on the fabric of his boxer briefs and slide them down, catching for a second on his cock, a bead of precome dripping on his stomach. Stiles tossed his boxers to the floor, adding it to the mess that they’d already made. Derek grabbed hold of the lube as he looked down at Stiles.
“How do you want me?” Stiles asked, surprised at the sound of his own voice. He was panting, his voice breathy and quiet as Derek pondered. Stiles laid his head back against the pillow, spreading his legs wide, hands on his dick, on his balls. Derek moved, then, climbed onto the bed, stilling on his knees in front of Stiles.
“Like that,” was all Derek replied with. Apparently he wasn’t so talkative when it came down to fucking. Stiles liked that, he wasn’t one for dirty talk, and it relieved him that Derek seemed to be the same way. Stiles closed his eyes as he heard the lube being uncapped. He linked his ankle around Derek’s leg, letting the other fall to the side as he felt Derek’s finger, slicked up, press against his entrance. Stiles bit down, grunting as Derek breached him. Stiles stroked himself as Derek began fucking him with one finger slowly. He always liked to jack off as he was stretched, he found that it felt better, as he prepared to be fucked. It made him moan at every intrusion, everytime that Derek thrust into him. It was intimate, it felt monumental, after jacking off in the shower for months thinking about Derek and now he was about to be fucked by him. Stiles’ breath hitched in his throat as Derek added a second finger, stretching him slowly.
“Taking your time?” Stiles asked, his fingers splayed across his stomach as as he looked up at Derek, his hips moving against Derek’s rhythm. Derek pulled back and Stiles immediately felt the emptiness consume him, pouting, his fingers raking across his stomach as he breathed in deeply through his nose. Derek raised an eyebrow at him as he spread more lube between his fingers, showing Stiles three fingers. Stiles swallowed, nodding his head. “Yes, yes,” he whispered, licking his lips. It was a good burn, the feel of Derek’s thick fingers fucking into him, stretching him, readying him. Stiles ached for Derek’s cock. It was teasing him, hanging untouched between Derek’s legs. Stiles, propping himself up with one elbow, reached for it, tugging it as he wrapped his fingers around Derek’s length. Derek grunted, his hips rocking into Stiles’ fist as he fucked Stiles with three fingers. Stiles hissed, scooting closer, his legs open as wide as he could make them. His cock twitched between his legs, smearing precome across his stomach. “I’m ready,” Stiles gasped. Derek withdrew his fingers, and Stiles fell back against the bed, licking at his fingers, his eyes fluttering closed as heard the condom wrapper being ripped open.
Stiles’ eyes shot back open as he felt Derek press into him, sliding in slowly. He reached his hands out, finding Derek’s thighs, gripping them tightly as Derek eased into him, holding onto Stiles’ hips as he began moving within him. Stiles gasped, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he tried to meet Derek’s rhythm. Before he could, Derek shifted, his hands holding onto Stiles’ thighs as he picked up the pace, the sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, along with Stiles’ never-ending litany of noises. Derek’s mouth found Stiles’ as a hand held onto the back of Stiles’ neck, their chests pressing together as Derek’s hips pistoned against Stiles’. Stiles moaned continuously, unable to stop himself as Derek fucked him. Stiles’ mouth moved from Derek’s lips to his neck, to his collarbone, licking up his sweat, marking him.
Stiles could tell by the quickening off Derek’s pace that he was close, that he was just on the edge of coming. Stiles bit down on Derek’s neck, tongue lapping at it, fingers raking down Derek’s back. Derek shuddered, stilling as he came. He rode it out, continuing to fuck Stiles slowly, pulling out as he tried to catch his breath. Stiles’ legs felt like rubber, his mind fuzzy with want, his body already empty without Derek inside him, his cock felt heavy as it lay against his stomach, Derek moving Stiles like a rag doll, pulling him down the bed until his feet fell over the edge.
Derek, his knees on the ground, the palms of his hands flat against Stiles’ stomach, took Stiles into his mouth. Stiles arched his back, oversensitized. He pulled at Derek’s hair, his leg twitching as he came down Derek’s throat. He had been so close to coming without help that the second Derek’s tongue touched him it sent him over the edge. Stiles groaned, laughing through his orgasm, covering his mouth with one hand as his stomach spasmed. He felt his muscles contracting, felt his toes curling.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Stiles murmured, swallowing, trying to wet his dry mouth. He couldn’t move, let alone think. Derek fucked him raw, hard. He would definitely be feeling it the next day, and probably the day after that as well. He was vaguely aware that Derek had gotten up, that he had opened the bedroom door.
Stiles was brought around to the fact that a cool glass of water was pressed against his cheek. Stiles flinched away from the cool glass, despite how good it felt against his flushed skin. He could feel his blood pumping through his veins, throbbing. He sat up, gulping the water down. Derek was wearing his boxer briefs, and his socks. He hadn’t taken off his socks. Stiles found it hilarious.
“We, just fucked, and you were wearing socks.” Derek smirked.
“Post fuck high, Stiles?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded, falling back against the bed, adjusting his glasses.
“Bliss, more like.”
“Want a cigarette?”
“Are you joking?” Stiles asked. Derek shrugged. “Do you-”
“No, not normally. Just always think about, after a good fuck session, how good it would feel just to light up a cigarette and take a long drag, like it was some sort of spectacular feat.” Derek was crawling up on the bed, pulling Stiles closer to him. Stiles, all dead weight now, barely moved. Derek’s hand found Stiles’ instead, their fingers intertwining.
“Session?” Stiles asked, his voice rising. Derek grinned.
“That was only round one.”
*dances around* that was officially... the longest I have gone without writing sex in a fic, ever. Glad that wait is over, tbh!
Thanks for the comments guys, they are keeping my chin up!
Despite the fact that it was a bit painful to walk, Stiles had a good day. Well, a quick day. Stiles texted Derek throughout the day, something they didn’t normally do. He had spent the night, again, but this time they had taken the time to go to Stiles’ dorm room to gather some of his things, between another round of fucking and a short shower session, in which there had been less washing than they had originally intended.
Stiles was sore, but happy. No, he was more than happy - he was ecstatic. He couldn’t move without thinking about Derek, without thinking about Derek fucking him into the mattress.
‘Library?’ Stiles texted, asking Derek if he was there. Derek responded almost immediately.
‘No, got held up. Will be there soon.’ Stiles frowned, but pushed the thought from his mind because what he needed was coffee. He hadn’t had time to grab any before his morning full of classes, so he was in serious need of some caffeine in his system.
He walked into the library, to their table, and stopped dead in his tracks. There was someone, not Derek, at their table. Actually, it was a bunch of someones. A study group. Stiles didn’t even know what to do, so he just stood there, his eyes wide. They stared. He turned around and around until he found a free table. He didn’t even know how to describe its whereabouts to Derek so that he would be able to find him later.
‘Our table is occupied.’
‘Those bastards,’ Derek responded with. Stiles covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Stiles texted semi directions to Derek, hoping that he would be able to find him.
Thirty minutes later, Derek called him.
“Marco,” Derek said. Stiles smiled.
“Polo,” Stiles whispered.
“Louder! Can’t find you,” Derek teased. Stiles bit his lip, running his fingers through his hair as he stood, twisting his body, looking for Derek in a sea of tables. He spotted him across the expanse of room. “Ah, there you are.” Derek walked towards him, hanging up his phone. Stiles pocketed his phone, then waited for Derek to get to him. “Hey,” Derek said when he was finally standing in front of him. Stiles grinned as Derek’s lips met his in a quick kiss.
“Hey,” Stiles whispered. Derek looked at their table, sighing.
“This is less than desirable.”
“It’s like we are cheating on our spot,” Stiles agreed. Derek smirked.
“We’ll get it back,” Derek said as he sat down, sighing again. Stiles frowned as he sat down across from him. Derek’s leg extended, finding Stiles’ foot, leaning his foot against Stiles’. “I had a bad day,” Derek confessed.
“Anything I can do?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head.
“Just being here is making it better.”
“What happened?” Stiles asked, concerned. “Was it... Kate?” Derek didn’t meet his eyes. Stiles’ jaw set tight. “What the fuck is she even doing, Derek?”
“She saw my Facebook status,” Derek said, defeated. Stiles’ back stiffened.
“She wasn’t happy about it.”
“Well I am happy about it, does that matter?” Stiles asked, his voice a little more menacing than he meant it to be.
“Of course it matters,” Derek responded. “It matters a lot, actually. I just spent the last hour practically yelling at her.” Stiles fell back against his seat. Derek’s leg was still pressed against his, clearly wanting to be close to Stiles, using him for support.
“You were yelling?” Stiles asked, unable to picture it. He didn’t really want to see Derek angry, not really. Derek was so calm around him. Stiles knew that, if enraged, Derek would be downright scary. Sort of like how people could never picture him angry, until he was red faced and fists clenched.
“I did a fair bit, yeah. She was out of line, basically acted like...” Derek sighed, running his fingers through his hair angrily. “Like I was cheating on her with you.”
“What?” Stiles asked, his eyes wide, momentarily worried that Derek and Kate weren’t, indeed, exes.
“She’s delusional, Stiles. We’ve broke up almost six months ago.” Stiles relaxed, slightly. “She should be leaving me alone, now.”
“‘Should’ being the key word there?” Stiles asked, his jaw set tight.
“She will leave us alone.”
“Promise?” Stiles asked. Derek reached across the table, extending his hand palm up for Stiles to take. Stiles looked at it, contemplating. He slowly slid his fingers against Derek’s until they were intertwined.
“I promise.” Stiles snorted.
“We’ll see,” he said, pulling his hand back. “But I just don’t like how she makes you all tense.”
“I don’t like it either,” Derek said evasively, seemingly ending the conversation. “How much work do you have?”
“Normal shit, reading everything known to man... should be done around closing. Unless you had other ideas?”
“I didn’t have any, but now that you mention it... you up for it?” Stiles bit his lip. No, he wasn’t. “That face says no.”
“Ah, just... a little sore,” Stiles said, his cheeks reddening as he pulled out his books from his backpack. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not open to other options.” he said, grinning. Derek chuckled under his breath.
“How about we talk about it after we finish our work?” Stiles nodded, pulling out his headphones and scrolling through his itunes, looking for an album he wanted to listen to. He decided on the first Pirates of the Caribbean OST, for epic reading.
Stiles kept his hunger at bay until around eight. He shut his books, despite the fact that he was not done because he felt like his stomach was eating itself.
“Want to stop by Common Grounds and pick up something to eat really quick?” Stiles asked as he packed his things. “I am so done reading. If I read anything else I’ll go cross-eyed.”
“Are we going to your place?” Derek asked, his brow furrowed. Stiles bit his lip, his shoulders slumping.
“I guess not, no. Isaac and Scott will be there.”
“We can go to mine, grab something off campus, or I can make us something.”
“I just want to eat something quick, to be honest.”
“Any reason?” Derek asked as he put his computer away and stood up. Stiles gave Derek a pointed look. “So you have a few ideas, then? About what we can do?”
“Oh, I have a few,” Stiles said vaguely.
They made their way to Derek’s, surprised to find that Sam wasn’t in. Stiles made himself comfortable on the couch, laying down as he turned on the TV, flipping through the channels as Derek stuck his head in the fridge.
“I have... well, I need to go grocery shopping. So we have Morningstar food, which is technically Sam’s, popcorn, hot dogs-”
“What kind of popcorn?” Stiles asked. “Movie theater style?”
“No, kettle corn,” Derek said, sighing.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I like kettle corn.”
“Are you just saying that so that we can eat really quick?” Derek asked. Stiles laughed, nodding his head.
“You caught me. I’m starving, actually, but really, if you have peanut butter and jelly I will be golden.”
“Uh, we do, actually,” Derek said, as he opened cupboards, then closed them as if looking for the peanut butter. “Creamy or crunchy?.”
“Good,” Derek said, his voice a little softer. Stiles grinned to himself. “Want me to make-”
“No, no. I can do it,” Stiles said, getting up, stretching. “You don’t know my peanut butter to jelly ratio.” Derek laughed, handing Stiles a knife, with peanut butter already on it from Derek’s sandwich. Derek had a bit on his thumb, so he licked at it. Stiles stared at him as he did it, his jaw hanging open slightly. “Uh.”
Derek noticed Stiles’ reaction, smirking. Stiles made a face, then made his sandwich.
“You don’t put even amounts of both?” Derek asked, looking over Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles made an affronted face.
“No, peanut butter is the best part. It is more like 70/30.” Derek arched an eyebrow at Stiles as he watched him put his two pieces of bread together, peanut butter spilling out around the edges. Stiles licked at it before he took a bite. He hadn’t realized that Derek had been watching him. Stiles chewed for a moment. “Milk?” he asked. Derek made a gesture that meant ‘help yourself’. Stiles put his sandwich down on a paper towel, then grabbed a glass to pour himself some milk. He felt five, but he didn’t care. He loved milk with peanut butter and jelly. He pointed at his glass, his mouth still full of sandwich, as if asking if Derek wanted some.
“I’m good,” Derek mused. Stiles finished his sandwich, then downed the short glass of milk in one go. He rinsed it, then put it in the dishwasher. “Better?” Derek asked as Stiles wiped his mouth. He nodded, walking close to Derek, his head resting against Derek’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” Stiles answered, knowing that was what Derek was referring to. Derek’s hands slid down his back until they landed on his ass, cupping him. Stiles closed his eyes, hissing slightly as his hands tugged at Derek’s shirt. “Yep, very sore.” He could feel Derek pouting against his neck as he began kissing it.
Derek’s mouth trailed up Stiles’ neck until he captured Stiles’ lips with his, his hands moving up Stiles’ body, his nails dragging over his skin where he hiked up Stiles’ shirt. “Yeah, we’re moving this?” Stiles gestured between them, “Onto your bed.” Stiles grabbed hold of Derek’s waist as he started walking towards Derek’s room. Halfway there, Derek pinned Stiles against the wall, spreading Stiles’ knees with his thighs. Stiles let out a breathy laugh, his eyes closing as he let Derek rid him of his shirt in order to mark his collarbone. Stiles licked his lips, gasping for breath as Derek’s hand cupped him over the fabric of his jeans.
“Are you going to let me in on your ideas?” Derek asked, his lips pressed against Stiles’ neck, just underneath his earlobe. Stiles groaned, nodding his head slightly.
“Yep, just get me on the bed,” Stiles said, popping the ‘p’ in ‘yep’. Derek practically flung Stiles into his room, which was no mean feat considering they were the same height, Stiles was just a bit leaner than Derek and didn’t pack the muscle that he did. Stiles bounced onto the bed, laughing a bit as he crawled on it, his shoulders and heels pressed into the mattress, hips in the air as he unzipped his jeans, shoving them down his thighs. He kicked his jeans off unceremoniously, his tongue sticking out as he did it. Derek watched him with an eyebrow arched. “Come on,” Stiles said, extending his hand out, grasping Derek’s wrist tugging him on the bed. Stiles pulled Derek’s wrist until his palm was pressed against Stiles’ growing bulge. Their lips crashed together, Derek moaning as his fingers outlined Stiles’ cock over the fabric of his boxer briefs. Stiles smiled into the kiss, his hand releasing Derek’s wrist so that he could work on getting Derek out of his jeans.
Stiles shoved them, along with his briefs, down Derek’s thighs, freeing his half-hard cock. Stiles, leaning back, holding himself up with an elbow, took Derek into his mouth. Derek groaned, his hips rocking gently, fucking Stiles’ mouth shallowly as his hand slipped beneath the fabric of Stiles’ briefs. With his other hand, he maneuvered himself the rest of the way out of his jeans, making Stiles pull back from him momentarily. Stiles wiped his mouth absently looking up at Derek, his lips red and swollen already from blowing him. Derek ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair as he guided him back to his cock. Stiles licked up his length, teasing him, before taking him back in his mouth.
Stiles tilted his hips, opening his legs wide. Derek smirked, nodding his head.
“Ah, you have the best ideas, you know that?” he answered, leaning over and taking Stiles into his mouth. Stiles made a noise, a gargled moan deep in his throat as Derek jacked him off as his tongue teased his head. Stiles gasped, pulling back from Derek, his hand wrapping around his length as he panted for breath.
“Jesus, fuck,” he rasped, hips rolling up, fucking into Derek’s mouth. “Come on, straddle me,” Stiles said, falling down onto his back fully, his hands on Derek’s thighs, urging Derek to straddle his face. Derek moved, complying. Derek’s cock hung down between his legs and Stiles stuck his tongue out, extending his neck just enough that he could lick at Derek’s head, suck on it lightly. Derek bucked his hips, forcing himself in Stiles’ mouth. Stiles, his hands gripping Derek’s thighs, pressed him down onto him.
Derek’s mouth on him felt amazing, his body practically laying on top of him, pressing him down against the mattress. He could barely breathe, but he liked it, wanted it that way. A shudder went through Stiles’ body, his back arching slightly, his legs moving involuntarily as he opened his throat further, taking as much of Derek into his mouth as he could. Derek was rolling his hips, fucking Stiles’ mouth, hitting the back of his throat with every thrust. Stiles raked his fingernails down Derek’s thighs as his stomach muscles tightened, fucking up into Derek’s mouth, coming down his throat.
Derek pulled back once Stiles was done, his hand wrapped around Stiles’ oversensitized cock, milking him for all he was worth. Stiles gasped, pushing up at Derek. Derek knelt behind Stiles’ back, his thumb playing across Stiles’ head, smearing remnants of come around. Stiles whimpered, biting his lip as he looked up at Derek. Somehow, his glasses had been discarded at one point, because his vision was fuzzy. Derek’s fingers slid slowly up Stiles’ chest until his thumb played at Stiles’ bottom lip. Stiles opened his wet, fucked out mouth and took Derek’s thumb into it, sucking lazily. When Derek pulled his thumb back, Stiles opened his mouth, tilting his head back slightly, sticking his tongue out.
“And what do you want me to do with your mouth looking like that?” Derek asked, his voice huskier than normal, as if it pained him to talk. Stiles stuck his tongue out further. Stiles’ hands reached to either side of himself, clenching his fists around the sheets of Derek’s bed. “Do you want me to fuck your mouth? Or just come in it?” Stiles shut his eyes, as if thinking.
“Fuck it,” he answered after a few moments of silence. Derek cupped Stiles’ face with his hands, guiding his cock into Stiles’ mouth.
“Okay, Stiles. You let me know if I’m hurting you,” Derek warned, his voice soft, reassuring. Stiles nodded, his hands releasing the sheets, grabbing hold of Derek’s thighs once more so he could tap on them if he needed to breathe. Derek began moving, thrusting deep into Stiles’ mouth, down his throat. Stiles tensed, his eyes shutting as he felt the stretch, choking slightly. Derek didn’t stop, though, and Stiles didn’t want him to.
When Stiles needed to breathe, he tapped Derek’s thighs a few times, then waited for him to pull back. When he did, Stiles gasped, his chest heaving. As soon as he was ready he tapped again. This time as Derek fucked his mouth, he had his hands over Stiles’ throat so that he could feel his cock down Stiles’ throat.
“Jesus Christ, Stiles,” Derek sputtered, stilling over him. Stiles’ eyes watered, his grip tight enough on Derek’s thighs that he knew he could leave finger tip shaped bruises. Derek came down Stiles’ throat. As he pulled out, slowly, Stiles sucked on his head, his tongue lapping up every last drop. Derek shuddered, his thumb playing over Stiles’ swollen, red lips. Stiles, his mouth remaining open, closed his eyes as he relaxed. “We really need to talk about how you learned shit like that,” Derek growled. Stiles grinned, humming with contentment. Derek got off the bed, leaving Stiles long enough to wash up.
Stiles must have fallen asleep, because he was jolted awake when a warm wash cloth glided across his stomach, cleaning him up. He opened his eyes to find that his glasses had been returned. Stiles swallowed, wincing.
“Water,” he said, sitting up. He pulled on his boxer briefs, walking into the kitchen and downing almost an entire glass. As he walked back into Derek’s room, he picked up his discarded shirt, pulling it back on. Stiles crawled onto Derek’s bed, where Derek had made himself comfortable, a book laying in his lap. “Ew, no Psych in bed,” Stiles said, pushing it off of Derek’s lap.
“Some of us weren’t done with their work for the day,” Derek mused. Stiles grumbled.
“I’m not done either, but I’m not done with my ideas.”
“You’re not?” Derek asked, genuinely surprised. Stiles took Derek’s pillow, laying his head on it, his feet playing with Derek’s absentmindedly.
“Okay, I am so done. Exhausted, even. Exhausted and sore in a bunch of places now, thanks.”
“Not my idea,” Derek reminded him. “Definitely not my idea.”
“You liked it, though,” Stiles pointed out, his face burying itself in Derek’s pillow.
“I did,” Derek confessed. “A lot.”
“Good,” Stiles answered, his voice muffled by the pillow. He shifted a bit so he could look back up at Derek. Stiles sighed. “I feel like... like I don’t know enough about you.” Derek frowned down at him.
“What do you mean?” Derek asked, scooting down so that he was laying face to face with Stiles. Stiles licked his lips.
“I mean, I didn’t know that you and Kate were still so connected. I don’t know anything, really. I don’t know what your favorite movies are, or what bands you listen to. I want to know what food you hate, if you ever had a dog, if you have a football team-”
“My favorite movie is Pulp Fiction. I Iove Tarantino, I can quote Reservoir Dogs and Inglourious Basterds all day long. As for bands, I love Tool, a lot, and A Perfect Circle-”
“Did not see that one coming.” Derek grinned at Stiles’ remark.
“I like the Deftones, too.”
“Noted,” Stiles mused, moving closer to Derek, his hand resting on Derek’s stomach.
“I hate peas, and I’m not a fan of Indian food. I can’t handle a lot of spice.”
“Bland food for Derek, got it.” Derek snorted at him, his eyes closing briefly.
“Whatever you say,” he mumbled. “I had a dog, yes. He was the family dog, though. Ah, he was with my family when-”
“Yeah, okay,” Stiles said, not wanting to bring up the fire. “No fire talk.”
“Fire talk is going to have to happen if you want to know about me,” Derek said truthfully.
“I just don’t want to bring something up that will make you sad.”
“Remembering my family, my dog, won’t make me sad. I actually think of them all the time without getting sad. Especially closer to the holidays.”
“I think about my mom a lot around Christmas, and Thanksgiving,” Stiles whispered. Derek nodded.
“Anyway, Guster was the family dog, a black lab. He was awesome, and followed me around everywhere. He was protective of Anna. He, uh, probably was with her...” Derek trailed off for a second, sighed, then continued on. “And I don’t have a football team, I was always more of a baseball guy. But in school I actually swam.”
“Wow I feel like you are a whole new person right now,” Stiles said, his eyes widen in mock surprise. Derek dramatically rolled his eyes.
“Alright, Stiles. Your turn-”
“I’m scared,” Stiles said, cutting Derek off. Derek smirked at him.
“How the fuck did you learn to do what you did with your mouth? How can you eat so many cookies and be as lean as you are, because if I ate that many cookies-”
“Oh, okay,” Stiles laughed. “You, the Greek God of muscles.” Derek reached over, tickling Stiles. Stiles squirmed, panting for breath. “No, stop. Can’t. Breathe.” Derek held up. “Okay, so, cookies. My metabolism is the shit, that is all I have on that front. I ran track in school, so maybe that helps? I ran track and attempted lacrosse, but was mostly a bench warmer. I had a lot of excess energy in school, so I ran.”
“So at the gym if I asked if you ran-”
“Well, I can run? But I get rather bored of it after a bit. I just... I need something else to do if I am running.”
“And as far as... my mouth,” Stiles licked his lips, swallowing before he continued, “well, that goes back to the whole... not really being in a relationship thing?” Stiles looked down at Derek’s chest. “Not the best self-esteem in high school, thought I could get it by being good at head? Like, really fucking good. Turns out, people would just want that, so.”
“High schoolers are shitty,” Derek supplied. Stiles concurred, nodding his head.
“I learned that, believe me. Uh, I took a sort of sabbatical,” Stiles chuckled at himself, rolling his eyes, “from sex. I mean, freshman year was much of the same as high school, so I sort of just, decided to study. I took summer classes and loaded the fuck up on my course work because I still want to graduate in four years despite the fact that I’m double majoring. I don’t want to be in school forever, even though I will need to get my masters.”
“You’re putting a lot on your plate.”
“I know,” Stiles said, looking back up at Derek, expecting for him to look at him differently. He was, in a way, but not in the way that Stiles was used to. Derek leaned in and kissed him. “I think I can handle it,” Stiles said, his lips pressed against Derek’s.
My kinks, let me show you them.
Thank you for not only reading, but also commenting. It really means a lot :)
“What are you being for Halloween?” Laura asked from the kitchen. She and Sam were elbow deep in pumpkin guts while Stiles was curled up on the couch, his Folklore book in hand. Stiles didn’t answer automatically, because he hadn’t really thought about it. “Stiles, don’t make me pick for you,” Laura reprimanded. “Halloween is my favorite holiday.”
“It’s true,” Sam said as she put a pile of pumpkin seeds off to the side so that they could roast them. Stiles sighed, running his fingers through his hair.
“I hadn’t thought about it,” he called out. Derek was out grabbing dinner, pizza, because the kitchen had been overtaken. “There’s still time.”
“Hell no there isn’t!” Laura said, flinging pumpkin innards onto the table, which was covered in newspaper. “I expect a well thought out costume.”
“I’m going to be a vampire,” Stiles said, turning the page in his book. He had a blanket wrapped around him; he was basically cocooned in warmth. He hated turning the pages because then his hand was no longer warm.
“Veto,” Laura said. Stiles pouted.
“Because that is a cop out. You dress normally-”
“Zombie,” Stiles said, interrupting her.
“You get negative five points for not being creative.”
“What are you being?” Stiles asked.
“Sam and I are being Columbia and Magenta from Rocky Horror,” Laura said, practically bouncing into the living room, her hands covered in orange stickiness. Stiles made a face. “Come get your pumpkin ready.”
“I’ve got reading-”
“No,” Laura said, her leg coming up and kicking Stiles gently. “Break time. All you do is study. I bet you even study in your sleep, or while you and Derek are fuck-”
“Okay, okay,” Stiles said, untangling himself from the blanket. “I’ll carve a pumpkin. But it will require beer.”
“We have beer!” Laura called out from the kitchen. She was seated now, separating the pumpkin seeds, readying them for the oven. “We’re also making like, five different flavors of pumpkin seeds.”
“What, really?” Stiles asked. “Like, what? I’ve only had regular.”
“I make these awesome spicy ones that Derek hates obviously,” Laura said, rolling her eyes, “with cayenne pepper and thyme.”
“My favorites are the pumpkin pie ones,” Sam said, smiling. Stiles waited to hear what was on those, because he loved pumpkin pie, especially homemade.
“That has cinnamon, ground ginger, and nutmeg,” Laura said, winking. “By the look on your face I can tell that you are going to want to take some of those home.” Stiles smiled.
“Good, now gut your pumpkin so we can use its innards!”
By the time Derek arrived, Stiles was browsing online sites for pumpkin ideas. He was thinking about something simple, like Jack Skellington.
“Pizza has arrived,” Derek said, looking over Stiles’ shoulder. “You know, I was thinking about carving Oogie Boogie on my pumpkin.”
“Badass,” Stiles said, hitting print on Jack Skellington. “We’ll sort of match, then.” Derek set the pizza down on the kitchen counter. He got two, an olive and mushroom for Sam, and whoever, then a pepperoni for the rest. Stiles had a slice of both, as did Derek. Laura stuck to pepperoni, which surprised no one.
“Are you making the ones with garlic and worcestershire sauce?” Derek asked, looking at the piles of pumpkin seeds.
“I wasn’t planning on it, but we can use your pumpkin’s seeds for those if you want,” Laura said as she carved her pumpkin.
“You guys go all out,” Stiles murmured as he taped his picture to his pumpkin, getting ready to poke holes in it before he started to carve. “My dad and I never did much for Halloween.” Derek and Laura exchanged glances.
“Our family was big on Halloween,” Laura said, smiling sadly. “Really big. Like, used to carve a ton of pumpkins, decorated the entire house, played creepy music for trick or treaters. All that jazz.”
“We’ve tried to keep it up,” Derek supplied, knifing his pumpkin, beginning his duty of gutting it. “It’s hard at school, though.”
“So we do the pumpkins, and roast seeds, and dress up,” Laura said, pointing her knife at Stiles mock threateningly. “Oh, Der, Sam and I are being Columbia and Magenta for Halloween, care to be my... Riff Raff?”
“I’m not being Riff Raff again,” Derek muttered.
“You were Riff Raff?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded.
“Yeah, in high school.”
“You should be Rocky,” Stiles said under his breath. Laura burst out laughing, nodding her head in agreement.
“You could be Frankenfurter,” Sam suggested. Stiles, his eyes wide, shook his head no. “Garter belt and corset? Yes please.”
“No, nope. Veto,” Stiles said, his hands making wild gestures. “No.”
“You could be Frankenfurter with the surgeon’s frock on, and the gloves!” Laura said, clapping. “Oh, oh... Yes! That way you just need to wear fishnets and pearls.”
Laura looked to Derek, pouting.
“Der, Stiles isn’t playing along.”
“I’m not being Rocky,” Derek supplied, then sighed. “But Stiles in fishnets-”
“Hey!” Stiles said, throwing a wadded up piece of paper at Derek.
“That could be for the bedroom afterwards?” Derek asked, smirking. Stiles stuck his tongue out at him.
“Fuck it, I’m being Han Solo,” Stiles said with finality. Laura clapped.
“I approve of that decision.”
“Derek should be Thor. Oh! Or James Bond. Derek, be James Bond.”
“Oh, James Bond,” Stiles said, his eyes widening. Derek rolled his eyes. “You could go around all night drinking dry martini’s saying ‘shaken, not stirred’.
“The only way that would work is if you were my Bond Girl.” Stiles made a face.
“That is me back in tights again. I’m vetoing tights of any kind.”
“Be Q,” Laura suggested. “You could pull it off. You already sort of dress like him and your hair does that thing,” Laura said, her hands gesturing around her head. Stiles made a face. “Oh, or be Harry Potter. Hell yeah, school uniform and a scar.”
“But Han Solo,” Stiles said, frowning.
“Be Han,” Derek said, nodding his head once. “I’ll be Bond.”
“We can be badasses together,” Stiles said warmly, tilting his head to the side. Derek smiled in return.
Laura’s sorority was hosting a big Halloween party, so Stiles promised he would show up. He made sure that Scott was coming too. He remembered when they were younger, when they used to go trick or treating together. They basically spent every Halloween together and this year was no different.
“I don’t even have a costume,” Scott said, sighing.
“Be Spider-man,” Stiles said from where he was sitting on his bed, his Chemistry book laying in his lap, his highlighter tapping against it absentmindedly.
“I was Spider-man last year,” Scott said, frowning. “I can’t be him again.”
“Be... the Luke Skywalker to my Han Solo.”
“Be Bones from Star Trek-”
“I was already Bones. Two years ago.”
“You’ve got to throw me a bone here, man. I don’t know- Oh! Okay, how about... you be Harry Potter. You can totally use my costume from last year.”
Scott made a face at Stiles. Stiles scrambled off his bed and pulled a container out from underneath his bed.
“You don’t have it with- you have it with you. Seriously?”
“Fuck yeah I do. Gryffindor tie and Harry Potter glasses. Except, I just wore my regular glasses. Just make your hair stick up oddly and draw a scar on your head. Or if you don’t want to draw a scar then just be James Potter,” Stiles said, shrugging as he threw the tie in Scott’s direction. “Grey slacks, dude.”
“Ugh,” Scott said, frowning. “Allison said she was going to be a Disney Princess. I don’t remember which she said. Snow White?”
“Oh, nice. You guys aren’t doing something coupley?”
“No, are you and Derek?” Scott retorted. Stiles stuck his tongue out at Scott as he climbed back into his bed, grabbing his book.
“No, but we are both being badasses, so sort of?” Stiles said, reaching for his phone as it started ringing. It was Derek. Stiles smiled as he answered it. “007, wasn’t expecting to hear from you,” Stiles said in a mock British accent that sounded nothing like any dialect known to man. In response, Derek only chuckled.
“Do you want me to call you M?”
“Uh, I am totally Q in this relationship.”
“Q, your presence is requested by... M. Meet me downstairs in ten minutes.” Derek hung up, leaving Stiles confused, but excited. He looked down at what he was wearing, sweats and a sleep t-shirt.
“Shit,” Stiles mumbled as he practically fell out of bed. He needed to do laundry, desperately. He had been avoiding it since he was rarely in his dorm anymore, unless he was sleeping. He found a pair of jeans that smelled fine, to him anyways, and a shirt. He put on deodorant, then attempted to do something with his hair. It was a lost cause at this point, though. He really, really needed a haircut. Badly.
It would have to wait, though. He liked when Derek tugged on it, a lot. Stiles groaned, rubbing his eyes as his phone started buzzing. He bid Scott a good night, he didn’t know when he would be back, then ran down the stairs and out to Derek’s car. He hadn’t even checked to see what the text message had said until he climbed in the car, with Laura and Sam in the back seat.
The text was from Derek. All it read was: ‘double date.’ Stiles’ eyes widened as he looked at Derek as they drove off.
“You certainly clean up nice,” Sam said sarcastically. Stiles turned around, pouting, to look at Sam and Laura. They had on skirts. Derek was wearing nice slacks. Stiles laughed at himself, putting his seatbelt on, then covering his mouth.
“How was I supposed to know what was happening?” Stiles asked.
“Derek didn’t tell you?” Laura asked, leaning forward and pinching her brother. “Der, what the fuck?”
“Ow, hey!” Derek said, swatting at her. “I’m driving.”
“You didn’t tell him?”
“No, he didn’t. Its fine. I’ll just be the raggedy one of the bunch who doesn’t look nice ever, apparently.”
“You look fine, Stiles,” Derek assured him. Stiles slid down in his seat a bit. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that we were roped into a double date.”
“S’fine,” Stiles mumbled, picking at his jeans. “I was tired of Chem anyways.”
“Why weren’t you guys at the library?” Sam asked. Stiles looked at Derek, then shrugged.
“I needed some alone time,” Stiles said truthfully. “I’m feeling that ‘over halfway done with the semester’ funk. So close yet so far.”
“So you’re freaking the fuck out,” Laura said, filling in Stiles’ words for him. Stiles laughed, nodding slightly.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“And Derek is a distraction,” Laura added. Stiles reached over and grabbed Derek’s hand for a second, then slid his hand down to Derek’s thigh.
“Yeah, he is.”
“So sweet I may puke,” Sam said with a smile on her face. Derek cracked a grin as he shifted gears. When they got to the restaurant, Stiles went into the bathroom to try to tame his hair. A little water did a lot, actually, but everyone knew exactly what he had tried to do. He didn’t care, because as soon as he sat down, Derek grabbed his hand underneath the table and squeezed it.
Afterwards, Derek dropped Sam and Laura off first before he drove Stiles back to his dorm. Laura made sure to comment on how odd it was, but Derek ignored her as Stiles got out of the car to let Sam and Laura out. Surprisingly enough, both Sam and Laura kissed Stiles on the cheek.
“Don’t keep him for too long, I need my car back,” she said, winking. Stiles nodded, breaking into a small smile.
“I won’t. I turn into a pumpkin at midnight.”
“Lies,” Derek called out from the driver’s seat. Stiles got back in and immediately leaned in for a kiss because he hadn’t seen Derek all day, really, until the impromptu dinner. “Hi,” Derek whispered, his lips pressed against Stiles’.
“Hi,” Stiles answered as he pulled away. He sighed as Derek started to drive, leaning his head against the window, closing his eyes. “Remind me, please, not to overload next semester.”
“Oh, I plan on looking over your shoulder and yelling at you if you take anything over eighteen hours.”
“Good,” Stiles replied. “Because I am so exhausted.”
“I know you are,” Derek replied. “If you don’t want to go out tomorrow night-”
“No, no. I’m spending Halloween with you and Laura. I need a break, anyways. One night won’t kill me.”
“Have you even missed any classes this semester?”
“Yeah, I have. I slept through my alarm a few times. And in the library. I missed a few.”
“Sleeping is a good excuse,” Derek admitted. Stiles felt Derek’s hand on his thigh. There was no pressure to it, nothing sexual, just Derek being there for him.
“Are you okay? You seem really... solemn tonight,” Stiles confessed. Derek lifted an eyebrow, as if he had been hoping that Stiles wouldn’t have noticed.
“It’s nothing, really-”
“Ah, no. No evasive techniques,” Stiles urged. Derek sighed, shaking his head slightly.
“Laura, she always tries to go out and do things when she is sad. Me? I like to be by myself. I don’t like showing people that I’m upset. I don’t... even like talking about it. At all.” Stiles bit his lip.
“You can talk to me, though, right?” Stiles asked. Derek shrugged as he licked his lips. Stiles’ stomach sank a bit.
“Take today, for instance. Laura and I both have reason to be sad. It’s... today is Anna’s birthday.” Stiles’ eyes widened. “And she doesn’t like thinking about it, she wanted to go out, she wanted to have fun. She wanted to smile, she wanted me to smile. I get it. But it wasn’t what I wanted. It isn’t how I deal with losing my little sister.” Stiles felt his emotions bubbling up. He looked down at his hand, which now gripped Derek’s tightly. Derek was looking down at their hands, too. “Sorry, I didn’t... It isn’t that I don’t want to be with you right now, I do. But at the same time I don’t.”
“I get it,” Stiles whispered. “I do. It hurts, so much. I don’t like being around people either, on my mom’s birthday. I get it, Derek. You don’t need to explain it to me. I’m sorry Laura dragged you out when all you wanted to do was be alone.”
“It helps her cope, I wouldn’t deny her that. She wanted a double date, so I can’t fault her for wanting something that I could give her.”
“But you need to take care of you, too, you know,” Stiles said, frowning. “I have a feeling you put everyone else first. How about you do what you want? Don’t think about others for once.” Derek looked at Stiles like he was insane. “For a week. Come on, you need it. You deserve it.”
“If I did what I wanted you wouldn’t leave my bed,” Derek whispered. Stiles grinned. “And we’d fuck in the library.”
“Oh, hey, public sex is a line I do not intend on-”
“You just said-”
“And I see the loophole you found in my request,” Stiles joked. Derek smiled, although it was a sad one, then nodded his head.
“I do tend to not think about what I want.”
“Told you,” Stiles chided.
Apparently what Derek really wanted was for them to study at the apartment and not at the library. Stiles, although he tended to get less done when he sat comfortably on Derek’s couch, obliged because Derek promised him time pinned against the bed. Stiles was five hundred percent on board with that. They spent the week at the apartment and eventually set up a semi routine where they studied until around six, then Stiles helped Derek make dinner. Derek could make more than pizza and stir fry, apparently, which... bravo. The best that Stiles could do was make his mother’s gravy at Thanksgiving, but that was only because he had begged her the last few years before she passed away. That was about it, though. He and his dad lived on take out. Derek made them breakfast for dinner, which Laura and Sam joined in on. One of the nights, Derek made homemade spaghetti which had been simmering for almost six hours. It was the best thing he had ever tasted. The next night they had meatball subs from the sauce and leftover meatballs from the night before. As far as Stiles was concerned, Derek should be a cook and not a Psych major. But apparently Derek only liked cooking for small groups of people, without any pressure. His father had been a cook, which took Stiles by surprise. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about what Derek’s parents had done, but more of the fact that Derek had smiled when he told him. Like it didn’t hurt to talk about it.
Whenever Stiles mentioned that his mother had been a librarian, it hurt. It hurt him every day walking into the library, walking past the front desk, and looking at all of the librarians. It hurt him being in the there for hours every single day. In a way, it was like he was punishing himself by being there. But he couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the same way for Derek, that cooking reminded him of his dad but that he wouldn’t stop it just because it brought back memories. Derek wouldn’t be cooking every single night if it wasn’t what he wanted, because that was part of their agreement.
On Halloween, Derek made tacos. They were the best tacos Stiles ever had, and he wasn’t being biased at all. Derek and Laura had went all out and there was a bar with every topping that you could think of. They blamed it on the fact that they wanted to eat a good dinner before they drank all night long. Stiles didn’t really care for the reasoning as he ate his fourth taco, piled high with guacamole, tomatoes, lettuce, and queso drizzled (poured) onto it. Derek even made a dip for nachos that was a godsend. Stiles got himself a bowl so he could keep double dipping his chips into it.
Stiles took a nap to sleep off his food coma. Derek woke him by rubbing his back as he sat next to him on his bed. Stiles pouted, stretching and turning towards Derek, curling his body around him.
“Time to party, Han Solo.”
“Don’t wanna, 007.”
“You don’t want to see me in a suit?” Stiles sat up, suddenly awake.
“You’re right. Party on, Garth. Oh, next year lets be Wayne and Garth.”
“Sure,” Derek said, untangling himself from Stiles. “Laura and Sam have already left for the party.”
“I’ll change, it will take me two seconds.”
Stiles grabbed his pile of things, set off to the corner of the room because he knew he would be getting ready at Derek’s, and began dressing himself as Han Solo. He put in his contacts, then put on his collared shirt, leaving the last few buttons unbuttoned. For reasons. He pulled on a black vest, then buckled on his holsters. One was around his waist, the other, obviously, was a thigh holster. Hell yes, thigh holster. It made him feel like a badass. He combed down his hair, because Han didn’t have Harry Potter hair, then looked at himself in the mirror.
He looked like the kid version of Han Solo, if he was being completely honest with himself. He tested out his gun, pointing it at the mirror. Derek chuckled from across the room. Stiles turned his head, looking over at Derek, then grinned.
“Thoughts?” He asked. Derek was playing with his cufflinks. Stiles tried not to scream ‘you’re wearing cufflinks?!’ at him. Luckily for him, his willpower won out. He wanted to climb Derek like a tree in his suit.
“If I were Leia I would have picked you before I found out that Luke was my brother.”
“I don’t know what to say to that, honestly. Because now I’m just picturing you in the slave girl uniform.”
“How do I look in it?” Derek asked, the cheeky fucker. Stiles made a face, as if thinking about it.
“I’d rather see you as Rocky.”
“You could see me as Rocky later tonight if you want.” Derek said, taking a step closer to Stiles. In the suit, Derek looked, well, fuckable. Stiles couldn’t think of another word because his brain was short circuiting.
“You have gold underwear?” Stiles asked, his eyebrows raised. Derek smirked before he pulled Stiles in for a kiss. “So that is a yes to the gold?” Stiles asked again, his hands slowly working their way down to Derek’s pants. Derek’s hands stilled his movements though, by grabbing onto his wrists.
“Later,” Derek said, taking a step back. “Party first.”
“I disagree,” Stiles said. “Fun time now, then party, then Rocky later.”
“We both know if we get out of these clothes we aren’t going to the party.”
“Sounds good to me-”
“Stiles,” Derek pleaded. Stiles kissed him, then headed towards the door.
“Come on, then. Let’s get ourselves out in public before I change my mind.” Stiles really, really wanted to change his mind. Derek drove them to the party, where he found Scott dressed as Harry Potter, and Allison dressed as Snow White. Laura walked up, ecstatic that everyone wore costumes, then handed them each a candy apple shot. Stiles didn’t even want to know what was in it, all he knew was that it was delicious.
“Whatever we do, don’t let me bob for apples,” Stiles murmured. Derek looked at him like he wanted to be the one getting Stiles to do it.
Somehow, they ended up doing the limbo, which, as it turned out, Stiles was fucking awesome at. He was a pliable motherfucker if he did say so himself. Bendable and drunk enough that he stuck his tongue out while he shimmied underneath the pole. He wasn’t sure where they got the pole, but it was there. He even did it with his gun holsters still on, his hands on it, thumbs hooked around his belt loops. He definitely felt like a badass. Especially with three jack and cokes in him on top of that whatever delicious shot he was fed when he first arrived. He wanted another one, but Derek said he didn’t need it, so apparently he didn’t need it. Because Derek was smart, and also his boyfriend. Derek was his boyfriend.
Stiles had to find Derek, because he wasn’t currently attached to him and wanted to be. Stiles found Scott first, with Allison, and Lydia. Lydia was dressed like Merida, because Lydia would. She looked amazing and Stiles couldn’t help but think about how she was his ‘I’d jump over the fence for...’ and she would always be that for him. Her hair was super curly and her dress was a stunning emerald green. It was also embroidered, and it looked expensive. He couldn’t stop staring at it. He reached a hand out to touch it when a pair of hands wrapped around his stomach, lips pressed against his neck, and a nose nuzzled against his skin. Stiles grinned, his eyes closing and hand dropping to Derek’s hands, covering them.
“Hey, hey! I was just looking for you,” Stiles said, turning around to find.... Danny? Danny. That was Danny and not Derek. Stiles took a step back, his hand pushing against Danny’s chest. Danny was trashed. He had a suit on, just like Derek’s, only not? Stiles blinked. Twice. It was definitely not Derek. “You’re not Derek.”
“No, but I can be,” He crooned. Stiles felt dirty. He blanched. “You look hot in those pants.”
“Argh, uh. Thanks,” Stiles muttered, taking another step back. He needed to find Derek. He flinched when Danny grabbed hold of his wrist, stopping him.
“Danny, get off of him,” Scott said, pushing back on Danny, forcing him away from Stiles. “He isn’t interested and you’re drunk.”
“He was interested on his birthday,” Danny said, indignant. Stiles looked to Scott, who motioned for him to leave, that he would deal with Danny. Stiles took his chance, and left. If he stayed, it would end up in a fight. And as much as Stiles would like to get into a fight dressed as Han Solo, he doubted sober him would appreciate it.
He took out his phone and dialed Derek’s number because he didn’t want to search the entire party for him. Derek picked up after three rings.
“Stiles?” he asked. It was loud, and Stiles could barely hear him.
“Danny hit on me,” Stiles blurted out.
“What?” Derek asked. “Where are you?”
“In the house? By the kitchen?” Stiles said, unsure. He turned around and around. “No, I lied. Living room.”
“Stay right there.” Derek hung up. Stiles stood there, staring at his phone as the room buzzed around him. He swayed a bit, his body becoming heavier and heavier. He jumped when hands grabbed him, thinking it was Danny again.
“No!” He said, pushing back. As soon as he realized it was Derek he fell against him, his head landing on Derek’s shoulder, his fingers clenching around his suit jacket.
“Stiles, are you okay?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded.
“So drunk, and Danny. I thought he was you and then it wasn’t you and I want to go home.”
“Alright, I’m not sober enough to drive, though.”
“We can walk to my dorm,” Stiles said, standing up straight and pulling Derek towards the exit. “I just want to be alone.” Derek let Stiles lead him out of the party. They passed Laura on the way out. Derek stopped, his hand in Stiles’ as he talked to her. She looked hot as Magenta, her hair frizzed way out and her makeup done all up. Sam didn’t even look like herself with Columbia’s makeup and top hat on. Stiles wished he was in the mood to hang out with them, to party, but really he just wanted to be alone. With Derek.
The walk to the dorm was quiet, Stiles lost in his own mind as they walked. Once they got into his room, he started striping off his costume. He watched Derek carefully taking off his jacket, then his cufflinks. Stiles got down to his boxer briefs then crawled into bed, waiting for Derek to join him. Stiles pressed his back against the wall as Derek got into the bed. He waited until Derek was situated before he draped an arm and a leg over him, pulling him close as he buried his face in Derek’s chest.
“You’re not okay,” Derek whispered, his fingers raking slowly through Stiles’ hair. Stiles closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
“Danny made me feel like I used to,” Stiles whispered. “Used. I’m sorry. I ruined Halloween for you.”
“No you didn’t,” Derek said, pulling Stiles’ hair lightly, urging Stiles to look up at him. Stiles bit his lip as he moved his head, his eyes opening to see Derek looking at him with a frown on his face. “All I wanted was for us to dress up, which we did. We looked awesome, we saw Laura. We are in bed, comfortable,” he said, wiggling his feet, hitting them against Stiles’. “I only wish I could stop you from thinking about your past, because you have me. I’m here.”
“I know you are,” Stiles whispered, his palm flat against Derek’s stomach. “It’s dumb.”
“No, it’s not dumb, Stiles.” Stiles scooted up, just enough so that he could kiss Derek. It was soft, innocent, and not at all sexual. It was just what he needed. Comfort, a sense of belonging. Derek was that for him. It scared him, how much Derek meant to him but he wasn’t denying it, he just kept it tucked to the side of his mind. He didn’t want to utter the words that he felt, he couldn’t voice them although they were there, beneath the surface. “You know you can talk to me about it, right?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I know you hate talking about how you feel,” Stiles snorted, because yeah, he did. He hated it. He wished everything was plain as day so he didn’t have to say anything about how he felt, about how Derek made him feel and how fucked up that someone else touching him without his consent had sent him in a spiral about to have a panic attack in public. But he was okay, he was fine now. Stiles concentrated on breathing, on the rise and fall of Derek’s chest until he was ready to talk again.
“I love you,” Stiles said, his mouth dry and heart thumping wildly in his chest. He closed his eyes, bracing for what he thought would be the end all be all to everything he held dear. There was a sharp intake of breath from Derek, his hand in Stiles’ hair had stilled. He was silent, too silent. Stiles sat up, his eyes wide. “Fuck.”
I love Cliffhangers.
Tell me your feeeeeeels! I want to know them. *chinhands*
Stiles couldn’t believe he had said it, and that Derek was laying there in silence. Stiles pushed himself away from Derek, scrambling off the bed in order to get to the light. As he flipped the switch, Derek winced, covering his face with a hand.
“This is awkward,” Stiles blurted out, bending over and pulling a shirt out of a pile of clothes on his floor and putting it on. “So fucking awkward,” he whispered, licking his lips nervously. Derek was sitting up now.
“Stiles, let me explain-”
“Nope, no. I think it’s pretty obvious when one person says what I just did and the other person is completely silent. I just told you that I felt used and then you said- you said that I could talk about my feelings. Look, feelings. I have them, a lot of them. About you. And I said them.”
“I know, Stiles, but-”
“You sleep here. I’m going down the hall to my friend’s whose roommate doesn’t even sleep here,” Stiles said, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and slipping on a pair of flip flops. “I-” Stiles looked at Derek, who was standing now, walking over towards him. “I can’t handle this right now.”
“Stiles, wait a second,” Derek said, his voice firm. Stiles, his hand on the door, turned to face him, his brow furrowed. “I really, really... wasn’t expecting you to say that to me.”
“Alright,” Stiles said, indignant. “Well, I did.”
“You did, and I think... I’m not saying you didn’t think it through-”
“Holy motherfucking shit, are you serious?” Stiles said, waving his arms around. “Are you fucking kidding me, Derek?”
“Fine, I’m sorry I said it. I. Take. It. Back.” Stiles hissed out, his hands clenched at his sides.
“No, Stiles, that isn’t what I meant,” Derek implored, taking another step forward. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at it, his teeth gritted. Stiles was too angry and hurt to realize how defeated Derek looked, how distraught. “It isn’t like that, I don’t want you to take it back-”
“Oh, oh, okay. Right. I can love you but you can’t feel that way about me.”
“Stiles, calm do-”
“Derek? Protip: don’t tell someone who is fucking freaking out to calm down. It doesn’t help. Ever,” Stiles said, over enunciating every word, his finger jabbing Derek in his chest. Derek was still standing there in only his boxer briefs and Stiles was practically yelling at him.
“If you would fucking listen to me for two seconds,” Derek said, his voice bursting outwards, his hands reaching forward and gripping Stiles’ shirt. Stiles’ hands immediately grabbed hold of Derek’s wrists, closing his eyes as if waiting to be rammed into the door. Derek didn’t, though, just held onto him. “I have a lot of feelings for you Stiles, but you have to- you don’t know-” Derek closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I can’t just say that, I can’t just-” All the fight flew out of Stiles, his hold on Derek’s wrists loosened, his palms gliding slowly up Derek’s arms. Stiles’ mouth hung open slightly as he frowned. Derek sighed audibly, closing his eyes. Stiles had never seen Derek so flustered, ever. Derek’s cheeks were pinkening, Stiles’ lip quivering as he forced himself to take deep, calming breaths. He waited. When Derek opened his eyes, they were watery. Not enough for tears, but glassy and fragile looking. It broke Stiles, seeing Derek upset over the fact that Stiles loved him.
It felt like a punch in the stomach, if Stiles was being perfectly honest with himself.
“I just can’t,” Derek reiterated. Stiles bit his lip.
“Can’t what?” Stiles asked, refusing to let his voice crack. Derek didn’t look like he was going to answer, his head falling against Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles’ hands wrapped around him, his cheek pressing against Derek’ hair. He was comforting Derek? After being rejected? Derek was so somber, so melancholy that Stiles had no idea how else to react. Stiles had one hand splayed across Derek’s shoulder blades while the other cupped the back of Derek’s neck, his fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“I feel like I haven’t told you enough about me,” Derek answered, barely audible. Stiles closed his eyes, holding back his words, his thoughts on the matter. “I lecture you about telling me your feelings and I can’t even tell you about Kate, or about what’s going on in my own head.” Stiles tried to calm his clambering heart. He was breathing quickly, shallowly, and surely that wasn’t helping Derek calm down.
“I’m all ears,” Stiles said, attempting humor. Stiles felt the reverberation of Derek chuckling against him.
“I’m so sorry, Stiles,” Derek said, his lips pressed against Stiles’ skin, his own arms wrapped so tightly around Stiles’ torso that Stiles wouldn’t have been able to get away from him if he tried. “I can’t say what you want me to.” Stiles gulped, looking up at the ceiling in order to hold back his emotions.
“Okay,” Stiles whispered, trying not to sound hurt.
“But it doesn’t mean... it doesn’t mean that.. Fuck. I like us, I like what we have, and I feel like I just ruined everything.” Stiles’ mouth was dry, he couldn’t breathe and Derek was silent, then, as if waiting for Stiles to say that he hadn’t ruined everything, that everything was okay. But it wasn’t okay, not really.
“I don’t know what to say,” Stiles said, because it was the truth. He wasn’t sugar coating anything, not right now, not with everything so raw. He had just poured his heart out, telling Derek that Danny had made him feel like nothing, like just another body and not a person at all and then Derek couldn’t tell him that he was worth something. Stiles felt like a pile of shit, someone that no one really wanted. Stiles sniffed, the hand that had been on Derek’s neck moved to Stiles’ eyes, wiping at them. “I’m still sort of buzzed and I fucking can’t believe this is happening right now.”
“I should go home,” Derek whispered, standing back up straight, his arms dropping from Stiles. Stiles immediately felt the loss of body heat pressing against him. Stiles needed that contact back. He felt like if Derek walked out, then it was over. They couldn’t just end it like this, could they? “We should sleep on it.”
“Don’t go,” Stiles said, his hand reaching for a wrist. Derek pulled his hand away, closing his eyes momentarily as if it hurt. Stiles recoiled as if slapped. Derek, who had always initiated affection had never, not once, turned away a touch. He had given Stiles a false sense of security about it and having that revoked hurt Stiles more than he thought it ever could. Derek bent over, grabbing his clothes. Stiles clenched his fists, anger rising up inside of him once more. “Don’t fucking walk away from this,” he spat. Derek’s shoulders slumped as he turned his head to look at him. His jaw was set tight and the look on his face scared Stiles. It was all hard lines and looked as though he had turned off a switch somewhere in his mind.
“I think we should sleep on it, Stiles,” he reiterated. Stiles was standing in front of the door and he had no intention of moving out of Derek’s way. He watched him get dressed. Stiles started breathing heavily, his heart rate skyrocketing. Stiles tugged on his hair, shaking his head.
“Please don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry I said it,” he said, which was the truth. They had been happy, they were happy. Everything had been fine up until that point. It had been some sort of trigger for Derek and now he had shut down on Stiles, pushing him away.
Derek looked at him, shaking his head once.
“I think we both need to clear our heads.”
“I think we need to not stop talking right now,” Stiles said, his voice a bit manic. “If you walk out that door, I feel like that is just going to make this worse.”
“Stiles,” Derek said, his voice calm but full of emotion, “me leaving this room isn’t going to change how I feel about you, or about us, or about anything. We’ve been drinking, you had a bad night because of Danny-”
“Oh so you remember that,” Stiles spat, his head tilting to the side. His body language was sarcastic and petulant, but he didn’t care. He was fucking upset. Derek sighed, letting Stiles hear how frustrated he was.
“Yes, I remember that you’ve never been in a relationship before-”
“Oh, oh good. You’re throwing that in my face now?” Stiles all but screamed, his hands flying up, circling his head obnoxiously. He couldn’t stop flailing. “Me with the never saying how I feel and when I do my fucking boyfriend feels the need to remind me that I’ve never been in this situation so of course I’m fucking doing it wrong!”
“I didn’t say that,” Derek yelled. Stiles fumed silently for a moment. “I didn’t even mean it in a condescending way, Stiles. God dammit, this is why I think we need to sleep on it. We aren’t fucking thinking about what we’re saying. You think what we have will be ruined by sleeping apart for one night, whereas I think if we keep going like this we will ruin it and I don’t fucking want that, alright? I don’t want it. I want us to be ‘us’ Stiles. A couple. We are a couple and we are fighting. People fight.”
“I don’t like fighting with you!” Stiles shouted, gnawing at his lip, his eyes wide. “I don’t want this, I don’t want you shutting down on me and I don’t fucking want you to leave me.”
“I’m not leaving you, Stiles. I’m going home and going to bed, that’s all.” Stiles shut his mouth at Derek’s inflection. He sounded exhausted and hurt, and Stiles just wanted to rewind time an hour or two. He needed a fucking tardis. There was no such thing as time travel, though, so instead here Stiles was, completely wrecked as he watched Derek put his shoes on.
“Derek,” Stiles said, his voice so past done that it was barely audible. He didn’t want to beg, he didn’t want to plead with Derek. He wanted Derek to want to stay.
“I’m sorry, Stiles,” Derek said, putting his hands on Stiles’ shoulders, moving him to the side. Stiles’ brow creased as he frowned, watching as Derek opened the door. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
Stiles’ chest constricted as he was left alone in his room. He pressed his back against the door, sliding down it, crumpling on the floor. He sobbed, his chest heaving from the strain he was putting on his body. Derek left him there and no matter what Stiles said, Derek didn’t stay.
When Stiles woke up, he was in his bed. His alarm was piercingly annoying. He turned it off, but didn’t get out of bed. The next time he became aware of his surroundings, Scott was waking him up by shaking him.
“Stiles, you missed a class. It’s almost noon, dude.” Stiles shoved at Scott, pushing him away as he pulled up his covers.
“Fuck everything,” Stiles yelled, his voice raw, catching in his throat.
“What happened?” Scott asked, concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Nope, not okay. Not good, no school for Stiles. Mental health day,” Stiles said mainly into his pillow, his eyes shut tight. Scott was sitting on the edge of Stiles’ bed silently.
“Did something happen with-”
“Don’t,” Stiles whispered. “It’s nothing.”
“Obviously,” Scott said, his tone light in hopes of cheering Stiles up. Stiles huffed out a half hearted laugh. “So you are going to stay in bed all day because nothing is going on?”
“Basically,” Stiles mumbled. He should really go to his Modern Russia and Classical Greece classes, then email his professor about his missed Medieval Europe class he missed. Stiles sat up, frowning because he had a pressure headache from crying. He probably looked like shit, because he fucking felt like ass. Ass kicked to the ground and left to be run over repeatedly. “I’m getting up,” he stated, pushing the covers off of himself.
He showered, then headed to class. Between the classes, he emailed his professor. There was no real excuse, his professor would just think he was another dumb college kid that drank too much on Halloween and had a hangover. It had been the first time Stiles had missed that particular class, though, so he still had two absences before any percentage of his grade would be docked. Still, it stressed him out a bit.
By the time his classes got out, he was starving. He walked by the library on his way to the dorm. He wondered if Derek would be in there, but refused to stop by. His phone had been silent all day, no word from Derek. Stiles tried not to think about it, or let it get to him. Derek said they would talk, so he just had to concentrate on his classwork. He grabbed a sandwich and sat outside, at a table, and worked for a while. He put on the Tron: Legacy OST because he hadn’t listened to it in a long time. At one point, it was all he listened to for an entire week. He hadn’t even enjoyed the movie that much, but the soundtrack? Amazeballs.
It was a nice distraction, for a while. Until his phone buzzed. Stiles stared at it, knowing that it would be a text from Derek. Stiles didn’t move, unable to look away from his phone. He thought about ignoring it until his Chem lab was finished for the next day. He barely lasted a minute before he grabbed it, his lips pursed.
‘You aren’t in the library like I hoped you would be,’ was what it read. Stiles’ stomach lurched. He swallowed, his fingers hovering over the keypad of his phone.
‘Its nice out, sitting outside doing Chem,’ was all he felt like responding with.
‘Where? I want to meet up with you.’ Stiles made a face. He didn’t want to talk in public.
‘Later. Working.’ He just wasn’t in the mood, he was still emotionally drained from the night before. He didn’t like how it made him feel, how Derek pulling away from him had been like a punch in the balls.
‘Come over tonight,’ Derek responded almost immediately.
‘Okay.’ Stiles bit his lip as he replied. He wasn’t looking forward to it at all.
He packed up his things once the sun started to set, then went to his dorm to drop his things off. He stayed, played a few rounds of Mario Kart on the N64 with Scott and Isaac, then thought that he shouldn’t really keep Derek waiting. He threw on an extra layer, a hoodie, then told them he would probably be back soon.
The walk to Derek’s was somber, slow, with his hands shoved in his pockets. Despite how much he dragged his feet, he still made it to Derek’s apartment in what felt like a short period of time. He shifted back and forth before he knocked on the door, his hood up, shoulders hunched over. Sam answered the door, which Stiles frowned at. He was hoping that they would be alone for this. She looked at him with her head tilted, her teeth caught on her bottom lip.
“Oh, sweetie,” she murmured. “You look like shit.” Stiles rolled his eyes.
“You can’t look so defeated,” she urged, pushing his hood down and grabbing hold of his shoulders, pinching his arm. Stiles made a pained face, his hand clutching where it stung, his jaw hanging open in surprise.
“I know a thing or two about the Hale siblings,” she started and Stiles was quite literally all ears, “and you? Did nothing wrong. They just can’t say-”
“Sam, who’s at the-” Derek opened the door, mild surprise written across his face. Stiles averted his eyes, his hand instinctively messing with his hair out of habit in uncomfortable situations. “Stiles, are you coming in?” Derek’s voice was restrained, clipped. Stiles sighed, his shoulders lifting slightly as he breathed. He nodded as he made his way into the apartment. It smelled amazing; Derek was cooking. A wave of longing rolled through Stiles, his face no doubt showing his feelings. He wiped a hand over his face, removing every piece of emotion he had put on display.
“Derek is making goulash,” Sam said, breaking the obvious tension as Derek stood there, his fists clenched. “Have you had it before? It’s my favorite. I had a bad day, so he said he would make it for me, right Derek?”
“Yeah,” Derek mumbled, looking away from Stiles, towards the kitchen. Stiles thought about how Derek always put others before himself. He always put Laura first, with going out on Anna’s birthday, about how he had taken Stiles home because he had freaked out, how now he was taking care of Sam. Stiles felt like flipping a table over because he wanted too many things all at once. Most of them consisted of Derek doing something for himself for once in his goddamned life. “It’s almost ready.”
“Perfect,” Sam said, looking between them. Stiles had his hands back in his pockets, staring at the carpet because it was really fucking interesting at the moment. “Well, I was about to do some laundry, be back in a bit,” she said, going into her room and grabbing her hamper. Stiles waited until she was out the door before he took his hoodie off. He felt a lump in his throat, didn’t know what to do or say, really. He knitted his brow, frowning.
“I have to-”
They both started talking at the same time, then both stopped as if letting the other continue.
“You,” Stiles said, making a hand motion for Derek to take the floor. He really didn’t want this to take long if Derek was going to dump him. He couldn’t take it anymore.
“I have to apologize,” Derek said. Stiles raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t react correctly, at all, and I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Uh,” Stiles said, not really sure what to say.
“I think you misinterpreted me saying I wanted to go home as me saying I didn’t want to be with you, which isn’t what I meant at all. You know that, right?” Stiles shrugged. “Stiles, I just needed time-”
“Time to think about what I feel about you?” Stiles asked, wary. Derek stilled, his jaw clenching
“Yes,” Derek admitted. Stiles chewed the inside of his cheek as he waited for more. “I can’t tell you what you want to hear.”
“I’m beginning to get that, yeah,” Stiles said in a jibe.
“But that doesn’t mean that I don’t-” Derek looked like he was at a loss of words. “I told you about Anna, and about Guster, and about all these things - things that I just don’t fucking share, I don’t share anything.” Stiles nodded, swallowing back emotions as he looked at his shoes.
“Okay,” he whispered. “You can’t tell me how you feel.”
“I like us, I like what we are,” Derek supplied. Stiles sniffed petulantly. “I was in a relationship for years, Stiles. I never told her those words, either.” Stiles glared at him. He didn’t want to bring up Kate, not when this was about them. Derek realized almost immediately that it didn’t sit well with Stiles, though. “I’m just saying that this is my issue, and that... goddammit Stiles, I hate the way you’re looking at me right now.”
Stiles bit his lip.
“You don’t need to say it,” Stiles admitted. “You don’t need to, not if you don’t mean it.”
“It isn’t that I wouldn’t mean it,” Derek admitted. The corner of Stiles’ mouth turned upwards. Derek basically just told him he loved him. “I just-” Stiles rushed forward and cupped Derek’s face, kissing him.
“You don’t need to say it,” Stiles said again, his lips pressed against Derek’s. “You tell me about pizza making, and about how you would rather make sure Laura is happy before you are,” Stiles’ hands were on Derek’s hips, his fingers hooking around his belt loops, “and you buy me wooing coffees.”
“I do,” Derek admitted.
“Are you happy?” Stiles asked, backing up momentarily. “I mean it, answer me honestly.”
“Yeah, I am,” Derek whispered, his hand on the back of Stiles’ neck. “I don’t want you to feel like you aren’t what I want, that you feel like... you are just being used.”
“I don’t feel that way,” Stiles admitted. “I was afraid you didn’t want me anymore.”
“That is so far from the truth I wish you could just... be in my head for two seconds and see how untrue that is.”
“We suck at feelings,” Stiles laughed. Derek nodded his head in agreement.
“We have a lot of shit to work out.”
“No more tonight, though,” Stiles said, pulling at Derek’s hips, his fingers still hooked in Derek’s belt loops. “Seriously, I don’t want to talk anymore.”
“Alright,” Derek said, nodding his head as he leaned forward, capturing Stiles’ lips with his. Stiles moaned against the kiss, against Derek’s tongue begging access to his mouth. Stiles obliged him, breathing Derek in as they slowly made their way towards Derek’s room. “No more talking,” he added as the back of Stiles’ knees hit the bed, sending him falling backwards onto it.
“Are we having make up sex?” Stiles asked as Derek began discarding his jeans, slipping them down his thighs. Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “Because I am all for makeup sex, never had it, sounds fun-”
“Stiles,” Derek said, trying to hold back a grin. “The talking?”
“Right, yeah, okay. How about.... you get down here and shut me up?” he said, smirking with his head tilted. Derek rolled his eyes, but crawled onto the bed, straddling him in only his boxer briefs. Stiles was about to continuing talking when Derek shut him up by kissing him, again. Stiles grinned into it, his hands wrapping around Derek’s shoulders, fingers raking down his back. Derek grabbed onto Stiles’ legs, pulling him forward, thrusting against him despite the fabric between them. Stiles groaned, his teeth nipping at Derek’s bottom lip as lazy kisses turned rough and insistent.
“What do you want me to do?” Derek asked, his voice low as he whispered into Stiles’ ear, his tongue licking a strip up Stiles’ neck. Stiles panted beneath him, trying to think. It was hard when Derek was pressing himself up against Stiles, grinding into him. Very fucking hard to concentrate on anything except for the fact the he had clothes on when he didn’t want them to be.
“Fuck me, just fuck me.”
Derek didn’t need coaxing, apparently, because he was yanking Stiles’ jeans off of him and pulling of his shirt in a matter of seconds. Stiles shimmied out of his boxer briefs as he watched Derek rid himself of his own shirt. Stiles was about to ask how Derek wanted him, but Derek grabbed hold of him and flipped him over. Stiles buried his face into Derek’s sheets as Derek spread his thighs. Stiles gasped, letting out a shuddering moan as Derek licked at him, his teeth grazing over a cheek before doing it all over again. Stiles rolled his hips as Derek pressed inwards, his hands spreading Stiles’ ass cheeks wide in order to gain access.
“Derek,” Stiles keened, panting open mouthed into the mattress. “Derek, please,” Stiles begged, unraveling at Derek’s touch, at his tongue. He wasn’t sure what he was asking for, actually, because to him the world was spinning, all that existed was Derek’s tongue and his hands spreading him wide.
Derek lapped at him, then pressed in his thumb. Stiles bucked his hips forwards, groaning at the intrusion. He bit his lip, moaning as Derek removed his thumb and replaced it with his index finger, fucking him with it. Stiles thought, for a split second, that Derek wasn’t going to use lube. His heart rate skyrocketed and he twisted his body, pushing himself up by his elbows. Derek pinned him down, his forearm against Stiles’ shoulder blades, his ass was in the air with Derek pressing against his entrance. Stiles gasped audibly. He shivered at the thought of bare skin against bare skin.
“Derek-” Stiles managed to stutter out, his hand slipping between his own legs, stroking himself, slicked by precome.
“Wait here, don’t move,” Derek said, nipping at Stiles’ earlobe. Derek got off the bed, to which Stiles groaned in frustration. Stiles watched him walk into the bathroom, hunch over on the balls of his feet, open the cabinet under the sink, and grab the lube and a condom. Stiles closed his eyes, glad. He did not want to be dry fucked. As hot as being licked sounded, and was, because lets be fucking real here - he needed prep. Before Stiles even realized that Derek had already crawled back onto the bed, two slicked up fingers were being pushed into him. Stiles met him thrust for thrust, his hips rolling back. Derek pulled back, retracting his fingers in order to put the condom on. “Hold on to the back of your legs,” Derek suggested. Stiles moved his hands, gripping the backs of his thighs, his cheek pressed against the mattress as Derek guided himself into Stiles slowly, barely pressing inwards before pulling out again. Stiles wiggled his ass, impatient. Derek was usually never this slow. Stiles squirmed. Derek then held onto Stiles’ hips, suddenly pounding into him in one movement. Stiles bucked forward a few inches, his voice filling the room at the impact.
Derek fucked him, his thrusts relentless. He had Stiles moaning at every movement, every dive in and pull out. Stiles’ nails were digging into his own skin, he was holding on for dear life as Derek picked up the pace.
It wasn’t until Derek’s hands slid down Stiles’ back, as Derek got on his knees, then draped his body over Stiles’ back, his elbows on either side of Stiles’ head, that Derek slowed down. Stiles closed his eyes as he felt Derek’s tongue on his neck, licking him as he fucked him with certain intensity. It was a slow, deliberate rhythm. It was torturous bliss. Stiles could barely breathe as he grabbed hold of his wrist with one hand, linking his hands together instead of holding onto his thighs. Derek worked at marking him as his pace remained the same. Stiles whined, licking his lips as Derek brushed against his prostate repeatedly, sending endless cascades of pleasure throughout his body. He shivered, his stomach tightening as his climax built.
“Ah, fuck, Derek, too much,” Stiles gasped. Derek slipped his arms around Stiles, rolling them onto their sides. The penetration was shallower, slower, less intense. Stiles fell against Derek’s chest, his eyes closing as Derek moved against him, thrust into him. Stiles reached down between his legs, jacking himself off as Derek turned Stiles’ head so that they could kiss. It was all tongue, their lips barely touching because of the angle. Stiles felt a rush flow through him as his climax hit him, his hand and stomach covered in ropes of come. Derek grunted, his mouth seamlessly moving from Stiles’ down his neck, to his shoulder, his teeth raking against Stiles’ skin. Derek picked up the pace of his thrusts, making Stiles practically scream with oversensitivity, completely spent. Derek came, stilling only for a moment before riding out his climax, his thrusts harder, slower, until he was through. Stiles’ limbs were limp as Derek pulled out of him. Stiles felt himself fading, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
Stiles jolted awake at the touch of the washcloth. Really, by now he should be used to it, but he wasn’t. His mind was always surprised when he was looked after, always thinking he would be sent out, pushed away and out the door, his clothes barely on him. The fact that Derek never did that after sex should have been some sort of tip off that he cared about Stiles the same way that Stiles cared about him.
“Sam wants us to know that: a) the goulash is ready and b) we are not quiet.”
“Stiles, sweetie, you make the best noises!” Sam called out from the living room. Stiles buried his head in Derek’s pillow. Derek smirked, his hand on Stiles’ back. Again with Derek not being embarrassed about these things. Stiles didn’t get it.
“Come on, get dressed, food.”
“Ngh,” Stiles said into the pillow, then sat up slowly, stretching. Oh god, his muscles ached. “What is with how every time we fuck, I can feel it all over?” he mumbled. Derek shrugged, the grin he had on his face a little smug. “Okay, feed me this famous goulash,” Stiles said, standing and reaching for his clothes.
“Are you staying the night?” Derek asked. Stiles stilled, his pants halfway up his legs.
“Uh, I don’t have anything with me. I’d have to get up really early.”
“Okay,” Derek said, smiling. “Just asking. I’m driving you home, though.”
“Good,” Stiles said, smiling back.
I finished Nanowrimo! (with two days to spare!!). This means a few things:
a) I will be writing somewhat slower now
b) updates will be less often, but not too far a part I hope!
c) you guys are amazing for the amount of love I have been getting. It means a lot, so thank you for helping me get through nano!
d) I did not originally intend for this chapter to be 4.9k but I wasn't about to cut it in half!
Things were weird. Stiles would be lying to himself if he didn’t think they wouldn’t be. He had told Derek that he loved him, and he had meant it. Derek hadn’t said it, they fought about it, and had make up sex. Then a lot more sex in the days to follow with not a lot of talking. In hindsight, Stiles wanted to talk, he always did. He always had the intention of talking, but classwork and studying always happened, and then kissing and groping followed. Afterwards, they slept. If they talked, it was about dinner, or how neither of them wanted to do laundry, or how Stiles really fucking needed a haircut. Derek talked about Laura, about Sam, about his uncle.
Derek’s uncle was in Beacon Hills at the hospital. He lived here, burned badly in the house fire all those years ago. Derek said that he wanted Stiles to meet him. Stiles, of course, said yes. Because he knew Derek even telling Stiles more details about why they always returned to Beacon Hills was like basically telling Stiles that he loved him. Stiles knew that Derek wanting Stiles to meet him definitely was a sign that Derek cared, a lot. So Stiles kissed him after they were done studying. He spent the night sometimes, while others he went home and slept in his own bed. He spent time with Scott and Isaac, he met with classmates for group projects, he had Derek teach him how to flip pancakes on a Sunday morning because goddamn if flipping them wasn’t something Stiles had never gotten the hang of.
They spent time with Sam and Laura, went to the movies, fell asleep on Derek’s bed with their books in between them on lazy Saturdays, they went putt-putting, they played laser tag with the entire group. They spent less and less time at the library, because one night Stiles told Derek about his mom, about her being a librarian.
Derek told Stiles that the only reason he had been in the library so much was because he had realized if he was there, then Stiles would show up. They didn’t need the library in order to see each other anymore. Stiles needed it for URAP, so he was still in there three or more times a week, using their table some afternoons between classes.
Thanksgiving was a week away, meaning exams were just around the corner. Stiles went from ‘minimally stressed all day everyday’ to ‘jesus fucking christ there are literally not enough hours in the day to handle this mess’. Stiles was walking from his class to the library, where he was about to set up shop until it closed, when his dad called him.
“Hey dad,” Stiles said, sighing into the receiver.
“Catch you at a bad time?” the Sheriff asked.
“No, no. Just a bit stressed,” Stiles answered truthfully.
“Well I was just calling because I wanted to ask you about you and Hale.” Stiles stopped walking, his jaw hanging open as he waited for his dad to keep talking. When Stiles didn’t answer, his dad sighed. “You there, son?”
“Yeah, here. What about him, dad?” Stiles asked, gnawing on his bottom lip. His dad knew he was gay, his dad saw him with Derek. His dad has Facebook.
His dad has Facebook.
Stiles never told his dad about Derek, he found out on Facebook.
“Well, for starters, I want you to extend an invitation to him and his sister for Thanksgiving-”
“Oh,” Stiles said, his eyes wide.
“Can you do that?” his dad asked. Stiles nodded, despite the fact that his dad couldn’t see him.
“Yeah, but dad, I don’t know if they will want to-”
“That’s fine, son. It’s just something you need to ask them, since they don’t have family to eat with. And I want to meet him officially.”
“Dad, you already know Derek Hale.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“Oh, right. Okay, yeah. You want to meet him as-”
“Your boyfriend. Do you guys call each other that or-”
“Yeah, we’re boyfriends,” Stiles said, running his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes. “I’ll ask him, dad. And Laura. Thanks for offering, I hadn’t even thought about it.”
“I’m sure you’re busy, it sounds like it. Do you have any more classes today?” he asked.
“No, I’m about to go do my internship for a few hours, research, have a quick dinner, then study until the library closes.”
“Seeing Derek today?”
“Ah, not sure,” Stiles said truthfully. “He’s up to his elbows in a thesis paper and I’m basically running around with my head cut off because I have bricks of notecards in my bookbag that I need to memorize.”
“Well take care of yourself, Stiles. I want you in one piece when you come home.” Stiles couldn’t help but smile.
“Will do, dad. Promise.”
Stiles lied. He did not grab a quick dinner. He worked straight through until they kicked him out of the library. Stiles, standing outside the library, looked at his phone. He didn’t know whether to call Derek or just go home and crash. Or study more before passing out in a pile of note cards on his bed.
He didn’t even need to make a decision because as if right on cue, Derek called him. Stiles grinned as he answered the phone.
“Did you eat?” Derek asked.
“Hey to you, too,” Stiles said, amusement obvious in his tone. “And no.”
“You never eat.”
“I eat when you feed me,” Stiles pointed out. “I don’t know if I should come over or not...”
“Well I was just out picking up Thai that Sam and Laura ordered, I can swing by-”
“Yes,” Stiles interrupted. He didn’t need much swaying when it came to time with Derek, Thai food, and did he mention time with Derek? He hadn’t seen him the day before at all, since it had been Monday. He hated Mondays for that reason. He used up all his time between classes to do URAP so he had to do less during the week. That, on top of his never ending Art History class, he was exhausted by the time he got out. He had fallen asleep the night before with a highlighter in his hand and his Chemistry book on his desk. When he woke up that morning he had to scrub his face because the ink had somehow decided it would rather live on his face than on the book.
That and his back and neck had been hurting all day because he had slept at his desk all night.
“Please dear God come get me.”
“Be there in a few,” Derek responded, hanging up. Stiles didn’t have to wait long. Derek’s car smelled of Thai.
“Please tell me there is something in there that I can consume.”
“I got you,” Derek said before he hung up the phone. Stiles waited, seated on a bench right outside the library; he was picking at the bottom of his shoe where it was coming apart. He thought about how Thanksgiving was a week away, and that exams were starting the week after that. He thought about how much he had to do, about how spread thin he felt. He needed time to himself but there was not enough hours in the day. He would rather spend that time, that small, almost nonexistent sliver of time, with Derek.
Stiles hadn’t even noticed when Derek pulled up, he was so immersed in his own world.
“Stiles,” Derek called out from the car, the passenger window rolled down. Stiles looked up, surprised to see Derek waiting there. He rushed over to the car, climbing inside as fast as he could.
“Hey,” Stiles said as he breathed out heavily. Derek smiled at him tiredly. Stiles knew that feeling. He was exhausted as well, despite it only being a Tuesday night. The Thai food was in the back seat, its aroma wafting its way to the front where Stiles groaned, turning his head so he could look at the to go containers. “Starving.” Derek rolled his eyes.
“Story of your life.”
“Starving and sleep deprived.”
“Such a charming combo.”
“It’s why you-” Stiles stopped dead in the middle of his sentence. He had almost said ‘it’s why you love me,’ because he and Scott say it all the time jokingly. Except with Scott it was just that, a joke. With Derek it obviously wasn’t. Stiles bit his lip and looked out the window, away from Derek. “It’s why you keep me around,” Stiles said a little bit later, the moment over. Derek knew he was just searching for something else to fill the void. Stiles wasn’t at all surprised when Derek’s hand found his and squeezed it tightly. Stiles looked at their hands, their fingers intertwined, and smiled.
As it turned out, Derek had ordered Stiles Pad See Ew without even knowing if Stiles was coming around that night or not.
“You ordered not even knowing if I was going to be here?” Stiles asked as Derek gave him his dinner once they were in the apartment. Laura and Sam were taking up the couch, so Stiles took up a place on the floor with his legs crossed, shoes off. Derek handed him a pair of chopsticks and remained quiet.
“Derek knew you were coming, silly,” Laura said, shaking her head as she ate her food. Stiles sat there for a second, watching Derek walk into the kitchen and get a drink out of the fridge. In that moment, Stiles knew that he could have finished his sentence in the car. He honestly felt like Derek felt the same way for him as he did for Derek.
“Hey, uh, I have a question for you and Derek,” Stiles began. Laura was paying attention, as was Derek as he walked back into the living room, taking his seat in the recliner, nearby where Stiles was seated on the floor. When he knew he had both of their attention, he brought up Thanksgiving. “So my dad wanted me to invite you guys to Thanksgiving at our house.” Laura and Derek exchanged looks. Stiles looked to Sam, worried he had been rude. “And you too, Sam, if you aren’t going home.”
“Oh, I go home for Thanksgiving, but thank you, Stiles,” she said, digging into her curry. Stiles turned his attention back to Laura and Derek, who were apparently in some sort of silent conversation that consisted of talking via facial expressions. Stiles looked back and forth, sighing.
“It’s not a big deal if you say no,” he offered, despite feeling a bit let down that Derek hadn’t immediately said yes. “My dad wants to meet you.” Derek looked at him, nodding his head.
“I want to meet your dad, I do.”
“I feel like a ‘but’ is attached to that statement.”
“There is-” Derek started to say, but Laura cut him off.
“We already have Thanksgiving day plans,” she said, her gaze solely on Derek. Stiles raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, do you guys spend it at the hospital?” Stiles asked. Laura made a face at Derek as if urging him to spit something out.
“No, we don’t, I mean we go visit Uncle Peter there in the morning, but we... eat at the Argent’s,” Derek said, his voice hushed. Everyone in the room was looking at Stiles.
“Argent?” Stiles asked. “Like Allison, my friend Allison?”
“What?” Stiles said, a little louder than he originally intended. Derek was about to spend Thanksgiving dinner at Kate’s house? With Kate? His ex? Stiles’ chest heaved, his eyes widened with anger.
“Stiles-” Derek started to say but Stiles shook his head, rejecting any form of explanation. He stood up walking towards Derek’s room. Derek moved to get up, to follow him, but Stiles stopped him by waving his hand at him, wanting to be alone. Stiles walked into Derek’s bathroom and turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on his face.
His heartbeat was racing, his anger at the entire Kate situation boiling to the surface. It wasn’t fair that she had this hold over Derek’s life, that he felt like he had no say in any of it because she was not only friends with Laura, but with Sam as well. Derek was forever tied to Kate and it was suffocating him. By the time he was okay enough to turn the water off, he hadn’t really decided if he wanted to breach the subject again. When he walked out of the bathroom he almost jumped out of his skin because Derek was sitting there, on his bed, with his hands in his lap, looking at the floor like someone had kicked his puppy.
Stiles refused to feel bad for the way he felt though. Derek was his boyfriend, right? So his boyfriend not spending Thanksgiving with him hurt, especially if Derek was going to have Thanksgiving with her instead.
“Things are complicated,” Derek muttered. Stiles scoffed, rolling his eyes.
Petulance at its best via Stiles Stilinski. Stiles winced at his tone immediately afterward because damn if it didn’t help matters at all that he let Derek see how pissed he was.
“You need to know some things about Laura and I after the fire, about the Argents.”
“Alright,” Stiles said, crossing his arms, his jaw clenching. Derek sighed.
“The Argent family took us in after the fire,” Derek started. Stiles felt like he was going to faint, or fall over, or flip a table. Of course they did. Of course they took in Laura and Derek, because that made sense. “This doesn’t have to do with her, Stiles. This has to do with the fact that we owe them a lot for their generosity, for helping us.” Stiles’ mouth was dry, he was breathing shallowly and goddammit he needed air. Not only was Derek’s life so intertwined with Kate’s, but with her entire family. “But tomorrow I’m going to call them and tell them that Laura and I will not be joining them this Thanksgiving.”
Stiles’ jaw dropped, along with his hands.
“Stiles, I want to have dinner with you, and your dad.”
“Okay,” Stiles said, his voice cracking out of sheer surprise.
“And we still have a lot to talk about, in terms of... everything.”
“You can say that again,” Stiles mumbled, running his fingers through his hair. “But you are sure about Thanksgiving? I mean, I don’t want to be the cause of some feud-”
“It won’t be that big of a deal, I don’t want to be around her right now. I’d rather spend it with you.”
Stiles breathed out in relief, nodding his head. He would take it, Derek trying. Derek was upset, he knew that much. It was his posture, the way that he and Laura had been silently communicating. Stiles knew there was so much he didn’t know about Derek and Kate, and if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t really want to know. He didn’t want to know how connected they were, or how they still were. Avoidance was a coping mechanism that he used well, that he had always used. He knew though, that he couldn’t hide forever.
Stiles walked over to the bed and sat down next to Derek, resting his head against Derek’s shoulder.
“Are you sure?” Stiles asked.
“Yeah, I’ll call them tomorrow.”
“I mean, my dad can’t cook. You know me, I can’t either. Maybe going to their house-”
“Well, ask your dad if he wants some help, then. Laura has our mom’s stuffing recipe, we never get to make it because the Argent’s have their own.” Stiles smiled at Derek wanting to help make Thanksgiving dinner.
“I think my dad would like that, a lot. I can make the jello.”
“You are officially on jello duty,” Derek said, kissing the top of Stiles’ forehead playfully. Stiles bit his lip, then sat up, his hand finding Derek’s.
“Can I stay tonight?” Stiles asked. Derek’s face brightened at his inquiry.
“You don’t need to ask.”
“I don’t want to impose-” Stiles was cut off by Derek’s lips finding his. The kiss was light, slow. It didn’t matter though, because it still left Stiles breathless.
“Not imposing, but our dinner is probably cold.”
“Thai tastes good heated up,” Stiles countered, yawning. He looked over at the clock, groaning. “How did it get that late?”
It was almost eleven thirty.
“Food, bathroom, talking...” Derek supplied. Stiles leaned into him, closing his eyes.
“Need to shower,” Stiles complained, falling back against the bed. Derek rolled his eyes dramatically.
“How about I salvage our dinner, so we have lunch tomorrow, and you shower?”
“How about I help them we both shower,” Stiles said, implying a little bit more than showering by the fact that his hand grabbed at his groin, his teeth raking across his bottom lip. Derek leaned over and kissed him.
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“You said hard,” Stiles laughed as he watched Derek get up off the bed.
“New plan, you go...prepare... and I’ll clean up and meet you in there.”
“Prepare?” Stiles said, his eyebrows raised, his cheeks flushing at the connotations. Derek grinned, then left the room without further explanation.
Stiles got up, stretching as he stood. He took off his shirt, then pulled off his socks. He heard the door open, but thought nothing of it as he walked into the bathroom to start the shower. When turned around he just about jumped out of his skin because Laura was standing there, her arms crossed as she leaned against the bathroom door frame.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” she asked. Stiles nodded, turning off the water so he didn’t waste it.
“Yeah, of course,” Stiles said, swallowing. He was glad he kept his jeans on, at least, because talking to Laura in his briefs would have been a bit awkward.
“So I take it that Derek is going to be calling the Argent’s tomorrow and telling them we can’t make it this year?”
“Looks like it,” Stiles said, shrugging. “It would mean a lot to me, to my dad, if he could meet you guys-”
“We both want to meet your dad, Stiles, but me personally? I don’t know if us cancelling on them is going to be a good idea.” Stiles’ brow furrowed. Derek chose the perfect time to walk back in his room, because Stiles honestly didn’t know what to say to Laura about this.
“What going on?” Derek asked, mainly looking to his sister.
“I was just telling Stiles that I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to skip dinner with the Argents.” Derek’s jaw set tight. Stiles could see the muscles clenching, could see that Derek was getting worked up.
“Well balls, Derek. You and Kate may be over, but what about Chris? What about how they are basically our family-”
“They aren’t our family, Laura,” Derek bellowed. Stiles flinched. “Our family is dead.”
“No fucking shit, Der!” Laura said, pushing at her brother. Derek caught her wrists to make sure she didn’t catch him with her nails. “We can have dinner at Stiles’,” he said, his voice more restrained. Stiles could see why, because Laura had tears in her eyes. This wasn’t about the Argents, or about Stiles or his dad or the invite, it was about Laura and Derek trying to have a family, trying to live their lives in the constant reminder that they were alone. Stiles, shook his head.
“If it is that big of a deal-”
“No, Stiles, I’m asking them. If Laura wants to eat with them, she can, but I’m eating dinner with you.”
Laura was on the ground, her hands covering her face, her hair cascading around her head. Derek bent down, rubbing her back. “Don’t you want to make mom’s stuffing? How about cornbread? The kind with sour cream? It melts in your mouth.” Laura nodded her head. “I can make you a pumpkin pie.”
“Yes,” Laura gasped between sobs. Stiles felt like he was watching something he shouldn’t be. He backed up against the wall, resting his head against it as he watched with lidded eyes as Derek soothed his sister, despite how worked up he was himself.
Derek always put others first.
Stiles closed his eyes and breathed. His boyfriend needed to think about himself more often, but when was that? When he wasn’t taking care of Laura? How about when Stiles wasn’t having a slight panic attack at a Halloween party? Or when he wasn’t working on his thesis to get his master’s degree. Stiles slid down the wall and watched Derek wrap his arms around Laura, kissing her forehead just as he kissed Stiles’.
“Which one do you want to go to?” Derek asked her again, bringing Stiles out of his own thoughts. Laura sniffled, looking up at Stiles, biting her lip.
Stiles couldn’t help but give her a smile. He crawled over to her on the tiled floor, hugging her. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “I just think about Kate and Chris and what we would be like if it weren’t for them.” Stiles closed his eyes again, trying not to think about Derek with someone else.
“I know, Laur,” Derek whispered, his hand in hers. He sounded wrecked, but his face didn’t show it at all. Stiles felt selfish, wanting them to come to his house, to stop their tradition of going over to the Argent’s because he didn’t like to think about Derek with Kate, considering the last time he had seen her they had slept together. “But they should know that things are different now.”
Stiles showered, alone, as Derek explained to Sam what happened. When Stiles got out of the shower, pulling on a shirt of Derek’s and crawled into bed, Derek joined him, stripping down to just his briefs. Derek engulfed Stiles, his arms wrapping around him, their legs tangling. It was late, very late, and Stiles had a long, long day ahead of him. Stiles could barely keep his eyes open, he felt himself drifting off as Derek pressed his lips to Stiles’ cheek.
“Thank you for inviting us, for saving me from having to go to their house.” Stiles’ breath caught in his throat. Derek was talking about how he really felt, deep down. He really, truly, didn’t want to be at the Argent’s. Stiles twisted his body so that he was facing Derek, his hand cupping Derek’s face.
“Tell me something,” Stiles asked, his voice barely audible. Derek hummed, his own eyes closing slowly. “Whenever you go to Beacon Hills, do you stay with the Argents?” Derek’s eyes shot open.
“Yes,” Derek answered, his body releasing a sigh as if it was some major confession. In a way, it was. When Stiles had called Derek months ago, when Derek had gone home to visit his uncle, when Derek had slept with Kate... he had been staying at her house. Stiles dry swallowed, his teeth bit down on the inside of his cheek.
“So if you’re going to be coming to our house for Thanksgiving, you are still going to be staying with-”
“I don’t know,” Derek said truthfully. “I have to figure that out.” Stiles shuddered, thinking about Derek sleeping in the same house as her. Derek was his own person, sure, but even Derek himself had said it: Kate was his weakness.
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Stiles waited until the last minute to pack. It was as if he had been avoiding it. Really, he had been. He was on edge about the entire weekend and packing only reminded him that Derek and Laura were coming over for Thanksgiving, but they had been told by the Argents that they were still welcome at their house. Derek had told Stiles the day before that he felt like he couldn’t turn them down, that he had no viable reason to. Stiles’ nostrils flared as he thought about it. He shoved clothes into his bag, shaking his head as he thought about how he had reacted to Derek telling him that there was no reason that Derek shouldn’t stay at Kate’s house.
Stiles had gone silent on Derek. He had gone home and fumed about it as he angrily typed up an essay that was due at midnight, then went to bed alone.
Now, he realized, that Derek would actually be spending more time with Kate than with him while in Beacon Hills and it made his stomach churn. Stiles gritted his teeth as he grabbed his phone, dialing Derek’s number. He placed the phone on his shoulder, holding it in place with his ear as he packed his books. All of them. He planned on studying a lot while at home, or at least trying to study.
“Hey,” Derek answered, sounding surprised.
“Do you think you could... ride with me up to Beacon Hills?” Stiles asked as he gathered highlighters, pens, and note cards.
“I could ask Laura, but I don’t see why not. She usually likes driving anyways, and she likes to sing really loud on long car rides so... let’s go ahead and say yes.” Stiles smiled, relieved. “You okay? You left in a hurry last night.” Of course Derek wouldn’t let his attitude slide by unnoticed.
“I’m better, just...” Stiles sighed, pinching his nose with his index finger and thumb. “Frustrated.”
“So am I,” Derek admitted. “Listen, I know this is putting a strain on us, but I plan on only being at their house to sleep.”
“Or you could just sleep at my house,” Stiles said, whining a bit.
“You told me you guys don’t have a spare bedroom.”
“Your dad is okay with me sleeping in your room with you?” Derek asked. Stiles bit his lip, shaking his head.
“Not that I know of? We haven’t talked about it. But he knows that I’ve had sex, he knows we are-” Stiles huffed in exasperation. “I just really... really, agh...” Stiles didn’t even know where he was going with that train of thought. “Climb in through my window.”
“No,” Derek said, unamused. “I am not sneaking into your house.” Stiles had a great mental picture of Derek scaling his wall, knocking on his window, then slipping inside.
“Fine,” Stiles joked. “Well, at least I get to you to myself for the car ride, then.”
“What time do you want to leave?” Derek asked. Stiles shrugged.
“I’m packing now, when did Laura want to leave?”
“Well, if she is driving there alone, I bet she’ll leave late today. We can go whenever.”
“Alright, I can come get you whenever I am done?”
“I’ll be ready,” Derek assured him. Stiles hung up, rushing to finish packing. Derek told Stiles he didn’t want to hang out with Kate, didn’t want to be in their house unless he was sleeping. That made Stiles feel better, but he was still uneasy about the whole thing. He felt like this weekend was going to be bumpy, that nothing would be easy. He hoped he was wrong.
The drive to Beacon Hills wasn’t long, not really. Not when Derek was in the car with him. Derek talked about how he wanted to take Stiles to meet his uncle in the morning while the turkey was in the oven. Stiles was nervous, but he wasn’t sure why. The way that Derek described his uncle he was basically a shell of a man, his body burned, mind barely there. But he wanted to meet Derek’s only surviving family member besides Laura. It was important to him.
“Do you need to do anything cooking wise today?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head.
“No, tomorrow night, yeah. I will start, if your dad doesn’t mind if I come over?”
“No, no. I don’t think he’d mind. If anything, he’d be grateful. To be honest, since my mom... we haven’t really done the full Thanksgiving thing. He usually fries a turkey and I mash some potatoes, because I can do that, and then we watch football,” Stiles admitted, his fingers strumming on the steering wheel.
“Well then, you can be in charge of the mashed potatoes.”
Stiles smiled at him, an eyebrow raised.
“I’m on that, and the jello.” Derek snorted, shaking his head. “I love jello.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
“I’ll make sure to grab my mom’s recipes before tonight.”
“Where are they?” Stiles asked. Derek looked down at his hands, sighing.
“At the Argent’s.”
“Ah,” Stiles said, chewing on his bottom lip absentmindedly. “Do I need to, like, drop you off or...?”
“No, no. Laura can come get me tonight whenever she gets in.”
“‘Kay,” Stiles said, trying to think of something else to dispel the sudden tension that filled the car. Derek’s phone buzzed, he was getting an incoming call. He let out an audible sigh, rolling his eyes as he answered it.
“Yeah,” he said, clearly unamused at whoever was calling. Stiles stomach clenched. He knew who it was. “We’re driving to town now, yeah- no, I’m not going to be there for dinner. Laura is driving in separately.” Derek’s jaw clenched as he looked towards Stiles. Stiles was watching Derek out of the corner of his eye. Derek reached over, his palm up, asking for Stiles’ hand. Stiles gave it to him, letting Derek’s fingers intertwine with his. Stiles breathed out heavily, concentrating on driving. “I’ll be in later, after she gets to town. What? I’m with Stiles, I rode in with-” Derek closed his eyes, hanging up the phone. Stiles swallowed, his eyes staying ahead.
“Kate,” Derek said through gritted teeth, his mood shot. Stiles bit the inside of his cheek.
“If she calls back are you going to answer it?” Stiles asked, his voice biting. Derek exhaled, shaking his head.
“Shouldn’t have answered it in the first place.” Stiles nodded in agreement, but said nothing. He didn’t want to fight, because then Derek would only have one place to go: Kate’s.
“Well, now she knows when you’ll be there, so she should just leave it at that,” Stiles said, shrugging. “I mean, what was she expecting? You to show up at family dinner like everything was fine?”
“Yes,” Derek mumbled. Stiles scoffed, pulling his hand away. “She thinks things will go back to how they were.”
“But?” Stiles asked.
“Of course it won’t, it can’t,” Derek said genuinely, his brow furrowed as if he had thought the notion of things going back hadn’t even occurred to him. “I don’t want it to.” Stiles would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to hear Derek say that. “I told you, I want to be with you.” Stiles reached for Derek’s hand, squeezing it. Derek pulled on Stiles’ hand, bringing it up to his lips, kissing it lightly. Stiles let out a contented sigh.
“This weekend is going to be hard,” he confessed. Derek nodded.
“We can survive it, though.”
When Stiles pulled up to his driveway, his dad’s patrol car was parked in it.
“Here goes nothing,” Stiles said under his breath as he grabbed his bags out of the back of his Jeep. Derek took his bookbag from him, pretending it had a pile of bricks in it by almost dropping it to the ground. Stiles laughed.
“What the-” Derek said, shaking his head at Stiles. “Just how much studying were you planning on doing this weekend?” he asked. Stiles shrugged, licking his lips.
“I packed in case, you, you know, were going to be spending a lot of time over-”
“You really, really didn’t need to pack this many,” Derek said lightly, a smirk on his face. “I plan on being with you.”
“I’m beginning to understand that, now,” Stile said, nudging Derek with his shoulder. Every time Derek said it, it chipped away at Stiles’ doubts. He knew, though, that at night he wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that Derek was under the same roof as she was. He wouldn’t call it jealousy, because he wasn’t jealous of her, per se. More worried about the impact she would have on Derek, on how she would make him feel, on what she would do. Stiles had no say in what she did or said, that he knew, but he couldn’t help but think about it.
His dad brought Stiles out of his musings by opening the front door.
“Stiles!” His dad called out, hugging him, patting him on the back. Stiles wrapped an arm around his dad, the one not carrying his duffel bag. The Sheriff smiled at Derek, letting go of Stiles and extending his hand. Derek took it, shaking it with a firm grip. Stiles watched both of them, apparently sizing up the other.
“Derek, how’s that degree coming?” the Sheriff asked. Derek smiled warmly at him, nodding his head.
“And your sister?”
“Also good, sir. She isn’t on her way yet, she’ll be coming in tonight.”
“Thank you for riding with my son, then,” his dad said. They were being really, really formal. Stiles arched an eyebrow. Then it dawned on him: he had never brought anyone home officially before. The only time was when he was caught with his pants off , and there was nothing official about that. Stiles’ face flushed as he cleared his throat, wiping his mind of that memory.
“Dad...” Stiles urged him. The Sheriff dropped Derek’s hand, then rubbed both of his together.
“Well, come on in,” he said, placing his hand on Stiles’ shoulder as he head in himself. Stiles exchanged glances with Derek and mouthed ‘sorry’ to him. Derek’s brow furrowed as he shook his head once and mouthed back ‘why?’
Stiles’ stomach did somersaults.
“Now, I have to head into work soon-” the Sheriff started to say. Stiles’ shoulders sagged as he frowned. “Don’t look at me like that, I had to pull a few strings to get Thursday off, so I am working tonight and a double tomorrow-”
“Dad,” Stiles whined, elongating the word like a child would.
“I’m sure you’ll survive without me. I left you a twenty on the kitchen counter-”
“I have money, dad,” Stiles supplied, but the Sheriff only shook his head.
“While in town, how about you let me treat you? Save that loan money for your ramen and coffee at school.” Stiles cleared his throat uncomfortably. For some reason, he didn’t really want Derek to know he didn’t have a lot of money to throw on eating out all the time, and neither did his dad.
“Thanks, dad,” Stiles offered, giving his dad a hug before he left.
“Now you two-” the Sheriff said, pointing at the both of them. “Don’t... do anything stupid.” Stiles made a face at his father’s choice of words while Derek remained silent. “I mean it.”
“Nothing stupid, got it.”
“I’ll be home late. It was nice officially meeting you, Derek,” he said, shaking Derek’s hand again. After he’s gone, Stiles and Derek exchange glances.
“So, want go fuck on my bed?” Stiles asked, smirking. Derek shoved him playfully, shaking his head.
“Ah, no. You’re dad has a shotgun. And a shovel.”
“Oh, come on. He didn’t kill the last guy that blew me-” Stiles stopped mid sentence because Derek had his arms around him, his mouth was on his neck and Stiles didn’t even have time to finish being self-deprecating because Derek was there making him feel like he wasn’t nothing.
Stiles grabbed at Derek, his hand bringing Derek’s mouth closer to his. They kissed, breathing each other in as hands slid down bodies, grasping at each other. Stiles moaned, closing his eyes as Derek’s hand gripped his ass.
“You sure?” Stiles teased, his lips pressed against Derek’s.
“No fucking,” Derek growled, pushing back, ending the kiss. “But I do want to see your room.”
Stiles wiped at his mouth, nodding his head. His lips felt swollen already from kissing Derek, his body practically buzzing at his touch. Stiles took Derek upstairs, trying to go as quickly past the wall of family portraits as he could. It didn’t work. Derek stopped and looked at every single one, his fingers linked with Stiles’. Stiles watched Derek’s eyes slide from picture to picture, taking them in.
“You look like your mom,” Derek said softly. Stiles gulped, nodding his head.
“Parents had a thing with you and photos of Santa, huh?” Derek asked, pulling Stiles closer to him. Stiles rolled his eyes, worrying at his bottom lip.
“Yeah, uh, every year we did it for Christmas cards. I hated it.”
“I can tell,” Derek joked. Stiles poked him in the side. Stiles really didn’t like that his dad kept all of the Santa pictures up, along with all of their family photos. Stiles pulled Derek down the hall, though, and into his room. Safer territory.
“Wow, this is so you,” Derek said, looking around at the posters on the wall, ones that hadn’t been touched or added to since high school. Eventually, Derek sat down on Stiles’ bed. He looked odd, sitting there in Stiles’ childhood room when he was so used to Derek being apart from this back at school. Stiles joined him, pulling his legs up, crossing them as he sat facing Derek, his hands finding Derek’s.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” Stiles said plainly.
“I wish I was staying here with you,” Derek admitted. Stiles smiled, nodding.
“You could, still-”
“No stupid stuff,” Derek joked. Stiles pulled at Derek, scooting up the bed. Derek decided to be all dead weight, and just fell over, his face landing in Stiles’ lap. It did not help matters at all. Stiles groaned as Derek pushed himself up onto his elbows then crawl until he was laying down next to Stiles.
“Its not stupid to nap, is it?” Stiles asked, yawning. Derek shook his head as he sat up enough to take off his shoes. Stiles kicked his off, toeing the heel of the opposite foot until they thunked to the floor. Apparently with the lack of sleep, the long drive, and the impending doom that was Kate had made Stiles exhausted. Now that he was home, safe, he felt his defenses lowering, his eyelids becoming heavy. The rise and fall of Derek’s chest next to him, the sound of his breathing, didn’t help matters either. He felt Derek’s touch, his thumb across Stiles’ cheek, as he dozed off, his arm draped over Derek’s stomach.
Of course, their nap was interrupted by Derek’s phone. Sleepily, Stiles rubbed at his eyes, frowning as Derek shifted, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
“Yeah?” Derek said into the receiver, his voice gravelly from sleep. Stiles liked how Derek sounded when he just woke up, or just after sex. Completely wrecked. Stiles bit his lip as he buried his face in Derek’s chest, his fingers grasping Derek’s shirt, holding him close. Derek placed a hand in Stiles’ hair as he nodded his head at whoever was on the phone. He wasn’t tense, so Stiles knew it wasn’t Kate. Stiles tangled his feet with Derek’s, moving his toes, playing around. Derek gave him a smirk, his eyes slowly opening and closing. He looked so comfortable. Stiles didn’t want to move. They were warm, contented, but he knew that it was probably Laura. She was probably coming for him. “I can be ready by then, yeah,” Derek said, sighing. Stiles tugged on Derek’s shirt, getting his attention. Derek looked at him, turning his head towards Stiles’. Stiles held out his hand, asking for the phone. Derek handed over without comment.
“Laura, are you taking Derek from me?” Stiles asked jokingly. Derek turned his body, grabbing Stiles’ thigh and draping Stiles’ leg over his own.
“Unfortunately, yes!” Laura said, laughing. “Actually, I am already in town but Mrs. Argent requests that both of us be present for a late dinner.” Stiles frowned, his brow furrowing as Derek buried his face against Stiles’ shoulder, his hands slipping beneath the fabric of his shirt. “I told Derek I’ll be there in about thirty minutes to get him.”
“Alright,” Stiles said, his voice hushed.
“See you soon!” Laura called out before hanging up. Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat as he put Derek’s phone down. Derek’s tongue on his skin was distracting him, but not enough to make the feeling of dread keep from washing over him.
“Derek-” Stiles whispered, his eyes closing as Derek’s hands cupped his ass, his stubble grazed over his skin. Stiles’ breath hitched in his throat, his fists clenched in the fabric of Derek’s shirt. “Derek,” Stiles said again with more power. He shoved at Derek, pushing him onto his back, straddling him. Derek grunted as Stiles pressed his palms against Derek’s chest looking down at him. Stiles’ eyes were wide, his chest heaving slightly as panic coursed through him.
“It’s just dinner, Stiles,” Derek said, his hands enclosing around Stiles’ wrists. Stiles nodded, leaning over and kissing Derek on the lips, then his cheek, his chin, then finally his neck. Stiles moved his hands, one gripped Derek’s chin, moving his face to the side so that Derek’s neck was exposed. With the other, he reached down between Derek’s legs, cupping him over the fabric of Derek’s jeans. Derek moaned as Stiles marked his skin, biting then lapping at it not at all delicately. Derek’s hands were on Stiles’ thighs, unmoving. He was letting Stiles mark him. Stiles eventually found Derek’s mouth once more, his hands now holding Derek’s face, his fingers in Derek’s hair, his palms just below Derek’s ear’s, thumbs on his cheek bones.
“Marked your territory?” Derek mused. Stiles nodded his head, biting his lip as he sat up, his feet hooked under Derek’s thighs. “Good.”
Derek showed up at Stiles’ house early the next morning. Stiles hadn’t been expecting him, actually, and was still in his sleep clothes: boxers and a t-shirt. His hair was a mess, sticking up every which way it could, and his eyes were barely open as he met Derek at the door. Derek’s eyes raked over him, a smirk playing across his lips. He had his hands shoved into his coat pockets, and his head tilted slightly. Stiles let Derek in, letting his head rest on Derek’s shoulder as soon as he stepped over the threshold.
“You get enough sleep?” Derek asked, his hand coming up and grabbing the back of Stiles’ neck tenderly. Stiles shrugged.
“Was up late,” Stiles let out with a breath. He had barely slept for multiple reasons. One of which was Kate, the other was that he had been studying in bed, which meant he had passed out surrounded by books again. “Coffee.”
“Get dressed and we’ll go get some.”
Stiles stumbled back up the stairs, Derek trailing slowly behind him. Derek watched Stiles change, which only made Stiles want to climb on top of him and defile him right then and there, but coffee. Coffee was needed. His brain muddled, fuzzy from sleep and lack of caffeine, he exchanged boxers for briefs, then pulled on jeans and put on multiple layers. It was chilly outside, so Stiles dealt with his messy hair by pulling a beanie over it.
He was ready for coffee and possible a scone. Or a muffin. He wanted a muffin.
“Okay,” Stiles said, clapping his hands together once. “Wait, no. Not ready,” he said, walking out of his room to brush his teeth. Derek showing up threw off his groove. When Stiles reappeared, Derek was looking at his bookcase. “Seriously, ready this time.”
“Good,” Derek said, his voice quiet. Stiles wanted to ask him how the dinner went, how the night at the Argent’s was, but he didn’t want to pry. Stiles did notice, though, that the mark on Derek’s neck was still there, just at the line of his shirt. It made Stiles smile.
The drive to the coffee shop was short, and parking was easy. Stiles ordered his usual while at home, along with a muffin. When Derek said he was paying, Stiles protested. This, this was why he didn’t want Derek to know that he survived off his student loans.
“I got it,” Stiles said, gritting his teeth. Derek raised an eyebrow.
“Nope,” he responded, popping the ‘p’. Stiles narrowed his eyes, but gave in.
“I’m getting ours next time.”
“Alright,” Derek said. Stiles chose a couch by the window, curling up with one leg underneath him as Derek sat next to him, making sure they were touching. “So, how’d it go?” Stiles asked. He couldn’t hold back any more. Derek, mid-sip, shrugged.
“Dinner was nice,” he supplied once he had swallowed. “We got to catch up with everyone. My bed is the same. Laura and I share the guest bedroom.”
“Is it really a guest bedroom, or-”
“I guess it is more... our bedroom.” Stiles nodded. “Things like our parent’s recipes are there, some stuff that couldn’t come with us to college. Things we should probably not leave there any longer but that the Argent’s aren’t too keen on losing us forever. We’re sort of like family to them,” Derek whispered. Stiles stayed silent by putting some muffin in his mouth. Derek exhaled slowly, his cheeks puffing out slightly. “You want to go grocery shopping for tomorrow?” he asked, changing the subject. Stiles shrugged.
“Do we have a list?” Stiles asked.
“I mean... no,” Derek said, lifting an eyebrow. “Alright how about we go back to your house, raid the pantry, see what we need, make a list, then go?”
Stiles made a face.
“This all seems like a lot of work.”
“But it is going to taste amazing.”
As it turned out, the Stilinski pantry was pretty much empty. Stiles made a face that was somewhere between ‘I don’t know what I expected’ and ‘Well this is going to be a long grocery run’. Derek stood there, biting his lip.
“Well, Laura said she would bring by the recipe box later on, but we can do a major grocery run now.”
“Okay,” Stiles said looking around for paper and a pen. He ended up running up to his room to get it. Derek sat down at the kitchen table and started writing. Stiles grabbed the twenty dollar bill his dad had put on the counter the night before, pocketing it to help with the groceries.
Grocery shopping with Derek was something he had never done before. Derek had everything listed by aisle, which Stiles thought was very interesting. He never really thought of Derek being well organized or someone that made lists but apparently that was how Derek always grocery shopped. Stiles was more of a ‘walk down an aisle slowly then pick out what looked good’ sort of guy. But then again, Stiles lived in a dorm and mostly only bought easy mac and energy drinks.
“Can we get this?” Stiles asked, pointing at kale when they were in the produce section. Derek shook his head.
“I’m not making kale.”
“How about this?” Stiles asked, pointing at the turnips. Derek shot him a look. Stiles moved his finger, pointing at the zucchini, then to the squash every time Derek’s eyebrow rose higher. “No fun,” he said, shuffling his feet along the linoleum floor as he pushed the cart, hanging most of his body weight onto it. “What veggies are we eating?” Stiles asked.
“Green bean casserole and yams, then you are making mashed potatoes.”
“Fuck yeah mashed potatoes,” Stiles said in a sing-song voice as Derek picked out the yams. “So good.” Derek smiled at him, which made Stiles grin.
“Can you go grab a gallon of milk? And bread, we need bread for the stuffing,” Derek said as he picked up celery for the stuffing. Stiles nodded, pushing himself off of the cart. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked towards the dairy section.
“Stiles!” he heard his name being called out and spun around to see Allison come into view. He grinned, taking a step towards her until he saw that Allison wasn’t alone. Stiles stilled, his breath catching in his throat.
“Stiles?” The female asked. Her hair was dirty blonde, almost brown, and curled just so. She was stunning. Kate. Allison nodded her head.
“Stiles, this is my sister Kate, Kate? This is Stiles, he is best friends with Scott.”
“Your Scott?” Kate asked, her eyes raking up and down Stiles like he was a piece of meat. Allison nodded, a smile on her face. Stiles wanted to run, but he stayed in place. Kate extended her hand, a fake smile plastered across her face. Stiles could tell it was fake because it looked forced. He couldn’t even move his face at all, let alone give her a smile. He extended his hand, though, taking hers in his. “So, you’re Stiles.”
“Yes,” Stiles said, pulling his hand back. “And you’re Kate.” Kate smiled and it was the most evil thing Stiles had ever encountered in his life.
“I am.” Allison looked confused and then it hit her like a ton of bricks.
“Derek,” Allison said, as if it hadn’t occurred to her until that second. “Oh.” Both Kate and Stiles looked to Allison.
“Well, I’m going to go get some milk-”
“You know, Stiles,” Kate said, her voice way too sweet to be genuine. “I feel like we should chat, you and I.”
“About what?” Stiles asked, looking over at Kate’s shoulder, noticing Derek rounding the corner. He locked eyes with Stiles, seeing who he was with. Stiles’ back straightened. Derek was coming towards them.
“You know what about,” Kate said nonchalantly, looking over her shoulder as if she knew Derek was behind her. “Der,” she said, using Laura’s nickname for him. Stiles’ stomach lurched. “We just bumped into your little plaything.” Stiles’ eyes widened in anger. Plaything?
“What the-” Stiles began to say when Derek put the cart between Stiles and Kate, blocking him off.
“Kate,” Derek said in a warning tone. Kate raised her eyebrow at him, her teeth grazing over her bottom lip as she not so subtly brought her left hand up to her mouth as if she was saying ‘oops’. That was when Stiles’ eye caught the glint of something.
A ring. Kate was wearing a ring. Not just any kind of ring... it was an engagement ring.
“Shit,” Stiles muttered, taking in a deep breath and holding it. Kate was wearing an engagement ring? Holy mother fucking shit was Derek fucking serious right now? Kate looked to Stiles, sighing dramatically, then looked bored. Stiles turned towards the milk. His wrist was caught by Derek, stopping him before he got far.
“Stiles-” Derek began to say, but Stiles yanked his hand away, glaring at him.
“I’m getting the fucking milk. You get the bread,” Stiles hissed before he walked away. He needed a moment to think. As he walked away, he heard Derek’s voice aimed at Kate. Stiles rounded a corner, then stared at the milk in earnest. He bit the inside of his cheek, his brow furrowed, his hands shoved in his hoodie pockets. Kate wasn’t his ex-girlfriend, she was his ex-fiancee. But she was still wearing the ring. He wasn’t just connected to her family because of the fact that he and Laura had lived with them, they were actually going to be family. Stiles shut his eyes. Sam knew Laura because of Kate, Kate called Laura all the time, they stayed at the Argent’s house whenever they visited their uncle. They practically were Argents themselves. Stiles was breathing rapidly, shallowly, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Stiles,” Derek voice filled his ears. Stiles shut his eyes tighter. Derek’s hand slid down his back. “She did it on purpose, Stiles, come on.” Stiles opened his eyes, surprised to find them brimmed with tears. He wiped at them, turning away from Derek. The cart was there, along with the bread and the milk.
“Fiancée?” Stiles rasped, looking at Derek, then at the floor. Derek’s shoulders sagged.
“What the fuck?!” Stiles said, raising his arms a bit, then letting them drop down to his sides.
“It’s over, Stiles. Ex-fiancée. It isn’t happening.”
“You slept with her, though,” Stiles snapped. Derek shut his mouth like he was slapped. Stiles covered his mouth with his hand, shaking his head as he looked at the ceiling. “I really, really don’t want to do this in the middle of a grocery store,” Stiles whispered dejectedly. Derek nodded once, remaining quiet.
The milk and bread had been the last on the list, so they checked out. Stiles pulled out his father’s twenty, and some of his own money and shoved it in Derek’s hand. Derek pocketed it, then paid with a card. As soon as they were in the car, Stiles covered his steering wheel with his arms, then rest his head on it.
His heart was beating so fast he could barely think straight. He felt exhausted and the silence was killing him.
“I shoudn’t have said that,” Stiles said, sitting up.
“It was true,” Derek muttered, licking his dried lips. Stiles sniffled, wiping his hand absently across his nose. Stiles felt empty, like crumpling inwards, folding in on himself, disappearing.
“What she called me-”
“You are not a plaything,” Derek hissed through clenched teeth, his anger not towards Stiles, but obviously towards his ex-fiancée. Stiles’ mouth was bone dry. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head slightly.
“I feel like it, though,” he admitted. Derek closed his eyes. “I feel like it, Derek,” Stiles remarked as he turned the car on.
“I don’t want you to feel that way.” Stiles shrugged.
“I feel like I am in the middle of some game she is playing with you, that to her, I am some obstacle she is planning on beating-”
“No,” Derek proclaimed, his fists pounding against his own thigh. Stiles flinched, more so for the fact that Derek had just punched himself than for any other reason. “I refuse to fucking let her manipulate you.”
“Manipulate?” Stiles asked.
“She gets into your mind, Stiles. Just... let’s go to your dad’s, all right?” Derek proposed, rubbing his face with his hands. Stiles did just that.
They unloaded the groceries, then Derek set out to prepare what he needed to for the next day. He handed Stiles the entire loaf of bread and a giant bowl. “Rip each piece up.”
Stiles ripped to his hearts content.
“Why does she still have the ring?” Stiles asked, because that conversation was nowhere near over.
Derek stopped chopping celery.
“Because she thinks we’re getting back together.”
“But you’re not-”
“No, we aren’t. We aren’t because I-” Derek grit his teeth as he looked at Stiles. “I am with you, and even if I wasn’t? We broke up. We broke up before I met you. I had been single for months and I was dealing with it-” Derek took a deep breath. “I fucked up, I fucked up over fall break because I gave her what she wanted. I caved.”
“You say that like you didn’t want it.”
“I didn’t. We were doing fine, we had a few drinks, we were talking, I actually mentioned you-”
“You what?” Stiles voiced, eyebrows raised.
“I mentioned you to her, which was a mistake. Because then I ended up in her bed.”
“How exactly does you mentioning me end with you in bed with her?”
“I don’t know, Stiles,” Derek said, putting the knife down. He walked over to where Stiles was seated at the kitchen table and knelt down in front of him, his hands on Stiles’ knees. “But I don’t want you looking at me like you did at the store.”
“Like I betrayed you somehow.”
“I have a past, and it is a little fucked up. My family? Nonexistent. My love life? Screwed to hell. You, though? I don’t want to lose you.”
Stiles bit his lip.
“I was afraid that if you stayed at their house you’d get back with her.”
“Not fucking likely,” Derek rushed out. “Give me more credit than that?” Stiles nodded. “Because the only person I want to fuck in this town? Is ripping apart bread for tomorrow’s meal.” Stiles managed to laugh.
“Sleep here?” Stiles requested again. Derek shook his head.
“I promised I’d be there for breakfast tomorrow. They are doing it up big since Laura and I will be over here all day.” Stiles nodded, looking down at his hands. Derek was here right now, Derek told him not even minutes before that he was with Stiles, so what the fuck was wrong with him? He didn’t feel any better about the situation. It was like there was some sort of roadblock in Stiles’ mind. That roadblock was Kate, and she was laughing maniacally, her ring sparkling in the moonlight. Stiles shook his head.
“Yeah, duh. If they have muffins, bring me one wrapped in a napkin.”
“Why don’t you come over?” Derek asked. Stiles sputtered, shaking his head no immediately.
“What? No. That sounds like the worst idea I have ever heard in my life.”
“I don’t,” Derek noted, pulling Stiles’ hands closer to his mouth, brushing Stiles’ knuckles over his lips. “I think you meeting them, you’ll find out that they are actually normal, and them meeting you? Chris wants to meet you.”
“He’s my best friend,” Derek implored. “Which you didn’t know, because of stupid reasons like the fact that I try not to bring them up around you because of how you flinch, or how you look like I am about to catch a train back to Kate. Chris? Is awesome. I want you to meet him.”
“Your best friend is Kate’s brother?”
“And your roommate is going out with Kate’s sister,” Derek accused, wide eyed. “Do you dislike Allison?” Stiles shook his head. “So then don’t dislike Chris. Allison will be there, and I promise you that Kate? Won’t sit next to you.”
“I don’t want her next to you, though-”
“Possessiveness looks good on you,” Derek joked, his teeth raking over Stiles’ knuckles. Stiles let out a long breath, pursing his lips together.
“If I go to breakfast, you’re staying here tonight.” Derek raised his eyebrow.
“If I stay here, you need to ask your dad first,” he replied. Stiles took out his phone and dialed his dad even though he was on duty.
“Stiles? Is everything okay?” The Sheriff asked, worried. Stiles bit at his bottom lip.
“Everything’s fine, Derek and I just got back from grocery shopping, we are preparing some stuff for tomorrow... I was just wondering if, uh, he could spend the night tonight?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Stiles,” his dad supposed, as if rubbing the back of his neck as he thought. “I don’t know how I feel about that.” Stiles whined in the back of his throat.
“Well, I was invited to the Argent’s for breakfast tomorrow, and Derek and I have a lot to do to get ready for tomorrow, so really-”
“Breakfast at the Argent’s?”
“Yeah... uh,” Stiles flailed his arm around. “Since we are having Thanksgiving dinner here, Derek and Laura are having breakfast with them, and Derek wants me to be there.”
“I didn’t know you two were this serious, son.” Stiles deflated. Derek stood up and went back to chopping up things, his back turned from Stiles. Stiles stood up and walked into the living room.
“Well, yeah, dad, we are serious.”
“You’ve been dating since your birthday, right?”
“Stiles, that was only a month ago.” Stiles ran his hand over his face in exasperation at his father’s insinuation. Stiles closed his eyes, shaking his head. His father’s voice alone brought to mind the fact that Stiles had said he loved Derek within the first few weeks of them being together. That didn’t matter though, it didn’t change how he felt, or how he knew Derek felt. That wasn’t the issue here, the issue was he wanted Derek to spend the night.
“Dad, I spend the night at his place-”
“Stiles, this is my roof,” The Sheriff demanded. “And you are my son-”
“Who is in a relationship and just so happens to be an adult now?” Stiles wailed, his voice rising higher than he had intended it to. “And if he goes to the Argent’s tonight I can’t just show up at their doorstep alone tomorrow morning. I want to arrive with him,” Stiles implored. “It’s important if I go, that I don’t go alone.” Because it was important. He wouldn’t be able to walk up to their doorstep, alone, and ring their doorbell only to see Kate answer with a smile on her lips as Derek walked up behind her. He wouldn’t do it.
His father sighed, giving in.
“Okay, Stiles. He can stay over.”
“Oh my god-”
“Do not, I repeat, do not... you know what I don’t want you to do,” his father asserted before hanging up the phone. Yeah, Stiles knew. No stupid stuff.
Stiles practically slid into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Derek.
“Slumber party,” he sang, his fingers sliding upwards into Derek’s hair, his lips on his neck. No stupid stuff doesn’t include kissing. Kissing is basically rated PG. Derek chuckled against Stiles’ lips as their mouths fit together easily. Derek’s arms held onto him after he pushed them away from the counter, away from the knife he had been working with.
“I’ll call Mrs. Argent, then.”
Stiles stopped kissing him, his head resting on Derek’s shoulder momentarily. “Don’t look so dejected,” Derek teased as he took out his phone, one hand keeping Stiles snug against him. Stiles could hear it ringing. He would be able to hear everything. He realized that Derek wanted him to hear it, every word.
“Aw, Derek, I’m glad you called. We’re just about to watch Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, are you on your way?” Mrs. Argent asked. Stiles drew his brow together, bringing a hand up, biting at his index finger absentmindedly.
“Actually, I was calling for two reasons. Stiles and I are just now starting to prepare stuff for tomorrow-”
“Yeah,” Derek said, clearing his throat. “I think I’m going to be spending the night here.”
“You know that’s okay, we assumed you would want to spend time with him,” Stiles gasped against Derek’s neck. Derek grinned, nodding his head.
“I do, but I was also calling because I was wondering if he could come to breakfast tomorrow.”
“We’d love that, actually, you know we have the room.” Stiles closed his eyes, because damnit they sounded so fucking nice. At least, Kate’s mom did.
She was Allison’s mom too, though, he had to remind himself. And Allison was awesome. These are the people that Derek had lived with for years before college. Stiles’ grip on Derek’s shirt tightened. “I’ll be sure to set a place for him.”
“Don’t be late, now. Half past nine.”
“We won’t be,” Derek assured her before he hung up. Derek slipped his phone back into his pocket, then exhaled. “You okay?” He asked Stiles. Stiles nodded, but didn’t say anything. They stood there for awhile in silence.
Stiles just had a hard time accepting that the Argent’s were normal. They weren’t evil incarnate. They were all that Laura and Derek had, they just so happened to have a daughter that still had Derek’s ring on her finger. Stiles frowned, taking a step back from Derek.
“Let’s finish getting this stuff ready, I want to go to bed.” Derek nodded in agreement. He did ask that they put on Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, which Stiles had no problem doing. Derek explained about how they had always watched all the Charlie Brown specials each holiday and that The Great Pumpkin was his favorite. Stiles didn’t think the proper reaction was to want to blow him, but he didn’t really trust his mind at that moment so he pushed it aside.
While Derek prepared things, Stiles made them sandwiches for dinner, because Derek was taking up the whole kitchen. They ate in the living room, curled up on the couch as they watched whatever action movie was on FX at the time. Stiles didn’t even notice that he fell asleep, his head in Derek’s lap, until Derek was forcing him to get up.
“Leave a light on for dad,” Stiles mumbled as Derek started turning off lights.
“Got it,” Derek replied before he slipped his arms around Stiles, pulling him off the couch.
Stiles’ bed felt like home, and with Derek in it, too, he was in heaven. They tangled their limbs together, Derek’s hand on Stiles’ cheek, his nose pressed against his hair. Derek always seemed to do that to him, before they slept, like he couldn’t believe he was there. It made Stiles’ heart flutter as his body relaxed and his breathing evened out, his eyelids refusing to stay open.
“Have to shower in the morning,” Stiles muttered, his lips barely moving. “Alarm?”
“I set it, don’t worry.”
Stiles exhaled deeply, his fingers pulling up on his covers. He then buried his face in the nook between Derek’s neck and shoulder. Derek shifted, draping an arm over Stiles after hiking his leg up further. They fit together like two puzzle pieces, perfectly fine with sharing the space of a twin bed. Stiles puffed out air in a half chuckle.
“Hmm?” Derek hummed, half asleep already. Stiles shook his head, because really? He had nothing to say, he was just relieved that Derek stayed over.
Penultimate chapter! I want to thank my betas lsdme and breakinghorizon, and foreverblue-navy for writing awesome meta about this fic and my characterizations of Stiles and Derek. I want to thank kim, emily, and mel for being amazingly supportive as I wrote this and basically LOTS OF LOVE to everyone who has commented.
Seriously, you guys are awesome.
When Stiles woke up, Derek wasn’t with him. He frowned, stretching across the bed in attempt to wake up. He heard banging coming from downstairs, and could smell it: Thanksgiving food. The smells were distinct and they made his mouth water. He looked at his alarm clock: 8:01 am.
Stiles climbed out of bed and made his way downstairs to find Derek in the kitchen talking with his dad. Derek had a cup of coffee and was leaning against the counter as his dad did dishes. Derek looked clean, like he just showered. He shaved, which Stiles hadn’t been expecting. Derek lifted an eyebrow at Stiles.
“I was just about to come wake you,” Derek said, offering Stiles some of his coffee. Stiles took a sip of it, his eyes on his dad as he drank from Derek’s mug.
“You look like the walking dead, son,” the Sheriff joked. Derek chuckled behind him. Stiles narrowed his eyes over the mug.
“Go shower and you can have your own cup,” Derek teased, taking his mug back. Stiles pouted, unable to hold any sort of conversation yet. He hummed as Derek pressed his lips to Stiles’ forehead, though.
“You know, Stiles, Derek has been up for a few hours already, getting things ready for when you guys get back.”
Stiles yawned, scratching his head. He didn’t know what his dad was getting to, really. It was too early for thinking.
“I just wanted to make sure we wouldn’t be behind, had to get the turkey in the oven.” Stiles looked over and, yeah, the turkey was in there. “Glad we made the jello last night,” Derek added. Stiles grunted, happy they did that as well because there was no way he was doing it before breakfast.
Stiles’ eyes shot open. Breakfast at the Argent’s. Derek must have realized what Stiles had just remembered because he handed Stiles his coffee and ushered him up the stairs. “You going to give me the silent treatment all day?” Derek asked, his voice light, joking. Stiles grunted. “I don’t speak caveman.”
“Ha ha,” Stiles rasped. He cleared his throat. “I’m not up yet.”
“Zombie!Stiles strikes again.”
“Every morning,” Stiles chimed as he walked into the bathroom. Derek followed him, leaning against the sink as Stiles turned the shower on, setting down the mug.
“We need to talk, before we go over there.” Stiles sighed, nodded his agreement.
“Shower first?” Stiles asked, sticking his hand under the spray, waiting for it to warm up. Not satisfied, he nudged Derek out of the way so he could wash his hands and put his contacts in. Derek watched him intently, not leaving as Stiles started striping.
“I’m going to go write down some things for your dad to do while we are gone,” Derek said as he left, shutting the door behind Stiles. When Stiles got out of the shower, he wasn’t surprised at all to find Derek in his room, waiting for him.
“Talking while I change?” Stiles suggested as he dropped his towel. He didn’t even blush as Derek’s eyes traveled down his body. Stiles pulled up a pair of boxer briefs, then bent over his duffel bag, looking for whatever he brought that looked nicest. He hadn’t been expecting to meet Derek’s family because, well...
Stiles threw a shirt down, his face showing his frustration.
“I feel like you need to know something before we go over,” Derek confided. Stiles arched an eyebrow, his attention completely on Derek. Derek was looking down at his hands, breathing carefully like he had to remember how in order to survive.
“I’m listening,” Stiles answered as he pulled on a pair of jeans.
“I haven’t said the words that you told me... since the day my family died.” Stiles’ breath caught in his throat. “I haven’t said them to anyone, not even Laura.”
“Why?” Stiles asked, his voice coming out hoarsely.
“Because it was the last thing I said to them,” Derek breathed out as if it had been killing him to keep it in any longer. “And I want you to know... that I feel that way. I feel it, but I can’t say it-”
“Derek,” Stiles said, his voice consoling him as he stepped towards the bed. He sat down next to Derek, taking his hand. “You don’t need to say it,” Stiles trembled, shaking his head slightly. “I know it, I know you do.”
“You do?” Derek asked, sighing in relief.
“Duh,” Stiles joked. “You wouldn’t be here? You’d be at the Argent’s, having Thanksgiving with them. But if we don’t leave soon we are going to be late.”
“We don’t want that,” Derek mused, his lips pressing against Stiles’. “And you need to finish getting dressed.”
Stiles groaned as he pushed himself off the bed, unable to wipe the grin off of his face because Derek fucking loved him.
Stiles didn’t know why but he thought that the Argent’s would be intimidating. The most intimidating thing was the fact that they had dogs, which were all huge. Great Danes, actually, three of them. He hadn’t been expecting to have dogs the size of him greet him at the door along with Kate. She had a smile on her face as she hugged Derek. Stiles refused to let it get to him, though, and paid attention to the lovable dogs that could tackle him at a moments notice.
“That’s Jake, Sylvi, and Turner,” Derek said by way of introduction. Stiles got a kiss on the face from Sylvi, who he deemed his favorite immediately.
“You guys are right on time,” A woman’s voice chimed in as the door opened wider. Mrs. Argent appeared and Stiles stood up straight in order to meet her. They were ushered inside, the door shutting behind them. Stiles pushed the thought of ‘there is no turning back now’ out of his mind because Mrs. Argent was hugging Derek, then she did the unexpected: she hugged Stiles. Stiles was sure his facial expression said it all... it had been a long time since he had a motherly touch. He was sure Derek felt the same, probably even more so.
“It’s nice to meet you, Stiles, is it?” She asked. Stiles nodded. “Is that a nickname?”
“Yeah, my mom gave me my Grandfather’s first name. I couldn’t say it let alone spell it when I was younger so...” Stiles trailed off. He didn’t want Kate to know his name, it felt too personal for her to know, considering Derek didn’t even know it. Mrs. Argent looked pleased with his answer, though, so they were brought into the living room. Allison was there, watching the Thanksgiving day parade with who Stiles guessed was Chris by the way he got off the couch and bro-hugged Derek. He then proceeded to show Stiles how strong he was by the way of shaking Stiles’ hand. Stiles tried not to flinch because damn, son.
Mr. Argent appeared from the kitchen and he was by far the scariest of the Argent’s, Kate notwithstanding. He looked military, with a sly smile that Stiles could only characterize as menacing.
“Derek, good of you to make it,” Mr. Argent said, but his eyes were on Stiles. Stiles felt himself take a step towards Derek instinctively. Mr. Argent obviously was under the impression that Stiles stole Derek from his little girl, he could practically feel it radiating off of him. “This must be the Sheriff’s son, Stiles.”
So Mr. Argent looked Stiles up, no big deal, he could handle that.
“Sorry I wasn’t at dinner last night,” Derek supplied as Laura walked in, rubbing Stiles’ back as a welcome. She looked radiant, happy. Stiles could see what Derek meant by the fact that Laura needed family.
“Well, breakfast is served,” Mrs. Argent announced. “Stiles, do you drink milk, orange juice, or water?” Stiles thought about it.
“Orange juice, please.” He got a smile and a nod as he was ushered into the dining room. He was seated next to Laura and Allison, which, whoa, he did not sign up for this. Derek sat across from him, between Chris and Kate. Derek was sitting next to Kate. The look on Derek’s face said everything: remain calm, it was okay, everything would be fine. Stiles breathed out. His seat even had his name written on a little card. How quaint. Ten to one says Kate set the table.
Breakfast, of course, was delicious. Stiles ate his weight in bacon and hash brown casserole. He was glad Allison was sitting next to him, because he felt more comfortable talking to her, mostly about Scott, and then Laura to his left practically bouncing as she dunked her toast into her eggs while she talked with Mrs. Argent. Stiles may not like that he wasn’t sitting next to Derek, but at least they were sitting directly across from each other. Stiles touched his foot to Derek’s, who smiled through a bite of bacon.
Well, Derek smiled until it fell and his back straightened, to which Stiles’ gaze shot to Kate. She was eating her eggs, with the wrong hand. Her right was underneath the table, conveniently. Stiles almost choked on his hash browns.
“Kate, I need to talk to you for a minute,” Derek spoke up as he pushed his chair back. Stiles saw Kate’s hand on Derek’s thigh as Derek stood, which, wow, what a fucking shit thing for her to do. Stiles exchanged looks with Laura because she had her hand on his wrist. She had a look on her face that definitely screamed something like ‘oh shit here it goes’ because Kate, her face stoic, followed Derek into the kitchen, the door shutting behind them.
The table was quiet until Chris cleared his throat and tried to ask Stiles if he liked football. Stiles barely had time to open his mouth before there was a crash in the kitchen.
“You can’t fucking be serious!” Stiles heard Kate scream. Stiles shut his eyes as he felt his cheeks reddening and Laura’s grip on him tighten.
“You have got to be kidding me, Kate,” Derek’s voice rang out. “You can’t touch me, you can’t force me to do anything! I came here to be civil but apparently you can’t handle that-” Derek’s voice was calmer than Kate’s, but it was shaking. The kitchen door was a swinging door, and really? Anything but inside voices could be heard.
“I didn’t force you to do shit, Der,” Kate spat. “You were supposed to come running back-”
“Not happening, Kate.”
“Why not?” Another crash. “I don’t see why the fuck you are with him-”
“Okay, dear,” Mrs. Argent’s voice said, distilling the shouting. She was talking to Stiles, apparently, because she was standing next to his chair. “I think you and I should go stop this before they break all of my tea cups.” Stiles stood, nodding his head as Mrs. Argent grabbed hold of his wrist. Laura released her hold on him so that he could go into the kitchen. As soon as they entered, Kate threw something at Stiles.
It was a tea cup.
It shattered against the door.
“Kathleen Marie Argent ,you stop that at once!” Mrs. Argent shouted. Kate was crying as Derek stood to the side, his arms crossed and jaw set tight. “If you break one more tea cup you will be paying for every single one of those. I don’t know what it is about you two not being able to be in the same room together but we discussed this, didn’t we?”
“I’m sorry-” Derek started but she silenced him with a look. Derek looked to Stiles, who was looking at Kate.
“Derek was mine,” Kate said, acting like Derek was some sort of possession. “And he,” she pointed at Stiles, “he thinks he can just walk into his life and-”
“That is none of your business,” Derek bellowed. “None. Kate, you need to give me that ring right now.” Kate recoiled. Mrs. Argent took a step forward.
“No,” Kate whined.
“You need to give it back, because its over.”
“We were getting married, Derek!” Kate tried to prove a point, but Stiles wasn’t exactly sure what that point was.
“I didn’t love you,” Derek said simply. Stiles shut his eyes, his breath catching in his throat. He thought about what it would feel like to hear those words coming from Derek. It would destroy him. Kate raged, screaming towards Derek.
“Stop!” Stiles shouted, his fists clenched at his sides. “Kate, you need to stop.”
“You can’t tell me what to do you little piece of shit,” Kate reeled. Stiles stood his ground as she approached him. Her mother stepped between them just as Derek reached Stiles, holding onto his arm as if about to pull him away.
“Kate, go upstairs,” her mother barked. Kate looked from her mother to Derek, who was standing next to Stiles, avoiding her gaze. Kate stomped past them. Mrs. Argent turned towards Stiles and Derek, sighing sadly. “Derek, I’m sorry. We talked about this,” she said, looking at Stiles as if he had been the one they had talked about, “and I’m happy that you’ve found someone who makes you happy, but it breaks my heart to see Kate like this.”
“I understand,” Derek said, his voice hushed as his hand found Stiles’.
“You and Laura are like family, it’s hard... realizing that it’s over,” she pat Derek’s cheek as she went upstairs. Laura walked in, almost stepping on broken pieces of tea cup. Stiles bent over, releasing Derek’s hand to start picking up the broken pieces.
“Is she okay?” Laura asked, which Stiles found surprising. She asked about Kate instead of about Derek? Derek nodded.
“She’ll be fine,” he answered, his voice clipped. Stiles realized then that Derek was right, he had said that Kate was his weakness, but it was obvious that the breakup had basically destroyed her and Laura knew that. She was close to Kate, as was Sam. Derek wasn’t the one who needed consoling, it was Kate. Stiles hadn’t even thought about that, that Kate would be worse off than Derek was.
Derek always put others first. He always answered her calls even when it left his mood completely shot. Stiles wondered how Derek had broken the news to her. He doubted he would ever know, really.
Stiles felt awkward as they walked back into the dining room. Allison had made her way upstairs as well, which wasn’t surprising. Mr. Argent and Chris were talking about something to do with the family business, but stopped once Laura, Derek, and Stiles walked in the room.
“Do you want us to help clear the table?” Derek asked in the midst of exhaling. Mr. Argent shook his head.
“No, Derek, thank you.”
“I’m sorry, for making this awkward-”
“Nothing to be sorry about. Kate is the one that needs to apologize,” Mr. Argent criticized. Stiles held onto his left arm, his right crossing over his chest. He still felt like if he hadn’t been at the breakfast things would have gone smoother. “Things are a bit strained right now.” Mr. Argent stood up, putting a hand to Laura’s back as they walked towards the foyer, putting coats and scarves on.
Stiles was glad they were being ushered out, because he didn’t know if he could handle much more happening. Just as they were about to walk out the door, Mrs. Argent came down the stairs handing Derek the ring, closing his palm over it, then patting it as she kissed his cheek.
“She’s sorry, dear.” Mrs. Argent assured him, her gaze falling to Stiles’. “Hopefully this hasn’t ruined your day.”
“Hopefully it hasn’t ruined yours,” Stiles said, his mouth dry. Everything was so complicated, his emotions were bouncing every which way in his body and all he wanted to do was hug Mrs. Argent which he didn’t think was the correct response to what just happened.
Laura followed them in the Camaro as Stiles drove his Jeep home. It took a couple of minutes before Derek talked. He had the ring in his hand, palm open.
“I just couldn’t do it,” Derek whispered, his voice weak. Stiles bit his lip, chancing a glance at Derek.
“You didn’t, and you aren’t, though, so it’s good that she gave it back.”
“We started dating before my parents died,” Derek admitted. “I thought that staying with her would keep me linked to them. I stayed with her because of how close it made us, but that wasn’t who I was anymore.” Stiles wiped at his eyes, not wanting to show Derek how shot his emotions were. “Our lives are so interconnected, now.”
“But it doesn’t have to be this painful...”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Letting go of the past is hard, so fucking hard,” Stiles empathized. “It’s like... it’s like how dad won’t take down those stupid Santa pictures. If he does, then that is another way of saying she’s really gone. Maybe, I don’t know, maybe being connected to the Argent’s is like that for you and Laura. If you break that line of communication it would be like losing your family all over again.”
Derek nodded his agreement, sliding down in the seat a little more, closing his eyes.
“I didn’t think she would react like that.”
“You can’t control how others act, or what they feel.”
“I know,” Derek rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling angrily. “How are you, though?” Derek asked, his attention on Stiles. Stiles shrugged, shaking his head slightly.
“I don’t know, Derek. I sort of can’t wait to be home and watch you cook and be with my dad? I’m tired and it isn’t even eleven yet.”
“I could use a nap,” Derek laughed out.
“Maybe after we gorge ourselves on turkey.”
“And your mashed potatoes,” Derek added in. Stiles grinned. And his mashed potatoes.
3 years later. Christmas time.
“The lights are crooked,” Laura fussed from across the room. Stiles rolled his eyes as he moved his strand of lights.
“I have pieces of tree in my mouth,” he complained, swatting at his tongue with his hand, making a face. Needles did not taste good.
“So close your mouth, then.”
“You come over here and put the lights where you want them, then,” Stiles rebutted. “Because my hot chocolate is cold, now, thanks to your OCD about this tree.”
“Children, children,” the Sheriff chided as he turned up the TV’s volume. “The game is on.”
Stiles scoffed as he stepped back from the tree, hands on his hips. He looked it up and down, tilting his head to the side.
“Looks even to me, Laur,” Stiles said as he reached for his cooled hot chocolate. He brought it in the kitchen to heat up as the back door opened and Derek walked in, both hands full of bags. “Need help there?” Stiles asked, an eyebrow raised.
“I got it, these are presents, so I’d rather you not look-”
“I wanna see!” Laura called out as she shuffled around ornaments in boxes, unwrapping one carefully. They were Hale ornaments that had been in a storage unit when the house had caught fire in the middle of a summer.
“No chance!” Derek called out, grinning as he made his way upstairs. When he came back down, Stiles was helping Laura decorate the tree. Derek walked up, wrapping his arms around Stiles, kissing his cheek. Stiles closed his eyes, smiling to himself as he put an ornament on the tree. It said: Hale Family Christmas 1993. Derek kissed Stiles’ neck as his fingers ran across the words, Derek’s grip on Stiles tightening.
“Such a Kodak moment,” Laura said, putting her fingers up to her eye as if Derek and Stiles were in a picture frame. Stiles flipped Laura off, a smirk on his face. She returned the gesture then dug back into the box of their family’s ornaments.
“Where is the one that Anna made?” Laura asked to no one in particular. “I want to make sure that one makes it on the tree.”
“It has to be in there somewhere,” Derek assured her. He hadn’t let go of Stiles yet, his body swaying back and forth lightly.
“I packed it away last year, I know I did,” Stiles offered. “Maybe it made it into the other box? In our ornaments...” Stiles meant the Stilinski ornaments. They were bound to be mixed, since they were a family. Laura began looking in a different box, sighing with relief when she pulled out the handmade ornament.
“I love you,” Derek remarked. Stiles smiled warmly, turning his head, his eyes closing as Derek kissed him.
thank you, guys.
I am about to start working on my next AU, which is a His Dark Materials fusion... so be on the look out!! :)