“Stiles you have to go.”
“I told you, no.”
“Oh come on,” Lydia sighed. “I know for a fact you like playing festivals and the band will get great publicity. Not to mention we agreed to go months ago and we will be sued if we don’t show up.”
Stiles groaned loudly and looked towards Scott and Allison for moral support. They wore identical apologetic expressions, so Stiles knew what they were going to say before they spoke.
“Sorry man,” Scott said sheepishly, “I’m with Lydia on this one, it’s the first festival of the summer season and we need to drum up a little excitement before we drop any new songs.”
“And you like Twin Moons,” Allison added. “You said literally like last week that it was your favorite music festival.”
“Yeah well that was before I knew the Halefire jackass squad was coming,” Stiles shot back, glowering at the room full of apparent traitors. “My terrible manager didn’t inform me until today.”
Lydia sighed with the exasperation of the over worked nanny of a very bratty child, “Like I’ve told you, I didn’t know they were coming until literally forty minutes ago, there was a last minute cancellation and Halefire was available, so can we please stop acting like the issue here is a slight change in schedule?”
There was an uncomfortable silence in the bus. Scott and Allison glanced at each other nervously. Stiles hadn’t really understood the term ‘elephant in the room’ until a couple months ago, now it felt like every damn day had a conversation made incredibly awkward by the looming presence of that motherfucking elephant. In the back of his mind he realized the continued refusal was just going to make things more awkward, but the idea of being in the same city as Derek Hale, let alone on the same stage not twenty minutes after, made Stiles want to jump from the moving bus.
“If you flake out on me right now, we will all be sued,” Lydia repeated. “I will be fired, never find work again, and live on the streets. Do you want to be the one responsible for me living in a refrigerator box, Stiles?”
“Ok, so maybe it won’t be that dramatic,” Alison cut in, “but what Lydia is trying to say, is that this is a really bad time for you to take a stand and you would really be letting us all down.”
“And it’s been, what, two months?” Scott added. “More? Don’t you think that’s long enough that you can be at the same event as the guy?”
Somewhere, deep down, Stiles knew his friends were right, but he still wasn’t happy about it. He figured that if he could avoid seeing any members of Halefire the entire weekend, he might not die before Monday. Sure, Derek was a huge dick and the worst person on the entire planet, but Indigo Pack was doing great, the fan base was only growing and a shit ton of hot girls wanted to get in Stiles’ pants. He had literally everything going for him right now. He didn’t need that dick bag. Fuck Derek Hale.
“Fine,” Stiles grumbled. “I’ll go. But that doesn’t mean I wont complain the entire time.”
“Is that different than usual?” Kira yelled from the back of the bus.
“Eavesdropping is rude!” Stiles shouted back. He looked at Scott. “I’m not okay with this, and I hate you all.”
“Atta boy” Scott said, slapping him on the back. “This is going to be fun; we won’t even have to see them.”
“What do you mean we have to do a press conference together?” Derek demanded. “You said that if I agreed to come today, there would be no contact.”
“I’m sorry!” Jackson said, looking not even remotely sorry. “I thought you wouldn’t have to, but the press is really eating up the feud you’ve got going on with Indigo Pack and I couldn’t pass up that publicity.”
“Oh and this has nothing to do with all the time you’ll be spending behind the scenes with Lydia?” Derek said accusingly.
Jackson smiled. “Now you’re getting it.”
“I’m not putting on some show for the media so you can secretly meet up with your girlfriend,” Derek grumbled. “Just call her like a normal fucking person.”
“Please, you know this is going to be really good for the band,” Jackson said. “If you two can express even a shadow of the pent up hatred you have for each other on camera, people will talk about this for weeks. From a PR perspective, this is a total win. It’s exactly the press we need to promote the new single.”
“You are a terrible person,” Derek responded.
Derek wanted to storm off, but they were in a hotel room and there really wasn’t anywhere for him to go, so he went and locked himself in the bathroom. He could hear Erica and Jackson arguing outside about some outfit change that she didn’t approve of so he probably had a solid fifteen minutes before Jackson or anyone else would come and bother him. He would rather shave off his eyebrows than talk to Stiles on camera, they hadn’t so much as texted in almost three months and Derek sure as hell didn’t feel the need to talk to him anytime soon.
Derek sat down on the edge of the bathtub and flipped through his twitter, it was littered with notifications from fans tweeting about the band, people with usernames like therealmrshale and halefireforlife. God Derek never thought he would be the kind of guy with a fan base. He felt super cheesy even saying the words ‘fans’. Sure, he loved his job, but he never really got used to people recognizing him in public or making him sign their posters or face or baby or something. Being a musician was cool; being a public figure was a lot less cool. Boyd, Isaac, and Erica loved doing meet and greets and all that, but Derek was known as somewhat of a recluse, because every time he did leave his apartment, everyone wanted a picture with Derek Hale. The public, of course, loved that he was so private. It let people speculate wildly on the details of his personal life. It seemed there was an article out every week on what he was doing or who he was dating, though they were practically never even remotely accurate. The press called him mysterious and brooding, which he supposed made a better headline than ‘socially awkward’ would have.
“Hey Derek,” Erica shouted through the door. “Open the door. I need the mirror.”
“There’s like two other bathrooms in the suite,” Derek replied. “And you have your own room.”
“Yeah but all my stuff’s in here,” Erica insisted. “Open up.”
Derek sighed in resignation and opened the door.
“Thank you,” Erica said, walking to the counter to put on her makeup. Blood red lipstick had become kind of Erica’s trademark over the years. She claimed it gave her luck, so she wore it in every show. MAC had named a color after her, and had run an ad campaign featuring Erica with leather and stilettos holding large knives and looking threatening. Not that Erica needed knives to look threatening. Even wearing pajamas and holding a puppy, she had a certain severity to her face that made her not someone you’d want to meet in a dark alley.
“You aren’t really going to lock yourself in the bathroom and miss the press conference, are you?” Erica asked. “Because that would be a total dick move.”
“Do we even need press?” Derek countered. “We’re already popular.”
“Popular is one step away from irrelevance,” Erica replied nonchalantly. “It’s been almost a year since our last album came out and the hype is dying down.”
“Like four songs from the album are still getting radio play on a bunch of indie stations and ‘Kind of Mine’ played on that top pop hits station all last week,” Derek responded.
“Well I didn’t say the hype is dead, I said it’s dying,” Erica huffed. “And Indigo Pack has five songs on Alt Rock top 25.”
Derek scowled. “I thought we agreed not to mention them.”
“Dude, we’ve been tiptoeing around this for months,” Erica said. “It’s time to get over it and face the facts. You can’t spend your whole life avoiding Stilinski, okay? We need press, and this little meeting will get us that. All you have to do is smile for the camera and make a few suggestive statements about hating Indigo Pack or whatever. It will take fifteen minutes and then you can hide in your apartment for a month.”
Derek sighed and left the bathroom to find Jackson. He was on the phone, but hung up when he saw Derek. “So?”
“You owe me,” Derek said, “but I’ll do it.”
“I know,” Jackson agreed. “I already released that you would.”
“Of course you did,” Derek sighed. “Hey, how did Lydia get Stiles to agree to this?”
Jackson grinned wickedly. “She didn’t exactly.”
It was honestly hard to stay mad at Scott and Allison for too long. Scott did have the large, innocent eyes of a baby cow and watching them fail miserably at trying to throw grapes into each others mouths was unfortunately very endearing. He had been watching them do nothing but be delightful for like two hours and it was honestly becoming unbearable. Scott and Allison were one of the cutest couples Stiles had ever known. Both of them were annoyingly good people with hearts of gold and did, in fact, combine to make a literal ray of sunshine anytime they were around each other. Scott and Allison were both so unbearably pleasant that it really put a damper on Stiles commitment to sulking. He looked out the window at the flawless weather and then back at Scott and Allison, who were exchanging dimpled smiles and holding hands, and went to go sit with Liam and Kira, who were playing a highly competitive game of boggle in the back of the bus.
“How much longer until we get there?” Stiles asked, slumping onto the bench next to Kira.
“Maps says five minutes,” Kira replied, staring at the boggle cube. “Um… ‘rat.’”
“Yeah but there’s traffic, so probably more,” Liam commented. “Oh! I found ‘baby!’”
Kira scowled down at the letters. “How would you know you can’t even drive.”
“You still don’t have your license?” Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s been what, a year?”
“I’ve spent the last year doing this shit with all of you,” Liam replied with a shrug. “I don’t have any time to go to the DMV. So we don’t need to bring it up twice a day like it’s a personal failure.”
“I’ve got ‘cats,’” Kira announced. Liam cursed under his breath.
“The rest of us managed,” Stiles pointed out.
“Yeah but you were all sixteen way before She Likes the Thrill got popular,” Liam said. “I doubt it would have been an issue for any of you to learn to drive while we were still playing in bars… um… ‘rard.’”
“‘Rard’ is not a word, Liam,” Kira said. “You can’t make up words when you’re losing.”
“It’s a word,” Liam shot back.
Kira smirked. “Oh really? What does it mean?”
“A rard is a… plant that grows in… Australia,” Liam said vaguely.
“Nice try, buddy,” Kira said.
“A valiant effort,” Stiles added.
The bus slowed rapidly and turned, causing Stiles to stumble forward into the bench. He looked out the window to see they were entering the festival grounds, the outside was littered with teens wearing flower crowns and leather backpacks and probably smoking lots of weed. Man, Stiles loved festivals. Liam, Kira, and Stiles made their way back up to the front of the bus to get their schedule from Lydia.
“Alright guys, we’re running a little late so we didn’t have time to stop and check in at the hotel. You guys can change into one of the outfits I have already approved, I’m looking at you Liam, and we’re going to head over to a short press conference. It starts in like fifteen so let’s go.” She said, spinning on her heels and walking out of the bus
“Wait, what press conference?” Stiles asked as literally everyone ignored him. “No one told me about a press conference.”
“If you don’t get dressed now Lydia’s going to be super pissed.” Allison responded, rummaging through her bag
“Ok, but since when are we doing a press conference? Scott did you know about this?” Stiles asked again
“What?” Scott shouted back as though he hadn’t heard the question, even though he was standing three feet away.
Stiles pulled on a shirt he was pretty sure Lydia liked and fixed his hair. He was 99% sure he would have remembered a press conference being mentioned. Sure he wasn’t the most organized guy, but he had been sulking alone with his thoughts for like two hours and Stiles felt like he would have realized.
The band exited the bus with two of their security guards in case they were spontaneously ambushed by an aggressive group of fans, but every seemed to keep their distance. A girl screamed that she loved him but didn’t try and approach, so that was a plus. They made their way towards a large stage with way more people than Stiles was expecting gathered out front
“Dude, what is this panel on?” Stiles asked. “There are like three hundred people out there, are we dropping an album or something? Are you an Allison fake breaking up again?”
Scott laughed “No way are we doing that again.”
Stiles spotted Jackson pushing through the crowd to talk to Lydia.
“Hey we’re all good on my end, have you dropped the bomb on doucheface yet?” Jackson said.
“What the fuck,” Stiles shouted.
Lydia pulled him aside. “So here’s the deal. I may have agreed to do a press conference with Halefire regarding your feud.”
“Yep it’s starting now have fun, make me proud!” she said shoving him onto the stage
And suddenly the air was filled with the high pitched screams of tons of fans.
Despite Derek’s best efforts and thorough mental preparation, his heart dropped into his stomach when he saw Stiles, looking murderous and scowling aggressively. Stiles glanced over to Derek and they locked eyes for a moment. Derek could see Stiles eyes going wide with something like fear, but he looked away too quickly for Derek to really get a vibe from him. Whatever. Stiles could go fuck himself honestly. Derek took a seat next to Erica at the table on the right side of the stage, Indigo Pack sat at an identical table on the left.
Derek vaguely recognized that an announcer had started speaking, telling everyone a little about the band and the controversy and their twitter feud or whatever. In the past month, other band members had given statements regarding the origin of the feud, lying about song stealing or contracts or just general dislike. Derek had been declining to comment so far, but he guessed this panel was Jackson’s twisted way of forcing him to talk about it. After the brief introduction, the moderator opened up to questions from the audience.
A blond reporter in the second row was the first to ask a question. “So Kira, you’ve always been really honest with your fans: tell us in your words how this rivalry started.”
“Well there’s always been a bit of competition between Indigo Pack and Halefire because we occupy a similar niche in the music industry. Our music is constantly compared, so I think it’s only natural that there would be friction,” Kira answered smoothly.
“Yes but you guys really only started going at each other in the past few months,” a tall man near the back shouted. “There must have been something that set you off.”
Kira shot a quick, but unmistakable, glance at Stiles. “Well… I guess it was… not anything in particular. Or I don’t know exactly what happened. It wasn’t a really… sudden thing.”
“But it was sudden,” a woman in a baseball cap countered. “Just a few months ago you were seen hanging out together, there were even rumors about touring with each other. What happened since then?”
A man in a polo shirt shouted over her “Stiles, you’re notoriously a ladies man, were you ever worried about competition for your position as the hot bachelor of the tour?”
Derek clenched his jaw.
Stiles laughed a little awkwardly, “Oh man, I never had anything to worry about, never any real competition there. I do just fine, if you know what I mean. And you guys have to remember, I am dating my amazing talented manager Lydia Martin.”
There was a small chorus of “aww” from the crowd and Derek rolled his eyes.
The woman in the baseball hat shouted again, “If not that, then why did the feud start?”
“Let’s hear from someone from Halefire to see if we can get a clearer picture,” a reporter interjected. “Isaac, what’s your version of the story?”
Erica gave great answers on camera, Boyd could always be trusted to give vague, nondescript answers that revealed nothing, but the moment Isaac was called on, Derek knew they were fucked.
“Oh, I, um, think it… is music related,” Isaac stuttered, visibly sweating. “It is maybe also… not music related? As in both related and at the same time not related to music. Um… yeah.”
“You say the conflict is partially ‘not music related’, can you elaborate on that?” the same reporter continued.
“Um, I guess so,” Isaac said reluctantly. “I just feel like there was a, um, a certain level of… disrespect? I guess? Yeah there was disrespect and… meanness coming from certain members of the um… other guys. Indigo Pack.”
“Which certain members?”
Isaac looked around in a panic. “I actually don’t know all the details, but it may or may not have possibly, maybe have been… potentially Stiles?”
The crowd erupted in murmurs.
“Excuse you?” Stiles said.
Derek groaned internally. ‘Here we go,’ he thought.
“I think I know what Isaac is referring to, Halefire was being exceptionally selfish and wasn’t respecting the needs of Indigo Pack regarding the, um, tour, despite the clear arrangements that had already been made,” Stiles continued.
That was it. Now Stiles was just asking for it.
“I actually think what Isaac was talking about was that Indigo Pack was acting like children and only considering their needs, and Halefire was fed up with their bullshit.” Derek retorted sharply, glaring at Stiles, who looked like he was going to burst into flames.
Stiles stood up, as Scott tried to yank him back into his seat by his shirt sleeve. “Hmm, let me think… oh right, no! That’s not what happened. The real problem was that Halefire was acting really immature and stubborn and refusing to see the big picture. About any collaboration between the two bands, that is.”
“I think what Stiles is trying to say is that there were some creative differences that we just couldn’t reconcile,” Allison interrupted.
“Or should we say, Halefire wouldn’t reconcile these, shall we say, creative differences,” Stiles added.
Derek took a deep breath. “Yeah, you see, Halefire values integrity and authenticity, and that’s something we really couldn’t compromise on.”
“Oh, really?” Stiles said. “Well Indigo Pack couldn’t compromise on Halefire’s boring music and terrible faces. So why don’t you-”
“Alright, it’s been so great talking to you all,” Scott interrupted, smiling through his teeth. “We’re all really excited to play an awesome show for you guys! See you all tomorrow at eight on the Toyota Stage!”
“And we’ll see you at seven! Thanks guys!” Boyd said, waving.
Derek smirked as Scott, still smiling, dragged Stiles off the stage.
“Fuck that guy!” Stiles hissed to Scott and a clearly startled Liam when they got back stage.
Lydia appeared from behind them. “That was spectacular. Everything I hoped for and more.”
“Lydia, did you watch the press conference?” Kira asked incredulously. “That was a disaster.”
“Um, yeah. It was exactly the shit show I was planning on,” Lydia answered. “Do you honestly think people care about information about the band? This is entertainment, not the evening news. People want to see a spectacle. Which, thanks to Stiles’ little outburst, is exactly what they got.”
“You’re a dick, Lydia,” Stiles shot back.
“Is that how you want to talk to your fake girlfriend?” Lydia responded, raising an eyebrow. “I could break up with you and let the media get on your back about that again.”
Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah let’s pretend you weren’t just having a quickie with Jackson Whittemore in the bus.”
“Was not,” Lydia retorted.
“Oh really? Your skirt’s on backward.”
Lydia looked down quickly and Stiles laughed. “Wow, I was joking, but the fact that you had to check is confirmation enough.”
“Oh shut up,” Lydia said. “You guys are all checked in to the hotel, let’s go.”
Stiles cursed the entire way onto the bus and the entire ride to the hotel. Scott gave him a couple supportive pats on the back, which he appreciated, but he really wasn’t in the mood for company. He logged on to Twitter to find that #stilesvsderek was trending. To some degree, it was cool that they were trending – Lydia was right; the publicity was good for the band – but Stiles was mostly still annoyed that he was tricked into seeing his nemesis by surprise. He scrolled through the tag searching for #teamstiles tweets to reaffirm his beliefs that he was right and Derek was a huge bag of dicks. Honestly the split seemed to be about fifty-fifty. He threw his phone down and continued to curse, now with much more volume and enthusiasm. They pulled into the back of the hotel, to the space where the bus could unload. The bus slowed to a stop, but the doors stayed shut.
“Alright what’s the hold up.” Stiles grumbled, craning his neck to see why they would be keeping them inside a stopped bus. In front of them was another bus, it was black and it read-
“NO,” Stiles shouted. “NO NO NO.”
“What’s the matter dude,” Scott, said, looking concerned. He saw what Stiles was staring at. “Oh…no…”
It was the Halefire tour bus.
“You know what?” Stiles asked, still talking was louder than was appropriate. “I’m glad they’re here! Yep! I can go tell Douche-rek Hale what I think of the cute little stunt he pulled today at the press conference. I’ll tell that asshole where he can go stick his ‘creative differences.’”
“Please don’t,” Scott said weakly. “This isn’t good for you.”
“What’s not good for me is that I’m still on this GOD DAMN BUS when I could be punching Derek in his stupid face,” Stiles shouted.
The bus doors screeched open.
“Fucking finally!” Stiles said, ignoring Scott’s half hearted grabs at his arms, and following the Hale entourage into the hotel. He couldn’t see Derek, or any members of Halefire for that matter, so he scanned the lobby for someone in Derek’s entourage who looked young and easily manipulated.
“Hey man,” Stiles said to a nervous looking teenager carrying a clipboard. “What room is Derek Hale in? I have to give him something.”
The intern’s eyes went wide “You’re-”
“I sure am, bucko, now what’s the room number” He snapped back.
“I don’t think I’m really allowed-,” The intern stammered
“Here,” Stiles said, shoving some money into the kid’s clammy palm. “Tell me the room number.”
“This… This is a five-dollar bill and an expired coupon, sir.”
“I don’t carry a lot of cash, just tell me!” Stiles repeated.
“I think Derek is in 326, the rest of the band is out though, so he might be meeting up with them or-”
Stiles pushed past him and stormed over to the elevator, jamming the elevator button repetitively until the doors opened.
Who did Derek Hale think he was honestly? Stiles was really done with him this time. After today, he was probably never going to talk to him again, he thought bitterly as he scanned the doors for room 326. There. He began knocking as loudly and obnoxiously as he could until the door swung open.
“What’s happening?” Derek said, he looked at Stiles dumbfounded. “What are you doing here Stiles?”
“More like what were you doing at that press conference.” Stiles hissed, pushing into his room and pulling the door closed behind him. “We stopped, you know, hanging out like three months ago. You can’t just go slamming me in the press talking about how I’m selfish or whatever. You are such an asshole really, where the fuck do you get off?”
“Me?” Derek asked defensively. “You’re the one who lost it first, not me, not to mention I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. You are self involved and you do lack integrity and you are fake.”
Stiles scoffed. “Oh my god, do you even hear yourself? You are so insufferably whiny and bossy. If you could just mind your own fucking business-”
“Oh alright,” Derek interrupted sarcastically. “Because my personal life isn’t my own business, no one can know I’m gay because it’s not my business.”
Stiles turned away.
“Oh I’m sorry I forgot that we aren’t ‘allowed’ to say that word. Gay gay gay. I am gay, I don’t even care anymore it doesn’t affect you. It never affected you.”
“Yeah, but it would affect me. We were together a lot; I couldn’t hang out with you anymore without people getting ideas or butting into my life. So yeah, then your sexual preferences aren’t just your business, Derek.”
“Come on; nobody was trying to out you, asshole.” Derek crossed his arms angrily. “Just because you’re too afraid to tell people you like a certain quality in the people you date, namely the quality of being male, doesn’t mean I should have to stay closeted until I die. And you don’t get to be all hurt because I don’t want to spend my whole life having sex in the back of cars with some guy who won’t stand close to me in public.”
“I can’t come out now, we just started getting popular. I would let down the whole band.”
“Oh please,” Derek rolled his eyes “Your friends would love you to come out, don’t act like Scott wouldn’t throw you a rainbow themed blowout and call you an inspiration or something.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be an inspiration, I just want to make music and have the press stay out of my sex life.” Stiles said
“What a cliché”
“Oh well fuck you very much,” Stiles said, shoving him backwards
“Wouldn’t you like that,” Derek said sarcastically, leaning in until he was just inches from Stiles’ face
The sudden proximity made Stiles too preoccupied to come up with anything especially witty. Stiles could smell Derek’s cologne; it was a familiar scent that made him feel nostalgic, kind of sad, and most of all very horny. He tried to avoid looking at Derek’s lips but failed dramatically, eyes running over every crease and edge and dip, the air between them felt electrically charged.
Although he would deny it if anyone asked, Stiles definitely kissed him first.
When Stiles was twelve, his doctor and dad put him on this experimental no gluten, no refined sugars diet to see if it would help with his hyperactivity. This diet lasted for about six weeks, and man, it was strict. Scott was totally on board too, so Stiles couldn’t even so much as get near a whole grain bread roll, let alone have anything delicious. After six weeks of what was essentially torture, the doctor decided to take him off the diet and try some new behavioral therapy instead, so Stiles’ dad took him out to milkshakes and chocolate cake to celebrate. The first bite tasted like Jesus Christ himself had blessed Stiles and he had transcended into a new realm of bliss.
This felt like just like that moment. Only ten times better and about one thousand time hotter
He moved his hands over every familiar curve and muscle in Derek’s back, drew his hands across his chest and down his hips. Stiles was trying to work through how he was going to play this cool, pretend he hadn’t been jacking off to the thought of this for months. Derek’s lips moved from his mouth and down his neck, Stiles exhaled sharply as Derek grazed his teeth along Stiles’ collarbone. A small part of his mind said ‘don’t do this Stiles, this is a bad idea’ but that was almost completely tuned out by the rest of his mind, which was just a chorus of ‘yes yes yes yes.’ His dick was also rock hard against his jeans so that pretty much sealed the deal. Derek pushed him down onto the bed and began to rock down against him, and fuck, cause that felt awesome. He was really into that. Maybe a little too into that actually.
“Dude, slow down or I’m going to come in my pants,” Stiles breathed, pushing him off a little.
Derek just grinned. “So much for stamina.”
“Oh fuck off,” Stiles said, flipping Derek down and climbing on top of him.
He pulled off Derek’s shirt and his own, and kissed and mouthed his way down Derek’s ridiculous six pack. He could feel Derek’s heartbeat beneath his lips. Stiles bring his hand down to Derek’s button and zipper and yanks off his jeans and boxers
His dick is hard and slick at the tip, Derek groaned when Stiles got his hand around it. Stiles really wanted to suck his dick. It would look super desperate, but he decided to just go with it.
Stiles probably should have been acting a little more composed, given the nature of the situation, but god damn he was horny as fuck and honestly not going to last much longer so he had to get Derek there too or that was going to be hella embarrassing.
Derek smirked at him as Stiles wrapped his lips around his dick. Fuck him, he hollowed his cheeks in a particularly hard suck, making Derek groan loudly. Who’s laughing now? Stiles moved his tongue up the underside of his dick and tries every stellar blowjob trick he knows. He knew pretty much all of Derek’s tells and preferences, so it wasn’t hard to get him into it. Stiles used his free hand to unbutton his own pants. He started grinding up against the bed slightly, and yeah, that felt good. Derek started moaning softly, low in his throat, which meant he was close, which was good, because Stiles maybe had another minute left in him.
He climbed off of Derek, who then promptly flipped him onto his back, getting both of their dicks into his hand and jerking them together. Stiles moaned loudly as he felt the heat pooling low in his stomach. When he came, he actually may have died a little bit inside and gone to heaven, because shit, that was amazing.
They both lay there for a couple seconds, a little light-headed, before the waves of bad decision hit him. Stiles clenched and unclenched his jaw. Shit. What did he just do? He sat up and re buttoned his pants and grabbed his shirt off the floor.
“So that was… fun,” Stiles said slowly, avoiding eye contact.
Derek grumbled and pulled his shirt back on.
“Hey.” Stiles grabbed his shoulder. “You know you can’t tell anyone about this, right?”
Derek rolled his eyes. “Of course that’s your first concern. Just go, Stiles.”
“Yep, on my way.” He yanked his shirt on over his head and slipped out of the room.
Scott was watching TV when Stiles finally walked in to their hotel room.
Scott looked over his shoulder. “Dude, where’ve you been?”
“Um, out,” Stiles said, taking off his coat.
“Out?” Scott scoffed. “It’s almost midnight: you’ve been ‘out’ for like four hours. What have you been doing”
Stiles shrugged. “Uh, not too much. I went to a bar. Had a few beers. Watched the game.”
“What game is on right now?” Scott asked.
“Ah, well, it wasn’t a game so much as youth gymnastics nationals, a replay actually. It was on earlier today.” Stiles admitted, sitting next to Scott on the couch. “Those children are tiny, but so strong.”
“And why were you watching children doing backflips in a bar by yourself all night?” Scott asked.
“You know, just wanted to clear my head,” Stiles said, looking up at the ceiling to see if there was maybe some more convincing bullshit he could throw at Scott.
Stiles leaned against the wall in what he hoped was a casual and non suspicious way. Scott narrowed his eyes suspiciously. They’d been best friends for fifteen years and Scott was really good at figuring out when Stiles was hiding something.
“You stormed off earlier to confront Derek, right?” Scott asked. Shit.
“Huh?” Stiles asked, suddenly very focused on the TV. “Oh right, yeah. He wasn’t in his room, actually.”
“Mhmm,” Scott responded skeptically. “Show me your neck.”
Stiles laughed. “What? What are you talking about?”
“Your collar is popped. You heard me.”
“No!” Stiles snapped. “What’s wrong with you, man? Its stylish! I’m trying out a new thing. Stop!”
Scott reached over and pulled Stiles’ shirt collar down, getting a short look at his neck before Stiles swatted his hands away. “Jesus Scott, what are you doing?”
“Stiles no!” Scott groaned. “Guess we know why you needed to clear your head with elaborate floor routines. Is Derek covered in hickies too, or was it more of a one-way arrangement?”
“Shut up, man,” Stiles shot back. “It’s not what you think.”
“Oh so you’re telling me you didn’t go find Derek in his hotel room, yell at him about the press conference, and then hook up with him?” Scott folded his arms. “Well? Did you?”
Stiles looked away. “No?”
“… So what if I did though? It was a one time moment of weakness; it won’t happen again.”
Scott groaned again loudly. “That’s bullshit, man. You know that’s not good for you.”
Stiles rolled his eyes. “Please, I’m fine. I don’t even really care about him. It’s whatever.”
Scott raised his eyebrows accusingly. “It’s ‘whatever’? You don’t even care?”
“Nah, man,” Stiles shrugged. “I’m fine. It’s not like I would ever go all crybaby over that asshole. I don’t care, never did.”
Scott looked a him incredulously. He walked over to his laptop and started typing.
“Hey what are you doing, man? Are you- oh come on, Scott. I don’t think we need that.” Stiles protested, walking over to him
“‘Totally fine’. Yeah right,” Scott muttered pulling up the video “‘Never cared’, my ass.”
“We don’t need to watch-” Stiles objected.
The video began. It pictured Stiles sitting in his pajamas with unwashed hair and puffy eyes, holding a guitar. He looked terrible, and Stiles knew for a fact that he had filmed this video on day three of no sleep, no shower, and no leaving the house and that he was drunk as fuck.
“This is a song I wrote for the new album,” Video Stiles croaked, drinking directly out of a bottle of vodka. “I hope you like it.”
“I am dropping down into the void
Life has lost its light and now I fall to the dark
I live out of convenience not spirit
Nothing means a god damn thing
You left a hole in me that all the life is spilling out of
And I know see the truth, that happiness is an illusion”
The singing and guitar stopped and as Video Stiles began weeping aggressively.
“I miss him so much,” Video Stiles wailed.
Stiles closed the laptop. “Ok. That’s enough; I get it.”
“Do you?” Scott asked. “Dude, you were a mess after that thing ended. Like seriously, I was concerned for your wellbeing. I don’t think any of our friends wants to see you like that again, especially me. You’re my best friend and I really don’t want you to go through that again.”
“Jesus, Scott,” Stiles said. “It’s not like I’m marrying him. We hooked up. That’s it.”
“Well I hope this is a one-time thing,” Scott said. “I mean, Derek seemed pretty firm on staying broken up unless you’re planning on coming out-”
“Nope,” Stiles interrupted. “We are not discussing that topic.”
“Come on Stiles, I think that this is something we should be able to talk about.” Scott pried further, which really wasn’t surprising, as Scott was always dying to talk about love and Stiles’ feelings.
“No, I would prefer to continue avoiding the subject, why mess with a good thing? Let’s just drop it.”
“Are you sure though?” Scott continued, looking concerned. “Because I don’t think all this secrecy and having sex with random people is healthy for you. You’ve only had one real relationship and look how that one ended for you. Look I love you man and I really want you to be happy and true to yourself.”
“Ok I don’t need a rainbow pride speech right now. I can address that eventually, but right now I have to focus on the band and my career.” Stiles said.
“Man, you’ve said that before and look where we are. I’m worried about you. Talk to me about stuff, I don’t care and I’m your best friend no matter what.”
“Alright, sappy,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll let you know when I want to braid your hair and talk about boys.”
Scott laughed. “I know you're kidding but I would definitely be down. Allison thinks I’m great at braiding. I can do french, waterfall, fishtail; I’m basically a professional. I’m going to be such a good dad.”
Stiles sighed. “I’m sure you will be, buddy. I’m going to bed.”
“And you can be a good dad too!” Scott said. “Through adoption or surrogacy!”
“Oh my god. Good night.”