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“He’s staring again,” Scott told him, sitting down across the table from him.

Stiles whipped his head around, his eyes immediately finding the bitch face to beat all bitch faces. His mouth was full of food when he gaped, but he didn’t care. Because Derek Hale was not staring but glaring at him. Again.

It had been happening a lot lately. Ever since that first time a couple of months ago, where Stiles had been talking, probably more likely yelling, about something at Scott, his arms moving widely around, and he had accidentally slapped Derek. In the face. He had slapped the former basketball star in the face, and he was pretty sure he was about to be killed.

But Derek had just ignored his apology, had bend down to pick something he dropped up, and had left with a laughing Erica at his side, not a word said.

And now there Stiles was, being glared at by Derek from across the cafeteria, and he felt the sudden need to pack his stuff and leave before he was killed, cause of death being the death glare directed at him.

He whipped back around, ducking down and quickly swallowing his food. “I’ve literally done nothing but sit here!” he whisper yelled at Scott, eyes wide.

Scott glanced over Stiles’ shoulder, over at where Derek was still glaring at them, despite his friends trying to rope him into their conversation. “Is he still pissed about the time you punched him in his face? I thought you apologized already.”

“I did!” Stiles shoveled more food into his mouth, wanting to be done eating so he could get out there. Because having Mr. Bitch Face glaring at him all through lunch was not how he wanted to spend his time before going to Harris’ class. “And he completely ignored it and just ran off right after.”

“Are you sure he heard you?” Scott picked up the sandwich he had gotten for himself. The crappy sandwich that probably tasted like shit.

“Well, no.” Stiles shrugged. “But… I’m kinda too scared to go apologize to him now?” He could see Scott biting back a laugh. “Hey, don’t judge me! He’s terrifying! And he keeps making that bitch face at me! You’d be scared too.”

“But I’m not the one who had a crush on him when he was the basketball star, and I’m not the one who went to every single one of his games,” Scott teased, a grin on his lips.

Stiles gaped at him. “You did not just say that. It’s not my fault he’s hot as hell! And I’d totally be all for making out with him, but too bad he hates me. For smacking him in his face, which I get. I’d be pretty pissed if someone slapped me too.”

“So even though you’re scared of him, you’d still date him?”

“No one said anything about dating, Scott.” Stiles grabbed his now empty tray and got up. “The hate make out and sex however? I’m all about it.”

Scott made a face. “Gross, I don’t wanna hear about that.”

“If I have to hear about how much you love Allison, you can take hearing about the hate sex I want to have with Bitch Face.” Stiles nudged Scott lightly as he passed him. “See you in class, buddy.”

Before leaving the cafeteria, he turned around and looked over at Derek, just to see if he was still glaring at him. Derek was still very much glaring in his direction, eyes squinted and nearly shut, but he was talking with his friends. Erica Reyes and Isaac Lahey were doing their best to bite back their laughter, and Vernon Boyd just looked amused.

Derek said something that made all three of them look over at Stiles, and Stiles rushed out of there.


The library was quiet. There were no upcoming tests or exams, so no one really bothered spending time there. It made focusing on the chemistry homework a lot easier for Stiles, especially since he could spread himself out at the otherwise empty table without being yelled at for taking up too much space.

Scott’s bike broke a few days ago, so Stiles had given him a lift to and from school every day. Usually they were off at the same time, but Scott had taken advanced biology, so he had an extra class on Thursdays. Meaning Stiles had to wait for him to be done. Which was the only reason he was sitting in the library, speeding through his homework.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there, pen in mouth and focus on the textbook in his lap, but he was halfway through doing his homework, when a bag was dropped onto the table and a chair scraped against the floor. Stiles looked up and immediately gaped, the pen dropping against the book.

Because Derek Hale was sitting down to his left on the other side of the table, bitch face already on and glare directed at him. Again.

Stiles was aware that he was staring and gaping at the guy who hated him, he was well aware of it. He only slammed his mouth shut after Derek had sat down and opened up a book, but he didn’t look away. “Do you… You want me to move?” he asked slowly and carefully, already getting ready to pack his things and leave.

“No,” Derek grunted. He kept his squinting eyes on Stiles for another moment, before he snapped them down to the opened book in front of him.

It wasn’t even a school book, Stiles noticed. It was just a book. Who used the school library to read books?

If it wasn’t because Derek hated him and would probably beat the shit out of him, Stiles would have laughed and called him a nerd. Fondly, of course.

Instead he took in a deep breath and tried to focus on finishing his homework before Scott was done with class.

Focusing turned out to be very difficult, because he could feel Derek’s death glare on him every two minutes, and it was very distracting. The first time he felt himself being stared at, he looked up and found Derek making a bitch face at him, so he quickly looked back down, praying for time to move faster.

The 20 minutes they sat there, Stiles didn’t get much further with his homework, too busy trying to calm his heart down and biting his tongue so he wouldn’t say something stupid that would get him beat up. The time moved slowly, the silence was deafening, and Stiles nearly jumped out of his seat when his phone vibrated on the table.

He missed the way Derek snickered at him, missed the way Derek was for once not glaring at him. Stiles looked at the text from Scott once, and then he was up and throwing his things into his bag.

And he was practically running out of there the second he had closed his bag, heartbeat loud in his red ears.

“Oh my God, Scott!” Stiles practically threw himself at Scott when he reached him in the parking lot. “You won’t believe who was sitting with me in the library!”

“Uh, Derek Hale?” Scott wasn’t looking at him. He was looking over his shoulder, so Stiles turned around, following his gaze.

Derek was coming out of the library and onto the parking lot, bag hooked over his shoulder and his eyes scanning the parking lot. Stiles was sure the guy had looked at him and Scott, but there was no glare. Instead his face looked soft and there was a smile on his face when Boyd walked over and threw an arm around his shoulders.

Stiles had known Derek - or more like been aware of his presence and secretly wanting to make out with him - for over a year, and he had only seen him smile a handful of times.

There was the time where Derek had scored the winning shot of a basketball game and everyone around Stiles had stood up and cheered loudly. Stiles had shamelessly done the same.

There was the time in the hallway just after summer break, where Derek had seen Isaac for the first time after Isaac had been in France all summer. (Stiles only knew this because he had heard it from Allison who knew Isaac, he wasn’t a stalker.)

And there was the time where Stiles had seen him on the phone with his mom after getting A+ on his history paper.

That last one had stuck with Stiles for weeks, because Derek Hale, the former basketball star, was a mama’s boy.

But since Stiles had smacked Derek in the face, he hadn’t really seen him smile. Maybe because every time he saw him, Derek was glaring at him, bitch face turned to level 50.

So when he saw Derek smile so warmly at Boyd, he couldn’t help but get a little weak in the knees.

Scott nudged him out of his gaping trance. Not because he had been staring for too long, but because Derek and Boyd were coming their way and it was only a matter of seconds before they would see them.

So Stiles grabbed Scott’s arm and quickly got into the jeep.

He drove off just as Derek looked up and there were those squinting eyes again, bitch face level 65.


Stiles sighed and leaned heavily against the locker next to Lydia’s open one. “Do you think Harris will put me in detention if I skip his class?” he wondered, eyes on the ceiling.

“I think he’s going to put you in detention no matter what you do,” Lydia responded, looking over at him with her brows raised. “He hates you.”

Stiles groaned and slammed his head against the locker he was leaning against. “I know. Which, honestly, is a bit unfair, ‘cause I didn’t do anything to him!”

“You were mouthing off at him on the first day and every day ever since.”

He paused, pursing his lips. “Okay, I did do that. But in my defense, he was being an asshole and he deserved it.”

Lydia huffed and shook her head. She glanced down the hallway, then grinned and pushed lightly at Stiles. “The star is staring at you again.”

“What?” Stiles gave Lydia one confused look, before he followed her eyes and looked down the hallway, his eyes quickly finding Derek staring- no, glaring at him again, his eyes narrow slits.

Stiles stared back for a moment, Derek’s face didn’t change one bit, and then he turned back to Lydia, groaning. “Why does he hate me, Lydia? I mean, I smacked him in the face once. Once!” He whined, leaning against the locker. “And he’s so hot and pretty and if he didn’t hate me, I’d definitely do all kinds of stuff to and with him.”

Lydia closed her locker, giving him a look. “I really don’t think he hates you, Stiles.” She started walking down the hallway toward class, and Stiles followed.

He cast Derek another look, and he saw Erica lean over and whisper something in his ear that made Derek’s cheeks flush and his eyes widen.

Stiles nearly tripped over his own feet, because a blushing Derek Hale? Yeah, he could get used to seeing that.

It was a lot better than see him so angry all the time.


“Stop taking my food!” Stiles slapped Scott’s hand away from his tray, before he shoveled another mouthful into his mouth. “Just because you finished your own food so quickly, doesn’t mean you get to steal mine. If you’re gonna steal anyone’s food, steal your girlfriend’s.”

“But she needs her food,” Scott said, like that was a good enough reason.

Stiles made a face at him, mouth too full to say anything that would be audible and would only result in food falling out of his mouth.

“Here, take my apple.” Danny handed Scott his apple, a smile on his face that was outshined by Scott’s beaming one.

Stiles rolled his eyes, groaned at the two, and opened his mouth to complain at them now that his mouth wasn’t as full. Except his attention was pulled elsewhere when he saw Isaac Lahey walk by their table, an apple in hand and a grin on his face.

Stiles turned when Isaac continued behind him. His eyes followed him until they caught Derek sitting a few tables away from him. Derek was for once not glaring at him, his focus on Isaac.

Stiles watched as Isaac threw the apple to Derek, watched as Derek reached out to catch it but somehow missed it by a lot.

Derek Hale, the former basketball star, couldn’t catch an apple.

He felt almost bad about the laugh he had to bite back, if it wasn’t for Erica bursting out into a fit of laughter that caught the rest of the tables’ attention. Derek’s ears turned pink, and he pouted, his bottom lip pushing out.

It was cute, and Stiles couldn’t look away. Not even when Scott nudged at him and Danny made a comment.

It was cute, but it had him wondering. Did Derek suddenly forget how to catch things? Was that why he quit basketball?


“Shit, shit, shit, shit!”

Stiles was late, really late. So late that his rushing footsteps echoed down the empty hallways. He hadn’t meant to oversleep, usually didn’t. But his dad had spend the night at the station, and his alarm hadn’t gone off, so he had woken up in a panic and had rushed out of the house looking like he had just rolled out of bed.

Which was exactly what he had.

He wasn’t really looking where he was running, wasn’t really looking ahead of him. So he didn’t see the door to the boys’ bathroom swinging open, nor did he see the guy walking out, and he ran straight into him.

“Oh my God!” Something hit the ground between them, and Stiles stumbled back a little, finding his footing. He opened his mouth to apologize, only to keep his mouth open in a gape.

He had crashed into Derek. Derek who was now squinting his eyes at him again. Although he didn’t look particularly angry, just confused.

“I- I’m so sorry!” Stiles rushed to say. His whole face suddenly felt hot, and he carefully took a step back. Derek wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at the ground, the tips of his ears pink, and his lips were shut tight.

Curious, Stiles followed his eyes to the ground. To the ground where a pair of thick rimmed glasses laid spread out. He stared down at them for a moment, then he bend down, picked them up, and handed them to Derek. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

Derek’s cheeks held a shade of pink as he reached out to grab the glasses from Stiles, his shoulders jumping up in a quick shrug. “I don’t really wear them often.”

Stiles had always been curious, never knew when to shut up and move on. And he liked Derek. Sure, the guy terrified him, but he still liked him, so he couldn’t help but ask. “Is that why you quit basketball? ‘Cause you need glasses?”

Derek finally lifted his head and looked back at Stiles. Stiles had never seen his face this close and… well, he was a bit taken aback, because Derek was beautiful. His eyes were still squinting, but it wasn’t in a glare. Probably never had been, now that Stiles thought about it. The guy just had terrible vision.

“Yeah,” Derek admitted with a quick nod. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then he continued. “I used to wear contacts. A lot. But my eyes got tired of them, so I had to switch over to glasses.” His head dropped a little along with his gaze. “And had to quit basketball.”

Stiles had to fight back the smile trying to pull his lips back. Because this was the most Derek had ever talked to him. Not that they had ever had a proper conversation before, but it counted. “I’m sorry.”

Derek shrugged, fidgeting with the glasses in his hands. “I was going to quit anyway. The other players are assholes.”

Stiles couldn’t help it. The laugh just burst out of him before he could stop it. But it made Derek smile just a little, so Stiles was okay with it. He quickly calmed down though, curiosity overtaking him. “You don’t always wear them though. Why?”

Derek went quit, and he lifted his head, his eyes wandering. He shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, now you have to tell me. I know we don’t really know each other, but if you don’t tell me, it’ll be all I can think about for the rest of my life. I’m very curious.”

There was a slight frown on Derek’s face, and he mumbled something Stiles didn’t pick up. “Yeah, you’re gonna have to speak up, Derek.”

Derek took in a deep breath, his cheeks going a darker shade of pink and his ears turning red. “I said,” he started, eyes off to the right, “I don’t wear them often, because… because I want you to think I look good.”

Stiles bit back a laugh, his own cheeks suddenly hot. He stepped closer, a grin on his lips, and he reached out to take the glasses from Derek. He tapped his chin lightly, making him look up, and he carefully put the glasses on Derek, the grin turning to a smile as he admired the sight in front of him.

Derek was hot without the glasses, yes. He was incredibly hot, and Stiles would love to do all kinds of stuff to and with him, anywhere and everywhere. The glasses didn’t change that, because glasses suited Derek.

Stiles bit his bottom lip, eyes locked with Derek’s now focused ones. “You’re hot with and without glasses,” he said, moving closer until they were barely apart, and letting the grin return. “Nerd.”

Derek’s eyes flickered down to Stiles’ lips for a moment, and Stiles pushed away the hesitation, leaning forward to capture Derek’s lips with his own. Derek breathed in deeply, but Stiles felt him kissing back almost immediately. 

Stiles wasn’t sure how long he stood there, kissing Derek, but somewhere along the way, he ended up with Derek pressed against the wall, hands exploring bodies, lips and tongues moving together, and the class he was rushing to long forgotten.

He wasn’t sure how long they were making out, but he was certain they definitely would have continued if they hadn’t been interrupted by Finstock.

“Stilinski! Hale! No making out in the hallway!”