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The Five Times Stiles Was Jealous and The One Time He Didn't Need to Be

Summary:

Stiles is jealous of the attention Derek is paying to Lydia.

Based off of an anonymous prompt on tumblr: "could you do a jealous stiles with a cute oblivious Derek?" Clearly, I adjusted it a little bit, though.

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The first time Stiles felt jealousy related to Derek, he saw Derek and Lydia whispering together at her locker as he walked from English class to Physics. Lydia was trying, unsuccessfully, to stifle a giggle. As he saw them, a quick flush of anger swelled out from his core like the flash of a camera; one moment it was there, the next it was gone. It was a strange sensation, foreign to Stiles’ nature. He couldn’t put a name to it, but he stopped in his tracks, turned around, and walked away as quickly as he could.

He took five steps before the word came to his mind: jealousy. Stiles had always considered jealousy a petty reaction to circumstances but, now, he had to admit that it was an uncontrollable emotion. He could choose how to react to it, but he hadn’t been able to stop the flare of jealousy earlier. Stiles had never been jealous where Lydia was concerned, even when she was dating Jackson.

Stiles was long-past his crush on Lydia; that ship had sailed years ago, and he only kept up the ruse so people wouldn’t suspect his sexuality. That crush was almost instantly replaced by a crush on Derek Hale, though. Who could blame him? Derek had perfectly sculpted muscles and striking facial features that made Stiles smile every time he saw Derek.

More importantly, Stiles loved the snarky arguments he could have with Derek. No one had ever been able to match Stiles’ level of sarcasm and wit until Derek came around. The back-and-forth was something Stiles always looked forward to, even though he played it off like he was offended most of the time. He felt he and Derek were really beginning to trust each other these days, and that made him happier than he could remember. Still, Stiles didn’t think his crush on Derek had gotten to a level where jealousy was possible. Derek wasn’t even gay.

***

The second time Derek did something to make Stiles jealous was even more perturbing. This time, it was Derek and Scott that made Stiles jealous. Stiles walked past the clinic and heard Derek and Scott talking.

“God. I don’t know Derek, maybe The Crown House,” Scott said, clearly irritated. Stiles probably wouldn’t even have bothered eavesdropping, but The Crown House was his favorite restaurant, and a great place to take someone on a date.

“It’s just, like I told Lydia, I want it to be really special for our first date,” Derek explained. Another flash of jealousy consumed Stiles. His current crush was planning a date with his former crush. Great. “It has to be perfect.”

“Well, The Crown House is about as close as you’re going to get to perfect around here,” Scott asserted. Stiles couldn’t help thinking Scott was a traitor. “Can we be done with this conversation now? It’s really uncomfortable for me.” Well, maybe Scott had Stiles’ back after all. Scott was the only person who knew about Stiles’ crush on Derek. Still, he was a traitor.

“Yeah, thanks,” Derek answered. Stiles saw Derek squeeze Scott’s shoulder in appreciation. The soon-to-be-familiar rush of jealousy threatened Stiles, again. Was he really jealous of the contact between his two straight friends? Stiles sighed and walked away before Derek could see or hear him.

Derek did catch up to him quickly, though, on his way out of the school. “Hey, Stiles,” Derek offered. Stiles noticed that he was blushing—something Stiles had never witnessed before. Derek really was excited about this date with Lydia.

“Hello,” Stiles retorted sharply before turning the corner and walking away.

***

The third time, Stiles was actually jealous of Lydia. He watched from his lunch table as Derek approached Lydia out in the hallway—Derek was in the high school a lot for someone who graduated a few years ago. Creep! Adorable creep.

Derek handed her a red flower: a tulip. Stiles’ teeth clenched shut tightly. He had always had a certain love for tulips because his mother had grown them before she passed away. On top of that, red was his favorite color. Lydia turned the flower between two fingers and smiled brightly. She nodded twice and sauntered off to class.

So, Lydia had accepted Derek’s request for a date. Stiles let his head fall to the table with a soft thump. Scott scooted onto the bench next to him.

“Bad day?” he asked.

Stiles was still a bit mad at the traitor for suggesting Derek take Lydia to Stiles’ favorite restaurant on their date. So, he said, “Like you care,” and grabbed his tray to throw it away.

Scott held onto his arm firmly without hurting Stiles. “What do you mean? Of course, I care,” Scott assured him. Stiles just shrugged. “You’re allowed to be mad at me, but you’re going to have to tell me why.”

Stiles sighed. “It’s just been a weird week,” Stiles lied.

Scott eyed him carefully. “How so?”

“I…I guess I should have known…crushes on straight boys aren’t the best idea,” Stiles mumbled.

“Sometimes, our crushes can surprise us,” Scott asserted, letting go of Stiles’ arm.

“Not in this case,” Stiles said and left to dump his tray.

Scott caught up to him. “What makes you say that? Have you ever asked him if he’s gay?”

“I don’t need to ask him, Scott,” Stiles said carefully, his patience waning. “I have eyes. I’ve observed all I need to on the subject.” He jumped into his Calculus classroom before Scott could say another word.

***

The fourth time, Stiles’ jealousy bubbled over completely. He was on his way out of school and, sure enough, Derek and Lydia were at her locker again. This time, Lydia was handing Derek a CD. Stiles noticed the cover. Actual anger—not jealousy—rose from Stiles’ gut. He had given that CD to Lydia. Corrupting the Fox was Stiles’ favorite find. They weren’t well known or over produced, and there songs were basically a narration of his life. He shared that with Lydia, and she just gave it away to Derek.

Stiles slammed his locker shut. Heads snapped toward him from every direction. He stormed off toward his jeep, mumbling viciously under his breath the whole way. As he reached his jeep, a hand grasped his shoulder.

“Not now, Scott,” Stiles spitted out. He noted the reflection in his jeep’s mirror and realized it wasn’t Scott. His stomach fell.

“Are you ok?” Derek asked.

“Let go of my shoulder, Derek,” Stiles commanded. Derek released him, but leaned against the door of the jeep.

“What happened?” Derek pushed.

“Get out of my way Derek,” Stiles ordered.

“I’m not letting you drive like this,” Derek said. Stiles turned around and started walking away. “What are you doing?”

Stiles paused. “Apparently, I’m walking home.”

“You’re being ridiculous, Stiles,” Derek asserted.

Stiles laughed. “Why don’t you just go bother your girlfriend?”

Derek was struck still, his face contorted in confusion. Stiles used his momentary lapse to jump into the jeep. He was already driving away before Derek turned around with a look of comprehension on his face. Stiles drove right out of the lot without giving him a second glance.

A few minutes later, he was slamming the door to his bedroom. He collapsed face-first onto his bed. He bit a mouthful of comforter and screamed into the muffling fabric. Then, he slapped himself—a little harder than he planned—and mumbled, “Snap the fuck out of it, Stiles. It’s not even a possibility. Don’t let it get to you.”

***

By the fifth time, Stiles wasn’t even surprised by his own jealousy anymore. It was becoming far too common of an emotion for his tastes. He walked into his first period English class and caught the tail-end of Scott’s cellphone conversation.

“Yes, I can guarantee it,” Scott said. Listening to one side of a conversation was confusing. “Because he’s my best friend.” Pause. “No, he won’t interfere.” Pause. “I promise. I’ll keep him distracted somehow.” Pause. “I don’t know, yet! I’ll figure it out.” Pause. “I’m hanging up now, Derek.”

A multitude of thoughts flooded into Stiles’ head at the same time. One, Scott was siding with Derek over Stiles—his best friend. Two, Derek’s look of comprehension yesterday proved he knew Stiles knew about him and Lydia—and that Stiles was upset about it for some reason. Three, everyone just seemed to be making sure this Derek-and-Lydia thing worked out. Four, that fact made him insurmountably jealous.

Scott’s eyes locked onto Stiles’ and his face dropped. He moved more quickly than any human could have. “Stiles, it’s not what you think it is,” Scott pleaded.

“Yeah, ok,” Stiles shrugged him off. “You’re a shitty friend, Scott McCall.”

Scott’s face fell, but he said, “I understand why you would think that off of what you just heard, but…oh, fuck…I can’t tell you right now, but…it’s not what you think,” Scott promised.

“I’m not stupid, Scott,” Stiles pointed out. They stared at each other for a few moments, then Stiles said, “You know what? I’m not feeling that well. I think I’ll go to the clinic.” He walked away from his best—well former-best—friend.

***

The one time Stiles finally realized he didn’t have to be jealous of anyone was later that day. He was still angry as he pulled up to home. So angry, in fact, that he didn’t even notice the black Camaro parked across the street. As he reached his front door, Derek shouted at him.

“Stiles!” Derek called.

Stiles paused, but didn’t turn around. “What?” Stiles asked quietly, knowing that Derek would still hear him.

At first, Derek didn’t answer him. Stiles was about to turn the door handle anyway when he heard the music growing louder from Derek’s car. He recognized the melody to his favorite song by Corrupting the Fox. “Stiles!” Derek called again.

The smallest hint of a smile flashed across Stiles’ face. He turned and blushed at the sight before him. Derek was leaning against the hood of the Camaro in form-fitting, faded blue jeans with a vintage red t-shirt that grabbed tightly at his muscles. He held the base of a tulip stem in his left and cradled the blossom with his right. Stiles knew Derek wasn’t the most modern guy he knew, but this was a scene from an 80s movie.

“What’s all of this?” Stiles asked, suspicions running wild as his brain tried to process the past week from a different perspective.

It was Derek’s turn to blush. He shrugged his shoulders nervously. Stiles smiled at the adorable action, and at the idea he could make Derek nervous. “I…uh…” Derek laughed. “I was hoping you would go to dinner with me at The Crown House.” He didn’t move his eyes from Stiles’.

Stiles stared back intently. “Lydia told you what my favorite flower was?” Derek nodded. “And inspected them to make sure?” Another nod. “And she gave you the CD so you could play my favorite music?” Derek nodded again. “Scott told you about the restaurant for me?” One more nod. “I just don’t understand one thing,” Stiles admitted. “What were you and Scott talking about today?”

Derek smiled widely. “Scott is keeping your father away for the night,” Derek explained. “That way, when dinner is done, we can come back here and watch Star Wars together in peace.”

Little butterflies flapped their wings in Stiles’ stomach. “Scott or Lydia?” he asked, wondering who told Derek about his Star Wars obsession.

“Both,” Derek answered.

Stiles continued to search Derek’s eyes. He raised his hands and indicated the scene before them, “This is pretty cheesy.”

“You deserve it,” Derek insisted.

“You’ve never been more right about anything,” Stiles agreed, teasingly. “I love cheesy. This is perfect, Derek. Of course, I will go to dinner with you.”

Derek’s smile was gorgeous. “I’m glad!”

“You realize there are six Star Wars movies, right? And…like…days’ worth of behind the scenes documentary-style footage to go with them,” Stiles asked.

“Mmmhmmm,” Derek acknowledged.

“We won’t be able to watch them all tonight,” Stiles pointed out.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to spend a lot of evenings together,” Derek shrugged. “Is that ok with you?”

“Hmmm…I guess,” Stiles joked, walking over to wrap his arms around Derek’s waist. Derek’s cologne made him smell delectable. “Thanks,” Stiles mumbled into the embrace. “God, I was an idiot this week.”

“You said it, not me,” Derek teased. Stiles punched him in the arm before climbing into the Camaro to start their date.