"Who is that by your sister's Camaro?" Boyd asks, squinting into the bright midday.
Derek looks across the parking lot and sees Stilinski in his beanie and ratty, old cardigan, skating precariously close to the shiny car. His heart flutters in that dumb way it does whenever he sees Stilinski, and he ignores it the way he does whenever it flutters.
"Stilinski," Derek says dreadfully.
Boyd smirks knowingly as Isaac approaches them and asks,
Boyd tightens his arm around Erica's waist and points off to Stilinski, who is being joined by his friend, Scott.
"Stilinski is skating around Laura's car and it's giving Derek a condition."
"Do you know what my sister will do to me if I get a scratch on her car?"
"She's away at college," Erica says, "She's not gonna know, anyway."
"She will know. She can sense these kinds of things. She probably knows that someone clumsy and injury-prone is near it right now," Derek mutters.
He walks down the steps from the high school and across the lot, to where Scott and Stiles are laughing and rolling casually around the Camaro. Derek's still in his basketball shorts and he feels a little naked, with his legs showing. He nervously hopes his dark leg hair doesn't put Stiles off and then he inwardly slaps himself. His dumb heart is booming loudly in his chest as he approaches them and he grumbles,
"What are you guys doing here?"
"Just hangin', Hale," Stiles smirks as he circles around Derek, "It's a sweet ride, though. Is your sister here?"
Derek scowls, wondering if Stiles likes his sister. His heart sinks a little at the idea.
"No. And I've seen you smash into parked cars before. Get away from this one."
"What?" Stiles asks, looking offended, "I am very graceful!"
"The fire department had to come to our middle school when you choked on water during Field day. You don't have a fiber of grace in your entire body, Stilinski. I don't trust you on your feet and much less on your skateboard."
"Longboard," Stiles corrects indignantly, pulling up to a stop across from Derek.
Derek gives him a dry look.
"Fine," Stiles concedes, rounding back to Scott.
Stiles leaves with Scott without any further argument, but all Derek can think is that he's missed an opportunity.
Derek is just about asleep in Chemistry class and so, as he usually does when he can't focus, he looks across a desk to Stiles'. He's doodling a longboard on his looseleaf; the same one he always draws. He looks bored and daydreamy. Derek sighs inaudibly and his heart does that familiar thumping thing. He's not sure what's so attractive about Stilinski. He just knows that he's always had a thing for him. A really embarrassing thing that gets loud in his chest cavity whenever he looks over his way.
Stiles catches him staring and sticks his tongue out to let Derek know he still thinks he's a stinker. Derek fixates on Stiles' tongue. He wants to suck on it. He blushes. He feels it. His whole face gets hot and he looks away.
He catches Boyd's stare instead and Boyd smirks. He sneers at Boyd and looks down at his paper, counts the seconds until his face starts to feel semi-normal again.
"Oh no," Boyd laughs.
"Oh no, what?" Derek asks, unsure if he really wants to know.
"Stilinski at twelve o'clock, riding down a fucking railing."
"Oh no," Derek agrees.
He looks out and sees Scott flipping on his board and then jumping onto the railing and riding it down. He lands fairly gracefully, and then Stiles copies the move. Derek's heart suspends for a second in anxiety, until Stiles lands on the ground again and skates around. He sighs in momentary relief until it becomes apparent that Scott and he are competing.
They go back and forth a few times, until Scott rides down the railing again and flips his board while he's in the air, then lands and rides out the rest of the momentum until he slows to a stop. Stiles goes to repeat it, but he lands with a painful thud onto the concrete. Scott is over him immediately, but Derek can't stop his instinctive rush. He's by Stiles' side before he knows he's moved.
He swears, "You fuckin' idiot! Are you okay?"
Stiles groans a little and Derek sees a little blood on the concrete behind Stiles' head and his stomach drops. Stiles' eyes are glassy and a little distant when he says,
"Whoa. Hey there."
Derek nods and mumbles back, "Hey."
Stiles asks sleepily, "Are you an angel?"
Derek makes a strange noise in response. He looks to Scott who is staring oddly at him and he says,
"He's concussed. Call an ambulance."
Scott nods dutifully and takes out his cellphone. Derek looks back at Stiles and pets back his hair from his forehead. He's not sure why he does it — he knows his mother used to do that to him when she'd check him for fever. His nerves delight at meeting Stiles' flesh.
"You are a very pretty angel."
Derek feels his face get hot. He hears Boyd chuckle from behind him and he peers over his shoulder to see Boyd with Erica and Isaac. He sighs and knows this won't be a matter let go of too soon.
"Thanks, Stilinski," He reluctantly mutters back, still glaring at Boyd.
"Are angels allowed to get head?"
He splutters and twists his head around to see Stiles. He's closing his eyes and looks like he's drifting to sleep when he mumbles,
"You deserve a lot of head. Them some good genes. Worth celebrating."
"Whoa, whoa," Derek says, red-faced and heart-hammering. He grabs Stiles' face with both hands and says, "Stay awake, Stiles. Don't go to sleep."
"Stiles?" Boyd teases.
Derek glares at him and Boyd shows his palms in submission. Derek leans over Stiles more and smacks him very lightly. Just enough to keep Stiles from shutting his eyes.
"Hey," Stiles objects weakly, "no hitting. I'm not into that."
"This is precious," Erica smiles.
"And revealing," Boyd chuckles.
Isaac mentions, "Stilinski has a lot more game than I thought if he'd just ask to go down on an angel that casually."
"Oh my God, shut up," Derek groans.
He waits with them until the ambulance arrives and resists asking McCall about how Stiles is recovering when he's not in school the next day.
During one of the school basketball games, Derek does a little victory dance after a particularly rewarding score and when his classmates cheer, he does a backflip.
He's still gloating when he catches Stilinski's freckled face in the crowd. His face heats up and Stiles grins at him. He doesn't think Stiles has ever been to any of the school basketball games before. Maybe it's his way of thanking Derek for prompting the ambulance call. He meets eyes with Boyd, across the court and when Boyd runs up next to him, he says,
"Glad you finally noticed. I can basically see the hearts in his eyes from this distance."
"Don't worry," Boyd smiles, "He can see yours too."
He's hyperaware of Stiles for the rest of the game and can hardly concentrate on what's at hand. He knows he's about to get benched for being so distracted. He makes an impressive shot and maybe flexes his arms more than necessary and then, rather than dancing, he seeks out Stiles. Stiles is standing up, cheering and it makes his heart soar. He grins like an idiot and Stiles' eyes twinkle, even from so far away. Stiles gives him a little nod of approval and he kind of chuckles to himself like a twelve year old girl.
He's promptly struck in the head by a basketball he wasn't paying attention to.
Chemistry continues to go over his head and he struggles to stay awake. Stilinski is fashioning an arm sling. Probably from a recent blunder on his dumb fucking longboard. He looks over to Stiles and thinks about how stupidly pretty he is. He watches Stiles' working hand scribble against his paper and where he expects to see another longboard doodle, he sees a basketball. His chest feels like it widens hopefully. His eyes traipse up Stiles' arm, his neck, to his face and Stiles turns his head to meet the stare.
Stiles looks down at his paper, then back to Derek and shrugs with embarrassment. He looks like he immediately regrets shrugging his shoulder. Derek smirks at him and Stiles' eyes get caught on his mouth. Derek takes out his black sharpie (that he usually uses for bathroom graffiti) and writes his cellphone number in bold across his looseleaf. He tilts his binder so that Stiles can see it. Stiles' eyes widen with surprise and then his entire face breaks with a huge grin.
(Two weeks later)
"Stilinski's skating by your car again."
Derek looks away from Boyd to over his shoulder. He looks across the lot and, sure enough, Stilinski is there, skating in circles.
"You'd think after dislocating his shoulder, he'd give the damn thing a rest."
Derek smiles and says, "I like his perseverance."
"Your crush is gross, Derek. You and your affection is gross," Erica complains.
Derek shrugs at her and leaves them. He descends the stairs to the car and Stiles smiles at him.
"Looking for a lift?" Derek asks.
Stiles kicks his board up to his good arm and shifts his weight onto one foot. His hip is cocked where he's holding his longboard and he smirks mischievously,
"I guess. It's a nice ride."
Derek glances at the longboard and gestures vaguely at it,
"I'll give you a ride this time and next time, you can teach me how to ride that satanic board."
Stiles grins and nods agreeably.
"Sounds like a plan."