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The Bus Driver

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Stiles hated mornings. He hated to get up from his bed, he hated to make breakfast for himself (he lived alone) and most of all he hated that he didn’t live with his dad anymore so he had to do everything by himself (preparing food, laundry, paying bills etc.)

Stiles had graduated from College last year, so he was now an officially working member of the society. His job? He was working as a kindergarten teacher.
Stiles loved his job. All the kids loved him and he was even friend with some of his co-worker (see: Kira, Boyd, Cora). Of course there where co-workers he didn’t like (see: Jackson the Douchebag).

As Stiles was standing at the bus stop, he came to think of one thing he actually liked about mornings: Derek the Gorgeous Bus driver.

Derek had started to drive the morning bus Stiles took, last week. The first morning Stiles had only been staring at Derek, to taken by that handsome face to do anything else, but every morning after that Stiles had tried to get Derek to talk to him, so far that had been unsuccessful. The only response from Derek Stiles had get was glaring.

“Are you coming?” a rough voice interrupted Stiles thinking. Stiles looked up and saw that the bus had come and Derek was glaring at Stiles.

“Always for you.” Stiles said with a wink and stepped on the bus.

Stiles thought he saw Derek’s ear tips glowing a bit red, but it could all be his imagination and wishful thinking.

He paid for his ticket and then sat down in the first seat on the left. Then he stared at Derek for a moment, before he started to bug him

“Why do you work as a bus driver? Do you think is fun? Do you like driving? I like driving! I have a blue Jeep at my dad’s place. It’s a bit old, but it’s still running…”

Derek just ignored him, so Stiles tested a different topic.

“What is your favorite color? Food? Hobby? Anything?” Still no answer. Stiles decided to try something new.

“So you don’t like to talk about yourself, then I’ll tell you about myself. My name is Stiles, I’m 23 and I’m a kindergarten teacher. I love kids and hate mornings. My favorite color is red and my favorite food is curly fries. I…”

“That’s not food.”


“Curly fries. That’s not food.”

“Of course it’s food! You can eat it, therefore it’s food.”

“You can eat mud, that doesn’t make it food.”

“That’s beyond my point. Curly fries is food.” Was it only Stiles, or is an argument about Curly fries a weird first discussion to have with somebody.


“Then what is your favorite food?”


Sigh. Back to silence from Derek’s side.

Stiles look up and saw that the next stop would be his stop. The bus stopped and Stiles got up from his seat, but before he exited the bus a voice said:

“Steak with potatoes and carrots.”

Stiles smiled as he got off the bus.


The next day Derek greeted Stiles with a “good morning”, while glaring, of course.

Stiles day was made. Even if Derek didn’t say anything else.


Over the next few weeks Stiles learned that if he started to talk about Derek, Derek would answer with silence, but if he talked about himself, Derek would answer with actual words.


One Friday morning when Stiles had non-stop talked with Derek, Stiles had missed his stop. Derek, that (gorgeous) jerk, hadn’t even said something about it before it was too late.

Derek hadn’t responded to Stiles babbling today. He hadn’t even been glaring, he had in fact been looking slightly nervous.

The only one riding the bus by now was Stiles and some old lady who always rode the bus.

Stiles sighed as he gathered his stuff so he could get off the bus when Derek would stop next time.

Derek pulled into a bus stop.

Stiles got up.

Derek didn’t open the door.

“Um, Derek?”

Stiles looked at Derek.

“The door, Derek…”

Derek looked pained.

“Oh, come on!” the old lady soddenly exclaimed, “Just grow a pair, so we can gossip as soon as this young man have gotten off.”

Derek went bright red.

Stiles just stared at the lady, then at Derek and then at the old lady again.

“Come again?” Stiles asked her, a bit (or very much) confused.

“Derek and I usually talk about you for quite a long time, once you get off the bus.” the old lady says, as if it was a totally normal thing to do.

Stiles lifted an eyebrow at Derek, while looking amused and smug at one. Talk about multitasking!

“You weren’t supposed to know about that!” Derek blushed.

“Is there something you wanted to say to me?” Stiles asked.

“Do you… want to… have dinner with me... tonight?”

Stiles gaped and stared at Derek. Had he heard right? Had Derek really asked him out on dinner?

“I… Of course. Yes! Yes, I want to have dinner with you!”

“Finally…” the old lady muttered.

Derek smiled a dazzling smile, before he opened the door and let Stiles out.

Stiles slowly stepped out of the bus, a bit unsure of what just had happened.

“Pick you up at your usual place at five.” Derek said before he closed the door and drove off.

Stiles just smiled and waved after him.