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            Stiles was a good friend. Scott was not. But because Stiles was a good friend he was here, even if Scott didn’t deserve it. Here being a gas station buying condoms. Stiles wasn’t buying them for himself, no. Stiles was eternally trapped in the land of sexual frustration, he didn’t need condoms. He was buying them for Scott. Scott, who needed more condoms because he and Allison were going at it like two dogs in heat. Scott, who couldn’t buy them himself because lacrosse, and mom, and sneaking around.

            Stiles sighed as he surveyed the small assortment of sizes and brands. He was desperately tempted to get Scott the smallest ones available. It would serve him right, making Stiles think for even a moment about the size of his best friend’s penis. He sighed again and grabbed the most flamboyant box of the regular size condoms.

            Stiles did his best to cover the box with his hands as he stepped up to the short line. There wasn’t anything wrong with a teenager buying condoms, but the last thing he wanted was for someone to see him and casually mention it to his father. Stiles couldn’t imagine much worse than having the sex talk with his dad again, especially since he didn’t actually get to have the sex. Stiles glanced around nervously, hoping not to spot anyone he knew.

            And he didn’t.

            What he did spot was a shiny black car that was all too familiar. Stiles cringed slightly and made a more frantic visual sweep of the convenience store.

            “Looking for someone?” came the familiar voice from behind him just as he decided it was someone else’s car. Stiles half jumped, half tripped as he whirled around.

            “Oh my god,” he said with his ‘I never expect you to be there’ tone. He shook his head slightly and ran a hand through his short hair nervously. “Didn’t see you there, Derek. I was just…uh…” Both of them looked down at the box in his hand. Stiles threw his hands out in a ‘you totally didn’t see that’ way and then held the box behind him. Derek just looked at him as if he was his own punch line (which, let’s face it, he was) and then glanced down with a bemused smirk.

            “They’re not for me,” Stiles said quickly, wishing he hadn’t.

            “Right,” Derek replied.

            “They’re for Scott.” Derek raised one eyebrow, that bemused expression still on his face. There was a distinct implication in that look. “For Allison!” He paused. “For Scott to use with Allison,” Stiles finished lamely, bobbing slightly from side to side as he brought the box back in front of him.

            There was an awkward pause.

            “What about you?” he asked, mentally kicking himself because he could see the six pack in Derek’s hand. Derek gave him that cocky bastard smile of his and replied,

            “Those wouldn’t fit.” Stiles’ jaw dropped. The line moved forward and Derek stepped past him as he continued to just stare.