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You Crashed Through My Door (And Into My Heart)

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Derek’s halfway from his front door to his kitchen when he hears a panicked, “Oh, shit ,” followed by his door crashing open and the insanely hot guy from down the hall pretty much falling into his living room. He turns, grocery bags in hand, and blinks, nonplussed, when he meets Insanely Hot Guy’s sheepish wince.

“Dude, I’m so sorry, I know I’m totally invading your space, but…”

Derek waits, cocking his head slightly. The groceries are heavy, the fabric handles wrapped around his wrists and digging into the thin skin. Insanely Hot Guy flails a little, apparently hoping his animated gesturing will explain why he all but pole-vaulted into Derek’s apartment.

“Your door was open. Kinda? I think you didn’t push it all the way shut when you came in, it was standing open like an inch,” Insanely Hot Guy explains, and Derek gives him a Look that says it’s not nearly good enough. He sighs. “My ex is waiting at my door. I would really like to not have to see him.”

“So you thought home invasion was your solution?” Derek replies mildly, and Insanely Hot Guy brightens before flinching.

“Kinda? I just sort of took the opportunity.” He sticks his head out in the hallway and immediately ducks back in, easing the door shut behind him. “Can I stay here for a few minutes? He can’t hang around forever.”

Derek sets the grocery bags down on the counter, pulling open his fridge to start putting away the fruits and vegetables. “Bad breakup, I take it?” he asks, not answering the question but knowing his own is answer enough.

Insanely Hot Guy plops down on Derek’s couch, talking to him over the back of it. “It wasn’t that it was really a bad breakup. He’s just hounding me for some of his stuff back.”

“Why can’t you just give his stuff back?” Derek points out, in what he believes is a fairly reasonable tone.

Not so, according to Insanely Hot Guy’s reaction. “Because I won it fair and square!” he protests hotly. “We made a bet, and I won, and I got to take all his Yankees shit and shove it at the bottom of my closet so it can never see the light of day again! He doesn’t get it back now just because we broke up.”

“Ah.” Derek’s pretty sure he gets it now. “Mets fan?”

“Like there’s any other team worth rooting for,” Insanely Hot Guy snorts, and really, Derek needs to figure out his name, because while Insanely Hot Guy is an apt moniker, it’s not what he wants to keep calling the guy in his head.

“Does that mean you’re going to stay long enough to watch the Mets game?” Derek asks, hoping the ex sticks around long enough to force the issue.

Insanely Hot Guy grins. “That’d be awesome! Except you don’t have anything against pizza and beer, right?” he continues, gesturing at Derek’s groceries-which, to be fair, look like he basically swept the entire health food and produce sections into his cart. “I can’t watch the game without pizza and beer.”

Derek opens his fridge again to show off the six-pack on the bottom shelf. “You order, I’ll pay.”

“Nah. You’re letting me crash your place, the least I can do is spring for grub.” He pulls out his phone and starts tapping at it, presumably pulling up the ordering app, and Derek finishes putting the last of the groceries away.

“So, um, do you have a name or anything?” he ventures, mentally groaning at how idiotic he sounds, and the guy winces, an expression of contrition flashing across his face. He leaps off the couch and comes around, leaning over the island that separates the kitchen from the living room.

“Dude, I’m a moron. Name’s Stiles,” he offers, bracing his elbows against the granite countertop. “And you’re Derek, right? I’ve lived down the hall from you for four months.”

“I know,” Derek responds automatically, and immediately he can feel the tips of his ears turn hot. “I mean…”

Stiles grins, a little cockily, and Derek’s pretty sure he just fell a little more in love. “Yeah? Trust me, I noticed you first thing, too.” His grin turns sly. “I might have to go back to my apartment for a few minutes after all, I need to grab something. Want to walk me out?”

Derek’s not entirely sure he knows what’s going on, but as Stiles grabs his hand over the island and tugs, pulling him along, he’s pretty sure he’s okay with finding out.

Then they step into the hallway, and the guy still hovering around Stiles’ door at the end of the hall-a douchey looking blond whose expression of bored arrogance sours Derek against him immediately-turns to glance at them. Stiles flickers his wide eyes to Derek, and before Derek can think, he’s pressing Stiles into the wall and leaning in, slotting their mouths together and easing his knee between Stiles’ thighs.

Stiles groans underneath him and his hands find Derek’s hips instinctively, pulling him in until they’re cradled against each other, friction generating a not-so-surprising flare of heat between them. It was meant to be a “hah, you lost out,” gesture at the ex, but Derek finds himself forgetting exactly where they are and exactly what time of day or what day or what year it is, because he’s so lost in the taste of Stiles’ mouth and the way his tongue is sliding over Derek’s own, curling and stroking and seeking. It isn’t until the distant sound of an irritated huff, accompanied by a petulant stompy gesture, breaks through the haze, that he remembers how this all started.

When he pulls back in a daze, douchey ex is gone and Stiles is smiling up at him, somewhat shyly. “That’s not exactly how I imagined our first kiss going, but I’m not complaining,” he teases lightly, and Derek finds himself raising an eyebrow playfully.

“You imagined our first kiss?” he prompts, and Stiles shrugs, cheeks coloring.

“Only a couple hundred times, give or take,” he admits, eyes twinkling, and Derek laughs, so thoroughly charmed that he’s already looking forward to Stiles becoming a huge part of his life. He shifts a little, pulling back so Stiles can move away from the wall. “You ready to go back inside?”

“I thought you had to go get something from your apartment,” Derek reminds him.

Stiles shakes his head, eyes shining impishly. “I already have everything I need right here.”

And when the Mets win and Stiles pulls himself into Derek’s lap to give him a congratulatory kiss, Derek’s pretty sure he completely agrees.