Chapter Text
The tiny bell above the door jingled once pulling Stiles out of his book. Glancing up he noticed Lydia’s eyes skimming the language section, eyeing up all the opportunities for her to learn more.
“Miss Martin, how are you this fine afternoon? You’re looking lovely as always. Please come on in, pick up and book and we’ll transport you to a world of pure imagination,” Stiles said in his best game show voice, trailing off into singing towards the end, “Unless you’re here for something non-fiction. In that case buy it and get out.”
“Wow, with sparkling wit like that it’s hard to imagine why you’re single,” Lydia replied coolly.
“Single pringle and ready to mingle,” Stiles corrected with a wink, “What can I do you for? Those Archaic Japanese books you ordered still aren’t here, something about bad weather out in the Pacific.”
“Yeah, plus the supplier hates Stiles,” Erica interjected as she came from the back room carrying a box of old, worn Shakespeare.
“I don’t even want to know what you did to piss him off,” Lydia said before her eyes started twinkling, “What I do want to know is why Boyd seems to think you’re smitten as a kitten over some guy. Details Stiles, details.”
“Ugh, Boyd. I am not smitten, okay? I do not have a ‘crush’ nor am I a thirteen year old girl,” Stiles rolled his eyes in her direction.
“His name is Derek, he works in the vintage record store across the street, he wear tight jeans, has stubble that’s very mountain man-esque, wears hipster glasses that Stiles wants to pull off and stare deeply into his eyes and has a car that gives even me a lady-boner,” Erica said, emerging from the stacks, “Plus his sister already likes Stiles. He’s basically already family.”
“I hate you, go back to your cave of spite,” Stiles narrowed his eyes at Erica as she smirked at him with her arms crossed.
“Shut up and take it like a man Stilinski. Or will he be the one taking it?” Erica asked with a cackle, diving back into the shelves when Stiles threw a guidebook at her head.
“I’ll have you know I’m very versatile, fuck you very much,” Stiles called after her.
“I’ll be sure to let Derek know,” The new voice made Stiles freeze and he turned around slowly before coming face to face with Laura.
“Um, well, um. What can I do for you Laura?”
“Laura? So you’re the girl that injured and maimed Stiles,” Lydia said, eyeing Laura up and down.
“You must be ‘Flawless Strawberry Goddess’. Nice to meet you, I’m ‘Queen of Perfection’,” Laura smirked before holding out her hand for Lydia to shake.
During their encounter Erica had come back around the counter, shuffling in close to Stiles. They shared a look of alarm.
“Hmm, the pleasure’s all yours,” Lydia sniffed but shaking the hand offered nonetheless.
“Indeed it is,” Laura replied, her eyes raking over Lydia’s short form.
“I don’t know if our lives just got better or worse,” Stiles whispered to Erica, his eyes impossibly wide.
“I’m right there with you batman,” Erica whispered back as she sat on the stool next to his.
“Anyway, pleasantries aside, Stiles. I need your help,” Laura said finally turning away from Lydia.
“My help? Are you sure you’re in the right place?” Stiles asked.
“Well this is a bookstore. You sell books, I need books. Seems like a pretty good place to start, don’t you think?” Laura asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I can feel you judging me and I’m surprisingly okay with it. What do you need?” Stiles asked, sliding off the stool and coming to a stop in front of the counter.
“Introduction to Jackson Pollock if you have it,” Laura answered.
“Jackson Pollock? Ugh, his art is awesome. The way he uses colour and the splatter patterns are so intricate and yet he can still make it look like mess on a page,” Stiles said animatedly, bouncing towards the art section.
“Well done Laura, you’ve ignited his nerd,” Erica sighed before adjusting her boobs, “Come on Lydia, I’m craving a double whipped mocha Frappuccino and only Boyd knows how to whip it just right.”
“I just got a shocking insight into your sex life,” Stiles shuddered, grabbing the book from the shelf.
“Whatever Stilinski, you’re just jealous. I’ll tell your platonic life partner you said hi,” Erica smirked before flouncing out the door.
“So Laura,” Stiles asked once the girls had gone,” Jackson Pollock? You thinking about taking up art?”
“Oh, it’s not for me. I’m just the only one that wasn’t busy so I had the time to come and get it,” Laura answered, leaning onto the counter.
“Someone in the shop? Who?” Stiles asked.
“That is none of your business, nosey. Oh, sorry I had to send my brother this morning instead of my fabulous self. Although I doubt you minded that much,” Laura smirked.
“Oh ha ha. You think you’re funny but really you’re just a bit of a bitch,” Stiles said shoving the book towards Laura with a bit too much vigour.
“Aw, don’t pout princess, it’s not a good look on you,” Laura smirked again.
“Shut up and get out. Go back to your life of evil,” Stiles hissed in mock outrage.
“Oh fine, be a baby. Thanks for the book!” Laura said on her way out the door.
“Hey, you never paid for that!” Stiles called out.
“Someone will, don’t worry,” Laura winked, shouldering her way out the door.
Stiles stood there in bewilderment before rolling his eyes and pulling out his sketchbook. It took at least seven drawings of drawing Laura in ridiculous clothes before he started to feel better.
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“I feel it in my bones, enough to make my systems glow, welcome to the new age, to the new age, welcome to the new age, to the new age,” Stiles sang while using a marker as a microphone. Only the bell jingling above the door broke him out of his performance.
“Hang on, I’ll be out the stacks in a second,” Stiles called out to whoever it was waiting. He filed away the last of ‘The Merchant of Venice’ before picking up the empty box and rounding the corner. Noticing Derek before he noticed him Stiles took a deep breath before squaring his shoulders.
“Derek my man, how’s it going? What can I do ya for?” Stiles asked, dumping the empty box on the floor behind the counter.
“I’m here to pay for that book Laura picked up earlier,” Derek answered, his face carefully blank.
“Oh my god, is it your book? Do you like Jackson Pollock?” Stiles’ eyes widened even as he rang up the book from memory.
“Yeah, I do,” Derek answered, his eyebrows pulling together.
“Good stuff man, you’ve got good taste. That’ll be twelve fifty please,” Stiles said, leaning his hands on the counter. He watched as Derek pulled out his wallet, noticing his thick fingers. He handed over the money, his hand brushing Stiles’. That tiny patch of skin seemed to ignite Stiles’ nerve endings, sending a shiver through him.
“Uh thanks,” Stiles said, “Here’s your change.”
“Keep it. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at eight,” Derek said brusquely, heading towards the door.
Stiles is not ashamed to admit he watched that booty jiggle before turning back to his books, humming ‘Radioactive’ to himself.
It was only when he got to the last chorus that he registered what Derek had said.
Holy shit.