Chapter Text
“So, Stiles is a musician?” Erica was perched on the desk, her high heeled shoes swinging.
“He’s a drummer, but-“ he cut himself off but Erica had already caught it, her eyes narrowing. She stared him down, before he groaned, “Fine, Jesus, he can sing too.”
She lit up like the Las Vegas strip, “He serenaded you?”
Derek felt his face heat up and resisted the urge to hide under his desk, “We talk a lot and he’s a very animated person.”
The excuse felt flimsy even to himself and Erica knew it, “He totally sings to you! I bet he’s writing you a song!”
Derek placed his head down on the desk letting out a groan as Erica cackled. The help bell chimed saving Derek from dying of embarrassment and he rushed off before Erica could follow.
The rest of his shift was blissfully uninterrupted since Boyd had come by and sufficiently distracted Erica for the last hour. Like clockwork he walked out the front doors, pulling the keys from the lock as his phone rang.
“How was work?” he could hear the other man smile through the phone.
“You’d be proud, a little girl checked out the entire Percy Jackson series.”
“Aw she’s gonna grow up to be a cute little queer,” they had argued a few days ago that everyone who loved PJO grew up to be at least a little gay and that Warrior Cat kids all became some kind of societal menace.
“I still don’t believe your theory. I enjoyed the occasional warrior cat’s book.”
“Well, I read PJO and loved it and I’m a walking rainbow and Jackson read Warrior cats and now he’s an asshole,” he had also talked about Jackson his high school bully turned bitter almost brother, “You are also a menace to society because you put hot sauce on literally everything. You literally carry a bottle of sriracha in your bag, Der.”
“Don’t bring my hot sauce addiction into this, Stiles,” he could hear a clatter in the background, “Where are you? Am I interrupting something?”
“Huh? No, never. I’m at work and your sister is just a clutz,” he raised his voice on the last part and he could hear Cora yelling back.
Derek's heart rate sped up and he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. He was on his way to Port Side as he does after every shift, but every single time Stiles was already gone. Meeting for the first time in a coffee shop, how cliché of them, but they had already managed to fall in love over phone calls.
He shook himself out of it walking forward, “Cora once dropped mom’s favorite glass and I thought she was going to run to Mexico and change her name.”
Stiles laughed and any hesitation melted away; Derek was ready to meet him, he wanted to see that laugh. “Cora what would’ve been your new name?”
He could hear Cora more clearly now, “That’s need-to-know information and stop spilling my secrets, Derek!”
He laughed again, quieter this time, “I need all the secrets, but later because my break is over, and I think Cora actually broke something this time.”
He almost ruined the surprise but managed to get out a ‘goodbye’ before Stiles hung-up cutting off a shout midway. The shop was in sight and Derek nervously fixed his hair in the window of the shop closest. He counted the steps to keep himself from overthinking and running away. Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, he reached the door and stepped inside.
A stack of empty dish racks stacked too tall came from the back followed by plaid clad arms and back. Derek had made it inside without being noticed and he waited by the door, all nerves.
The other man sat down the rack on the counter, his back still turned and he could hear Cora in the back shout out, “Stiles!”
The man had barely turned just his side profile visible and Derek's stomach sank all the way to the ground. He desperately wished he could follow it and the ground would swallow him whole.
Stiles was his hot neighbor.
Stiles was his hot neighbor that he has been an absolute dick to for over a month. He was out the door and down the block before his brain came back online. He made it back and inside his apartment on autopilot and when he let out a single ‘Fuck” Melon meowed back at him in sympathy..
It was three hours later when he heard Stiles come home and when his phone rings three minutes later, he watches it ring. After a minute it goes silent and another minute later two texts come through. He lunges for the device with his heart in his throat.
S: You probably started another book, so I’ll leave you to it, but I expect a five-page report on my desk by Monday.
S: But if you have no plans, my gig starts at 7 over at Boyd’s. I’ll save you a seat.
Derek instead calls Erica. She answers after three rings and after Derek explains everything without taking a breath she sighs, “Derek, I don’t get why you’re freaking out isn’t this a good thing?”
“I’ve been a dick to him since the first day.”
“Are we talking more than your usual brooding? Oh, that’s not good.”
“Erica!”
She clicked her tongue, “Hold on let me think. He knows you aren’t the warmest to strangers and I think he’ll forgive your dickish behavior. It’s not like you actually egged him on, you were just a little rude.”
Erica managed to calm him down and when he heard Stiles’s front door opening, he pressed his ear to his own hoping to hear something. It sounded like Stiles was on the phone. “Dad, I’m not overthinking. We’ve talked every night and I just, I don’t know, have a feeling I did something.”
There was a moment of silence, and he could hear Stiles fall against the wall, “I really like him, Dad, and I just feel like I managed to fuck it all up again.”
Derek pressed himself against his door, his hand wrapped around the handle. Just one movement and he would be right there. After a couple more moments of silence Stiles spoke, “I don’t know, I just thought maybe this time things would be different. Maybe I was just too much again? I gotta get to practice, I love you, Dad.”
He could hear the door for the stairwell open and close and his hand fell from the doorknob the silence following, seeming to mock him. He hated how small the other man had sounded as he asked that last question. Stiles was like a fireworks show, loud and demanding attention, but also beautiful and shocking and impossible to look away from.
He slipped his cell from his pocket, his finger hovering over Stiles’s contact before tapping on Erica’s name.
“I’m done being scared, it’s time to find out the ending of this romance novel.”
Erica squealed, “Fuck, yes! I’m coming over. I have a brilliant plan fit for a romantic comedy.”
Twenty minutes later Erica was banging on his door demanding to see his closet. “You will be going to his concert tonight. You will be getting the stupid man of your dreams and you will not be wearing a sweater with holes in it while doing it.”
Her choice of jeans was quick, a dark wash pair that he knew made his thighs look good, but she had been digging through his shirts for over fifteen minutes. The deeper she dug the more his nerves resurfaced taking residence as a pit in his stomach.
What if Stiles didn’t like him after he knew? Would Stiles think he was lying? Would he believe him…would he want to?
“Are you sure going to his concert is the best choice?”
Erica reemerged from his closet a black button up in her hands, her smile soft, “Derek he knows you. The you underneath the leather jacket and the grumpy eyebrows. You heard him in that hallway, he likes you. He also thinks he’s the one who fucked everything up, do you want to leave him feeling like that?”
“No, he deserves to know,” he took a shuddering breath, “Is that the shirt you’ve landed on?”
-
Noise was spilling from the propped open door of Boyd’s as Derek hesitated outside the door. His heart was pounding in his chest and his palms felt clammy as he slipped his cell out.
S: But if you have no plans, my gig starts at 7 over at Boyd’s. I’ll save you a seat.
D: I prefer standing room. Good luck.
A few seconds pass before the three dots pop up and Stiles’s message comes through.
S: Then you can stand on side stage. Perfect timing as always.
Stiles’s teasing soothed his frayed nerves and he stepped inside soaking up the warmth of the bar. He spotted Boyd behind the bar who waved him over when they made eye contact. “I’m assuming Erica told you her plan?”
“I suggested the shirt,” the normally stoic man smiled, “Now let's get you snuck around to the backstage area.”
Before he could protest the other man grabbed his shoulder and practically dragged him behind the bar and towards the door leading to the alleyway. He shoved the key into his raised hands and tugged at the collar of his shirt, “Stiles has been bragging about you since the day you started texting. I know you love him, I can see it, but I also know he loves you too.”
His heart kicked up again and he was worried Boyd could hear it in the quiet hall. He nodded and pushed open the door, freezing before the other door labeled ‘Stage.’ Derek had never been in love, at least he doesn’t think so. After Kate he thought the whole thing was something made up on a page.
The butterflies, the late night calls, and just knowing someone so well. Except he did now. Quick calls on their shared breaks calmed his anxiety. Hiding smiles from Erica when Stiles flirted with him. Knowing Stiles’s real name, his dreams, how his mother died, how the band started; he knows that Stiles would tell him anything if he simply asked while his sister’s know none of it. They don’t know Stiles.
A frightening thought settled behind his ribs that Stiles didn’t know Derek. He shared in moderation, that fear of being left behind or manipulated holding him back. He had never trusted someone as he trusted Stiles. He wanted Stiles to know everything, needed him to.
He unlocked the door, the noise of tuning guitars carrying over the bar’s chatter. He spotted a younger man that he guessed was Liam quickly tuning his guitar and he flashed to when Stiles told him Liam was always late.
Liam looked up as the door slammed behind him, his eyebrows pulling together, “Hey, dude, you can’t be back here.”
Before he could speak the younger man was whisper-shouting as he pulled his guitar over his head, “Oh my god, you’re Derek aren’t you! Boyd was acting way too smug earlier!”
He hushed the younger boy with his hands, “Yes I’m Derek and I’m…here to…surprise Stiles?”
Liam’s face lit up with a smile and Derek swallowed a laugh at how expressive the younger boy was, “That’s like super romantic, he’s in the green room down the hall with Scott but they should be out here any minute.”
He could hear voices as soon as Liam stopped talking and every muscle in his body locked up rooting him to the floor. The guy from the day Stiles moved in came around the corner, who had to be Scott. He looked like a confused puppy but Liam tugged him out onto the stage area before he could question anything.
Not even a second later Stiles came around the corner freezing when he met Derek’s eyes. He swallowed the nerves in his throat before speaking, a simple soft, “Hi, Stiles.”
It was exhilarating to watch him put together everything, having imagined it for so long, before settling on a shocked smile, “Derek?”
He nodded still nervous at Stiles reaction even with his smile.
“Holy shit,” Stiles rushed forward wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck who melted into the embrace, his arms curling around the other’s waist, “How? What?”
Derek refused to pull away, placing his forehead on the shorter man's shoulder, “I went to the coffee shop today and I saw–I saw you. I knew right away who you were and I’m so sorry I’ve been such an asshole.”
“Hold on,” he stepped back slightly, forcing Derek’s head up, but keeping his hands on his chest, “Why are you acting like you saw me naked? Sure, it's a really cool coincidence, but I kinda always knew you were a bit of an asshole.”
He pressed their foreheads together, making Derek’s breath hitch, “Now we should run out that door.”
Derek felt a blush rise on his cheeks and he pushed his hands against Stiles’s chest, but the other man held firm, “We can’t just leave, you have a show. You love being on stage.”
Stiles groaned, shaking Derek with the hands he had wrapped around him, “God, no, I hate it, being up there and stared at. But I love music and my friends, so I keep getting back on stage.”
“What?” it came out as a single breath.
“Are you getting it now, Der?” Stiles reached up cupping Derek’s cheek, “That I’ll do the impossible to just keep doing the things I love.”
Derek couldn’t breathe but he was surprisingly getting used to the feeling. Stiles was looking at him as if he had hung the moon and was just waiting on Derek to figure out that Stiles had hung stars around it.
Before he could respond Scott yelled for Stiles to get on stage. His smile faltered for a moment and Derek could see the shred of doubt creep into Stiles’s heart as if it was his own. And maybe it was. The need for Stiles to know him and everything he means burning him inside.
“I wear socks to bed almost all the time, I totally have a hot sauce addiction, I should wear glasses,” he rushed the words out afraid that Stiles would run from him before he could finish, “and I am completely in love with you,”
Stiles was back in an instant closing the distance until their chests were flush, their foreheads pressed together. Derek closed his eyes, but he knew that Stiles was staring at him. At the real him. Not the dickhead neighbor. Not Laura’s little brother. Not librarian Hale. He was looking at him, Derek Robert Hale, as all of those and more.
He brushed their noses together and Derek let out a breathless laugh. Stiles' hands tightened before he groaned, “Have I ever told you that your timing is awful?”
“Once or twice,” Derek’s voice was raw. It was like an emotional dam had broken and now that he’s allowed himself to love Stiles it was almost overwhelming. Irrationally, he felt like the main character in those cheesy romance novels.
“Derek Robert Hale, I am in love with you,” he pulled Derek up, pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss. It was soft and perfect, and Derek let out a sigh when Stiles pulled back, “I am so in love with you, but I do need to get on stage.”
It was as if a bubble had popped the chatter of the audience and mindless strumming from Liam finally reaching Derek. Stiles made no intention to move and Derek knew he would have to be the one to push Stiles on stage.
He leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, Stiles giving a hum that set Derek’s blood rushing, “I want to see you play. Laura said you’re a rockstar. Then after we can go to mine and you can meet Melon and we can…get to know each other better.”
He relished in the shiver that the other man let out at his sultry tone, his eyes glazing over, and Derek was immediately addicted to the way it made him feel. For the first time he felt truly desired and all he wanted was to give himself over to it.
“I’m your rockstar now,” he pressed another quick kiss to his lips before darting onto the stage.
Derek stood there for a minute letting out a breathless laugh at the ridiculousness Stiles truly was. He was everything and nothing he imagined, better than anything he could read from a book because he was here winking at Derek from behind his drum kit with a sultry smirk.
He wondered if Stiles would let him write their love story.
As he leaned against the wall watching their set and Stiles’s bright eyes he knew he was already looking forward to the sequel.