Chapter Text
Stiles finds the notebook in his locker, nestled inside one of his shoes and definitely not where he left it. He's been searching literally every single place he could think at the hospital for it. He even considered the possibility that he left the thing at Derek's. But he wasn't going to break and use the key after this long of holding out.
After all, whatever is going on with Derek is purely sex and mockery (S&M. Wait. No. Hold that thought for later.) Stiles has got his career to think about. He doesn't need his penis, heart and brain focused on Derek. The penis thing, sure. But the heart and the brain thing are not gonna happen. Not if Stiles wants to be a world renowned cardiovascular surgeon by the time he's 40.
The list he's been trying to make for weeks now is still there, only very neatly in the lines following that he had left blank so he could add later to each reason, there's Derek's precise writing. He's answering Stiles back.
Jesus.
Stiles basically sinks to the bench of the locker room before his legs give out on him from sheer horror alone.
Things That Are Wrong With Dr. Hale(Also Known as Dr. Sexy M.D.) -Why are you capitalizing your articles in a title? You are a doctor. You went to 8 years of college. You should know better.
#1: Wears his scrub shirt tucked into his pants like a freak. -I always know where my beeper is. Some of us sacrifice fashion to know that updates on our patient's lives aren't in danger of falling out of our pockets and in to the toilet. I never told Lydia about that.
#2: What grown man knows all the words to Frozen? -A grown man who is known by all nurses as the Baby Whisperer.
#3: Doesn't own a TV. Whenever I do see him watching TV, he's watching sitcoms from the 70's. I don't think he even knows what Game of Thrones is. - Valor Morghulis. You obviously spent too much time perving on my underwear drawer to notice the hardbacks of the entire series (so far) on my bookshelf.
#4: I think he was raised by wolves. Never speaks about his family. -My sister is the reason you didn't have a penis drawn on your forehead.
#5: Likes to dip his jammy toast into his eggs. -You like chocolate and peanut butter together. That's freakish and gross.
#6: My nipples were never this sensitive before. Derek Hale is obviously a nipple charmer. Like in a bad way. -This didn't seem like a problem last week when you had to start a rumor that Isaac had extreme night terrors to explain the noises coming out of the on call room. And it wasn't Isaac having his shoe nightmares making that noise. It was you, Stiles.
#7: You can't like a person whose first words to you were "Get the fuck out of my way before I run you over." -Those weren't my first words to you. But to give you a clue as to what they were, think farther back. Your first words to me were "You saved my chips."
Stiles stares at the paper in his hands, feeling his heartbeat wildly in his chest. Not just about the fact that Derek found Stiles' pathetic attempt to get over him in the form of a list of his faults that weren't even that bad. If anything they were endearing as fuck and made Stiles look like one of those feral children by comparison.
His shift is over. All around him people are changing out of their scrubs and back into their normal clothes. Stiles shakes his head as a crazy thought worms its way inside. He reaches into the locker and grabs the first thing his hands touch, taking it with him as he sprints out of the locker room and out into the hall.
He knocks into Scott's shoulder on his way out the door.
"What's up man? Cute baby in the nursery?" Scott asks. Because they are totally men who are in touch with their feelings and sometimes they like to look at the babies to feel better about their days. Just so they know even if they lost someone that day, there's always life making itself known in the universe.
"No time!" Stiles yells, "But there is a super cute baby up there!"
It's probably a sign of how great their friendship is that Scott doesn't even bother to ask where he's running to. Scott just fist pumps and take off in the direction of the birthing unit to go look at the babies himself.
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Derek's door is open. So either Cora's inside making herself a grilled cheese or he's been robbed. Derek prepares himself for either situation, judging by how Cora leaves his kitchen after she's been cooking, he would almost rather be robbed.
Thank god she dropped out of med school. Otherwise her scrub nurses would hate her for how sloppy she is.
Either way, Derek pushes his way into the loft cautiously. The lights are on, that stupid reclaimed barn wood chandelier that how mom bought him glowing with soft light from the high ceiling.
"I don't have anything worth stealing!" Derek calls into the apartment. "And if you're my sister, I haven't gone grocery shopping in over a week. So there's nothing here for you either way."
"I wouldn't say there's nothing valuable here. Those vintage mason jars go for some big bucks on eBay." A familiar voice says from the second floor.
Alright. Derek never considered a third option of who could be in his apartment when he found the door open. Probably because it seemed a lot more possible that he was being robbed rather than the man in question finally using the key he was given.
"You used the key." Derek says, dropping his bag by the door and hanging his coat up on the hook. He's trying to do the best he can not to sound too surprised. That would give all the power to Stiles.
"I did." Stiles says, appearing at the top of the stairs. He's still in his scrubs for some reason, tan forearms and deft hands poking out from the pushed up sleeves of the grey henley of Derek's that he never gave back. He stops on the middle of the steps, eyes going wide. "That's okay right?"
Derek sighs. "It just seemed more and more likely that I'd find it back in my own locker."
Stiles frowns and stays still on the steps like he's frozen there. Derek takes it upon himself to walk the rest of the way to the other man.
If that's not a metaphor for their relationship, he doesn't know what is. Stiles going one step and Derek meeting him there.
"It's okay." Derek says. Though, he doesn't know what this means. Stiles standing here in his apartment in his scrubs like he just ran here form the hospital. And he must have because Derek ducked out of there pretty quickly himself. Though, McCall nearly ran him over with his running down the hall to some kind of emergency. "I'm glad you did. The fact that I keyed you wasn't a big enough problem to wind up in your burn book."
Stiles closes his eyes, still standing there with one hand wrapped around the railing of the spiral staircase. Derek's seen him do this a few times. He'll sort of shut down and then reboot moments later.
"I didn't mean for you to find that." Stiles says after a few awkward moments.
"Obviously." Derek replies, a quirk to his mouth. He nods his head towards the couch. There's no need for them to have this conversation in the middle of his apartment like this is some intense scene in a movie.
"I didn't." Stiles says, following him when he walks to the couch and sits down on the end, kicking his feet up to rest on the cushions. It says a lot that Stiles lifts his feet and sits beneath them instead of sitting on the end cushion. He doesn't know what it means, but it's something. "That was stupid. I'm stupid."
"You're not stupid. Sometimes you're an idiot. But you're not stupid." Derek says. And there is a difference.
Stiles shakes his head. "This is coming out wrong. If I'm gonna do this, I need you to not talk. Okay?"
Derek remains silent.
"Is that okay?" Stiles asks.
"You told me not to talk!" Derek answers.
Stiles rolls his eyes and launches into it at full speed. "I'm not that guy right now. I'm not the guy who can settle down and have a boyfriend. I just can't. Not if I want to do what I want to do in my career. I can't have both of the things. I can't have you and surgery. Because at some point I'm going to have to choose between them, and I don't even want to get to that point."
As he speaks, Stiles looks more and more like he's upset about what he's saying. His cheeks are getting redder and his eyes continue getting wider.
"So I made a dumb list of all the dumb things that are wrong with you, that aren't even that wrong with you." Stiles continues. Derek just sits back with his arms across his chest, letting him get it all out. "And I didn't mean for you to find it. Because now I don't know if you're pissed at me. And you probably think I'm an asshole. Which I am, I'm that guy. But the other kind of guy who can be your boyfriend. I'm not that guy. And believe me, you don't want me to be that for you."
Just as quickly as he wound up, Stiles winds down. He presses his back to the couch and just deflates, a hand going to his mouth so he can gnaw on his thumbnail.
"I don't know who told you that you have to be anything," Derek says. This is seriously the first time he's had a deep conversation without a beer in his hand since college. "But they're wrong. And if you think that, then you're wrong. I think you've got this idea in your head that in order to be my boyfriend or whatever, that you have to change everything about your life. The thing is that you don't. You don't have to change. Or give up on your career, because god knows I'm not giving up on mine."
There's hollow silence that fills the room when Derek finishes speaking. Stiles lays his hand on Derek's knee, a faraway look on his face.
"I don't like you in spite of the fact that you're a doctor and want to save lives." Derek says, putting his hand over Stiles'. "The fact that that's what you want to do is actually a giant reason why I like you."
Stiles makes a kind of strange half laugh at that, his hand squeezing Derek's knee on reflex.
"I like you because you care about your patients." Derek says. It's kind of getting easier to let this out now that he's on a roll. This must be what it feels like to be Stiles on a daily basis. "And because you're curious about everything you see. You take the time to really get to know the people that you're looking after. You remember things about them that aren't on a chart. It's what makes you a good doctor--because you are. But I think it also says a lot about the kind of man you are."
"You think I'm a good doctor?" Stiles asks in a small voice.
Derek leans forward and drags the younger man forward so they're resting on the couch pressed chest to chest. It's incredibly reminiscent of their time spent in the bunk beds of the hospital. Up this close Derek can clearly make out the moles and freckles spilling out over Stiles' face like constellations.
"I think you're a good everything. Except list-maker. You're awful at that. You didn't even mention my sweaters. I know you hate them." Derek responds. It feels a bit like his chest is compacting on itself.
"They make you look like you belong on a lobster boat." Stiles grumbles. "And with the beard, it's not a stretch."
Derek sighs. "You're not a perfect person yourself. You dirty talk in your sleep. That's why my sister called me to pick you up."
Stiles blushes. "I hope I didn't say anything too incriminating."
Derek rolls his eyes. "According to her, there was a lot of talk about stirrups. She called me before people started recording you as blackmail."
"She's good people." Stiles says to himself. "I should probably send her a muffin basket or something."
"Wine of the month club." Derek supplies.
Stiles nods. He tucks his head forward a bit so that his forehead is leaning against Derek's. "So that's it? That's what's going to break my resolve about whatever this is. I write a dumb list about you and then you tell me that I'm fine the way I am?"
"Yup." Derek says, wrapping his arms around Stiles and pulling him closer. "I wouldn't have to tell you this if you had any common sense."
He feels the vibration of Stiles' chest against his own as the younger man sighs. "Adding that to the list, you never cut me any slack."
"I cut you plenty of slack." Derek says, "You just get tangled up in like a puppy. This is whatever it is, whatever we want it to be. And if that means this goes on the way it has been, that's cool. But if it means you move a toothbrush into my bathroom and I actually get to see you on days we aren't working, that's awesome."
"You want to see me on our days off. Like regular boys who don't get blood in their hair." Stiles says with a dreamy quality to his voice. "And you can sing me to sleep with Let it Go. Best boy-shaped person ever."
Derek grumbles back. He's not going to refute it.
They lay there for a long time. It becomes really hard to keep his eyes open, even with the light spilling in through the window, he's falling asleep after a long shift.
They stay there on the couch, until hours later when Stiles rouses him by shaking his shoulder and then pulling him up the stairs. He and Stiles strip off their clothes and fall into the bed, curling up against each other. Derek has no idea what time it is, and no inkling if their conversation earlier had any real impact on how Stiles feels.
The man's not exactly an open book.
Still, he still surprises Derek by his next sentence. "That first time I met you, you were kind on the only reason I didn't loose my mind and break my hand punching something."
"A vending machine." Derek supplies. "It was a vending machine. I saved your chips."
"You did." Stiles says, "You saved my chips."
His words hold weight in the darkness. And something in Derek unfolds, feels at ease for the first time in months since the first time they slept together. He's not worried that Stiles will be gone when he wakes up.
And he turns out to be right. Hours later when Derek opens his eyes, Stiles is still asleep.
"Yeah, just like that Dr. Sexy. You naughty boy." Stiles slurs out in sleep, his lips all slack and pouting.
Derek bursts out laughing so hard that Stiles jerks awake violently, punching Derek in the face.