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Being a college student in a rural town can be frustrating at times. Especially when one’s schedule tends to run late into the night while the town shuts down religiously at nine o’clock. It’s a night a few weeks into the semester before Stiles discovers a small convenience store that’s open All day, every day! according to the sign. This also happens to be the evening before his first big exam, so Stiles doesn’t feel quite so guilty for stocking up entirely on Red Bull and Reese’s cups. Or, he doesn’t feel guilty until he gets to the checkout and comes face to face with the hottest cashier he’s ever seen.
Stiles isn’t sure if he should pray to this Greek god for good favor on his exam or ask for workout tips. Glancing at the conveyor belt, he’s pretty sure the first step would be to cut off his clear addiction to energy drinks and chocolate-covered peanut butter. Unfortunately that’s just not a pleasure he’s willing to part with. The cashier raises one thick eyebrow at Stiles’ purchases, his judgement clear.
“Not all of us can afford steroids, you know,” Stiles jokes as he reaches for his wallet. He’s already dead on his feet, so he snags one of the Red Bulls from the pack and pops the lid, drinking while the cashier rings up his items.
The guy—Derek, according to his name tag—scoffs at Stiles’ comment, one side of his mouth quirking up slightly. He doesn’t say anything though, aside from announcing the total. Once Stiles pays, Derek hands him the bag of his purchases and his receipt with a scripted, “Thanks for shopping at Hale’s.”
Stiles sifts through the handful of Reese’s he’d bought, grabs one package, and tosses it at Derek. Clearly not expecting it, Derek catches the candy awkwardly against his chest.
As Stiles exits the store he calls back, “Lighten up on the spinach, Popeye.”
***
The next time Stiles drops by Hale’s, it’s because it’s the closest store within walking distance of his apartment. His poor Jeep is currently out of commission, which means he’s stuck on foot for the next few days. Stiles doesn’t spend much time wandering around, he just grabs what he needs and approaches the register. Derek the cashier is back, and the thick Eyebrow of Judgement is already creeping its way up his face.
Stiles doesn’t say anything at first. He drops the latest issue of Cosmo, two pints of chocolate ice cream, and a bag of kitty litter onto the conveyor belt, then grabs a package of Reese’s as an afterthought. Looking down at his purchases though, he can see why someone might get the wrong idea.
“I’m not as weird as my purchases may suggest, you know,” Stiles says.
Derek doesn’t even look up as he starts ringing up the items. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Dude, your face says it all.”
Derek’s mouth does that small twitch again, looking like he’s holding back a smile. Stiles wonders what the guy would look like if he actually did smile. It’d probably be like a nuclear bomb to his heart, if Derek’s good looks are anything to go by. And they totally are.
“Go on,” Stiles prods. “Give me your worst.”
“Crazy cat lady,” Derek guesses after a few moments of looking at the items before him. “Er, cat man,” he amends as an afterthought.
Stiles shakes his head. “Okay, I’ll give you that. But no. My friend just broke up with a major douchebag, so she needs a pick-me-up.”
“And that requires cat litter?” Derek asks. His face clearly says the crazy part of his guess might still be true.
Stiles laughs. “Nah, my Jeep started leaking oil, so now there’s a big stain on the street. According to Google, kitty litter’s like Oxy-Clean for that shit.”
Derek hums his assent, but then walks away from the register, carrying the bag of litter with him. Stiles is left standing there confused, watching as Derek returns with a different bag and rings it up.
“You want the non-clumping litter,” Derek explains. “Otherwise you’ll have a bigger mess than you started with.”
“Oh,” Stiles says. “Thanks. I’m Stiles, by the way.”
“Derek.”
Derek just upgraded from the local eye candy to someone who knows completely random shit off the top of his head. Stiles thinks maybe this guy was made just for him.
***
Stiles doesn’t return to Hale’s for another two weeks. College has been kicking his ass and he’s hardly had any free time. Between settling into a new town, getting his own schoolwork done, and convincing Scott that a fifty page reading is, in fact, par for the course, he’s been pretty busy.
So he and Scott had thought having a few friends over to their apartment this past weekend would be a fun stress-reliever. Which, it had been, until the get-together had morphed into more of a full-blown party and left a lot of mess. Stiles hates cleaning up messes.
He carries his basket up to the register and starts unloading it onto the belt: bleach, duct tape, black trash bags, plunger, Reese’s.
“Hey, Derek,” Stiles greets casually. He’s starting to wonder if anyone else even works at this small store. Not that he minds.
“Stiles,” Derek acknowledges with a small nod.
And maybe Stiles feels a small flush of happiness that Derek remembers his name. He looks up when Derek keeps speaking.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were preparing to dump a body.”
Stiles bursts into laughter. That was the last thing he was expecting Derek to say.
“You’re already accustomed to my strange ways?” he asks.
“So it would seem,” Derek responds. He continues ringing up Stiles’ items.
“Well, rest assured, I have no dead bodies to dispose of,” Stiles says. He looks over all of his purchases with a sigh. “I do have a big clean up though. Our party last night got a little out of control.”
Derek eyes the plunger at that, a disgusted look crossing his face.
“Drunk college students don’t necessarily use common sense when they find a rat in the toilet,” Stiles explains. That had certainly been a strange highlight to the night. Trying to corral a bunch of screaming girls out of the bathroom while on the verge of puking himself had been a trial of its own. He still didn’t understand why girls felt the need to congregate in bathrooms.
Derek bags the items then looks back up at Stiles. “Are you telling me there is currently a rat stuck in your toilet?”
“I may or may not be confirming that statement, yes.”
“And you thought a plunger would be the best solution?”
Stiles scoffs happily. “Do you have a better idea? And it’s dead, by the way, so don’t go all PETA on me.” After a few beats of silence Stiles laughs, barely restraining from pointing a finger at Derek. “Yeah, thought so. Plunger it is.”
Derek rolls his eyes. “Your total is thirteen forty-seven.”
Stiles smirks as he fishes the cash out of his wallet, paying Derek and then taking back the offered change.
“Good luck with your mess,” Derek says.
Stiles raises his hand with a wave and exits the store.
***
“Isn’t it a bit too late for that?”
Stiles looks up, surprised, because Derek hasn’t ever talked unless Stiles initiated the conversation. He follows Derek’s gaze to his purchases and can’t help the blush that creeps up his cheeks. Stiles holds up his hands.
“Woah, Derek, hold up. No, no, no.”
Stiles should’ve known there’d be a judgemental eyebrow coming. In hindsight, buying condoms and pregnancy tests together could never give anything but a bad impression. But that doesn’t make him any less mortified. He points at the pregnancy tests.
“Dude, that’s not for me. Well, obviously it’s not for me,” Stiles explains, arms flailing uselessly as he gestures towards his crotch. “But it’s not for my girlfriend either. It’s for my friend’s girlfriend. I don’t even have a girlfriend.”
Derek’s face clearly says this explanation isn’t helping Stiles’ case.
“Not that I couldn’t have a girlfriend!” Stiles says. “If I wanted to. Which I don’t. But I could.”
“I’m sure,” Derek says dryly.
“Well, good. Glad that’s clear. Because those condoms? Mine. All for me.”
Stiles could really just die right then. He avoids making any more eye contact with Derek as he pays for his purchase. A quick trip to the store has suddenly become his worst nightmare. Derek finally finishes counting Stiles’ change just as he’s wishing the floor would open up and save him from his complete and utter humiliation. At least nobody else is there to witness Stiles’ horrendous word vomit.
It isn’t until he’s sitting in his Jeep outside that he sees the Reese’s candy package slipped into his bag, right next to the box of condoms. His face heats up again, but this time not from embarrassment.
***
Stiles finds himself frequenting the store pretty often over the rest of the semester. He buys everything from his weekly Ramen quota, to number two pencils for exams, to an entire shelf of plastic forks (needed for the ridiculous prank war he and Scott had started with the douchebags across the street). And, of course, his Reese’s addiction. A guy can’t function properly without those.
Every time he’s there, Stiles finds some reason to strike up a conversation, until he’s sometimes visiting the store when he doesn’t really need to buy anything at all. So, yeah, maybe he’s got a bit of a crush on Derek, but he thinks he’s being subtle. Maybe. Kind of. Not really at all. But it doesn’t seem to matter how obvious he’s being, because Derek gives him zero indication of whether or not he’s interested in what Stiles has to offer.
So, Stiles figures, maybe he just needs to take the leap. It’s the last week of the semester, and Stiles has just finished his last final. He’ll be heading back to Beacon Hills in a few days and, while the town’s only about an hour away, he supposes this will probably be his last chance to talk with Derek until January unless he does something about it.
“Hot date tonight?” Derek asks.
It’s the first time Stiles has been in Hale’s during the day, and to be honest he hadn’t expected Derek to be working. He’d actually been counting on the opposite. Derek always seemed to work night shifts. Still, let no one say Stiles can’t roll with the punches. He takes a deep breath and finishes unloading his basket: dessert mix, sparkling cider, roses, and his standard package of Reese’s cups.
“I hope so,” Stiles says, somewhat shakily.
Smooth.
“What’s the plan?” Derek starts scanning and bagging.
Stiles shrugs. “I think I’ll just stick to the basics. A little wining and dining.”
“I’m sure she’ll love it,” Derek assures him.
“I hope he does.”
Derek glances up in surprise, searching his face as though he’s expecting Stiles to laugh and deliver a punch line.
“He’s totally out of my league,” Stiles continues, because he’s never been one for letting silence hover. “And I don’t even really know if he’s into dudes or not.”
Derek clears his throat, looking away. “I think it’s safe to say, if he agreed to a date.”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t exactly asked him out yet.” Stiles looks down, rubbing his shoe against a scuff mark on the floor.
“What’s the holdup?”
“You know,” Stiles says, “that’s a good question.”
He looks up, catching Derek’s gaze, silently pleading with him to give Stiles any kind of sign that he might be interested. The telepathy thing doesn’t seem to be working though, so after another few seconds of indecision pass, Stiles simply leans over the barrier and pulls Derek into a kiss. It’s awkward, he only catches the corner of Derek’s mouth and the cash register is digging into his hip, and the old lady behind him in line won’t stop staring. Stiles is about to pull away when Derek suddenly grabs both sides of Stiles’ head and pulls him closer, tilting his head until suddenly they fit perfectly.
It’s really a lot less graceful than he’d planned for in his head, but Derek doesn’t seem to mind. The kiss stays chaste, but it’s soft and warm and everything Stiles could have hoped for. Derek seems to realize that they’re standing in the middle of the store soon after, and he releases his hold on Stiles and pulls back. Stiles knows he has a silly grin on his face, but he can’t seem to help it.
“You know, Reese’s are made to share,” Stiles says. “It can get kind of lonely eating both of them on my own.”
“I get off in an hour,” Derek says.
Stiles’ smile broadens, and he pulls a rose out from the wilting bouquet and hands it to Derek. “You’d better prepare yourself. I am the master of wooing.”
Derek gives him the first real, full smile Stiles has seen, and his breath catches slightly in his throat. He knew that smile would knock his socks off.
“Looking forward to it,” Derek says.