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Stiles sighed as he hitched his messenger bag over his shoulder while struggling to keep his coffee upright while zipping up his sweatshirt to protect his t-shirt from the dropping rain. He was...not late . Well not entirely. He and his group were supposed to meet at 8:30 to go over the last of the notes for their presentation. It was 8:45. They went on at 9 and he could see campus in the distance. But Stiles had this. He was a master bullshitter. And if he could bullshit anyone, it was a group of new incoming freshmen. He dodged his way through the crowd, student ID clenched in between his teeth, the condensation from his iced drink freezing his hand. He finally made it passed the front desk, waving to Oscar, the security guard as he turned the corner. He was on the home stretch now. Thank God. He quickened his pace, stuffing his ID in his bag and tugging at his rising sweatshirt. He was finally about to take a sip of his macchiato aka the nectar of the Gods when a large hand reached out from behind him and plucked it from his fingers. He was too stunned to speak, eyes wide, mouth open. Another hand settled on the small of his back, turning him around and leading him into the lecture hall.
“Um.”
“This way,” a gentle voice gruffed out.
Stiles finally turned to get a full view of the thief. And... fuck . This is why college is so unfair . Because this guy? He was...he had the be the most attractive human being that Stiles had ever seen. And that includes porn, thank you very much. And he went here . To Stiles’ college. And he had never ever had the privilege to lay eyes on him before. He also probably apart of one of the Sports Teams or Clubs, which was the only group of people on campus that Stiles actively steered clear of. And that just simply had to do with the fact that they almost always overlapped with the Fraternities on campus. He had his reasons for avoiding them as well. It included a lot of alcohol, accidentally crossfading, a spiked drink and hooking up with one Jackson Whittemore his Freshman year. It had been...and ugly night. Either way...this God...he means guy. This guy is here. And Stiles desperately prays for Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon, come fall time.
“My--my coffee,” he stutters pathetically.
The guy chuckles, “Sorry, no food or drinks allowed during the Orientation. They’ll have refreshments throughout the day, I swear.” He smiled and Stiles fucking melted .
But wait...his coffee.
“No, I--I need it . It’s my life line. I’ll literally die and oh God. I’m late and--”
“It’s alright. Here. Just sneak in through the back. No one will notice. There’s still a little time before everything starts.”
“Hey, I--,” And then it kind of hit him. Densely. But it hit him. This guy thought Stiles was a Freshman . Stiles Stilinski. Twenty year old Junior. Five foot ten was an underaged Freshman (granted the guy was at least six foot and looked to be in his later twenties, complete with a stupidly attractive stubble beard and all and so what Stiles couldn’t grow hair to save his life. He looked scrappy with facial hair, anyway). But, um? He was starting his Masters Degree . He wasn’t worried about English Composition 101 or Intro to Psych classes. Could you say embarrassing please? On three, “Oh. Oh no. I’m--”
“No need to be nervous. It’s all about making friends. It might seem a little corny, but you should try to enjoy it. You only get one. Everyone’s new here and on the same page.”
And the guy was so just so Goddamned genuine and Stiles didn’t want to know what would happen if he told this wonderful creature that he was wrong. So he didn’t. He just sighed and allowed the muscled human behind him to show Stiles the way into the back of the lecture hall (a thing he had to have done before almost 50 times in his life by now), all the while, he mourned his fucking five dollar coffee that was, undoubtedly lost for good.
“What’s your name?”
“Stiles.”
“Stiles,” it rolled off his tongue in a way that made his heart lurch. The slight barely there lisp just added to the attraction, “I’m Derek. If you see me around campus, don’t be afraid to stop me. Feel free to ask me anything, whenever.”
“Okay,” Stiles squeaked, “thanks.”
With one last smile, Muscle God--Derek--turned on his heel and walked back out into the atrium, leaving Stiles 100% wide mouthed and speechless, for perhaps the first time in his life. He patted around for his phone to check the time. Lydia was going to kill him . Slowly. He stuffed everything back in his pocket. Time to make the great escape. He waited a few minutes before he made his move. He was murmuring The Great Escape theme song under his breathe as he slipped back out into one of the back hallways. It just happened to be the same hallway that Derek and another girl were walking down. All three of them froze, eye contact darting from one to the other to the next. A slow smile formed on the blonde’s face. It was predatory. Stiles gulped.
“Where you going frosh?”
“Um...”
“Stiles?” He waved his fingers awkwardly at him. He could feel the red heat encompassing his face. And just great, “What are you doing out here?” Derek continued.
“Get back in there, fresh meat.”
He flickered his gaze to the blonde, “I don’t think you’re supposed to talk to the Freshman like that.”
Derek sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Erica.”
“Whatever,” she glared, tossing a curl over her shoulder and crossing her arms.
“I have to, um, go” he hitched a thumb over his shoulder, and was already walking backwards to leave when Derek grabbed his other wrist.
“Are you really that nervous?” His gaze immediately softened and Stiles could. Not. Fucking. Breathe.
“I’m not a Freshman.”
Derek let out a bark of laughter.
“I’m serious.”
“Oh please,” Erica smirked, “You are the textbook definition of a College Freshman.”
“Hey!”
“Stiles,” Derek chuckled, “It’s really not that bad. I promise.”
“Yeah, I know. Because I had my own orientation three years ago.”
“I think I would have remembered you,” Derek smiled.
At that, Stiles pulled back blushing like a fucking virgin. What? And suddenly Derek was blushing, too.
“I...I just--”
Erica cackled . She was a witch, Stiles was sure of it.
“Wow,” she breathed, “talk about UST.”
“Shut up,” Derek worried his bottom lip between his teeth and Stiles just wanted to climb this guy like a tree.
Like...he probably wore soft sweaters in the winter and wore reading glasses and was family orientated and baked fucking like pies or something, and did morning runs and read the paper, all the while being able to pick Stiles up and take him apart fucking slowly and push him up against walls and fuck him so hard the only thing he could remember was Derek’s name and...God.
“Sorry,” Derek muttered.
“Trust me...it’s fine. Like...really really fine.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Uh, hello? Yeah, Freshman Derek. His balls probably haven’t even dropped yet.”
“Seriously. I don’t think you’re supposed to talk to the Freshman like that.”
“No, she’s right.”
“My balls have dropped, thank you very much.”
“No I...I mean...”
“Stiles!” Lydia’s shrill voice cut through the conversation.
They all spun to watch her walk towards them. Still looking utterly beautiful in just her Student Leader t-shirt that matched Stiles’ and jeans.
“We’re supposed to go on in five minutes. Where the fuck have you been?”
“I...” he gestured wildly to the other two.
Lydia looked at them like she was just noticing them for the first time.
“Derek. Erica,” she greeted uninterestedly, before turning to Stiles, “Come on .”
The two of them were looking on in piqued curiosity.
“I...I really am not a freshman,” he tried to explain to them one last time.
“What are you talking about?” Lydia scoffed, “Of course you’re not. Did you hit your head again? I can’t let you out there if you’re going to be spouting nonsense.”
“I didn’t hit my head!”
“Whatever,” she took his arm and dragged him down the hallway, “Come on. Allison and Danny are waiting.”
Stiles huffed, trying to gather himself enough to match her pace instead of being manhandled. And...speaking of being manhandled...
He turned to wave to the company he was departing, as it would only be polite as he was being whisked away by a very bossy pretty lady, but instead of turning to see twin faces of confusions, he caught Derek shamelessly checking out his ass. Fuck pleasantries. He threw a wink over his shoulder instead, enjoying the way the blush ran down Derek’s neck as hazel green eyes met his.
And if Stiles saw Derek on campus come fall and stopped him to ask him to coffee, well...he did say feel free to ask anything...Didn’t he?