Chapter Text
There was something off about Alex’s new roommate. Sure, he was friendly, bouncing around both literally and figuratively to the point that it gave Alex a headache. But there was something about him, he was magnetizing, sure, but had an air of mystery that only the people he was closest to would even pick up on.
He was bright and energetic, quickly attracting people to him. He and Alex had become close friends with a couple students down the hall, Bill and Katie.
Still, every once in awhile, Stiles would clam up, and a look would cross his face that made him appear much older, honey eyes darkened with something sad. It never lasted long, blink and you’d miss it, and then Stiles would force a big smile and subtly try to change the subject. Alex would have never guessed Stiles was capable of being that subtle, but then again, Alex didn’t really know him that well.
Katie would poke and prod at Stiles, asking about his family, his friends back home, Bill would ask about his school, his hobbies, but Stiles would either make a joke to deflect or give an answer just vague enough to not arouse any further questions. It was odd, to say the least. Alex wondered if Stiles was embarrassed, maybe he didn’t have many friends at home? Maybe high school was rough for him. (Surely it couldn’t have been grades, Alex at least knew Stiles enough to be certain of that) Some kids become completely different people when they come to college, so maybe Stiles was just trying to create a new life for himself. Alex couldn’t fault him for that.
-
Alex wasn’t sure what to make of Stiles when he first came barging through the door.
The kid seemed as about as coordinated as a newborn deer, and gangly limbs flying everywhere as he fell to the floor (which Alex later learned was a frequent occurrence). He had boyish good looks and messy dark hair that only served to make him look more ridiculous falling on his ass. Alex lept from his desk to offer a hand, which Stiles took with a sheepish grin.
“Ha, well, at least I made an entrance,” He gave a cheeky grin and winked. He was tall, with dark hair and bright eyes. Something about him screamed ‘friendly’ with a dash of ‘mischief.’ “Stiles Stilinski. And you must be…?”
“Alex Rivera.”
“Well,” Stiles rolled up his sleeves and picked up his fallen suitcase and turned back to Alex, extending a hand with a lopsided grin, “Nice to meet you!”
As Alex looked down and clapped the other boy’s hand in his, he noticed the boy’s forearm was covered in bruises, some looking like fingerprints. Stiles must have noticed, and he quickly retrieved his hand and pulled down an ugly plaid sleeve to cover his arm.
“Sorry, I’ve got a few battle scars from playing lacrosse with my buddies. Well, they play, I’m more of a punching bag than anything,” Stiles laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Alex didn’t think much of it at the time, especially after he got roped into Stiles’ rapid-fire questioning as he unpacked. Okay, he was a little weird, Alex was pretty sure most people needed to breathe more between sentences than Stiles did, and half the time he would go rambling on about something completely random (Alex wasn’t even sure how they got from “what’s your major?” to a diatribe about Batman) but he was nice. At least he wasn’t the angry, surly, black-cloud of a roommate Alex had nightmares of.
And besides, everyone was a little weird. He was sure of it.
Alex looked back towards Stiles just in time to see a small stuffed wolf fall out of his suitcase. Stiles laughed and picked it up, reading the card attached to its neck with fondness in his expression before gently placing the stuffed animal next to his pillow.
--
Alex awoke to the sound of shuffling and a voiced whispering frantically…
“No, no, Okay, I said I’m coming… No, I’ll be there in 20, just keep him there,” A long pause and then “No, Derek, I’m serious! Don't. Wait unt-”
Alex recognized Stiles’ voice. He sounded upset. He could practically hear him pinch his nose. “God, okay… yeah, I will.”
There was more shuffling, Alex opened one eye just enough to see a dark figure shoving something into a backpack, and the neon blue clock which read ‘3:17 AM.’
“Stiles?” Alex rasped, voice strained from drowsiness, but apparently it didn’t make it to his roommate’s ear. Alex heard the door to their room close with a soft thud and he closed his eyes.
When he opened them again the morning light was shining through the window. Alex brushed the sleep from his eyes before glancing blurrily around the room. Stiles’ bed empty, and his side of the room in even more disarray than usual. Boxes were pulled out from under the bed, both the dresser and desk drawers were left partially open with clothes hanging out or thrown across the room. Alex had a brief moment of panic. Maybe they’d been robbed? No, Xbox and TV were still there. Alex glanced to his side of the room where everything seemed normal. He froze when he remembered the conversation he heard last night.
Jesus, what was that about? Did he just take off in the middle of the night? Something must have been really wrong. Alex had only known Stiles for a few weeks, but it was enough for him to feel the coiling of worry in his stomach. Where was he? Alex pulled out his phone, no new texts from Stiles. He shot him a quick message:
From: Alex
Are you okay?? Where are you?
No reply came immediately. Alex glanced at the clock, realizing he was running late, and ran to take the quickest shower he could manage. After getting dressed in record time, he grabbed his backpack and phone, only glancing to see Stiles’ reply.
From: Stiles
Yeah, everythings fine. Needed to help someone out. I’ll see you guys at dinner
Stiles really didn’t seem like the kind to skip class, Alex thought, so it must be important, right? That didn’t ease the prickling feeling of worry much, though. Alex bit the inside of his cheek and made his way to his first class. He would try to focus on that for now.
--
Unfortunately, seeing Stiles did little to ease his worry. Stiles was sitting alone at their usual table looking worse for the wear and nursing a coffee. Alex sat down across from him and Stiles gave him a small smile. He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept, which, now that he thought about it, he probably hadn’t.
Unsure of how to start with Stiles, he went with, “how are you feeling?”
Stiles still had his head hung low but looked up a little at him. “Oh, you know, making it through. Really worried about this history midterm I have comin-”
“What happened to you last night?” Alex blurted.
Stiles was silent, shifted in his seat, “just helping out a friend.” was all he gave, with that dark expression in his eyes.
It was clear that that was all Alex was going to get, so he signed, “Yeah, I heard that midterm was killer, but I have access some of the past years tests, my sister’s sorority has, like, a file on them. I can try to grab you some if you want.”
Stiles lifted his head a little, expression brightening and the usual humor back in his eyes. “Yeah, that would be awesome! What kind of other secrets do those sororities keep? Do they-” and Stiles continued on his usual rambling and million questions and they fell into their usual pattern again. A few minutes later Katie and Bill joined them, eager to share the news of the super-secret frat party they had snuck off to the night before.
While Stiles was listening intently to the exploits of his two friends, Alex noticed that he had a few long red scratches by his temple, almost at the hairline, and his lip was split towards the edge. Stiles glanced over at Alex and casually lifted his arm so he could lean against it, effectively covering most of the damage. Alex knew better than to push it, but he didn’t miss how his eyes flicked back to Alex every once in awhile.
Stiles’ kept a lot of things pretty close to the vest. He loved to goof around and make jokes but the second thing started to get more personal, he seemed to get uncomfortable. Alex could guess whatever happened last night was not a subject Stiles was going to budge on. Still, Alex couldn’t help but wonder. He was helping a friend? What was the name he’d said on the phone? Derek? Who needs help at three in the goddamn morning? Alex decides to file that away. It might be the only way of getting anywhere close to solving the puzzle that is Stiles Stilinski (and really? Even his name is weird).
Bill is gesticulating wildly as he recounts a particularly exciting game of beer pong he’d played. Stiles burst into laughter along with his friends, nearly in tears at the stupid antics of his friends.
“Yeah and then the guy wants a rematch, you know? To soothe his poor bruised ego, so- Stiles, you’re bleeding!” Bill said.
All three turned to Stiles, who touched a finger to his mouth. His split lip had opened and a few drops of blood were spilling out. Katie and Bill looked concerned but before they could say anything Stiles just smiled and said, “Looks like you’re going to have to tone down the humor, Billy boy, doesn’t look like I can handle it.” He put a hand to his lip but still managed to flash a charming grin that seemed to satisfy Bill, although Katie looked less convinced, although she remained silent about it.
Stiles and Bill got up to turn in early for their big history midterm in the morning, but Stiles cast one last, fleeting look at Alex with an expression he couldn’t read. Alex didn’t know what to make of that, but he had bad a feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.
Alex returned to their room sometime later to find Stiles starfished out on his bed, all the covers had been kicked off. At the sound of the door closing, Stiles groaned and turned onto his stomach, still not completely awake. Alex chuckled to himself, but any mirth flew out the door at the sight of Stiles’ t-shirt, bunched up to reveal a large purple bruise on his hip. Alex let out a hiss. Jesus, what was Stiles into? That wasn’t something you get running into a door. Was someone hurting him? Alex felt sick.
He didn’t get much sleep that night.
--
Alex caught up with Stiles after his exam. He was worried, but Stiles seemed ever more the chipper loudmouth he’d always been.
“Holy god,” he sighed dramatically. “No one ever asks me again about the history of pasteurization. NO ONE. I need to spend the weekend slowly turning to jello. My brain my explode, this is a health crisis.”
“I’m sure you did fine, Stiles,” Alex hummed. Bill exited the building, eyes wide and shell-shocked, looking even more haggard than Stiles. They laughed and joked about what a bitch the professor was, when Stiles’ phone rang. He smiled at the screen before putting the phone to his ear.
“Scott! Buddy, I’m so glad you called, I just had this history midterm and-”
He walked off to the courtyard and chattered away with Scott. A friend from home? Alex though. Probably. Stiles was gesticulating dramatically as he talked, grinning from ear to ear and laughing hysterically at something Scott said. Bill was looking over at him fondly. It was nice to see him so open and happy.
Stiles made his way back to the pair, looking rejuvenated and practically vibrating with glee. “HA! Okay. Yeah, I gotta go. Talk to you later, Isaac.” One last smile and he put his phone away.
“Who was that?” Bill asked with a grin.
“Just a couple buddies of mine,” he said dismissively before turning to face the pair and threw his arms in the air. “GOD I’m STARVING! I’m going to need a mountain of curly fries to make ups for the horror of that that professor inflicted on her poor innocent students,” He clapped a hand on both Bill’s and Alex’s shoulders, pushing them towards the dining hall.
Scott and Isaac. Friends from home, surely. Alex stored this information away. One more piece to the puzzle that was Stiles.
--
Katie was the next to notice Stiles’ strange behavior. Stiles bailed on a study session, citing needing to go visit his dad, and took off for a whole weekend.
Stiles came back with bruises around each wrist, irritated and red as if they were rope burns.
Katie shot a look at Alex, both questioning and alarmed. Alex shot her a look, shooking his head, clearly communicating “do not say anything.” Katie’s expression softened, but her face still betrayed her concern.
Stiles fidgeted with his sweater, pulling it down over his hands and balling his fists.
“Soooo... “ he started, “what shenanigans did I miss this weekend?” His cheery smile seemed a bit forced, only something someone who knew him well would notice. Stiles attempted his normal level of excitement, but the bag under his eyes and the weak smiles betrayed him. He looked exhausted.
Alex forced a grin and began recounting the weekend’s escapades. Katie stayed mostly silent but watched Stiles intently through her lashes as she picked at her lunch.
--
There were more and more calls from this “Derek,” each one seeming to put Stiles on edge. He’d bolt out of the room whenever the name flashed on his phone. Even though it always garnered a grin, Alex heard Stiles speak in hushed tones to Derek and always came back looking more somber than before.
Other times the calls seemed to make Stiles jittery, he would pace or hiss something into the phone, looking beside himself and upset. Katie claims she would hear him says “Please, Derek… don’t. Please…” pleading. Bill would catch him checking his phone dozens of times in an hour, as if waiting on some message with great apprehension.
Sometimes the calls would prompt Stiles to leave, even in the middle of the night, and Stiles would only supply vague excuses and then disappear for hours or days.
And the trio all noticed that whenever Stiles did come back, it was with new scrapes, bruises, and cuts. It made them all worry about the damage that they couldn’t see, what Stiles was hiding beneath layers of plaid and sarcasm.
--
“Okay, we have to talk about Stiles,” Katie said, slamming her art history textbook down, making a loud bang in the otherwise silent library.
Alex worried his lip, unsure how to start, Katie slumped back in her chair. The trio shared a somber beat before Bill piped up, “I mean, we’re all thinking the same thing, right? Someone’s doing that to him.”
“I don’t know, maybe there’s another explanation,” Katie looked miserable.
Bill barked out a laugh, “Yeah, like what? A fight club?”
“I don’t know! Maybe it’s a drug thing or -- I just can’t believe Stiles would, I just don’t understand how someone could do that. Stiles is so funny and smart...”
“If there was another explanation he would be trying to hide it. Anytime you mention something to him, the shuts you down. That’s not exactly how you act when you don’t have something to hide,” Alex said.
Katie nodded, looking ill. “So what,” she said quietly “someone’s beating him? His dad or…”
“I met his dad during orientation. He’s the sheriff where Stiles’ from. He seemed really nice.”
“Sometimes they do,” Bill muttered.
Alex sighed and said, “I don’t know, seems to me like it might be this Derek guy.” Alex was just stating what they were all thinking. “I mean, Stiles hasn’t said anything, I don’t even know if they’re dating but…”
“Every time he calls Stiles drops everything for him.” Bill supplied, looking profoundly uncomfortable.
“Yeah, even at god know what hour of the night. The truth is: Derek calls, Stiles leave, Stiles comes back looking like someone beat the shit out of him, and Stiles denies anything happened.”
“I just feel like there’s so much we don’t know about him. Like, personal stuff. He just doesn’t engage, you know?” Katie said quietly, tapping her pencil.
“Look, I found some stuff online. Signs, you know?” Bill stared at his phone. “Listen to this, ‘Signs someone you know is in an abusive relationship: seem afraid or anxious to please their partner, goes along with everything their partner says and does, checks in often with their partner to report where they are and what they're doing, receive frequent, harassing phone calls from their partner.’” he gave the group a pointed look before continuing, “‘ People who are being physically abused may have frequent injuries, with the excuse of ‘accidents,’ dress in clothing designed to hide bruises or scars, and frequently miss work, school, or social occasions, without explanation.’” Bill looked up from his phone.
“Okay so, yeah, that sounds bad,” Katie said. Alex agreed. He’d never seen an abusive relationship up close but this seemed to have all the hallmarks.
“So, what do we do?” Alex started. “Like, report it to the dean? The police? Derek’s not a student. And if we say something to the Beacon Hills police…”
“We’d be talking to his dad,” Bill finished.
“Shouldn’t his dad know?” Katie questioned. “Like, he’s a cop. How can he not know his son is getting beat up on the reg?”
“What, you don’t think a Sheriff’s son would know how to cover something up?” Alex snided,
“People don’t see what they don’t want to see,” Bill stated.
“And we don’t even know something is going on. Stiles could have a perfectly reasonable explanation for… everything,” Katie said.
“So, then, what do we do?” Alex questioned, almost beside himself.
“Nothing,” Bill said definitively, “Until we have real, solid proof that he’s in danger.”
Alex bit his lip, but it was hard to argue with Bill. Even if every one of his instincts was telling him that this Derek character was bad news, he couldn’t do anything until they were absolutely sure. Alex nodded in agreement and turned back to his textbook, trying to distract himself from Stiles’ well-being with criticisms of post-modernist art.
--
The thing about Stiles was that he was never lacking in intriguing quirks, Alex could at least say that much.
Alex walked into their room soaking wet from the literal downpour that had begun just as he exited the library (because of course it did). Stiles was sitting at his desk and appeared to be skyping with a redheaded girl. He looked around to see Alex looking like a drowned rat and had to stifle a laugh.
“Hey Alex, rough day buddy?” he said, grinning like a cheshire cat.
“God, you have no idea. McNamara was deadly today, you should have seen the way he interrogated a girl just for being late. I thought she was going to cry.” Alex draped himself on his desk chair dramatically.
The girl on the screen seemed amused by his misfortune and she chuckled. “Oh,” Stiles said, turning the computer to Alex, “Lydia, this is Alex. Alex, Lydia.” Alex gave the best smile he could given the fact that he was freezing and sopping wet.
“Charmed,” Lydia said in a tone that made it clear that she wasn’t.
Alex was not waiting another second to remove is soaked and dirty clothes, so he moved out of Lydia’s view while Stiles chatted away with her about the proper translation of latin something or other… Alex didn’t really know.
Alex pulled a grey henley off the floor, after stripping off his own rag of a t-shirt, and started to pull it on.
“NO!” Stiles gasped and quickly got up to pull the henley off Alex’s arms. It startled Alex and his confusion was probably pretty evident on his face.
“Sorry, this Derek’s. He… wouldn’t like anyone else wearing it.”
Alex gave him a quizzical look, eyebrows raised, but Stiles seemed to not want to discuss the topic further. He sat back at his desk and held the henley on his lap, grasping it tightly as if it were a security blanket. Alex noticed Lydia shot him an inscrutable look before continuing to battle Stiles on the proper translation of some obscure text.
Alex had other shirts.
--
One day Stiles, Alex, and Katie were chatting around outside the auditorium when their conversation was interrupted by someone bumping into Stiles. Literally. Ever graceful, Stiles flailed his arms, attempting to grab onto the brick wall of the building to support himself but only managed to scrape up his arm as he fell on his ass.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” the girl was wide-eyed, she looked like she was still in high school. Probably taking a tour, Alex though. “Here let me help you,” she blushed started picking up Stiles’ book.
“No problem, I’m a clutz on a good day, I need to hit the ground at least once a day or i’ll lose my title.” Stiles flashed a winning grin, and then pulled his arm over to examine the scrapes, many of which were colored with drops of blood. The girl looked up from Stiles’ books and then froze. She seemed to almost sniff (?) the air before going pale white and jumping back a few steps. Her eyes wide that in the sun, making them look almost golden.
“I am so sorry-” she started
Stiles eyes darkened fractionally and he repeated, “It’s okay.”
The girl, nodded quickly, looking sick to her stomach, and handed the books off to Stiles, leaning in just far enough for his fingers to grab the edges and then she was several paces away again. She gave one last remorseful look, edged with what almost seemed to be desperation. “I’m sorry.” She said one last time before practically running away from the scene.
“That was... really weird…” Katie muttered squinting after the girl. Alex and Bill gave each other confused looks.
Stiles shrugged, dusting off his arm. “She must not like the sight of blood.”
--
“So who’s this Derek guy?” Bill sat down at the table casually.
Stiles looked up from his book, blushing, “Just some guy. A friend from home,” he said, suddenly seeming to find his biology book very interesting.
“He sure calls you a lot for just being ‘some guy’,” Katie pried with a smirk.
“Well, I’m an interesting person, don’t you think?” Stiles smirked. “Lots of people are dying to get some of this,” he gestured to himself with a chuckle.
“Oh yeah, I know plenty of people who are dying to get some of that,” Katie said suggestively. “The thing is, Stiles, you mention Scott, Isaac, Lydia, your dad, lots of people. And somehow the name Derek hasn’t come up…”
Alex was watching intently now. “Yeah, why’re you trying to keep this guy from us?” He was going for casual but was probably missing by about a mile, to be honest.
“It’s nothing, guys. Really. He’s just someone I know. He hangs out with my friends. I barely know him. What’s his name again? Derek?” Stiles seemed to think he was hilarious. The tactic didn’t phase the wiles of Katie.
“Just someone from your hometown? Someone you’re definitely not dating, right? Someone who definitely doesn’t,” Katie gestured to Stiles’ body, “get all up in that?”
“No, no definitely not,” Stiles’ smiled, big enough that his textbook couldn’t hide it, his tone just riding the line of sarcastic and serious. Figures Stiles would be a master of something like that.
“So,” Bill said after a long beat, “what’s he like?” He nudge Stiles with his elbow.
Stiles seemed to preen a little, but shook his head, “doesn’t matter. Like I said, he’s no one, really,” he said with a sad smile.
“Aw, you’re not gonna tell us anything?” Bill whined.
“NOPE.” Stiles grinned cheekily, punctuating the word by slamming his book on the table. They must have crossed some kind of invisible line with Stiles, the dark look gave the trio a look was very clear: do not push.
“Just curious, you know. About you,” Bill muttered, stabbing at a piece of salad.
--
Another thing with Stiles was the books. Weird leather-bound volumes with runes and symbols and languages Alex couldn’t even recognize. Stiles mostly kept them hidden away under his bed, but in those rare moments Alex did sneak a look at what Stiles was reading, Stiles would discreetly close, cover, or otherwise obscure the book while trying to engage Alex in a subject totally unrelated. This was becoming old hat for Alex, he was learning to not be so taken with Stiles’ attempts to divert him and every time he did Alex was one step closer to figuring Stiles out.
Except that every new clue, every new puzzle piece, seemed to belong to completely separate puzzles. Each step he felt he got closer to Stiles the more he could see that he didn’t know. It was infuriating and intriguing.
--
Late one evening the dynamic duo of Katie and Bill managed to drag Stiles to party to get him engaged in typical college fraternizing for once is his life. Besides, it was Halloweekend. That practically mandates partying and irresponsible behavior.
“I don’t understand why you act like it is such an inconvenience to hang out with us,” Katie moaned, literally pulling Stiles bodily toward the house. She was wearing a cheap costume with cat ears because apparently Katie had no qualms advertizing how much she wanted to get laid. Stiles had refused to wear a costume but was convinced to wear devil’s horns so long as Bill wore a halo, which Bill agreed to because Bill is weak. Anyways, it wasn’t like anyone would care, approximately 2.5 seconds after arriving at the party they would be drunk so it really didn’t matter who had a good costume. Alex could already smell the cheap beer from there.
“Hang out with you? No. Dancing in a stranger’s basement while drinking shitty booze? I can think of a hundred other things I would rather be doing,” Stiles smart-mouthed.
Alex chuckled to himself at his roommate’s total unwillingness to act like he was an eighteen-year-old and not a thirty-something divorcee as he adjusted his own costume, a black shirt with a hammer insignia safety pinned to it. Alex wasn't big on the whole costume thing either. A group of college students should be cleverer, he mused.
“Filing your taxes will have to wait another day,” Bill smirked as they descended the stairs into a pit of sweaty college students holding red cups.
A game of beer pong and some shots toasting something the four of them knew nothing about, Stiles was still acting like a sourpuss. He was leaned up against a wall texting while Katie was singing a spirited rendition of Roxanne for a group of other drunk children. Alex just sipped his drink, whatever it was, and observed Stiles out of the corner of his eye. Alex couldn’t see for sure that Stiles was texting with “Derek,” but he really didn’t have to.
“Texting the boyfriend?” Bill said with a wink. He apparently had no qualms confronting Stiles on his behavior. Or maybe the alcohol had no qualms and Bill was just the mouthpiece. Alex was internally rubbing his hands together in anticipation, glancing around casually.
Stiles ducked his head to hide the small smile that spread on his face.
“Oh my god, you are!” Bill teased. Stiles cheeks turned red. “Let me see, let me see!” Bill tried to grab Stiles’ phone away, quickly turning it to a wrestling match.
“No, STOP!” Stiles giggled, full on giggled, hiding the phone behind his back. He couldn’t even hide the big smile on his face.
“What, we’re too boring for you. Is Derek going to be sad if you have more fun with us?” Bill teased.
“No, he’s just -- Ugh, fine.” Stiles made a big show of turning his phone off and putting it in his pocket. “Boyfriend free, okay? Let’s go check out this vodka-melon I’ve been hearing so much about,” He grabbed Bill and Alex by the wrists, pulling them upstairs while Katie chatted up a cute guy who just loved her voice so much, she’s sooooo talented.
Grabbing slices of the vodka-watermelon, Stiles’s sleeve lifted just enough to reveal an angry red scabs that ran across his shoulder, almost like fingernail scrapes. Bill made worried eye contact with Alex.
The pair said nothing.
--
“How about American Werewolf in London?” Asked Katie, innocently, the Sunday of Halloweekend. The were all piled into the small media lounge on their floor, just two doors down from Katie. Alex insisted that they needed a dark and quiet place to recover from the weekend’s festivities before he was ready to face the sun again, or like, ever (a sentiment that earned him several ‘vampire’ jokes).
“Ugh, too unrealistic.” complained Stiles with a dramatic sigh, draping himself over a tattered, but largely unstained, futon.
“Aren’t you minoring in Mythology?” Bill deadpanned.
“Yeah but not in hollywood bullshit,” came Stiles’ reply, quick as ever.
They settled on Silver Bullet, much to Stiles’ dismay. Alex managed to coax him out of pouting by throwing gummy worms at his head until he relaxed, plucking one from his hair and popping it in his mouth.
Throughout the movie Stiles continued to make remarks as to the “realism” and “special effects” (“Seriously? Are they even trying?”). Apparently suspending disbelief was out of Stiles’ repertoire.
He made a mental note to never invite Stiles to a creature feature again.
--
“I swear to god, Stiles, if you trump this I will rip your head off,” Alex growled as he was looking at losing at cards for the fifth time in a row.
“Ha! I’ve heard worse,” Stiles smirked as he played a winning hand, again.
The regular gang was hanging out in Bill’s room while his roommate was away visiting his parents. He went over there every weekend, which Alex thought was super weird. How is he supposed to get the full college experience without hopping frat parties on Friday night and commiserating over hangovers Saturday morning? Poor chump was missing out.
The group was all tipsy on cheap vodka and diet soda enjoying a nice night in. Bill taught them all a complicated card game from his home in Kansas that Alex didn’t completely understand. The vodka didn’t help.
Alex leaned his head back against Bill’s bed and moaned, “This is impossible! Why can’t we just play poker like normal people?”
Bill smacked Alex’s head and grabbed the water bottle of vodka Alex had lifted from from a frat party (suck it Sigma Chi) and poured it into a tumbler. He took a swig of straight vodka before his face betrayed the fact that that was obviously a mistake. Amature. Serves him right. Stupid card game.
“You okay, Stiles?” Katie asked quietly. Despite his winning streak, Stiles was uncharacteristically silent. He was looking at his drink intently and swaying side to side. Like he couldn’t handle a couple drinks? What kind of college student was he?
“No, sorry. It’s just that, you know, my friends don’t drink really and…” He trailed off, but the rest was clear. Derek doesn’t drink.
Stiles’ phone buzzed and Alex groaned internally. Why did Stiles need to always be so damn accessible to everyone but them? It seemed like Stiles was always at the beck and call of whoever back home was texting him that day, and more often than not it was Derek.
Stiles opened the text and his whole demeanor changed. He ducked his head and put a hand over his mouth to cover the very obvious smile that stretched across his face.
“Whatcha got there, buddy,” Alex teased. A blush crept over Stiles’ cheeks.
“Sorry, it’s just… Derek’s coming to visit,” he said, looking up through his lashes, still trying to hide his smile, pretty unsuccessfully too because he was practically vibrating joy. Alex’s heart sank.
“When?” Katie asked, doing her best to make her voice steady and pleasant.
“Next weekend,” Stiles’ eyes were shining. He seemed almost giddy.
“Does that mean we finally get to meet this mystery man?” Alex asked cooly.
“Yeah,” Katie chimed in, “Why don’t we all go to dinner together? You know, show him the town? I know all three of us have a million questions we’d like to ask him,” she added, and, really? Katie could use a course on subtlety.
Stiles stilled, his entire demeanor changed and something flashed in his eyes. It wasn’t quite fear, apprehension?
“He’s um… not really much of a people person,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, looking very uncomfortable all of a sudden.
“What? You don’t think he’d like us?” Alex teased.
“Naw man, it’s just that… he’s kinda intense, you know? He’s coming to see me, he just, might not want to share is all.”
“You think he won’t like us?” Katie asked. Alex bit his lip.
“Like I said, not so good with people,” Stiles winked. “But… I think I might just be charming enough to convince him.”
Alex laughed, “you’re always charming, bro.”
“You know it,” Stiles said, distinctly lacking the bravado a statement like that needed. He proceeded to refill his drink and took a not-so-subtle drag from it before plastering on a happy face and looking back at his cards.