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English
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Published:
2014-03-28
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971
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1/1
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Twenty-Five Pillows

Summary:

Derek is an employee at a furniture store and Stiles buys a shit ton of pillows.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Derek Hale couldn't believe his eyes.

He'd seen his share of strange things working as an employee at a second-rate furniture store. People who bought nothing more than a single spoon, people who had attempted to buy the entire couch department, and even one man who had insisted on purchasing only half a cupboard (but was still willing to pay the full price). But never before had a customer wheeled in a shopping cart stacked with over a dozen boxes of pillows.

Derek couldn't even see his customer, who was attracting a lot of curious looks from passers-by at other checkout lines.

A scrawny kid's head popped out from behind one of the boxes, grinning at Derek ruefully

"Hello." He said.

Derek sighed. "How many pillows do you have there?"

"Uh... twenty-five?"

Derek's eyes bulged out of their sockets and his sister Cora - who was watching him from the next counter - snickered. Suppressing another sigh, he hauled one of the boxes up to check the price. Some people really liked having throw pillows around the house, he guessed, prying the box open. Then he stared. They weren't even throw pillows. They were regular fucking bed pillows.

He looked up at the sheepish kid. "Are all twenty-five the same?"

"Yeah."

Christ.

He began lifting more boxes up, checking their contents to make sure that the pillows really were all the same. It wouldn't be the first time people had lied about what furniture they had in their boxes, thinking they could get away with a cheaper bill. Did they really think he wouldn't check?

By the seventh box, however, it dawned on him that the boy hadn't been lying and that he was, in fact, about to purchase twenty-five of the exact same kind of pillow. And he wasn't even buying any pillowcases, unless he had a supply of twenty-five extra pillowcases elsewhere.

Meanwhile, the other customers in line were drifting off to other lines, or were peering over to get a better look. Even Cora's customers couldn't help but stare with a certain fascinated wonder as Derek pulled out the sixteenth pillow to examine it.

"So..." The boy shifted from one foot to the other, peeking at Derek's employee ID. "Derek Hale."

"Yes."

"How long have you been working here?"

He shrugged, shutting the tenth box. "Just a few months."

"I haven't seen you around town. Beacon Hills is pretty small."

"I just moved." He said curtly. "And I don't go out much."

"Well, you-"

"That's twenty-six pillows." Derek informed him.

The boy grimaced, disappointed at being cut off. "I only need twenty-five. Can you just... put the extra one away?"

"Sure." Derek grumbled, tossing a pillow aside before closing the last box. "That'll be 125 dollars. Will you pay by cash or card?"

"Card" The boy fumbled in his pockets. "Uh... hang on."

Derek waited as the boy rummaged through his pocket, accidentally letting a bar of Reese's fall out.

"Oops." He bent down to pick it up, and some loose change fell down again.

"Oops." He said again, straightening up with a goofy smile at Derek.

He was actually kind of cute, Derek thought, if a little weird, and a little too forward for his liking.

The boy placed both the Reese's bar and the coins on the counter, yanking a tattered-looking wallet out of his pocket. He handed Derek his card, still wearing a smile.

Derek frowned at the piece of plastic in his hand. "This says... you're..."

"Stiles." He cut in quickly. "Call me Stiles."

He grinned again, and, much to Derek's annoyance, his heart leapt a beat.

"Do you need help transporting these?" He asked, looking down at the machine to avoid having to meet Stiles' gaze.

"Nah, I've got-" Stiles paused, ducking around the cart to squint at the parking lot. "My jeep isn't here yet."

"What?"

"Scott- my friend - he borrowed my jeep. He's not back yet. But he should be, since he said he was just going to drop Allison home and come right back."

Stiles whipped out his phone (how he had managed to find that amongst the mess in his pockets, Derek didn't know) and began typing furiously.

"Teenagers." Derek muttered as he printed out the bill.

"Sign here please."

Stiles was still typing. "One sec."

Derek leaned in a little, uncomfortably aware that there were still a few customers staring. "You're holding up the line."

"Sorry. Sorry!" He looked up, then looked at the enormous pile of boxes. "Do you mind if I just.. wait here?"

Derek blinked.

"I can't carry all of these myself, and Scott's not here yet, and I have nowhere else to put these." He rushed apologetically. "Can I just wait till my jeep gets here?"

Derek sighed. Rule number one, his manager always told him, was to never deny a customer. "Sure."

"Great!" Stiles beamed, rolling the cart to the side and hopping over the side of the counter to sit on the stool next to where Derek was standing.

"Are you just going to sit here till your friend gets here?" Derek demanded.

"Sure." Stiles said with a twinkle in his eye. "Unless your shift ends and you want to go get a coffee or something."

Derek was sure that Stiles could see his face turning red, and he turned away and frowned as the next customer placed a table lamp on the counter.

"Or," Stiles offered, as he realised that the line was growing longer now that he had finished his purchases. "I could go get coffee for both of us from the shop opposite."

Still not meeting his eyes, Derek responded after a short pause. "Cappuccino. If you have any money left."

Stiles practically jumped off of his stool, grinning from ear to ear.

"I always have enough money for a date."

Notes:

I don't know what this is