Chapter Text
Derek had never taken much notice of the old apartment building that stood next his. When he’d had first signed the lease for his loft, signature scrawled messily beneath Isaac and Jackson’s, he hadn’t spared a single thought for the massive windows that stared into the apartment across from them. That peace had lasted for all of three weeks and a few days before the vacant, semi-neighbouring apartment was rented to someone.
Late on a Wednesday night, Derek strolled into his apartment with enough Chinese food in hand to feed an army--or three hungry werewolves. Unlike how he expected, though, Isaac and Jackson didn’t immediately rush him to try and claim their portions. Instead, it took a particularly loud toss of his keys into the bowl before either of the betas reacted to his presence at all. “Der, ge’ in here,” Jackson called, sounding ridiculously distracted after Derek had gone for the good Chinese food, even though the restaurant owner always pinched his cheeks and cooed over him.
“What are you looking at?” Derek huffed. He walked through the living room, where his roommates had dragged their loveseat over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked over an alleyway into the other apartment. Isaac, with his constant and instinctual need to seek platonic physical affection from his pack, was curled into Jackson’s side with a blanket thrown over them. Grumpily, Derek dropped the plastic food bags onto the coffee table with a thunk. Isaac made a small noise of protest, though he didn’t tear his gaze away from whatever had captured his and Jackson’s complete attention.
“C’mere,” Jackson ordered, automatically using his arms, wrapped around around Isaac, to pull them over and leave room for Derek to squeeze in on the loveseat. With his eyebrows scrunched, the alpha kicked his shoes off under the coffee table and ambled over to join his roommates. “What is wrong with him?” Jackson asked, glaring out the window. Confused, Derek followed his gaze across the alley and into the recently vacant apartment. Now, in place of the bare skeleton of a home that he’d last seen, Derek’s eyes landed on an absolutely stunning man with hair like chestnuts and deep, earthy eyes like soil after torrential rains. Whenever the sunlight hit him, those hot chocolate eyes turned into pools of golden amber.
“He’s beautiful,” Derek muttered. It was an insignificant utterance, one that should’ve passed unnoticed as a temporary moment of weakness.
“What?” Jackson snorted derisively. For possibly the first time, Derek really wished he didn’t consistently keep the company of werewolves with supernatural hearing. “Derek,” Jackson said, in his attempt at a flat tone that never quite sounded right. “He’s flailing. And lip-syncing.” The beta stared with judgmental eyes at Derek while the older werewolf pretended not to see, in favour of watching their new semi-neighbour. “Derek,” Jackson repeated. “He just did a single ladies move and fell. He’s on his ass on the floor and still singing.”
“I can see,” Derek grumbled.
“Clearly you can’t!” Jackson retorted. “You just called him beautiful.”
“You and Isaac moved the couch to creepily watch him through the window,” Derek countered. He decided to ignore the fact that he was settled on the couch next to them.
“I’m here to laugh at him,” Jackson said, sticking his nose up.
“I think he’s pretty,” Isaac chimed in helpfully.
Out of retorts, Derek huffed and walked away. “You forgot your food,” Jackson called after him.