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"DUDE! I got a date!"
Derek shuddered. He seriously hated it when Stiles called him dude. There were so many OTHER things he could be called, but that was the one that seemed to top the hyperactive human's vocabulary.
"That's...great?"
Judging by the way Stiles was vibrating when he came into the loft, he assumed that was the right response. Rolling his eyes as Stiles flopped into the overstuffed arm chair Lydia had insisted on adding to the living space, he sighed.
"With who?"
"Danny."
"The lacrosse guy?"
"Dude...he's so much more than that. He's hot upon hot, and smart. Like...gives me a run for my money smart. We're going to grab dinner, maybe stop by The Jungle for some clubbing. Who knows where else it may end up."
A dopey smile crossed Stiles' face.
"Don't worry though. I'll still stop by next weekend and help you with your taxes if you're still willing to proof my paper on anthropomorphic tribes of South America. I'm not gonna forget my dark and brooding friend just because I'm getting my mack on."
Derek's full and impressive eyebrows made a twitch as he mouthed, "Get my mack on..."
A little louder, he asks, "Who even says that anymore?"
"Shhh. I'm swooning. Consider this some swoon."
Derek merely rolled his eyes and went back to his brooding while Stiles babbled on about how Danny asked him out. Flicking the radio on, he cringed as a country song came pouring out.
I've known a few guys who thought they were pretty smart
But you've got being right down to an art
You think you're a genius-you drive me up the wall
You're a regular original, a know-it-all
Oh-oo-oh, you think you're special
Oh-oo-oh, you think you're something else
Flicking the radio back off, he got to his feet.
"I'm going for a run. You can let yourself out."
Heading to the door to the loft, he wasn't at all surprised when Stiles didn't make a move.
***
Derek had his taxes laid out on the table, and his laptop up and running with Stiles' emailed paper in the word processor. Two jack and cokes were poured, and a plate of breadsticks was sitting at the table.
"You heard." Stiles all but snarled his somewhat rhetorical question.
"News travels fast."
"Seriously. A percent and a half and he thinks he's SOO much better than me. And those hands, Ugh! You'd think someone whose been out more than me and longer than me would at least have an idea of what to do. For someone so smart he's SO fucking stupid. Book smart? Yes. People smart. Oh fuck no. That for me?"
Downing his Jack and coke as he pulled his jacket off, he smiled a smile of relief as Derek poured a refill.
"Thanks Dude. Turn on the radio, lets get to this."
Okay, so you're a rocket scientist
That don't impress me much
So you got the brain but have you got the touch
Don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright
But that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night
That don't impress me much
Derek flipped it off the country station, knowing he'd never live it down if anyone figured out that he actually liked it. Something about cute guys in cowboy hats and the promise of spurs that gave him a happy.
Some hours of soft rock later, Derek unhunched himself from the laptop as Stiles handed him the completed tax forms. Reading through them, he looked at the paper, then at Stiles.
"You saved me from having to pay $4000 and managed to get me a return. That's definitely a first."
"Yeah well you really saved my ass on the paper. You don't even understand. That's worth about 40% of my final for social studies."
Each of them draining their Jack and cokes, the breadsticks long since finished.
"Pizza?" Stiles asked through a burp.
"It's on me."
***
"DUDE! I. Have. A. Date."
"Don't call me Dude."
"D-Bag. I have a date."
"Stick with Dude. You'll live longer. Whose this one with. Don't tell me you took back Danny."
"No. He's still pissed that paper you proofed for me edged him out of the top spot in the school."
Derek allowed himself a private smile at that news.
"No. It's with Ethan."
"Ethan as in Alpha Ethan?"
"The one and the same. I tried brains last time. This time, maybe brains and some looks. I mean. Have you seen him? That chest. Those cheek bones. Dat ass."
Derek growled under his breath but it was dutifully ignored.
"Just be careful. At least Danny was human."
"I'll be fine Derek. He's promised to keep his claws to himself. I gotta say. Since coming out, my choices have been FINE."
Derek even had to grudgingly admit that Stiles was landing himself some A-Listers...as far as BHHS was concerned at least. Listening to the music for a second, he gave himself a small smile as Shania crooned.
I never knew a guy who carried a mirror in his pocket
And a comb up his sleeve-just in case
And all that extra hold gel in your hair oughtta lock it
'Cause Heaven forbid it should fall outta place
Oh-oo-oh, you think you're special
Oh-oo-oh, you think you're something else
The music wasn't coming from his loft, it was being blasted across the street. Stiles couldn't hear it, but he could. He liked the little chuckle the universe gave him from time to time.
"You better get going. I assume the date's tonight?"
"Yup. Better get showered. Dressed. Something easily removable?"
"Just go Stiles. And be careful."
"That's twice now. Say it again and I might actually think you give a shit."
With that Stiles bounded out of the loft. Seriously. When did Derek become Stiles' go to for this sort of thing? Isn't that what Scott was for?
***
As if on cue, Derek opened the door so Stiles didn't have to knock. He handed the glass over to Stiles who drained it in one gulp.
"Am I not pretty enough for a werewolf?"
As casual as he was trying to sound, his voice was tight. He was upset. He was hurt. He was insulted. And something in Derek made him want to go and toss around the one who hurt Stiles. Even as annoying at the human was, he was still in his Pack, and no-one hurt his friends.
"You're plenty attractive Stiles."
"Then why didn't he want..."
Stiles' face all but crumbled as he sat on the couch. Yeah. Ethan was going to be a bit less pretty when Derek was done with him. Sitting beside him, he awkwardly put a hand on Stiles' shoulder. The human leaned into him, seeking the reassuring warmth and touch, but not pushing for anything other than what Derek was offering. Feeling a blush creep up his neck, he was glad to see that Stiles' eyes were closed, framed with long delicate eyelashes on milky white skin that seemed all the more ethereal for the small flaws and imperfections that looked all too kiss...
"Where did that thought come from?"
"Hmm?"
"Nothing just...imagining playing with viscera."
"Dude...you're a bit bent."
"Slightly curved."
"What was that? Missed it."
"Nothing. Just. Relax. I'll bring the food to the coffee table."
Listening as the radio filtered downstairs.
Okay, so you're Brad Pitt
That don't impress me much
So you got the looks but have you got the touch
Don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright
But that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night
That don't impress me much
This was turning into Stiles theme song. A sinking feeling in his gut appeared, thinking about the next verse.
***
Coming up to the loft, Stiles' latest growth spurt being more in the line of muscle than height, he smiled at Derek.
"Guess whose joined the all boys team?"
"Stiles. I know you're gay, despite the serious lack of sex you keep lamenting whenever we're together."
"Not me dumb ass. Jackson. I think he's all boy. He may be a switch hitter. Or something. Both sides of the fence. Anyway. I've got a date on Saturday!"
Trying to muster a smiles, Derek nodded.
"Awesome! I'm happy for you."
The tone also implied he was looking forward to an enema performed with bullet ants in lieu of water.
Stiles didn't catch it.
You're one of those guys who likes to shine his machine
You make me take off my shoes before you let me get in
I can't believe you kiss your car good night
C'mon baby tell me-you must be jokin', right!
Oh-oo-oh, you think you're special
Oh-oo-oh, you think you're something else
"Dude. That song is like, ALWAYS on when I come over. Weird right? You gotta have it on CD on repeat. Anyway. I'll catch you on Sunday. Who knows. Maybe I'll finally get my V-Card punched."
Derek grimaced that they were that familiar with each other. After Stiles left, he picked up his phone.
"Yeah. I need to make an order for Saturday night? Triple breadsticks. Two pepperoni pizzas. Maybe those pull apart cinnamon things? Yeah. Yup. Okay. No problem. See you then. Oh. yeah. Two bottles of coke. The liquor store next door open yet? Thanks. Yeah. No. I'll see you then."
***
"I ordered food, but my car's not working so we need to take the Jeep."
Stiles groaned under his breath, but at least this meant food. And probably copious amounts of liquor when they got back to the Loft.
"He didn't stop talking about his cars."
"Cars?"
"Multiple. I had to wear those booties they make you wear at a crime scene before I could get in, and he made me change because my pants were darker than the seat covers and he, 'Didn't want to risk staining.' I mean...what the fuck man. It's a car!"
Okay, so you've got a car
That don't impress me much
So you got the moves but have you got the touch
Don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright
But that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night
Derek nodded his head in agreement. As much as he was fond of the camaro, and the truck, he'd had all manners of blood and gore in them. That's why leather was a good thing.
"Stiles. Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure. Why not. Not like today can get any worse."
The guys got into the Jeep and buckled up. After a few attempts, the engine turned over and they were on their way.
"Why did you say yes to Danny?"
"Because he's smart."
"Like you?"
"I guess."
"And Ethan?"
"He's hot...was hot...I've heard his nose is almost regrown, but his jaw is taking some time. The wolfsbane that was stuffed into his marrow REALLY did a number on his regeneration."
"But he was hot like you."
"Dude. You don't have to be nice. You're the hot one here."
"I wasn't asking that part as a question."
"Oh. Okay."
"And Jackson...I mean fuck. It's Jackson."
"I know I know. Okay. It was a little because of the flashy car and the status that goes with dating the guy driving them. I have this Jeep. This Jeep I love, but it's a piece."
"But it's useful. It's hauled my dying ass back and forth more than a few times. And the backseat is plenty spacious for getting between your legs and making you weep with pleasure."
"Yeah I guess you're right."
Derek stared rather intently at Stiles, eyes glowing just slightly.
"Thanks Derek. Somehow you seem to know what to wait what's that about my back seat and my legs?"
Derek bared his fangs just slightly, breathing through his mouth. Confusion was not what Stiles was scenting the Jeep with right now. Not even close. The radio came to life as the short in the back tripped it on after Stiles almost hit the curb.
That don't impress me much
You think you're cool but have you got the touch
Don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright
But that won't keep me warm on the long, cold, lonely night
That don't impress me much
"You mean to say?"
"Stiles. You're smart. You're hot. You're mobile. You're over dressed, and if you don't pull over now I'm going to commit a dozen or so traffic violations on you that I don't think you want your Dad to know about."
Okay, so what do you think you're Elvis or something...
Oo-Oh-Oh
That don't impress me much!
Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh-No
Alright! Alright!
Coming to a complete stop, Stiles just looked at Derek and held up his hand.
"But you didn't say anything. You let me date the losers when you felt like..."
"Because I thought you didn't like me like that. I suffered and listened because why not at least make sure you were happy."
You're Tarzan!
Captain Kirk maybe.
John Wayne.
"FUCK. Derek. I was looking for a substitute for YOU! I thought you were straight?!?"
Whatever!
Growling, Derek reached across, snapped the seat belt and pulled Stiles onto his lap.
"I told you. Slightly curved, and in a direction you're going to love if you sit on my like this more often."
That don't impress me much!