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Stiles tried not to fidget too much as he sat in the cafe waiting for Derek. He didn’t think he’d ever been so nervous in his life, nor did he ever feel like he had so much to lose. Derek was everything he’d ever wanted, and the fact the guy hadn’t run after the first letter was proof of his perfection. He sighed and looked at the clock above the menu again. 9:40. He had time. It would be okay. Derek still had twenty minutes to show up, and even then he could be late.
A quarter past. That’s when I’ll call it. If he’s not here by then… 10:15. Time of death.
The bell above the door jingled as another patron entered, and Stiles did his best not to look. Insanity was a given, he didn’t want to speed up the process.
For a split second he thought Derek taking a seat across from him was a mirage. He figured he was pretty thirsty when it came to Derek, so it was only appropriate.
The mirage was criminally hot though. Like those large hands. They were attached to strong forearms, dark hair and veins so masculine Stiles wanted to reach out and touch. The biceps were nice too, even though they were covered by a dark grey henley, the sleeves pushed up in a really attractive way. The shoulders. Ugh, the shoulders! So wide. Broad. Solid. Neck to lick for days. That jawline, damn! Stubble that was the hottest thing he’d seen this close in person and those piercing green - no! Blue! No, hazel! No, grey! No! Just, just, stunning eyes.
My god, what a sexy beast.
“Did you just call me a sexy beast?” Derek smirked.
“Nope, pretty sure I said I have apoplexy and am deceased.” Stiles dared him to argue, but silently, with his eyes.
Derek smirked somehow even more, and Stiles fell in love a bit further.
“Sounds serious. Will you be okay?”
Stiles waved a hand casually, “I’m fine, it’s a thing.”
“Well, as long as you’re sure. I’m no doctor, but I have questions.” His face suddenly became serious, and it concerned Stiles more than than he would ever admit. “I have a question to start with, actually.”
Stiles shifted in his chair and looked at Derek earnestly. “Go for it. Though I bet I know what it is. My name, right? It’s always the name. It’s actually Mieczysław. Polish. Enough said. Oh, wait! Is it about the time I was seen in a cop car and the rumour started that I was undercover and in the Jump Street Program? Cos I’ll have you know, it was my dad’s car. He’s a sheriff. Oh! It-”
Derek laughed loudly, and it shut Stiles up instantly, like magic. “Thanks for sharing. But I was actually going to ask about the last letter.”
“Last letter? My rambling love note?”
“That’s the one.” Derek looked amused, and a little smug.
Stiles could only blink stupidly at him. He had been sure they had chemistry. If Derek had shown up only to reject him in person…
“You said I’m like a Dark Apollo. But I think you’re wrong. You think I’m this cool, dark guy but I’m really not. I’m more like a Dork Apollo.”
Stiles laughed loudly. “Ha! No, I get it, I think I can see it already! I have seen your class presentations after all… Only a particular breed of dork can be that passionate about long-dead dudes. And I have to say, Oh Dork Apollo, I really kinda dig it. You are one sexy beast.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and smiled for the seven billionth time that morning.
Derek smiled at him softly, it was genuine and warm and Stiles knew that he’d give this man anything. “Uh, thank you. I, uh, well, ditto. I think you’re, now what was it? An apoplexy deceased?”
Stiles grinned in return, thrilled to hear Derek speaking his language. They took a minute to stare at each other like lovestruck fools.
Only moments later, when they were politely asked if they were ready to order, did they realise they’d been so busy grinning at each other that they’d completely forgotten about coffee.
A successful date, then. And just the first of many.