Archive of Our Own ^beta

♚♞♚♞♚♞

“Can you please be quieter?” Stiles shouts at Jackson's bedroom door. There's a moment of silence before some shuffling noise. Aw, crap. Jackson's door swings open.

“What was that, Stilinski?” Jackson demands. He has a blanket wrapped around his waist, his chest looking a little red in some places where Stiles is sure Lydia's lips and nails had just been, and a sour expression on his face. “It would be great if you could just shut the fuck up and let us do our thing. Take your jealousy somewhere else.”

“I'm not—” Stiles sighs. He doesn't feel like arguing with Jackson tonight. He'd loudly talk about how Stiles is still pining over Lydia again, and Stiles had gotten over his crush on her back in high school. Stiles throws a pillow at Jackson and says, “You're a douche. I'm leaving, but you better be quiet when I get back in a few hours to sleep.”

Jackson smirks. “Oh, Stilinski, I forget your poor virgin body has no idea how long things like this can last.”

“Well, I know for you, it's only ten minutes,” Stiles responds, annoyed. “And that's on a good night, huh?”

“Fuck off,” Jackson shouts. “That was one time!”

Stiles is laughing when Jackson slams the door behind him. He grabs his notebooks, textbooks, laptop, and his pencil case to shove them into his backpack. Stiles pulls on his favourite ratty old sweater, and then winces when he pulls his backpack on. Fuck, that's heavy. He glances around the apartment, scoops up his cell phone and keys, before he heads out.

Stiles barely gets the door unlocked before he hears Jackson pleading with Lydia for her to give him head. Gross , he thinks. He slips out of the apartment into the hallway. God, he's going to kill Scott. “Living with Jackson won't be that big of a deal! I'm sure he'll always be at Lydia's place!”

Yeah, except that Scott is always at Lydia's place, being cutesy with her roommate and Scott's girlfriend, Allison. Lydia likes privacy, apparently, and she knows that Stiles can't stand being around them. So once again, he's being sexiled from his own goddamn apartment. He still can't believe that Jackson had even agreed to live with them—but his parents wanted him to learn to be an adult and less dependent on their money. It doesn't make sense to Stiles, since they still pay for his rent, but he never has to stress about getting rent from Jackson, so he doesn't care.

He thinks about the last time he went to the library and winces. Fuck, it'd been so loud. Two girls had been in some sort of argument over their chemistry project, two guys had been fighting over the same girl, another guy had been on the phone with his mom whining about how his English class was too hard, and some kid had been sick and coughing every ten seconds. Not to mention the girl who had been rudely gaming on her laptop beside him, not giving one shit that her volume was on and she didn't have headphones in. Stiles wonders if there's anyway he could find somewhere else to study for his midterms, but he isn't sure where he'd go.

Maybe he'd try the bookstore, except—well, then Stiles would get distracted with real life alien encounter stories or the books on werewolves and vampires. He knows he couldn't resist browsing first, and then he'd never get around to studying. At least in the library at school, they had a separate room for little cubbies that he could lose himself in.

He shudders when he remembers the girl crying in the corner a few weeks before. God, that place was a mess.

Stiles isn't sure where he's going to go, except that he knows it's not there. He turns down a side street while he brainstorms.

Then he remembers that really loud girl from his Pyschology class. Erica Reyes is something to admire, and be absolutely terrified of, he admits. However, she'd laughed really hard at one of his sarcastic jokes once and had told him that she liked him. Stiles is sure that getting Erica's approval is quite difficult. She'd taken his cell phone from his desk and added her number into his contacts. With a wink, she'd handed it back to him and told him, “You text me if you ever need a good time, you hear?”

Somehow, Stiles hadn't jumped on the opportunity to take her up on that. He hadn't thought much of her offer, actually. She's downright gorgeous, but he hadn't felt that initial attraction.

Still, he thinks texting her might be worth a shot. She got excellent grades.

STILES: hey erica, it's stiles

ERICA: hey munchkin, how are you?

He pauses to smile at her text. Stiles swings his bag around to in front of him as he sits on a bench. It's not warm enough to study in the park, and it's kind of windy. He doesn't want to walk around aimlessly, so he'll take a minute or two to sit and relax.

STILES: i'm alright, yourself?

ERICA: bored out of my fucking mind, kiddo

Stiles tilts his head at the term of endearment. Perhaps she's one of those women who use terms of endearment as though it means nothing. Or perhaps she's informing him that he's now a 'kiddo' and she's offended that he never took her up on her offer.

STILES: I'm not going to be help there, I'm trying to find a place to study
STILES: my apartment and the school library are out

ERICA: why don't you come visit me at work? :)

He frowns. He's not sure he really wants to do that. But he'll ask anyway.

STILES: where do you work?

ERICA: mama's bakery, on john street.
ERICA: it's above the bowling alley
ERICA: and it's super quiet yo

She's proposing a nice environment, especially since John Street—and the bowling alley she speaks of—is only a block and a half away. He stands up and types as he walks.

STILES: that sounds great actually
STILES: be there in five

ERICA: perfect
ERICA: you have to share a muffin with me first
ERICA: and then you can study until your pretty heart is content

Stiles laughs out loud, and claps a hand over his lips. Erica's ridiculous. Who even talks like that? But he has to admit, he's hungry, and a muffin sounds pretty damn good right about now.

He types one message out before slipping his phone into his pocket.

STILES: sounds like a date, sugar

He has a feeling Erica will get a kick out of that, and she'll also know that he means it as innocently as possible.

Stiles tugs on his sweater sleeves most of the way over to the bakery, only because he's pretty sure Jackson fucking shrunk it on purpose. Jackson never does laundry, and the one night he does, he decides to do Stiles'? Scott swears up and down that Jackson would never fuck with Stiles like that, but he's not so sure. In fact, he's pretty positive that Jackson would only do laundry to do just that.

The decision to live together with Jackson hadn't come lightly, but Scott had given Stiles his big puppy dog eyes right before they signed their lease. He'd also nudged Stiles and whispered, "Since his parents are paying for rent, we could up it an extra hundred and save fifty bucks each. ” Scott's not usually the devious type, but he'd known that Stiles would cave to that idea.

Not that Scott's ever home these days. Hell, he hadn't even spent their moving night at the apartment. Nope, he'd gone and curled up with Allison (at least, Stiles likes to pretend that all they do is cuddle). Maybe Stiles is a little bitter, but whenever he does see Scott, the guy is so clearly happy, that Stiles can't remain bitter very long. He thinks his record of being bitter in front of Scott is half of a second. Scott always gives him a big grin and shouts, “Buddy! ” while they rush to hug each other. Then all of those feelings of discontent that Stiles has been feeling while he hadn't seen Scott disappear.

And fuck if that doesn't grate on Stiles' nerves sometimes. Then again, he's happy that Scott's happy. Even if that means that Stiles hasn't been seeing Scott as much as he'd like. They still have Game Night Sundays, which are spent in their boxers, playing video or board games for hours on end. Jackson never sticks around on Sunday nights, and usually spends them at Lydia and Allison's place. It's their one tradition that neither of them are willing to give up.

Really, that's all Stiles can even ask from Scott. Because at the end of the day, Stiles knows that they're still best friends, brothers even, and that Scott would do anything for Stiles if he asked. That's why Stiles doesn't ask, because he feels like it'd be taking advantage of Scott. It's not something Stiles ever wants to do.

When he sees the oval sign for Mama's Bakery, Stiles sighs in relief. He can push all of his Scott thoughts aside for a bit, and try to pretend he's not a little hurt that he hasn't been seeing his best friend as much as he'd like. He doesn't resent Allison though because god, the goofy grin that she gave Scott is worth not seeing him as often. He has to keep reminding himself that.

“Hello?” Stiles calls when he pushes the creaky door open at the top of the stairs and sticks his head in.

“Stiles?” a familiar voice comes. Stiles pushes the door open all the way and steps in. Huh, this isn't what he was expecting, but instantly, he feels as though he's going to like the hell out of this place. He spots Erica sitting on the counter. She swings her feet over the edge closest to him, and places her red six-inch heels down on the ground. “Stiles! Thank god, I'm going crazy out of boredom. We're always dead Friday nights.”

“Hey Erica,” he says, with a careful nod. He glances around the bakery and realizes that his place has this strange sense of home written all over it. He gives her a smile. “How's my favourite badass doing?”

“I'm your favourite? You flatter,” she teases with a grin. She comes up to give him a hesitant hug. Stiles is surprised, especially considering that they aren't close by any means and Erica does not strike him as the touchy-feely kind of girl. Still, he accepts her hug and gives her a little squeeze. She steps back, and her fierce expression is in place. “I'm going to get you a muffin, but they're not out of the oven yet.”

“You bake?” Stiles asks, surprised. He's not entirely sure why he's surprised.

She rolls her eyes. “Get that look off your face, darling. I've been taught by the best. I'm actually changing programs next semester.”

“Really?” he asks, disappointed because he won't see her in his classes anymore.

“Yeah, I've officially been accepted to the baking program at Falcon Community College.” Erica gives him a flash of a grin and adds, “You're going to want to cry once you've tried this muffin, I promise. It's that good.”

“Maybe you shouldn't build your goods up so much. What if it doesn't make me want to weep?” Stiles asks her. She laughs, hops back up onto the counter, and swings her legs over to the other side. She gets down and tells him she'll be back in a moment.

He starts to pull out his school work. Somehow, Stiles feels his shoulders relax and he wonders how that's possible. He's been stressing out about next week's midterms before the semester had even begun. There's some nice, light music playing in the bakery, and with the scents of baked goods filling the air around him, Stiles decides this is the perfect place to get some serious work done.

Erica's heels tell him she's heading back out. She smiles as she pushes the swinging door open. “They'll be another fifteen minutes. I'm surprised you texted me, Stilinski. You didn't seem interested.”

“I, uh—fh—well—” Stiles stumbles over his words. Erica bursts into laughter.

“I'm kidding, dummy. I'm fully aware you're gay. But god, your face,” Erica says, shaking her head.

“Bisexual, actually,” he corrects her, quietly.

She raises her eyebrows, and then scrunches her nose. “Oh god, I'm so sorry. I assumed, when I shouldn't have, and—”

Stiles shrugs. “It's okay, Erica. You didn't know.”

“Then why haven't you hit on me?” Erica asks, with a pout. She leans forward, clearly not giving one shit that her cleavage is full out on display now. Stiles keeps his eyes on her face.

“I just...”

“You're actually not into me, huh?” Erica pouts a little deeper. “Well, that's a bummer. I'm sure we could have had a lot of fun. Oh well.”

She straightens up and gives him a bright smile. Stiles' lips part, but he's not sure what he can say, so he lets them close again. Erica rolls her eyes. “Stiles, I'm disappointed, but only because you're gorgeous. I'll get over it. Friends?”

“Friends,” Stiles echoes, because he's feeling a little off-balance. He realizes quickly that Erica means her words when she's bringing him out warm muffins fifteen minutes later and smiling as though he hadn't just rejected her.

Why had he rejected her? She's fucking gorgeous. He's just...not feeling it. Stiles tries to ignore the idea that maybe something's wrong with him. He hasn't been into anyone since Lydia, but that had been way back in high school. That had been before Stiles had realized—or rather, accepted—that he was bisexual. Even then, he had only acknowledged that he was bisexual because he'd gone to Jungle underage with Danny and laid his eyes upon the sexiest man he'd ever seen. Stiles wonders if he's still holding onto the idea of that guy, holding onto the fact that his gut had felt as though someone had kicked him breathless. He hopes that's not why, because that was five years ago. He hadn't even been in grade twelve yet.

“Okay, I have a confession,” Erica says after a few minutes.

Stiles looks up at her, realizing he hasn't even touched his muffin yet. He picks it up off the plate. “What's that?”

“I have a habit of hitting on every guy I meet,” Erica admits. “Sometimes I hit on girls. I don't care too much about looks—it's not my nature, because...well, let's just say if you'd known me a few years ago, I wasn't the most attractive girl around. To be clear, I'm not saying I hit on you despite you being ugly or something, because you are gorgeous.”

Stiles nods, memorized by the easy way Erica spoke. She had no fears. He believed it. “Okay.”

“Anyway, I met this guy a few weeks ago. He comes into the bakery now,” Erica tells him. It's the first time that Stiles has ever seen Erica hesitate. She rips a piece of her muffin off, and holds it to her lips. She doesn't bite into it though. “And I can't seem to hit on him. It's driving me crazy. I've never had an issue with it before, but this guy...”

Stiles' eyebrows go up, and he takes a bite of his muffin. Then he's completely distracted because, “Oh my god, Erica . This is the best fucking muffin I've ever had.”

“I know,” she says, distracted. “Look, this guy is super gorgeous, and totally not my type, but I can't get him out of my head. So maybe, when I gave you my number last week, it was because I knew you weren't into me—sorry, that I thought you were straight-up gay, by the way—and I knew you were kind of a safe bet. And then, I don't know, you texted me. I don't have many best friends, and the ones I do aren't in town right now, and...”

“Erica, you don't have to explain yourself to me,” Stiles says quietly. He adds, after he has another bite of the chocolate chip muffin, “But it never hurts to have more friends, right?”

She smiles lightly. “No, it doesn't.”

“What's different about this guy?” Stiles asks. He sets his muffin down, and opens up his laptop. He figures Erica won't be offended, and if she is, she'll tell him.

Erica gives Stiles a shy smile. “Everything. Oh my god, Stiles, he's not like everyone else I've met. I'm not even sure why, but my gut knows that he's different.”

“Your gut is usually right,” Stiles comments. “At least, that's what I've found.”

She finishes her muffin before she speaks again. Stiles is a fifth of the way through his chapter in his textbook, typing up notes as he goes. Erica interrupts the silence to say, quietly and thoughtfully, “Stiles, is it possible to look at someone and just know something great could exist between the two of you?”

He continues to type as he answers, “If you asked my best friend, Scott, who's madly in love with his girlfriend, Allison, he'd say yes. Actually, they both would. They met on Allison's first day to our high school and he dumbly handed her a pen. As it turns out, she'd forgotten a pen. They've been happily in love ever since.”

“Think they'll make it?”

“Probably,” Stiles says, with a shrug. “I know they're both too crazy about each other to even consider looking anywhere else.”

“Huh,” Erica murmurs. She flips the page in her book again, and then frowns at him. He glances at her and then she says, “I don't even know his name.”

Stiles lets out a laugh and then says, “Then find that out. I'm sure you can do that. You're fearless, right?”

“I don't give a shit about what people may or may not think of me,” Erica murmurs. “I worked really hard to get there, and I don't want to lose that.”

“So don't,” is Stiles' advice. She throws a straw at him, but then they fall back into silence.

Somehow, Stiles has a feeling that this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Even when Erica has customers, Stiles doesn't find himself distracted. She speaks to them in a casual, happy tone. She treats them all the same, and Stiles can tell that they're all very familiar with her. They must be regulars. Stiles focuses on studying, and ends up getting way more done than he's ever done within three hours.

When he's about ready to take a break, the bakery door opens again. He glances over his shoulder, out of curiousity, and sees a gorgeous black guy walk in.

He waits for Erica's usual happy greeting—she's good at dealing with customers—only it doesn't come. Stiles looks up at her, to see that she's turned into a deer in headlights. He tilts his head and narrows his eyes on her.

Stiles clears his throat obnoxiously and Erica glances at him. Then she straightens her shoulders.

“Good evening,” Erica says, her voice shaking slightly. Stiles doesn't know her very well, but Erica's very forward with who she is. Something tells him that this is the first time some guy has thrown her off her game in a long, long time.

The guy walks up to the counter, gives Stiles a short up-nod, before he smiles lightly at Erica. “Good evening. Do you have any of your muffins left?”

“Uh,” Erica says. She takes a deep breath before nodding. There's a pause before she adds, “Yes! Um, yes, we do. We have chocolate chip, raspberry, carrot, and—”

“I'll take six of whatever you baked today,” the guy says. The words are spoken quietly, and Stiles has given up any pretense of not full-out eavesdropping. He leans back on his stool a little and watches as the scene unfolds in front of him.

Apparently this guy has no shame in asking for whatever Erica, herself, has baked. Erica only nods and quietly goes to package up six chocolate chip muffins. When she returns, she slips the box onto the counter.

“It's almost closing time, so don't...uh, don't worry about paying for them because we would have thrown them out anyway,” Erica stammers. She runs a hand through her hair, out of worry and nerves, not in a flirtatious manner like Stiles would've expected. “Just, uh, have a good night.”

The guy smiles and then slides a twenty dollar bill into her tip jar. He gives her a wink and says, “Have a good night too, Erica.”

“Wait!” Erica says, clearly panicking. Stiles raises his eyebrows, surprised, and a little concerned. “Mama made some incredible cheesecake. Would you like to try some?”

The guy leans back against the counter. “I'd love to try some.”

Erica turns on her heel and rushes to get him a piece.

The bakery door swings open again, and Stiles' jaw drops. Because holy shit, the sexiest guy ever has just walked through the door. This is now Stiles' favourite place in existence. The dark-hair, grumpy-face guy sighs. “Boyd, we're going to be late. And you know what Laura's like when we're late. Are you almost done?”

The guy, Boyd, turns and grunts. Somehow, Boyd's sexy-ass friend understands it. He rolls his eyes and taps his foot. Erica puts the cheesecake into a box. She writes a little note on the top, and Stiles just happens to get a glimpse of it.

Come again soon :)

He can't believe he might have to give her advice. She's a train wreck with this guy. Erica smiles and then Boyd nods in thanks. He turns to head towards the door, and Stiles makes eye contact with Boyd's friend.

“Have a good night,” his friend grumbles.

“Bye!” Erica says, a little too loudly. Stiles winces and then gives the guy a little wave.

When the door swings shut behind them, Erica groans loudly and collapses against the counter. “Oh my god, do you see what I mean? I can't fucking function around him!”

“He's cute,” Stiles says, hoping to lighten the mood. Without lifting her head, she gives him the finger. “At least you know his name now.”

She sighs. “Boyd?”

“Boyd,” Stiles confirms. “I mean, that's not any weirder than Stiles, so you can't really complain.”

Erica lifts her head now. “I wasn't going to complain. I was going to cry. He's so beautiful.”

Stiles isn't sure he'd go that far, but his attention had definitely been drawn to his friend more than anyone else. Stiles leans forward to put his hand on hers. Erica has this incredible power to instantly make anyone feel at ease with her—no matter how terrified of her you were, Stiles bets that anyone would want to open up to her. She has that strange intoxicating air to her. “Listen, next time he orders a box of something, write something cute on it.”

“Mama says we should write 'Come Again' and—” Erica stops talking. “Oh man, I could write so many things on those damn boxes. He always orders a bunch of something or another. It's always to go, so I don't even ask anymore.”

“Since you're obviously tongue-tied around him, you should try writing cute notes. Tell him how good he looks in that sweater, say you hope he's doing well, write a happy note, draw a bunny—do something different. You clearly already have his attention, you've caught it. But if you can't speak around him, you might lose it.” Not that Stiles is an expert by any means, but Erica looks so grateful for his advice, that he feels a bit better about it. “Maybe give him your number.”

“Oh god, that's too fast, too soon.”

“You didn't even ask to borrow my phone to put your number in it!” Stiles protests.

“You were safe. You would've been a one-night stand,” Erica reminds him. “But I don't know. There's something about...about Boyd that's different.”

Stiles grins. “You'll never get him playing it safe, Reyes.”

“Oh shut up. Don't think we're not going to talk about how wet you just got for his friend,” Erica says, laughing now.

Stiles' face goes a little slack in surprise, but then he's laughing with her and wondering how they hadn't been friends for years. He's sure she's already filling up a space in his life that he hadn't even known was empty.

She smiles lightly. “I can leave cute notes on his boxes. I can do that. I would have done it if it was anyone else.”

“But he's not just anyone else, is he?” Stiles asks, amused.

“No, god no,” Erica sighs dreamily, “he's something else, alright. It's as though he looks at me and sees right through me. Then I have no idea how I'm supposed to function because it's as though he just...gets me.”

“Ever think that if he gets you, and if he's still coming around, then maybe he likes you just the way you are?” Stiles asks.

Erica turns to look at him. “Huh. That didn't occur to me, actually.”

“Erica—”

“You just got yourself a new best friend,” Erica informs him. “You won't regret it.”

“No,” Stiles admits. “I won't.”

She smiles at him, beaming as though this is better news than her crush coming into the bakery tonight. It settles Stiles, and he goes back to studying.

♚♞♚♞♚♞

It becomes a routine, especially on the nights that Lydia and Jackson are being extra loud, going into Mama's Bakery. Sometimes he studies, other times he just hangs out with Erica. If he's not with her, they're most likely texting.

She's been making progress the past few weeks with Boyd and her cute messages on the cardboard boxes. She'd written things like, “I love that sweater on you”, “you look extra good today”, “hope to see you tomorrow ;)” and “what did the alien say to the cat?” Stiles had been particularly proud of her for that last one. She'd slyly told him he had to come in again to get the answer to the joke, and Boyd had waited about an hour before strolling back in. She'd written, “take me to your litter” on the box and Boyd had laughed. Erica hadn't been able to stop squealing.

Somehow, Erica's presence became a usual thing in the apartment on days she had off. Scott had even started to hang around at the apartment more, most likely feeling a little protective of his friendship with Stiles. Allison is usually with him, but it doesn't matter because Scott is home.

Things had started looking up for Stiles, especially when he'd gotten his midterms back and had gotten As on every single one. He'd dubbed Mama's Bakery his new study-home and had started to bring discounted baked goods home with him to soften Jackson up at Erica's suggestion. It's working, and even though Jackson bitches about having to work out a little bit more to work off the extra fats, he's been bugging Stiles a lot less and asking for more cheesecake these days.

Stiles is hanging out at Mama's with Erica again when Boyd comes in. He's humming along to the Taylor Swift song playing in the bakery, and Stiles can't help but laugh at Boyd. The guy looks as though he could kill a man with his pinky—you know, if he really wanted to—but he's humming along to Taylor Swift without missing a beat.

Boyd raises an eyebrow at Stiles. He doesn't have to say a word, and Stiles is laughing a bit harder. He straightens his shoulders and says, between laughter fits, “Sorry, dude, but man, you're humming to Taylor Swift.”

“And?” Boyd prompts.

“It's fucking great, that's what,” Stiles says, grinning. Boyd's lips tug upwards and Stiles knows he's trying not to be amused and failing. “Erica just went to the back to take some cookies out of the oven. Or maybe it's the cake. I can't remember.”

“Ah,” Boyd says. He sits down on the stool beside Stiles. “What's going on with you two?”

Stiles blinks. Ah yes, he could see why Erica would like Boyd. He's very blunt, just like her. It amazes him that they're running around the fact that they're both into each other, considering. He snorts and says, “Dude, we're just friends. I'm more gay than straight, anyway.”

Boyd eyes him and then nods, accepting it without an argument. He looks at Stiles' laptop screen and asks, “English major?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says, nodding. “I got stuck studying Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen and honestly, the book is so fucking dry. I can't get into it at all.”

“Do you know Derek Hale?” Boyd asks.

Stiles blinks, unsure how those two things are connected. He shakes his head. “Nope, haven't run across a Derek Hale. I know of a Derek Johnson though.”

Boyd smiles a little before he shakes his head. “Derek Hale is my friend. He runs a study-group for other English majors. He knows that book inside and out by now. Here, I'll give you his number.”

Erica chooses to walk out to see Boyd giving Stiles a phone number. Her face falls, but then Boyd, who hadn't notice her walk out, says, “Derek won't charge you for tutoring help if you tell him that Boyd sent you.”

Stiles looks down at his phone. He nods. “Thanks, dude. I appreciate that.”

“Hello,” Erica says, prompting them to turn their attention to her.

“Hey,” Boyd answers, smiling at her. “I was just giving your friend a tutor's number. How are you today?”

It's the most that Stiles has heard Boyd speak ever. He always assumed that Boyd spoke more to Erica when he wasn't sitting at the counter, but he'd never really asked. Erica looks just as surprised as he is, and instead of fumbling, she smoothly answers, “I'm wonderful. How about yourself?”

“Not too bad,” Boyd says, nodding. “I was hoping for some cookies today.”

“There are some in the oven still,” Erica says, grinning now. “I hope you don't mind the wait for something fresh. Unless you would like one of the cookies in our display?”

“I don't mind waiting,” Boyd answers.

Something tells Stiles that things are about to get good between these two, so he quietly packs away his stuff. Erica and Boyd are chatting about yesterday's batch of cookies when Stiles stands up and says, “I'm heading out tonight. I think I'll shoot your friend a text, thanks Boyd. See you kids later!”

“Bye kitten!” Erica says, before she turns her focus back to Boyd.

“Bye,” Boyd says, with a nod.

Stiles is surprised either of them had even heard him. He's grinning as he heads home though, because he has a feeling that tonight might turn things around for Erica.

When he finds the apartment empty, Stiles sighs in relief. He decides to set up a game for himself and then remembers that he should probably text Boyd's friend.

STILES: hello, this is Stiles Stilinski. Boyd gave me your number because he said you run a study-group for english classes and I need some help

He's not sure what he expects, but it's definitely not an immediate response. He sets down his Xbox controller and lifts his phone.

DEREK: what's the book you're studying?

STILES: I got stuck with Pride and Prejudice...know it?

DEREK: know it, teach it, love it—what's difficult about it for you?
DEREK: I should clarify that I know it's not everyone's favourite

STILES: I get the story but it's so dry, that I can't seem to concentrate on it

DEREK: we study Sundays at 5pm, school library, far right corner

STILES: oh, um, I can't do Sundays

DEREK: why not?

He's obviously not going to tell this random guy that it's Game Night with Scott on Sunday nights, because that would show he prides a silly game night over his schooling. Which he totally does, but this guy doesn't need to know that.

STILES: I have a thing

DEREK: okay, well, I guess if you really need the help, I could meet you another night
DEREK: but you'll lose the value of getting different opinions and different questions

STILES: that's okay, I'd just be grateful for any sort of help
STILES: I have that damn essay to write and I...have no idea what to write about

DEREK: I can help with that

STILES: Boyd said if I dropped your name, you wouldn't charge me...
STILES: so this is me dropping his name ;)

DEREK: just buy me coffee if I'm meeting you outside my normal hours, what day works for you?

STILES: Mondays at 6pm?
STILES: or Wednesdays at 7pm?

DEREK: I could do Mondays at 7pm

STILES: works for me, thank you!

DEREK: I'll text you Monday morning with where we'll meet
DEREK: warning: I hate libraries, they're too distracting and noisy

STILES: oh my god! I feel the same! I usually study at Mama's Bakery

DEREK: alright, buy me a cheesecake and I'll meet you there at 7

STILES: deal, see you then dude. And thanks.

DEREK: no problem, see you then

Stiles lets his phone drop and then he wraps a blanket around himself. He smiles. At least that's one thing he can tell his dad about—he'd be proud that Stiles is willingly seeking help.

He's still cursing the day that he pulled Pride and Prejudice out of the hat to do his compare and contrast essay on. But that's nothing to worry about until Monday evening.

♚♞♚♞♚♞

Stiles arrives to Mama's about a half-hour before he's supposed to meet Boyd's friend, Derek. He wants to hear all of Erica's details from the other night. He'd gotten the texts late that night, but it's not the same, and he likes seeing her smile brightly. She gushes about how they talked for three hours, about nothing in particular, and at the end of the evening, he thanked her for a good night. She's blushing like crazy when she repeats his words, and Stiles is about to ask her a question when the bakery door opens.

Holy shit, it's Boyd's hot friend from a few weeks ago. Stiles blinks and then he smiles. “Derek?”

“Yeah,” the guy grunts as he walks over. “Stiles?”

“Stiles,” he confirms. “Why don't we move over there?”

Away from Erica's earshot, Stiles thinks, pointing to the seat in the corner. Derek looks at him and then turns on his heel to head towards that table. Stiles pauses to look at Erica and mouth, “Oh my god ” before he rushes over. “Two New York cheesecakes, Erica!”

“Coming,” she responds, clearly understanding that Stiles is most definitely into this huge grump of a guy. She sends him a smile before Stiles focuses his attention onto Derek.

“So you're an English major too?” Stiles asks.

“History, actually,” Derek tells him, shrugging. “But I know the entire book list that they make English majors choose from and what they expect for your essays. I'm surprised you need help though.”

“Hey,” Stiles says, slightly offended.

Derek shrugs. “I've heard of you. You came second to Lydia Martin from Beacon Hills High.”

“Uh,” Stiles stammers. “How...how would you know that?”

“I do my research,” Derek responds as though that's not weird at all. He looks down at Stiles' copy of the book. “How far are you into the book?”

“I finished it, twice. Sort of.” Stiles sighs. “Okay, so I may have mostly skimmed it. I have the basic idea of what happens, but I don't know. It's all very...”

“You can't skim this book,” Derek says, with a laugh of disbelief and a shake of his head. “Whether you realize it or not, this book has many subtle hints here and there. How did you react when Darcy confesses his love to her?”

Stiles shrugs. “I don't know. It seemed kind of out of nowhere.”

“Out of nowhere?” Derek sputters. He lets out a laugh and then says, “Oh boy. Okay, this might take longer than I expected.”

“Hey,” Stiles says, slightly offended.

Derek smiles and says, “Let me tell you why this book is great, okay? Give me this one session to convince you to take the time to read it fully. It'll make writing your essay ten times easier.”

Stiles sighs, and Erica sets two plates of cheesecake in front of them. He waves a hand in the air and says, “Alright, dude. Hit me with your best shot.”

Derek smiles at him as though he knows he's got this one in the bag, and then launches into his explanation.

Stiles is memorized by the way Derek speaks so damn passionately about the book, about the characters and the plot. He watches as Derek moves his hands more when he gets excited about something, and he can't help but smile as Derek gets serious about another point. Not only is the guy mega-hot, so hot that he makes that one guy at Jungle who had made Stiles accept he's bisexual seem ugly as fuck in comparison, he's really smart. He clearly cares about this.

Surprisingly, by the time Derek's finished, he's convinced Stiles to give the damn book one last shot. Stiles waves his fork at Derek and says, “Dude, this book better be as good as you promised it is.”

“If you're still having difficulties with the way it's written, then I suggest you check out The Lizzie Bennet Diaries. It's a web series on YouTube. It'll help you understand—in modern times, though—what happens, and the importance of things. It, of course, is only an adaptation, and so, naturally, things are changed and some things don't relate. But it might help if the—”

“Got it,” Stiles says, grinning a little. “Who knew a dude would be so passionate about this book?”

“Who knew?” Derek echoes, amused. “Just give it a shot. The book, I mean.”

“Alright, you've convinced me, Mr. Hale.”

Derek grins, knowing he won. “Text me when you've taken the time to properly read the book, and I'll help you with anything else you might need for your essay.”

“Sounds good,” Stiles says, laughing a little. “I can't believe you just talked about this book for an hour and a half.”

“What?” Derek's expression freezes. He rushes to pull out his phone and then he mutters, “Fuck. Fuck. I have to go, Stiles. Laura will kill me for being late again.”

Laura, Stiles thinks. He had said something about that when Stiles had first seen him. He realizes this is probably his girlfriend and winces. Damn, he'd been having such a nice time with Derek too. He nods, lips tight together.

“Text me when you're done, okay?” Derek stands up. “I'm sorry this wasn't more helpful to you. I'll pay for my cheesecake—”

“Don't worry about it. I've got a hook-up with the baker,” Stiles says, with a wink and a nod at Erica. He stands up. “Tonight was fun. Thank you.”

“No problem. Hopefully I'll see you again this week. Have a nice night, Stiles.”

“You too!” Stiles says, watching as Derek grabs his coat and dials a number on his phone.

Before he's out the bakery door, Stiles hears Derek saying into the phone, “I know, I know, Laura. Calm down, I'm on my way. I'm sorry. I lost track of time, okay? I... ”

Stiles looks over at Erica, and sighs. “Goddammit, he's so fucking beautiful.”

Erica pouts. “Was that his girlfriend he just called?”

“Yeah, I think so. He rushed off to get to her. Fuck, I can't catch a break, Erica. He's the first person I've been attracted to since high school. How ridiculous is that?” Stiles asks, sitting down on his usual stool. He leaves all of his stuff at the table in the corner, except for the copy of Pride and Prejudice that he clutches in his hands. “I probably should find another tutor. I'm sure there are other ones out there, right?”

“None as pretty as him,” Erica says lightly. She adds, “Besides, you two seemed like you were having a lot of fun.”

“I'm surprised you didn't join us or butt in. That seems more your style,” Stiles says, trying to lighten the mood with a joke.

Erica gives him a sympathetic look and says, “I didn't want to break the magic between you. Boyd mentioned to me that Derek doesn't connect well with people, so he wasn't entirely sure he should've given you his number. Derek's study-group is limited to people he tolerates, really. At least, that's what Boyd told me.”

Stiles frowns. “He didn't seem to have any problem talking to me.”

“None at all,” Erica replies.

“Why do I get the feeling like that's not necessarily a good thing?” Stiles says, groaning.

Erica pulls out her cell phone. “Look at this, kitten.”

She has her phone open to a conversation between her and Boyd.

ERICA: Derek and Stiles won't shut up, omg it's kind of cute

BOYD: are you sure it's Derek, because he's not the non-stop talking kind of dude

ERICA: [Attachment: 1 Image]

Stiles opens the photo to see that it's them in the corner. Derek's smiling and his hand is in the air. Stiles is staring at him as though he invented sex or something. He closes it, resisting the urge to ask her to send it to him, and reads the rest of the conversation.

BOYD: huh, so they're hitting it off then?

ERICA: yeah, I think so :)

BOYD: did Stiles insult P&P?

ERICA: I think so

BOYD: derek's a hopeless romantic, so he's kinda passionate about it
BOYD: but they look like they're enjoying themselves

ERICA: they're so cute, I can't handle it!
ERICA: we need to hook them up

BOYD: ha, I promised Derek a few years ago that I wouldn't meddle in his love life
BOYD: and until I see them myself, I'm going to reserve any judgment on them

ERICA: what? don't trust me?

BOYD: i'm skeptical when it comes to Derek
BOYD: has nothing to do with you, bombshell ;)

“Bombshell?” Stiles asks, looking up at Erica.

She blushes, and snatches her phone back. “Yeah, he sort of called me a blonde bombshell and I kind of told him how much I enjoyed it, so...”

Stiles laughs. “Erica, that suits you so much. God, do you have a nickname for him too?”

“Um, chocolate hottie.”

“Isn't that racist?”

“No, it's because he had chocolate icing on his lip the other night,” Erica says, laughing. “God, Stiles. Don't be stupid.”

Stiles simply laughs, because there's no other response to give Erica. He ponders on her conversation with Boyd the rest of the night though.

“I should head out,” he tells her fifteen minutes later, with a yawn.

“I have to close up anyway. I know it's really soon, and I know that Derek's probably dating that Laura girl—which, Boyd didn't mention, by the way—but I'm hoping things work out in your favour. You deserve all the love, Stiles.”

“Thanks, Erica. It's strange. A few months ago, I only thought of you as that loud-mouth girl in my Psychology class. Now I can't imagine my life without you,” Stiles tells her.

She laughs and answers with, “You know, Stilinski, I think I lucked out with you. I...I moved here, and it's been kind of lonely. I'm happy we're friends too.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and opens his arms. She leans over the counter and they hug. He blushes a little when she presses her lips to his cheek very briefly. She pats his other cheek and murmurs, “You're stuck with me, darling. Now, go get some sleep. And try not to over-think the Derek thing.”

“Ha,” Stiles responds. Then he adds, “You are the one who thinks we're the cutest fucking things ever.”

“After Boyd and I, actually,” she says, grinning.

Stiles raises an eyebrow. But then he grows serious and says, “You know, Erica, I'm happy to see you've finally gotten your footing together with Boyd. Man, you used to be a train wreck.”

She squawks, offended, and then throws a straw in his direction. “You get out of here, Stilinski, before I take it upon myself to embarrass the hell out of you when Derek comes in again!”

“Shut your mouth!” Stiles says, laughing as he rushes to grab his stuff. She hops over the counter in her Erica fashion, and Stiles runs to the door. “You can't catch me! Love you!”

“Love you too, asshat!” she shouts as he leaves.

He's still grinning when he crawls into bed that night. This time, when he picks up Pride and Prejudice, he reads the first line out loud to himself.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. ”

If the thought of Derek reading this line makes him smile a little more, then that's Stiles' secret to keep.

♚♞♚♞♚♞

STILES: oh my god, I'm starting to get what you mean!

DEREK: about what part, Stiles?

STILES: how it's subtly obvious before he confesses his love to Lizzy!
STILES: I totally missed this line the first two times: 'He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.' This is him coming to the conclusion that he might love her, right?

DEREK: I told you so.

STILES: I also finally understand the ' My good opinion, once lost, is lost for ever ' line too!

DEREK: how are you liking the book so far? You're not very far into it yet, not really

STILES: I'm hating it less, a lot less
STILES: how are you tonight?

DEREK: good—it's okay if you end up hating it anyway, it's not for everyone
DEREK: how are you?

STILES: great, I want to finish the next chapter
STILES: text you later?

DEREK: sounds good, Stiles
DEREK: have fun :)

STILES: thanks, you too! doing whatever Derek Hale does on a Tuesday afternoon!

♚♞♚♞♚♞

STILES: ugh why does Lizzy like Wickham?!

DEREK: people can't always help who they have feelings for, Stiles
DEREK: especially when they're surface feelings, easily lost

STILES: but I don't like Wickham
STILES: he's ruining everything

DEREK: you barely skimmed the book, didn't you?

STILES: DOES IT GET WORSE? Ugh

DEREK: keep reading :)

STILES: sighhhhhhhhhhh

DEREK: night stiles

STILES: night derek!

♚♞♚♞♚♞

STILES: caroline is such a bitch!!!!

DEREK: stiles, i can't talk right now
DEREK: sorry

STILES: sorry dude!

♚♞♚♞♚♞

STILES: 'her heart did whisper that he had done it for her.' Oh my god, is she going to go after Darcy now?!!

♚♞♚♞♚♞

Stiles frowns, looking at his cell phone. Derek hadn't responded to his text message in two days, and he'd finished the book. He'd resisted texting Derek immediately though, because he didn't want to bother him again. Clearly, Derek isn't in the mood to text him back about this book. Or about anything, really. He'd texted him yesterday asking if Derek was in the mood to meet up for pizza, and he'd been ignored too.

To be fair, Derek doesn't owe him anything. He had gotten Stiles to do what he hadn't been able to do: read the damn book. Stiles wouldn't ever admit it to Jackson (or hell, Lydia) but he's in love with the book. He had known that he liked romance—Scott used to drag him 'unwillingly' to the latest rom-coms, but now Stiles is the one who's dragging him. You know, when they do get the chance to go every few months. He'd known that he likes the idea of falling in love, of being passionate with someone. Hell, looking at Scott and Allison had made him believe in love. Lydia and Jackson are eh, because they're currently in a huge fight and Lydia's being stone-cold to Jackson, who's now pleading. Stiles wishes his bedroom was soundproof. He doesn't want to hear any of that shit.

Erica and Boyd had been getting closer this past week and a half, and Stiles is pretty sure they're going to start dating soon. Not that he'd thought one night with Derek Hale meant he'd be dating him soon too, but it still kind of sucks when everyone in his life is paired off with someone already. Stiles yanks his sweater over his head and glares at his phone again.

He needs to get out of here. Fuck waiting for Derek to text him back. It clearly isn't going to happen.

Stiles decides he's going to head over to Mama's Bakery— if anything, he can talk with Erica and work on his essay. He picks up his copy of Pride and Prejudice and carefully puts it into his backpack with his laptop.

When he gets to Mama's, it's surprisingly busy. Stiles settles into the back corner, sadly the only seat available, and sets up his laptop. He starts writing, and after the rush dies down, Erica walks over to him with a plate of cheesecake.

“Oh! Thanks,” Stiles says, smiling up at her.

“No problem, love. You look stressed, and tired. Have you been sleeping?” Erica asks, eyeing him down.

“Yeah,” he promises. Stiles points at his laptop screen. “This fucking essay is going to kill me, so I figured I'd get a head start on it. It's due in three weeks.”

Erica sighs. “That blows, kiddo. Just let me know if you want anything else—coffee, maybe?”

“No offense, Erica, but your coffee is crap,” Stiles says, with a grin. She playfully swats his arm and he instantly feels a little bit better. “How's lover boy?”

The door opens before she can answer, and she gives him an apologetic expression before she heads back to the counter. She serves the next couple people with bright smiles, and Stiles admires her from the back of the bakery. He has to admit, he wouldn't have suspected that Erica would be great at customer service when he first met her. However, first impressions aren't always accurate, and now Stiles is wondering if maybe he could be wrong about Derek.

He shoves the thought out of his mind, and continues to focus on his essay. Stiles admits that he loves this bakery—if anything, for the fact that it's a strange environment that allows him to actually focus on what he needs to do. Stiles doesn't feel any need to Google search male circumcision or learn about how wolves mate. Instead, he thinks of Lizzy and Mr. Darcy.

His cell phone buzzes about two hours later, and he has three pages of his essay written. He's assuming it'll turn out to be at least seven, because he surprisingly has a lot to say about this story.

SCOTT: hey dude, do you feel like catching that new rom-com tonight?
SCOTT: i forget what it's called, but Allison said she wants to go

Stiles sighs and debates whether or not to agree. The bakery has almost emptied now, and Erica's been surfing the web for at least forty-five minutes. Stiles calls out, “Yo, Erica, do you want to go see Letters to You with Scott, Allison and I tonight?”

Erica lifts her head and glances at the clock. She shrugs. “Sure, why not? Can I invite Boyd?”

“Uh,” Stiles starts to say. How does he—?

“Oh, that'd make you a fifth wheel. No worries,” Erica says, understanding him immediately. “I don't mind doing shit without Boyd, you know. We haven't even gone on a date yet anyway.”

“You're the best,” Stiles tells her, grinning.

“I know.”

STILES: yeah sure, Erica's going to come with us too if that's cool

SCOTT: definitely cool, how are her and boyd?

STILES: they're good, still haven't gone on a date, but I'm sure it'll happen soon

SCOTT: that's good, is he going to come too?

STILES: nawh, she's gonna be my date :)

SCOTT: you know we don't want to make you feel like the third wheel dude! Allison loves you too!

STILES: I know, buddy! Allison's great, but it's easier when I have someone else to talk to
STILES: I'll be okay, promise man

SCOTT: love you! there's a showing at 10:30pm, will Erica be done work by then?

STILES: yep! we'll meet you there

SCOTT: can't wait :)

STILES: love you too, man :)

Stiles sets his phone down and stands up to stretch. He saves his essay so far and closes his laptop. Then he heads over to the counter to bug Erica. “Can I have a scone?”

Erica blinks at him and then shrugs. She gets up to get it. “Since when do you eat scones?”

“Since I've decided I need to try everything on this menu,” Stiles tells her, laughing. “I already know to stay away from the coffee.”

“Hey!” she says, pouting as though she's offended. “It's the machine, I swear.”

“Bullshit,” he answers, laughing. “Can I try it?”

“Sure,” she says, waving at the coffee maker. “Go for it. It's going to be crap for you too, you know.”

Stiles laughs, and instead of pulling Erica's risky move of sliding over the counter to get to the other side, he moves around to the end and pushes the little gate. He takes a few minutes to figure out how the machine works, and someone opens the bakery door.

“Oh,” Erica says, quietly. “Stiles, you have company.”

For some reason, his heart leaps and his mind goes straight to Derek, a guy he barely knows and only hung out with once. Instead, it's Lydia. She's looking a little worn down, and Lydia never looks worn. Stiles frowns.

“Lyd, you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, but she bites her bottom lip and puts her hand on her other arm, looking unsure. “Um, Stiles, could we...could we talk?”

Stiles hits a button on the coffee machine and nods. She waves at Erica, and then sits down by the rest of Stiles' stuff in the corner of the bakery. Stiles glances back at Erica, who nods, and puts three empty plates on the counter. He knows she'll put something comforting on those plates and bring them over.

“Lydia, what's going on?” Stiles asks. She's already sitting down, so he doesn't hug her. But he leans forward to grab her hand. “You don't look okay.”

“I broke up with Jackson,” she says, quietly. Lydia meets his eyes. “For good, this time. And I...I don't really know what I'm supposed to do. Allison said she's going to a movie with Scott tonight, and I don't really want to interrupt their date, or anything. And I figured you'd be here, because you're always here lately, and...you said we were friends.”

“Because we are friends,” Stiles murmurs. “Lydia, I love you so much, and I'm so sorry. Jackson is an asshole, and you deserve the whole damn world.”

Lydia huffs, and it almost sounds like a laugh. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, and Erica sets down two plates with chocolate raspberry cheesecake. Lydia looks up at her. “Oh, sorry, but I don't—”

“Tonight, you do,” Erica says. She drags over another chair and sits down in between them. She adds her own plate to the table, and stabs her cake. She nods encouragingly at Lydia. “C'mon, darling, it can't hurt.”

Lydia shrugs, and does as Erica tells her to by taking a bite of the cake. Stiles idly rubs his thumb on Lydia's other hand and watches as Lydia seems to melt with the mouthful. “Holy shit, Erica, this is incredible.”

Erica smiles. “I told you. Now, you don't have to let me join you. In fact, feel free to tell me to go away. But sometimes a girl helps too.”

Lydia shakes her head. “Please don't go. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be feeling. I just broke up with Jackson.”

“What happened, love?” Erica asks, eating another bite of her slice.

Lydia's bottom lip trembles slightly, and then she starts talking. “I can't handle it anymore. I'm so desperately in love with him, and he keeps forgetting things. Like the other day was our five year anniversary—”

“What?” Stiles breathes. “It's been that long already?”

“Yeah, I know,” Lydia mumbles. “And he just forgot.”

“How?” Erica says, disgusted. “Men are so shitty sometimes.”

“You're not kidding,” Stiles agrees. “Want me to kick his ass?”

“No,” Lydia says, shaking her head. “He'd kill you. God knows he treats you like shit, and I've asked him repeatedly to leave you alone, Stiles. But he never does. He's so...insecure. He knows you used to like me and he's always afraid that I'll leave him for you.”

Erica laughs, and they both look at her like she's insane. “I wonder how insane he's going right now, and if he finds out you're here, with Stiles, oh god. He'd probably cry.”

Lydia snorts. “He was crying on his knees when I left him.”

“That's my girl,” Stiles says, with a wink. “Why don't you share a photo to Facebook to say you're with me? Let him squirm.”

“Fucking brilliant,” Erica says, laughing a little more. “Make it all cutesy—share a photo of your cheesecakes and tag Stiles.”

Lydia shakes her head, but she's pulling out her phone. “Is this a bit too mean?”

“Five year anniversary, Lydia,” Stiles says, his tone serious. There are tears in her eyes again, and she snaps a photo. She's quiet for a minute or so while she uploads it to Facebook. She turns her phone back to them for approval.

It's their two cheesecakes, and the caption reads, 'Just another night with my favourite boy, Stiles Stilinski :) '

“He's going to kill me,” Stiles says, with a laugh. His expression grows serious after a second and he asks, “You're going to be okay without him.”

Lydia nods. She looks down at her cake, tears threatening. “I know, but is he going to be okay without me? Stiles, I know you don't like Jackson, but he doesn't have much.”

“He's—”

“His best friend, Danny, lives six hours away. His parents throw money at him, as long as that means that he won't bug them too much. He tried to be friends with you, but he's so insecure that he can't let himself show he cares. Do you know that he went out and bought you a new gray sweater because he overheard you complaining to Scott that he shrunk your last one?” Lydia asks. The entire time she speaks, she holds a hand near her mouth as though she's afraid she's going to break any second.

Stiles stares at her as though she's lost her mind. He knew the sweater had shrunk, but then when he'd put it on yesterday, it seemed back to normal. What the fuck? Stiles blinks a couple of times while his brain tries to process the information.

Just then, his phone buzzes. He looks down out of habit.

DEREK: sorry, Stiles, things have been crazy here lately...
DEREK: I'm assuming you finished it? Did you like it?

Stiles glances up at Erica, who's pouting at Lydia. She says, “Fuck him. If you're not happy, Lydia, you shouldn't be with him. Do not put the responsibility of Jackson's happiness on your shoulders—you are only responsible for yours.”

“What she said,” Stiles says, quietly.

STILES: can't talk right now dude
STILES: maybe later

DEREK: I guess I deserve that

He rolls his eyes. Fuck, he's not being dramatic. He'll explain that later. Maybe. Fuck, he can't be bothered to care that Derek's finally messaged him back. He shoots Scott a quick text though.

STILES: something came up, Erica and I won't be coming to the movies tonight

SCOTT: need me to come over?!?!

STILES: lyd broke up with jackass

“Stiles,” Erica nudges him.

“Canceling plans,” Stiles responds lightly.

“Oh Stiles, you don't have to do that!” Lydia says, frowning. “Jackson and I have broken up before. I'll be okay.”

Stiles gives her an as if look before saying, “Lydia, you're my friend. This is what friends do. Now, tell me what you want to do tonight.”

Lydia lifts her phone and shows them a text message from Jackson.

JACKSON: lydia, you're with stilinski? Listen, he's not going to love you the way I do, he's not going to understand you like I do, please don't do anything with him. Lydia, I love you and I need you and we have to talk about this. It's not what you think! You're the most important person to me. Please. I need you.

“Turn your phone off,” Erica says, quietly.

“Let's go get drunk?” Stiles suggests.

Lydia brightens at that. “Yeah, can we get drunk tonight?”

Erica shrugs. “Why the fuck not? I'll close up early and text Mama to tell her why.”

“She'll be okay with that?” Lydia asks, almost horrified.

“Oh yeah,” Erica says, grinning. “Mama says that family comes first.”

“But I'm not—”

“You're family,” Erica promises. “Trust me, mine's pretty shitty, so I need all the decent family members I can get. I know we've barely hung out, but what do you say Lydia?”

Stiles watches as Lydia's face breaks out into a smile. “I say that I need all the family members I can get too. My mom and I are close, but the rest of my family kind of ignores me. So yeah. Let's get wasted and take sister photos.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Erica says. She gets up and makes a call to Mama.

While she does, Stiles says quietly, “Erica's fiercely loyal.”

Lydia lifts her head and says, “So am I. And Stiles, I know it hasn't felt like it the past couple of years with you living with Scott and Jackson, but you are one of my best friends. You know me better than most.”

Stiles grins. “Back at you, babe. Finish your cheesecake. We have to get you good and liquored up.”

Lydia laughs and agrees. Erica joins them again and says, “Mama told me there's some tequila in the back if we want it.”

“Yeah, tonight's a tequila kind of night,” Lydia says, smiling. She leans into Erica to bump shoulders. “Shots all night long.”

“You're my kind of girl,” Erica says, laughing. “I'll go get it. After, well, I close up I guess.”

Lydia grins, and Stiles settles back in his chair. He pulls out his phone.

SCOTT: lydia's not answering her phone
SCOTT: where are you? Allison and I want to be there for her too

“Lyd, you okay with Scott and Allison joining us?”

“But their date night—”

“Was a movie night with Erica and I,” Stiles tells her.

“Then yeah, okay.”

STILES: we're at mama's, we're going to get hammered, bring alcohol

ALLISON: you're a good friend, Stiles <3

The text makes him feel warm inside. They finish their cheesecakes, Erica shuts the bakery down, and then she pulls out the tequila shots.

“I love my job,” Erica says, grinning, as she pours the tequila into shot glasses she'd found beside the bottle. “When will Scott and Allison be here?”

“Any minute,” Stiles says.

That's when there's a knock on the door and the drinking really begins.

♚♞♚♞♚♞

They go to a bar called Hanna's Drunk, and it takes him all of twenty minutes before Stiles is stumbling around on the dance floor. He's lost track of Lydia about three minutes ago, and he's sure she came out to dance. He's trying to focus on the people's faces as he passes them, but all he knows is that none of these people have her strawberry- blonde hair. He bumps into someone who seems vaguely familiar.

He keeps moving. Where the fuck had Lydia gone? It's his duty to protect her. Or, well, at least keep her safe tonight. Stiles hates himself sometimes. Erica wanted to do another shot, and well, Stiles is obviously going to do another shot. Then Lydia was suddenly gone, and now he can't find her.

Stiles shoves past some dude, and then he spots her strawberry-blonde hair against some tall dude. Actually, Stiles recognizes that tall dude. Oh my god. It was Aiden. She'd had a fling with him back in high school when she'd broken up with Jackson for a month. God, they'd been all over each other. Except when high school ended, Aiden had gone with his brother, Ethan, who had followed his boyfriend, Danny, out of their hometown. And Danny's best friends with Jackson.

Stiles rushes over and he gets her attention by putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Oh hi, Stiles! Do you remember Aiden?” Lydia asks, her hips still moving against Aiden who hasn't even noticed Stiles' presence.

“Yes,” Stiles says, shaking his head. “Lydia, this is bad. Bad, because Aiden means Ethan, and Ethan means Danny, and Danny means Jackson.”

“Nawh,” Aiden says, apparently noticing him now. “Ethan and Danny broke up.”

Stiles waves a hand around in the air. Because no one cares, Aiden. And then he's pulling Lydia away. “C'mon, you're gonna regret that in the morning!”

“Stiles,” she says, pouting. But she lets him drag her back to their table. She slides in and tells the girls, “Stiles just took me away from Aiden.”

“Aiden?” Allison asks, over the music. She shakes her head. “Lydia, you don't want to go down that path again, do you?”

“The sex was fantastic!” Lydia says, but then she's laughing and waving the waitress over for another round of shots. Aiden's soon forgotten.

Stiles pulls out his phone after he realizes it's vibrating and it's not just the music.

DEREK: stiles,

He frowns at his screen and wonders if he's so drunk he can't read texts anymore. Then his phone buzzes again.

DEREK: is it later yetttt

Stiles glances over at Lydia, who's suddenly looking seriously sad. He frowns and sends one word.

STILES: no

He goes up to the bar and orders another round of tequila shots for their table. Scott runs up to help him carry them over, and he tells Stiles, “You're a good friend!”

“So are you!” Stiles shouts back. They stumble into their seats (after carefully passing out the shots, mind you) and then Stiles lifts his glass. “To Lydia!”

“To Lydia!” the table yells.

“To family!” Lydia shouts next. No one else gets another cheer in, because Lydia's taking her shot and they all follow suit.

Erica wraps her arms around Lydia and Allison. “You know, I've never had girl friends before. Not actual girl friends. I want girl friends. Can we...can we be friends?”

Stiles warms when Lydia's kissing Erica's cheek and Allison is nodding enthusiastically. He swings his head around to give Scott a bright smile, and his eyes happen to notice a familiar face just beyond Scott's shoulder.

Oh god, no. He starts to shove Scott out of the booth.

“Dude, what's going on?” Scott asks, as he shuffles out of the way. “Are you going to vomit?”

Stiles rushes over and stops a foot away from Derek. “Seriously, dude?”

Derek turns and looks at him. He runs a hand through his hair and said, “Dude, you said you couldn't talk.”

“I can't,” Stiles says, moving closer to hear him better. “My best friend broke up with her douche of a boyfriend. We're out cheering her up.”

Derek closes his eyes and winces. “Oh god, I wish I had known that.”

“What? Why? Why are you here?” Stiles asks. He's trying to ignore the fact that the room seems a little spinny.

“I love Hanna's Drunk,” Derek tells him. “And I came with Boyd—and Jackson.”

“Jackson?” Stiles echoes. “You know Jackson?”

“We're kind of... oh my god, you're Stilinski, you're the kid he's always ranting about.” Derek smacks his head, and then gives Stiles an apologetic smile. “Fuck, I am so fucked. I...you guys were here first. Let me...let me...let me get Jackson out of here, yeah.”

Stiles snorts. He glances over at his friends. “It's okay, dude. We should probably start stumbling home anyway.”

“Jackson...” Derek sighs and shakes his head. “No, we'll leave.”

“Are you sure?” Stiles asks. Now he's rubbing his hands together, worried. “No, no, I'd rather get Lydia out of here. We're all way too drunk as it is, anyway.”

Derek nods. “Okay, you guys leave. I'll go get Boyd and Jackson and make them...dance.”

He says the word like he'd rather not. But then he waves a hand and tells Stiles, “No matter. We need to think like sober people. You get Lydia out of here. We'll have to talk about this tomorrow, huh?”

“Sure,” Stiles says. Now he's starting to worry that Jackson will see him talking to Derek. “I'm going to go. It was...strange seeing you.”

“Yeah,” Derek agrees. He sighs before he stops Stiles from getting too far away. He says, “I'm probably breaking bro-code here, but you should know that Jackson had meant to 'forget' their anniversary as a joke. He bought her tickets to go to Paris for the weekend.”

Stiles freezes. He doesn't say anything else, as he turns back to his friends. He shouts, as though it's the most exciting idea ever, “How about we get out of here? It's getting boring as fuck.”

“We've been here for like forty-five minutes!” Erica protests.

Stiles gives her a leveling look. “We can go somewhere better, alright? I'm bored of this place!”

Finally, his friends agree to leave. None of them seem happy with it, but then Erica sees Derek watching them carefully. She says, not too quietly, “It's because Derek's here, huh?”

“Shut up, let's leave,” Stiles says, allowing her to believe that's why. They pay the bill and all stumble out. Stiles spreads his arms out and spins around. He immediately regrets the decision. “Look, we hung out once and he lectured me on Pride and Prejudice the entire time. And he didn't respond to my texts. I don't want to fucking see him, okay?”

“Okay,” Scott says, sympathetically. “You going to be alright, dude? I haven't seen you this worked up since your crush on Lyd—oh! Oops?”

“Don't worry, buddy. We've talked about it,” Stiles says, laughing.

“He was so in love with me,” Lydia teases, stumbling into Stiles now. She hooks her arm in his. “How naive he was, thinking we would work.”

“Hey, I loved you for all the right reasons!” Stiles protests. Then, as they all walk along the sidewalk, “Lyd, I have a question. Serious time.”

“Oh great,” she mutters. But then she pats his hand and says, “Alright, out with it.”

“Did you confront Jackson about forgetting your anniversary?” Stiles asks.

“Of course! He didn't even fucking deny it,” Lydia answers, pouting. “He just looked at me and kept saying, 'It's not what you think.' What the fuck is that supposed to me? He fucking forgot and it's not what I think?”

“Did it ever occur to you that he might have wanted you to think that so the surprise would have seemed even bigger?” Stiles asks.

“That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard,” Lydia tells him. “Who does that?”

Jackson, apparently. Stiles keeps it to himself though because Erica tells him to change the subject. Allison asks if they should cut Jackson's balls off and mail them to his parents. Scott looks surprisingly proud of her idea. Lydia shrugs and says, “They're not big enough that we'd have to pay a lot in shipping.”

It earns a round of laughter and then they change topics completely. Stiles hopes his hungover self remembers this in the morning.

They all crash at Allison and Lydia's apartment. Only Stiles doesn't hang around when he wakes up, hungover and miserable at 5am. Instead, he heads home, grateful it's only a fifteen minute walk.

He enters his apartment and fumbles with the lights. He flashes them on and then turns them off. Fuck, they're too fucking bright. He yawns and blindly gets himself a glass of water from the kitchen.

When Stiles crawls into bed, he doesn't even question the warm body snuggling up beside him. He simply relaxes into the soft grip and twitches his nose before falling asleep.

♚♞♚♞♚♞

Stiles tries to roll over, only to discover he can't. He scrunches his nose up in confusion before he slowly opens his eyes. Oh god , he thinks. It's far too fucking bright out. Which means he's totally slept in and missed his morning class. He doesn't care. It's Friday and no one does shit on a Friday. Stiles closes his eyes again.

Then he remembers that someone has their arms around him. He jerks suddenly, and the light doesn't bother him anymore because he's distracted by the fact that he's looking down at a sleepy Derek Hale who's just waking up.

“Dude, what the hell?” Stiles demands.

Now it's Derek's turn to jerk back. He looks up at Stiles, a half smile reaching his lips, before he asks, “What are you doing in my bed?”

“You're in my bed, in my apartment.” Stiles rubs his head. “I'm too hungover for this shit. Why are you here?”

“Oh.” It takes Derek a minute of rubbing his eyes and yawning before he says, “Jackson said you'd be out all night, and offered me your bed.”

“How the hell would he know if I would be out all night or not?” Stiles demands, but his tone is softer this time.

“He...well, he saw the photo that Lydia tagged of you guys on your date and just assumed.” Derek yawns again. He doesn't move though. “He's lost without her, y'know? I don't think I've ever seen Jackson this torn up.”

“I—” Stiles does not want to feel anything but contempt for Jackson. However, he remembers how Lydia had told him the dude bought him a new sweater to make up for the one he shrunk. And goddammit, if that wasn't something Scott would do. And Stiles loves Scott.

“I'm sorry I'm in your bed,” Derek murmurs.

“It's, um, it's okay. I just wasn't expecting you, that's all.” Stiles throws his legs over the edge of the bed and looks back at Derek. “This is weird.”

“Is it?” Derek asks, frowning. “I have no idea what's normal anymore. I guess I should probably get going, huh?”

“Uh,” Stiles hesitates. Then he sighs and says, “No, Jackson would kill me if I kicked you out. I'll make you breakfast.”

“You don't have to go out of your way—”

“Shut up,” Stiles says. He doesn't have energy for this. “I have to make myself a hangover breakfast, and you're probably going to need one too, so shut up.”

“I...okay.” Derek rests his head down on Stiles' pillow again. “What time is it?”

Stiles leans down and finds his phone on the ground. He hits the button and winces at the bright light. “It's a quarter to ten.”

Derek shoots up at that. “Fuck, I can't do breakfast. I'm sorry, Stiles. I'm late for Laura. Again. She's going to fucking kill me.”

“Is she crazy?” Stiles asks, idly. He wants to seem chill asking about Derek's girlfriend.

“Yeah,” Derek says, with a laugh. He pushes Stiles' blankets off him and searches around for his pants. They're on the floor at the end of the bed. “She'll spend at least ten minutes yelling at me. Fuck, I can't deal with this again today.”

“I...sorry to hear about that dude. Why don't you just dump her?” Stiles suggests.

Derek frowns. “I can't do that. She's one of the few things I have left. Whatever, I'll talk to you later, maybe?”

“Maybe,” Stiles mutters.

“Sorry about crashing on your bed. Um. We'll figure a time out to talk about your essay this week and—”

“I'm almost done my essay, actually. I don't need any help.”

“I...oh, okay. That's great. Maybe I'll see you around sometime?” Derek asks, hopeful.

Stiles shrugs. “Yeah, maybe. Have a good time with Laura.”

“Fuck,” is all Derek says before he's pulling his pants on and rushing out of Stiles' bedroom. Then he rushes back in and gives Stiles' an apologetic expression. “Sorry, I forgot my...everything.”

Stiles shrugs and watches as Derek, who has the body of a fucking Greek God by the way, pulls his shirt on. And then he leans over to tug on a pair of socks. He grabs his wallet and his cell phone and then says, “Bye.”

When he does, he leans forward as though he's going to hug Stiles. Then he remembers they don't do that, and they barely know each other, so he awkwardly turns and rushes out of his room again.

Stiles sighs before he falls back onto his bed. He closes his eyes and pulls a pillow over his head. However, it's the pillow that Derek had slept on and it smells seriously good. So Stiles chucks it across the room and knocks over his lamp. He doesn't even care.

There's a knock at his bedroom door. “Oh good, you're awake. Can I...can I come in?”

Stiles looks up to see Jackson looking dreadful. It's the first time he's ever seen Jackson look anything but perfect and gorgeous. The guy had clearly not slept and is very much hungover too.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. I don't know what my life is anymore, so why the fuck not?” Stiles mumbles.

“Um, I'm sorry about Derek. I thought you'd be out all night...was it weird?” Jackson asks, before freezing only one step in Stiles' bedroom.

Stiles props himself up. “Not really. Did you know we knew each other?”

“Kind of, but not really. He explained it to me last night, I think.” Jackson shrugs. “When did you get home?”

“I don't know. Somewhere after five, I guess.” Stiles rolls over on his bed, getting closer to the wall. He pats the area beside him. “It's too fucking early to be standing there like a douche. C'mon.”

Jackson hesitates, but then he settles down on the bed beside Stiles. “Is Lydia okay?”

“No,” Stiles tells him truthfully. “She was torn up. She got super trashed last night though—don't worry, I didn't let her do anything with anyone else.”

“She could though, she's single.”

“Yeah, but we both know she would regret it so soon after breaking up with your sorry ass,” Stiles mutters. “Besides, she was far too drunk to be making any sort of decisions, let alone who to sleep with.”

“So you two didn't...?” Jackson sighs with relief. “You're a good guy, Stilinski.”

“And I'm also no longer in love with your girlfriend, Jackson. I haven't been for years,” Stiles points out.

“I know, but...sometimes I think you'd be better for Lydia.”

Stiles hadn't been expecting that. He turns to look at Jackson. It's the first time ever that they've called a silent truce and spoke to one another. Stiles figures that if anything happened to Jackson, like he'd ended up in the hospital or something, they'd have this kind of talk. He doesn't hate Jackson, no matter how big of a dick he is. Somewhere since high school, Stiles has developed...feelings for Jackson. Actual, hey-I-don't-hate-you-and-I-kind-of-care-about-your-existence feelings. He swallows because that's hard to handle so hungover.

“No, I think Lydia would eat me for breakfast and be bored. At least with your dumb ass, she has someone to keep her on her toes. You guys are always fighting, but I think that's one of the things that works best with you two. She likes to outsmart you and you like to pretend you know what's up.” Stiles bumps shoulders with Jackson. “Dude, don't sell yourself short. I mean, pretending to forget your five year anniversary is a douche move on so many levels. I can't even begin to count them. But—”

“How did you know that?” Jackson asks.

“Uh, well, Lydia, Scott, Allison, Erica and I were drinking at Hanna's Drunk last night and—well, I ran into Derek. He mentioned he knew you and we put two-and-two together. So I got us out of there, while Derek distracted you. We didn't want you to make any rash decisions or say anything you'd regret in the morning.” Stiles sighs. “Listen, Jackson, Derek only told me so I'd recognize that you might not be a huge douche.”

“I am,” Jackson mumbles. “I'm the biggest douchebag.”

“Yeah, well,” Stiles says, shrugging. “I heard what your surprise was going to be. When were the tickets for?”

“The plane leaves tonight at nine,” Jackson informs him. “Non-refundable too.”

“Jackson?” Stiles fidgets with his shirt. “This may be the only time I say this, but you love Lydia right?”

“More than anyone,” Jackson murmurs.

“Then why are you lying in a bed, talking to me, and feeling sorry for yourself? Go get Lydia back.”

“Stiles, she made it clear that this would be the last time we broke up.”

“So make it the last time you break up. Don't fuck up again, and don't break up again.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “Did you get an email confirmation for the flight?”

“Yeah.”

“Show it to her. Show the date to her, and prove to her that you didn't forget, you dumbass. Go win her back, because Lydia loves you. She's crazy about you, and fuck if I know why, but I don't think she wants anyone else.” Stiles starts to shove Jackson off his bed. Jackson stumbles into a standing position. Stiles sits up and says, “Dude, go! ”

“I...okay, okay,” Jackson says. He pauses at the door and looks back at Stiles. “Thanks, man.”

“Yeah, yeah. Consider it payment for the replacement sweater you bought me.” Jackson's expression is priceless and Stiles gives him a smile. “You didn't have to do that, by the way. You could've told me it was an accident.”

“I don't...I don't know how to do laundry,” Jackson admits, a little sheepish. “Lydia was trying to teach me. I grabbed your sweater by accident.”

“Yeah, whatever, thank you for the new sweater. Now go and get the girl, dammit.”

“Thanks, Stiles.”

Then Jackson's gone. It only takes the guy about thirty seconds before Stiles hears the apartment door shut. God, what a dramatic mess.

He rubs his forehead and texts Erica.

STILES: make sure Lydia looks good
STILES: jackson's going to win her back

Lydia would never forgive him if he let Jackson woo her back when she wasn't looking her best.

He closes his eyes and falls back to sleep. Fuck the rest of today. He's accomplished enough.

♚♞♚♞♚♞

LYDIA: I love you, I love you, love you, love you
LYDIA: Jackson told me what you said to him
LYDIA: thank you <3

Stiles checks the time stamps. They'd been sent only an hour after Jackson had left here. He rolls over and goes through the rest of his messages.

DEREK: sisters are annoying, laura shouted at me for ten minutes and sent me home anyway

ERICA: wow, you should've seen the reunion
ERICA: short break-up though, huh?

ALLISON: you're the best, thank you <3

SCOTT: hey, still wanna see that movie?

Then Stiles blinks and scrolls back down to see Derek's message. Sister. Oh my god, he'd been talking about his sister the entire time. Laura is his sister. Crap, he's an idiot. And he owes Derek an apology for being grumpy this morning.

He types back a response.

STILES: hey derek, sorry for being a grump this morning. I think I was too hungover
STILES: I'm an only child, so I don't know what that's like, tbh.

DEREK: it's not all bad, but god, she's so loud

STILES: I do know the type though, aha
STILES: sucks man, so why does your sister get so upset with you being late?

DEREK: I'm in the Big Brother, Little Brother program
DEREK: my sister runs it, actually
DEREK: and I'm always late

Stiles stares at his phone. He might have found the sweetest guy on earth (after Scott, of course). He smiles and settles in to keep talking.

STILES: that's cool though, what's your lil bro like?

DEREK: his name's Matthew, and he's a fucking hell raiser
DEREK: he scares me, and I think he might turn out to be a serial killer...

Stiles can't help but laugh loudly. He curls his blanket up around his cheek and settles into it.

STILES: hahah, I'm sorry but that's hilarious
STILES: what gives you that impression?

DEREK: everything! I've told Laura my suspicions but she thinks he's harmless
DEREK: I caught him slicing open a dead rat...for science

STILES: freaky!
STILES: you should switch kids or something

DEREK: I've asked but laura thinks i'm the only one who can get through to him
DEREK: this is boring, sorry. How did you like the book?

STILES: okay so I kinda really secretly love it now

DEREK: told you it was worth a full read through

STILES: I wasn't expecting to relate to Lizzy so much
STILES: it reminded me of how I've been treating jackson

DEREK: interesting, I wouldn't have expected that.
DEREK: boyd told me that he and lydia made up and are on their way to Paris

STILES: thanks to your inside-trader info

DEREK: yeah?

STILES: yeah, I told Jackson to get his ovaries together and win her back
STILES: and to not let them break up again because it's like whiplash

DEREK: I don't think I could be so undecided like that

STILES: what do you mean?

DEREK: I think I'd want to be in a relationship where shit like that doesn't happen, where you both know exactly where you stand with the other: loved

STILES: that sounds nice and romantic ;)

DEREK: I'm a sap, sue me

STILES: hey no judgment here, I'm going to see Letters to You tonight

DEREK: I've been trying to drag Boyd to that for weeks!

STILES: you could join us if you want
STILES: not a big deal – there's a group

DEREK: yeah? They'd be okay with that?

STILES: tell boyd that erica will be there, and oh yeah, my friends are very chill

DEREK: just tell me when and where :)

♚♞♚♞♚♞

“Is that okay? That I invited them?” Stiles asks, worried. He glances at Allison for some sort of confirmation. She smiles at him, trying to be assuring, but he can't seem to wonder if he made some sort of grave error.

Erica comes downstairs from the bakery, and she's changed from her work clothes into something hot. Jesus. Her shirt cannot possibly be classified as a shirt. It looks like baby blue lingerie. She wears a tight-ass mini-skirt, her six-inch heels, and fresh red lipstick. “Alright, we're all here. Let's head out.”

“Actually, we're waiting for two people,” Scott tells her, smiling. He's beaming, actually. Because Scott's excited that they're kind of going on a triple-date. Scott and Allison, Boyd and Erica, and Derek and Stiles—except that the last pairing isn't on a date at all. He'd invited him to a casual group thing, that's all. Stiles still has no idea if this was the right decision.

“Oh?” Erica prompts, surprised.

“Stiles—” Allison starts.

“I invited Derek and Boyd, okay?!” Stiles bursts. He takes a second to try to calm his breathing. God, he's nervous. This is nerve-wracking. How do people hang out with people on a daily basis? Fuck. Stiles looks at Erica, who just grins.

“Really? I wish I had known. I would've looked sexier for Boyd,” Erica says, but she's clearly excited to see him.

“You look plenty sexy,” Stiles assures her. He tries to smile, but instead he paces. He doesn't know where to put his hands. Where does he usually put them? He has no idea, so he starts rubbing them together. His body is buzzing with anticipation and he's not sure why.

He'd hung out with Derek once. This is ridiculous.

Then he sees him walking up with Boyd, and Stiles' heart stops. Holy shit. Derek looks a little nervous too, because he's tugging down on his leather jacket, and nudging Boyd, who looks so fucking amused it's not funny.

“Hello boys,” Erica purrs from beside Stiles. Stiles lifts a hand to give them a small wave, and Derek's lips tug upwards.

“Hello bombshell,” Boyd says, smoothly. He steps closer to Erica and props his arm out. She slips hers in his and they immediately start walking. Stiles has to take a moment to appreciate how cute they are, despite the fact that they're not dating.

Then Stiles remembers the first time he hung out with Erica.

She'd said that she hadn't been sure why, but her gut had known that Boyd was different. Is that how he feels about Derek? Nawh, he brushes it off.

When Scott and Allison, holding hands, follow after Erica and Boyd, Stiles rubs a hand through his hair. He looks down at Derek's shoes before he finally lifts his head. Derek's expression is hard to read, but Stiles is motioning for him to start walking first.

He falls into step beside him.

“I didn't mean this to be a triple date,” Stiles admits.

Derek glances at him. “I don't mind.”

Stiles suddenly has a huge lump in his throat. He's not sure what he's supposed to do now, so he stays quiet. Derek casually bumps his shoulder into Stiles' and it makes his heart pound too fast for comfort.

“Stiles, is it possible to look at someone and just know something great could exist between the two of you?” Erica's question echoes in Stiles' mind. His chest feels very full, very thick, and he can't seem to think of anything to say.

It doesn't seem to matter to Derek, because they walk in silence after their friends. Somehow, it works. Somehow, Stiles doesn't feel the need to talk, to fill the air. He studies Derek when they're in line to pay for their tickets. Stiles can't remember the last time he'd ever felt that comfortable walking in silence with someone. Hell, even he and Scott barely stayed quiet whenever they walked somewhere.

He knows that he had been comfortable with Erica, but that was different. He would be studying and Erica would be doing her own thing. They'd never simply sat in silence doing nothing before.

Stiles isn't sure how he and Derek get separated when they sit down to watch the movie. But Derek's on the other side of the two couples between them, and Stiles is trying not to pout about it.

Then Derek whispers over the previews for upcoming movies, “I'm going to get popcorn from the concession stand. Anyone want anything?”

“I'd like a drink—actually, I'll just come with you,” Stiles says. He brushes past his friends and follows Derek down the stairs.

“I remember when I saw the trailer to this movie. I went to the movies with Matthew, and we only got to see the previews before he got us kicked out of the theater,” Derek tells him, with a shake of his head. “The damn kid had stolen a bunch of candy from the display without me realizing and some lady reported it.”

“Wow, he sounds like quite the handful. How often do you guys hang out?” Stiles asks, as they step into the shortest line.

Derek shrugs. “Mostly at night, after he's done school. He's in this play at his school, and they have rehearsals on Monday nights until 8:30pm.”

“Ah,” Stiles says, nodding. Then it clicks into place. “Oh, that's why you rushed out after our little book session.”

“Yeah. I've been arguing with the theater director about how late it seems for an eleven year old, but I'm on the losing side somehow.”

Stiles frowns. “That does seem awfully late for such a young age. What about his parents though?”

Derek rubs the back of his neck, looking as though he'd expected the question.

“Next!” the cashier shouts.

They step up. Derek orders himself a regular popcorn, and Stiles throws in his drink order as well. He hands Derek a five dollar bill. Derek pushes his money away. “I don't want or need your money, Stiles. It's just a drink—the least I could do.”

“Actually, the least you could do is not buy a drink for me,” Stiles points out. He huffs, but crumples the five dollars back into his pocket. “I'll buy you ice cream sometime or something.”

“I do believe I have a weakness for Mama's peach cobbler,” Derek teases.

“Holy fuck, that stuff is to die for, and I don't even like peaches,” Stiles says, laughing. “Mama gave Erica the recipe the other day, and she decided to take a stab at it. I almost cried, it was so good.”

Derek smiles now, and then he hands Stiles his pop. “She'll have to make it for me sometime.”

“I'll bribe her,” Stiles says, winking. Derek's lips quirk up on one side and then he rolls his eyes. Stiles shrugs innocently. “What? I know it's hard to believe, but I can be quite persuasive.”

Derek snorts. “It's not hard to believe at all.”

Stiles stops dead in his tracks, and watches as Derek continues without him. After a moment, he races to catch up. “What do you mean by that? Dude, what do you mean by that?”

Derek merely gives him an amused expression and doesn't answer him. This time, however, they sit down beside each other. Stiles doesn't ask when he sticks his hand into Derek's popcorn bag, and Derek doesn't request permission when he picks up Stiles' drink from the holder between them.

It's not a date—really, it's not. Scott and Allison are making out beside them, and Erica and Boyd are holding hands on the other side of Allison. It's not a date.

But it fucking feels like one.

Especially when Stiles meets Derek's eyes while they laugh at a joke on the screen. He swallows, but that lump in his throat is back again. Damn, Derek's beautiful.

He leans towards Stiles, but only to pick up his pop. For whatever reason, Derek doesn't break eye contact as he takes a small sip.

Stiles gives him a tight smile before he turns his head back to the screen. He doesn't know what happens in the rest of the movie because Derek's moved his knee to rest against Stiles' and holy fucking shit, this needs to be a date more than Stiles needs to breathe.

♚♞♚♞♚♞

“Last night was fun,” Scott says, as he takes a spoonful of his cereal. “And you must be ecstatic that Jackson's gone for the weekend, huh?”

Stiles shrugs. “Actually, the apartment seems kind of empty without him.”

Scott lifts his head to look at his best friend, clearly confused and surprised. “I...you hate Jackson.”

“He bought me a new sweater,” Stiles murmurs. In fact, he's wearing that damn sweater right now, and he can't help but feel a little safer in it. “I don't know. I think you might have been right, Scott. Jackson's not so bad.”

“I thought I would die before I'd ever hear you say that,” Scott mutters. Then he laughs and corrects himself. “Actually, I never thought you'd ever say those words, regardless of my living status. Holy shit, dude.”

Stiles shrugs. “It's not a big deal.”

It's not. Not really. He tugs his sleeves down on his sweater, if only to know that he can, and he looks up at Scott. “Why aren't you over at Allison's? Lydia's gone. You have the entire apartment to yourself.”

“You'd think, but actually, she's spending the day with Erica. I guess when the girls were going to sleep Thursday night, they had some sort of life-changing drunk talk.” Scott slurps up the rest of his cereal, making sure to get all of the milk. When he sets his bowl down, he adds, “Erica's kind of lonely, huh?”

Stiles frowns. “Her best friend, Isaac, didn't move with her when she left home. She's an only kid, and well, her parents ignored her. They didn't particularly give a shit about her or where she ended up. Her mom didn't even wait until she moved her stuff out before she started remodeling it for a gym.”

Scott winces. “Ouch, I thought that shit only happened in jokes and movies.”

“Yeah, well,” Stiles shrugs. “Plus she's never had an actual girl friend before. She said that she tried in high school and...girls just aren't always nice.”

“You love her a lot, huh?” Scott says, giving him his knowing smile.

“Yeah. She's become one of my best friends. I didn't see it coming,” Stiles says, with a half-laugh. “Ironically, I was the one who kind of set it in motion too.”

“I'm happy that she's an addition to our family,” Scott tells him with a nod. “I think Derek and Boyd will be great too.”

Stiles tilts his head. “I'm not sure I know what you mean.”

“C'mon, dude. You can't hide shit from me. I saw you laughing with Boyd. You don't let many people in, but it's all you've been doing all semester. And don't even get me started on the hearts and stars in your eyes when you looked at Derek.”

Stiles shakes his head. “I can't. I barely know Derek. Hell, I don't really know Boyd either.”

Scott scoffs. “Since when does that matter? You have all the time in the world to get to know them both better. Don't set some imaginary time line that you have to follow. It's not about rules, it's about how you feel.”

He studies his best friend. God, Scott could always read him better than anyone else. “I'm not sure how I feel. But I like them both enough to want to hang out with them again.”

Scott rolls his eyes and takes his bowl to the sink. “Dude, you want to do more than hang out with Derek. At least admit that.”

“Okay, so what? He's fucking gorgeous. I would have to be nuts to not think so. He's also surprisingly hilarious and passionate. Did I tell you that he's part of the Big Brother, Little Brother program?” Stiles feels himself relaxing. “He helps some kid practice lines for his play, and he takes him out to ice cream. I don't know. Derek convinced me to read, actually read, Jane Austen.”

“How is your essay coming along?” Scott asks.

“I'm actually almost finished it,” Stiles says, a little proud. “When I told my dad, he was stunned. He asked if I was actually following the rubric and everything.”

Scott laughs. “My mom asked me the same thing when I told her you had to write an essay based on that book.”

“I miss your mom. How's she doing?” Stiles asks.

Scott shrugs. “She's alright. I guess my dad showed up on her doorstep the other day. He claims that since we're finally in a good place, he wants to see if she'd be willing to give them another shot.”

“Oh god, tell me she turned him down,” Stiles says, groaning.

“She did. Apparently, she has her eye on someone else but she won't say who. It's too early, I guess.” Scott shrugs. “I hope she's happy.”

“Me too. Your mom's the best.”

Scott turns to give Stiles that sympathetic, knowing smile he does when he realizes that Stiles is thinking about his own mother. God, he wishes he was closer to home. He'd love to go visit her grave, but he promised his dad he wouldn't attempt another trip home with his Jeep. She was on her last few kilometers, really, and his dad didn't want him to get stuck in the middle of nowhere. It was a three hour drive home.

“She'd be proud of you,” Scott says as though he's reading Stiles' mind.

“Thanks, buddy. What would I do without you?” Stiles asks. He regrets ever feeling bitter that Scott spends most of his time at Allison's, because moments when he was home like this, they made up for everything.

“Probably put your shoes on the wrong feet,” Scott teases. He pours them both a glass of orange juice. “Seriously though, I know this time of year is tough for you.”

“Don't remind me,” Stiles says, lightly.

“You know I'm always here for you,” Scott says, gently. “Just let me know what you need.”

“I...thanks, buddy. So are you really okay with your dad? We haven't talked about it much,” Stiles prompts.

Scott shrugs. “I'm not going out of my way to be rude to him anymore, and I guess he thinks we're okay? I don't really know. I don't really care. He met Allison—completely by accident, actually—and it was so awkward.”

“Ew,” Stiles mumbles. He nods in thanks when Stiles passes him the glass of OJ. “Have you decided to marry Allison yet?”

Scott pauses, and then he hesitates to speak for a moment. Stiles cocks his head. “Um, actually, Allison and I are considering taking a break.”

“What?” Stiles chokes on nothing more than air.

“We're both worried that if we settle now, we'll regret it.” Scott shrugs. “I'm worried that she'll wake up one day in ten years and resent me for never letting her date anyone else.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles says, in disbelief. “I had no idea. Dude, I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay. I'm coming to terms with the idea. We're going to ease into a break. So...for now, we're not having sex. We're trying to be just friends who kiss.” Scott shrugs. “I don't want to make her regret anything later on and she says she feels the same way.”

“I did not see that coming,” Stiles mumbles. He shakes his head. “Feel like getting drunk tonight?”

“Actually, no. I'd rather stay in.” Scott lifts his head. “Perhaps we could invite Boyd and Derek over. Have some sort of guys' night?”

“I—uh, yeah, okay,” Stiles says, shrugging. “Why not?”

“Good.”

“Did you know Aiden's back in town? Ethan broke up with Danny, I guess, so they're around too. Should I—?” Stiles hesitates, and then shakes his head. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, I know we were friends in high school—sort of—but I'd rather not see them.”

“Sounds good, man. I'll go call Derek.”

“Call him?” Scott asks.

“Text him, whatever. Invite him,” Stiles corrects. But man, he really wants to call him now.

“Call him. I'm sure he wouldn't mind,” Scott encourages lightly.

Stiles waves him off as he pulls out his phone and heads into his bedroom. God, Derek had been here yesterday morning. Had that only been yesterday morning? Feels like a lifetime ago. Stiles stretches out on his bed and takes a risk by dialing Derek's number.

He answers on the fourth ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, it's Stiles.”

“I have caller-ID. What's up?” Derek asks. There's some background noise and then Derek hisses, “Laura, go away.”

Stiles smiles, despite himself. “So listen, Scott and Allison are considering taking a break—I know, you're probably about as done with the break-up drama as I am—but we were thinking of having a Bros' night.”

“What do you have in mind?” Derek asks. Then he sighs. “Laura, fuck off. Yes, I'll tell you about it afterward if you just—”

A door slams shut.

“Finally. There are days where I wonder what it's like to be an only child,” Derek mutters.

“It's lonely,” Stiles answers. “But anyway, Scott and I were probably going to order some pizza in and I was going to kick his ass at some video games. Think you and Boyd would want to join us?”

There's a shuffling sound, and then Derek says, “Yeah, yeah, we could do that I guess. I don't know what Boyd's up to, but I'll call him after this. He likes you.”

“He does?” Stiles asks, surprised.

“Yeah. He thinks you're the funniest, awkward guy he's ever met.”

“And you? What do you think?” Stiles asks. He doesn't mean to let the question slip, but his curiousity is killing him. He rolls over and buries his face into his pillow, waiting for the answer.

Derek coughs a little before he says, “Well, I can't argue with Boyd. Not about that.”

Stiles snorts. “Lame, dude.”

“Well, what do you think of me, Stilinski?” Derek asks.

He shifts the phone to his other ear and tells him, “I think you're funny and passionate and I think you want people to think you're more quiet than you are. Plus you look like a sexy badass in that leather jacket of yours.”

Derek laughs quietly into the phone. “You think I'm sexy?”

“And smart,” Stiles rushes to say. “You're definitely smart.”

“Well, the feeling's mutual on both of those counts. What time do you want me to come over?” Derek pauses to add, “With Boyd.”

“Um, seven sound good?”

“Seven sounds perfect. See you then, Stiles.”

“See you then,” Stiles echoes. The phone clicks off, and he finds himself grinning. When had that started and why can't he stop? He buries his face into his pillow and squeals a little. Okay, so maybe this silly and sudden crush has gotten away from him but who the fuck cares? He's so fucking excited that Derek's going to be coming over tonight that Stiles has to hug a pillow and roll around on his bed.

His entire body is humming with anticipation. He rushes out of his room about ten minutes later, and says, “Yo Scott, Derek's down to play video games tonight.”

“Sounds good!” Scott shouts from the bathroom. “Is Boyd coming?”

His phone buzzes.

DEREK: Boyd's in

“Yep!” Stiles answers. He pulls the front of his sweater up to his face and buries his nose into it. Somehow, that calms his nerves. He's settled by the notion that life is good—hell, even he and Jackson have this strange peace treaty right now. Stiles wonders if Derek will crash here again—maybe he'd stay in Stiles' bed again?

Oh god, Stiles needs to change his boxers. Just in case.

♚♞♚♞♚♞

As it turns out, there was no need to change his boxers. He's leaning against the door frame, dragging the goodbye out as long as possible without meaning to, but it's only because Derek said he was going to head out. Boyd had left an hour before because he'd been texting Erica, who had said she was going to head home. Boyd hadn't wanted her to walk alone, so he went to Allison's to walk her back to her place. Scott had said he was going to crash, and Derek had hung around.

Stiles hadn't complained. They'd sat at the island in their small kitchen talking about this and that. None of it had been life-changing conversation, at least there hadn't been one significant piece of conversation that shifted Stiles' world. However, Stiles can't help but wonder if it didn't happen anyway.

“How far is your walk from here?” Stiles asks.

“Oh, actually, I brought my Camaro,” Derek tells him.

“Do you think that's going to impress me or something?” Stiles asks, laughing. “You gave me Camaro over car?”

Derek blushes a little, and makes a face as though he'd been caught red-handed.

Stiles shakes his head, amused. “You're an idiot, do you know that?”

“Hey, just a few hours ago, you were calling me smart.”

“I take it back!” Stiles teases. “I was wrong, totally, 100% wrong.”

Derek raises an eyebrow in challenge, and then he's moving forward. It takes Stiles one second too late to realize that Derek's coming in to tickle him. He jumps out of the way, but it doesn't matter. The second that Derek's fingers touch his side, he's giggling like a twelve year old and finding it difficult to breathe.

“I'm so glad Scott told me you're ticklish,” Derek says, laughing. He keeps going.

Stiles starts wheezing because he's laughing so hard he can't breathe. “Stop! Oh god, Derek! I'm going to kill—kill Scott!”

“Nawh,” Derek says, slowing down. His fingers pause on Stiles' waist, and Stiles straightens up. Derek tilts his head slightly, his eyes dancing down to Stiles' lips and back to his eyes. “You're not going to kill Scott.”

“Oh—okay,” Stiles breathes.

Derek's lips quirk up again and then he's tickling Stiles all over again.

Stiles squeals and shouts, “Asshole!”

But the amusement in his tone takes away any venom the word may have had.

“Uncle! Uncle!” Stiles shouts when Derek threatens to tickle Stiles' armpits. Derek pulls his hands away, amused as hell, and nods. Stiles shakes his head. “Goddammit, Derek. Are you trying to murder me?”

“By tickling you to death?” Derek asks, snorting. “I don't think that's how I would kill anyone.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Jerk-butt.”

“Wow, this name-calling is really hurting my feelings. I'm going to go now,” Derek says, but Stiles sees the twinkle in his eyes. He reaches out and grabs Derek's wrist to stop him from walking away just yet.

“You're dumb,” Stiles murmurs.

“Didn't you just suffer punishment for insulting my intelligence?” Derek asks.

“Is that what that was? I just thought you couldn't keep your hands off me,” Stiles responds. He waits, holds his breath.

Derek simply says, “Have a good night, Stiles. Try to stay out of trouble, huh?”

“Why do you say that like I always end up in trouble?” Stiles calls down the hall to Derek's retreating back. “Night, Der-bear!”

Derek pauses, but doesn't look back when he continues walking towards the elevator. Stiles stands in his door frame, his head in the hallway, and watches as Derek gets onto the elevator. Derek sticks his arm out and waves goodbye before the door shuts completely.

Wow. Stiles is grinning when he closes the door. He turns to see Scott has joined him, and is looking at him with that look.

“What?” he asks, innocently.

“That was intense, dude. Are you sure you're not in love?” Scott asks, sounding concerned.

“I'm not in love. I barely know him.”

“I've never seen you let anyone but me tickle you,” Scott points out. “Remember the time that Danny tried in the locker room? You actually punched him in the face.”

Stiles blushes a little. “Yeah, well. That was an accident.”

Scott shrugs. “Look, dude, I'm happy as long as you're happy. Are you happy?”

“Yeah. It's just not as serious as you seem to think it is.”

“Alright,” Scott says, and let's it drop.

But when Stiles crawls into bed that night, he wonders if he had lied to his best brother, because he can't seem to get rid of the way his stomach ties itself into knots whenever he's around Derek.

He can't shake the stupid smile or the way his toes curl or how his skin tingles with contentedness. No, no, that's not right. How his skin tingles with happiness, bliss. That's much more accurate.

That night he falls to sleep, still smiling, thinking of the way Derek looks at him as though no one else matters.

♚♞♚♞♚♞

“Hey love,” Erica says a few days later when Stiles walks into Mama's Bakery. “How are you today?”

“Great, actually. How about yourself?” Stiles asks.

“Amazing,” Erica purrs. “Guess who came to visit me?”

“Who?” Stiles sits down in his usual stool at the counter.

Erica puts up a finger before she pokes her head into the back. She says something to someone and then a blonde kid steps out, looking a little nervous but quite gorgeous. He gives Stiles a shaky, tiny wave.

“Stiles, I'd like you to meet my other best friend, Isaac!” Erica says, beaming.

“Hi, Isaac,” Stiles says, with a smile.

“Hey,” Isaac says before he looks at Erica with a concerned look. She rolls her eyes.

“He's a little shy. Always has been. But he's in for a couple of weeks. I'm shocked that his dad let him leave,” Erica admits. Then she shrugs. “Who am I to complain about the best thing ever?”

“Um, Erica, about that,” Isaac says, frowning. She looks up at him, and then Stiles sees the worry and concern flicker across her face. He knows that Erica's harder to read for some people, but she has one of the biggest hearts. She steps forward, protectively, and puts a hand on Isaac's arm. Stiles has to admit, he loves how Erica never pressures anyone into saying or doing anything. She simply waits for Isaac to continue. It takes him a good thirty seconds before Isaac mumbles, “I ran away.”

Erica's eyes widened. “What?”

“I think he said he ran away,” Stiles says, realizing too late that his commentary isn't helpful. Erica ignores him, but Isaac's lips tug upwards into a smile for a split second. “Hey, dude, if you need a place to crash for a bit that isn't Erica's ridiculously tiny apartment, you can always crash on my couch. It's a pull-out bed, and surprisingly quite comfortable.”

Only now does Erica turn to look at Stiles. Her face softens and she nods in approval. Isaac glances at him. “That...that would be great actually.”

“Any friend of Erica's is a friend of mine,” Stiles says, with a shrug. “What's your story, kid?”

Isaac seems to relax at Stiles' question, which is surprising. Stiles has a feeling he's in for a heartbreaking story if the bruise Stiles noticed on the kid's arm has anything to do with it. Isaac glances at Erica for confirmation that Stiles is safe to speak in front of. She nods, and Isaac says, “My dad beats me.”

Stiles' heart freezes. Erica had always alluded to that, but she'd never outright told him. Stiles says, “My dad's a Sheriff in Beacon Hills. Do you want me to get him to press charges for you?”

Isaac shakes his head. “No, no, I think I'll be okay. I've taken Erica's advice. I've been documenting everything for the past six years. And uh...if he follows me, well, I'll use it against him.”

“But he's still your dad and you want to give him a chance?” Stiles guesses.

“Sort of,” Isaac says, shrugging. “Actually, I mostly don't want to see his face anymore.”

“Fair,” Stiles says. “But the offer's always on the table. My dad would get his ass kicked in jail as fast as possible, kid. You should tell me embarrassing stories about Erica when she was younger.”

“Other than the fact that her hair was crazy?” Isaac asks, relaxing now.

Erica doesn't say much, and Stiles suspects it's because she hasn't seen Isaac this open with someone other than her before. He pats the stool beside him and Isaac slips onto it.

They talk for a few hours, and Isaac does tell him some stories about Erica when she was younger. Mostly, he talks about how Erica is the only person he's ever been able to count on. Stiles responds to that with, “Well now you have two people. And after you've met Scott, you'll have three.”

Isaac beams and turns to Erica. “Where have you been hiding this dude?”

“I'm selfish. Everyone knows that,” Erica says in a singsong tone.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Please. You're not—”

The door opens and they all glance to see Scott has walked in. Scott almost never comes to the bakery—mainly because he considers it Stiles' place, but it's nice to see him tonight.

Stiles waves him over and introduces Isaac. He doesn't even get a chance to mention that Isaac will be crashing on their couch for a bit before Scott's saying, “I know Erica's place is super small, so you can always stay with us for a while. We have a pull-out couch, and it's comfortable. Stiles was a stickler about that.”

“I—sounds great,” Isaac stammers.

If Stiles wasn't mistaken, Isaac's already developed a little crush on Scott. Scott grins and claps a hand on Isaac's shoulder. Isaac winces, and Scott's eyes widen at Stiles, silently asking what he did wrong.

Stiles casually pulls out his phone while Scott takes a seat on the stool beside Isaac. They're chatting about where Scott, Stiles, and Jackson live—and Scott's informing (read: warning) Isaac about Jackson.

STILES: his father abused him, be careful about touching him

“Oh sorry,” Scott says, politely. “My girlfriend—well, sort of girlfriend...we're taking a break, I guess—just texted me.”

SCOTT: thanks for the head's up, you know how touchy-feely I am
SCOTT: is it cool that I offered our couch?

Erica's chatting to Isaac about things he's missed with this group, and so Stiles responds quickly while they're both distracted.

STILES: I had already offered, but Isaac was too polite to tell you

SCOTT: hahah, that's awesome
SCOTT: you're surprisingly okay with inviting in another person to our lives

STILES: he's erica's bff, as if he isn't already ours too
STILES: plus I think he liiiiiikes you

SCOTT: shut up, he's clearly had a tough ride
SCOTT: I didn't realize I swung both ways like you until now though

Stiles' head jerks up from his phone. He looks at Scott, and all he can muster is a bright smile. It's always a good day when people accept themselves for who they are. Stiles joins in with Erica teasing Scott about how his hair always looks good, and although Isaac is quiet, he's laughing.

♚♞♚♞♚♞

“So when are you going to ask Derek out, dude?” Isaac asks the day before Christmas break.

Stiles looks up from his laptop. He frowns, his eyebrows drawing together. “What?”

“Listen, I know I've only been here for a few weeks, but whenever you two are around each other, hormones are bouncing around in the air. It's starting to become suffocating.”

“Says the guy who's been sleeping in Scott's bed with him for the past week,” Stiles says, shaking his head with a laugh. He doesn't mind Isaac's presence. Surprisingly, neither does Jackson.

Actually, since his trip to Paris with Lydia, Jackson's become quite relaxed. He came home and had given Stiles a huge hug. He'd even pat his back and said, “I missed you, dude. ” Stiles had been too stunned to do anything but echo the words back.

“Shut up, that's not the point of this conversation,” Isaac says. Scott simply beams beside him. Erica had told Stiles all about how good this move had been for Isaac—how he'd been opening up and had been more open than he had ever been. She'd thanked Stiles but he suspects it's mainly Scott who's been helping Isaac come out of his shell. “When are you going to ask him out?”

“I've been wondering the same thing,” Jackson says, when he comes out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist. Today is Sunday and it's Game Night for the guys—Girls' Night for the girls. Scott and Stiles had expanded their guest list to Jackson, Isaac, Boyd, and Derek. It'd only gotten better in Stiles' opinion. Game Night meant that they spent the afternoon chilling together in preparation for the evening—at least those who lived here. Stiles hadn't minded at all.

“We're friends,” Stiles says, shrugging, but even he's not convinced.

“Yeah, who chase each other around the apartment to have tickle wars,” Scott points out from beside Isaac on the couch.

“What is this—Gang Up On Stiles' Day?” he asks.

“You wish, Stilinski,” Jackson says, with a laugh. “I've never seen two people argue whether Elizabeth or Darcy loved each other the most as often as you two do. I'm starting to think you two aren't talking about that damn book anymore.”

Stiles' eyes go wide. What is Jackson saying? He admits, he believes that Lizzy loves Darcy more than Darcy loves Lizzy—and that part of him likes saying it so that he can bicker about it with Derek. He hadn't realized that they had had that argument enough that Jackson would know the characters' names.

“And let's not even get in to last Wednesday,” Isaac says.

“What happened last Wednesday?” Stiles asks.

“That was the day you got your essay back,” Scott informs him, with a look.

Oh. Yeah, okay, so maybe Derek had gone overboard in the celebration. They had gotten a bottle of champagne, Derek had cooked a fancy meal, and had bought him his very own copy of Pride and Prejudice. And maybe, just maybe, Stiles had gotten a little too drunk and had blasted Taylor Swift—much to Boyd's delight—and he may have belted out the lyrics. He also might not have given one shit that everyone else was over either. He hadn't even noticed their presence, because Derek had been making him dinner.

“So.”

“So, when are you going to ask him out, Stilinski?” Jackson asks. “I think today would be the perfect day. Your sexual tension is driving us all mad.”

“Um,” Stiles says.

“Just do something about it, alright?” Jackson asks.

“I can't just...ask him out.”

“Yeah, you can.” Isaac shakes his head. “Scott did. Worked well for him.”

Stiles sighs, but he doesn't say anything else to rebuttal them. Instead, his phone buzzes in his hand and he looks down at it.

DEREK: I'm gonna kick your butt tonight :)

“Aw, fuck.”

“Did he cancel?” Scott asks, concerned.

“No,” Stiles says, shaking his head. “I just realized I might be in deeper than I realized.”

“No shit,” Jackson says before going into his bedroom.

“Stiles, just ask him out. You've wanted to all semester,” Scott says. “The worst that's going to happen is he's going to say no. And trust me, he's not going to say no.”

Stiles shrugs.

“Whatever. We'll see.”

STILES: Not if I kick yours first, doofus :)

DEREK: lameeee
DEREK: I might have to give you a lesson in trash talk, huh?

STILES: only if it's a private lesson

DEREK: you can count on it

♚♞♚♞♚♞

Stiles doesn't ask Derek out then though. Instead, he ignores the looks he gets from the guys and enjoys himself. Sometimes on Game Night, Derek stays over. Tonight's not one of those nights. He says goodbye quietly to Stiles at the door, only brushing his hand against Stiles before he walks down the hall.

It's not until Christmas break has started, and Stiles has all the free time in the world to hang out with Derek, that Stiles considers asking him. Stiles meets Laura—and also, Matthew, who has officially requested a new Big Brother because he's bored of Derek—and it goes really well, he thinks. The entire time Laura's nudging Derek and giving him winks. Stiles finds it comical more than anything.

On Wednesday, Stiles gets drinks with Erica, Lydia, and Allison. They all encourage him to ask Derek out. On Thursday, he really wants to. He has plans to get coffee with Derek at Mama's Bakery, and he's fully prepared for it. Except he gets a phone call from his father that changes his mood.

“Son, before you come home next week, I have to tell you something.”

“What's up, Daddy-o?” Stiles asks, as he bounces a ball against his wall.

“I've been seeing someone for the past few months, and well, I didn't want to tell you until it was serious. It's become serious and I know this has probably come as a shock to you, I want to let you know it doesn't change how I feel about your mother,” his dad says quietly.

“Dad, Mom has been...she's been gone for quite a few years now. It's okay if you're ready to date again,” Stiles says. There's a lump in his throat though. His mother's birthday is in two days. Why did his dad have to tell him this now?

“I've been seeing Melissa McCall.”

Well that's a whole game changer. Stiles sits up. “Shut up! Seriously? Dad, that's great!”

“I know it might be weird—oh, really, son? ” the Sheriff asks him.

“Dad, Melissa has always been a second Mom to me. And that would make Scott and I brothers—like real brothers, without the whole DNA thing—and...Dad, she's the only person I would even consider good enough for you, other than Mom.” Stiles smiles. He's genuinely happy for his dad, especially because Mama McCall is awesome.

“I—well, ha, I had this whole persuasive speech prepared, but I guess I don't need it. It's such a relief to hear you say so,” his dad says into the phone and Stiles can tell he's smiling.

“I love you, Dad. I want you to be happy.”

“I love you so much, Stiles. I can't wait to see you on Monday. ” There's a pause before the Sheriff adds, “I'm very proud of you and so is your mom. I know it.”

“Thanks, Dad. I have to meet up with a friend, but I'll call you before Scott and I leave on Monday?”

“Sounds good. Love you,” his dad says. He echoes the words before they disconnect the call.

It's only a matter of minutes before there's a knock on the door. He shoves his phone into his pocket and rushes over.

“Hey,” he says, smiling at Derek.

“What's wrong?” Derek asks, instantly.

“I—whoa, dude,” Stiles says, with an awkward laugh. He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, actually, my dad just called to say he's dating Scott's mom. Which is great, really, and I love Melissa. She's basically my mom too, y'know.”

“But you still miss your mom,” Derek supplies for him. “I get that.”

“Yeah, you would. Where are your parents now?” Stiles asks.

“In some remote little island that I can't remember the name of,” Derek says, shrugging. “You told me that you like to visit your mom's grave. Isn't her birthday coming up soon?”

“Tomorrow, actually.”

“Want to go visit her?” Derek asks. “I'll drive you home, I don't mind. I can hang out with my sister, Cora, for a bit. That's what I was planning to do next week anyway.”

“I—whoa, really, Derek?”

“Yeah, of course.” Derek pauses before adding, “I'd do anything for you, Stiles.”

“Same,” Stiles murmurs. He reaches out and grabs Derek's hand—to pull him inside the apartment, really, that's why. Except he doesn't let go immediately. “Derek, you have no idea how much I would appreciate going home early. Scott wants to stay because Allison wants to talk to him about something—since he's been sleeping with Isaac, and Allison and Isaac have been getting close, well. I'm sure that's going to be a long and shitty conversation. But I can't ask him to miss it.”

“Stiles, you're not asking me to miss anything. Besides, we can always get coffee in Beacon Hills, right?”

“Right.” Stiles lifts his head to meet Derek's eyes. “You're the best.”

“Back at you.”

The smallest smile creeps onto Stiles' face, and he squeezes Derek's hand. He's found the best of the best (after Scott, naturally).

♚♞♚♞♚♞

“Want to meet her?” Stiles asks the next afternoon when Derek pulls into the cemetery. He'd explained to Scott about their parents (obviously they had celebrated with a bro-hug), told him that Derek had offered to take him home early (and promised Scott that he would meet him the second he got into town on Monday so they could talk about the Serious Conversation he was having with Allison and Isaac on Saturday) and then he told him that he missed his mom. Scott, being the best, had wished him luck.

Before he'd left, Jackson had pulled him in for a hug and said he'd see him at Lydia's annual Christmas party in a week. Isaac had said he was coming home with Scott. Stiles had been worried about leaving Erica alone, but she'd called him up last night to tell him that Boyd had asked her to come home with him as his girlfriend. She'd almost been in tears she'd been so happy.

Now Stiles is in Beacon Hills with Derek, and goddammit, they'd had such a fun road trip home. Derek is a terrible singer (so is Stiles) and it's highly amusing that he insists on belting out the words to every shitty song on the radio.

“Stiles that's—”

“It's okay if you don't want to,” Stiles rushes to say.

“No, I, are you sure?” Derek asks.

“Yeah.”

When he meets Derek in front of the parked car—Camaro, excuse him—Stiles grabs Derek's hand. They walk up the hill and Derek asks, “Think she'll like me?”

Stiles smiles and nods. “Yeah, she'll love you.”

“Stiles, I'm nervous.”

“You don't have to come with me,” Stiles says again.

“No, I want to. I'm still nervous.”

“You're cute,” Stiles whispers. They come up to Claudia Stilinski's headstone. His dad had already been here, obvious by the flowers laid on the ground. Stiles bends down to add his own bouquet—he'd made Derek stop on the way in—and Derek lays his bouquet down. Stiles still couldn't believe he'd done that. Derek had been very insistent that it was only polite of him. Stiles had been so overwhelmed with emotions, he hadn't had it in him to argue.

“Hey Mom,” Stiles murmurs. “I want you to meet someone. This is Derek.”

“Hello, Miss Stilinski,” Derek says, politely.

Stiles looks up at him. He doesn't take his eyes off him while he says to his mother, “You're going to love this guy. He's a keeper.”

Derek's head whips to look at Stiles. He's surprised, but doesn't say anything. He just holds Stiles' hand, his support firm, as Stiles settles down to tell his mom all about his semester.

♚♞♚♞♚♞

“Thank you,” Stiles says when they settle into a booth at cafe an hour later.

“Don't thank me. I'm honored that you trust me enough to let me be there for you,” Derek tells him. “I...that means the world to me, Stiles.”

“You mean the world to me, Derek.” The words come out so easily, that Stiles doesn't even realize they've been said until he sees Derek's reaction. “I mean—”

“Stiles, I...I've been waiting for the right moment, but I never found it. I just—”

“I know,” Stiles whispers. “I feel it too.”

Derek smiles.

They leave it at that. And if they hold hands whenever they see each other the rest of the break, that's between them. Stiles' dad doesn't even notice because he's so worried about how Stiles and Scott are going to react to seeing him with Melissa.

Scott points at their hands intertwined, and Stiles simply shrugs.

♚♞♚♞♚♞

Derek holds Stiles' hand when they're sitting around a table with Isaac, Erica, Scott, and Stiles' father. Isaac says, “I want to press charges against my father for abusing me.”

Stiles might squeeze, because his heart breaks, and Derek squeezes back. The sheriff looks at no one except for Isaac when he says, “Erica told me you've been collecting evidence. Smart move—even if it shouldn't have been necessary in the first place. Son, no one, especially not a father, should ever lay a hand on you like that.”

Isaac glances around the table. “Yeah, I know that now. I'm learning the meaning family means protecting one another, not locking someone in a broken freezer as punishment.”

The Sheriff looks sick at that news, and takes Isaac's thick folder of evidence. He frowns. “Fuck that asshole, let's put him away, huh?”

Isaac lets out a small, nervous laugh. “Please.”

Somehow, when Stiles meets Derek's eyes, he knows that their little makeshift family is going to be okay. They'd get through this.

♚♞♚♞♚♞

It's not until Lydia's annual Christmas party that anything happens. Stiles is leaning against the archway into Lydia's huge living room, watching his new formed family have fun.

Lydia's sitting in Jackson's lap, debating with Scott about the game rules to Taboo. Stiles is pretty sure they're saying the exact same things in different words. Jackson is telling Isaac that they should look for a bigger place so that all five of the guys can live together—and that he'll hook Isaac up with a job at his dad's company.

Allison and Erica are giggling about something that Boyd's mom had said to her. Boyd is stretched out and tossing a ball back and forth with Scott, as he debates with Lydia. Derek's sisters, Laura and Cora, are arguing about something, but then Cora bursts into laughter and leans forward to whisper something. Then Laura's laughing, and Jackson suddenly wants to know what's going on with their conversation.

Stiles notices that Allison reaches out for Isaac's hand, and he thinks it might take a bit to get used to the idea of Scott, Allison, and Isaac all being in the same relationship. But then he sees the way Scott glances over and beams at them as though they make him happier than anyone else, and Stiles realizes it might not be a difficult adjustment at all.

Derek comes down the hall from the bathroom and nudges him. Quietly, he asks, “You okay?”

“I've never been better,” Stiles murmurs. “Look at them. They're all nuts.”

Derek laughs. “Yeah. But they're our kind of nuts.”

Stiles bursts into laughter. “That's the most ridiculous—and cute—thing you've ever said. What am I supposed to do with you?”

“I could think of a few things,” Derek murmurs.

“I...Derek, I like you,” Stiles says, feeling his body steady. “I like you a lot, actually. I'm pretty sure I looked at you and my gut told me that we could have something really great if we gave it a shot.”

“I like you too,” Derek says. “And I know we could have something great if we gave it a shot.”

“Are we going to give it a shot?"

“You tell me,” Derek says.

“Yes,” Stiles answers, a little breathless. “Derek, will you go out with me?”

Derek snorts. “So formal. A simple kiss would've done the trick.”

“Oh yeah?” Stiles asks, leaning forward.

“Guys, it's happening!” Erica shouts.

It doesn't stop Derek from closing the distance and touching Stiles' lips. Someone whistles (Scott, probably), someone claps (Allison, probably) and then Jackson shouts, “About damn time!”

“I might be a little in love with you,” Stiles admits when he pulls away.

Derek snorts. “As if you don't already know I feel the same. C'mon, let's go join our nuts for a terrible game of Taboo.”

Stiles laughs harder than he expects to, but it might be the high of being blissfully happy. He finds Derek tugging him over to the living room. They settle down beside each other on the floor, against the couch. Scott and Lydia start debating the rules to Taboo again, and Stiles puts his head on Derek's shoulder.

He wonders if he can bottle this feeling up so he can relive it in years to come. Derek brushes his lips against Stiles' forehead, and Stiles wonders if it'll always be like this. He hopes so. Fuck, he hopes so.

♚♞♚♞♚♞