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When Stiles was in elementary school, the other kids teased him for his unconscious movements and inability to concentrate. When he was in middle school, they teased him for being the freak kid without a mom. When he got to high school, they teased him for warming the bench in lacrosse and hanging out with the asthmatic kid no one wanted to be friends with.
All those years of teasing did nothing to prepare him for the college and the worst kind of tease. His roommate, Derek Hale.
From the first day, when Stiles had nearly dropped the box he was carrying at the sight of a muscular back suspended in the doorway to his assigned dorm room, he was constantly on his toes. If it weren’t for the few times he’d seen Derek around campus, he’d swear the man was allergic to shirts. As soon as he stepped into the room every day, he stripped down to his boxer briefs and lounged on his bed.
Stiles had to fight his ADHD and growing attraction to Derek to keep focused on his schoolwork and not the miles of toned and tanned flesh in the bed less than five feet away from him. He didn’t remember the description of the dorm rooms mentioning how tiny they were; in fact, he was sure they were at least twice the size of his room at home but whenever Derek was there it seemed to shrink down to barely enough room for the both of them.
If it were just Derek’s looks, he might be able to avoid the whole situation by holing up in the library whenever he needed to study, but the man was just so damn nice. Whenever he ran out for food, he always brought something back for Stiles. When Stiles had been struggling with one of the novels for his Intro to Lit class, he’d come home to a SparkNotes for the novel sitting on the desk along with a cupcake and an encouraging note from Derek. If Derek had plans with his friends, he invited Stiles along and if Stiles had someone over from one of his classes, he always offered to vacate the room.
Derek Hale was just the nicest guy he’d ever met, wrapped up in the body of a porn star and would most definitely be the death of Stiles.
It was the weekend before the end of the first semester and Stiles was parked at his desk, laptop open and books surrounding him as he attempted to write his final essay for his Intro to Lit class when Derek returned from wherever he’d spent the day. He barely glanced up when a bag of delicious smelling grease was set on the corner of his desk, along with the largest soda he’d ever seen aside from Abby’s lab on NCIS.
“You are a god among men,” Stiles muttered around the highlighter in his mouth before spitting it out and reaching for the cup, fighting to get the straw into his mouth as he watched Derek strip down to his boxer briefs, his back toward Stiles.
“You’re welcome,” Derek replied, turning around just as Stiles managed to catch the straw and take a deep drink, his cheeks hollowing as he met Derek’s eyes. “Fuck.”
The straw dropped out of Stiles’ mouth. “Fuck, what?” he asked, starting to turn back to his laptop, freezing when the cup was plucked from his hand and his chair turned so he was facing Derek, who placed a hand on each arm and stared down at him.
“Fuck you and your damn teasing,” he groaned.
Stiles spluttered. “Me? You’re the one who never wears clothes!”
“The room is a hundred degrees! I don’t know how you can stand all the layers you wear!” Derek argued back. “And yes, you! With the way you fellate everything you can get your mouth on, I’ve spent a majority of the semester thinking about dead puppies to keep from chubbing up in my boxers!”
Stiles started to argue but stopped, thinking back over the semester and the number of times in his life he’d been teased relentlessly about his oral fixation. “Oops?”
Derek threw his head back and laughed and Stiles’ eyes traced the tendons in his neck with his eyes, wondering what they would feel like beneath his tongue, between his teeth. He blinked back to reality when Derek tilted his head back down to look at him. “Please tell me I can kiss you.”
“You can do a whole lot more than that.”
The words spilt out before he could stop himself, but he didn’t have time to be embarrassed when Derek’s eyes darkened and he leaned in, breath brushing over Stiles’ lips as he spoke. “Why don’t we start with a kiss.”
His lips were softer than Stiles expected and the kiss lasted far less time than he would’ve liked. Between one breath and the next, Derek went from making every dirty dream of his start to come true to lounging on his bed, book open next to him, muscular chest still on display.
“What the-”
“You have a paper to write,” he said without looking up.
“Are you kidding me?” Stiles said, flailing in his chair and Derek looked up and raised his eyebrows before winking and pointing at Stiles’ laptop.
“You fucking tease,” Stiles grumbled, turning back to his work and continuing to mutter under his breath
“Yeah, but you love it,” Derek said, chuckling when Stiles’ flipped him off over his shoulder.