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The first time Derek saw him, the idiot was kicking at his door and cursing.
Derek just stood there and raised an eyebrow, a cup of coffee in one hand and the newspaper in the other, but the other guy didn’t even seem to notice him. He wiggled the doorknob and then cursed again, slamming a fist against the door. As if that would do anything.
Derek cleared his throat. The guy swung around and his eyes went round.
“Oh my god dude, thank god. Hello!”
Derek stared. He was more of a boy than a man if Derek was being honest. Brown hair stuck up in all directions and it looked like it was a deputy's uniform that hung rumpled off his frame. He had the brightest amber eyes Derek had ever seen and a bright smile that stretched from ear to ear.
“Sorry,” the boy said, running a hand through his hair. “Was I bothering you?”
Silently, Derek shook his head. The kid crossed the hall and offered out his hand, grinning even brighter.
“I’m Stiles, by the way. Your new neighbor! I’m also already locked out of my apartment. I either left the key inside, in my car, or all the way back at the station. I have no idea, to be honest.”
Derek stared for a long moment. Then he grunted and turned around, starting back into his apartment. Except Stiles jumped forward before he could shut the door, sticking one foot half-in and shoving his body in the way so Derek couldn’t do so without hitting the idiot.
Derek glared at him. “Move.”
“If it’s not too invasive of a question, how long have you lived here?” Stiles asked, ignoring the command. His bright eyes looked past Derek and searched around his apartment and he grinned suddenly, squeezing past and wandering into the room. “You know, just in case you’re an expert on breaking the locks or something. I didn’t really need a key before because I lived with my dad and then stayed in the dorms. But now I’m graduated and totally responsible.”
“What the hell are you doing?”
Stiles spun around, actually looking surprised at his tone. As if he hadn’t just wandered into a stranger’s apartment without asking. “Um, being friendly? Did you just wake up or something? Oh my god, were you taking a nap at this time of day?”
Derek glowered. He had just woken up, but from after getting off a night-shift, not a nap. Not like that was any of the idiot’s business. “Why are you in my apartment.”
“Because I’m—” Stiles said, and then cut off. He turned in a full circle, blinked a few times, and then his face turned bright red. “I’m not sure, actually.”
“Get out,” Derek said, opening the door wider. But instead of leaving, the kid’s eyes zeroed in on Derek’s coffee and his face brightened.
“Dude, is that coffee? I was totally going to make myself a cup but… well, I lost my keys.”
Derek clenched his jaw. Because that really wasn’t his problem.
Stiles finally seemed to read his face because the kid chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. “On second thought, I’m going to go check my car. And maybe the station. Just, uh, keep the murder brows to a minimum, yeah?”
Derek opened his door as wide as it would go. Stiles quickly ducked past and all but scurried off down the hall.
Derek was not very impressed by his new neighbor.
-
The second time he saw Stiles, it was at his sister’s bar.
Stiles was leaning across the counter and laughing with Erica, and Derek narrowed his eyes, crossing the room. Erica straightened the moment she saw him, returning to the glasses she was arranging, and Stiles’s eyes rounded as he shrank back.
“Ah, Grouchy-brows! Nice to see you again.”
“Is this guy bothering you?”
Stiles blinked for a moment, looking confused. Then he just looked offended. His mouth dropped open but before he could say a word, Erica laughed and waved a hand through the air.
“Relax, Derek, he’s a friend.”
“A friend.”
“Yeah, Laura’s a pretty big fan. She says she likes the moles.”
Derek frowned harder but Stiles just looked fascinated. The kid’s eyes snapped from Derek to Erica and then back before he finally wet his lips before speaking. “Wait, you two know each other?”
“She’s my best friend’s fiance,” Derek said, before Erica could say a word. If possible, Stiles’s eyes rounded even more.
“Your best friend is Boyd? Firefighter Boyd?”
Derek glared. Stiles threw back his head and laughed, displaying a long stretch of pale neck.
“Oh my god, dude, this is classic.”
“You know Boyd?”
“Yeah, dude! I used to come here all the time to get a drink after work and met the lovely Erica. She introduced me to her promised and bam! Instant friendship.”
“Boyd thinks you’re annoying,” Erica told him. Derek thought at least he had that.
“I’m a delight,” Stiles said, winking at her.
Derek didn’t think so.
He thought Erica was saying something else, but Derek didn’t hear it. Brows drawing together, he turned around to go find his sister. He didn’t like this Stiles character. The kid was annoying. And his moles were not cute.
Not cute at all.
(Maybe a little cute.)
-
The third time Derek saw the idiot, Stiles was sitting in front of his apartment door. Just sitting there looking absolutely miserable. Shifting his bags of take-out dinner into his other hand, Derek approached slowly, turning toward his own apartment door right across from Stiles’s before raising a brow and facing the kid again.
“What are you doing.”
Stiles just frowned up at him. And Derek didn’t need more than that, sighing.
“Please tell me you have your key.”
“I do not have my key.”
“Do you know where it is?”
“I do not.”
“And the landlord won’t unlock your door?”
“Finstock hates me, I think. He said this happens every other week and apparently I need to be taught a lesson. I’m hoping to get let in a little later tonight though.”
Derek looked at him for a long moment. Then he unlocked his own door and held it open, nodding inside. “I’ll make coffee.”
Stiles brightened in a second. The kid all but leaped to his feet, stumbling into Derek’s apartment, and Derek wondered briefly if this was maybe a setup. But there was no way. Stiles wasn’t that smart. And Derek was pretty sure the kid understood that Derek hated him.
Because he did hate him. Right?
Whatever.
Derek nearly groaned to see Stiles making himself at home on his couch. He wondered what he had possibly done to deserve this before plodding into the kitchen and flipping on the coffee maker. Derek wasn’t this kid’s babysitter, dammit. He had a hard time believing he was old enough to own his own apartment much less have a proper job and legally drink.
When he came back into the main room, Stiles was playing with his badge. Derek frowned and crossed the room, extending a free hand.
“So,” Stiles said, placing the badge in it. “Fire department, huh?”
“Yes.”
“You like it there?”
Derek gave him a flat look, setting the bags of take-out on the coffee table. Stiles’s eyes zeroed in on them and sparked hungrily and Derek bit back a sigh. He gestured toward them before turning back toward the kitchen.
“Help yourself.”
“Dude!”
Derek just rolled his eyes. He’d probably bought too much anyway; he usually did. While the sounds of a rustling bag filled the air, Derek moved to fill two mugs with decaf coffee. He came back out to see Stiles digging into the beef and broccoli, mouth full and yet somehow, he was still grinning.
Derek totally hated him. Totally.
But when he sunk down next to Stiles and the kid hummed happily, taking another heaping bite, Derek found the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Then Stiles glanced over at him and Derek glared again, reaching over and taking the shrimp fried rice.
Stiles was going to eat all his food. This was a terrible idea.
Derek still wasn’t impressed.
-
The fourth time, Derek was pretty sure his neighbor was stalking him.
Stiles was always there. Waving to him in the hallway, hanging out at Laura’s bar. She tried to introduce him and Derek once and Derek had just rolled his eyes, turning in the other direction and walking away.
But then Stiles showed up at Derek’s work.
Derek’s work .
Derek hadn’t expected it, first of all. So when he came out of the locker room in nothing but his uniform pants after a long day and Stiles cut off laughing to promptly start choking, Derek went stock-still and just stared for a moment.
Isaac hit Stiles over the back a few times and the kid stumbled away, flipping him the bird. Boyd helped him straighten out and by the time Stiles finally caught his breath again, Derek had somewhat returned to himself.
He stalked over, glaring.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Dude,” Stiles said, throwing up his hands. “Relax. I was just on a scene with these guys.”
Derek looked over at Boyd, who nodded. Still, he kept his glare, focusing on how Stiles shifted from foot to foot, not how the boy’s mouth was slightly open and he was staring transfixed at Derek’s bare chest.
“Why are you here now?”
Stiles blinked a few times and then clamped his mouth closed. Isaac snickered and the boy shot him a withering look before turning back toward Derek. “My dad said I didn’t need to come back in.”
“Your dad?” What was this kid, ten years old?
“Uh, Sheriff Stilinski?”
Derek blinked. It had never really occurred to him that he hadn’t gotten Stiles’s full name. Stiles Stilinksi. That hit him like a blow to the chest as he realized this idiot was Sheriff Stilinski’s kid. The same one that had only been a grade or two below Derek. He was pretty sure he’d seen him in the hallways once ore twice.
He’d been a clumsy idiot back then too.
Stiles was looking at his chest once more. Derek frowned and cross his arms, startling Stiles’s gaze right back up. “So do you know here your key is today?”
“Of course I do,” Stiles said, hand dropping to his pocket. But then he frowned and reached into his other one. Isaac barked out a loud laugh and Stiles growled before turning both pockets inside out and then cursed, turning away.
Derek watched him stumble toward the ugliest blue jeep he’d ever seen, a small smile curling at the edges of his lips. Boyd moved to stand beside him, following his gaze.
“You like Stilinski.”
Derek’s smile dropped. “I do not. He’s an idiot.”
“He’s a good guy. A good deputy.”
“He’s a literal child.”
Boyd rolled his eyes. “Just because he looks like a high schooler doesn’t make him one. You should’ve seen the time he grew out a beard. It was a little disturbing.”
Derek didn’t think he wanted to have seen that. He liked Stiles’s clean-shaven face. He could see all the guy’s moles then. The ones that dotted all across his skin and Derek was pretty sure they dipped a lot lower than his face and neck—
“Derek?”
Derek snapped back to reality. Growling, he uncrossed his arms and turned around, stalking right back toward the locker room. He was pretty sure Boyd’s soft chuckle followed him.
Stiles’s face was stupid. His moles were dumb.
Derek did not like him.
-
The fifth time, Stiles nearly died.
Derek was the one called into what had apparently been an electrical fire. After panicking for about three seconds from vivid childhood flashbacks, Derek grabbed Boyd, Isaac, and Jackson, and they were some of the first ones on scene.
There was a nearby deputy who had shown up too. He’d been working to get people out earlier, a soot-stained mother said. She was sobbing.
The deputy had gone back inside for her daughter.
“Stilinski’s boy refused to wait—”
“Wait,” Derek said, turning back toward the house. “Stiles is still in there?”
His stomach dropped. He didn’t even hear the women’s response.
He was moving before he could stop himself, pulling his mask over his face. Derek thought he heard Boyd shout his name but then Derek was ducking into the heat. His heart thudded against his chest and the smoke was overwhelming.
Derek used to fear fire after an accident that nearly took the lives of his entire family. He was pretty sure that’s why he’d become a fireman in the first place. To prove he wasn’t terrified and to prove that it didn’t haunt him.
Sometimes it still did. But right now, the only reason Derek was terrified was because of Stiles. Stiles. The clumsy idiot who Derek had been pretty sure couldn’t die.
Stiles couldn’t die.
There was a faint wheezing coming from somewhere beyond the front door. Derek stumbled forward and came across the deputy curled up around a small girl, trying to cover her face with his body. Stiles’s chest rose in fell in pants and he didn’t look exactly conscious. His eyes were unfocused. He was swaying.
“Stiles!”
It wasn’t Derek’s voice that cut through the flames. He’d nearly stumbled to a stop, he realized, and Boyd brushed past him, racing toward the two. Forcing himself forward, Derek barely caught Stiles’s eyes blinking hazily for a second. And then he was pushing the girl forward into Boyd’s waiting arms.
“Get her out of here.”
“I’ve got the girl,” Boyd said, holding her close. “You get Stiles.”
Derek didn’t need that order. He moved forward, catching the boy before he could collapse sideways and Stiles said something unintelligible Weak fingers curled into Derek’s sleeve and his breaths were coming out in soft wheezes. Derek picked him up bridal style as Stiles’s hand fell from his sleeve.
“Derek, I can’t— I can’t breathe —”
“You’re going to be fine.”
Stiles’s head lolled against his shoulder and Derek made back for the door. His heart continued to thud against his chest as Stiles rasped against his chest.
Because it wasn’t the fire Derek feared. It was Stiles.
Stiles the idiot.
Derek didn’t want the boy’s death to be the way he finally realized maybe he did like him. Just a bit. Or maybe a little more than that. Or a lot.
Dammit, he’d fallen a long time ago.
-
Stiles was restricted to his apartment for the next week or so.
The damage hadn’t been bad. Stiles had been hacking up ash for a little bit. He felt like there was a good comparison to how his throat felt but when he tried to tell it to his dad that, the man just groaned and looked like he was questioning all his life choices.
Stiles’s headache had died down though, so that was something. Melissa had kept him in the hospital for longer than was probably necessary but it wasn’t like Stiles was going to die.
Well, he could have died. He just hadn’t.
He had Derek to thank for that. Except the man hadn’t come by the hospital once and after Stiles had been released and he’d knocked on the man’s door, he hadn’t gotten get an answer.
Stiles thought that was just great.
He’d been trying to make moves on the giant hot firefighter asshole for weeks now. But instead, he’d managed to make a fool of himself on numerous accounts and then nearly get himself killed. It was no wonder Derek didn’t want to be around him.
Stiles had been wallowing in self-pity for a little while now.
But then, one day into his confinement, there was a knock on his door. Stiles was pretty sure it was his dad coming to make sure he was sticking to their conditions but then when he opened the door in nothing but his sweatpants, it was Derek instead.
Derek with what looked like a bag of take-out. Derek with wide-eyes as they swept over Stiles’s bare chest and then fixed on his face.
Stiles leaned against the doorway, raising a brow.
“So, you saved me.”
“I did.”
“Then you pretended like I didn’t exist.”
“... I did.”
“Might I ask why?”
“I had some things to figure out,” Derek said quietly. The man’s face really wasn’t fair and Stiles would like to say that he had the right to be mad, except Derek’s apologetic expression was too adorable to be real. Sighing, Stiles glanced at the bag he held.
“And what is that?”
“Soup.”
Stiles still didn’t move. Derek shuffled his feet.
“I uh, lost my key. So I thought I’d see if you were hungry before I went down to get Finstock to unlock my door.”
And Stiles knew that was complete bull. But he couldn't look at Derek’s face and tell him no. So, smothering a small smile, Stiles stepped aside and let the man into his apartment. It was much less tidy than Derek’s.
Stiles decided if the man even said a word about that, he was kicking him out.
But Derek didn’t. Instead, he moved over and set the soup on the table and then turned back toward Stiles. The tips of his ears turned red when he got nervous, Stiles realized. It was kind of adorable.
“So, dude. Soup?”
“I’m glad you’re alive,” Derek said. Stiles blinked.
“I am too, dude.”
“You’re also an idiot.”
“This feels like a confusing kind of statements being mushed together.”
“Can I buy you dinner sometime?”
Stiles stared at him for a moment. Derek’s ears turned even bright red and slowly, Stiles grinned. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweats, kind of enjoying his ability to make the man squirm right now. “I mean, you technically just did.”
“Like actual dinner.”
“Soup isn’t actual dinner?”
“Somewhere else.”
“I’m kind of confined to my apartment for the next few days, dude.”
Derek blinked. Then he studied Stiles’s face and frowned, eyebrows drawing together. Stiles grinned brighter as the man scowled. “You’re messing with me.”
“Just a little.”
“I really hate you.”
“See, I really don’t think you do.”
Derek stepped closer and Stiles yelped, stumbling back against the door. Derek studied his face one more time, a new look sparking through his eyes, and Stiles nervously wet his lips. Derek smirked.
And then the giant hot fireman asshole kissed him.
Stiles supposed that was fair.