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“That’s it. I can’t read another word or I’m gonna go out of my mind,” Stiles groans as he flips shut his textbook, rolling off his bed and onto the floor.
Scott barely throws him a glance from where he’s sitting in front of his laptop at his desk. “Come on, Stiles. I gotta finish this essay. It’s worth fifty percent of my grade for the class. Also, get off the floor. We haven’t vacuumed in a month.”
Stiles stares at the kernels of popcorn under his bed for a few second before hauling himself up into a sitting position. “Come on, let’s take a walk. Let’s explore campus. Maybe we’ll find a secret passageway in the basement of the arts building and embark on a treacherous journey that pushes us to our limits and forces us to rely only on each other. And in a moment of reprieve, we will confess our deepest, darkest secrets to each other and-”
“Stiles, I already know everything about you,” Scott interjects.
“-one of us will have to sacrifice his life so that the other-wait, excuse you, you don’t already know everything about me. You don’t know all my secrets.”
“Uh, yeah, I do,” Scott says, twisting in his seat to look at Stiles. “I know about the time you called 911 in elementary school because the cafeteria ran out of pizza on Pizza Friday.”
“They knew how many kids went to the school! How can they run out of pizza?”
“And the time you got knocked out of your kayak because you ran into a boat.”
“You can’t tell me what to do just ‘cause you have a bigger boat!”
“And the time you got kicked out of a store for eating all the samples on the tray. Also, when you handcuffed yourself to your bed for hours. And-”
“I’m dating Derek!” Stiles blurts out. Scott stares at Stiles in surprise for a moment. Stiles clenches his teeth in an effort to not cave immediately and admit he’s lying.
“You’re not dating Derek,” Scott says with a shake of his head. “I would know. You would tell me. Probably in excruciating detail.”
“Yeah, well, guess you don’t know everything about me.”
“You…you could’ve told me,” Scott says earnestly, face softening.
Stiles suddenly remembers why he doesn’t keep secrets from Scott. He clears his throat awkwardly. “Well. Derek wanted, uh, to keep it on the down low.”
Scott nodded. “Right. I know he’s a private guy.”
“Right.” Stiles gets off the floor and starts backing out of their room. “I’m just gonna go…take that walk now…by myself…”
Stiles darts out of the room as soon as he’s done talking and Scott just stares after him for a couple seconds before shrugging and getting back to work.
---
Stiles bursts into Derek’s room, bumping into Derek’s floor lamp and barely catching it before it crashes to the floor. Derek sighs and looks up from his book.
“Sorry! Sorry! I need a favor!” Stiles says as he carefully rights the lamp. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend. Hear me out! I know-”
“Okay.”
“-that’s probably the last thing you want to- wait, what?”
“I said, okay,” Derek replies, shrugging.
Stiles narrows his eyes suspiciously at Derek. “What, you’re not going to make me grovel at your feet or do your laundry for a month or write ‘Derek Hale is the best’ on my forehead?”
Derek quirks an eyebrow at Stiles. “If you want to do any of that, please feel free.”
“No, no, I’m good.” Stiles stands awkwardly in the middle of the room. “I’m not sure what to do next. I thought it would take longer to convince you.”
“Why do you need a fake boyfriend?”
“I don’t need a fake boyfriend. I need you as my fake boyfriend. I kind of told Scott that you were my secret boyfriend. Because I was trying to think of something he didn’t already know about me.”
“So you need a fake boyfriend because you can’t keep a secret from him.”
“Not this again,” Stiles groans. “I just blanked, okay? I am a man of mystery! I have many secrets! If you knew them, I would have to kill you!”
The look Derek gives Stiles tells him that Derek seriously doubts that he would be able to even hurt a hair on Derek’s body, but Derek just says, “Sure. How long do you need to do this?”
“Um, well, I need Scott to believe that we’ve been dating for a couple weeks. We can pretend we’re doing the horizontal tango for a couple more weeks and then break up and just say we realized we were better off as friends, no hard feelings.”
“Okay.” Derek shrugs his leather jacket off and tosses to Stiles, who catches it before it hits his face.
“Why are you giving me your jacket?”
“We’re supposed to be dating, right? So, we should probably smell like each other. Especially now that we’re not hiding it,” Derek says matter-of-factly.
“Right!” Stiles looks down at his own plaid shirt and then eyes Derek’s broad shoulders. “Um. I don’t know if anything of mine will fit you.”
“We’ll figure something out.” Derek says confidently. “We should have a safe word. In case one of us does something the other’s not comfortable with. Like ‘Bermuda Triangle’.”
“Alright, I guess, if you want,” Stiles says as he pulls on Derek’s jacket. As he expected, it’s too big, but it’s surprisingly comfortable. Stiles glances back at Derek, giving him a long critical look. “But, really. Why are you playing along with this?”
Derek shrugs nonchalantly. “What am I gonna have to do? Hang out with you and maybe hold your hand? I think I’ll live.”
It’s not really a direct answer, but Stiles lets it go, since Derek’s doing him a solid.
“Uh, Scott’s also probably gonna expect me to flaunt it in his face after enduring years of PDA between him and Allison.”
Derek hoists himself off his bed in a swift move and steps up right in front of Stiles, chests inches apart. Stiles steps back a little and Derek lets him.
“We’ll have to practice kissing then, right? Don’t want it to look like our first time in front of Scott.” Derek says casually.
“Right.”
Derek’s face hovers in front of Stiles’ for a moment as his eyes dart around Stiles’ face, lingering on Stiles’ slightly parted mouth before he drags them up to hold Stiles’ gaze. Nervousness hits Stiles and he forces himself to keep his breathing slow and under control as his world tunnels down to only Derek’s face. Stiles has always known that Derek’s eyes were beautiful, but up close, they almost make Stiles’ breath catch. The weight and focus of Derek’s gaze is so intense that Stiles wants to look away, but he feels like he is on the edge of something and knows that tearing his eyes away would mean backing away from that edge.
When Derek finally leans in, Stiles meets him halfway. Derek’s lips slots easily against Stiles’, his beard rasping against Stiles’ smoother face. Derek crowds even closer against Stiles, his hand coming up to gently cup Stiles’ jaw. The feeling of Derek’s mouth moving against Stiles’ is heady and addicting and becomes more and more urgent as the kiss persists. They break apart slowly, Stiles’ mouth almost subconsciously chasing Derek’s mouth with small pecks before they finally separate. Stiles blinks away his heavy lids as Derek lets go of Stiles’ jaw, but doesn’t step away.
“Wow,” Stiles says dazedly. He wonders how anyone ever stops kissing Derek when he can kiss Stiles, a guy who probably annoys the shit out of him, like that. At Derek’s amused smirk, Stiles hastily adds, “I mean, eh. Had better. Three outta five.”
“Oh, really.” Derek’s smirk is slowly turning into a grin.
“Yeah, really. Shoddy work, Derek. You’re gonna have to step up your game if Scott’s gonna believe we’re an item.”
“Don’t worry about me. If anyone’s gonna give this thing up, it’s you.”
Stiles narrows his eyes. “That sounded like a challenge.”
“Stiles, everything is a challenge to you,” Derek counters, rolling his eyes. “You do realize we’re gonna have to keep up this charade in front of everybody, right? Movie night’s tomorrow and everyone’s gonna be there, not just Scott.”
Stiles scoffs. “Oh, I’m gonna be the best fake boyfriend ever. No one’s gonna suspect a thing.”
---
The jig is up. Their covers are blown. The cat is out of the bag. There’s no way Stiles and Derek are gonna be able to able to pull it off. Derek and Stiles as a couple? Stiles is surprised Scott didn’t laugh in his face. No one’s gonna believe them. Derek’s probably already decided to back out to save his dignity.
Scott walks in on Stiles sitting on his bed and anxiously fiddling with the cuffs of Derek’s jacket.
“You okay, bro?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m just, uh, nervous about how the rest of the gang is gonna react to me and Derek,” Stiles says, straightening up and getting off his bed.
“Oh, I already told them,” Scott says sheepishly. Stiles throws his arms up in the air in exasperation.
“And I’m the one who can’t keep a secret,” Stiles mutters.
“Come on, let’s go,” Scott says, tugging Stiles out of his room.
---
Derek, Allison and Erica are out getting snacks when Scott and Stiles arrive at Derek and Boyd’s suite, so they greet the rest of the pack, who are making food in the kitchen.
When Derek, Allison and Erica come back, Stiles is perched on the couch, mouth wide as he tries to catch the kernels of popcorn that Scott is throwing across the room. As soon as Derek catches sight of Stiles, Derek smiles easily and heads straight for him. Derek sets his bags of snacks on the floor and settles down on the couch, wrapping his arm around Stiles’ shoulders and dropping a quick kiss on Stiles’ lips. Stiles’ eyes widen slightly with surprise at how naturally Derek shows his affection and hopes to God that he’s not blushing. Erica wolf whistles.
“Finally got your head out of your own ass, huh, Stiles?” Isaac remarks. Stiles glares at him.
“Still got yours stuck-” Stiles starts to retort.
“I’m really happy for you guys,” Kira interrupts with a bright smile that makes Stiles feel slightly guilty about lying to his friends.
“Yes, yes, they finally got their shit together. Now, what movie are we watching?” Lydia announcing, drawing attention away from Derek and Stiles.
Derek glances down at Stiles’ jacket and a look of surprised delight flashes across his face. “You’re…you’re wearing my jacket.”
“I’ve decided to keep it. I look much better in it than you anyway,” Stiles says, winking and grinning brightly as a warm feeling blooms inside him for sparking that kind of reaction from Derek.
“Yeah, you do,” Derek replies, playing the role of boyfriend so effortlessly Stiles is not sure what he was ever afraid of.
---
They end up watching Iron Man, since the third movie is coming out soon. While Stiles has seen it two times already, Derek hasn’t watched it yet, even though he’s seen the sequel. Stiles finds himself watching Derek’s face more than the screen, just to catch his reactions. Stiles watches him quirk his lips at amusing dialogue, grimace slightly at violent scenes, and smile at sweet moments. Stiles has a hard time looking away.
Halfway through the movie, Stiles feels his eyelids drooping, sleep tugging him into unconsciousness. With Derek’s side a warm, comfortable line against his own, he lets himself drift off.
When he wakes up, there’s a soft blanket over him and the television is off. The only one left in the room is Derek, who is putting away containers of food in the fridge. Stiles blinks sleep out of his eyes and moves to sit up, tugging the blanket off his body. Derek looks at him at the sound of movement and gives him a soft smile.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Stiles replies, voice still rough with sleep. He clears his throat. “Where’d everyone go?”
“They already left. Boyd is at Erica’s. They wanted to give us some privacy,” Derek says wryly. “I think Scott’s expecting you to be gone for the night, so you can take my bed.”
“No, it’s your bed, man,” Stiles protests. “I’m already on the couch anyway.”
Derek considers him for a moment before speaking. “We can share if you like. That way, you can transfer your scent to me. I once heard a certain someone say they were the cuddle master.”
“Okay, I was drunk when I said that, but I still stand by it. And I’ll prove it to you,” Stiles says, his voice barely shaking, which he counts as a win.
“I look forward to it,” Derek says, smirking.
Derek hands him an extra toothbrush and pants to sleep in before Stiles rushes into the bathroom and locks the door behind him.
“Okay, Stiles,” he says as stands in front of the bathroom mirror, staring his reflection in the eye. “You can do this. You’ve got this. You've faced certain death before; you can deal with a little cuddling.”
He quickly brushes his teeth and changes into Derek’s pants before leaving the bathroom.
“All yours, buddy,” Stiles says as Derek slips by him to get to the bathroom. Stiles enters Derek’s bedroom, but just stops in front of the bed and stares at it. The bed is made up, the bed sheet and blanket neatly spread out across the bed. What college student even makes their bed?
Stiles hears the bathroom door open and before he can psych himself out, he’s slipping under the blanket. Derek comes into the room, shutting the light before moving to and into the bed.
“Big or little spoon?” Derek asks quietly.
Stiles wants to laugh at how ridiculous Derek sounds, but instead, he just says, “Your choice.”
“Alright, turn your back to me,” Derek directs softly. Stile turns his shoulders away from Derek and soon feels Derek’s arm wrapping around his waist and gently tugging him against Derek’s chest. Stiles lets out a ragged breath at the feeling of Derek’s muscles shifting against his back and Derek’s warm breathing against his neck. Stiles lets his own arm rest on the arm Derek has draped over his waist, his hand loosely circling Derek’s wrist. Stiles has to keep his breathing under control, but the quickening of his heart beat probably betrays his nervousness.
“Relax,” Derek says into Stiles’ ears. Stiles snorts to cover up the slight shiver that runs down his spine.
“Wow, now that you’ve told me to relax, I have suddenly become super calm and at ease,” Stiles says sarcastically. Stiles can practically feel Derek rolling his eyes, but Derek doesn’t say anything else. Stiles soon hears Derek’s breath even out as he falls asleep and shortly after, Stiles follows suit.
In the morning, Stiles finds Derek making eggs and bacon in the kitchen. The sun bathes Derek in its bright morning light, his face and body relaxed in a way that Stiles doesn’t see very often. When Derek looks up and gives him a soft smile, the wrinkles at the corners of Derek’s eyes barely visible, Stiles feels as light as a feather.
---
True to his word, Stiles undertakes the role of boyfriend with gusto over the next couple of weeks. Stiles brings Derek coffee when he’s studying in the library with Erica and Boyd. He kisses Derek hello and goodbye when their friends are around, pecking him lightly on the lips. He wears Derek’s jackets and sweaters to class. When Derek complains about Stiles tracking dirt into his suite, Stiles buys him a doormat that says, Go Away. Stiles convinces Erica to play Love Story on her radio show and dedicate it to Derek. He buys Derek a cheaply made Oscar trophy that says, Best Boyfriend. He hires an a cappella to perform a singing telegram for Derek. He orders Derek a sweater that has SOURWOLF knitted across the chest.
Derek gives as good as he gets. He holds Stiles’ hand when they walk to class and rubs Stiles’ fingers between his hands when they’re cold. He buys Stiles an ensemble of plaid pants, plaid socks and a plaid scarf to go with his plethora of plaid shirts. Derek runs his fingers through Stiles’ hair when Stiles lays his head on Derek’s thigh. When Stiles accidentally sets off the fire alarm while microwaving popcorn, Derek buys him a 12-pack case of pre-popped popcorn from Costco. He gives Stiles a custom-made award ribbon that says, Giant Pain in the Ass, and Stiles wears it for three days. Derek changes his relationship status on Facebook, which he never even uses, and Stiles spends fifteen minutes freaking out about it in a bathroom stall before calmly walking past the guy brushing his teeth at the sink and giving Stiles a knowing smirk.
It’s…surprisingly easy. Stiles starts looking forward to the nights he stays over in Derek’s room, curled around Derek and bantering until they fall asleep. His own sweaters and jackets are left to gather dust in his closet. Derek always complains loudly as Stiles scrambles around his room five minutes before class starts, but still never fails to catch a hold of his hand even as they rush to class. Weeks go by, and neither of them even mentions putting a stop to it.
Things are pretty good. Stiles can’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop. It does.
---
“It’s a fucking snow day!” Stiles yells as he barges into Derek’s room. Derek’s sitting cross-legged on his bed, his laptop balanced on his legs as he types away.
“Imagine if I locked my doors. Where would your dramatic entrances be then?” Derek mutters. “You might have the day off, but my professor still expects a response online by eight tonight.”
“Eight? You have like ten hours, then!” Stiles bounces onto Derek’s bed, grabbing a pillow and swiping it at Derek’s arm. Derek ignores him. Stiles hits him harder in the face.
Without looking away from his laptop, Derek grabs the pillow out of Stiles’ grasp with one hand and whacks it against Stiles so hard that he gets knocked off the bed.
“Okay, I’ll wait,” Stiles says from the floor.
An hour later, they’re sitting on flattened out cardboard boxes with the rest of the pack at the top of the steep slope at the back of the library. Lydia is sitting on some cardboard, but refuses to slide down the hill on it.
“Everybody ready to rumble?” Stiles yells.
“No,” Derek deadpans from his left.
“Born ready!” Scott shouts on Stiles’ right. Kira gives Stiles the thumbs up from her place next to Scott.
“First four, let’s go!” Scott, Stiles, Derek, and Kira awkwardly scoot their makeshift sleds along the top of the hill until the sleds are sliding on their own. Stiles grips the front of the piece of cardboard as he speed down the slope, wind and snow whipping at his face. He lets out a loud, obnoxious howl and is elated when he hears resounding howls on both sides of him. As he approaches the bottom, he starts digging his heels into the snow to slow himself down. When Stiles finally stands up, he’s panting a little, but grinning from ear to ear.
“That’s an impressive howl you got there,” Stiles says, smirking.
“Compared to yours, sure,” Derek quips.
Stiles opens his mouth to respond, but yelps instead when his legs swiped out from underneath him. The breath is knocked out of him when he lands hard on his back. He lifts his head to see Isaac laughing at him as his makeshift sled skids to a stop. Stiles groans and lets his head thump back onto the ground.
Suddenly, Derek’s gloved hand is covering his nose.
“Uh, Derek, what are you doing?” Stiles asks, looking at the hand over his nose with crossed eyes.
“Your nose is red. I’m just warming it up,” Derek says. The look on Derek’s face stuns Stiles. There is a fond smile playing on his lips and his kind eyes look so close to adoring and Stiles suddenly realizes that his own face probably looks exactly like Derek’s except Derek is pretending and Stiles…is not. An overwhelming sense of dread strikes his chest at the realization that he never wants this to end and that it inevitably will.
He doesn’t even try to work the phrase into a sentence. “Bermuda Triangle.”
Derek’s face drops immediately and he yanks his hand away like he had been burned. Scott stares at Stiles in confusion as he fumbles to get up.
“I-I gotta-” Stiles stutters, refusing to look Derek in the eye, even when Derek puts his hand on his arm. “I gotta go. I’m sorry. Fuck.”
Stiles stumbles up the hill as quickly as he can, leaving Derek at a loss behind him.
---
Stiles is curled up under his blanket when someone bangs into the room. He tenses up when a hand tugs at the blanket to uncover Stiles’ face, but is relieved to see Scott standing over his bed.
“What’s going on? What was that?” Scotts asks, a look of concern etched across his face.
“Nothing,” Stiles says petulantly.
“Stiles," Scott chastises. "I know you better than that.”
Stiles sighs and covers his face with his hands. “I just realized something, is all. That Derek and I won’t work.”
Scott furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “What? What do you means? I’ve never seen you happier than in the last couple weeks.”
“That’s the problem.”
Scott just shakes his head. “You’re not making any sense, Stiles.”
Stiles shoots up into a sitting position, suddenly enough that Scott takes a step back. “I said, that’s the problem! I’ve never been happier than in the last couple of weeks of this fucking fake relationship. I was lying to you. I’m sorry. I think, deep down, I actually wanted to be in a relationship with Derek, so I fucking convinced him to pretend to be my boyfriend. And it was amazing. But it wasn’t real.”
“Wasn’t it?” Scott asks as he takes a seat on top of Stiles’ covers.
It’s Stiles’ turn to be confused. “What? Of course not.”
“Dude, he looked at you like I used to look at Allison.”
“I know. And it wasn’t real,” Stiles repeats.
“Why do you think he even agreed to it, Stiles?”
“I…I don’t know,” Stiles says softly. He pulls the covers off himself and swings his legs over the side of the bed so that he’s sitting next to Scott.
“He wouldn’t just do it for the hell of it, Stiles.”
“You’re right. I don’t know why he even agreed to it,” Stiles said, shaking his head.
“Maybe you should find out,” Scott urges. Stiles turns his head to look at Scott, who has that stupidly sincere look on his face.
“Scott. I’m afraid,” Stiles says, panic edging into his voice. “I’m afraid of what will happen if we talk.”
Scott gives him an encouraging smile. “If you don’t, you will end up ruining any chance you have at all.”
Stiles takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “I know.”
---
Stiles only has to knock once before the door is flying open and Derek is standing in front of him, nervousness practically radiating from him. Stiles resists the urge to turn tail and run.
“You, uh, knocked. You never knock,” Derek says. Stiles just shrugs, so Derek steps aside and lets Stiles walk into his suite before closing the door behind him. “I wanted to go after you, but Scott wanted to talk to you first. Did…did I do something wrong, Stiles?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Derek,” Stiles says as he paces back and forth across the room.
“Then why did you leave all of a sudden?” Derek asks, following Stiles with his eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry if I crossed any boundaries and made you uncomfortable.”
“Like I said, it wasn’t your fault. It was…it was becoming too real,” Stiles confesses, looking at his moving feet instead of Derek.
“Oh,” Derek says quietly. Stiles closes his eyes in defeat.
“I’m sorry, Derek. I never knew that this was going to happen,” Stiles apologizes, stopping to rest his forehead against the wall. He laughs disbelievingly and his voice is thick when he says, “I can’t believe that’s what broke me. You covering up my nose with your hand. No. That’s a lie. It was that look in your eyes. And the feeling that just fucking overwhelmed me when I saw it. Like I wanted you to look at me like that for the rest of my life.”
“I do.”
“What?” Stiles asks, turning back around to give Derek a look of bewilderment.
“I do want to look at you like that for the rest of my life,” Derek says, stepping closer to Stiles. Stiles doesn’t step back.
“I don’t…I don’t understand,” Stiles stutters.
“Remember when I first kissed you?”
Stiles gives a small smile at the memory. “Yeah?”
“I don’t just kiss anybody like that, Stiles. Do you want to know why I agreed? Because I thought it was the closest I would ever get to being your boyfriend,” Derek admits. A tentative and nervous hope starts creeping into Stiles’ mind as Derek speaks. “I thought it was a win-win situation. You got your fake boyfriend and I got to pretend that you loved me back for a while. And then we would go back to normal and you never had to know.”
Stiles searches Derek’s face for any signs of dishonesty, but he knows he won’t find any. Stiles can hear the raw emotion in Derek’s voice and see the sincerity in his face, and he realizes with a sudden and freeing clarity that there’s nothing standing in their way.
Stiles surges forward, pressing his mouth against Derek’s, hard and desperate. Stiles can practically feel the tension leave his shoulders as one of Derek’s arms wraps around his back and his other hand cups the back of Stiles’ neck.
When they finally break apart, both panting lightly, Stile looks Derek in the eye and asks, “Will you be my real boyfriend, Derek Hale?”
“If you insist,” Derek says, grinning.
Stiles grins back. “Oh, I insist.”
---
Scott jumps in his seat when Stiles slams open the door three hours later, fresh hickeys littering his neck. “Scott.”
“What?” Scott asks warily.
“Remember when you said that I would tell you about my relationship with Derek in excruciating detail if I were actually dating him?” Stiles asks with a glint in his eye.
“Yeah?”
“You were right,” Stiles says, grinning.
Scott gives a long sigh. “Alright, close the door. I don’t need our neighbors to think we’re weirder than they already do.”