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Derek stands by the stage, where he always does while he waits for the audience to clear out. The theater lights are still a bit dim, but bright enough that Derek can make out faces and colors in the slowly emptying crowd. Which helps him as he tries to pinpoint the lanky boy that’s been catching Lydia Martin’s show almost nightly.
After scanning the rows and groups of people, he spots that all too familiar chestnut hair and his heart does a weird flip.
Stiles Stilinski.
The minute the tour started, the guy was there. As Lydia’s bodyguard, Derek would constantly remind Stiles to stay behind the ropes while Lydia signed autographs and took pictures with fans after each show. At first, it was annoying. The kid was stubborn and persistent all the while being cute and funny. It wasn’t long before Stiles and his mole-dotted cheeks began to grow on him.
As Derek stood off to the side, an ever vigilant guard to Lydia, Stiles would stand right next to him, talking his ear off. He’d tend to crack jokes about the poor saps who honestly thought they stood a chance with the “strawberry blonde goddess” (Stiles’s words, not his) and Derek couldn’t help but crack a rare smile at a few of them.
Not that Derek doesn’t appreciate Lydia’s beauty, but his taste leans more towards awkward and pale apparently.
They haven’t known each other long, but Derek’s already developed a crush on the young man. With how much Stiles talks, it’s impossible to not feel like he’s known him forever. And because of that, Derek’s been wanting to ask Stiles out for a while now. He just has no clue how or when. Each time he has an opportunity to, he chickens out and then Stiles is gone until the next performance.
The crowd breaks and Stiles appears, smiling widely when they make eye contact. Derek rubs his palms on his pants and blows a shaky breath. He glances around, but doesn’t see Lydia and frowns. Where is she? He’d asked her before the show started if she would talk to Stiles, since she barely acknowledges him the few times they’ve met. That and she could help him finally ask Stiles out.
“Hey, big guy,” Stiles greets as he approaches. “That performance was amazing. Probably the best one so far.”
Derek’s lips twitch up at the corners as he focuses on the man in front of him. “It’s the same one it has been.”
“Yeah, I know.” Stiles lifts himself onto the stage and sits down, swinging his legs. “This is just the first night I actually paid attention to the whole thing.”
“Only tonight?” Derek chuckles. Still acutely aware of his surroundings, he catches sight of Lydia’s strawberry-blonde curls out of the corner of his eye. He looks over as she approaches.
Here goes nothing . He swallows thickly and stands a bit straighter. “Hey Lydia.”
Lydia smiles at them. “Derek. Who’s your friend?”
Derek keeps the smile on his face, somehow. Lydia has met Stiles before, when she did autographs outside the local library. Granted, she doesn’t know all of her fans, but Stiles had stuck around after that. He at least had to be familiar to her.
“I’m Stiles,” Stiles says as he jumps off the stage. Derek hides an amused grin at Stiles’s nervousness; the way his cheeks get rosy as he blushes is adorable. “Must say, I really like this musical. Your voice is just… wow.”
“He’s seen every show,” Derek reminds her, hoping to jog her memory of their conversation from earlier.
“I see. So, what’s your favorite part?” Lydia starts twirling a small strand of hair and Derek’s smile completely drops. Shit.
Derek watches them talk about the musical, both enthused with the whole thing. Well, Stiles is anyway. Lydia’s just standing there, eyes raking over the lanky man with an almost predatory smile on her face. Derek knows what that means; this isn’t what he had planned at all.
“Well, if you ever want to see it up close without a bunch of other people, I’d be more than happy to show you,” Lydia says, taking a step closer to Stiles.
Stiles’s face flushes pink as he stutters and scrambles for words. “O-Oh. Uh, I mean—”
“No need to be shy. We’ll get along just fine.” Lydia winks at Stiles before turning to Derek. “Let’s go.”
Derek clenches his jaw and follows her out to the front by the stage door. He glances back to see Stiles staring after them, jaw dropped. Like he can’t believe Lydia just talked to him. Derek can’t believe it either. At least with how she talked to him.
Lydia relays her plans for the autographs—which never change—so he doesn’t really pay attention. That smile on her face when she’d officially met Stiles gave Derek a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and he hasn’t been able to shake it.
After a while, Lydia gently nudges his shoulder. He looks over to see her expectant gaze. “Go find your friend for me.”
Derek’s brow furrows. “Friend?”
“The one you had me meet today?”
Swallowing thickly, he nods. “You mean Stiles.”
“Yeah, him. Go find him. I want to talk to him.” There’s that smile again that Derek detests. It’s far from the innocent smile she gives after any performance or on the red carpet.
Reluctantly, Derek nods and goes in search of Stiles. A part of him hopes he doesn’t find Stiles, while the other part, the selfish side, does. He knows what Lydia has planned, even if she hasn’t voiced it. It’s just like all the other men she finds an interest in—they’re taken to her hotel room for a night and then forgotten by the next morning. He doesn’t want that to happen to Stiles, which is why he’s so disinclined to find him.
But the part that does want to find Stiles fancies talking to him, spending more time with him, and, of course, warning him about Lydia. Yet, if he interferes, he risks losing his job. He’s done a lot for Stiles and, if he does lose this position, the next bodyguard may not be so friendly.
Derek goes back into the theater only to find it mostly empty—Stiles nowhere to be seen. He then checks the nearest hallway and the large crowd in front of Lydia. Plenty of brown hair is visible, but not chestnut brown, like the one he’s so familiar with. Sighing in a mix of relief and frustration, he heads outside and glances around the busy parking lot.
“You look bored in there,” comes a familiar voice from beside him. Derek turns to see Stiles leaning against a pillar, smiling softly at him.
“Yeah, well, I tend to just stand off to the side during all this,” Derek replies, shoulders relaxing at seeing that familiar face.
“That would be boring.” Stiles pushes off the pillar and walks over. “Is that why you’re wandering then?”
Derek’s jaw ticks when he’s reminded of why he’s here. “Actually, Lydia wanted me to find you. She wants to talk to you.”
“Wait, me ?” Stiles’s eyes go wide in apparent shock. Derek’s not surprised. After all, Stiles comes to the show to see her . Stiles looks at him expectantly, and Derek realizes that he hasn’t answered his question, so he nods. “Oh, uh… okay. What does she want to talk about?”
“No idea.” It’s a hard lie. Derek knows exactly why and it sickens him to imagine Stiles with Lydia.
Stiles furrows his brow, but follows Derek back inside to where Lydia is. Unfortunately, the crowd is gone and Lydia walks over, her green eyes latched onto Stiles like he’s prey.
Derek turns his back on them, not wanting to hear the conversation. Even though he’s heard it plenty of times, he really doesn’t need to watch Lydia toss her hair over her shoulder or watch her bat her eyelashes or lean in and whisper into Stiles’s ear about going to her hotel room. And he definitely doesn’t want to see or hear Stiles say yes.
“Dude!” Derek turns at the loud exclamation. Stiles is giving him an incredulous look and surprise is written all over Lydia’s face.
“What?” Derek asks, utterly confused.
“I’m sorry, but I thought you were asking me out.”
Realization dawns on Lydia’s face and she smiles, albeit a bit forced. “Well, then. I’ll see you later, Derek.” With that, she turns and heads out to the limousine.
Derek stands stunned, watching her leave before looking back at Stiles. “You—You’re not going with her?”
Stiles shakes his head. “No. I mean, she’s great and all, but not who I want.”
Derek’s face heats up when he realizes his mistake. “ Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“I want you , you dork!” Stiles practically yells, arms flailing slightly before gesturing at Derek. “I wasn’t sticking around after all the performances to hang out with her. I was hanging out with you!”
Oh.
Oh.
Derek’s lips part in surprise. “Really?”
Stiles grins. “Yes!” He shakes his head as he walks over and takes Derek’s hands. “Do you wanna go out with me?”
Derek’s eyes widen and he smiles. It’s like a weight is lifted off his shoulders as he holds Stiles’s hands. “Definitely.”