Work Text:
Det spelar ingen roll hur bra jag dansar när du tittar på nån annan
Ah-ah, nån annan
Jag flyter runt i folkhavet och ni har redan drunknat i varandra
Ah-ah, varandra
Det skulle vara jag, det skulle vara du
Det skulle vara vi som andas in varann som ni gör nu
Det skulle vara jag, det skulle vara du
Det skulle vara vi som ramlat hem tillsammans
Men du har nån annan nu
Nån Annan Nu - Molly Sandén
(Translation in end notes)
The tension between them hasn’t gone unnoticed by their friends. Stiles has seen the meaningful looks they keep sending him. And felt their hard elbows bruise his ribs in particularly edgy moments. Cora’s elbows have always been the sharpest, he’s noted. He suspects it’s because their friendship is as surprising as it is strong; he’d often gone to the loft, and later the new Hale house (conveniently located half a mile away from the original one) to bug Derek, and ended up with Cora instead when the older man made himself scarce. They’d connected over bad takeout and crime shows, and gotten even closer when Stiles decided to teach Cora how to cook so that the Hale siblings might one day stop living on said takeout.
The relationship between Stiles and Derek remained friendly and based on early morning talks, after Stiles crashed on their living room sofa and Cora was still asleep, as well as late night research when Derek would climb through his window despite the fact that the Sheriff knew about werewolves and had told him he was welcome to use the front door. Some habits die hard. Stiles watched Derek grow and become a kind and wise alpha, admiring from afar, but subtly testing the waters by flirting. Derek mostly responded favourably, but Stiles previous experience with romance and his late realisation of being demisexual - in combination with Derek’s relationship history - had kept him from going further. With anyone, both Derek and not. Derek shared no such scruples, and regularly had one night stands - but never anything substantial. Stiles saw the charm, even if he didn’t feel the pull himself.
Cora had finally convinced him to make the first move, because she was convinced that regardless what Derek felt, he would never do it. And they both deserved something good. So she’d suggested they go out dancing, something most of the pack enjoyed, and if not, they enjoyed sitting around with a beer to watch others dancing. Derek and Stiles were dancing with each other somewhere in the middle of the floor. Stiles could swear he’d seen Erica and Boyd just a second earlier to their right, but they seemed to have disappeared. Not surprising for the two of them. Lydia, Alison and Scott were further into the crowd, closer to the speakers.
“Hey, wanna get out of here?” Stiles leans in so he can talk to Derek - it’s more for his own benefit, as he’s sure Derek could hear him anyway if he needed.
“And do what?”
“I don’t know... grab some food,” Stiles responds with a crooked smile. “Talk and chill. Watch some Netflix.” He looks up through his lashes at Derek, gives him a salacious, slow smile. He’s sure Derek can read the implication in his expression.
“Are you asking me out or something?” Derek’s expressive eyebrows climb higher on his forehead, but he doesn’t actually look confused.
“Yeah.” Stiles shrugs despite himself. Derek stares. Bites out a surprised laugh.
“Good one, Stiles,” he says and continues laughing, shaking his head. “You’re so funny!”
“Heh,” Stiles gets out. “Yeah, that’s me - super funny!” Stiles feels hollow but he keeps dancing for a bit to keep up appearances. He’s the master of pretending and he almost wishes for the time when Derek saw through him constantly, and not just when he wanted him to. Eventually he says he’s going to get a new drink when Malia and Kira show up on the dancefloor, bumping into his hip with a few laughs.
Cora finds him at the bar, knuckles white from gripping the edge of the bar top and a bartender trying to get his attention. She approaches slowly, unsure if he’s anxious because Derek said yes or because he said no.
“How did it go?” She asks, putting a hand on his arm. Her face falls at the sight of Stiles grimacing, hard.
“He laughed.” The silence is uncomfortable as Cora tries to process.
“He what?”
“He doesn’t think of me like that.” Stiles explains, turning to look in her direction, but not meeting her gaze. “He laughed.”
“Wh- are you ok-“
“I’m fine.” he interrupts, turning back to the bar.
“You sure? We can-“
“I’ll be fine, Cora.” He flags down the bartender again and asks for a shot and a beer, Cora watching him. “I’m going back to the booth,” he says after paying, leaving her at the bar to return to the booth where Isaac is nursing something colorful; no doubt courtesy of Kira. Cora stays behind to process, shaking her head at the bartender when he approaches her.
She eventually makes her way back to the booth as well, and becomes a warm, but silent, present at Stiles’ side. It’s been 10, maybe 15 minutes when she senses Derek approaching and her head turns in his direction. She’s never really surprised to see her brother smiling anymore, and the man plastered to his back, pawing at his hips, is a lot less welcome - but also not surprising.
She feels Stiles stiffen beside her when he catches sight of them - they’re moving slowly, with the pulse of the crowd. Stiles deliberately tears his eye off the two men, turning his entire body in Cora’s direction. Isaac blinks at Cora in concern, their conversation abruptly cut short by Stiles movements.
“Move.” The word is clipped.
“What do you-“
“I’m going home. Move,” he insists.
“Stiles...”
“Cora. Please.” He finally looks right at her, eyes pleading. “I don’t begrudge him his fun, but I don’t particularly want to watch it right now.”
“...okay,” she sighs. She moves out of the way and he slides out, standing up, downing his beer.
“Later, Isaac,” Stiles tosses at Isaac who raises his hand in response.
“How are you getting home?” Cora asks.
“I’ll walk,” Stiles mutters, shrugging on his jacket - fished from the pile that occupied one of the chairs.
“Stiles.” Cora grabs his elbow, turning him to her.
“...I’ll call Jordan,” he concedes, and she can hear he isn’t lying.
“Good. Text me when you get home.” She leans into him; it looks like a hug, but they both know she scents some of his distress and she wants to cover it with the scent of pack instead. He indulges her for a few seconds before backing off.
“Tell the others I left.” He says, nodding towards the remaining pack out on the dance floor.
“I will.” She watches him leave - he doesn’t spare a glance backwards or around him. She sees the back of his head disappear out towards the door just as Derek makes it to the table, his new paramour in tow. Allison, Lydia and Scott plunks down in the booth beside Isaac, Lydia snatching Isaacs drink from him, which he half-heartedly protests to, causing the others to laugh.
“Where’d Stiles go?” Derek asks, nodding in the direction Stiles disappeared.
“You’re a dick!” Is the response her brain settles on, and it’s out before she can reign it back in. The others' laughter fall into silence.
“What?” Derek looks shocked and his beau looks uncomfortable- he can no doubt sense the tension.
“...I’m sorry. I did not actually mean to say that out loud.” She doesn’t sound particularly apologetic, but her intentions are true.
“Okay,” Derek drags the word out, observing his sister. “But it also wasn’t a lie. Wanna tell me what this is about?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Cora...” Isaac tries - regardless what happened, he knows Stiles would rather shoot himself in the foot than come between Cora and Derek.
“No, are you fucking serious?” Cora has already worked herself up.
“Cora I don’t-“ Derek tries.
“When I finally found you again, there were a lot of parts of you that I missed from when you were a teenager,” She’s ranting at her brother now, “but the self-important, mean, arrogance with which you and your friends turned people down because they dared ask you out was not one of them. What the fuck, Derek?” The guy behind Derek looks uncomfortable and Derek himself looks genuinely confused.
“What are you- How is this related to Stiles leaving?” He tries, hands held out in a defensive gesture.
“You laughed at him, Derek.” Cora spits and there is silence. “He asked you out, and you fucking laughed.” There is noise behind her, but she can’t focus on it - it’s probably Scott feeling insulted on his brother’s behalf.
“Wh- no. No! He didn’t mean that. He was just joking, he flirts all the time with-“
“With you. He flirts all the time with you. He doesn’t flirt with anyone else. Not even jokingly!”
“Lydia-“
“He hasn’t flirted with Lydia since before college. He’s 27 now.” Cora insists. The woman in question gives Derek an unimpressed look from where she’s perched at the end of the booth.
“But I...” Derek trails off.
“We thought you knew, man.” Isaac steps in, softer than Cora, but still visibly disappointed. “You flirted back so blatantly, so we thought you felt the same - we thought you were both just too scared to make a move.”
“I think I’m gonna go...” Derek’s boo says, hesitant, like he wants Derek to protest or follow.
“Yeah, how about you fuck off.” Cora glares.
“Cora!” Derek automatically reprimands her.
“Oh, shut up.” Cora spits. “I just watched one of my closest friends walk out of here with his heart stomped on because my brother, despite all his alpha-wisdom-”
“Alpha..?” the faint sound of Derek’s dance partners, but he’s silenced by a venomous glare from Lydia.
“- is an insensitive moron.” Cora shakes her head. “You don’t have to like him back, but how dare you, Derek?” Derek just stares. “How fucking dare you?”
“I didn’t know! How was I supposed to know?” He eventually manages. The look Cora levels him with is not kind.
“You’re a fucking werewolf with supersenses - how the fuck do you think?” The silence that follows is deafening, and it takes Derek a moment to sort through his head.
“Where’d he go?”
“What?” Cora blinks at him.
“Where’d he go?!” Derek insists.
“Home, obviously,” she replies slowly, “he was gonna call Jordan to come and- Derek!” Derek turns to go after Stiles. In a split second Cora decides to go after. She pushes past Derek’s potential paramour - possibly a little harder than necessary, as he chokes out a breath when her shoulder connects with his sternum - keen eye on her brothers back.
“I think it’s time you move along,” she hears Lydia in the distance behind her, voice pleasant but cold.
When Cora makes it to the door, her brother is already outside, and she stops a few steps behind him. She sees Stiles opening the door to a car further down the road, and her brothers heaving shoulders in her periphery.
“Stiles!” Derek calls out, and Stiles freezes with the car door in hand. For a second she thinks he’s going to ignore her brother, but he hesitates, turning his head to look at them both. He locks eyes with Cora, and nods before getting in.
“I ruined it,” Derek says when she steps up beside him. She turns her head to observe him when the car pulls away from the curb. She must see something in his expression, same as she saw in Stiles nod, because she treads her arms gently around his with a soft smile.
“Maybe not, big brother,” she responds, leaning her head on his shoulder.
“Maybe not.”