Work Text:
Derek finds the guitar under his bed one day when he’s looking for a dropped sock. He pulls it out, cleaning the dust off it, thinking about when he bought it in college so many years ago, intending to teach it to himself.
He strums it experimentally, wincing at the sound. He’s not really sure how to tune it, but he’s got a lot of spare time now that it’s summer and he’s not actually teaching any summer classes this year. Kindergartners can be a handful, but at least during the year he has a structure and a teaching schedule. Parents' expectations from summer classes usually wear him out, and Derek’s tired of being seen as a glorified babysitter.
This summer Derek has no real obligations; and he’s taking a much deserved break. Picking up a hobby would be perfect. Dating someone would be nice too, but Derek doesn’t really know how to interact with anyone who isn’t five years old, and he kind of needs to work on his social skills before he feels ready for a relationship.
But for now, the guitar.
Derek pulls up YouTube, intent on pulling up some tutorials on tuning the thing and maybe progressing to learning chords or something, but after an hour he gives up. He keeps having to pause and replay things, and he wants to ask specific questions. Plus he’s not very motivated to keep going after every sound he makes sounds screechy and terrible.
Laura calls around noon to ask what he’s up to, so Derek tells her about the guitar and giving up on learning the damn thing. It’s a shame, because he really liked the idea of being able to learn some songs and playing for the kids or something. Maybe write songs about sharing, or not eating glue.
“Really? Just go get a tutor or something,” Laura says.
Derek frowns. “Do people still put up flyers in coffeeshops and stuff for things like this?”
“It’s all online, bro. Just go on Craigslist, there’s a whole section for random stuff.”
They finish up the conversation easily, and Derek sets down his phone, looking for this Craigslist that Laura talked about.
He knows he’s not as up to date on the latest Internet trends or whatever, and it kind of boggles his mind that there are so many people posting so many variations of classifieds on here. Derek doesn’t understand all the categories when he decides to post his own, but decides “casual encounters” is probably what he’s looking for. He doesn’t want like a formal teacher or anything, or a classroom setting, just someone who he can ask questions and get answers from.
The website is asking for more specific things for the post and Derek isn’t sure what they are, so he texts Laura for help, telling her he’s making a Craigslist post and what section he’s in.
Laura texts back, use m4m, you’ll get more musicians that way ;) so Derek takes her advice and selects that option.
The post itself is fairly simple, and there’s an option for a photo too, so Derek supposes that people would want to know what kind of guitar he has. He doesn’t have a guitar stand and it looks weird lying down, so he just picks up the guitar and takes a picture of him holding it in his bathroom mirror.
The finished post reads: "I've been wanting to do this for years, and I can’t really take just watching videos by myself anymore, and I’d appreciate help. I'm available after 6 p.m. Thursday-Saturday. Give me a call and bring your instrument."
Derek smiles, satisfied with himself, and goes to work out for awhile. He comes back an hour later to check his email and is floored with the replies forwarded to his email account.
Derek is so startled by the first image he nearly falls off the chair. He looks again to make sure that it is what he thought-- yep, someone sent him a picture of their dick.
It’s a grainy photo, coupled with a hand holding a beer can-- to what, illustrate how big it is? And no greeting or text, just a phone number.
Derek deletes the email.
The next one also has a dick pic, and Derek scowls. Is he getting pranked or something? Not that this isn’t a nice picture-- it’s obvious that the man who has taken it took some thought into the composition and lighting, and there’s a nice looking torso and defined thighs in the shot which makes Derek slightly interested-- at least until he sees the Confederate flag hanging in the wall behind the man.
Derek goes through each email that’s forwarded by Craigslist, shaking his head in disbelief. Some people do write messages, but they’re all lewd, some of them making terrible puns, comparing their penis to an instrument (one even poses with his dick next to a clarinet), but they’re all come-ons. None of them offer to teach him guitar, none of them talk about how much guitar they know, and one of them writes an essay on fine detail how much they’d like Derek to fuck them.
What in the world, Craigslist. Derek’s a healthy bisexual guy and everything, and he can appreciate a nice photo of a man’s body, but this kind of a response from someone looking for a guitar tutoring session is really unexpected.
There is one normal seeming email though, a simple message saying that he’s interested and would love to meet up and that he plays the guitar. And the attached photo is cute, too, a guy sitting in a messy bedroom, holding up his guitar and looking hopefully up at the camera with big brown eyes. Derek shakes his head out of the gutter; he’s probably in this weird mood because all the other emails put sex on his brain, and now he’s thinking about this guy-- Stiles, from the email-- in this context.
Derek gets a hold of himself and texts the number given in the email about meeting in the local park at five.
The responding text simply says great! see you there ;) which makes Derek feel strangely excited. He’s hanging out with someone! Being social with an adult who isn’t a family member!
The park isn’t too crowded, it’s a nice afternoon, and Derek gets a few curious looks as he walks with his guitar, but nobody pays him much attention. He plops down by the large oak tree in the center of the park, sitting in the grass, waiting expectantly.
Sure enough, at five o’clock, Derek spots the guy from the photo walking towards him, holding a guitar and waving brightly at him.
“Hi, I’m Stiles,” he says, shaking Derek’s hand warmly.
Derek smiles at him and says, “Derek.” He looks even cuter in person, but Derek isn’t about to tell him that.
“Really nice to meet you, I was kind of surprised you answered me, actually. Pretty sure a guy like you would have had the pick of the lot, you know? Plus it's Friday night, lots of people--” he stops himself while he’s ahead, just kind of staring. “Right, well, um you said bring an instrument--”
“Can you teach me how to play?” Derek says.
“Ye--yeah, sure, we can do that. I wasn’t sure what you had planned, but you said ‘park’ and ‘bring your instrument’ but I brought us some stuff for a picnic? If you wanna do that?” Stiles smiles broadly at him, and shows him the contents of his backpack-- Derek sees a few different kinds of cheese and a container full of fruit, including a whole bunch of strawberries.
“Yeah, that sounds great,” Derek says. It’s almost like a date, except that it isn’t, and Stiles is just here to help him play.
He’s funny, and smells nice, when he scoots up right next to Derek to show him how to tighten the strings and tune the guitar, Derek gets a little breathless. And then Stiles takes Derek’s hand and positions his fingers over the frets, and Derek wants very badly for this to be an actual date. Would it be bad form to ask out your tutor?
Stiles starts teaching him some actual chords, and laughing and joking when Derek messes up, and he actually doesn’t get weirded out when Derek tells him he’s a kindergartner teacher. Most people make jokes, but Stiles seems to be fascinated.
“Yeah, that’s awesome, kids are great. I’m a grad student over at BHU and let me tell you, some of the undergrads in the classes I am a TA for act like five year olds sometimes. Or worse, since they don’t have an excuse!”
They swap stories about teaching, and Derek is surprised how well the conversation goes, how fluid and easy it is. Stiles is bright and witty, and Derek finds himself talking to him and laughing at his jokes more than learning guitar, but that’s okay. He can concentrate better on the next lesson. And yeah, he’s definitely gonna schedule another lesson if he can just watch those fingers dance across those strings again.
By the end of an hour Derek’s learned how to successfully play two different chords, and he’s watching Stiles strum out a tune that’s familiar but he can’t quite place. It’s really nice, though and Derek tells Stiles as much so, and he blushes.
It’s cute.
They eat the food Stiles brought, and Stiles even jokingly feeds Derek a grape, which should make Derek feel embarrassed but he doesn’t want to bring attention to how the gesture could be taken as flirtatious. Stiles probably felt bad that Derek was fumbling to pick up the slippery things and wanted to help him out, yeah.
“I had a really good time,” Derek says to Stiles, just as it’s starting to get dark. They stayed to watch the sunset, with Stiles playing a tune softly on the guitar, it’s the nicest afternoon Derek’s had in ages.
“Me too,” Stiles says, leaning closer, and before Derek can register what’s happening, he’s dropping a soft kiss on Derek’s lips.
Derek is so surprised he doesn’t know how to react, and after a second Stiles pulls back.
“Uh, sorry, I thought the date was going really well, and I-- um--” he fumbles over his words, turning a bright red.
“Date? I thought we were meeting up for a guitar lesson,” Derek says, shocked. “If this was a date I would have dressed nicer!” He looks down at his old t-shirt and faded sweatpants.
“You look good in the sweatpants,” Stiles mumbles. “You really didn’t think this was a date? I like fed you grapes and everything. We watched the sunset! You posted in the hookup section of Craigslist!”
“I…what.” Derek is gonna have words with Laura.
Stiles looks at his feet, gathering up the picnic materials and stuffing them in his backpack. “It’s okay, I’m really sorry, I knew this was too good to be true,” he mumbles. “It was nice meeting you.”
And then he’s walking away.
Derek comes to his senses and grabs Stiles by the hand before he starts down the path. “Wait,” he says. “Look, I didn’t know it was a date but I’d like it to be. I did mean it, when I had a good time. Thank you for the picnic, and everything. I was gonna ask you if you were free to do another lesson sometime, but I’d really rather ask you on a date.”
Stiles brightens up and his whole body relaxes in relief. “That’s great, because I wouldn’t be able to teach you much else on the guitar. I only know how to play Wonderwall, and that’s kind of stretching it, really. I’ve never managed to make it past the chorus before someone tells me to shut up.”
Oh, that’s what that song was. “You can play me the song, I won’t tell you to shut up,” Derek says, smiling.
“Really,” Stiles says, lifting his eyebrows, and Derek nods.
Stiles holds up his guitar, and starts playing the song. Now that Derek knows which one it is, he can easily pick out the tune, especially when Stiles starts humming along to it, swaying, and then singing, “And after all… you’re my wonderwall…”
He’s a better guitar player than singer, voice warbling, but it’s cute anyways, and Derek watches him indulgently until a couple on a park bench across the way call out, “Just kiss him already!” and “Put us out of our misery!”
Derek shyly steps forward, but Stiles just laughs and pulls him in for a kiss.
It feels like a good beginning, anyways.