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Stiles watched Derek pull at the ends of his hair. Leaning back against the wall, he quietly observed the actions. He chose not to comment on the outward sign of nervousness, knowing that making Derek angry right before the meeting would be a mistake. Instead, he continued to watch.
“It’s a meeting of Alphas in the area,” he’d told Stiles as soon as he’d opened the door. “It happens twice a year on the new moon, and the location is only revealed the day of the meeting. It’s a great honor to be invited.” His voice had uncharacteristically squeaked, and Stiles had to bite back a smile. “Alphas are permitted to bring their seconds if they so choose. It is unwise to choose otherwise.”
“Okay, so I’ll call Boyd for you. What time should-”
“Stiles, for this meeting, you are my second,” Derek told him, pulling him inside the house and looking him over from head to toe. “I guess that will do.”
Stiles glanced down at his gray checked shirt and black skinny jeans. He shrugged. He’d come over when Derek called, not planning on going anywhere fancy. He looked at Derek in his maroon sweater and black jeans. “Are those thumbholes?”
“Cora bought it for me,” Derek said, wiggling his thumbs for a moment before continuing over to the mirror to fuss with his hair.
“What time do we need to leave?” Stiles asked, checking his watch.
“Reservations are for five,” Derek replied.
“Reservations?” Stiles asked, and Derek froze, his eyes widening.
“I mean…shit,” Derek said, turning to face Stiles. The tips of Derek’s ears glowed red in the dim light of the front hallway.
“Do the Alphas hold their secret meeting in a fancy restaurant?” He looked down at himself. “I should change, then.”
Derek shook his head. “You look fine.” Stiles gave him a doubtful look. “You look nice. I like that shirt on you.”
Stiles’ mouth fell open at the compliment, but Derek turned away and grabbed his keys. Stiles followed him to the Camaro, surprised when Derek opened the passenger side door and waited for Stiles to slide inside the car before closing it. He walked around the back of the vehicle, knocking once on the trunk, and Stiles leaned across the seat to push open the driver’s side door before he reached it.
Derek pulled the car out onto the road while Stiles fiddled with the radio until he settled onto a station playing classic rock. He drummed his fingers on his knees and kept glancing over at Derek, who stared at the road ahead of them. He clenched his jaw so tightly that Stiles expected to hear teeth cracking over the radio.
“So, what happens at these meetings?” Stiles asked.
“What?”
“The super-secret Alpha meetings? What happens? What should I expect? Is there some kind of etiquette I should follow? I don’t want to embarrass myself,” Stiles said when he meant he wanted to be prepared so that he wouldn’t embarrass Derek.
Derek’s shoulders relaxed from their tense position. “Stiles, just be yourself.”
“You say that, and then I start talking about how cockroaches can live for nine days without a head or the icebergs contain more heat than a lit match, and then the next thing you know, you’re telling me to-”
“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek interrupted, laughing.
“Yeah, that!”
“We’re here,” Derek said, pulling into the parking lot of a small Italian restaurant in the next biggest city outside Beacon Hills. Stiles had read about it online and wanted to check it out. “Ready?”
Stiles took a deep breath. “If you say so.”
“I say so.”
Derek got out of the car, and Stiles reached for his door, yelping when Derek appeared and pulled it open for him. “You’re being very gentlemanly tonight,” he commented as they walked toward the entrance. Derek smirked and pulled open the door, bowing low with a grand flourish.
“Smartass,” Stiles commented and then slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shit, that was disrespectful. Do you think the other Alphas heard?”
Derek put a hand on the small of Stiles’ back and guided him into the restaurant and up to the host’s stand. “Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?” the young man behind the podium asked, already gathering up two menus and rolls of silverware.
Stiles opened his mouth to say they were meeting a group when Derek’s finger gripped the back of his shirt. “Hale, party of two,” he said.
“Of course, sir, right this way.”
Derek pushed Stiles to get him moving. Stiles moved obediently and took the seat Derek pulled out for him. He remained quiet while the host rattled off the specials and left. “What the hell is going on?” he hissed. Derek bit his lip, focused on his napkin, and laid it in his lap. “Derek?” Stiles asked, voice softer this time, and he reached across the table, his fingers bumping the back of Derek’s hand.
“I lied,” he said after a minute. “There’s no secret Alpha meeting.”
“Then why are we here?” Stiles asked, sitting back when a busboy appeared with a pitcher to fill their water glasses.
“I wanted to have dinner with you.”
“We have dinner together all the….” Stiles trailed off as Derek looked away. “Is this a date?” Derek bit his lip and gave a curt nod. “Wow.”
“We can go,” Derek said.
“I didn’t say that,” Stiles responded, holding out a hand when Derek started to rise. “Why didn’t you just ask me out?”
“I did?”
“No, you told me that we had a super-secret Alpha meeting.”
“A few weeks ago, I asked you to go to dinner with me at the diner. You invited Scott,” Derek said.
“I thought it was a Pack thing,” Stiles responded, remembering the night in question and the way Derek had frowned all through dinner.
“Last week, I asked you to dinner at the pizza place-”
“And Boyd and Erica tagged along.” Another night of frowning Derek and Stiles started to feel bad. He’d wanted to go out with Derek for years, and he’d blown it twice. “That could be a double date.”
Derek shook his head. “In the future, if there is one, double dates are fine, but I didn’t want one for our first date.”
“So, you tricked me?” Stiles tried to keep his amusement from showing.
“It worked, didn’t it?” Derek asked, looking sheepish in a way Stiles hadn’t seen since the night Derek had tried to sweet talk a deputy.
“Yeah, but for the record, so would have asking to have dinner alone with me,” Stiles told him as the waitress approached to take their drink orders.
“So noted,” Derek said, smiling when Stiles reached out to tangle their ankles together under the table.