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Stiles has been waiting his entire life for this moment.
He dreamed of it when he was a kid – despite all the others telling him it was silly and stupid and they didn’t want it for themselves. He never listened. He was too lost in thought on how it would be like.
He’d seen hundreds of people have the experience before, and call it stupid, but it made him excited just thinking about it.
He just didn’t think it would happen now.
His heart stopped, he swears to god, for a second, his eyes wide and jaw dropped. All the noise around him ceased for a brief moment. He couldn’t believe it was really happening! This is what his whole life had led up to!
He would tell his grandchildren this story, one day.
The noise returned, and he caught his breath. People cheered all around him, even a few dancing and someone patting him on the back, because…
He was on the kiss cam screen at a Met’s game.
Stiles grinned, looking over to his left, where his date sat beside him.
On his phone.
In the middle of their kiss cam.
“Matt,” Stiles said, trying to get his attention. He ignored him, even after Stiles leaned in and whispered in his ear, and nudged him. Stiles’ face fell, and his chest squeezed, because he thinks he’d even told Matt about the cameras before. It hurt.
Everyone around them booed, and Stiles’ chest felt heavy. His cheeks burned bright red with humiliation and embarrassment. It felt like everyone was staring at him, and oh god, he was going to die of embarrassment in front of possibly tens of thousands of people.
Didn’t Matt care, like at all?
He wanted the ground to swallow him. Maybe if he just up and ran –
Someone tapped his shoulder, and he whipped his head around to his right side. A very, very attractive man stared at Stiles, a half smirk and eyebrow raised before he started slowly leaning, as if giving Stiles a chance to back away.
Instead, Stiles smirked back, because not only was this dude way hotter than Matt, he also gave him the time of day.
So he flung up the arm rest on his right side (thank god there was no beer left in there), sat on the stranger’s lap and aggressively, triumphantly kissed him. The mysterious, hot dude put his hands around Stiles, because if they were locking lips, an arm around the waist wouldn’t be overstepping. Not the way Stiles had invited himself into the dude’s personal space.
To Stiles’ delight and surprise, the kiss was amazing. Or the man was amazing. He felt more passion and (for lack of better word) sparks than he ever had with Matt. When the sound filled his ears after they pulled back, he noticed everyone was now cheering, rooting them on, and whistling. Stiles’ cheeks tinted a deeper shade of red and he looked down, because how was he supposed to look anyone in the eyes now?
He bit his lip shyly a few seconds later, braving through the doubt to look at Matt. He wondered if Matt would even notice.
And then Stiles burst out laughing, his hand flying to cover his mouth. Matt was drenched. In a Slurpee.
Red chunks of dyed ice dripped down his shocked, angered face and he could help the (as he’d been informed by Matt :) too loud laugh, but it didn’t matter, because the entire stadium was laughing with him. His body shook with laughter in the stranger’s laugh, who was openly grinning too.
He looked up, grinning at the person sitting above Matt, their hand holding an upside-down, emptied Slurpee cup. That person was Stiles’ hero. His worries and anxiety all disappeared in that moment, and he felt truly joyous.
. . .
The cameras left the scene, shortly followed by Matt, who dragged Stiles with him to the bathroom. Stiles would’ve preferred to stay and watch the rest of the game next to mystery guy with the stubble, but he did feel sort of guilty about Matt. After all he’d been humiliated too.
Matt was furiously wiping down his face with paper towels, wetting some to help with the stickiness. He scrubbed at his arms under the faucet. "There's a glee joke in here somewhere," Stiles broke the silence.
“I can’t believe you right now,” Matt hissed.
Stiles’ smile fell, “What?”
His boyfriend seethed, “Are you ignoring the fact that I’m drenched in a smoothie right now?”
“It’s actually a Slurpee.”
“God damn it Stiles! Can’t you take anything seriously?!” he threw the wet paper towel that landed with a splat.
“Matt, why are you getting upset? It was all in good fun. Let’s hop in a crock pot and simmer down,” Stiles said, his eyebrows furrowed. Matt was a little uptight, yeah, but that’s what kept Stiles grounded. Matt wasn’t really a bad boyfriend. He laughed with Stiles sometimes.
“Stiles are you kidding me?” Matt snarled.
“Look, Matt, I get that you probably don’t want to be drenched in Cherry Slurpee right now, but – “
“No, you don’t get it, because you were too busy whoring yourself out to the first person willing!”
Stiles straightened, leaning his face away, “Excuse me? I tried to get your attention but you didn’t care that we were accomplishing one of my lifelong dreams,” Stiles raised an eyebrow, despite his slightly joking tone, “You were being a douche. At least he was willing to give me thirty seconds of his time,” Stiles said, not heated like Matt was yet.
He blinked, then suddenly his cheek stung and a loud pop rang in the air. It took a few seconds for him to connect the dots, but his hand flew up to his cheek.
“You… You hit me,” Stiles said, wide eyed. “You hit me.”
Something flashed in Matt’s eyes – Stiles hoped it was regret or remorse, but instead of apologizing, he opened his mouth again to say: “You deserved it for cheating on me.”
“Cheating on you?” Stiles repeated, his voice raising. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you being such a –“
“You know what you did wrong! Admit that-“
“You’re over-reacting! Why can’t you just laugh it –“
“I’m not being ridiculous! I’m over here covered in red –“
“Well it’s your own fault for caring more about your phone than me-“
“God damn it, Stiles, when will you –“ Matt had raised his fist, in an aggressive motion towards Stiles, who flinched backwards, but another hand caught it.
It was mystery man with a leather jacket and stubble.
“They’ll never find your body if you lay another hand on him,” Mystery man said calmly, but the venom behind his words made Stiles believe him. “I think you need to go.”
Matt snarled at Derek with a “you” in realization. Unfortunately for Matt, Mystery Guy was very, very muscular and easily triumphed Matt’s strength and forced him towards the door with a lot of struggling on his boyfriend’s – or soon to be ex-boyfriend’s- part.
He bashfully looked towards the door where a tall man stood, arms crossed over his chest and an unhappy expression on his face.
“Boyd, will you please… Escort this man?” Mystery man with the eyebrows said, shoving Matt towards Boyd.
Stiles also noticed a beautiful blonde standing in the doorway, a smirk on her face. The woman who poured the Slurpee. Incredible.
She stepped forwards, strutting into the men’s bathroom without hesitation and stopping in front of him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Stiles smiled, “And you are my hero,” he couldn’t contain the awe in his voice, as he wrapped his arms around her tightly. Right now, he needed a good hug. The female packed a strong embrace, comforting and nice. He squeezed his eyes closed willing those stupid tears away because it was ridiculous, and he was a full grown person, he was not going to cry over something this stupid.
“I’m Erica,” she said gently, soothingly. Stiles would’ve expected a sharper voice, but she picked up on his emotions, most likely. He cringed mentally, before clearing his throat and releasing.
“Stiles. Thanks, Erica.” Stiles’ hand was shaky, so he shoved it into his jacket pocket instead of shaking her hand, because they were not fifty years old. Well, if she was, she looked damn good for a middle aged person. Dermatologist must hate her.
Erica gave him a brief smile, before turning around, a hand still on Stiles. “And, uh, your knight in shining armor is Derek… He uh, he doesn’t usually look this murderous. Okay, that’s only half a lie. Derek, smile for you damsel in distress.”
He offered a bashful smile to Derek, who nodded once in his direction, before stepping closer to Stiles and assessing his face.
“Kind of formal for a guy I’ve already been to first base with,” Stiles chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. It only half worked.
“Are you… You should, um… About… Your boyfriend?” Derek winced a little, look uncomfortable. He missed the smug look on Erica’s face.
Stiles nervously laughed, “Yeah… I think it’s safe to say Matt is not compatible until he gets a few anger management lessons.” Or ever, Stiles wanted to add. He still cared about Matt, a little, but he knew when to get out of a relationship. That would be now.
“Does he do this a lot?” Derek looked concerned and angry both at once.
Stiles blushed, “Uh, no, this was… The first time. He was just mad,” he lamely excused.
Derek frowned harder, “It’s not okay. He shouldn’t hit you like that. You don’t deserve to be hit, Stiles.”
Stiles looked at Derek a little before rolling his eyes, “Aw that was so sweet. I bet you write a lot of poems.”
Erica snorted.
Stiles smiled halfheartedly, “And thank you, too. At least now I only have one thing to be embarrassed about, and that’s only in front of you guys. The rest of America and the stadium probably think Matt’s the humiliated one.”
Erica frowned at this. “Don’t be embarrassed, Stiles. What do you have to be embarrassed about?”
Stiles blushed again, “Because I couldn’t protect myself from my newly abusive boyfriend and had to have someone come save me like a princess or something.”
Stiles didn’t notice how Derek’s fists clenched and his nails dug into his skin, or how Erica bit her lip for a moment, analyzing her alpha and sensing his distress – and then trying to fix it.
“Ex!” she blurts out, “You mean ex-boyfriend, right? God, I hope you aren’t planning on staying with him. Because that would make you stupid, Stiles. You understand that you really, really should not stay with that doucheweed, right?”
Stiles sighed, “Yeah. Ex.”
He didn’t notice how Derek relaxed a little, either, his fingers uncurling, or how Erica breathed out in relief when she didn’t spy claws on Derek’s fingers.
“Let me buy you a pretzel,” Derek said quickly. Stiles’ eyes shot back up in surprise at Derek, before he nodded happily.
“Yeah –that – okay.”
. . .
Stiles forgot about Matt shortly later, because Erica and Derek were a riot.
His dad called a little later to say someone at the station told them about the kiss cam and he fidgeted at little in the stall of the bathroom – Erica and Derek waiting outside for him. He was glad he excused himself to talk to his father, because he could say:
“Yeah, things got pretty nasty with Matt, and we broke it off, try not to be too excited about it, Dad.”
“I knew he was no good.”
Stiles rolled his eyes, “Yeah… I think we need to press charges.”
“What? Why?” his dad responded quickly. “What happened? Stiles?”
“He got a little physical. Don’t worry though! I’m okay, I swear. Minimal pain and injuries. I just think he should have it on his record, poor soul that dates him next should know.”
He heard heavy breathing through the receiver, “Yeah, we can uh, we can do that. Do you have any other witnesses?”
“Yeah, I think I have a couple who’ll be willing to testify to that.”
“I’m surprised you’re letting Matt go so quickly, son. You seemed pretty taken with him before.”
“Before he fucking hit me,” Stiles sighed, “And the Kiss Cam thing. But it doesn’t matter, I’ve… I’ve found someone a lot better, and I think it just might work out.”
”That was quick,” he hears his father’s reluctant voice tell him, and he can almost picture his face right now.
“Yeah, and a couple friends.” Stiles says dreamily like a twelve year old in love. “He’s amazing. I think he might look a little familiar. Got to go, they’re waiting for me!” he grins deviously, before ending the call with a ‘bye, love you!’ and his dad barely has a chance to say ‘we’re so not done talking about this’.
He stuffs the phone in his pocket and exits the bathroom with a smile on his face, joining Erica and Derek who look equally content.