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He had been hopeful, but Stiles never expected it to actually work. He had been messing around with the incantation for about a month to no fruition and figured it was just one of those spells that wasn’t gonna work - like half the ones that Deaton shows him. Deaton's excuse was that they obviously weren't compatible with Stiles' magic type, which whatever, Stiles doesn't need to control plants, but it would have been cool, alright?
He hadn't expected it to work, so when he woke up on the first day of spring break he was a little surprised to be hear his dad talking over breakfast about the shopping list and sneaking in some cheesy fries from the diner across from the station on his lunch break. Why would he admit to something Stiles is going to do his best to stop?
"Hey, dad, I can hear you, and I will tell Mrs. Scofield not to serve you!" His dad stopped moving, his cup poised halfway to his mouth.
"Hear what, son? And what’s this about Mrs. Scofield?" That damn, kid, how could he tell?
"It can't be, can it?" Stiles said, mostly to himself. He fixed his dad with a look of slight confusion and a lot of wonder, "Dearest father, I request from you a tiny little favour: think something. Anything, just don't say it out loud."
"My kid is nuts, completely nuts. Bonkers. Off the deep end. Loony. Loopy. La-la. I can't believe he's actually lost it."
Stiles broke into a grin and rushed over to his dad, "I'm not bonkers, dad, the spell worked! It finally, actually worked." He kissed his father's head, "I love you, do not get fries from the diner, do have a good day though" and then rushed out the door, the sheriff presumed he was going to Scott's, but who knows.
Stiles drives straight to the animal clinic, it’s early so it’s quiet inside which allows Stiles to tell Deaton immediately, “Doc, you’re worried about telling the owners of the cat in cage four that he has cancer, and you think I’m a little crazy and want a chicken salad for lunch.”
The vet looks at him, he slowly raises an eyebrow and thinks, I assume you mastered the spell for hearing thoughts. Congrats. Stiles grins, “Hells yeah I did, and you didn’t think I would, did you?”
“No, to be honest it’s a specific spell that works for very few of us. I’m pleased though, it’s amazing progress.” One of the changes Stiles made to the spell was to feel emotions in the thoughts too, and he could feel the smugness radiating from Deaton’s mind. He was looking forward to telling his sister about his apprentice.
Stiles couldn’t help himself, “You’re welcome.” He waits a beat, feeling the confusion and hearing the question Deaton didn’t say, “For convincing you to take me on as the best apprentice ever.” With that he flounced out of the room, smiling and excited.
The plans within the group were to meet at Derek’s around five for movies and food, so he had about five hours to kill and headed to the library, wanting to check out more spells from the book he’d found this one in, maybe find some tips to control it. It would be handy in a fight, but he doesn’t want to know what everyone is thinking all the time, it could get exhausting. He holed up in the back corner even though it was practically empty, what with it being vacation and everything. Mostly this was to help fight the urge to listen in to the librarians having a fight by the desk, as he walked past he heard the lewd comments they made in their heads, the sexual tension was palpable and he had to try really hard to not stop and tell them that making out would be less distracting for everyone.
He decided the best way to block out the noise of the librarians and their UST and the rather rowdy, group of kids that just came in would be to plug himself in, he pulled up his playlist and slotted in his headphones, settling in with the heavy volumes he’d crowded around his small desk. Chewing on the end of his pen between jotting down notes regarding the possibility of creating some kind of amulet to harness the power, he managed to come up with a plan that he would need to run past Deaton first, but he was pretty confident in it - it would allow him to share the power. Letting anyone with the amulet (or a similar one) to actually communicate with people, projecting their thoughts to anyone they had a strong enough connection too. Within the pack this would be wildly helpful, mostly the werewolves were fine with the hearing mojo they had, but for Lydia, Allison and himself it would come in handy.
On his way home he pops into the store to pick up some snacks to take to Derek’s - his mom had taught him not to show up empty handed - where he runs into the werewolf himself, literally. It turns out even hearing people’s thoughts doesn’t stop Stiles making an ass of himself.
He’s turning into the aisle with the chips when he smacks into a muscled arm, he pulls back, apologising profusely, “I’m so sorry, I was on another pla-” he looks up, “Derek! Shouldn’t you be home already, awaiting the pack on bated breath?”
“I’m on my way, I just needed to pick up some chips because you know how Isaac gets.” And you’d want pie, the pack needs pie. He tilts his head, “You got enough junk there, Stiles?” he gestures to the basket Stiles is holding, filled with two bottles of pop, a bag of peanut M&M’s, a box of Reece’s Pieces and some microwave popcorn. Stiles might be wrong, but he thinks Derek feels proud.
“I thought I’d cover our bases, y’know what the guys are like, they don’t care where the food comes from, as long as it’s there.” He shrugs, a little flustered by the swelling of admiration he feels, “It’s not fair to leave it all to you, feeding Scott alone takes an overwhelming amount of food.”
Derek lets out a small huff of breath, this kid, I swear. Stiles coughs and gestures to the till point, “I should probably get going, still gotta shower and grab some research for Lydia.”
“Yeah, of course, I’ll, uh, see you later.” There’s a twinge of not quite sadness, but a reluctance to let this end that Stiles feels around the affection that had been growing during the short interaction that Stiles most definitely doesn’t over-think on his way home.
By the time Stiles makes it to Derek’s it's closer to six, and he figures everyone would be settled into their corners for the film and there would be cold pizza on the side that they left for him and he isn’t surprised.
Derek doesn’t have a great deal of seating in his new place, though it looks lavishly decorated compared to the loft. There were two couches, and an arm-chair with a couple of cushions. The armchair was usually taken up by Boyd and Erica, who would squish onto it and look more adorable than they had any right to, Allison, Isaac and Lydia got a couch, though the three of them only really took up half of, Isaac and Lydia would sit on either side of Allison and it would be the picture of sophisticated snuggling, Derek always got a couch to himself because, in his words, ‘It’s my place I’ll sit where ever the hell I please’, though often Stiles would end up on the other end because the floor would be appropriated by Scott and Kira who would pull down the cushions to build a fort of comfort. Given the amorous feelings that it seemed like the whole group had for each other it wasn't really a surprise that Stiles almost always found himself lumped with Derek. They were the only two in the group that were unattached, so it made sense for them to pair up in activities or sit next to each other during films, or carpool for journeys, Stiles was mostly able to ignore the desire to climb Derek like a tree, made slightly easier by Derek always looking like he wants to maul Stiles.
When Stiles let's himself into Derek's place he's too starving to care about greeting everyone and heads straight to the kitchen, dumps the bags of snacks and pulls a glass and plate from the cupboard, grabs two slices of pizza and fills the glass with water before joining everyone in the living room.
He kicked the door open, "Hey guys, sorry I’m late, did you miss me?"
"I can't say we noticed you not being here," snarked Isaac, earning himself a pillow to the face from Scott and adding but it smelt better.
What? Smelt better? I don’t smell, I just showered! Stiles was outraged.
"Glad you’re here, bro, is your dad alright?" asked Scott, snuggling into Kira a little. I wish he could control himself, Damnit.
"Uhm, yeah, he’s fine. Glad to be here, buddy." All the wolves were thinking weird things, about smells and control and weird tastes, what was Stiles missing? "Move your feet, dude." He patted Derek's foot so he could sit down, earning himself a growl and a frown.
I need another couch. Stiles was glad Derek was even concise in his head.
Stiles almost chokes on his drink, how had he managed to offend Derek already? "The Avengers, good choice."
Scott turns to grin over his shoulder, "Nothing like some badass Marvel action to start the break." Hopefully, it'll distract him from you and save our noses. Arousal is infectious.
Scott turned around in time to miss Stiles' frown, though apparently Derek caught it, what's wrong with him? He's acting off. Have I done something? Shit is there a straw is his drink? Damnit. Just watch the movie, Hale.
Stiles felt his frown deepen. The fuck? He decided to ignore it, opting to fill his stomach with some hearty meat lovers pizza instead. He lifted the slice to his mouth only to have half the topping fall back onto his plate. He's watching Natasha Romanoff tell everyone to stand down as he drops bits of meatball into his mouth, leaning his head back and to the side to keep an eye on the tv when he hears Derek again.
Oh, God. first thing tomorrow I'm getting another fucking couch. Maybe I'll be able to deal with that neck if its on the other side of the room. The thought fizzled into half images of a tongue running a line down Stiles' neck, a stubbled jaw sucking deep red marks into the pale, mole-littered skin that Stiles thought resembled his neck. Stiles almost chokes his pizza when the pictures turn x-rated: images of what are certainly Stiles' hands on what could only be described as one of the most beautiful dicks in the world.
The images Stiles was getting were vivid and, he had to admit, thoroughly appealing, but what the hell is even going on right now, he doesn't - he cant. Stiles was stuck in a loop of disbelief that was cut by more images flooding into to his head from Derek: Stiles with hands running through his hair, Stiles on his back sprawled across a bed that looked surprisingly like Derek's, a stubbled, chiseled jaw kissing a lazy path down Stiles chest. The images were surprisingly accurate and vivid, given that these weren't scenarios that actually happened.
Stiles felt, for just a second that the world was playing a joke on him - the spell backfired and was taunting him and now he was gonna get a stiffy at a pack night? Not cool. He jumped up, knocking Derek's feet into Scott's shoulder and he raced to the bathroom, where he splashed himself with water and told himself to get a grip. He was thankful that there was a distance limit on the spell.
He was trying to control his breathing when there was a knock at the door. "What's up? The pizza go down wrong?" Stiles tried not to groan, it was Derek. The spell apparently worked through doors though, trust Stiles to freak out in the damn action scenes. I never get to see this all the way through. The things you do for love, Hale.
Wait, love? This time Stiles spluttered. "Stiles!" there was another knock, "Stiles, open the door." This guy, Hale? You sure know how to pick 'em.
Stiles reached for the door, opening it made the thoughts harsher, louder, he's a cute weirdo though, and smart, so maybe it's not all lost. Not that he'd want you.
It hurt Stiles to hear Derek talk like Stiles was better than him. He steeled himself to be thrown against a wall, and then thought, fuck it, before pulling Derek closer and pressing their lips together.
Derek's mind was quiet for a beat, and then flooded with questions, desires and an overwhelming sense of disbelief that Derek hid by kissing back.
"you're an idiot, Derek. Why didn't you say anything?" Stiles mumbled into the kiss that was all hot breath and wandering hands now.
"Why would I?" Derek pulls back, leaving his hands clutching and rubbing at Stiles' sides, "you never showed any interest, and I watched for it - you treat the whole pack the same." And I wouldn't be able to face being rejected and still being around you. Derek leaned forward to close the gap between their faces, resting his forehead against Stiles' with a sigh.
A hand came up to rest against Derek's cheek, "I don't let them crawl in through my bedroom window, I don't hold any of them up in a pool for two hours, I don't bring them coffee when we go on road trips, or offer to do the morning drive because they're grumpy as hell before ten am."
Derek softly pushed his face into Stiles' hand. Does this mean we're together? How do I know. I'm so off my game.
"I know what you're thinking, and yes" Stiles pressed his lips to Derek's, "but you have to at least buy me dinner before we blow each other."