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Stiles bent over the text in front of him, eyes trying to make sense of the jumble of letters dancing beneath his vision. Leaning back, he rubbed at his eyes, hoping to erase the exhaustion taking over. He’d thought that signing up for the Great Discoveries in Archaeology would fill a history credit and be like watching an Indiana Jones film twice a week for two hours at a time. He hadn’t realized it would be hours spent in the library pouring over old books and reading up on a million different religious artifacts.
It reminded him of high school and hours spent researching the latest monster of the week. He would spend hours with Derek in the loft, reading from the books from the Hale vault. This would be less torturous if Derek were there.
Groaning, he turned his attention back to the book, trying to focus on choosing a topic for his end-of-term paper, but every word ran together until he knew it was time to quit for the night. Gathering his things together, he adjusted his earbud and dialed his phone, hoping that Scott would still be awake with the time difference.
“Bro!” Scott answered after four rings sounding a bit winded.
“What did I interrupt?” Stiles asked, pushing his way out the doors of the library. It had gotten dark while he’d been there, and he was glad that his dorm wasn’t that long of a walk.
“Nothing!” Scott shouted a bit too loudly.
“Really?” Raising his voice, he called into the phone, “Hello, Kira!”
After a moment of silence, an amused voice called back, “Hi, Stiles.” After a shuffling sound, she spoke again, her voice much closer. “How’s college?”
Stiles hesitated. He was ready to lie, but he and Kira had become close before he’d left for New York, and as much as he hated talking about his feelings with Scott, he’d become quite comfortable doing it with Kira. “A bit lonely,” he finally admitted.
“Well, Scott’s coming to visit in a couple of weeks,” she said, laughing when Scott made a noise of protest. “Oh, well, I guess that was supposed to be a surprise. Oops.”
“That’ll be great,” Stiles said, and it would be, but he knew the visit would end before he was ready to be alone again.
“You don’t sound like it’s great,” Kira said, her voice soft and kind. Tears sprang to Stiles’ eyes.
“I’ve gotta go,” he said. “I’m meeting some friends for drinks.” Although that statement contradicted his earlier one, he hoped it would be enough to get Kira off the phone before he started blubbering.
“Oh! That’s great! Have fun!” Kira said, and Stiles heard Scott calling out his goodbyes in the background.
He disconnected the call and shoved his phone in his pocket. Hunching his shoulders, he tried not to think about the lie he’d told. There were no drinks with friends. He had no friends.
Sighing, he stopped walking and dropped down onto a bench that ran along the path. Pulling his phone out again, he debated calling Derek. They’d talked a couple of times since he’d left, mostly Derek checking in like a good Alpha, and Stiles had kept up the “Everything is hunky dory here in River City” act with him. He was just thankful Derek’s werewolf hearing didn’t work over the phone.
Stiles decided that calling Derek while he felt like he was would be too much of a stretch for his limited acting abilities. It rang as he stood and moved to shove it back into his pocket. Howl by Florence + the Machine echoed off the building behind him.
He hesitated only a moment before answering. Pasting on a smile on his face to try and sell his voice, he said, “Heeeey, Derek. What’s the haps?”
“Kira said you’re sad,” Derek said, his voice growly. “Why did you lie to me?”
“Lie? Me? Never,” Stiles said. “Well, except you know when I was hiding your fu-”
“Stiles,” Derek interrupted. “Kira said you’re lonely.”
“Is nothing sacred?” Stiles said, pouting as he debated hanging up, but he was just so happy to talk to Derek that he knew he wouldn’t do that.
Derek let out a loud sigh as the silence dragged on. “Talk to me.”
Even though Stiles wasn’t a wolf and Derek’s Alpha power didn’t work on him like the others, it was still enough to make Stiles start talking. “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m not exactly everyone’s cup of tea.” Derek snorted, and Stiles felt the corners of his lips twitch and the pressure on his chest loosening. “My roommate’s alright, but he’s hardly ever home. I think he’s actually merged with his girlfriend.”
“Scott and Allison 2.0?” Derek asked, and it was Stiles’ turn to snort.
“Something like that,” he said. “Except hopefully without the tragic ending.”
Derek sighed. “She didn’t die; she moved to France with her dad and Isaac,” Derek reminded him. “Not exactly the tragic tale of the ages. Besides, Scott is happily ensconced with Kira now.” Stiles conceded the point. “What about your classes? Isn’t there anyone you can ask to hang out with?”
Stiles shrugged before remembering that Derek couldn’t see him. “You know how much I hate my archaeology class, right?”
“You may have mentioned it a couple of thousand times,” Derek said, and Stiles heard a dinging sound in the background that sounded like the Camaro when the door was opened.
“Well, you might not be the only one I’ve mentioned it to,” Stiles told him, spotting his dorm ahead and slowing his pace. It was a lovely night, and he didn’t want to risk losing Derek in the stairwell or elevator. “It doesn’t make me very popular with those majoring in the subject.”
“Stiles, there has to be someone you have something in common with on that campus. It’s huge,” Derek said, and Stiles blinked back tears at the disappointment he could hear in his voice.
“If there is, I haven’t found them yet. I’m starting to think friends are a rare find for me, kind of like the artifacts. At least, they’re just as sacred.”
Stiles wiped his eyes again, wondering if he could convince his dad to let him come home after this semester. He’d take the next one off and start at a school closer to home and Pack next year. He looked up to the sky and noticed the light in his room go on. His roommate must have come back. Stiles just hoped it wasn’t because he and his girlfriend had broken up again; that had happened once the first week, and it was the worst three hours of Stiles’ life. Considering an evil fox demon had possessed him, that was saying something.
“Look, I gotta go. I’m about to head inside the dorm,” Stiles said. Since his roommate was home, he might as well try to be friends with him. He said as much to Derek, who made a strange sound but hung up.
He ducked in through the back door of the building when someone exited. He was more than happy to avoid the front desk if that weird kid from the third floor was working. He took way too much interest in everyone’s comings and goings. As he made his way up the stairwell, he passed his RA, a senior who spent most of her time closed in her room, a skunky smell emanating from beneath the door. Maybe Stiles should start hanging out with her. She stopped when she saw him.
“I let your friend into your room,” she said to him. “Don’t forget, if he spends the night, you must let security know.”
Stiles nodded and took two more steps before freezing in his tracks. “My friend?” he asked, and she stopped and looked up at him. “I don’t have any friends.”
His phone buzzed, and he glanced down to see a text from Derek, but he was too concerned about his RA letting a stranger into his room to read it. “What would make you let someone into my space? That’s my space.”
She tilted her head. “He knew your name. Like, your real one that no one can pronounce,” she said with growing apprehension. “And he was cute.”
Stiles let out a sigh. “Look, maybe we should call campus security or something.” His phone buzzed again; Derek was calling. “Dude, now isn’t-”
“Come to your room,” he said before hanging up.
Stiles looked at his RA, who chewed into her lower lip, her phone in her hand. “The guy you let in? Tall? Dark? Kind of broody?” She nodded. “Yeah, he’s my….” He hesitated, and his phone buzzed again. “Friend. He’s my friend from home. He must have wanted to surprise me.”
“Sorry that I ruined it,” she said, and Stiles waved her off, thinking of Kira and wondering again if he should try being friendly with his RA. “Don’t forget-”
“I’ll let security know,” Stiles told her, having absolutely no intention of doing that. “Um, have a good night. Maybe we can…talk sometime.”
She grinned at him. “You, too. My doors always open, even when it’s closed. Just knock.”
Stiles felt better as he made his way up the stairs. His feet carried him more quickly as he thought about Derek being in his room. He should be mad at the invasion of privacy, but he couldn’t find anger in himself.
Hurrying down the hall, he dug out his key card, but before he could slide it in, the door opened, and he found Derek looking down at him, unamused. “What do you mean you don’t have friends? Kira said you were meeting friends for drinks.”
“I lied.”
“You seem to be doing that a lot,” Derek said, pulling Stiles into the room and closing the door.
“Maybe being away from the Pack isn’t a good idea for me,” Stiles muttered, dropping his bag on the floor and throwing himself into the overstuffed bean bag he kept under his lofted bed.
“Well, it’s not ideal,” Derek said, moving to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of Stiles, “but it’s what you wanted.”
“I can fail studies of sacred objects anywhere,” Stiles told him, pulling himself to sit up. “USC Berkley has a great computer science program, and their English and Literature don’t suck.”
“It hasn’t even been a full semester. Give it a chance,” Derek said. “And if you get sick of those artifacts from your class, maybe you’ll like this one.” He held out an intricately carved rectangular wooden box.
Stiles needed two hands to take the box from Derek. He traced his fingers over the carvings. A triskelion was set in the upper left and lower right corners, while the BHHS Cyclones logo sat in the others. The middle held a carving of the wholly rebuilt Hale house that Stiles had only seen once at his going away party Derek had thrown. He remembered finding Derek curled up in the corner of the living room, sleeping because he’d been up for nearly three days to be sure the house was ready before Stiles left.
“This is beautiful,” Stiles said.
“Thank you. Now open it,” Derek said, his voice rough. He looked up and saw Derek staring at the box, the tips of his ears burning pink.
“Did you make this?” Derek gave a jerky nod. “It’s amazing. You could sell this.”
“No,” Derek said. “That’s for you, but I have considered making other boxes to sell.”
“That’s awesome, dude,” Stiles said. He pulled his phone out and snapped a photo of the box to send to his dad later; he knew the man would appreciate the artwork and talent.
“Open the box,” Derek said.
Stiles felt the edges and lifted the top to reveal a photo frame cushioned by glittery tissue paper. The frame was white and appeared empty. Stiles looked at Derek. “Thank you?”
“For someone so smart, you’re an idiot,” Derek said, reaching to pull the frame out and setting it on the edge of Stiles’ desk chair.
He pressed a couple of buttons on the back, and the frame lit up with an image of Scott and Stiles as kids. As he watched, the image morphed into one of Stiles and Lydia when they’d gone to that one dance in high school together. Stiles laughed at the bored expression on his face. The photos continued to change; every single one included Stiles and somebody important in his life. A picture of him and his parents came on the screen, and he had to blink back tears; it was the one his dad kept framed on his nightstand.
He wiped at his eyes and hid his face from Derek. “This is amazing.”
“Everyone you hold sacred,” Derek responded, his voice oddly flat, but Stiles was too busy watching the slide show start over again. Stiles sat and watched through the images twice before realizing something. “Derek, there are no photos of you.”
Derek shrugged. “Your family and friends donated photos.”
“You told the RA that you’re my friend,” Stiles pointed out.
“You told her you don’t have any friends,” Derek argued and pointed to the frame. “You have plenty of friends.”
“They’re not all in here, though,” Stiles said. “Why aren’t there any photos of you?”
Derek stood up. “Stiles, there are no photos of us in there because there are no photos of us,” he said.
“Of course, there are,” Stiles argued, but as he thought about it, even with all the hours he and Derek spent together, he didn’t remember ever taking photos. “Or maybe not.”
“It’s fine-”
“No. It’s not.” Stiles scrambled out of the bean bag, nearly dropping the box and eternally grateful that Derek steadied it in his hands. “We need to take photos right now.” He dug his phone out of his pocket and froze when he saw Derek's texts.
I’m telling Scott. He’d gotten the first one after saying he didn’t have any friends. Ouch. That was when he struggled to call Derek his friend.
“Dude-”
“Don’t,” Derek said, grabbing his jacket off the hook on the back of Stiles’ door and picking up a duffle bag Stiles hadn’t noticed. “I’ve got to get back.”
“When’s your flight?” Stiles asked, surprised that Derek’s visit was so short. Derek pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. “You drove here? From California?”
Derek nodded. “And I should hit the road.”
Stiles stood frozen while Derek nodded and opened the door, slipping into the hallway. As the door closed behind him, Stiles’ mind started going over everything that had happened that night. He’d spoken to Kira, and less than an hour later, Derek was in his dorm room with a fantastic gift for him. The only way that could have happened is if Derek had left long before the conversation with Kira happened, back when Stiles was still pretending that college was the best thing ever.
Derek had driven across the country to give Stiles a gift for no reason other than just to do it. Or, this was the part Stiles struggled to understand; Derek knew how Stiles felt about college and pretended to believe him while working on this fantastic gift. “Fuck,” he muttered. “I’m an idiot.”
Stiles yanked open the door and found Derek standing there with a soft smile. “Yeah, you are,” he said.
“Get your ass in here,” Stiles demanded, throwing his arms around Derek, not caring if he hugged him back or not.
To his surprise, Derek wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him, pressing his face into the side of Stiles’ neck. “Does this mean I can stay?”
“On one condition,” Stiles said, a grin sliding over his face as he pulled back. Derek quirked an eyebrow, looking very nervous. “We start taking pictures together.”
Derek huffed out a laugh and nodded, allowing Stiles to pull him in and squash their faces together as he held his phone out in front of him. “Say ‘cheese!’”
Derek rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot,” he said instead as Stiles took the photo.