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To say Stiles was annoyed with his friends would be an understatement.
They’d had plans . For weeks .
But now? Mere hours before they were supposed to go to the next town over to go clubbing? It was all, “Sorry, Stiles, we’re having a date night tonight,” and “Dude, Allison finally said yes, I swear we’ll reschedule.”
To be honest, Stiles wasn’t all that surprised that Scott was ditching him for a date with Allison. He’d been pining after the Beta ever since they’d met in their Secondary Gender Studies class senior year of college.
Stiles was surprised that Lydia had canceled, too - she usually loved dressing herself (and Stiles) up for a night on the town. At least, since he’d realized his crush on her was more of the gay-best-friend kind of crush as opposed to the I-want-your-babies kind of crush.
But Lydia was an Alpha, and she had her Omega to take care of. “Date night” his ass - Stiles knew she and Jackson were getting it on.
Stiles stared at his open closet, frustration leaking out of every pore. He’d been planning to go out for weeks, so by golly he was gonna do it!
He grabbed a shirt and pair of pants he guessed Lydia would have chosen for him (okay, maybe her sense of fashion was rubbing off on him, even if he didn’t use it daily) and pulled them on. The shirt was a short sleeved button up, and he left the top few buttons undone. Stiles didn’t think his pale, Omega skin was all that attractive, but according to Lydia his neck was enticing. The rolled up sleeves hit him right where he had barely-there biceps, which he totally didn’t flex as soon as the shirt was on, feeling the way it tightened across his skin.
One thing Stiles could definitely agree on, however, was that the dark jeans hugged his ass in all the right ways.
He finished his outfit with his converse and a bit of scent-dampening cologne, not wanting to sweat his Omega scent all over wherever he ended up tonight.
Giving himself one more glance in the mirror, Stiles headed out of his apartment. It was only eight o’clock, so while it was still early, Stiles wanted to just get out and go. He chose to take the stairs, rather than the rickety old elevator, and in no time he was on the streets of downtown.
Well, downtown as much as you could call downtown Beacon Hills downtown . Sure, it was a fairly large place, but compared to a big city their downtown was a little lame.
At least Stiles knew they had a handful of decent bars and clubs, and lucky for him his apartment wasn’t too far from them. He tucked his fingers in his front pockets casually and headed down the street, taking in the cool breeze of the evening around him.
The first bar he passed, Omegas Lite , was one that Stiles rarely went into. Sure, it might be the safest place for a single Omega to go out in town by themselves, but Stiles wasn’t really in the mood for the goody-goody crowd of Omegas Lite tonight. He wanted something more… interesting.
Next was a club, simply named Heat , and while Stiles liked to go there sometimes, the line to get in was already around the block. He saw a few familiar faces from high school, but nobody that he’d talked to since being back from college, so he kept walking. His favorite club was only another block down.
The Den was what some people would call shady, but Stiles liked to think of it as intimate. It wasn’t necessarily flashy, and Lydia didn’t always like going there, but Stiles appreciated the vibe of the place.
And lucky for him, the line was only about fifteen people out the door.
Stiles joined the line, eyes facing forward as the bouncer let people in a few at a time. When Stiles was a couple groups from the door, more people got in line behind him.
“ Stiles ?” he heard behind him, making him turn.
The voice belonged to one Erica Reyes, a drop-dead gorgeous girl that Stiles had been friendly with back in high school but never close. Stiles smiled at her, accepting her enthusiastic hug.
The smell of her scent-strengthening perfume nearly made him cough, but at least she was also an Omega. If she’d been an Alpha and wearing that stuff? Even Stiles, gay and proud, would have swooned a bit, with an Alpha scent combined with the bombshell she’d grown up to be.
“Hey Erica,” Stiles said once she’d released him from the hug. She didn’t let him go far, though, grabbing ahold of his arms to keep him close. “You look incredible .”
Erica’s smile turned slightly feral and she gave him a very slow once-over from head to toe.
“You grew up nice too, Stilinski,” she replied. Stiles couldn’t help but preen at the praise, glad that someone approved of his attire, even if it wasn’t Lydia. Erica’s sense of fashion seemed a little different than Lydia’s, based on her extremely low-cut top and excessive amounts of leather, but she still definitely knew how to dress herself better than Stiles did. “You here alone?” Erica looked over Stiles’s shoulder to see if any of the others in line were with him.
Stiles sighed, nodding. He tried to sound positive, though. “Yep, I’m solo tonight. All my friends decided date night was more important than clubbing.”
Erica groaned, empathizing. “How lame. But, good for us, though - you can join!” It was only then that Stiles looked past Erica to see who she was in line with. “You might remember my Alpha, Boyd, from school, and Isaac? He was in English with us junior year. And that’s Derek, he was a couple grades above us.”
Stiles’s eyes snapped to Derek Hale right as Erica mentioned his name, his face heating. Sure, he remembered Boyd and Isaac from school, but Derek Hale was Stiles’s gay awakening. Derek Hale was the subject of all of his fantasies for years (okay, and maybe even sometimes now). Derek Hale was who he thought about when he was going through his heats in high school and early college.
And damn, Derek Hale still looked as good now as he did back then, if not way better.
He was a few inches taller than Stiles, and while he’d been fit in high school it was obvious that he still regularly worked out, with the way Stiles could see muscles straining against the white tee-shirt underneath his leather jacket. His dark jeans were pulled tight across thick thighs that Stiles wanted to wrap his own legs around -
Isaac held out a fist for Stiles to bump, bringing him out of his momentary daydream. Stiles grinned, shaking his shock away and bumped Isaac’s fist, smiling as the Beta ducked his head in greeting. Boyd gave him a friendly head nod, while Derek…
Derek just stared at him.
“Oooh, we’re next!” Erica said, spinning Stiles back around to see that sure enough, they were the next ones who would be let into The Den .
Stiles barely had enough time to say anything before the bouncer was asking for their IDs and waving them inside, and then he was dragged across the room to the bar by Erica.
Erica ordered them all a round of shots, and then another, and before Stiles could even feel the tingle of alcohol, she was dragging him out to the dance floor. He glanced back to see Boyd watching them fondly, leaning up against the bar like he wouldn’t touch the dance floor with a ten foot pole. Stiles figured that Boyd was used to his Omega’s eagerness to dance, and probably very glad that she’d found a safe partner to drag along with her.
Derek was facing the other way, giving Stiles a fantastic view of his ass in those jeans, holy shit - until Erica spun him around and then they were dancing.
Erica was fun and feisty, fierce in a way that Omega women weren’t often. She had no qualms getting up in Stiles’s space to dance, but the second an Alpha encroached on their space she would snap or growl, startling them away.
Isaac floated between them on the dance floor and the bar, where Boyd apparently kept buying them drinks to send over. Isaac would hand a drink to Erica, who would chug half before handing it to Stiles to finish. One song would morph to another and Isaac would take the empty glass back to the bar.
Repeat, ad nauseum.
Soon enough, Stiles was floaty and wild, having the time of his life. He couldn’t remember having this much fun going out with his friends, but that was probably because Lydia’s Queen Alpha nature often created a five foot buffer around them when they danced that no one else dared to cross. Dancing with Erica meant there were bodies all around them but not aggressive - not to mention Erica grinding up against Stiles, and he let the music and Erica’s hands lead his body in its swaying, bumping, and grinding.
Eventually, Erica announced it was time for a break and she dragged him to a booth - oh, apparently the guys had found themselves a secluded booth at some point. That was a good thing, because Stiles’s feet were starting to hurt from the dancing and sitting down sounded wonderful .
There were four glasses of water sitting on the table. Erica grabbed one and chugged it, sliding into the booth next to Boyd.
Well, sliding in practically on top of Boyd.
With Isaac nowhere to be found, Stiles found himself sitting down next to Derek.
There were actually two of Derek, or maybe three, now that Stiles was sitting still. Stiles reached for one of the glasses of water, missing the first time but grabbing ahold of it on the second try. The water sloshed out onto the table as he tried to drink it, but then a strong hand was wrapped around his, guiding the glass to his mouth as another grabbed at the back of his neck to steady him.
Stiles chugged, not caring that some of the water dribbled down his chin, down his neck, and onto his sweaty shirt, dampening it further. The now empty glass was pulled away from his mouth and set on the table, and the hand on his neck tightened when Stiles swayed forward, following the glass.
He frowned, head turning to the side to see that it was Derek attached to the hand on his neck.
Derek Hale, subject of his high school fantasies, looking like a sex god, sitting next to Stiles and staring at him like he was the only one in the room.
Or at least, that’s what Stiles’s mind told him.
“You were always the one, Derek,” Stiles told him, only slurring some of his words. Derek frowned, but didn’t reply. “So hot, so nice, even with your grumpy eyebrows. It was always you, you know?” Stiles reached for the other glass of water, but his hand hit the table instead. He sighed sadly. “If only someone like you could love someone like me. I always dreamed that we could be together…”
Stiles knew, vaguely, that the comforting, strong hand on his neck disappeared at some point, that he and Erica danced some more, that he did shots off of Isaac’s (surprisingly chiseled) abs, and then that he was being buckled into a car.
He didn’t remember any other details, though, until his pounding head woke him up the next day.
The sun was too bright. Who even decided that mornings should happen, anyways? Stiles groaned, rolling over to press his face further into his pillows until -
Stiles hit the floor. Hard.
“ Fuck ,” he groaned, getting even more twisted up in blankets when he tried to get up.
Someone chuckled, and Stiles’s eyes flew open - screw the sunlight.
His head snapped up, seeing that he was not, in fact, in his room. Or even in his apartment. He was in a place he didn’t recognize, having fallen off of a couch that wasn’t his, and across from him, sitting at a kitchen table, was Boyd.
“What…” Stiles started, finally steadying himself onto all fours and sitting back on his feet. He groaned, realizing that he was shirtless, with his pants and shoes still on. Boyd just stared at him from where he sat, coffee in one hand and a book in the other. “Where am I?”
Boyd raised a judgemental eyebrow, took a drink of coffee, and closed his book. “You’re at our place. You were too drunk to even tell us your address last night, so we just brought you back here.”
Stiles groaned again, hand sliding down his face as he thought back to the night before. He remembered joining up with Erica and the guys in line. He remembered a few drinks, and dancing, and…
Not a lot more than that.
Stiles stood slowly - his pounding head wouldn’t allow him to move much faster - picking up the blanket with him and folding it before draping it onto the back of the couch. Looking at the other end, he saw his shirt laid carefully out on the arm of the couch.
He picked it up, recognizing that it was warm. Curious, Stiles brought it up to his face and smelled - not his laundry detergent.
“Erica did laundry when we got home last night,” Boyd commented from his seat. Stiles looked over, surprise evident on his face. Boyd shrugged. “She’s a domestic drunk.”
Stiles chuckled, pulling the shirt on. “I’m surprised she didn’t do my pants, too,” Stiles joked.
Boyd sighed, picking his coffee up again. “She couldn’t peel them off of you,” he said into his coffee. Stiles sputtered before doubling over in laughter, trying to imagine Erica attempting to strip him of his skin-tight jeans.
Laughing that hard was not a good thing, though, because his head pounded as soon as he bent over. His laugh turned into a groan and he pressed his palm onto his forehead as he stood back up straight.
To see Derek Hale now standing on the other side of the room, dressed in running shorts and a tank top, frowning at him.
Stiles looked between Derek and Boyd, who was back to his book, before realizing that “ our place ” that Boyd told him he had crashed at was not just Erica-and-Boyd’s place, but Derek’s, too.
And as Isaac walked in the room from a side hallway, Stiles realized that maybe he lived here, too.
Shit, was this a commune? How close were these people, anyways?
Stiles looked back to Derek, who was still frowning at him. He gave an awkward wave, before realizing that his shirt was still unbuttoned. Stiles sputtered, starting to button his shirt as Derek turned to disappear down the hallway Isaac had entered from.
Derek was stopped mid-stride as Erica walked out of a room down the hallway. “Morning, Alpha,” she greeted, before seeing Stiles over Derek’s shoulder. “Oh, Stiles! You’re awake! Good. You’re going to help me make breakfast.”
Stiles’s eyes were wide, but he nodded, continuing to button his shirt. Derek grumbled something that Stiles couldn’t hear but Erica obviously could, because she slapped his arm and scoffed, apparently offended.
“You’ll be back out here in ten minutes or so help me God I will come in there and drag your Alpha ass out here, Derek Hale,” Erica said. Stiles’s eyebrows raised at her tone - it wasn’t every day that an Omega bossed an Alpha around. Stiles looked to Boyd for his reaction, curious.
Based on the way that Boyd didn’t even glance over toward them, continuing to read his book as if nothing had happened, Stiles guessed that Erica’s bossiness was the norm and she was the one who ran this household. That was good, at least. Stiles knew Erica liked him, and frankly he liked her, too.
Erica walked over to grab Stiles’s arm, leading him to the kitchen. Well, the room was actually a big, open floor plan, so really she just pushed him a dozen feet away from the couch and to the right and they were in the kitchen.
“I’m so glad that you joined us last night, Stiles,” Erica said, much too cheery for how much they drank last night. Stiles pressed a hand against his forehead again as it throbbed. “Oh! You’re probably hungover!” Stiles grinned sheepishly, nodding a bit. Erica pointed to a cabinet. “Drugs, help yourself.”
Stiles opened the cabinet, found a couple of aspirin, and by the time he had them in his hand, Erica was offering him coffee. “Thanks, Erica,” Stiles said, swallowing the pills and downing the coffee. “And thanks for letting me crash here last night. I don’t even really remember… well, much.”
Erica laughed, opening the fridge and pulling out food. “No worries. I wouldn’t have let you go home by yourself, anyway. You’re stuck with us now, whether you like it or not.”
Stiles noticed Isaac slide onto a bar stool on the other side of the kitchen, smiling to himself as he watched Erica fondly. Stiles glanced over at Boyd, then down the hallway Derek had disappeared down.
Apparently Erica had adopted him into their little commune after just one night.
He didn’t feel so bad about being stuck with them, truthfully. While he felt slightly bullied into hanging out with them by Erica in line at the club last night, and was still somewhat being bullied into hanging out with them, he found himself enjoying it.
What did it say about Stiles that he enjoyed it when women bossed him around? He didn’t want to think too hard about that one, to be honest.
“Can you do the bacon? I’ll make pancakes,” Erica said, handing him two packages of bacon. Stiles raised his eyebrows at the amount of food, but nodded, finding his place at the griddle and turning it on. Stiles sipped more coffee as he got in the zone tending to the bacon, adding some cayenne, pepper, and brown sugar to give it a little spicy-candy kick.
Erica turned some old school boy band music on, but kept it quiet enough that it didn’t bother Stiles’s head. He found himself dancing with her each time she flipped a pancake, laughing as Isaac tried to sing along a few times.
Soon enough, breakfast was ready and Stiles was ushered to the table Boyd had been sitting at the entire morning. There was a mountain of bacon, pancakes, and fruit in the middle of the table - so much so that Stiles was convinced that they’d never eat it all.
“Derek!” Erica yelled as Stiles sat down. “Get your furry ass in here!”
Stiles had to avert his eyes as he wondered if Derek’s ass actually was furry, or if Erica was just being obnoxious. He didn’t notice Isaac and Boyd sharing a look over the table, too caught up in his own thoughts.
Stiles didn’t realize until Derek was already in the room that the only empty chair was the one directly across from him. Stiles gave him a weak smile, but Derek’s grumpy face was still on, frowning in Stiles’s direction the entire time Erica and Isaac dished out the food.
For the first time in a long time, Stiles found himself listening more than talking during a meal. Usually, he filled the silences when he was eating with Scott, Lydia, or his dad. In this case, though, Erica rambled on about a million things, including her job (apparently she was an EMT), Boyd’s grandma (who apparently loved Erica more than Boyd), and Isaac’s driving test (he hadn’t ever gotten his license, but Erica was teaching him to drive, but not in Derek’s car because Derek wouldn’t let anyone drive his car).
Every time Stiles looked up, Derek was glaring at him, which only made Stiles more and more uncomfortable as the meal went on. He found himself angling toward Erica, trying to avoid eye contact with Derek.
How could someone be so hot when they were glaring so hard?
“ Derek ,” Erica said, exasperatedly, after Stiles had met Derek’s glaring look yet again. Stiles and Derek both looked over at her, Stiles flustered and Derek just glaring harder. “What the fuck is your problem?”
Stiles felt his face heating up, realizing that this was the moment that Derek would reveal whatever it was that he hated about Stiles. He looked down at his plate, pushing around the last couple bites of pancake in between globs of syrup.
“Nothing,” Derek grumbled, stuffing an entire piece of bacon into his mouth. “What did you put on the bacon today?”
Erica grinned, looking at Stiles. “Oh, Stiles worked his magic. It’s delicious, right?”
Derek frowned at Stiles, chewing. For the first time, he spoke directly to Stiles. “It’s good.”
Stiles’s face was surely tomato red now. Not only was Derek looking at him, but his frown was somehow… friendlier? And he’d just complimented Stiles’s cooking.
“Ah, uh. Thanks,” Stiles stammered. “Can’t have boring bacon, right?”
Derek ate another piece instead of answering.
The rest of breakfast was uneventful and soon Stiles found himself putting dishes away in the dishwasher. Somehow, they’d eaten all of the food. It had to be hangover hunger or something, because the five of them had seriously put away a ton of food.
As the water ran in the sink, Stiles couldn’t help but overhear Erica at the table.
“What’s your deal?” she hissed at Derek. Stiles kept his back toward them, but tried his best to listen in. “You’re obviously making Stiles uncomfortable.”
“No deal,” Derek answered back, voice low. “It’s just… Stiles is still here.”
“Yeah, and if I have my way with it, he’ll be here a lot. I like him.” Erica paused, unknowingly giving Stiles a moment to relish in the moment of making a new friend. “Don’t you?”
Stiles snapped back into the moment, continuing to pretend to wash his hands to keep running the water.
“He… I…” Stiles heard Derek sigh. “You probably don’t remember what he said to me last night.” Stiles’s heartbeat picked up, realizing that he had apparently talked to Derek last night about… something. What had he said? “He talked about how I was the one. How he wished someone like me would love him.”
Shit .
Stiles turned the water off, realizing that he needed to get out of there. He grabbed a towel, preparing himself for a quick exit.
“How could he even say something like that?” Derek continued, obviously not noticing that Stiles was about to turn around. “He’s the one who’s… I’m just…” Derek sighed. “He deserves so much better. I don’t want him to, I don’t know. Pine over someone who’s not good enough for him.”
Stiles’s eyes widened and he turned, immediately meeting Isaac’s eyes, who was standing at the counter. The two of them shared a look that clearly said Did Derek really just say that? before looking over to where Erica and Derek were still at the table. Boyd was nowhere to be seen, but Derek was still sitting, head in his hands, with Erica standing over him.
Her eyes met Stiles’s.
“Derek,” Erica said slowly, not looking away from Stiles, “two things: first, we are going to have a serious conversation about your self-esteem later.”
Derek sighed, head still in his hands. “And second?”
Erica winked at Stiles, motioning to Isaac to head out of the room. He immediately disappeared down the hallway, Erica moving to follow. “Second, I think you and Stiles should have a conversation… one that both of you will remember.”
Derek’s shoulders stiffened, realizing only now that Stiles had heard at least the tail end of the conversation. Once Erica and Isaac were out of the room, neither of them moved for a heavy moment.
Stiles, realizing that he would have to start this conversation, took a deep breath.
“Sorry for making you uncomfortable,” he decided to start with, walking around the kitchen counter to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. Derek was still frozen, so Stiles scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and avoided looking his way. “I, uh, don’t really remember a lot from last night? But I know myself, and I know… well, I know the way I used to feel about you back when we were in school, and I know the thoughts that went through my mind when I saw you outside The Den last night. I didn’t mean to, well, get drunk and say a whole bunch of shit that obviously made you uncomfortable around me. Not to mention crashing on your couch and eating your food, and, well.”
Stiles shuffled his feet, waiting to see if Derek would respond.
After a solid minute of silence, Stiles nodded.
“I’ll just… let myself out.”
Stiles started for the door, but quicker than humanly possible Derek stood and blocked his path, one hand resting gently on Stiles’s shoulder.
Derek, shockingly , was still frowning, this time at his own hand on Stiles’s skin.
His nostrils flared, making Stiles a little self-conscious about his unwashed, hangover scent.
“I’m not good at…” Derek started, trailing off. Stiles couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. Big surprise: Derek’s frown deepened.
“It’s okay,” Stiles offered. He cleared his throat, reaching up to take Derek’s hand off of his shoulder and hold loosely in his own. “How about this: I’m going to go home, shower, make myself more human again. I’ll be at the coffee shop on Oak Street mid-afternoon, if you’d be interested in joining.”
Finally Derek’s face loosened, a bit of relief replacing his frown. Stiles squeezed his hand gently, nodding.
“I hope to see you around, Derek,” Stiles said, tilting his head slightly to the side in the tiniest movement of submission. Derek’s eyes widened as he breathed in Stiles’s scent, proving to Stiles that he was, in fact, interested.
On Stiles’s way out of the house, he had high hopes for his future with his new friends, as well as his future with the handsome Alpha.