Work Text:
Inspired by Taylor Swift's Midnights album
I find it dizzying
They're bringing up my history
But you weren't even listening
Stiles tapped his fingers absentmindedly on the edge of the desk as he proofread his english essay. If he was going to be stuck in detention, he might as well be productive. Maybe having all his homework done ahead of time would soften the blow when he told his dad why he got detention. 'Fat chance,' he thought with a snort, 'maybe he'll work the overnight shift.' Glancing at the clock, Stiles hastily scrawled a conclusion onto the page, making a mental note to double check it later. "I'll see you later, Mr. Yukimura," Stiles called as he shoved his papers into his backpack and headed toward the door.
"Hopefully only in history class and not in detention again," Mr. Yukimura replied seriously.
"I'll try my best, but I can't make any promises," he answered cheekily as he walked out.
"What promises can't you make?" Derek asked from his seat against the lockers, a textbook open across his legs.
"Derek," Stiles exclaimed in surprise. "What are you still doing here? Mathletes practice ended like thirty minutes ago."
"Was waiting for you," he explained, closing his textbook as he stood. "It's my fault that you got detention so the least I could do is wait for you. I told Laura I'd catch a ride home."
"Did you tell her I'd give you a ride? 'Cause she'll kick my ass for being near you," he joked.
Derek bumped his shoulder lightly against Stiles's as they walked toward the exit. "Shut up, Laura likes you."
Stiles hummed noncommittally, thinking back to when Laura cornered him months ago and threatened to disembowel him if he hurt Derek. Though she didn't say he couldn't see Derek at all, so he guessed it wasn't all bad. He couldn't blame his reputation on anyone but himself, but man, did he wish he avoided some of his stupider incidents now.
"Are you in a rush to get home?" Derek asked, drawing him from his thoughts. "Did your dad ground you?"
He shook his head, "He doesn't know yet, but he'll find out tonight. That's gonna be a shitshow."
"I'm sorry you got detention because of me," Derek apologized, a frown on his lips.
"I didn't get detention because of you. Jackson is a bullying asshole who needed to be put in his place," he answered easily. "No regrets."
Derek shook his head fondly, "Well since this might be your last day of freedom you have in a while, do you wanna go get some food at the diner? I know you love their curly fries."
"Curly fries are the way to my heart," Stiles agreed as he started the jeep. "It'll be my last meal before my execution tonight."
"You're so dramatic; you'll be fine," he laughed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"Says you," he retorted lightly. "Dad might just throw me into a holding cell."
'Well that's awkward,' Stiles thought self-consciously as the bell above the door chimed, drawing several curious looks from the patrons. The diner was a popular meeting point for high schoolers; it was the place to be when you goofed off after school, finished a lacrosse game, or had a first date. Stiles knew there was a good chance they'd run into their classmates. But he wasn't expecting to see the rumor mills get cranked up, judging by the shocked faces and frantic whispers around them. Troublemaker Stiles Stilinski at the diner with adorably nerdy, absolutely brilliant Derek Hale on what could possibly be a date? That was shocking. Just the thought of being on a date made Stiles's palms sweat.
"Come on, there's an empty booth in the back," Derek commented, grabbing Stiles's hand as he led the way through the crowded restaurant.
Stiles felt his heart race as Derek's hand enveloped his, praying that his face wasn't as red as he thought it might be. But judging by Derek's pink ears, he might not be the only one that was flushed. He and Derek had been dancing around something since they were sophomores and two years later, it finally felt like they were in a good place to move forward with something. He slid into the booth as Derek let go of his hand, already missing the warmth of it. "Are we being stared at? Because it feels like we're being stared at," Stiles commented after a moment.
Derek looked up from his menu, glancing around the diner. "Yeah we're definitely being stared at," he answered in confusion. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, glaring until the people closest to them looked away. "I don't have a stain on my jeans or something, do I?"
Stiles snorted loudly, shaking his head. "No, you're good; I have a feeling that's not why they're staring at us."
"Then I don't get it. Why are they staring at us?" he asked. "It's not like they don't know us or haven't seen us together."
"They probably think I threatened you into coming on a date with me or something," Stiles mumbled, his shoulders hunching. "I'm sure you've heard them talking about me at school before. God, I'm sure people have gone to you to tell you specifically about me. It's not like they made most of those things up."
"I've heard the gossip and the stories," Derek confirmed before shrugging. "But that doesn't really matter to me. I know who you are. I know why you get into fights sometimes but that doesn't make you a bad person for getting into fights with bullies. I mean I'd like you to stop that but I don't think you're a bad person." He reached his hand across the table top, his cheeks tinged red. "But maybe we can prove the rumors right about us being here on a date?"
Stiles gaped at Derek for a moment before flailing to take his hand. "Yeah," he answered, his voice cracking as he laced their fingers together. "Let's give them something else to talk about."