Work Text:
Derek wakes up to the smell of bacon.
For several seconds, he thinks that somehow he’s transported back to his seventeen year old self when he still lived with his parents and his mom woke up early on Saturday mornings to make breakfast.
But then he actually woke up and remembered that his parents were still in Beacon Hills, and that he was twenty-six years old, and should probably be alarmed that someone was cooking bacon in his apartment.
And it was on the way to get up from his bed that he remembered what had happened last night and he slumped back on top of his pillows and tried to calm down.
Stiles was the one cooking breakfast. Stiles the kid, who looked to be all of sixteen years old, and who Derek had picked up at the bar last night.
To be fair, he did not look that young at the bar. It was only when they were under the lights in the elevator that Derek had actually noticed how young he looked. And it would’ve been rude of him just to send him back out. So he took him to his apartment, and served him a drink, and Stiles looked like he was contemplating whether or not to kiss Derek, and Derek was wondering if he would let him or not. And then Stiles looked around his apartment to ease the tension, and his eyes fell on the painting that Derek’s mom had bought him as a house warming present for his new apartment, by this painter that had died a couple of years ago, but was from one of Beacon Hills oldest families. It was a beautiful painting depicting a wolf howling at the moon, and it looked so realistic like a photograph rather than an oil painting. Derek was about to tell Stiles all of that when Stiles suddenly burst into tears.
He cried and cried and Derek could barely understand what he was saying, and he mentioned something about his mom and the words “passed away” and suddenly Derek felt more like a douche for wanting to tell Stiles to go home.
He bundled the kid up and tucked him into his bed, and Stiles grabbed his arm and wouldn’t let go, so Derek had slipped in next to him curling his body over the Stiles’ like Laura did to him on the anniversary of Peter’s death, and he fell asleep just like that.
He sighed looking at the ceiling before looking at his clock, and realizing with a jolt that he was late for work.
“Shit,” he muttered before running to take a quick shower. He was glad that most of his work clothes were pressed because he didn’t have the time to break out the ironing board. He was fiddling with his tie and trying to walk around his apartment looking for the folder where he had all of the information for the presentation that he had to give today, when suddenly there were hands slapping at his and tying his tie.
He looked up to see the kid, Stiles.
Who was smiling sort of worriedly at him, “Um I made breakfast, but you look like you’re in a rush. Do you want me to wrap it up for you?”
Derek looked at Stiles and remembered why even though he seemed so young Derek had taken him home last night. He had wide brown eyes that glinted gold in the sunlight, and his mouth was just begging to be kissed, and he looked fit in his tight white t-shirt and jeans. There was a green and red plaid shirt over one of the chairs along with a leather jacket that he remembered helping him out of last night before he lead him to the living room.
Derek wanted to take him back to his room and do all of the things he’d promise he’d do when he picked him up last night.
But there was no time.
“That would be great,” he said coughing and straightening his clothes. “Thank you.”
Stiles walked over to the kitchen and Derek muffled a groan before turning to look for the folder. He found it at the table. He grabbed it and stuffed it into his briefcase along with his laptop and then there was a paper bag in his other hand.
Stiles rocked back on his heels, “I should be thanking you, for letting me stay last night, even though I didn’t put out. You didn’t have to. You could’ve kicked me out and let me walk home. It’s not the first time I mess up a one night stand.” He blushes and scratches at his head, “So that was what breakfast was for as a thank you. And your kitchen is a mess and I was going to clean it, but I had no idea you were going to be in a rush.”
Derek licked his lips, “There is an extra key where the silverware is, it’s right under the tray.”
Stiles nodded his head.
“Thanks for this,” Derek says holding up the paper bag. “And don’t worry about last night. It happens to all of us.”
Stiles smiled sadly at him, and what Derek wouldn’t give to say fuck it to his job, and ask him why he was crying last night, but he couldn’t.
So he left, leaving Stiles alone in his apartment. A stranger that he’d picked up the night before, and hoped to God that his judgment wasn’t off and he wouldn’t come back home to find an empty apartment.
----
Work takes over, and he completely forgets about Stiles until he gets home and finds that there was a lasagna on top of the stove and a note stuck to his fridge.
Derek,
Thanks again for last night. I know you said not to worry, but I still do. I made you something to eat when you got home. Sorry if I’m taking liberties that aren’t meant to be mine, but I just couldn’t not do something. You were very kind, and I feel like I owe you an explanation.
The painting hanging on your living room wall was done by my mother, and yesterday was the anniversary of her death, and it just broke something in me that I had been trying to keep under wraps all day.
Thanks for being understanding, and here’s to hoping that you actually get lucky with the next guy that you pick up.
-Stiles
Derek didn’t know what to do. So he did the only thing he could think of and called Laura.
Apparently he sounded frantic and scared on the phone, because she had rushed over immediately.
“What’s wrong?” she yelled coming into the apartment like she owned it using her key. She looked at him where he was standing looking at the note and eating the amazing lasagna that Stiles had made.
Derek didn’t even know he had the ingredients to make lasagna in his fridge.
He just shoved the fork in Laura’s mouth when she got close enough and she made the most obscene noises making him wrinkle his nose at her.
“Holy God,” she moaned. “That is amazing. Tell me you’re marrying the person who made this because if you’re not I can convince Lydia to make our marriage into a three-way, especially if they cook like that.”
Derek just wrinkled his nose some more, “It’s not healthy that you can convince your wife to add someone else into your relationship. Are you not putting out enough?”
Laura pushes him over and heads over to the stove to serve herself, “I put out plenty, thank you very much. And I can convince Lydia pretty much about anything. With my tongue.”
She made an obscene gesture around her fork and Derek mimed gagging.
They ate in silence for a few minutes before Laura asked, “Why did you call me? I thought you were dying. It sounded like you were dying with the choking.”
Derek let his fork drop on the plate, “Have you ever picked up a guy at a bar only to have him cry all over you and then sleep in your bed and then make you breakfast the next morning as an apology for crying the night before?”
Laura looked like she was trying not to laugh, “Oh, honey. First of all, no, because I am a lesbian and I don’t pick up guys ever. Second of all, why did he start crying? Did he see the size of your dick and cry because it wasn’t big enough. Did it hurt your manly ego?”
Derek scowled, “We never even got naked. It was the painting.”
He pointed over at it before sliding the note over to her.
She picked it up reading it quickly and then her eyes went all soft, “Oh poor sweetheart, did you treat him right?”
Derek shrugged, “I was kind of in a rush this morning. He gave me my breakfast to take to work.”
Laura frowned at him, “And still he made you dinner. Wow, he is a keeper. Did you at least get his phone number?”
Derek frowned and shook his head, “It was supposed to be a one night stand. How was I supposed to know that he was going to get emotional over a painting his dead mother did and then make me breakfast and dinner the next day? It’s not like I can predict these things. They just happen!”
Laura tutted at him and patted his cheek, “And they would only happen to you. But lucky for you, you have me as your sister. And I am not going to live another day without having food like this every day. So I’ll use my investigative skills to find out who he is.”
Derek tried not to snort, because the last time that Laura had used her investigative skills she’d ended up accusing the wrong person of murder, and her private detective career just went downhill from there.
Laura hit him on the back of the head, “Stop back sassing me in your head. It’s rude!”
Derek just rolled his eyes and continued to eat his lasagna resigned to the fact that he might never see Stiles again.
----
It was Saturday, and it was about a week since the whole Stiles incident, and Derek couldn’t look at the painting on his wall without seeing Stiles crying his eyes out, and he couldn’t walk into his kitchen without seeing Stiles’ smiling face, and it was becoming a problem.
He was having a boy’s night in, which included Isaac, who still hadn’t graduated from high school but was Jackson’s boyfriend, even though they were both denying that there was a relationship. Derek thought that they thought that Derek would look down at them because of their age difference. Derek resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He had plenty of other reasons to look down at them, and none of them involved the five year difference between their ages. Jackson worked at the agency with him. Most would call him his partner in crime.
Derek’s actual partner in crime was Boyd, who was lounging on his couch with his girlfriend Erica, who was the only girl at boy’s night in, because she’d made comments about their masculinity and had actually alluded that all they did was drink beer and watch sports. Which was a lie, they also played video games.
Sometimes Derek hated the fact that his friends were all younger than him, because they made him act their age rather than his age, but then that left hanging out with Laura and Lydia who were both on the other side of thirty, not that they’d admit it, not that you could tell, but Derek preferred to stay home playing video games and eating pizza than drinking wine and talking about politics.
Or at least that’s what he imagines Laura and Lydia do.
He was getting more beer from the fridge when there was a knock on his door. He left the beer on the counter and made his way over to the door, thinking about who was missing. The only other person who crashed his boy’s night in was Laura and that was only when her Lydia fought, and from the way they had been giggling on the phone earlier he doubted that they had fought.
So he opened the door with precaution, and there was Stiles.
He smiled at Derek waving, “Hey.”
When Derek didn’t say anything but look at him stupidly, he shoved his hands in his pockets and he wasn’t wearing a belt, so his pants slipped and there was a slip of skin that included his hipbones and Derek suddenly wanted to nibble on them. Stiles thrusted something out at him and Derek caught his key on his chest.
“Sorry,” Stiles started speaking. “I kept it because I was leaving and I was putting them away in your mailbox, when I saw this guy looking at me intently, and it looked like he was watching where I was putting the key so I just shoved it in my pocket and went to class, and I didn’t even realize that I still had it until I was doing laundry earlier today and it fell out of the pocket. And that was a fun conversation to have with my best friend who seems to think we’re secretly dating or something, but anyway thanks again, and I’ll be leaving now. Bye.”
And he walked back to the elevator and Derek hadn’t even said anything.
“Wait,” he called out.
Stiles turned around so fast he almost fell over. He caught himself against the wall, “Yeah?”
Derek closed the door behind him ignoring the pointed looks everyone was throwing him, and walked over to where Stiles was leaning against the wall.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, and then hated himself for it because he hated when people told him that they were sorry after his uncle died.
“That’s not what I meant,” he started and then stopped.
This was why he did one night stands, because he could just stand there and get whoever he wanted because he had the looks, but when it came to conversation he struck out time and time again because he could never say the right thing, or he said nothing when he should’ve said something.
“About the painting,” he finished and it made no sense, he should just go back inside of his apartment and die.
But Stiles smiled and it wasn’t sad, he reached out and gently punched Derek on the shoulder, “No worries, man. It’s a beautiful painting that should be on display somewhere. They had just been collecting dust in my closet. I’m glad that at least one of them went somewhere where it’s being appreciated.”
Derek looked at Stiles and could tell from the way he was biting his lip and not looking at Derek directly in the face that there was much more to the story than just that.
But he nodded his head, “It is appreciated. And it’s a gorgeous painting. Your mom was very talented.”
Stiles let go of his lip and smiled again, “Thanks.”
They stood staring at each other again, and Stiles looked away and looked back at him from under his eyelashes, and Derek wanted to lean forward and kiss him, but then Stiles’ phone rang.
Stiles pulled back taking his phone out of his pocket and made a face at the phone, “Sorry, I have to go. But thanks again.”
Derek waved him off, “Thank you.”
Stiles saluted him and then turned around and walked back to the elevator.
It wasn’t until the elevator doors closed that Derek realized that he hadn’t gotten Stiles’ phone number.
----
Jackson, Erica and Isaac had all laughed at him.
Boyd hadn’t because Boyd was his bro and the only one to be getting a Christmas present this year, because the rest of his friends sucked hairy monkey balls.
Laura had also laughed and had petted his cheek and told him, “If it’s not meant to be, then it’s not meant to be.”
And what sort of advice was that?
Bullshit advice was what it was.
So for the next week Derek snapped at people and acted like an asshole because he had that second chance to get everything right and he blew it, because that’s what he did, he ruined things for everyone. Himself included.
He’d talked his way out of every relationship he could’ve had after Kate, but Kate was a psychotic bitch that left scars that will never heal, and he’s afraid to trust again. Or at least that’s what Laura says when she feels up to playing psychiatrist.
He was brooding about his lack of a love life, and the fact that all of his friends were paired up and doing couply shit that did not involve him, when he bumps into someone at the coffee shop and spills his coffee all over himself and the other person.
“Shit,” he hears a very familiar voice say. “I am so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going! And I’m sorry let me clean this up for you.”
He looks down in shock as Stiles starts wiping his t-shirt with the bunched up hoodie in his hands not even looking up at his face.
“Stiles,” he says a little shocked, and the kid’s head snapped up.
“Derek,” he squeaked and Derek had never heard his name sound that way before. “Hi! I’m so sorry!”
He starting babbling, and Derek tuned him out in favor of just looking at him. He looked the same as he did every other time that Derek had seen him, wearing jeans with a white shirt underneath and a plaid shirt, this one was blue and green. He had a backpack and there were headphones hanging around his neck as if he had been listening to music when he had bumped into Derek.
He caught into Stiles babble as he started to offer to buy him another coffee, but Derek reached out and grabbed his shoulders. Stiles stops speaking and looks up at him eyes wide and sort of scared.
He smiles reassuringly, and feels it when Stiles relaxes, “Don’t worry about it. I was heading home anyway.”
Stiles smiles back, “Sorry. I was listening to music and I get lost in my own world when that happens.” He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.
They stare at each other for a few more minutes before Stiles lets out a breath, “You sure you don’t want me to buy you another coffee? It’s the least that I can do?”
Derek shook his head, “If you really want to repay me then you should just give me your number.”
And that sounded way better in his head than it did out of his mouth.
He was about to apologize for it but Stiles’ smile had widened and his eyes were bright, “That’s something that I can totally get behind.”
He slipped off his backpack and searched for a pen and paper and then scrawled his number before handing it to Derek. Derek tugged it in his back pocket and smiled.
Stiles was blushing as he slipped back on his bag, “It was nice seeing you again. Sorry for bumping into you, but I actually have a shift to start in a few minutes.”
Derek opened his mouth to say that it was okay, and that it was a pleasure seeing him as well, when a voice sounded from behind them, “Actually your shift started five minutes ago. I was just giving you time to flirt and get Mr. Hunk’s number.”
Stiles flushed and glared at the girl behind the counter, “Shut it Allison! Or I’ll tell Scott about the thing with that Matt guy!”
The girl hid behind the counter smirking, and Derek turned back to Stiles who was still blushing, “Ignore her. She’s a pest.”
Derek smiled amused because his friends were a lot worst.
Stiles sighed, “Alrighty then, so I guess you’ll call me later?”
Derek grinned, “I’ll call you later.”
Stiles’ head dipped and he grinned, “Okay, bye.”
“Bye,” Derek says waving.
And Stiles backs away bumping into the counter and upsetting the pastry trays on display. He catches them just in time blushing so red, and then scurries into the back room. Derek smiles to himself and goes to leave when the girl, Allison calls out to him, “Hey, Mr. Hunk!”
He turns, and she smiles widely holding out another cup of coffee, “On the house for making Stiles light up like a Christmas tree. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him smile like that.”
Derek accepts the coffee and heads back to his apartment with his head in the clouds.
----
Laura is there when he gets home. So are Lydia and Erica. They are apparently doing their nails in his living room because the fumes give them headaches.
This usually pisses Derek off because when they leave the fumes give him headaches and then he looks at his coffee table and there are nail polish stains in the wood that takes hours to scrub off and then he has to polish the table to shine again and it’s time consuming.
But not today.
Today he grins at them and walks to his room to change his t-shirt before going back out and sitting at the dining room table with his coffee and his laptop to start on the proposal he has due next week.
The lack of chattering is what gets his attention.
When he looks up it’s to see that all three girls are staring at him in shock.
He can’t even manage to look serious for them.
“What?” he asks around a grin, and Laura actually shrieks and runs over on her heels to sit beside him on the table.
“Tell me everything!” she says excitedly. “And don’t leave anything out!”
Derek refused to tell her anything. He just turned back to his laptop and started typing. She would go away in a few minutes.
And then his laptop was being shut on his fingers and he hissed and pulled away, “I was working!”
Laura gave him a look, “You were ignoring me.”
“I didn’t even get to save it!” he complained almost pouting.
“You’ll survive,” she says sweetly. “Besides, Word automatically saves.”
He stuck his tongue out at her and tried to stay mad, but then he thought about how the blush worked its way up Stiles cheeks and was smiling like an idiot again.
“Come on!” Laura says pushing him back and sitting on his lap. “Spill! Or I’ll tell everyone about that time you dressed up in mom’s clothe…”
He covered her mouth with his hands, “Fine! Get off me!”
She smiles and slips off his lap and sits back down in the seat next to him and props her face in her hands, “You have my undivided attention little bro.”
Derek sighs, “Well, you were wrong.”
He relishes the look of shock on her face, “About what? I am never wrong!”
“You were wrong about me not being into you,” Lydia yells from the living room and then her and Erica dissolve into giggles. So they’ve apparently been hitting the wine.
Derek sighs and prepares himself for the rest of the day that is going to be full of giggles and probing questions.
“It is meant to be,” he says and grins stupidly because he can still feel the folded piece of paper in his pocket.
“You’re talking about Stiles?” she asks and then vibrates off her seat when he nods and smiles wider.
“Oh my god,” she whispers. “You are falling hard, little bro. The last time I saw you this infatuated was with Kate.”
Derek makes a face at her, “Did you have to ruin my happiness by mentioning that name?”
Laura looks at him sympathetically and then grins deviously, “If it had ruined your happiness, you wouldn’t still be smiling. Man, you got it bad! When do I get to meet him?”
Derek’s eyes widen in fear, “If I have it my way, never.”
Laura scoffs, “Please, just because you saw him first does not mean you get to keep him all to yourself. I tried his lasagna I want to try everything that he can cook, and if he can make Chicken Parmesan as well as that lasagna you are losing your boy, because I am going to kidnap him and make him my cooking slave.”
Derek rolls his eyes, “And that’s why you’re never meeting him.”
Laura pouts at him, “Come on! I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time! I just want to meet the boy that’s making you smile again.”
Derek was never able to build a resistance to that pout, “Fine, you can meet him. After I get to know him! No need to introduce you two now, you’ll just scare him off.”
Laura opened her mouth to say something, but Lydia was suddenly there pressing a kiss to her cheek, “It’s the truth sweetheart. Just give him time to reel the boy in.”
Laura turns her head and kisses her wife properly and Derek mimes gagging, “Can’t you guys do that somewhere else? Like your own house, maybe?”
Lydia flips him off, which is rude, and he just grabs his laptop and goes into his room.
----
He ends up not being able to concentrate because his sister decides to throw a party in his living room, and he wonders if any of these people have real jobs or is it just him. And then he pulls out the number from his back pocket.
He unfolds the note, and the seven digits are there along with a little smiley face and the words my shift ends at 8:30.
He looks at his watch to see that it’s only 5: 45.
He sighs and grabs his phone to save the number in it.
He hears a crashing sound and sighs resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to get anything done today.
He slips his phone back in his pocket and goes outside to contain as much of the damage as he could.
As it turned out, he wasn’t needed much, because Lydia was screeching at whomever it was that broke his lamp. She was screeching because that was the lamp that Laura and her had gotten Derek as his house warming gift. Derek was secretly glad that it had broken. He’d never had the heart to throw it out himself.
He settled himself between Erica and one of her friends who blushed and tried to move over. Derek just laughed, “I don’t bite.”
“Unless you ask him nicely,” Erica says winking at the girl who blushes even more and scurries away. Derek shakes his head, and Erica snuggles her head under his chin, “You should go in the kitchen and get us some beers because I’m tired of drinking wine coolers.”
Derek huffs, “So bossy.” But heads to the kitchen anyway.
He manages to get cornered by two of Laura’s oldest friends who’ve known Derek since he was seventeen. And he could never resist the urge to flirt with everyone so he smiled and offered them more wine, and when he left the kitchen there were lipsticks marks all over his cheeks and he had already downed one beer.
He sat down next to Erica again who laughed and tried to wipe the lipstick of his cheeks before grabbing her beer.
He loses track of how many beers he drinks and then someone breaks out the hard liquor, and one second he’s sitting next to Erica telling her about how Boyd is his favorite, and the next he’s stripping on top of the dining room table, and Lydia is cat calling in the living room and chanting at him to take it all off!
Derek really needs to reconsider his life choices.
Something that becomes abundantly clear when the doorbell rings and he opens the door and there is Stiles holding a 24 pack of beers and just watching him.
“Wow,” he says lightly, and sort of breathlessly.
And that’s when Derek remembers that he’s in his underwear.
He’s drunk enough to lean against the door and cross his arms over his chest and ask what’s up like if nothing is wrong.
Stiles licks his lips, “Um, I got a text from you saying, Party at my place bring beers. So I brought beers and my friends, and you’re in your underwear, and oh my god, how is your chest even real? Is it real? Can I touch it? Never mind.” And he blushes furiously.
Derek grins, and looks behind him to see Allison from the coffee shop and another boy with shaggy brown hair who is glaring at Derek like if he offended him, and it must have something to do with the fact that both Stiles and Allison are starting to drool.
“Come into my humble abode,” he puts his hand around Stiles neck and squeezes gently. “You know where the kitchen is.”
And Stiles blushes harder and Derek decides that that is going to be his new favorite activity, finding ways to make Stiles blush.
He goes into his room to put on some clothes, because he’s sobering up and is starting to regret ever drinking, and where is his phone?
With Laura obviously, because Laura doesn’t know the meaning of the word wait, or the word no, and had probably been the one to text Stiles, because she also didn’t know the meaning of the word privacy, and why did Derek put up with her again?
He walked out to see that Allison and the other guy were sitting down on the couch squished together by Erica and Lydia who were making noises as though they were the cutest couple they’ve ever seen. So that must be the Scott kid.
He finds Stiles cornered by his sister in the kitchen. And he looks a little freaked out, probably because Laura is intense when she’s sober, and when she’s drunk it becomes even more so. He steps forward and grabs her around the arm, “What did I say?”
She pouts at him, “But he’s so cute! Look at his face! I just want to pinch his cheeks and tuck him into bed and sing him lullabies and just have him cook every meal every day because he knows how to make calamari piedini in lemon leaves, and all you want to do is probably fuck him through your mattress, and maybe through the tiles in the bathroom, and there is that dining room table, it was sturdy enough when Lydia and I…”
Derek covered his sister’s mouth and tugged her out of the kitchen before setting her in Lydia’s lap, where she immediately curled into her wife and cried that Derek didn’t want to let her have a Stiles!
He rolled his eyes and went back to the kitchen where Stiles was drinking a beer and making patterns with the condensation it left on the counter. He jumped a bit when he saw Derek standing there. He cleared his throat and pointed to the living room, “So that’s your sister.”
Derek sighed, “Unfortunately. I could make a case for her and say she isn’t that crazy normally, but I would be lying.”
He smiles and looks back down before looking back up and gulping, “So was she right?”
Derek leaned against the counter next to Stiles, “About what?”
Stiles took a step towards him and suddenly he was right there in front of Derek breathing his hair, and all Derek had to do was step a bit closer and they would be kissing. He lifted his hand up and pressed his palm to Derek’s chest, “About what you want to do to me.”
And that was a blatant invitation, so Derek couldn’t be faulted if he backed Stiles into the fridge and pressed their bodies together fitting his hands around his face to tip it up a bit to press their mouths together.
Stiles curled his fingers into his shirt tugging on it and tilting his head before opening his mouth to Derek’s and moaning when the tip of his tongue touched the tip of Derek’s tongue. Derek pressed their tongues together rubbing his along Stiles. He let his hands slide down to the back of Stiles neck urging him closer and trying to kiss him deeper. Stiles’ fingers dug into his shoulders and their knees knocked together, before Stiles moved one foot to the side and suddenly Derek was straddling his thigh, and he groaned and pushed closer, and distantly he heard voices and the clatter of the fridge magnets falling on the floor but he couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the fact that Stiles was pressed against him and kissing back. That this thing between them wasn’t one-sided at all, and he just wanted to keep kissing him forever.
The universe apparently had other ideas.
Derek gasped and pulled away from Stiles as the cold water made its way down the back of his shirt. He looked at Stiles who looked just as shocked as he was and turned to see Laura smirking, “Cooled down? Just wanted to say goodbye, and to let you know that everyone is going home now, and maybe you shouldn’t be trying to sex up someone who looks like they’re still in high school in the kitchen. Show some class, lil bro!”
Derek glared at her and Stiles made a noise of protest, “I am twenty-one you know!”
Both Derek and Laura turned and looked at him incredulously at that. Stiles rolled his eyes, “Want to see my driver’s license?”
Laura turned back to Derek and winked outrageously, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
And then skips away while Derek snorts.
Slowly his apartment empties until the only noises he can hear are Erica, Allison and Scott talking in the living room. He turns back to Stiles whose eyes are glassy as if he was remembering something, and from the way he keeps licking his lips Derek hopes it’s the kiss they just shared. He raises his arms and traps him back against the fridge, and Stiles eyes focus on him and he blushes, “Hi.”
Derek smiles, “Hi.”
Someone snorts, “You guys are ridiculous.”
“Shut up, Scott,” Allison says. “They’re so cute!”
Derek sighs and pulls away from Stiles to look at his two friends.
Allison looks like she’d drunken too much in the thirty minutes that she’s been here, and Scott looked like if someone had pissed in his cornflakes, “We’ve got to go Stiles. We have class tomorrow.”
Stiles moves to pass Derek and Derek grabs his arm and tugs him close to press their mouths together lightly. Stiles pulls back blushing, “See you soon?”
Derek smiles and rubs his thumb against his skin, “You bet.”
Stiles waves and hits his hip against the counter before stumbling and grabbing on to Allison and Scott and heading out the door.
Derek spends a few minutes smiling and then he looks around and groans at the mess his apartment is in. Trust Laura to throw a party and leave the cleaning up to him. He sighs and walks over to the living room to find Erica passed out on the couch.
He shakes her awake and when she grumbles, he just lifts her and dumps her on his bed before texting Boyd, because Boyd would come over and help him clean and then because he’s Boyd, he’d curl up with Derek and Erica on his bed and sleep with them.
That’s why Boyd is his favorite.
But as he’s falling asleep and dreaming about that kiss,he starts to think that maybe Boyd might start having some competition.