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“Okay?” Stiles says, when Caitlin hands him a small box. He looks down at it and frowns. She’d just told him that he has a secret admirer and this was the first gift of many. “Who–?”
“Can’t tell you, sweetie. Now, you enjoy that gift and the fact that someone out there clearly cares about you.” Caitlin leans forward and kisses Stiles’ cheek. Then she’s bouncing down the hallway and all he can do is wonder who the hell would have a crush on him.
College had been an okay experience so far. Honestly, if he hadn’t had Scott, Allison, Erica, and Jackson around to keep him company, he might even say his experience was boring. Nothing interesting ever happens to him.
And then this? One of his friends hands him a box with no explanation. He opens the carefully wrapped box and lifts the lid.
Inside is a watch. Not just any watch. A Rolex. He swallows a lump in his throat and picks up the small note beside it. The handwriting is seriously neat.
set fifteen minutes fast so you aren’t late anymore
xo,
your secret admirer
Stiles blinks. That’s…that’s really weird. His secret admirer knows that he tends to run fifteen minutes behind? He’s not sure what to do about this. Stiles stares at the watch the entire walk back to his dorm room.
When he shows Scott the watch and the note, he asks, “Do you recognize the writing?”
“Yeah. It looks like Allison’s. But she definitely couldn’t afford this watch and she’s crazy about me so…” Scott says, looking back at Stiles. “Who do you think it is?”
“I don’t know. I should ask Ally, I guess.”
“Are you going to wear the watch?” Scott asks.
“I think so. It’s really fucking nice. But what if it’s from a stalker?” Stiles murmurs. “I think a stalker is more likely to happen to me than a secret admirer, don’t you?”
“No.”
Stiles frowns and plays with the watch in his hands. He slips it onto his wrist and it fits perfectly. “Looks good.”
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Allison denies it’s her writing so Stiles is back to square one.
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The next gift he receives is a new video game for his xbox that he’s been excited for since they announced it. The thing is Stiles can’t stop staring at it because the game hasn’t been released yet. He brings it home to Scott and they stare at it.
“Whatcha got there?” Jackson asks when he emerges from his bedroom. He looks at Stiles curiously.
“Someone–a secret admirer–bought Stiles that new game he won’t shut up about. It isn’t being released for another two months though,” Scott says, looking back at Stiles. “He also got a Rolex from the admirer two weeks ago.”
“Maybe,” Stiles whispers, “I’m being stalked. We can’t rule that out yet.”
Jackson snorts. “You really think someone would rather stalk you than have a crush on you?”
“Don’t you think it’s more likely? I mean, we’ve been at college for months now and no one’s looked twice at me!” Stiles flops onto the couch. “No one. And why would they?”
Jackson sits down on the couch beside Stiles and takes the game out of his hands. He looks at it carefully and whistles. “Mint condition. Maybe they really do like you, Stilinski. Is there anyone you might want it to be?”
Stiles’ eyes jerk up to look at Jackson. Anyone he might want his secret admirer to be? Well duh. But he’s not an idiot. No way in a million, billion, years would Jackson ever look back at him like that. Nope, never.
Stiles shakes his head. Jackson shrugs and suggests they play it to see if it’s real. He lets Scott put it into the xbox and hand out the controllers. Stiles tries not to let Jackson’s knee touching his distract him, but he does.
And loses. Loses hard.
Fuck. Why couldn’t Jackson be the one who was crushing on him?
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“Another gift, Stilinski?” Jackson asks, when he points to the box on the kitchen table. He opens the fridge door and pulls out orange juice.
“It was sitting in front of our front door. There was no stamp. Which means my stalker was in our apartment.” Stiles stares at the box. “Do you hear any ticking?”
Jackson rolls his eyes and pours his orange juice in a glass beside him at the island. “I’m sure this guy’s really into you.”
“Guy? Why do you think it’s a guy?” Stiles asks, looking at Jackson with surprise.
He shrugs. “Girl. Whoever.”
Stiles’ shoulders drop. So it’s not Jackson. Not that Stiles expected it to be. Jackson and Stiles hadn’t had the easiest relationship. They’d mostly fought at the beginning a few years ago. Since moving in here last year, they’ve been doing well.
Jackson has stopped bullying Stiles so much, and Stiles has stopped intentionally provoking Jackson. It’s been nice. Sometimes they even hang out without Scott around. It rarely happened. Jackson likes to pretend he has a reputation to uphold.
“Are you going to open it?” Jackson asks.
“I don’t know. I’m kind of nervous. Like the watch and the unreleased video game was a bit much. How does one top that?” Stiles says, staring at the box. “And why aren’t you making fun of me for this?”
“Why would I make fun of you? You’re always whining about how no one romances you and now someone’s finally doing it and you’re upset.” Jackson rolls his eyes before turning to put the orange juice carton back into the fridge.
“I know but…this is so much. It’s overwhelming. How can I ever repay someone for this stuff?” Stiles whispers.
“You don’t. They’re obviously doing it because they have a crush on you. Or want to kill you. Whatever theory you’re more into today,” Jackson says, with a smile. “Fuck, Stilinski, the suspense is killing me. Open the damn thing.”
Stiles frowns. He hates the idea of opening this in front of Jackson, who clearly has no jealousy towards this anonymous person whatsoever. Was it too much to ask for Jackson to be a little jealous?
Stiles caves and finally opens the box. Only to find it mostly empty except an envelope on the bottom underneath a large rock.
“It’s a murderer,” Stiles mumbles as he tugs the envelope out. He looks at the writing on it. Nope, his name is in someone else’s handwriting. Whoever it was is being extremely careful not to make it easy for him. “What the–?”
He empties the envelope to see two tickets to the Mets game land on the table.
“What are those?” Jackson asks, reaching out for one. Stiles snatches them from the table.
“Mets tickets. They got me tickets. To see the Mets. Two tickets. And a note.” Stiles picks it up. “It says that I should take whoever I want.”
“When’s the game?” Jackson asks.
“Um. Saturday. Are you free?” he asks, hoping he sounds casual enough. Jackson must never find out about his feelings.
“Saturday? Yeah, sure. I’m free.”
“Want to come with me?”
Jackson studies Stiles for a moment, a small smile creeping onto his beautiful face, and then he nods. “Yeah, I’d like that. It should be fun.”
“Great! Consider it a date–except well–you know.”
Jackson ducks his head and heads into the living room. Stiles is left staring at the tickets. It doesn’t count as a date, but man, if it did. He’d have a date with Jackson. He turns to glance at his roommate. His heart speeds up with Jackson looks back at him.
“C’mon Stilinski, we have a game to beat!”
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Stiles and Jackson spend the entire weekend together. It’s a fluke, really. Jackson’s class gets cancelled on Friday afternoon and since Stiles doesn’t have class on Friday, they end up playing the game for most of the afternoon.
Scott calls to say that he’s going to his girlfriend’s place for the night. Stiles doesn’t mind. He passes the message on to Jackson, who simply declares that he gets Scott’s third of the dessert.
On Saturday, they go to the game. Stiles has no idea how fun Jackson can be until they’re both swearing like sailors at the opposing team. They almost get themselves kicked out. They share a sheepish look with flushed faces and Jackson tells Stiles that he had a really fun time as they leave. Stiles’ mood is a little spoiled at the fact that the Mets lost, but then Jackson suggests ice cream.
After spending the afternoon wandering around the city together, they finally make it back to the apartment. Again, there’s a present waiting for Stiles. Neither of them talk when he picks it up and brings it inside. He sets it on the kitchen counter and leaves it there untouched.
Scott isn’t coming home Saturday night either, so Stiles suggests they watch a movie. They pile onto the couch together and eventually after the second movie and many uncomfortable positions, they settle with Stiles snuggling up on Jackson’s chest. That’s how Stiles wakes up because they had both fallen asleep during the third movie.
When he realizes he has morning wood which is settled on Jackson’s thigh, he jumps up off the couch. Jackson’s a heavy sleeper and doesn’t wake. Stiles wanders into the kitchen to grab a glass of cold water.
Then he sees that his present from his secret admirer is sitting on the counter. He doesn’t want to open it. He would rather live in his fantasy world where Jackson felt the same way about him than have some stranger crush on him.
“You gonna open it or not?” Jackson murmurs a few minutes later. Stiles jumps and turns to look at him.
“I don’t–I don’t know.”
“Oh. Why not?”
“Because I don’t know this person!”
“Secret admirer or stalker who is going to kill you, at least they have excellent taste in gifts, right?” Jackson yawns and rubs his chest. “Did you drool on me last night?”
Oh god, so they’re going to acknowledge that Stiles had fallen asleep in Jackson’s warm arms? Great. Stiles shrugs. “Probably, man. I didn’t mean to–”
“It was nice,” Jackson interrupts. “Now open the damn gift, Stilinski.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Stiles steps up to it slowly, as though it might bite him. He’s being ridiculous. He glances back at Jackson who waits, an impatient expression on his face. When Stiles opens the box, he’s not sure what he’s expecting.
He swallows and picks up the envelope. “It’s small.”
“More Mets tickets? I could definitely go for another weekend like this,” Jackson admits.
Stiles frowns and pulls the tickets out. He freezes when he reads what they’re for.
“Stiles? You okay?”
He nods and turns around. “They’re tickets for home…to go visit my dad.”
“Oh. Is that a big deal?” Jackson asks.
Stiles nods again. “Yeah. I was just telling Scott the other day how I wish I had money to go home to visit him. It’s been tough moving all the way to New York. We’re not exactly a half-hour car ride away.”
“No,” Jackson says, softly. “You know you’re more than welcome to come home with me anytime I go. And if you ever miss your dad, I don’t mind covering the expenses. It’s not like I’ll miss the money.”
Stiles’ eyes go wide. “I–Jackson, thank you. I’ll probably never take you up on that offer, but it means a lot.”
Jackson gives him a nod and then asks, “When are you heading home?”
“Thursday night.” Stiles frowns at the tickets. He had been hoping for another weekend like this with Jackson. Something relaxed and fun. “Did you want to come home with me?”
“Well, I think your secret admirer thought it’s best thatyou go home. Maybe they wouldn’t like it if you brought a person with you?” Jackson says, studying Stiles carefully.
“I don’t care. i’d like to go home with you. It’d be nice to have company,” Stiles tells him, his tone firm. “Will you?”
“Sure, why not? I’m sure my parents will be thrilled to see me.”
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The day before they head home, Stiles wakes up before 6am. It’s highly unusual for him but his bladder is killing him. He sneaks off to the bathroom but freezes in the hallway coming back to his room because he hears the front door open.
Who the hell is coming or leaving the apartment at this time? He peeks around the corner and sees someone bent down. A second later, they straighten, shut the door carefully, and tiptoe back towards the hall.
It’s Jackson. Stiles ducks and tries to walk back to his room quietly, but he steps on the wrong floor board. A loud creak echos in the apartment.
It’s like accidentally discovering who Santa really is…and then having Santa catch you finding out. He wants to curl up and disappear. It’s too early in the morning to be doing this.
“Scott?” Jackson whispers. “Is that you?”
Stiles steps around the corner with his hands up. “It’s me.”
“Stiles! What are you doing up?” Jackson says, looking extremely guilty.
“Bathroom. What are you doing up?” Stiles asks.
“Oh. Um, just sneaking a girl out of the apartment.”
It’s a good lie, but Stiles knows it’s a lie now. He shakes his head. “Why have you been leaving me gifts?”
“You wouldn’t shut up about wanting to be romanced! And it was supposed to be a prank. Really.” Jackson rubs the back of his neck. “It wasn’t supposed to…”
“To what?” Stiles asks.
“Mean anything. But I caught you looking at the watch so much and then I knew that the Mets tickets would make you happy. When I realized that I really, really wanted to go with you…it wasn’t a prank anymore.”
“So what? You have feelings for me now or something?” Stiles demands.
“Yeah, I do! I’m sorry! You drive me crazy but I love being around you. I love who I am around you. You make me happy. Okay?”
“Okay,” Stiles says, moving closer to Jackson. “Because I lied to you too.”
“What?”
“I wanted it to be someone. I wanted my secret admirer to be you. The whole time. Before that even. I like you, Whittemore.”
“Oh.”
Stiles smiles at Jackson. “Are you going to stand there or are you going to do something about it?”
Jackson pushes Stiles against the wall, his lips finding Stiles’ a second later. Stiles feels his skin burn with need because they can’t kiss fast enough, can’t touch each other fast enough. Jackson rubs his body against Stiles’, causing him to let a deep moan escape his lips.
They don’t hear Scott’s door open. Don’t notice him stare at them in shock. Don’t hear him whine, “You guys, really? It’s six in the morning!” And they definitely don’t see him pack up quickly and leave the apartment.
Jackson drags Stiles towards his room. Against his lips, he says, “I really like you. I like you too much. So much.”
"Mmm, I like the sounds of that,” Stiles whispers back. “I guess I can introduce you to my dad as my boyfriend now?”
"Can we not talk about your dad while I try to get you out of your ridiculous boxers?” Jackson asks, grinning at him.
“Batman isn’t ridiculous!” Stiles argues. He forgets every single point he has when Jackson pulls him in for another deep kiss. Hell, he forgets his name by the time Jackson’s hands run down his back.
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