Work Text:
1. Boyd
“Hale!”
Derek cringes at the sound of Scott McCall’s loud voice.
He washes a sweatdrop off his forehead with his jersey, still panting from the P.E. class that just ended, before raising his head.
The omega is pointing at one of the running tracks while the rest of the students heads for the locker room. Derek stares at him incredulously.
“Do you think I’m five or something?”
Derek hasn’t stooped low enough to do a ‘who-run-the-fastest’ competition with Scott McCall.
But McCall just smirks. “Well, mentally, you are.”
“It’s just stupid to do that, even for you,” Derek states as he starts walking the opposite way. There is finality in his tone, it's not up for discussion. But McCall is as stubborn as a mule.
“Don’t be scared just because you know I’m faster!”
He's planning to ignore him, but from the corner of his eye, Derek can see a mop of brown hair approaching McCall. He clenches his teeth. Ah, shit. Here we go again.
“Alright.” He turns to face McCall, chest puffed out.
As expected, Stiles Stilinski is now next to McCall. The newcomer rolls his eyes at their antics, firm arms crossed against his chest. Derek notices he has already switched his sports uniform for one of his usual flannel shirts, and he stares at him a minute too long before finally managing to take his eyes off him.
“Scott,” Stiles only says, but the reproach in his voice is crystal clear.
McCall pouts at Stiles.
“Come on, Stiles! I’m sure to win that one!”
“You think that’s the problem? I’m the one giving you a ride home, and I don’t have the time to watch you two run like the competitive monkeys you are.”
Derek feels his ears blush at the comparison. He wants to argue back, but Stiles is right, he is a competitive monkey.
“I’m not a competitive monkey!” McCall retorts like a petulant child, but he follows Stiles nonetheless.
Derek watches Stiles’ retreating back, before lightly kicking a pebble next to his shoes.
And here goes another day without being able to talk to him like a normal person.
The pettiest rivalry known in Beacon Hills High School and the rest of the world started a year ago, in Derek’s junior year, when he accidentally bumped into Scott McCall and spilled all of his bolognese on his shirt in front of everyone in the cafeteria.
Derek is usually not the type to blame. But it’s not an usual situation, because McCall’s best friend, Stiles Stilinski, is standing in front of Derek, and looking at him with owlishly round eyes. It’s the closest Derek has ever been to Stiles, since, maybe sixth grade, the last year he has been in Stiles’ class.
And Stiles is the prettiest, smartest omega Derek has ever bestowed his eyes upon. Doe eyes, messy brown hair, long eyelashes, and the prettiest pink lips of the mortal realm: Derek has been head over heels for him ever since eighth grade, when Stiles kicked Aiden Steiner in the balls for harassing McCall.
At the moment, however, he’s drenched in tomato sauce, and humiliated in front of the guy of his dreams. His alpha-brain doesn’t think further, doesn’t even register the fact that McCall is, like Stiles, an omega. He starts to cuss at McCall, but McCall snarks back, and it makes the whole cafeteria laugh. Stiles barely hides a snort behind his hand.
It could have ended like that, and no one would have ever talked about it again, but of course Derek is childish and doesn’t let it go. Ever since that day, he keeps challenging McCall at everything: chem class, ice-cream eating, he even once tried to beat McCall at lacrosse even though there’s only one of them on the school team and it’s not Derek. It’s pathetic, really, but does he care? Not the slightest in the world, because suddenly, Stiles is looking at Derek with googly eyes when Derek shows off his better grade to McCall, and he laughs heartily when Derek tries to juggle with one more ball than McCall and obviously struggles. It’s a drug, to see Stiles react to the dumb stuff he does, that Derek cannot stop.
The thing is, it’s been over a year now since the incident, and he actually never talked to him directly, despite using McCall as an excuse to approach him at every occasion.
Talking to Stiles shouldn’t be that hard, Derek thinks bitterly. Find a moment when Stiles is not with McCall or Allison Argent, smile at him, ask him how he’s doing, and wow, I’ve heard about this cool place near the city hall, you wanna go?
“Earth to Derek?” Boyd calls, and throws the basketball at him. Derek catches it by reflex, a surprised look on his face. The squeaking of shoes on the wooden floor wakes him from his daydream.
“Yep, sorry.”
Stiles has been running a lot on his mind lately. It can be troublesome sometimes, especially when it happens in the middle of basketball practice with the whole team, of which he’s the captain.
He shoots a perfect three-pointer and runs to retrieve the ball that fell near the bleachers.
He needs to get Stiles out of his system. He can’t afford to be distracted all the time, and it is happening more and more often lately. And to do that, he has to fucking finally talk to Stiles.
It’s easy. Not hard. He can do it. He’s gonna do it, today. Say hi —
“Hi.”
Derek, who’s been crouching on the ground to get his basketball, raises his head so fast he thinks his neck is going to break. Before him, Stiles Stilinski, in all his glory, is smiling down at him. Like everyday, he has disheveled hair, a graphic tee-shirt, red-blotchy cheeks, and is devastatingly handsome.
Derek blinks twice, checking if he did not materialize Stiles out of thin air because he’s been thinking about him too hard. Then, Stiles’ scent hits him — he smells like strawberry, a sweet and comforting scent that has been following Derek even in his wettest dreams for almost three years now.
He can’t believe he didn’t smell Stiles when the omega came in. Probably because of the ambient sweat, and shit — he probably reeks right now. He gets up, feeling even more self-conscious, and wipes his hands on his shorts.
“Hi,” he wants to say, except he doesn’t say it. His brain is still whirling around the fact that Stiles is in front of him, talking to him on his own volition.
At his silence, Stiles starts to fidget, and scratches the back of his head.
“Sorry for interrupting your practice, I forgot my sweatshirt here last period, you’ve seen it? It’s like, gray with a small Batman logo. ”
“Huh, no, but I can, I can help you find it,” Derek offers, and he’s proud of himself for finally aligning more than two words to Stiles.
They search for it for fifteen minutes, to no avail. Stiles finally seems to give up and walks to Derek with a grimace on his face.
“Did you find anything?”
“Not yet,” Derek answers from under a bleacher. When he tries to get up, he slightly hits his head on one of the seats.
“You okay?” Stiles asks hurriedly. He hovers his hand on where Derek bumped his head, but hesitates, and finally withdraws it.
Derek rubs the back of his skull, embarrassed. “Yeah, sorry for your sweatshirt, though.”
“It’s okay, thank you for your help. I didn’t like it that much anyway.”
Stiles smiles lightly, but Derek knows he’s lying given the number of times he has seen Stiles walk around the school in it.
“I have to cook for my dad, so I really need to go anyway. See you,” Stiles continues, and he disappears before Derek can say another word.
In the locker room, Boyd walks up to him.
“You’re daydreaming during practice and then you miss the fifteen last minutes, you should be glad the coach wasn’t around today.”
“Sorry, I have a hard time focusing lately.” Derek packs his shoes in his sports bag and shakes his head. “I have a lot on my mind.”
Boyd snickers. “Is it because of McCall?”
“What? Not at all,” Derek frowns, genuinely confused. Boyd just hides a knowing smile.
“What’s up with Stilinski anyway? He’s got a problem with you? Or is it about McCall?”
“Nothing, he just lost some clothes,” Derek says, not understanding why Boyd keeps mentioning McCall.
He doesn’t really care anyway, too preoccupied by the fact that he did not find Stiles’ sweatshirt. He feels so lame for not finding it, and he feels so stupid because he shouldn’t feel lame, like, it’s not his fault Stiles lost his sweatshirt. But he can’t help it.
He rewinds their conversation again, again and again, and he can’t believe he thought he could walk up to Stiles and ask him on a date when all he could muster in front of him was a caveman impression. And then, he feels even stupider.
2. Erica
It’s the next morning, during his first class of the day, that he sees the infamous Batman sweatshirt again. On fucking Greenberg’s back.
After the class ends, Derek walks up to Greenberg and smiles at him. It’s definitely not a gentle smile.
“Hi Greenberg.”
Greenberg is also an alpha, and it is well-known that Derek is really not the type to chitchat, which probably makes Greenberg very wary of the situation. He eyes Derek suspiciously, and his steps drift to avoid him, but Derek catches his shoulder before he can get too far.
“Where did you get this sweatshirt? It’s pretty cool.”
“Purchased it yesterday, so what?” Greenberg spats, freeing his shoulder from Derek’s grasp. There’s not a lot of people in the hallway, and they are both alphas. People are used to hormonal alpha teenagers having their conversations a little heated, and while Derek had always thought he was above that, look where he is.
He considers Greenberg’s shirt and it’s obviously used, with a small hole on the right sleeve. But most of all, it still fucking smells like Stiles. The dickhead didn’t even wash the sweatshirt before wearing it.
There’s only one reason why an alpha would steal an omega’s clothes without washing them and it’s fucking disgusting. He can’t believe fucking Greenberg steals Stiles’ clothes when Derek doesn’t even dare to look at Stiles in the eyes. This is throwing up material.
“You and I both know it’s not yours, Greenberg. Return it to Stilinski.”
“Why? You’re jealous?”
Derek grits his teeth and grabs him by the collar.
“I’m not playing around Greenberg. You fucking take this sweatshirt off.”
“Oh god, I get it! Why do you care so much?” Greenberg pushes Derek to extract himself from his grasp. “There are so many better omegas than Stilinski out there,” he grunts as he removes the sweatshirt. “You know you can pull whatever you want, you could leave us your leftovers at least.”
He throws the sweatshirt on the ground, but Derek doesn’t see it. He’s too focused on not punching a hole in Greenberg’s face, and it’s not very successful, because the next thing he knows, Greenberg is holding his nose in his hands, and blood is coming out of it.
Derek gets two hours of detention, but at least the Batman sweatshirt is carefully tucked in his bag. While Greenberg probably didn’t have the time to do weird things with it (there’s no trace of his scent on the sweatshirt), Derek puts it in the laundry as soon as he gets home.
Cora comes home later in the night, as he pours himself a bowl of cereal after dinner. She enters the kitchen and glances at him judgmentally before taking a yogurt from the fridge.
“Where have you been?” he asks her.
“Went for dinner at Lydia’s.” She peels off the lid of her yogurt and digs in. “Heard you’ve been in a fight today.”
He rolls his eyes.
“You can hardly call that a fight. They’re not feeding you at Lydia’s house?”
“Har-har. Where are mom and dad?”
“Also went out for dinner,” Derek only replies, munching on his spoon.
His parents and his little sister are all having dinners with the loves of their lives and Derek is at home, pathetically eating a bowl of cereal in the middle of the night while washing the stolen clothes of an omega who is, accessorily, his arch enemy’s best friend.
He kind of dug his own grave with that whole rivalry thing, though.
He decides to return Stiles’ sweatshirt by putting it directly in his locker a few days later. He’s afraid that if Derek gives it to Stiles in person, Stiles would be suspicious that he did something to it, especially given Derek and McCall’s past record.
Stiles’ locker is not secured with anything, which makes Derek’s task easier, but also makes him worried about the omega’s defenselessness. Anybody could open it and put anything in, like Derek is doing right now.
The locker is only decorated with a picture of Stiles, McCall, and Allison Argent, Stiles’ other best friend and an omega too. Aside from that, there is only one history book, a rolled up lab coat, and some flying test papers. Derek easily finds the space to place the sweatshirt.
As he quickly moves away from Stiles’ locker to avoid being seen, he comes face to face with McCall, who watches him with squinted eyes. Just his luck.
“What are you doing, Hale?” McCall says in lieu of greetings. “Your locker is not here.”
Derek frowns. “So what, I can’t walk around the school anymore?”
McCall purses his lips and goes straight towards Stiles’ locker. Derek follows to prevent him from opening it, his heart beating wildly in his chest. But McCall actually stops one meter before, in front of his own locker.
He opens it with caution and braces himself, as if something is going to jump at his face, but nothing happens. Derek leans on the lockers next to him and smirks.
“What? You thought I put something weird in your locker?”
“I don’t put it past you, with your pea brain.”
“And you wish you had one to begin with,” Derek retorts, and at the same time, he hears a snort behind him.
“Stiles!” McCall exclaims indignantly. “You’re not supposed to laugh at his insults!”
As Stiles walks past Derek and shares a complicated handshake with McCall, the alpha unconsciously straightens his posture.
“You asked for it, Scott,” Stiles says, and he nods at Derek. “Hi. Thank you again for the other day.”
Stiles is beautiful as always, his moles dotting his face like a starry sky. He’s hiding his hands in his pockets, a light smile directed towards the alpha. His strawberry scent tickles Derek’s nose, and Derek thinks, I need him, I’m burning for him with the passion of a thousand suns.
“What happened the other day?” McCall asks, pinching his lips.
Stiles’ smiling expression morphs into something apologetic, much to Derek’s chagrin. He turns to look at his best friend with furrowed eyebrows. “Nothing special, he just helped me look for the sweatshirt I lost the other day.”
“You’re welcome, but I should get going,” Derek scratches the back of his head and walks away before the two omegas can say anything. He doesn’t want Stiles to open his locker in front of him, and to make the connection between the sweatshirt and him.
He is barely out of their sight when Erica jumps at him and puts him in a headlock.
“What’s up, lover boy?”
“Lover boy?” Derek repeats, unimpressed.
“Saw you talking to the omega of your dreams,” his best friend laughs gleefully. “The sexual tension was palpable.”
Derek feels the blood rising to his head, from his neck to his ears. It’s a volcano eruption. He didn’t know his crush on Stiles was this obvious, but Erica has always been particularly perceptive, and it’s not like he is good at hiding it.
“I barely talked to him. And he’s not the omega of my dreams,” he retorts weakly, convincing no one, not even himself.
Erica just rolls her eyes. She looks at him like she’s wondering what he’s taking her for.
“Yeah, right. You’re 24/7 looking at him with heart eyes.”
“What? I’m not!”
“Whatever you say,” Erica only answers, ever the saintess. “Don’t forget you’re giving me a ride after school.”
“I’m contemplating leaving you here.”
She takes him by the arm and grins.
“Smile, Big Wolf, I’m paying you a pizza tonight.”
“Nothing to smile about in my life,” Derek mumbles.
3. Isaac
However, the weeks pass, and he has yet to see Stiles wear the Batman sweatshirt again. He wonders if Stiles knows that Greenberg wore it, and if that’s why he doesn’t want to wear it anymore. Or maybe worse, if it’s because he knows it’s Derek who gave it back. He shouldn’t have washed it with the rest of his clothes. Fuck.
Feeling self-conscious and a bit disgusted with himself, he enters his favorite class, AP Physics, unusually dejected. He normally loves this class, because Mr. Bernard is an incredible teacher, he loves physics, and bonus, Stiles is sitting in the seat just behind him. However, right now, he doesn’t want Stiles to see him. For all he knows, Stiles has been telling himself for weeks now that Derek is some kind of pervert everytime he has been laying his eyes on him.
Mr. Bernard talks about a group project, and the noise volume in the class starts to rise. People are starting to get in groups of two, but Derek doesn’t really know anyone in the class, so he just waits for someone to come to him. It usually happens fast enough.
He still takes a glance behind him, curious to see if Stiles already got someone, but the omega looks right back at him before he can avert his gaze.
“Oh,” Stiles just says.
Derek’s heart is about to jump off his chest, and instantly, he loses all ability to talk.
“Do you have a partner?” Stiles continues.
Derek can just shake his head.
“Well, you wanna be my partner?”
Yes, for the rest of my life if you would have me, Derek thinks. He doesn’t say so, obviously, and just writes their names on the list of groups. If Stiles suggested that they form a group together, maybe he actually doesn’t think that Derek is a pervert.
“So… What do you want to make this project on?”
“I was thinking about the Magnus effect,” Derek finally manages to say, and it’s like a spell is broken. Talking to Stiles is not impossible, and Stiles doesn’t secretly hate him.
They talk about it for the rest of the class, and when the bell rings, Derek thinks he’s on auto-pilot, because he asks : “Do you want to go to my house after school?”
And Stiles says yes.
Derek really hopes he has cleaned his room.
He parks his Camaro in front of his house, and Stiles does the same with his blue Jeep not long after.
“Make yourself at home,” Derek says as he opens his door. He sees Cora’s shoes by the staircase, but the house is silent, so she’s probably taking a nap.
When they get to his (thankfully clean) room, they start doing their research in silence, but Derek’s senses are going haywire as Stiles’ scent starts to mix with his own in the room.
After a while, it is Stiles who breaks the silence.
“Derek? Can I ask you a question?”
“I’m listening,” Derek skims through his textbook, frowning at some obscure formula.
“Why are you so hellbent on challenging Scott everytime?”
Derek raises his head and his eyes meet Stiles’. He feels the blush creep to his ears.
“Oh, you don’t want to know, really. It’s stupid and childish,” he evades. He can’t possibly say, “It’s because it makes you look at me.”
Stiles doesn’t seem to be satisfied with this answer, but he lets the subject go, much to Derek’s joy. He doesn’t know if he can lie to Stiles if the omega decides to pry.
However, after a few minutes, Stiles speaks up again.
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
“What?” Derek asks, genuinely confused.
“To be partnered up with me for the project,” Stiles answers. “I mean, with Scott being my best friend and all. Aren’t you supposed to hate each other? Don’t you hate me by association?”
Derek furrows his eyebrows and sets his book aside.
“Stiles, I don’t hate McCall, and I surely don’t hate you ,” it’s the opposite, really.
Stiles seems surprised by his words.
“Well, you have a weird way of showing it,” Stiles mumbles.
“What do you mean?”
Stiles bites the inside of his left cheek and seems to ponder a few seconds before answering.
“What kind of alpha keeps challenging an omega they ‘don’t hate’?”
“I’m stupid,” Derek only offers.
Stiles blinks twice, before throwing his head back in a laugh. The sound is a delight for Derek’s ears, who can’t help but stare.
“Judging from your grades, you’re far from stupid, Derek.”
“Academically smart and emotionally smart are two different things,” Derek shrugs.
Stiles smiles cheekily. “Well, at least you’re aware of it.”
Stiles has moved closer to Derek, and Derek can glimpse a part of Stiles’ skin that is usually hidden under his collar.
That, combined with Stiles’ scent under his nose, makes him weak in the knees. Stiles is so close yet so far, and Derek’s alpha screams, I could be so good for you, if only you would let me.
He gulps and avoids his gaze.
“I have two sisters. They keep reminding me when I tell them I’m smarter than them.”
“Two? I know Cora, but I didn’t know you had another one.”
“Laura is studying in Boston,” Derek explains.
“Oh. Wish that were me.”
“You want to study there?”
Stiles shrugs. “A man can dream.”
“You have the grades for it.”
“You know my grades?” Stiles asks, seemingly surprised. Derek scratches the back of his head. Is he being too obvious?
“More or less,” he tries to be nonchalant. “But if you want to keep those grades up, we need to get an A+ for this project,” Derek points at the scattered pile of papers in front of Stiles.
The omega’s shoulders slump. “Oh, right. The project,” he says, like he’s disappointed or something.
They keep studying for an hour more. When Derek glances at the clock again, it’s already almost dinner time. His parents are coming home soon, and he doesn’t want them to ask awkward questions about, or worse, to Stiles.
“Well, I’d better gather my stuff and get going,” Stiles states. Derek nods, and he walks him to the front door.
It’s already dark outside, and the front porch lights are turned on. The yellow glow is softly reflecting on Stiles’ pale skin, and Derek can’t help but stare again. There’s something raw within him that is growing, a burning flame threatening to expand the closer he gets to Stiles.
“Can I get your number?” Derek only blurts out instead, handing out his phone, and he can’t believe he said it. Stiles looks very surprised, so Derek hurries to add, “for the project, I mean.”
Stiles blushes, and Derek gets a fuzzy feeling in his stomach.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” and he enters his number in Derek’s phone.
When Stiles leaves in his Jeep, Derek does a little victory dance. Texting, that he can do. It’s way easier than talking.
Indeed, it’s easy to text Stiles. He’s funny, and smart, and Derek is even more smitten if this is possible. Stiles texts him about a lot of little things in his life, like, “I saw a bird that looked like you, it was frowning somehow”, or “My dad wants me dead because I cooked him vegan burgers”.
He’s at Boyd’s house playing video games with his friends when his phone buzzes with a text. It’s been a few days since Stiles’ last one, so he pauses the game and checks his phone immediately. Boyd throws his hands up in disbelief.
“I was winning!”
From: Stiles
i wanna watch the new spiderman movie so bad, but nobody wanna watch it with me :'(
“Hey, what are you pausing for?” Isaac complains, and then stares at him curiously when Derek is so engrossed in his text that he doesn’t deign to answer.
To: Stiles
oh, too bad
I'm going to watch it with my sister this weekend I can't wait
won't spoil you don't worry lol
He hesitates a few seconds before sending his next message.
if you want you can come with us
And there, he said it. His heart is beating a mile a minute. There’s a small three-dot bubble forming on the other side of the screen, indicating that Stiles is replying. When he finally manages to take his eyes off his phone, he comes face to face with Isaac, who has gotten closer to watch the whole exchange rolling.
“You’re going to the movies with your sister and… Stilinski?” Isaac asks incredulously. “And you’re not asking McCall?”
Derek looks at him quizzically, thinks about why he should be asking McCall, and then realizes maybe it is too soon to ask Stiles to come watch a movie with his sister . Maybe Stiles would feel awkward, since he doesn’t know Cora at all. If Stiles had to bring someone else to be more at ease, it would probably be McCall. But at the same time, Derek doesn’t want McCall to come at all.
It’s been a minute and Stiles is still typing, maybe to find a way to decline the offer gently. So Derek adds :
I would tell you to bring Scott with you if you want, but I guess he can't since you don't have anybody to go with you
As soon as the message is delivered, the three dots disappear and transform into a message.
From: Stiles
nah wouldn’t want to intrude dw
Derek’s heart sinks.
“I asked, but I think it’s a no,” he throws his phone on the other side of the couch.
“Ouch. I’m sure he’ll come around,” Isaac says, and pats Derek on the shoulder.
4. Cora
Derek is a bit disappointed by this first rejection, but he doesn’t lose hope. Technically, he didn’t really invite Stiles on a date since his sister was supposed to be there, so the rejection stings less. Moreover, Stiles still texts him as often as before, and sometimes even seeks Derek after class.
It’s lunch time and it’s sunny outside today, so Stiles texts him to suggest that they work on the AP Physics project in the schoolyard after lunch.
Stiles joins Derek, who is already sitting at one of the picnic tables outside and scrolling through his laptop. The omega scrambles to take a seat, but he is smiling from ear to ear despite his visible hurry to get here.
“So, what’s left to do on the project?” Stiles begins with, taking a multitude of notebooks from his backpack.
Derek skims through a file on his laptop.
“I think we’re done with the first part, but we still need to do the second one and a few experiments to test some of the hypotheses…”
Stiles nods and they start studying. They are both engrossed in their research when a feminine voice reaches their ears
“Hey Derek.”
Derek raises his head and sees a dark-haired omega from his English class. He thinks her name is Jennifer.
“Can I talk to you in private?”
She’s playing with her hands, and blushing. Not too far behind her, her friends are barely hiding their giggles and glances. This can only mean one thing, and he absolutely doesn’t want this to happen in front of Stiles.
Speaking of Stiles, his eyes dart back and forth between Jennifer and Derek, a crimson blush on his cheeks.
“Can’t you do it later? I’m in the middle of something,” Derek opens his textbook to make a point.
“But it’s important…”
“I said, later.”
The sudden firmness in Derek’s voice seems to surprise both Jennifer and Stiles. She humphs, and leaves as if nothing happened.
Stiles stares at him, his eyes wide as saucers. His mouth opens, closes, opens. He looks like a fish, Derek thinks, it’s cute.
“You know she wanted to ask you on a date, right?”
“Yeah, I figured,” Derek states as he plays with his pen. “I’m not interested.”
Stiles’ lips form a little “o” that Derek absolutely wants to kiss.
“Are you always this cold?”
“Am I cold with you?”
Stiles’ blush spreads to his ears, and he looks into Derek’s eyes with a smile.
“Honestly? I think you’re just a little shy.”
Stiles has whiskey eyes and a piercing stare, like he can see through Derek’s shell of hard skin and grumpiness. Like he sees Derek for what he is. If Derek didn’t fall in love with Stiles for the strength of his character back then, he would fall for his eyes right now.
“Stiles, I –”
The bell rings, but Stiles still looks at Derek expectantly.
“Yes?”
“Nothing.”
He can say it later. They have the time.
Derek gets ambushed by Jennifer after his first class of the afternoon.
“Can we talk now?”
This time, Jennifer is alone and the hallway is empty. Derek can’t help the sigh leaving his lips.
“What do you want?”
“Date me.”
Despite the clichés, a lot of omegas are really straightforward when their eyes are settled on someone, especially when it’s an alpha. Probably because alphas are easily swooned by omegas, particularly when they are not taken, and love or sex is involved.
Derek, though, looks at her unimpressed.
“No.”
“No? But we suit each other so much! You’re handsome, I’m pretty. You’re probably the top alpha of Beacon Hills High School, and I’m not so far from being the most wanted omega either.”
Derek’s patience is thinning. He pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Look – Jennifer, is it? I’m not interested in you. At all.”
“But why? I told you –”
“I don’t care about your high school food chain or whatever this is. I’m already in love with someone else, okay? End of discussion.”
Jennifer becomes all red in the face, but she has the decency not to insist further, for the moment at least. Instead, she raises her head haughtily and crosses her arms against her chest.
“You know that McCall and his omega best friend are already dating, right?”
The words, sharp and clear, feel like a cold shower for Derek.
“What? Since when?”
“Yesterday I think. Well, everybody knows since this morning. They keep cuddling with each other.”
But Derek barely hears her. He wants to throw up. He should have said something to Stiles before. Anything. At lunch, he should have asked Stiles. No, at lunch, it was already too late. And Stiles had looked so happy when he joined Derek. Was it because of McCall? How can McCall make Stiles smile so much? Why can’t he be the one to do it?
An unpleasant feeling settles in Derek’s stomach.
“Derek?”
“Stop it, please.”
“Hey, I’m not finished –”
Derek doesn’t know what he looks like, but when he turns to tell Jennifer off, she retracts her hand without a word. Shaking his head, he leaves in the opposite direction of where his next class is supposed to be.
He’s a fucking coward, that’s what he is. He’s been pining for Stiles for three years, and he never found the courage to utter a single word to him until a few months ago. He deserves it. He never stood a chance.
Unfortunately, he has to pass by Stiles’ and McCall’s lockers to get out of school. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do if he sees them being all over each other.
“Hale!”
Derek glances at the voice, and sees McCall giving him the finger. In his other hand, he holds a test paper with a red, circled A+ from the math class they just had.
Derek literally started this stupid rivalry to get Stiles’ attention, it feels now so fucking pointless to compete for who gets the best grade, who is the better at sports, or who got the latest pair of Nikes first.
The omega has a triumphant smirk, like he knows he won the one thing Derek truly wanted.
“I’m not in the mood, McCall.”
He imagines Stiles, next to McCall, holding hands, smiling, kissing, and it’s unbearable.
“Come on, just because you don’t have better means you can chicken out,” McCall says, and he still has that fucking smirk that Derek cannot stand, cannot bear to see right now.
And he growls. He can’t help it. His eyes flash a furious red, and he strides towards McCall. Maybe scaring him a little will make him stop speaking to Derek.
“I said, leave me alo–”
He can’t finish his sentence, because suddenly, a sharp pain spreads across his right cheek and makes his ears ring.
McCall fucking hit him.
He looks as astounded as Derek, holding his wrist against his chest, like it sprung on its own.
His brain is barely processing the fact that the dumbass just hit him. Because the pain on Derek’s face is nothing compared to the pain in his heart. His heart, broken into a thousand little pieces, because he couldn’t find the courage to be honest with Stiles.
“Derek! What the hell?”
Cora’s voice stirs him from his thoughts, and he realizes where he is. He notices for the first time the crowd that started swarming around them, and that it probably looks like he is going to jump on McCall any minute.
“What’s happening?!” Cora grits her teeth. She examines Derek’s face with worry. It’s probably a little swollen, given the strength McCall put in his fist – he didn’t think the omega had it in him.
He barely hears Scott’s distraught voice apologizing and explaining he didn’t do it on purpose, that it was just a reflex, because a strawberry scent that he knows very well assaults his nose.
“Derek?” Stiles emerges from the crowd, looking more unsure than angry.
This is the worst, the fucking worst ever. How is he supposed to face Stiles, now?
The worry is clear in Stiles’ eyes, but Derek doesn’t know if it’s directed towards McCall or himself. He can’t stand to see Stiles right now, and it’s probably the first time in his whole life.
He doesn’t know what to do. So he runs away.
Hidden in his bedsheets, Derek ponders all afternoon on what went wrong for his miserable life to become like this. Was it when he decided to entertain the whole school with a ridiculous rivalry to get his crush’s attention? Or was it when he decided he didn’t need to talk to Stiles and that he would be content with watching him from afar, even though the desire was consuming him from inside?
He doesn’t know how much time he spends in his bed feeling sorry about himself, but the sun has already set when he hears Cora open the front door.
“Hey, I was worried, you know? I called you.”
Derek is facing the wall, but the proximity of her voice indicates she has entered his room. She is uncharacteristically soft, which makes Derek feel even smaller under his covers.
He feels the mattress bend under Cora’s weight as she sits on the edge of his bed.
“I know you’re upset.”
“I kind of ridiculed myself in front of the whole school,” he croaks out. It’s the first time he’s speaking of the afternoon. “I would never hurt him. I was just in a bad mood and had a hard time controlling myself, but it was just a slip. I just wanted to tell him to leave me alone. Until he hit me, I mean.”
“I know you wouldn’t.” Cora ruffles his hair with a touch reminiscent of their mother’s. “But is your crush so big that your wolf slipped out? You’re usually the best at control.”
“Was my crush so obvious?” Again, it’s not like he particularly hid it. But it’s still weird to hear his sister talk about it.
“I’m your sister, of course I noticed. And McCall doesn’t deserve you if he doesn’t realize that you’re more of a catch than Allison.”
He turns to Cora with a frown.
“What?”
“I said you were –”
“No. You said that McCall is dating Allison?!”
What??
“Yes, but –”
“Not Stiles? Oh my god,” he throws back his covers in one motion. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”
He didn’t even think about the fact that Stiles, McCall and Allison were a trio of omega best friends. For his defense, he barely interacts with Allison since their families don’t like each other, and she had only joined their duo to make it a trio in high school. But, still.
His brain is running a mile an hour. He still has a chance with Stiles, but for that, he needs to be finally honest.
First, he goes to McCall’s house, and hopes that Stiles is not here.
It’s a bit weird, to be on McCall’s porch, and to wait patiently for him to open the door, after all that happened between them.
The door cracks open, and McCall appears in the hallway. The yellow light emanating from the living room behind him slightly blinds Derek in contrast with the darkness of the late evening, but he can see that McCall has his pj’s on and a startled look on his face.
“Hale?”
“Are you busy right now? I need to talk to you.”
McCall’s floppy hair and furrowed brows make him look like a lost puppy.
“Well, I don’t –”
“Scott, who is it?”
Derek can’t see her, but he can guess Melissa McCall is calling from the kitchen.
“It’s Derek, Dr. Hale’s son, you remember?” McCall shouts back as an answer, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.
“Oh, Derek!” Melissa comes out from the neighboring room, and finds her way in the space between her son and the door. “You’re so tall now! Come on, get in, you’re going to catch a cold.”
“But, Mom –”
“Scott, I didn’t raise you to be this rude,” she chastises, giving him a look that only mothers can master. Even Derek feels small in front of it.
McCall sighs deeply and reluctantly invites Derek inside with a gesture.
Derek thanks him with a nod and enters, but he stays in the entrance hallway.
“It’s going to be quick, don’t worry.”
“What do you want?” McCall crosses his arms against his chest. He’s an omega, but his large stature could make him pass for a beta, or even an alpha if he wanted.
“I came to apologize for scaring you this afternoon. And I also want a truce.”
McCall’s arms fall to his sides, his initial apprehension distorting into shock.
“What?”
“Let’s stop the stupid competition that’s always going on between us.”
“What? But why? I mean – I’m not against the idea, but – it’s so sudden!”
“Because I finally realized how stupid that was. I’m sorry I screamed at you that day in the cafeteria. It was childish of me.”
“What??” McCall says for the third time in two minutes, not believing his ears.
“So, should we stop?” Derek asks, holding out his hand for a handshake.
McCall shakes it with a grimace, like his ego is hurt that he was not the first one to come up with the idea of a truce.
“Are you doing an elaborate prank? Are we supposed to laugh right now?”
“Do I look like I want to laugh with you ?”
McCall stares at him, unimpressed, and holds his palms open in front of him.
“Okay, I get it. You’re right, it’s useless. Let’s stop it. Also, sorry for hitting you earlier. I was the one at fault.”
Derek shrugs and turns to leave.
“Don’t barge in an omega’s house like that again though!” Scott calls as Derek exits the McCalls’ driveway with his Camaro. “People will get ideas, and just so you know, I have a girlfriend!”
“Thank god, I know,” Derek answers with a laugh.
5. Stiles
The morning after, as Derek and Cora exit the school parking lot, Cora tugs the hem of his sleeve.
“Hey, Derek, you okay?”
She still seems worried by his behavior from yesterday, and Derek doesn’t blame her. Learning that McCall and Stiles weren’t dating did a 180° on his mood and feelings.
“Oh, huh. Yes. Sorry for freaking out yesterday. There has been a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding. Because you thought McCall was dating Stilinski instead of Allison.”
“Well – yes?” It sounds more like a question than an answer.
“I don’t understand. So, you think you have a chance with McCall if it’s Allison, but not if it’s Stilinski?”
“What are you talking about? A chance with McCall?” Derek understands less and less. Or rather, he’s more and more scared to understand what she means. Now that he thinks about it, she did say weird things yesterday, about McCall not deserving him
“Don’t you have a crush on McCall?”
Derek chokes on his own saliva, barely avoiding a fit of cough. He can’t believe his own ears.
“What the fuck? No! Oh my god, no, McCall ?! That’s so gross, what –”
Derek’s rant is cut when someone pokes him on the shoulder. Someone being Stiles – he could recognize this scent anywhere.
He had sworn himself he would tell Stiles his feelings as soon as possible, but a glance at his sister looking at him with comically round eyes makes him feel like right now right now is a bit precocious.
“Thank you for apologizing to Scott, yesterday. I mean, he was more in the wrong than you, since he hit you and even though you were kind of scary you didn't actually touch him, but I’m impressed you were the one to take the first step and apologize. And thank you for making that truce with him too. The rivalry was getting kind of boring," Stiles says with a laugh. Derek doesn’t know if the omega even breathed once saying all that.
"Oh, hm. Yes. I mean, it’s okay. I mean, you’re welcome, it was nothing. Easy. Uh. Yeah."
Derek goes silent, his mouth closed into a thin line and panic written in his eyes. What’s happening?? Is it the stress of knowing he has to confess soon that makes him turn back into his in-front-of-Stiles caveman state?
Stiles cocks his head to the side with a smile, seeming confused but still amused, before bidding them goodbye and leaving.
Derek facepalms himself, before hearing a giggle next to him. Cora. He forgot she was here.
“Don’t. say. anything,” he articulates behind his teeth.
“Oh my god!” Cora laughs. “ Oh my god . So it was Stilinski? I was sure it was McCall!”
Derek feels himself blush from neck to ears.
“I can’t believe you thought it was McCall. That’s gross.”
“Derek. Half of the school thinks you’re secretly in love with McCall.” Cora starts to walk in the direction of the school, a skip in her steps. Derek follows her hurriedly. “You keep challenging him even though he is an omega, everyone thinks it’s because you want to get his attention.”
“ Excuse me ??”
Well, it’s not that far-fetched, because Derek really did that to get an omega’s attention. It just wasn’t Scott.
“I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if Stilinski thinks you want to bone his best friend.”
Derek’s heart falls on the ground hearing this. Suddenly, everything makes sense. Why Stiles gave so many mixed signals, seeming interested at times, and so distant at others. Derek is such an idiot.
Derek waits for Stiles after class, but it’s only one hour after the last period that the omega comes out of the building and walks to his car, probably because of a detention.
Thankfully, the parking lot is empty, so Stiles hears him clearly when he shouts his name. The omega perks up, noticing Derek with a surprised expression on his face, and he looks so adorable Derek wants to swallow him whole.
For the moment, he only runs up to him.
“I’m just –” he doesn’t know where to begin. I’ve been trying to get close to you all this time? I like you so fucking much it keeps me awake at night? “I don’t have a crush on Scott,” he blurts out.
Stiles blinks twice.
“Oh, uh. Okay?”
Fuck. What if Derek totally misunderstood everything due to the shock?
“I don't – Fuck. Forget it.”
Derek turns and starts heading to his Camaro, not willing to embarrass himself further. But before he can leave, Stiles catches his wrist. The touch sends a shiver through his entire body.
“Wait!” Stiles says, and then.
He kisses Derek on the corner of the mouth.
When he takes a step back, Stiles has the biggest smile Derek has ever seen on him. And he watches Stiles a lot.
Unable to wait anymore, he grabs Stiles’ hips and leans in to kiss Stiles for real. He feels the omega melt under his touch, and it’s so exhilarating Derek is not sure he ever wants to stop. But he has to, because Stiles is starting to pant under his lips, and Derek is becoming dangerously aroused in the middle of the school parking lot.
He finally pulls back, but not before biting Stiles’ lower lip one last time.
“Oh my god, you like me,” Stiles croaks after regaining his senses.
Derek huffs a laugh.
"I... I thought it was obvious, but apparently the whole school thinks I want to bone McCall, according to my sister. Which, I don't, obviously."
"It was not obvious! You were having a homoerotic rivalry with Scott!"
Derek rolls his eyes, forcing himself not to smile at Stiles’ antics. It obviously doesn’t work, because soon after, Stiles says:
"This is no laughing matter! I was pining so hard and I thought you liked my best friend! Can you imagine how awful it was? I have liked you since freshman year, Derek. Freshman year!"
"I didn't start it on purpose! I was angry at McCall because he made me spill my lunch in front of you, and I felt ridiculed," Derek grumbles. "And then I realized that you finally noticed me because of that, and I'm an idiot, so I kept doing it. And it worked, I mean, at least after that I had a reason to get near you."
Stiles is gaping at him now.
"You're telling me we could have been kissing all this time?! I liked you even before you spilled your lunch, you dumbass."
"I've liked you since the end of middle school, when you kicked Aiden in the balls for harassing McCall."
"Okay. First of all, it's not a competition. And second, god, you're so embarrassing. You liked me even though I looked like the progeny of E.T. and a gremlin."
"Shut up. I thought you were cute," Derek grunts.
Stiles seems to suddenly feel shy, and gets back in Derek’s arms to smile against the crook of his neck. Shit. It’s becoming harder and harder to control himself. Derek can sense his breath hitch.
"You wanna head home with me?" He asks after a beat of silence. "I think there's a project we have to finish together."
"Oh. Right," Stiles squeaks. “We can go to my house if you want.”
Derek almost drops his car keys on the ground. Yesterday, Scott was right – you usually don’t barge in an omega’s house unannounced. The omega should invite you. And an omega inviting you is kind of a big deal.
“Of course I want to, but are you sure?”
Stiles nods fervently.
+1
“My dad’s not home yet,” Stiles says as he opens the door.
Derek feels nervous. In Stiles’ house, the omega’s scent is omnipresent. There’s also a faint smell of an alpha, probably Stiles’ father.
Stiles leads him upstairs, where the strawberry scent is growing stronger and stronger.
His room is big and messy, covered in pictures and posters. There’s an open laptop on the desk, and various clothes on the chair. Derek almost misses it among all the stuff littering the room, but on top of the pile of clothes, there’s an old, gray sweatshirt.
It’s the Batman sweatshirt.
“Wait,” Derek points to the piece of clothes. “So you still had it? You never wore it again after I gave it back.”
Stiles grabs it with a speed and strength Derek didn’t know the omega had. He hides it in his closet with a slight blush.
“So it really was you who put it in my locker!”
“Yes! But I thought you would be suspicious if I were the one to give it back to you, like, I don’t really see eye to eye with your best friend if you noticed. Not that I did anything with it, of course.”
“It’s even more suspicious to just put it in my locker!”
Well, he’s not wrong, Derek thinks.
“So you didn’t wear it because you thought it was suspicious?” Derek just replies, a little disappointed.
“Yes, well – partly.”
“Partly?”
Stiles hides his mouth with his hand, embarrassed.
“I had a hunch it was your doing. It kind of smelled like you. But I had no way of being sure.”
“So thinking it was from me prevented you from wearing it?”
“Not the way you think!” Stiles protests. “I just… didn’t want your scent to wear off, so I left it here.”
Derek is dumbfounded. He looks at Stiles’ red cheeks, and he can feel his own heating too.
“You don't know how torn I was between not being sure who it was coming from, and what seemed to be your lingering scent! I had to go to a lot of trouble not to use it during my heat last month, but I think your scent wore off now, anyway.”
Derek steps towards Stiles and closes the space between them. He can feel his heart beat loudly in his eardrums, or maybe it’s Stiles’. He’s not sure.
He leans in to steal a kiss, and when he does, Stiles loses his balance and they fall into his bed together. Derek digs his palms in the mattress as he pushes himself up.
“Oh, sorry,” he says, but Stiles doesn’t answer back. He just circles Derek’s neck in his arms when the alpha tries to leave.
It only takes this much for Derek to dive back into the kiss. It’s messy, a release of pent-up feelings he has been harboring for three years now.
Stiles is pliant under his touch, and his lips are soft against Derek’s. His hands frantically wander down Derek’s back, like he can’t get enough of his touch. Derek is the same.
When he releases his lips, Stiles is a panting, blushing mess. Derek’s entire body shivers, and he feels his lower body heat up. He starts peppering the omega’s neck with light kisses, before leaving a hickey next to his collarbone.
“Derek!” Stiles hisses. “How am I supposed to hide that?”
“You’re not supposed to hide it,” Derek easily answers, like it’s obvious. He nuzzles his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck. “I’m showing off you’re mine.”
Stiles becomes a deeper shade of red, if this is possible.
“You’re so…!” He doesn’t finish his sentence, words lost in his throat at the alpha’s audacity.
Instead, he takes Derek’s face into his hands and squeezes it. Derek grimaces at the sting it induces, his cheek still a bit swollen due to Scott’s punch.
“Ouch, sorry, did I hurt you?” Stiles asks, stroking Derek's cheeks softly, as if asking for forgiveness.
“It’s okay. I think I need a kiss, though.”
Stiles grins, and leans in to answer his prayers, but at the same time, the entrance door opens.
“Stiles! I’m home!”
“Oh my god oh my god,” Stiles pushes Derek back and gets up, much to the alpha’s chagrin. “It’s my dad. I thought he would come back later.”
He grabs his bag from the floor and takes out a few notebooks that he throws on the desk.
“Quick, sit and pretend to study!”
Derek does as demanded, and retrieves his physics textbook from his backpack. As he opens it, Stiles’ dad knocks on the door.
“Stiles? Who’s with you?”
Stiles’ lips turn into a thin line and he opens the door hesitantly.
“Hi dad, it’s just Derek. We’re studying for a group project.”
John Stilinski gets a glimpse of the alpha through the barely ajar door, and frowns.
“Just Derek? Who’s Derek?”
“You know, dad, Dr. Hale’s son.”
Derek gets up and puts a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. Surprised, the omega takes a step away from the door, and Derek opens it wider.
“Hi Mr. Stilinski, nice to meet you,” Derek says, holding out his hand. John eyes him suspiciously, like he knows what they have been doing five minutes ago – it’s not difficult, given Stiles’ flushed skin and Derek’s fiery look. He shakes it nonetheless.
“What are your intentions with my son?”
“Oh my god, dad.”
“Make him happy.”
“Derek!”
At this point, Stiles is blushing furiously. He takes his father by the shoulders and leads him out of the doorway.
“Leave the door open!” John says as he leaves downstairs, but not before glancing one last time like he’s scared Stiles is going to jump on Derek as soon as his back is turned.
When his father is out of sight, Stiles turns to Derek and slightly hits him on the arm with a laugh.
“Make him happy ? I didn't know you were so cheesy.”
Derek frowns. “I was serious. That’s what I want to do.”
“Oh my god, stop it!” Stiles cries, and forces Derek to sit on the floor, where the alpha left his textbook.
Derek watches him, secretly pleased to provoke this kind of reaction. It’s funny. He holds a hand out to Stiles.
“Come sit down with me.”
Stiles studies Derek for a few seconds, eyebrows raised, like he can’t believe Derek has the nerve to ask this after embarrassing him enough for the rest of his life. Then, he sighs.
“Well, with that open door, say goodbye to kisses,” he says dejectedly, plopping down on the floor next to Derek.
Derek removes his sweatshirt, revealing a white t-shirt under. He hands the sweatshirt to Stiles.
“Take it.”
“What?”
“If the scent wore off on the other sweatshirt.”
Stiles takes the clothes from Derek’s hands and puts his face against it.
“Thanks.” His voice is muffled. Derek can see the red tips of his ears.
He chuckles.
“You enjoy this, do you?” Stiles says as he faces Derek, one of his cheeks still nested in the sweatshirt. But there’s no reproach in his tone.
Derek doesn’t say anything. His smile speaks for him.
“Why is Stilinski wearing your sweatshirt?” Erica sits down in front of him in the cafeteria with the energy of a tornado, stopping him mid-bite.
“Is he, now?” Derek asks, perking up and setting his sandwich aside. He really wants to see Stiles in his sweatshirt. Just thinking about it makes him feel weird things in his lower stomach.
“Well, it’s not like I know your wardrobe by heart, but it sure smells like you.” Erica takes some french fries from his lunch tray, then stops abruptly. “Wait – did he… steal it or something?”
Derek lifts an eyebrow. “I gave it to him.”
“Sorry, what?”
Derek doesn’t even repeat, knowing she’s just being dramatic.
“Close your mouth, Erica. I can see everything.”
“But – What about McCall?” Erica slams her hands on the table.
“Don’t tell me you also thought I had a crush on McCall?”
“Yes??”
“Aren’t you supposed to be my best friend?”
“I can’t believe it,” Erica ignores Derek’s question, takes him by the shoulders and shakes him. “When did you start dating Stilinski? Derek – the whole school thinks you’re in love with Scott McCall.”
“I’ve been made aware, yes,” Derek says, unfazed.
“So what are you going to do about it?”
“I couldn’t care less about who people think I like. I’m dating Stiles, and that’s all they need to know.”
As if on cue, Stiles approaches their table with a blinding smile. Indeed, he’s wearing Derek’s sweatshirt, and their mixed scents screams Look at me! I’m Derek Hale’s omega! At the sight, the alpha actually wants to undress him.
He notices mournfully, however, that the hickey he left yesterday has been messily concealed with some foundation. He doesn’t know where Stiles found it, though.
“Hi,” Derek says, smiling back.
“Hi, you.”
Stiles sits down next to Derek, but looks a little shy under Erica’s piercing gaze.
“You wore it as soon as you could.”
“Well, I wanted everyone to know that I’m your boyfriend now,” Stiles grins.
“There were other ways for people to learn, you know?”
“Like what?”
Derek takes Stiles’ nape in his hand and kisses him passionately in the middle of the cafeteria.
Far away, he can hear Erica mock-barfing and the metallic sound of a few trays falling on the ground.