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Derek loves his job. He loves waking up early in the morning before the sun rises, walking to his car in the cold morning with the frost crunching beneath his boots. He loves opening up the coffee shop, how it’s quiet and still when it’s empty. He loves the smell of fresh coffee as it brews and the pastries baking in the oven. He loves Saturday mornings because people don’t start crowding in until around 9, near the end of his shift.
Derek is rearranging the display of prebagged coffee and mugs for sale when the door opens. He glances over at the door and feels his face flush.
It’s Stiles Stilinski, looking sleepy with disheveled hair and heavy eyes. He sees Derek and gives him a sleepy smile. Derek turns to rush behind the counter, pushing his glasses up his nose as he goes.
“Hey,” Stiles greets him with a yawn as he rubs his eyes. He’s wearing a worn pair of maroon BHHS sweatpants and a grey lacrosse sweatshirt with maroon writing. “Give me something with a lot of caffeine. I don’t care what. Because, get this now, Finstock wants us to start practicing every Saturday at the ass crack of dawn. I didn’t even know five thirty a.m. existed on a Saturday.”
Derek just stares at Stiles. “What kind of coffee would you like?”
Stiles stops his flailing and rambling to look at Derek. “Huh? Dude, it is way too early for trick questions.”
“How is that a trick question?” Derek asks. “This is a coffee shop. I asked you what kind of coffee you’d like.”
Stiles whines and drops his head to the counter. “Coffee, caffeine, sustenance, please Derek.”
“You – you know my name?” Derek stammers.
Stiles lifts his head and looks at Derek in confusion. “Um, yeah? Derek Hale, captain of the basketball team.”
“Oh.” Derek looks down at the counter and busies his hands by grabbing a cardboard coffee mug.
“And dude, we have AP European history together.” Derek looks up shyly , over the rim of his glasses. Stiles is looking at him like he’s crazy. “The surprising part would be if you knew my name because, let’s face it, I’m not – “
“Stiles,” Derek says quickly.
“So you do know my name. Huh.” Stiles drops his head back to the counter. “Strongest coffee you have, with lots of sugar, cream, and caramel flavoring.”
“That doesn’t sound like something you should drink before you go to practice,” Derek says.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Derek frowns and makes Stiles’ coffee. When Derek hands him the mug a few minutes later, Stiles takes a sip, and then immediately starts yelling. “Fuck, fuck, hot, hot!” Derek snickers, and Stiles glares at him. He takes off the lid and blows on it, then takes another sip. “Ah, nectar of the gods. Thanks, Derek.” Stiles drops a dollar in the tip jar then leaves the coffee shop.
Derek stands there for half an hour afterwards, feeling like an idiot.
*
Lacrosse players and basketball players don’t really intermingle at school. There’s a big rivalry between some of the basketball players and some of the lacrosse players, and at the source of this rivalry is, of course, a girl.
Lydia Martin, to be exact. Derek tries to stay away from the drama, but it’s difficult when one of his best friends and his sister is part of the drama. Lydia used to date Jackson from the lacrosse team. They were those typical dysfunctional high school sweethearts, the most popular girl and boy together because they were rich, attractive, and the tops of the totem pole. The end of junior year, Lydia and Jackson broke up, and Lydia started dating Aiden from the basketball team. Derek isn’t sure, but he thinks that was just a bunch of hormones and a reason to piss Jackson off.
Over the summer, Lydia broke up with Aiden, and since she is best friends with Laura, she spent most of her time at the Hale house. Derek had to listen to the two of them breakdown the pros and cons of each boy more often than he was comfortable with. And they dragged him into conversations against his will more times than he cares to admit. His answer was always the same.
“Parrish.”
Laura always frowned at him, while Lydia gave him a cool, assessing stare. “You can’t always vote for your best friend, Derek.”
“I kinda think that’s the point of best friends.”
Since Parrish was one of Derek’s best friends, he also spent a lot of time at the Hale household. By the end of the summer, Lydia and Parrish were together and happy. It pissed off Jackson, it pissed off Aiden, and Lydia still walked around the school like she owned it. Because she does. No one messes with Lydia Martin and Laura Hale.
Derek doesn’t like girls, but if he did, he still doesn’t think he’d understand the big deal about Lydia. Sure, she’s pretty, smart, and has nice breasts (if you were into that kind of thing), and red heads are awesome, but there are a lot of pretty girls at school. Like Allison Argent, Erica Reyes, Kira Yukimura, Malia Tate, Heather Johnson, and a lot of others.
Derek tries to stay away from the drama as much as he can, but it’s a bigger part of his life than he likes. Which is why he’s sitting at the designated basketball table during lunch, surreptitiously glancing at Stiles at his designated table a few rows down, sitting with the lacrosse players.
“Go talk to him,” Boyd says quietly beside Derek. Derek opens a bag of chips awkwardly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Boyd sighs. “How long are you going to pine after Stilinski before you say something?”
Derek watches Stiles flailing his arms around as he talks to Scott and Isaac, almost knocking down his chocolate milk in the process. “I don’t like him.”
“Sure you don’t,” Erica says from Boyd’s other side. “Your total lack of liking him is the reason I know more about Stiles Stilinski than I ever wanted to.”
“Be quiet!” Derek exclaims, glancing around the table.
“See?” Erica grins. “Busted.”
“You forget we have to go to lacrosse games, too,” Boyd points out.
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.”
“Seriously, guys?” Derek glares at them.
“Are you two torturing Derek again?” Parrish asks with an easy, wide smile as he drops into the seat next to Derek.
“Us?” Erica blinks innocently. “We’d never.”
Parrish snorts and opens up a can of Mountain Dew. “You’re worse than Boyd. I think it’s your mission to make Derek’s life hell. Yours and Laura’s.”
“Sup, punks?” Cora sets her tray on the table across from Derek. “Derek, it’s too early in the day to be glaring that hard.”
“That’s what I thought,” Parrish said. “I blamed Erica.”
“Everyone always blames Erica,” Cora says, rolling her eyes. “You forget that’s Derek’s natural face. He picked out Serial Killer when choosing faces in the womb.”
“I hate each of you,” Derek says as he grabs his food and stands from the table.
“Derek, wait, come back!” Erica calls, Cora and Parrish echoing her. He doesn’t have to sit there and take that from his friends. His friends are lame and assholes. And in addition to that, he’ll never understand how fate saddled him with a twin sister and a sister only a year behind him in school whose only goals were to torture him. Talk about a nightmare.
Derek takes his food out into the courtyard despite the cold, January air. There’s snow on the ground, and he kicks at some as he makes his way over to a table.
“A little cold out here, isn’t it?” someone says a few minutes later. Derek looks up, and does a double take when he sees Stiles standing at his table. He adjusts the backpack on his shoulder, his lacrosse stick attached to it. He’s wearing a t-shirt, plaid shirt, and hoodie, no coat but a red beanie pulled over his head.
“You’re not wearing a coat,” Derek states.
Stiles rolls his eyes. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.” He shifts from one leg to the other, obviously cold. “Why are you eating out here?”
“Ugh,” Derek glances at the door to the cafeteria. “My friends suck.”
Stiles laughs, and Derek smiles to himself. He made Stiles laugh. He’s not sure how, but he’s taking it.
“Don’t get frostbite,” Stiles says as he heads across the courtyard towards the door.
Derek smiles as he takes a bite of his sandwich.
*
Derek works Saturday mornings, Thursday mornings before school, and Tuesday nights at the coffee shop. He’s at work on Tuesday when Stiles comes into the shop with half the lacrosse team. Derek speaks to Stiles, Isaac, and Scott when they order, but when Jackson comes up to the counter, he just sneers at Derek.
“Why’d you drag me to this dump? They let any kind of trash work here,” Jackson says. “You know, I don’t think I want coffee from basketball scum.” Derek glares and Jackson smirks. “I think I hit a nerve. What is it, Hale? Did I hit a nerve, huh?” Jackson leans forward and lowers his voice. “It’s because you know you’re trash.”
Derek rushes around the counter and comes up to Jackson, chest to chest. The guys are shouting around them, but he can’t hear anything above the whooshing in his ears. He’s seething, and Jackson has the audacity to laugh.
“Fuck you, Jackson,” Derek spits out. He moves closer, and Jackson’s face twists into a mask of fury, his teeth bared and expression murderous. Someone grabs Derek’s arms to stop him from doing anything, and he sees Danny grab Jackson.
“He’s not worth it,” Isaac says in Derek’s ear.
“Jackson, stop,” Danny demands.
“Get off me!” Jackson yells, shrugging out of Danny’s grasp. He advances towards Derek, and Derek pulls against Isaac’s iron grip. Jackson points his finger in Derek’s face. “You better watch it, Hale. I will end you.” Then, Jackson turns and storms out of the store.
Danny shoots him an apologetic look and follows, and Isaac finally loosens his grip on Derek’s arms.
“Sorry about that,” Scott says, looking genuinely upset. “Jackson is such a douche.”
“That’s the understatement of the century,” Stiles adds. Derek glances over at him, feeling a surge of affection for him. The fact that Stiles doesn’t like Jackson makes Derek like him even more.
“I knew we shouldn’t have come here,” Isaac says, shaking his head. “He hates everyone on the basketball team, especially anyone directly connected to Lydia.”
“I don’t have anything to do with Lydia,” Derek snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Are you kidding me?” Stiles rolls his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, you have nothing to do with Lydia, except for your twin sister being best friends with her and your best friend dating her, yeah, nothing at all.” Derek glares at him, and Stiles holds his hands up. “Look, I don’t care. I’m just pointing out the obvious. It’s all Jackson sees when he sees you.”
Derek stomps back around the counter and glares at the three lacrosse players. “Well, why are you still here?”
“Um,” Scott stammers, glancing at the door.
“Duh,” Stiles says. “We ordered and paid for coffee?”
Derek huffs and makes their coffee, glaring at them until they leave the shop.
*
Thursday morning, Derek and his co-worker are trying desperately to serve the morning rush. Derek has to leave for school soon, and he’s not sure the rush is going to die down by the time his relief shows up to take over.
“Dude,” Stiles says when he finally gets to the counter, “what is with this line today?”
Derek sighs. He’s too busy to get distracted by Stiles. “What can I get you?”
“Okay, so no to the talking, got it.” Stiles pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, and Derek kind of wants to die. Something so small shouldn’t be so sexy, but Derek wants to push Stiles up against the counter and kiss him senseless. “Hazelnut latte.”
Derek nods and rings in the order. When the line gets to the end, Stiles is still waiting for his coffee. He glances over at Derek and says, “Did you drive here this morning?”
“No, my dad dropped me off. Laura’s supposed to come pick me up on her way to school.”
“Do you want a ride?” Stiles asks.
“From you?”
Stiles looks at him like he’s stupid. “No, from the dude waiting for his espresso. Yes, from me!”
“Um…” Derek glances at the clock. If he texts Laura now, he’ll catch her before she gets here. Stiles is watching him expectantly, and Derek decides to go for it. It’s just a ride, right? “Yeah, okay.”
Stiles smiles at him, and Derek feels his pulse quicken. “Awesome. I’m just gonna sit over here.”
“I’ll be off in like ten minutes.”
“Okay.” Derek takes out his phone while Stiles starts walking away. He turns around though and says, “Any chance you can score me free coffee?” Derek gives him a flat look, and Stiles shrugs. “Worth a try.”
Derek: Don’t come by the shop. Got a ride to school.
Laura: From who?
Derek: Someone
Laura: I’ll find out. You know I will.
Derek: Stiles
Laura: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GIVE ME ALL THE DETAILSDerek: It’s just a ride
Laura: A ride of LOVE.
Laura: Lydia says don’t screw it up
Derek: Tell Lydia to keep her mouth shut. This is embarrassing enough
Laura: Lydia says she’s offended that you think she thinks you’re worth gossip
As soon as the next shift barista clocks in, Derek clocks out. He grabs the caramel latte he’d made a few minutes ago, grabs his book bag from the floor, and meets Stiles at the table near the door.
Stiles is scrolling through his phone and doesn’t notice Derek approach, so Derek says, “I’m done.”
“Oh,” Stiles exclaims, looking up at him. “Awesome.”
When Stiles stands, Derek shoves the cup towards him. “Here.”
Stiles glances at it in confusion, before his face breaks into a wide grin. “Is this a free coffee?”
Derek glances around. “Ssh. Not so loud.”
“You brought me contraband coffee?” Stiles giggles delightedly as he takes a sip. “And caramel? Oh my god, I’m taking you to school every day.”
Derek’s cheeks heat, so he pushes through the door and towards Stiles’ Jeep.
Derek’s never been inside Stiles’ Jeep, so he tries to surreptitiously look around. There are empty soda bottles and candy wrappers on the floor, various lacrosse gear and clothes in the back, along with errant school books. Stiles starts fiddling with the heat dials as soon as they’re inside.
“Sorry, the heat’s broken,” he says apologetically. “As is the radio. I only get one station, which is some adult contemporary bullshit, but it beats nothing at all.”
Derek scowls at the radio. “Celine Dion beats silence?”
“Dude, don’t hate on Celine Dion. Woman has some pipes. Power of Love, that’s my jam. And that song from Titanic.”
“Are you serious?” Derek asks.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures, Derek.”
Derek rolls his eyes, but he chuckles anyway. He’s glad he wore his heavy coat today since the Jeep is freezing. He shoves his hands beneath his legs for warmth.
“So,” Stiles starts awkwardly, “I think you’re my new hero for standing up to Jackson. That was, like, epic.”
“What?” Derek squawks, surprised.
“Jackson is a terror. He’s made my and Scott’s lives miserable since the first grade.”
“I thought you were friends with him.”
“Are you blind and stupid?” Stiles retorts. “He calls me left testicle, unless I’m standing on Scott’s right, and then I’m right testicle. Point is, I hate that guy.”
“This whole thing is stupid,” Derek says. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. My parents would have killed me if I’d have gotten into a fight. And I could have lost my job.” Derek runs a hand through his hair and readjusts his glasses. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“That Jackson is an asshole who needs to be punched a good time or two,” Stiles suggests. “A good punch would do wonders for him, I think.”
“I don’t want to fight him.”
“I know,” Stiles says. “Because you’re a good guy.”
Derek doesn’t respond, but he feels warm all over.
“Just for the record though,” Stiles says, “If you and Jackson came to blows, my money’d be on you.”
*
Derek is taking notes in European history when he feels something softly hit the back of his head and bounce off. He looks around and sees Stiles looking at him expectantly. He points down, and Derek looks at the floor and sees a balled up piece of paper nearby. He grabs it, glances at the teacher who is talking about the War of the Roses, and straightens the paper.
It’s a picture of Stiles holding a lacrosse stick and Derek a basketball – the only reason Derek knows it’s them is because of their jersey numbers on the stick figures, plus Stiles drew Derek with glasses and angry eyebrows – running towards a combined lacrosse net and basketball goal with Jackson tied to it. Derek bursts out a surprised bark of laughter, causing the teacher and some of the class to look at him.
The teacher asks Derek a question about what she just said, and Derek manages to stammer out the correct answer. The teacher gives him a disapproving look, but returns to her lecture. Derek twists in his seat and finds Stiles laughing at him.
Derek glares at Stiles, but when he turns around, he smiles and slips the drawing in his notebook.
*
Saturday morning around five thirty, Stiles comes into the coffee shop, half-asleep like last week. He looks just as cute as he did before, with sleep-mussed hair and soft sweats, and Derek wants to curl around him and cuddle.
And that thought disturbs him immensely.
“Finstock is evil,” Stiles groans as he props his elbows on the counter and his chin in his hands. “Evil evil evil. I don’t know why we need to practice so early. Something about endurance, and commitment, and there was a speech from a Stallone movie in there I think, but I can’t be sure. I think I fell asleep on Scott’s shoulder and drooled on him. Isaac took a picture and posted it to Instagram because he’s evil, too.”
Derek just stares at Stiles, because what? That was way too much information spoken in slurred, half-awake speech this early.
“Um, what kind of coffee do you want?”
Stiles opens his eyes, and Derek’s not entirely sure he wasn’t just dozing off. “Huh? Oh, coffee. Strong coffee. With lots of sugar and cream. How do you not know this by now?”
Stiles mumbles about how much he hates lacrosse, Finstock, and the world while Derek makes his coffee. When Derek hands him the cup, Stiles inhales. “Almond, how did you know I loved it so much?”
“I didn’t.”
Stiles opens his eyes and looks at Derek. “You’re odd.”
“Excuse me?” Derek bristles, feeling the sting of rejection.
Stiles reaches across the counter and pokes Derek’s face. “No. None of that. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…” Stiles shakes his head. “Nevermind. I’m half-asleep.”
Derek frowns as Stiles take a sip of his coffee. Stiles is watching him closely, and Derek doesn’t quite know what’s going on. He’s just confused and wants to go back to his quiet coffee shop with the soothing music playing through the speakers. “You have nice eyes,” Stiles blurts. “You can’t really see them because of the glasses, but nice eyes.”
“Um,” Derek says, his face burning. “Thanks?”
Stiles shakes his head and jumps up and down a few times. “Damn, I need to wake up. I’m gonna get my ass kicked.” He takes a long gulp from the cup and heads for the door. “See you later, Derek.”
Derek watches him, thinking maybe Stiles is the odd one instead of him.
*
Next Saturday night, Parrish throws a party. He invites the basketball team, a lot of Lydia’s friends, and some friends of the people on the basketball team. Danny from lacrosse is there because he’s dating Ethan from the basketball team, and Isaac is there because he’s good friends with Boyd and Erica. But other than that, no one from lacrosse is there, so Derek hopes for a relatively drama-free party.
He’s standing outside in Parrish’s back yard, talking to a few other people, when he hears, “Psst.” He glances behind him, but doesn’t see anyone, so he turns back to the conversation. “Psst. Near the plant.”
Derek turns around and walks towards the talking plant. Squatting behind the plant, out of sight, are Stiles and Scott. “What in the hell are you two doing?” Derek whisper-yells.
“We came to warn you,” Stiles says.
“Yeah, man, Jackson’s got something planned,” Scott continues. “We don’t know what. We heard him planning with Greenberg and Dahler. Liam told me he tried to get him to help, but he’s grounded this weekend and couldn’t.”
“Why would Jackson want to do something to the party?” Derek asks.
“Because Jackson is a douche,” Stiles says, huffing in frustration. “I thought we’d already been over this.”
“Let me go tell Parrish,” Derek says with a sigh. “And for fuck’s sake, come out from behind the plant. You two look like idiots.”
“You try sneaking into a rival team’s party,” Stiles says, peeking out from behind the cement pot. “It’s not easy.”
Derek rolls his eyes as he walks onto the porch and inside the house. He finds Parrish standing with his arm around Lydia, talking to Laura and her boyfriend. “Parrish,” Derek interrupts them. “Jackson’s apparently going to crash the party and try to do something.”
“What?” Parrish asks.
“Are you serious?” Lydia scowls and pulls out her phone. “This has gotten out of control! I am not some prize to be fought over and won! I swear when I get through with him – “
“You can wait till he gets here,” Laura suggests. “Confront him then.”
Lydia considers it, then pockets her phone. “Fine. This is going to end, once and for all. Otherwise, I’m writing off all high school guys and staying single until this summer, and then start dating college guys.”
“Hey!” Parrish exclaims. “What did I do?”
Lydia frowns at him. “Just, don’t engage with him. This has gone on long enough.”
“So, what should I do?”
Laura says, “Send Ethan, Danny, and Theo after him. Let them meet him when he tries to crash the party. Maybe Danny can talk some sense into him, and if not,” Laura shrugs, “maybe Theo and Ethan can kick his ass.”
“Hey,” Parrish protests, “I do not want the cops being called to my party.”
Laura smiles. “Theo and Ethan can take care of it.”
Derek shakes his head, finds Boyd, and tells him what’s going on. Then he finds Stiles and Scott by the keg. With a burst of unusual bravado, Derek approaches Stiles. “Hey,” he says, “Wanna get out of here before everything goes down?”
Stiles looks around wildly. “Are you talking to me?” Derek sighs heavily and fixes him with an annoyed expression. Stiles shares a look with Scott. “You good with me bailing?”
Scott eyes Derek with mistrust, but says, “Yeah, sure. Allison wants me to come over anyway. I’ll call her to pick me up,”
“Yeah, cool.”
Scott glances at Derek again and says, “Call me if you need anything.”
“Sure thing, buddy.” Stiles claps Scott on the shoulder, squeezes, and then follows Derek around the house. “So, you just gonna bail on your best friend when he’s being attacked by the enemy?”
“This whole fight is stupid,” Derek says as he walks towards the street. “Lydia is just a girl. I like her, don’t get me wrong, but she’s not worth all of this.”
“Dude, don’t talk about Lydia,” Stiles replies. “I understand where they’re coming from.”
Derek groans. “Oh god, not you, too!”
“Me?” Stiles exclaims. “Oh no. I was in love with Lydia from like third grade to tenth grade. Then, after realizing she would never see me as anything more than a speck of dust on the bottom of her Prada stilettos, I moved on. Plus,” Stiles shrugged and shoved his hands into his khakis, “I kinda found myself more into guys than girls.”
“You like guys?” Derek asks, surprised.
“Please, don’t tell me you’re gonna get all weird and go all ‘no homo!’ on me.”
Derek stops and Stiles bumps into him. He turns to Stiles and says, “I’m gay. I thought you knew.”
Stiles sputters and flails around a bit. “Wait, what? How did I not know this? Are you sure?”
Derek’s eyebrows draw together, and he looks at Stiles likes he’s stupid. “Yeah, pretty sure. Was pretty sure back in middle school when I kept getting awkward boners in the locker room and wasn’t sure why until I ended up looking at naked pictures of guys on the internet and got more awkward boners. I was pretty sure I understood why after that.”
Stiles’ mouth hangs open. He starts to say something a few times, but stops. Derek rolls his eyes and keeps walking. “You have to drive. I rode here with Laura and she has the keys to our car. You didn’t drink any beer, did you?”
“No, Scott couldn’t figure out how to work the keg.” They climb into the Jeep, and Stiles stares at Derek. “How did I not know this about you?”
Derek shrugs. “I don’t hide it, but I don’t exactly go around with a big ‘I’M GAY’ sign either. I figure it’s nobody’s business.”
“You haven’t had a boyfriend at school,” Stiles says. “I’d have heard about that.”
“No,” Derek shakes his head. “I dated a guy named Brett from another school. And a guy named Mason I know from basketball camp. That’s it.”
“Oh.” Stiles fiddles with his keys for a few moments before Derek decides to take a chance. He puts his hand on Stiles’ arm, and when Stiles turns to him, he leans close and kisses him. The kiss is brief and awkward, and when Derek pulls away, he feels like an idiot.
“I-I’m sorry,” Derek says. “I shouldn’t have, but you told me you liked my eyes and you took me to school and snuck into the party and you like guys and – I’m sorry.”
Stiles shakes his head. “Nope, no sorry,” he says. “Never apologize for kissing me, which I hope you do a thousand more times.”
“You didn’t mind?”
Stiles drops his head to the steering wheel. “I really am beginning to think you are blind and stupid.” He turns to Derek and says, “I’ve had the hugest crush on you for like ever.”
Derek stares at him, confused. “That can’t be. I’ve had the hugest crush on your for almost two years.”
“TWO YEARS?” Stiles exclaims. “DO YOU MEAN TO TELL ME WE COULD HAVE BEEN DATING AND KISSING AND TOUCHING DINGDONGS FOR TWO YEARS?” He groans and laughs. “My life is the worst.”
“Well, we could start now,” Derek says. “The dating and the kissing. Not the other. I’d like to wait a bit on the touching dingdongs thing, if that’s okay with you. I’d like my first time not to be in the back of a Jeep at a party.”
“I can’t guarantee our first time won’t be in the back of the Jeep,” Stiles tells him. “Though my dad works a lot, so we probably can coordinate a time when he’s not home to get naked and touch each other’s dingdongs.”
“Can we please stop calling it that?” Derek asks. “Or I might reconsider this whole thing.”
Stiles salutes. “Aye-aye, captain.” He bites his lips nervously, and Derek wants to kiss him, realizes that now he thinks he can. He can kiss Stiles as much as he wants, because Stiles wants to kiss him, too. “So, can we, I don’t know, lie in the back of the Jeep and make out?”
“Do you have a blanket?” Derek asks. “It’s kinda cold.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s a blanket back there somewhere.” Stiles grins, and Derek returns it. Stiles jumps through the seat openings, getting stuck between the two seats. Derek laughs at his ridiculousness as Stiles mutters curses under his breath. Finally, he tumbles into the back, and Derek carefully follows. “Ah-ha! I knew there’d be something back here.” He holds up a large comforter before spreading it onto the floor. “We can make a cocoon of love.”
Derek rolls his eyes. “Why do I like you again?”
Stiles shrugs. “You’ve got me. I’m just happy you do.” He smiles shyly and says, “I’m really looking forward to getting to know you, Derek. As dumb as that sounds.”
Derek cups Stiles’ cheek and drags his thumb underneath his eye. “Doesn’t sound dumb at all. I’m looking forward to the same thing.”
Stiles sighs in relief. “Awesome. Now, can we kiss for the rest of the night? We can like, exchange favorite movies and hobbies in between if we must.”
Derek laughs as Stiles grabs his arm and tugs him down on top of him. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” Stiles says, eyes bright and shining as he looks up at Derek. “But you like me.”
“I do like you,” Derek agrees, leaning down and kissing Stiles more fully. He doesn’t care what happens at the party with the rival teams. They can beat each other senseless for all he cares. He’s just content to be making out with his lacrosse player for the rest of the night.