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It started with Laura, and a horrible blind date idea. The blind date, Boyd (who was in their pack, so he was no stranger), devolved into hanging out within the first five minutes, with Boyd telling Derek how Laura coerced him into agreeing.
“I was restocking coffee cups and trying to remember the complicated coffee order this girl gave me when she came up and asked if I wanted to go out on a date,” Boyd shrugged, “I heard her say date, and blind, but not together.”
“Yeah,” Derek looked a tad lost, for he’s found the most delicious smell he’s ever smelled, “If she wants to, she’ll talk too fast for you to catch so you’ll blindly agree to what she says,” he said with an apologetic look.
“It’s okay,” Boyd shrugged out of his jacket, “We can always count our losses and hang out,” he added, to which Derek nodded.
The place they had met was an easygoing place that served breadsticks that were amazing, and food that was just good enough to warrant remembering the place. Their waiter, a tall gangly guy named Stiles, commiserated with them over blind dates and bumbled his way through serving them. Derek couldn’t help but continue staring Stiles down.
“No seriously, Scott—he’s my best friend and the other waiter here—and Erica—the sous chef-,” Erica was also part of his pack, “Is plotting dastardly deeds in getting me to find someone to go out with and it’s horrible.” He laid out their main course with a crinkled nose. Derek paid him his full attention, while Boyd ate and listened. “They tried this one girl—Lydia? I was like, in love with her for a while, but then we went on the date and that kind of just…tanked, like, a lot,” he shrugged, “We’re friends now, but they’re horrible at the matchmaker thing.”
“Blind dates are horrible, but at least you got to go out with a girl you liked,” Boyd said as Stiles stood straight. “No offence,” he added to Derek.
The two shrugged.
“I guess,” Stiles didn’t continue with his own tirade, “How’d you guys get this…thing?” he waved his hands in their direction and waited for an answer, despite having other patrons to worry about.
“Laura,” they chorused.
“And she is…?”
Derek sighed, “My sister.”
Boyd smiled sardonically, sharing a look with Derek. “Co-worker…I just started and she kind of…sprung it on me?” Stiles nodded his head in acceptance before dashing off to serve another guest.
At the end of the night, he commented lightly that it was a miracle that he didn’t drop or dump anything into their respective laps, what with them being so attractive.
And then he basically ran away to get their bill.
Derek left with a smirk on his face and at a relaxed gait when Boyd suggested watching a movie at the den.
-0-0-
The second was Uncle Peter, who insisted they go out and celebrate. He can’t remember what Peter wanted to celebrate (Probably finding a new thing to obsess about, as his plans about becoming a consulting detective for the police fell through, as they knew what Sherlock was and didn’t feel a need for a sub par replica. Though Derek really thinks Peter wanted to do that so he could get to know the Sheriff a bit better, but he digresses.)
Peter asked him where they should go, and he said the first place that came to mind. Laura had given him the biggest grin she could muster, and it seemed like it’d hurt, if she didn’t smile at him like that all the time (well, any time she knew something he didn’t, which felt like all the time.)
As they entered the place, he could smell the breadsticks and sighed. Not that he didn’t want to be here, because he did—their breadsticks were great after all—but Stiles was still bothering him. In the not actually there, but in the back of his mind sense. He caught himself wondering what Stiles did on his days off, or did other than work there, what his favourite food was, and sometimes—and this was rare—if he wore boxers or briefs kind of guy.
He simultaneously wanted to know everything about Stiles, and wanted him to be as far away from him as possible.
They walked into the restaurant, and Derek hunched into his leather jacket. The place was crowded, and he glared at the hostess. She gave him a beatific smile, however, and after asking how many, sat them in a dimly lit corner booth.
She handed them menus. “Your waiter will be with you short-.”
“I’m here!” Stiles skidded to a stop with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Allison, m’dad insisted I eat dinner at home…” he trailed off, before glancing at the three of them. “Hi Derek!” he looked pleased, “Sorry, my name is Stiles, I’ll be your waiter tonight,” he added to Laura and Peter.
Allison gave Stiles a confused look before nodding slowly. “Alright,” she pointed back to the podium she stood at, “I’ll just go…” she trailed off as she walked away.
Stiles beamed at the three of them, pulled out a pad of paper and asked what they wanted to drink.
Peter, being Peter, said, “You.”
Derek glared daggers at him while Stiles choked out a laugh and replied, “Tall glass of awesome it is, what soda would you prefer to be the filler?”
Peter merely huffed a laugh and replied, “Coke.”
“We’ll both get root beer,” Laura said before Derek could speak.
Stiles nodded, said, “I’ll let you look at your menus,” and dashed off.
Laura looked at Derek, a grin on her face, and said, “So you’ve met before?” in all the innocence she could. Derek didn’t bother to answer her.
Stiles returned within minutes with a tray of their breadsticks, this time scored with little designs—hearts and stars—rather than the plain ones he and Boyd received, and their drinks. “Have you decided?” he asked, wringing his fingers and fighting down a blush.
Derek picked up a breadstick and took a bite while Laura rattled off what she wanted for an appetizer, then a main course, and what she wanted for dessert. Peter ordered the same thing, except a different dessert, and they all turned to look at Derek, who swallowed down what he could of the breadstick. “What she’s having.”
Laura crinkled her nose at him, while Peter barely kept the gleeful grin off his face.
Stiles gave him an amused smile and nodded. “No dessert!” he added just as Stiles turned. Stiles nodded obediently and crossed something off his notepad as he walked away.
Laura looked at him. “Really?” she asked, “Did you see how big their pies are? They’re bigger than your head!” Derek rolled his eyes.
-0-0-
The third time he sees Stiles at the restaurant, he’s not working. He’s just sat down in the corner booth with Boyd and Erica—he remembers Stiles mentioning Erica but he doesn’t put two and two together until much later—and he hears Stiles talking animatedly about the Mets.
Their waiter, Scott, is looking pained as he follows Derek’s look. “It’s not really…working,” he said lowly, almost in embarrassment.
“He said you were horrible at matchmaking,” Derek commented idly.
Scott looked like Derek just kicked his puppy. “It wasn’t me!” he glanced back and made another face, “Lydia decided to help this time,” he said. Erica snorted to herself.
He gave his drink order and made a face as he listened to the pair.
-0-
“No, seriously! No matter what Lydia says, blue and orange totally go together,” he trailed off at the pained grimace of his date. “Jackson.”
Jackson blinked at him. “What?”
“Why are you still here?”
Jackson gave him a confused look. “What?”
Stiles rolled his eyes. “It’s obvious you’d rather not be here, on this date, so…?” he waited for a response. “I mean, I know I’m not a catch, but c’mon—level with me here, dude.”
Jackson shrugged. “Lydia asked me if I wanted to go on a date, I agreed, and here we are,” he said sourly.
“Did she specify it was a blind date?”
Jackson crossed his arms and coloured slightly, “No.”
Stiles snorted. “Dude, are you even attracted to guys?” he continued laughing, “That’s such an epic fail on Lydia’s part, I mean geez,” he chortles as he takes his phone out and taps at his screen. “So what should I tell her?” he asked.
“You can’t tell—what?” Jackson sounded lost.
“Well, considering you thought you were going on a date with her, and not me, kinda speaks wonders…I mean, the fact that you even stayed this long—holy crap, you’re totally in love with her, aren’t you?” he tries and fails at keeping a straight face, despite Jackson’s glare intensifying. “Oh, you poor sap,” he said and leaned forward. “Tell Stiles how much your life sucks.”
Jackson glared at him and glanced around. “I thought she was asking me out.”
“And…?”
“I dressed up for her!” he threw his hands into the air. “She-she’s known me forever, and she suddenly springs this date on me and I thought she was asking me out but it was for you and you are not my type.”
“Sorry?” Stiles raised an eyebrow while barely suppressing his laughter. “How bout I call her, and we’ll sort this whole-.”
“No.” Jackson stood and grabbed his jacket while throwing a couple of bills onto the table. “I’m just going to go and wallow in self pity,” he said sarcastically. Stiles didn’t look convinced but allowed Jackson to leave.
He stretched out and tapped at his screen again. It took him a moment before he was saying, “Hey, Lyds!”
-0-
Derek looked away from Stiles’ table to see Boyd and Erica staring at him. He stared back.
“You’re such a creeper,” Erica said plainly. Boyd ducked his head to smile. Derek rolled his eyes but flagged down Scott.
-0-0-
“So,” Isaac tapped his fingers along the tabletop, “Laura said we have to bond,” he said with a twitch of his lips.
Derek nodded. “Yep.”
Isaac puffed out his cheeks as they sat in silence. “Do you like cheese?”
Derek fought back a smile, “It’s my favourite animal by-product.”
Isaac grinned.
Scott walked to their table and cleared his throat. “I’m Scott, I’ll be your waiter. Hi, Derek.”
Derek nodded at him. “Scott,” he looked at Isaac. “This is Isaac.”
Isaac and Scott stared at one another.
His question of where Stiles was was ignored.
-0-0-
“Hey, Derek,” Stiles said brightly, “Alone tonight?” he asked as he set down the bowl of breadsticks, and his drink.
“Yeah,” he said with a shrug as he tapped his fingers along the edge of the menu.
Stiles’ watch beeped and he smiled slightly, “Sorry but I’m going on my dinner break…um, Sc-.”
“Do you want to join me?” he asked before Stiles could finish.
Stiles blinked before nodding. His heartbeat sped up triple time and looked around. “I’ll just go get my dinner, then?” he paused, “What were you going to order? I could totally run ‘round to the kitchen and tell them…” he trailed off as Derek made a face at the menu.
“I’ll stick with the drink and the breadsticks,” he said. Stiles nodded awkwardly before running off.
Derek tried to tune out the sound of Stiles freaking out at Scott and Erica in the kitchen. When he returned, he sat down as calmly as he could and smiled at Derek. “So, you know Erica?”
“She’s…family,” Derek said, haltingly, “Well, unofficial-adoptive family,” he conceded.
Stiles nodded, looking intrigued. “That’s cool. Scott’s like my bro, so I totally get it,” Stiles took a bite of his food and seemed to think about it. “Is it you that adopts them as siblings, or Laura?”
Derek shrugged. “She really took a shining to Boyd, but Erica’s the one that convinced us that Boyd should be apart of the family in the first place.”
Stiles nodded again. Scott stepped into their line of sight and looked at Derek expectantly. Derek shrugged and ordered a burger half-heartedly. Scott walked off while muttering about sick days.
Stiles watched him for a moment before shrugging at Derek’s raised eyebrow. “He’s preoccupied with trip plans for him…and Isaac…”
“Isaac?” Derek stared at the table as he thought of Isaac.
“Yeah, Isaac Lahey—totally a friend stealer but whatever; he somehow wormed his way into being Scott’s go to guy about everything,” he gave Derek a look, “after he and Allison broke up and wow stop me from talking now, please,” he stuffed his mouth full of curly fries.
Derek subtly sniffed at the air when Scott walked back with his food. Scott froze and stared at him. Derek stared back.
Stiles looked between them. “No, Scott, go wait on someone else.” Scott blinked and turned to look at Stiles in confusion before walking off again. “Damn animal magnetism,” he muttered around a sip of his drink.
Derek turned confused eyes on him. “What?”
Stiles shrugged and glanced towards where Allison and Scott were talking quietly. “Everyone wants to get all up in his grill,” Stiles gave him a significant look. “Sexually.”
Derek stared at Stiles before snorting. “Not my type.”
Stiles gave him an appraising look and nodded.
-0-0-
“Are you playing at something?”
“What?”
“Why is there a number on my breadsticks?”
“I…have no idea…that’s not my number, what?”
“I want my bill now.”
“Okay, I’m sorry, I don’t know-.”
“Bill.”
“Right, be right back.”
Derek looked around and spotted the guy, who was looking uncomfortable and angry. Stiles returned with the bill and waited anxiously as the guy left. Stiles picked up the money and made a face. “Cheapskate,” he muttered. “I didn’t even like him…freakin’ Erica.”
He listened for a moment and heard Erica say, “I can slash his tires if you want.” Stiles’ refusal and laugh calmed Derek down from doing it himself.
He had to remember that laugh later that night when Scott (the apparent omega that’s been dodging them at every turn) attacks them on their full moon run.
-0-0-
Derek has come to terms with Stiles being that delicious smell from his first visit to the restaurant. He’s also come to terms with the fact that Stiles should probably know that Scott’s a werewolf. Well, all of his friends are, not including the Lydia girl that Jackson has around all the time.
Laura is sitting with him when Stiles sits down with them to have his dinner break. Derek briefly wonders if these are considered dates. “Hello again, Stiles,” she said brightly.
Stiles grinned in return and said, “Hello,” before digging into his fries.
The two shared a look before clasping her hands in front of her and leaning forward. “I’m just going to come out and say it, and this is 100% true, but don’t freak out, okay?” Stiles nodded as he took a sip of his drink. “Scott, as well as almost all of your friends, are werewolves.”
Stiles put his drink down and stared at the two of them for the longest time, “I know.”
“You…you know.” Derek repeated.
“Yeah—who do you think helped Scott control his wolf?” Stiles gave them both judging looks as he stalled in his chewing, “Why would I smell like dog all the time, even though I don’t have one?” he snorted. “I’m not stupid, you know, I figured that shit out before Scott did.”
Laura nodded her head, looking impressed. “I approve, Derek,” she said happily, standing and clapping him on the shoulder. “Good catch.”
“What?” the two chorused, staring at her.
She looked back at them, sighed, and muttered, “Boys.”
-0-0-
I swear we picked a real winner this time!
We got the right person for you this time, don’t worry!
He’s perfect for you.
No, seriously, you’ll love him.
He and Stiles stared at one another. Stiles let out a small laugh and shook his head. Plopping down into his seat, he sat back and gave Derek a sardonic grin. “My perfect guy,” he said lightly.
Derek gave him a small smile and sat. It was a moment of silence before Stiles handed him a breadstick, with, “They done good.”