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Stiles didn’t know what he had done in a past life to deserve this.
His attention span had always been difficult to control and he often used humor to get his point across, but he did his homework and excelled at school. Somehow, this had translated into him being the most entertaining presenter in classes, and his classmates demanded that he add jokes to his work every midterms week.
At first, Stiles appreciated the attention; with Scott as his best friend, it was often difficult to feel like anything other than the sidekick. However, as time went on, he noticed that the jokes felt less funny to him and he just wanted someone to be interested in what he had to say regardless of his delivery.
And this problem started with Derek Hale.
If they were still in high school, Derek would be the star quarterback that everyone loves but no one really knows. Looking like he walked out of a biker bar just moments before engaging in deep literary discussions, Derek was nothing like Stiles expected to find when he accepted his spot at Berkeley, and he can’t help but question the universe for its part in bringing Derek into his life.
Because Derek didn’t laugh at his jokes. Every presentation, Derek meticulously took notes while Stiles babbled on, glasses falling down his nose until he had to pause from his scrutiny of the screen to push them up with his long fingers. Derek in glasses was a sight to behold, and if it hadn’t been for Stiles’ ability to think about ten things at once, he would’ve started drooling the first time he saw it.
At first, he found the lack of laughter from Derek curious; maybe his jokes just hadn’t been his particular style? But as time wore on and each presentation brought no laughter, Stiles began to wonder if maybe Derek just didn’t like him.
Derek never spoke, and would only engage in class discussion when forced by the professor, but he gave such insight into the material that Stiles couldn’t help but crush on his brain as well as his ridiculous body. Derek Hale was everything Stiles wanted and he had no idea how to talk to him.
Midterms were upon him, and with it another presentation. He never understood the reasoning behind literary presentations; after all, shouldn’t the discussion be how you learn the material? But, his professors loved to torture him, and he sat down with a sigh in the library to work on the latest topic. He was at a loss for what to do; everyone would expect him to joke, but his topic wasn’t funny. Even if the movie made it seem funny at times, Anna Karenina was serious and Stiles wanted nothing more than to talk about the real plight facing the women in the novel, rather than joking about Russians drinking potato water.
He looked up, scanning the library while failing to come up with any joke to include in his presentation when he saw Derek walk through the stacks. Dressed in a cozy sweater with a knitted scarf wrapped around his neck, Derek grabbed a book off of the shelves in the Russian literature section and Stiles was transfixed.
His presentation lay forgotten as he continued to follow Derek’s movements. It didn’t make sense for Derek to be so graceful by simply walking, but everything about him was a contradiction. Stiles wanted to spend days learning everything about him and it hurt to know it would never happen.
Startling, he noticed Derek’s eyes connect with his, and he realized with dawning horror that Derek was moving in his direction. Looking around him again, he realized with dismay that all of the tables were full; if Derek wanted to study here, he would have to sit at someone’s table.
He heard a cough above him, and realized with a start that Derek had managed to cross the length of the room in that short time, and his cheeks pinked up as their eyes met again. “Do you mind if I sit here?” Derek spoke quietly, his bag hovering over the empty space. Stiles nodded, words failing him as he watched Derek settle into his seat.
With a shuddered breath, he finally turned his gaze back to his presentation, stifling a groan at the realization that he still had not come up with any material. The jokes just weren’t coming, and feeling obligated to be funny was draining.
Turning his gaze away from his screen, he wondered idly if asking Derek about it would go over well. He knew that Derek didn’t find him funny, but maybe talking it out would give him the chance to come up with some halfway decent material. Without a second thought, he addressed Derek.
“Hey dude, can I run some jokes by you for this presentation?”
Derek looked up, and woah Stiles had missed how brilliant his eyes are. He had not missed how gruff he was, though, when he responded. “Presentations shouldn’t be funny. And don’t call me dude.”
Stiles was taken aback. Not thinking he was funny was one thing, but literature had humor and that should be acknowledged when necessary. Derek turned back to his own work, and Stiles couldn’t build up the courage to say anything in response. He supposed that Derek was right; some things weren’t funny, and rejection was definitely one of them.
“Scotty, I completely blew it,” Stiles whined, sprawled across his bed while Scott sat on the floor beside him, taking advantage of their roommate’s absence to play video games as loud as possible.
“Buddy, it’s not that bad,” Scott interjected, clearly too preoccupied by the game to understand the severity of the situation.
Stiles huffed, refusing to look at Scott for his useless contribution. “Dude, he was sitting right there and the only thing I thought to discuss with him was jokes for my presentation? I know he doesn’t think I’m funny, so I don’t know why the thought came to me.”
“Maybe you’re drinking too much coffee to make up for not sleeping enough,” Scott supplied, and Stiles couldn’t stop staring at him in horror.
“You can never drink too much coffee,” Stiles whispered in horror, Derek momentarily forgotten in the face of such an accusation. Scott waved his hand behind him, finally pausing the game to look fully at Stiles.
“Bro, if he doesn’t find you funny, you don’t want to be with him anyways,” Scott said seriously, and Stiles slumped in defeat.
“But he’s smart and beautiful and I want his babies,” Stiles replied in a rush, Scott patting his arm in sympathy.
“Why don’t we go out and get drunk? You’ll be thinking about someone else in no time,” Scott suggested, and while Stiles didn’t really believe that, he nodded eagerly anyway.
Monday found Stiles back in the library, this time with the added bonus of feeling like he was dying. He knew better than to drink to the point of belligerence, but he had needed it. He had wanted to be so much more than Stiles Stilinski when he came to college, but he was still just as awkward now as he had been in high school. Now at least he had the ability to get drunk away from parental eyes.
Slogging his way towards the tables, he noticed Derek sitting by himself, occupying the same table they had both sat at the week before. He headed in that direction, resigning himself to the possibility of getting rejected again but realizing that he had no other choice; everyone was finally working on their papers, and every table was full yet again.
He stopped in front of Derek and waited for him to look up, hoping that Derek was in a cheerful mood and would just let him sit without comment. When Derek continued to work without a glance his way, he finally sighed and placed his heavy bag on the table; it was too close to deadlines and he was too hungover to deal with niceties.
“Look, all of the other tables are full and I just really need to get this done. Can I sit here?” He blurted out, blushing with mortification as his brain caught up with his mouth. Derek finally looked at him, startled, but nodded slowly as Stiles gratefully slid into the seat.
Finding the will to get out his computer, Stiles thanked the universe silently that midterms just might distract him enough that he won’t embarrass himself too much in front of Derek. He opened his presentation again, willing his brain to condense the information into the slides.
They sat in silence together for hours, working in tandem as the day slowly turned into night. Stiles knew he had to finish regardless of the quality; with the presentation being tomorrow morning, he needed to sleep at some point if he hoped to be somewhat coherent. Jolting up at a noise above him, he looked away from the screen for the first time in hours to see Derek standing beside him, awkwardly holding out a cup of coffee. Stiles had never loved somebody more in that moment.
“Dude, thank you for this heavenly nectar of the gods,” Stiles exhaled, taking in the scent of coffee while his senses rebooted.
Derek snorted, a spark of humor lighting up his features. “It’s not ambrosia,” he replied, and Stiles found himself falling deeper. Apparently Derek did have a sense of humor, and it was just locked away in secret. Filing this knowledge away for the future, Stiles downed his coffee while putting the finishing touches on his presentation.
“Well dude it’s time I went to sleep. See you tomorrow in class!” He directed towards Derek, gathering the rest of his stuff while thinking excitedly of his bed. Over the noise of his movements a quiet “Bye, Stiles” could be heard as he exited the library.
“Scott, these jokes are stupid and my professor is finally going to fail me for it. I should just take them out.” Stiles tripped about the room, rushing to gather his notecards while gesticulating wildly in Scott’s direction.
“Chill, Stiles. You just showed me this presentation and i laughed. Everyone is going to love it,” and with that, Stiles remembered again why Scott was his best bro. Even if he didn’t always understand him, Scott managed to always say the right thing.
“Thanks man,” he replied, finally gathering everything into one heap in his backpack before turning fully. Scott tossed him his keys, pushing him out of the door with a quick, “Good luck!”
He hurried down the halls, hoping that he could make it there before his professor. There was nothing she hated more than tardiness and he didn’t want to go first. He entered the room, noting with relief that he had made it on time. Rushing to a seat, he noticed that Derek had sat right behind his usual row, but he didn’t have time to ponder that now; if he wanted any food in his system at all, he needed to inhale his snack before the professor noticed him.
The room finally filled, and the professor called each student up one by one; Derek’s presentation was a sight to behold, his discussion of Gogol going far beyond anything Stiles had thought about. Time dwindled until it was finally Stiles’ turn. He stood, brushing the crumbs off of his shirt and making his way to the front of the room.
“So, I wrote about the plight of women in Anna Karenina, or as it might be better known in pop culture as Annaconda Karenina: Snakes on a Train,” and with that, Stiles clicked to his first slide, a badly photoshopped image of snakes surrounding Keira Knightley. Dead silence permeated the room, broken only by a stifled noise in the back row. Startled, Stiles realized the noise had come from Derek, who tried to make himself inconspicuous while holding in his laughter.
He continued on, his surprise at Derek’s laughter not distracting him enough to forget that he just wanted this to be over. “So, Anna Karenina. Tolstoy wrote this to discuss the pitfalls of dramatic, romantic love, and to particularly highlight the power of his own relationship with his wife. You could say, though, that this effort seemed to go off track with the depth with which we examine Anna’s story,” and with that, Stiles heard more stifled laughter from Derek, joined by a few other classmates but unmistakable to Stiles’ ears.
His presentation passed in a daze, and his remaining puns managed to make his classmates laugh while his literary analysis pleased his professor. Afterwards, she took him aside to discuss possibly presenting his work at a conference, but his tiredness caught up to him before he could speak with her too in depth about it. He noticed Derek sitting on a bench as he existed, but passed by without comment, too focused on his next exam.
Days passed without incident, and Stiles managed to survive the papers he was assigned. Now, strolling through the library felt less stifling, and he settled into an armchair to do some reading between classes. A shadow fell across him, highlighted by the dying light through the windows, and Stiles looked to see Derek standing above him, looking nervous. He waited, wondering what he would want to talk about.
“Can I sit,” Derek finally said, and Stiles nodded his assent while continuing to wonder at the situation. Moments passed as they breathed, before Derek looked at him again.
“I liked your presentation,” Derek murmured, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose while red rushed to the surface of his ears. Stiles felt hopelessly endeared.
“I’m surprised you found it funny. You never laugh at my jokes,” Stiles said without thinking, and wished he hadn’t; he didn’t want Derek to feel like he was obligated to laugh.
Derek shook his head, a ghost of guilt spreading across his face. “I always find you funny,” Derek responded, the blush darkening as he spoke. “I just really like hearing your thoughts on literature, and it’s hard to focus on that when you laugh.”
Stiles felt something inside him shrivel up. Of course Derek would find it unattractive to hear him laugh; he shouldn’t have expected otherwise. He could hear his voice turn brittle as he replied, “Why, because it’s so annoying? Thanks for letting me know, dude, I appreciate the feedback.”
“No!” Derek interrupted, and Stiles wished that he would’ve just left at that. He didn’t want to hear whatever Derek had to say.
“I don’t find it funny, I find it breathtaking,” and the air punched out of Stiles’ lungs. Him, breathtaking? But as he looked closer at Derek he saw that Derek was still nervous. He made Derek nervous?
“I’ve been trying to talk to you all semester, but every time you talk to me I act like a dick. I’m sorry,” and Derek moved, collecting his bag quickly in an effort to get away.
“Hey wait,” Stiles called out, going after him as he exited the library. He finally caught up to him in the middle of the field, reaching for Derek’s arm before he could go any further. Derek turned, but refused to look at him, and Stiles couldn’t have that.
“What did the nose say as he was running away from Gogol?” he blurted out, and Derek caught his eye at the words.
No reply came, and Stiles rushed on, hoping that this one time the universe was on his side. “Nobody nose!” and with that, Derek erupted, his whole body rumbling with laughter while he failed to control his reaction. Stiles marveled at the sight, and couldn’t help but laugh in response.
“Dude, that was the most adorable reaction I’ve ever seen,” Stiles finally said, catching Derek’s hand gently to intertwine their fingers. Derek gazed at their interlocked hands before a full smile bloomed across his face. “ Do you want to watch Anna Karenina together?” Derek asked, and Stiles wanted nothing more in the world.
That semester, finals brought a group project, and with it came a chance for Derek and Stiles to combine their efforts to make the best presentation possible. Complete with wonderful commentary and hilarious jokes (as attested to by Derek, who proved time and time again that he really did find Stiles funny), they passed the final without question, and continued on with their literature courses.
They fucked, and fought, and made up, and with each passing day, they made it through with no small amount of effort. They talked about their families, and movies, and Stiles dragged Derek to see Star Wars, and Derek in turn surprised Stiles with tickets to see The Force Awakens four times.
They talked about Tolstoy, about his disdain for women, and the general misconception about Lolita. They branched out into other literary canons, and taught one another and made sure to make as many puns as possible.
They left them everywhere, in sock drawers, on sticky notes, and while their friends just rolled their eyes, it never failed to bring a smile to the other’s face.
And whenever Stiles or Derek was asked about the start of their relationship, they would look at the other and just say “Nobody nose!” No one else really understood, but that secret was just for them.