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So here's the thing.
When Stiles' mom died, his dad, the Great Sheriff of Beacon Hills, decided that a scenery change was in order. This was an attempt, in the most part, to get away from the quiet demons that threatened to drown what remained of their little family in grief, be it while sleeping, waking up, doing homework, using that one specific fabric softener they didn't manage to shove far enough away into the cabinet, cooking.
After six months of battling with several bottles of liquids with varying consistencies and color, and almost leaving his son an orphan, the sheriff realized there was only one thing to do-
Move his son to the middle of bumfuck nowhere.
It wasn't so bad. Okay, it wasn't the worst it could be. Stiles was only about 10 years old, so it wasn't near the end of his pre-college career. It was the middle of the school year, but when he had to change schools from one of the towns only pre-high school two choices (at which point everyone filed into a single high school) well, that wasnt so bad either because he had trouble making friends in the first place. And then he met Scott, and for the next 6 1/2 years, give or take a semester, things were wonderful!
Best friend? Check!
Future wife? Check!
Good grades? Check!
Medical things? Under control.
Sexual identity crisis? Been there, survived that!
Future husband? Eehhh, see below.
The bus? Well, there was one good thing that came from being one of the only seniors without alternate transportation. (see above)
Oh, right. The middle of bumfuck nowhere that already happens to be in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. There's Beacon Hills. And then there's the country part of Beacon Hills away from most suburbia and surrounded by trees, trees, some moss, an occasional rabbit, and another tree.
It wasn't all that. It really wasn't all that bad. Strangely, a lot of people love the Wild Life. Untamed Lands. Uncharted Territory. Stiles hates dull, and the ride to school? On a school bus too decrepit to get with the times and install air conditioning because his district was either too cheap or too poor to upgrade? Well, it had the potential to be dull, but it wasn't. Because of all the aforementioned weirdos who liked living in the woods like wild creatures. Not that there was anything wrong with being one with nature.
Stiles would just rather do it through a TV monitor. With bitching graphics. And the las test gaming console he could afford. And if not all nature was green and tree-y? Not his fault.
So anyway, the school bus rides that were forced upon Stiles because his dad had to leave the house at an ungodly hour if he even came home from his shift at all, they weren't boring.
You know, until they were.
Which happened at about the same time that everyone in Wild Beacon Hills who all happened to be about the same age, decided they wanted to do the same thing and trade the bus for their own cars, which they all tried to do as soon as they got their drivers licenses, money-pending.
So, by the end of junior year at the latest. And, actually, that was only one straggler who held out as long as he could. Poor Greenberg. He had managed to stick it out for an entire semester after Samantha Wheeler's dad bought her a Kia Soul to smooth over the divorce.
The point is, no one took the bus unless they had to. And Stiles? Had to. His dad was still so far in debt with his mothers hospital bills that every check from Stiles' job at the library was saved for college. He had to rely on his dad to get home from work. And Scott when he wanted to see the outside world. But college was important so he'd do what he had to.
As much as Stiles hated taking the bus, there was on thing he rejoiced about-his future husband still took the bus, too! All however many pounds of muscly rabbit-tooth gruffy-scruffy-bearded hotness, all his for the ogling every morning from 8 am to 8:20. That intense bitch face? All his.
His name was Derek Hale, fellow senior but only because he was held back Sophomore year-some say it was math class, some say it was his horrible personality, some say it was a girl;Stiles didn't know. But Stiles did know that he glared at anything that came within a 2-foot radius, including Stiles himself. Eh, he was willing to work on that. Stiles also knew that he preferred to sit in the very back, every morning, after a quick nod at the bus driver and an angry glare at Stiles. Like clockwork. Whether he chose the back as a vantage point or because the back got the best bounce at a bump, well, Stiles didn't know that either.
Nor did he understand why Derek Hale, as beautiful as he was, didn't find his own ride or mooch of some poor, desperate fan girl of the week. But Stiles wasn't complaining! Instead, he got to watch his man brood from his spot close enough to the front to stalk him from the mirror reflector strapped to the front of the bus. It was all good fun, watching Derek stare out the window with his aggressive eyebrows aggressively caterpilling a serenade to the dirty, grimy, under cleaned window.
For an entire semester and a half this had gone on. Probably, technically, a little longer since once Samantha left and there was no Greenberg-buffer, Stiles had sat closer to Derek than he'd ever dreamed before, to escape. They had a sort of mutualism thing going on. Until Greenberg left and, well, so much for that excuse. No more minute-long intense stare-offs until Derek decided what was happening out the window was more interesting than whatever threat Stiles could possibly be. No more almost sympathetic eyebrow raises when Greenberg would shot something down the bus because he just couldn't wait to tell Stiles. No more chances to get help with his history report (not that Stiles had asked, but it seemed there was only so much groaning and sighing a guy could take).
But the last two weeks. The last weeks.
Derek had started to make eye contact with Stiles via reflective window. Briefly at first, and then with longevity.
And Stiles decided, this is it. This is his chance!
So, today, when they stood outside the lone bus stop that somehow found its way unbiasedly equal distant from all WBH homes, as he dragged his feet through the dirt ground, and he felt a presence stand beside him, 7:50 am, like clock work, same amount of steps that he always stood from Stiles (was this guy OCD?)-far enough away to breathe his own air, close enough to comfortably reach out and put a hand on his shoulder-Stiles looked over and gave his finest small grin.
And when that didn't get Derek's attention from where he aggressively contemplated a stump in the road about 50 yards out, he added a wave.
And when Derek's head swiveled to Stiles and his caterpillars furrowed in confusion, Stiles squeaked out a small "hi". Or at least, that's what it was supposed to sound like. Derek grunted and the remaining ten pre-bus minutes were spent in silence, contemplating trees.
-
When the bus finally pulled to a stop, narrowly missing Stiles' toes, the two boys silently packed on. This time, however, Stiles gestured for Derek to get on first. He followed behind, barely able to breathe, watching Derek's efficient jerk of a nod to the driver, observing as he ambled back, back, back to the rear seat. He hesitated to sit down in his normal seat, cursing his fear for holding him back, as Derek spotted him lolly gagging and narrowed his eyes.
"Hey kid!" barked the bus driver, Dale. Bless him. Stiles snapped out of his headspace with a startled turn and a manly squeal. "Get a move on, or imma leave you here."
"Yes sir, Mr. Dale sir!" Stiles gave a salute and swiveled to the bus seat in front of him and and took a deep breathe and swiveled toward Derek and started walking his away before he had the chance to chicken out again.
Derek said nothing as Stiles took a seat beside him, just kind of gave him a side eye. Silence prevailed for five minutes.
"So, uh....." Stiles messily tapped his fingers to his thighs. He scrambled to think of something benign, but not too stupid. He could surmise about the weather? Or he could talk about how he got an A on his paper on the history of the Civil War and the erasure of the south from battlegrounds after their loss. Or, maybe Derek would like to hear about Scott? And Scott's annoying puppy eyes that got him out of trouble all the time, especially with his girlfriend. Derek has nice eyes. Stiles would know, is the most educated in the eyes of Derek Hale after all the time he- "I've been seeing you stare at me in the mirror. I mean, uh, we keep staring all the time. I mean, eye contact has been made. Like, smoldering 'I want you' eye contact. Right? No? Cause I could have swo-"
Derek, who had turned his head to kill Stiles with his eye-lazer beams, and wow were Derek's eyes even more beautiful up close, it had been a theory that they were green, but on closer inspection, boy is green not the only color in their creation, man he has some alleles!-and he seemed to only get more and more unimpressed as Stiles rambled on.
Derek grunted, cutting Stiles off (in only a way someone very intimidating can) before he seemed to regard Stiles searchingly. "I was only staring back, Stiles." He conceded.
Stiles tried to form words but couldn't, and boy did his mouth look like a wish! It must have. "Wha- uh- I don't stare at you! Whaaat? Psh no."
Derek raised an eyebrow but a smile bit at the corners of his mouth.
"Wait you know my name!?" came a second later, causing Derek to release a put upon sigh.
"Greenberg sure screamed it enough in desperation."
Stiles felt his cheeks heat up, and internally cursed because he knew just how much of a tomato he had a penchant of becoming. "Right, no, yeah, of course. I knew that. Greenberg. Oh, that Greenberg!"
Derek faced front, but Stiles saw that his smile had come back a little bit bigger and a little bit brighter. "And you're in my English class this year, and math with me the year before that, chemistry before that, and we have shared a bus in the morning for about 7 years-"
"Alright, alright already. I get it! Of course you k ow my name." What's redder than a tomato because that what Stiles is. An apple? A tapple? But if its about hue, then definitely the fruit bowl on his kitchen counter. His dads kitchen counter? Who owns that counter? He could be red like the sun, but the sun is hot, not color-
Derek let out a chuckle.
"What?"
"You get lost in your head a lot" Derek noted, shrugging his shoulders.
"Yeah," Stiles conceded, "I do. Oh! Hey, so you never responded earlier. About the eye contact, and it smoldering?"
Derek just raised an eyebrows, and turned to look back at Stiles, who was relieved to see he seem amused.
"Maybe its a thing. What are you going about it?" He challenged.
Stiles gave a thoughtful hum. "Well, I think taking the bus sucks, no offense to Dale. Dale's an okay guy. But I know that we both have a drivers license. And you have a extra car that is, you know, not used for your parents. Why don't you use that car again?"
Stiles watched with fascination as Derek, THE Derek Hale, began to turn red without warning. Derek gave Stiles another side eye before he cleared his throat.
"It's mainly Laura's," Derek bit out in a mumble. Stiles had to lean closer and still almost couldn't hear or understand him. "She's at the community college or her job. So, she can't exactly drive me around everywhere. She's the oldest so she got the car?" He gave a messy shrug when he was done, and then turned his grimace to the window.
Eh, good enough for him! Stiles shrugged. "We'll that's a shame because I was thinking we could carpool, get to know each other better. Maybe go steady?" Stiles turned a mischievously raised eyebrow to Derek, who missed the evil mastermind glint in Stiles' eyes because he refused to stop looking out that damn window, and only relased a high pitched hiccup that sounded suspiciously like the word "steady".
With a fake, exaggerated, put-upon sigh he said "but, I guess since that's out and there's no car to car pull with or drive anywhere with and we are stuck on this bus for the rest of our miserable lives-" which caused Derek to whip his head around to Stiles and look panicked.
"WE COULD MAKE OUT" he rushed out, and then looked, horrified, over at Dale The Driver, who just stared back with squinty eyes and a judgmental glare. His attention was forced back to Stiles when he heard a creepy cackle sound from beside him.
"Why, Derek! I thought you'd never ask!" And the next thing Derek knew, his shirt was being yanked forward, he was being pulled with it, and soft, delicious, perfect lips were being attached to his.
They stayed that way, lost to time and geographical location until they were forced about by a booming "ENOUGH."
Both boys looked over with large eyes that melted into sheepish grins as they gazed at their principal who stared them down with a tapping foot and a matching finger across her folded arms.
Turns out, Dale the Driver had failed so miserably at trying to break them about he had to get reinforcements. And because of their inappropriate display-"BUT WE'RE THE ONLY ONES THAT EVEN RIDE THIS BUS!"-they were forced to find per image, alternate means to get to school.
-
The next morning, as Stiles say dejected on the front steps of his porch, mollified by embarrassment via his only remaining parental unit, but not grounded for his "incorporate display of affection", the sound of a car pulling into his drive way told him it was time to shut off his phone.
However, instead of Scott's beat up, shabby looking red car, a reflective, pristine black Camero was parked in his dads usual spot. Before Stiles could get too confused at what was going on, or worried enough to run back into the house and lock the door-perks of being a sheriffs kid- the door clicked open and a beautiful figure emerged. Definitely an angel sent from Heaven. Supposedly. At least in terms of hotness. Okay, and those bunny teeth. And okay, the way his whole face seems to go into blushing.
Point is! Derek! Standing on his driveway. What was he doing here?
"Where are you doing here?"
Really? Way to go, Stiles' mind.
Derek released a good nature chuckle, and said with a grin "I thought you could use a ride."
"Hell, yeah, I can! Just give me a sec! Let me text Scotty!" In an instant, Stiles had his phone whipped out and his fingers flying across the keys. "Done!" He said proudly as he walked over to Derek, and stuffed his phone into his pocket. Multitasking, it's not just for girls!
Before he could reach Derek, Derek closed the space between them and scooped him up into a hug, before kissing him. It was just a sweet hello kiss, nothing dirty or heavy, but Stiles still startled when he heard the window roll down and a voice shout "Hey Stiles!"
Derek groaned and connected his forehead to Stiles before stepping away, and giving Stiles a clear line of vision to.....Cora. In the backseat.
"I was going to tell you, but then I got distracted by your mouth." Derek grimaced. "When Laura agreed to lend me her car, which was pretty much a necessity even though she acted out out, I had to agree to take Cora to and from school, too."
"Yeah, well it's about time, too! There are only so many awkward rides with mom I can stand and I was about to reach my limit. Not the point that she was already dropping me off a block away from school." Stiles watched as Cora tossed more of her body out the open window with a dramatic sigh. "About time, losers! Do you know how long I suffered because Derek insisted on taking the bus? Laura offering is a rare thing, you know. But what does Derek do? He has to take the bus because that's the only time he really sees you, can get you alone-"
"OKAY!" Derek clapped his hands together and gives them a rub. "I think it's time to get this show on the road and get to school, don't you think?" His tapple-red face betrayed his calm, waterless voice. Haha, asshole.
Stiles feels rooted to the ground, though. And his grin feels stitched into his face, almost painfully. "Wait, wait, wait. You mean you only took the bus for me? To see my beautiful face every morning?"
Derek's bunny teeth show up as he bites into his bottom lip. "Yeah, so?" He mumbled, looking only at the ground. Stiles needed to fix that ASAP because the only place Derek's eyes should be looking it at his face.
He lets out a pleased sound and rocks on his toes. "I think that's cute."
"Yeah?" Derek peeks out through the top of his eyes and his bunny teeth begin to grow a smile.
"Definitely." Stiles affirms. They proceed to gravitate toward each other for another kiss when Cora groans and makes a gagging sound.
"Make me late and I will never forgive either of you." Is her warning.
The boys pull away from each other, chuckling, and move towards the car, hand in hand, not releasing until the last moment.
-
When Stiles graduates his dad gives him a blue jeep as a graduation present, which Stiles promptly christens Roscoe, and he's happy. So happy. Now, when he gets to Stanford, he'll have a way to get to Derek that is not through a text message or Skype.
Transportation is very important.