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The first time it happens, Stiles nearly chokes on his “mashed potatoes” (he’s pretty sure they’re not supposed to be grey), and Scott freezes with his fork halfway to his mouth. Boyd is sitting down next to Stiles. On purpose. Stiles is sure of it, because Boyd nods at him before setting his tray down.
‘Heeey, Boyd,’ Stiles says, trying to sound welcoming. Boyd doesn’t sit with anyone but Erica and Isaac. Ever. It hasn’t happened once in their three years of high school. Not that Stiles minds. He’s thrilled actually. ‘Whatcha doin’ here?’
As if by answer, Boyd starts eating his lunch. Stiles doesn’t expect a vocalized answer anytime soon, so he turns to Scott, who is looking at him with wide eyes, silently asking him what the hell is happening. Stiles shrugs and Scott’s expression turns disbelieving. Stiles shrugs again, this time with his entire body. Scott turns his attention to Boyd, but Boyd is focused on his food, so he doesn’t see the quizzical expression directed at him.
They eat in silence. For a couple minutes, at least, because that’s when Stiles can’t take the silence anymore, and starts talking about the Economics project that’s due next week. Boyd doesn’t really say anything unless they directly ask him a question.
When lunch is over, Boyd gives them a parting nod and walks away.
‘What the hell was that?’ Stiles hisses at Scott, as they make their way out of the cafeteria.
‘I don’t know,’ Scott shrugs, looking just as disconcerted by the situations as Stiles.
The rest of the day continues as normal and Stiles decides that Boyd sitting with them was probably a fluke, a singularity, an anomaly, a once in a lifetime event. Which is why, when it happens again the next day, Stiles nearly falls out of his chair.
‘So, Boyd,’ Stiles starts, determined to make Boyd feel welcome. ‘How was your day?’
‘Pretty good so far. A kid in the back of the bus threw up, though.’ Boyd pulls a disgusted face, and Stiles bites down on his lip to keep from laughing.
‘Right, you take the bus!’ Stiles exclaims.
Boyd raises an eyebrow at his enthusiasm. Understandable, because Stiles can still clearly remember how much the bus sucks.
‘Hey, if you want you could ride with us. I’m pretty sure your place isn’t that far out of the way,’ Stiles adds.
Boyd just stares at him, while Stiles’ stomach fills up with butterflies and dread. He looks to Scott for help, but his friend simply looks impressed with Stiles’ nerve.
‘Okay,’ Boyd finally agrees.
Stiles breathes a sigh of relief and starts shovelling his food in his mouth. Today is pizza day, the only day of the week he’s sure of what he’s actually eating, and he’s determined to fill up.
With the pizza, and Boyd actually joining in the conversation, lunch is pretty awesome. Boyd’s really funny. He has a dry, sarcastic sense of humour that Stiles can appreciate. But Stiles already knew that from his observations that Scott calls “casual stalking” (it’s not stalking if I don’t actually follow him, Scott). When the bell signals the end of lunch, Boyd looks uncertain for a moment. Stiles flounders for a way to get Boyd to walk with them, but then Scott starts talking to Boyd about a stray puppy someone brought into the animal clinic the day before. Boyd walks with them all the way to class, even though they don’t actually share this period. Stiles claps his friend on the shoulder, he can always count on Scott.
Stiles is excited for lunch the next day. Not for the “meatballs” they’re serving, but because he’s pretty sure Boyd will be sitting with them again. He didn’t know Boyd knew he existed, so having him sit with them for two days in a row is really bringing Stiles’ hopes up. Maybe there is a chance of him asking Boyd out before senior year.
But when Boyd sits down next to him and he immediately asks where Scott is, Stiles’ hopes plummet.
‘He finally asked Allison to the dance. They’re having a romantic lunch,’ Stiles explains.
‘Oh. Good for him.’ Boyd takes a bit out of his meatball, then looks at it intently. ‘How is it going to be romantic with this kind of food.’
‘Beats me,’ Stiles shrugs. ‘I don’t think they’ll really notice the non-foodness of the food. Too busy making googly eyes at each other.’
Boyd looks like he’s going to say something else, but turns back to his food.
Lunch is almost as awkward as that first time. Except, this time there’s no Scott to fill the silences with. Stiles talks, of course he does, but he doesn’t get much more out of Boyd than the occasional hum. Sometimes Stiles catches Boyd looking at him, and there’s something in that look that makes Stiles’ heart skip a beat and his words flow faster. He’s not sure what to make of it. He decides not to think about it too much. Boyd was here for Scott after all, and Stiles can’t blame him, even if he is more than a little jealous. Scott’s awesome, which is why Stiles picked him as his best friend.
Boyd doesn’t walk with him to class that day, instead he joins his own friends the moment the bell rings. Isaac gives Stiles an expectant look, but before Stiles can ask what he wants, Boyd pulls Isaac away.
After the awkwardness of the lunch, Stiles doesn’t expect Boyd to ever talk to him again, so when he finds the other boy waiting by his car after lacrosse practice, he covertly pinches himself to make sure he’s not dreaming.
‘Hey,’ Boyd says, a tentative smile on his lips. He looks around, probably looking for Scott, and Stiles’ heart sinks for the second time that day.
‘Scott’s mom picked him up,’ Stiles says.
‘Okay,’ Boyd replies, frowning like he’s not sure why that information is relevant at the moment.
Stiles moves forward, expecting Boyd to step aside and let Stiles get to his car, but Boyd doesn’t move. He continues to block the way to the driver’s side door. Stiles doesn’t realize Boyd isn’t moving until they’re almost toe to toe. He has to look up to give Boyd a questioning look. Which isn’t easy when they’re so close. He can smell Boyd’s deodorant and the freshness of his skin from the post-practice shower. Boyd looks down at him, and Stiles can see the hundred different shades of brown in Boyd’s eyes. Stiles doesn’t realize he’s licking his lips until Boyd’s eyes flick down.
‘Uhm, sooo… What’s up?’ Stiles asks, ignoring the fact that his face feels like it’s burning. He’s not stepping back, though. No, Stiles Stilinski has never backed down from a challenge. Even though Boyd doesn’t appear to be challenging him. In fact, Boyd appears to be trying to avoid eye contact as much as Stiles is.
‘The dance,’ Boyd finally says. ‘Would you like to go? With me?’
Stiles’ jaw drops. Did Boyd just— Holy shit! Boyd just asked him to the dance. Boyd isn’t into Scott, he’s into him, Stiles. Beautiful, adorable, smart, sarcastic Boyd, who is looking at him with wide hopeful eyes, just asked him to prom!
‘Yes!’ Stiles shouts, punching a fist in the air.
Boyd breathes out in relief and a grin to rival Stiles’ own, spreads across his face.
‘Well, get your cute butt in the car,’ Stiles laughs, motioning for Boyd to get out of the way so he can get in himself. ‘We have dance date details to discuss.’
Boyd’s eyes widen at the complement, and the blood rushes to Stiles’ head so fast, he feels a little lightheaded.
‘Please forget I said that,’ he begs.
‘Never,’ Boyd grins, then ducks to place a quick kiss to Stiles’ cheek.
‘Or not,’ Stiles agrees.