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“I need you to be my boyfriend.”
“What.” Stiles narrows his eyes at Derek, not quite believing what he was hearing.
“I mean, I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” Derek huffs, rolling his tense shoulders, a sign that he was uncomfortable.
“Why,” Stiles says. He was in such shock that he was reduced to saying instead of asking, which was something Derek usually did.
“Because I told my family that I finally found someone and now they want to meet that someone over thanksgiving break and they wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“Wait. You told your family you were with someone when you’re not?” Stiles couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A part of him wanted to laugh, and the other part felt like crying. Because he and Derek had been colleagues for three years, and Stiles had been in love with Derek for about two of those years.
And this wasn’t how Stiles imagined being with Derek. And they wouldn’t even really be together.
“Yes,” Derek scowls. “Because I’ve been single for a very long time and they keep asking me if I’ve found someone every single fucking time they call. And I can’t stand it. Because they are meddlesome and persistent and they won’t stop until I’m with someone and settling down. Or at least until they think I am.”
“But…we can’t fake date forever. At one point we’d have to pretend to break up.”
“I know,” Derek sighs as if his life was coming to an end. “And we’d do that, but this will get them off my back for awhile. I’ll just tell them that we broke-up a few months after thanksgiving. We’d only have to pretend for a week, then you can go back to your life. I promise you.”
Stiles sighs, looking down at the papers he’d been grading on his desk. “Why me?”
Derek was silent for so long that Stiles looks up, and sees him biting his lip in thought. Stiles had to bite back a groan of frustration, because Derek looked so damn good, so damn kissable, especially in that moment, and he couldn’t do anything about his stupid desire.
“Because you’re the only one that makes sense.” Derek finally went with.
“What do you mean?” Stiles furrows his brows in confusion.
“Have you seen the other staff members at this school?” Derek huffed. “They’re all either old, married, annoying, or weird as fuck."
"You don’t think I’m annoying?” Stiles found a smile lighting his face. Derek used to tell Stiles he was annoying all the time, mostly in their first year of working together. But apparently he didn’t think that anymore.
“You can be,” Derek smirks. “But for the most part, no. I don’t think you’re annoying. You’re the closest thing I have to a friend in this place.”
Friend. And that’s all Stiles would ever be.
“Uh, you too.” Stiles tries to smile.
Derek smiles back, and it lit up his whole face. And fuck, Stiles is so past gone at this point it wasn’t even funny. “So, can you do this for me, Stiles? Please,” Derek pleads, and then he walks around Stiles’ desk and takes Stiles' hand in his. “Please,” He repeats.
Stiles’ pulse quickens and he has to swallow past the lump in his throat. He's pretty sure the hand Derek was holding was really sweaty and gross at the moment. “Uh, okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll do it,” Stiles says, his voice cracking over his words a little bit from his dry throat.
Derek visibly sighs in relief, leaning forward and hugging Stiles at an awkward angle, the hug itself then becoming awkward, even though it made Stiles freeze and hold his breath at the feeling of Derek’s arms wrapped around him. “Thank you, Stiles. Really. I owe you so much.” Then Derek kisses Stiles on his cheek in thanks and then turns to leave. “I’ll call you about the details and meeting up to practice acting like a couple and stuff,” Derek calls over his shoulder as he's leaving the room.
Stiles feels himself touching the cheek Derek had just kissed like a stupid teenager with his first crush, and could only get out a “yeah, definitely,” before his throat closes up at the tingly feeling Derek’s kiss on his cheek produced.
Stiles was so fucked.