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They all assumed that between living in the burnt out house and then the train depot, Derek had no idea about currently popular TV shows. No one from the pack looked at the possibility that Derek may have actually had a regular life in New York, that he had personal favorites, that he would have binge watched shows the same way the rest of them did.
So when Stiles was setting up the TV and consoles in the pack’s hangout -- Derek offered the loft when he renovated another apartment in the building for himself -- he was surprised to find that Derek’s email was already in use.
“Yo, sourwolf, what’s your Netflix password?” Stiles asked, trying to sound innocently curious.
“Why?” Derek shot back from across the room where he was finally fixing the broken wall beside the bathroom.
“I was going to set an account up, but your email’s already in use,” Stiles explained, and he glanced up from the cables on the floor.
“Well, yeah, Laura used my email in New York, and I kept it going on my phone since then. It’s multi-user, wait,” Derek walked over and typed in the password.
“Whoa,” Stiles stared at the screen as the account loaded. “That’s quite a lot of stuff in your list.”
“What, did you think I lived in a cave? It was New York,” Derek grumbled, looking at the screen. “And I did have my phone since then anyway.”
“Well…”
Derek frowned further, but didn’t comment on Stiles’ almost-admission of his assumptions about Derek’s lack of awareness of popular media. Instead, they both went back to what they were doing - Stiles trying to untangle the cables and plug everything in, Derek fixing the wall.
Once the TV was set up and everything connected, Stiles fell on the couch and started scrolling through the list on Derek’s Netflix again. He snickered a few times at the sight of some things he would never have expected, nodded at others he very much approved of, and then he froze when he accidentally looked at the profiles.
“Laura had her own,” Derek spoke from behind Stiles’ back.
“Oh man, why do you keep doing that?” Stiles said, catching his breath.
“Too easy,” Derek smirked. “But yeah, I haven’t looked at her account, not since… New York, actually.”
“Impressive watch list here,” Stiles nodded as he clicked at Derek’s viewing activity again. “Man, I miss some of these,” he said, scrolling down.
Derek swung over the back of the couch and sat down next to Stiles.
“It’s been a while since I saw those,” he admitted when Stiles scrolled further down. “And I don’t know any of the more recent stuff.”
“What do you have planned tonight?” Stiles asked, eyes still glued on the screen.
They ended up watching a show Stiles never heard of, but one Derek said was his and Laura’s favorite. After that, Netflix nights became a thing for them, especially when Stiles found out that Derek was a Trekkie, and insisted that a Star Wars marathon was in order. He did, however, bring his own DVDs for that one.
Several weeks later, something shifted in the way they watched. It started with Stiles falling asleep and his head landing on Derek’s shoulder. From there, they progressed surprisingly easily to what could have only been called cuddling on the couch.
The first kiss didn’t happen during one of those nights. It came when Stiles came back to the loft after barely making it out of another “bump in the night” situation when Derek had been on the other side of town. Stiles was just about to wash off the gunk that covered his clothes after the fight when Derek rushed in the door and pressed him against the nearest wall.
“I’m okay,” Stiles whispered, immediately recognising the panicky expression in Derek’s face. “I’m good, we all made it.”
“Don’t… fuck, don’t ever do that again,” Derek breathed out. “I couldn’t… the call just cut off and I didn’t know…”
“Hey, I’m fine,” Stiles tried to reassure. “Well, I’m filthy and tired, but I’m good. Der, look at me.”
Derek’s eyes were wide and his breathing shaky as he lifted his head to meet Stiles’ eyes. Both of them moved at the same time then, closing the gap between them and crashing their lips together. Stiles winced a little at that, his bottom lip achy from where he split it earlier in the night, and Derek immediately moved away.
“Oh no you don’t,” Stiles said and pulled Derek back, the kiss growing deeper.
“Okay,” Derek said breathlessly a little while later, when Stiles finally let go. “You need to clean up, you smell like…”
“Yeah no, I don’t want to know,” Stiles said, cringing. “You gonna get Netflix going?”
Derek smirked and nodded, knowing that they were in the middle of a Star Trek marathon, and that Stiles was still insisting with every episode that he was betraying Star Wars.
“Oh don’t give me that look,” Stiles grumbled. “I know what we’re watching.”
“We could just chill instead,” Derek said, and the smirk was still on his face, accompanied by a lifted eyebrow.
Stiles’ mouth fell open, and he almost asked how familiar Derek was with internet slang, but the sparkle in Derek’s eyes told him enough.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, stumbling in his rush to get to the bathroom. “Don’t start without me.”
It had become their thing on the movie and TV nights, to remind the other to wait, no matter how much of a cliffhanger the last episode they’d watched had been. Now though, Stiles knew as soon as he said the words, that he wouldn’t mind if Derek broke that one rule. Still, he cleaned up faster than ever before, and almost ran back to the couch, where Derek was waiting.