Work Text:
"I'd like you to meet Stiles," Laura said over the phone.
"What?" Was all Derek could muster to say back, because...Stiles? What was a Stiles? He held the phone between his ear and shoulder, cracking an egg on the side of his iron skillet.
"He's someone from work," Laura said haltingly, because...well, she knows why, and Derek was quick to remind her.
"Laur, the last time you set me up with 'someone from work', he ended up taking me out to a Chinese restaurant and flirting with the waiter in Chinese while I sat there thinking he was ordering for us!" He let the egg bubble in the pan.
She sounded embarrassed. "Okay, okay, in hindsight I should have seen that Steve was a bit...flirtatious. But I promise this guy is different! His name is Stiles, and he's Polish."
"Polish? Does he interpret as well?" There was silence over the phone. "Laura?"
"Okay, well, I don't exactly know. I've never spoken to him in anything but his language."
"So you want me to meet someone I may or may not be able to communicate with?" Derek sighed, exasperated. Laura and her endless quest to make him meet new people had just reached an ultimate low.
"I just want you to be nice to him! Welcome him here! This is his first time in LA, and he's a little shy. Anyways, I think he has a boyfriend, so there's no commitment issues for you. I know how you think you're not ready to date."
Derek scowled. "I'm not. Also, if he has a boyfriend, then why do you want me to meet him so badly?"
"He lives in your apartment building! Say hi to him, he has no friends here except his business partner, who I think he's in a relationship with, therefore doesn't count. Also, you're sad and lonely. Don't think I don't know that you're making yourself breakfast for dinner for the fifth time this week. That's a thing only lonely people do."
Derek rolled his eyes and let out a breath, flipping his omelet (guiltily) in the pan. "I assume you already have a plan for me to go over there?"
"Of course I do! You act like you don't know me!" Derek rolled his eyes again. He knew her too well. "There's already a box on your front porch. It's got some work things he has to fill out, along with a DVD copy of Les Mis from their tour in Poland. He's never seen it before, can you believe it? It's a classic!"
"Laura, not everyone can be as well-versed in musicals as you."
"But Les Mis is known everywhere!"
"Laur, what department does this guy even work in?"
"Not sure. I think he was just sent over by another agency, apparently we needed a polish person for something."
"But he speaks no English."
"I don't think so."
"Then why the hell does he work for an interpreting agency?" Derek flipped his omelet off the skillet and onto a plate, cutting it with a plastic knife so it could cool.
"We do more than interpreting. We also collaborate with people around the globe to connect major corporations. Poland probably sent him with a major corp. I'll ask him tomorrow, okay? But today, go over and give him the forms and the DVD."
And because Derek knew he would never be able to get out of it, he sat down heavily in his wooden chair at his wooden table and took a vicious bite of his omelet. "What kind of a name is Stiles?"
"A nickname. His real name is Polish and unpronounceable even to a language goddess such as myself."
Derek thought it over for a few more seconds, realizing he couldn't get off the hook. "Fine. Where does he live?"
"Apartment 3D!"
"Okay. I'll stop by later today. Bye, Laura."
"Thanks Der! He really needs a fr—" he hung up just to show how unhappy he was, but felt bad and sent a text.
Good luck on your quest to find his occupation.
There was no response, and Derek figured that it was her way of telling him off. He just shrugged to himself and took another bite of his egg.
Stiles's apartment was on the top floor, just above Derek's. The apartment complex (if you could call it a complex) was nice, fairly new, and Derek had to appreciate Stiles's taste in apartment ownership. The box wasn't too heavy, but Derek noticed that Laura also included some chocolate chip cookies, which he could slightly smell.
He carried it up to apartment 3D, fumbled with it slightly as he shifted the box to his left hand, and knocked solidly on the door. He could hear some scrambling as someone tried to get to it, then a crash, then a sort of swear word. The door opened a minute later, with a disheveled-looking guy with messy brown hair, pale skin, and a spattering of moles on the other side. His eyes widened when he saw Derek, and his pretty lips dropped open slightly. "Jesteś bardzo przystojny," he murmured.
Derek looked at the guy with wide eyes, unsure. "Um. Hi, I'm Derek. I'm Laura's brother."
The guy's eyebrows scrunched. "Laura?" His voice had a faint lilt to it, the accent not very heavy on his sister's name. Derek took this as encouragement to go on.
"Yes, Laura Hale, from work. I'm Derek Hale. You're Stiles?"
The man still looked confused, but he nodded, smiling a little. "Laura."
"Right. I, uh, have some paperwork and cookies for you?" He handed the box to Stiles, and the man looked down at it with a small frown. Derek could have killed Laura. It didn't look like this guy spoke a lick of English, and she somehow wanted them to become friends?
"Masz ładne oczy," he said, then peeked into the box. "Oh." That was translated throughout any language, and Derek understood his disappointment at it just being work forms. "Dziękuje."
Derek smiled fully, because he knew that dziękuję meant "thank you." "You're welcome."
Stiles looked dazed again. His long fingers gripped the side of the door. "Chciałbym, żeby nasze dzieci miały Twoje oczy," he stated matter-of-factly, then stepped inside with a weak smile and shut himself inside. "Dziékuje!" He shouted through the door. Derek stood startled for a moment, then nodded and walked away. Were all Polish people that brisk? If so, he might have a problem becoming friends with this guy, and that wasn't even factoring in the language barrier.
"Laura, I'm going to kill you," he promised himself before he went to bed. And for some reason, he couldn't stop thinking about Stiles.
The next time Derek saw Stiles, the man was struggling with a rather obscene painting. He was clamoring up the staircase of their apartment building with the large painting, juggling it from hand to hand. "Can I help?" Derek asked, and Stiles seemed to understand enough to nod frantically, grunting a bit as Derek took one side of the painting from him. Their hands brushed and Derek pulled away to the far side of the painting. "Sorry," he murmured, beginning to climb.
"Mój drogi, marzę o twoim dotyku," Stiles mumbled back, cheeks slightly pink. They got the painting into Stiles's apartment (the thing was literally a bunch of naked people with wings), and Derek gave his neighbor an aborted wave.
"God, I'm so awkward at this stuff. And you're just so pretty. I guess...bye? No problem? Happy to help and have another reason to stare at you, even if it's to help you lug around a sexual painting and you can't understand what I'm saying? Uh, bye," Derek mumbled his monologue to a confused-looking but still smiling Stiles, then rushed out as Stiles was saying something to his back.
"Oh, Kręcisz mnie."
Upon Laura's insistence, Derek helped Stiles paint his apartment the following Saturday. The man had chosen an outlandish orange for his bedrooms, a nice brown for his wide living area, a bluish green for his bathroom, and a yellow and red theme for his kitchen. They were on the bedroom, and Derek was trying to follow along with Stiles's instructions. It was going fairly well when you took into account the fact that they couldn't understand each other.
"Śniłeś mi się tej nocy," Stiles said conversationally, pulling his roller from the paint tray and spreading it on the wall.
"Um," Derek said back intelligently.
"Siedzieliśmy na moim łóżku i rozmawialiśmy. Po angielsku! A potem robiliśmy więcej niż mówienie...." He sighed. "Żałuję, że wpakowałem się w tę sytuację." Stiles just rambled, unaware that Derek was staring blankly at him.
"I...still don't know what you're saying." Derek was frustrated. Here was this really pretty man who was talking and smiling and teasing with Derek, and he couldn't even attentively listen to something the man was saying to him!
Stiles sighed again and looked sad. "Wiem. Chciałbym się z tobą umówić, ale nie mogę. I to moja wina."
"We can work this out," Derek said with a fake confidence. "I mean, you're here for a while, right?" He asked, fully aware that the polish man in front of him wouldn't be able to answer. "And I have a sister who speaks fluent polish. I can learn it. Until then, we can use translation sites and dictionaries. We can...I dunno, date. We can do all that stuff. It can't be that hard, can it?" Derek looked desperately at the polish man, who was staring at him with his perfect lips hanging slightly open, a star-struck look in his eyes. Derek felt his pants tighten with anticipation, and honestly if he had to go one more minute without touching Stiles it might've been enough to kill him.
"Wyjdź za mnie," Stiles mumbled, then blinked hard and chewed his bottom lip contemplatively. Derek watched as his face contorted nervously, sweat visibly appearing on his top lip. "Okay-don't-be-mad-but-you-were-really-hot-and-disheveled-when-you-came-to-my-doorstep-and-I-was-so-surprised-I-said-something-super-embarrassing-but-it-was-in-polish-and-suddenly-you-thought-I-only-spoke-polish-and-when-I-told-Laura-she-cried-laughing-and-then-it-became-a-thing-but-you're-so-cute-and-perfect-and-what-you-just-said-was-so-romantic-and-please-don't-be-mad-I—"
"You can speak English?" Derek cut through the ramble, dumbfounded.
Stiles swallowed, his long neck bobbing, and nodded. "Yeah. I was born in Poland, raised in California. I'm fluent in both languages."
"I...what?" Derek was barely able to hold onto his roller.
"I'm so sorry! You were just so dead-set on me being foreign, and you were so adorable. I...I panicked. I really just want to go on a date with you and kiss you and—" Stiles was cut off by Derek's mouth being pressed against his, the stubble scratching his cheek roughly. They pulled apart hesitantly. "So you're not mad?"
"Oh I'm mad," Derek sized up, then deflated and brushed a hand against Stiles's cheek, "but I'm mostly relieved I won't have to learn polish just to date you."
Stiles laughed gaily. "I never said that! You're totally going to have to learn some polish if you want to date me!"
And five years later, Derek demonstrated his newly-honed bilingual talents by getting down on one knee and asking, "Wyjdź za mnie?"
Three months and one hastily-planned wedding after that, Stiles answered with, "I do."
Polish Translations
Jesteś bardzo przystojny: You are a very handsome man
Masz ładne oczy: Your eyes are beautiful.
Dziękuje: Thank you!
Chciałbym, żeby nasze dzieci miały Twoje oczy: I want our children to have your eyes.
Mój drogi, marzę o twoim dotyku: My dear, I dream of your touch.
Oh, Kręcisz mnie: oh, I have a crush on you.
Śniłeś mi się tej nocy: I was dreaming about you last night
Siedzieliśmy na moim łóżku i rozmawialiśmy. Po angielsku! A potem robiliśmy więcej niż mówienie...Żałuję, że wpakowałem się w tę sytuację: We were sitting on my bed and talking. In English! And then we were doing more than talking....I wish I hadn't gotten myself into this situation.
Wiem. Chciałbym się z tobą umówić, ale nie mogę. I to moja wina: I know. I want to ask you out; unfortunately, I cannot be with you. And that's on me.
Wyjdź za mnie.: Marry me