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Stiles knows who his soulmate is the moment he sees them, since that’s kind of how it works. He’s walking to class while trying to speed-read something the professor sent out the night before. Do profs not think they sleep? Do they think their class is the only one people take?
Stiles looks up from his phone just in time to keep from walking into a lamppost, and his eyes fall on a guy sitting under a tree. The burning sensation of the mark forming on his forearm stops Stiles in his tracks. Stunned, he stares at the man under the tree. He can’t make out much, just the dark hair, reading glasses, and scruff. His shoulders are probably broader than they look, but Stiles can’t be sure with how the man is hunched over a large book.
That’s his soulmate.
What a nerd.
Holy shit, that’s his soulmate.
Stiles steels himself for the first conversation, the all-important first impression, when a large group of freshmen passing by blocks his path to the other man. When the freshmen have passed, his soulmate is gone.
‘Shit. No,’ Stiles groans, looking around desperately, but he has no idea where the guy went, doesn’t even have a shirt colour to track.
Stiles is distracted throughout the rest of the day. He tries to remember any more details about the guy that might help him find him, but dark hair and glasses describes about half the people going here, not counting teachers, visitors, and other personnel.
When he gets home after class, Stiles opens up Facebook. Ten minutes into feverishly, randomly hopping from profile to profile he drops his head on the desk. It’s hopeless. The only other thing he can think of is trying to stake out every optometrist in the area, but his soulmate might not need a new pair of glasses for years.
Scott tumbles into their room, throwing his bag on his bed, and interrupting Stiles’ pity party.
‘Party at the Betas tonight!’ Scott grins.
The parties of the Betas are legendary. Plus, Jackson is vice-president, and Stiles never misses an opportunity to mess with his former high school lacrosse team captain.
‘Can’t.’
‘What? Why not? Dude, you gotta be my wingman!’
‘You and Kira are already dating. You don’t need a wingman anymore,’ Stiles points out.
‘Maybe I just know I’ll have a better time with you there,’ Scott pouts, making his eyes as big as he can.
‘I really can’t,’ Stiles repeats, even though his heart breaks a little at having to deny Scott’s puppy-eyes anything. ‘I saw my soulmate today.’
‘Holy shit! Dude! Can I see the mark?’
Stiles turns up his sleeve, revealing the delicate looking purple flower on his wrist. Scott’s finger hovers over the mark, tracing the lines in the air.
‘I’m so happy for you,’ Scott grins. ‘Now you definitely have to come--and them too. We need to celebrate! And I want to meet them.’
‘So would I.’
Scott frowns in confusion.
‘I saw him, but when I went up to talk to him, a herd of freshmen cut me off,’ Stiles explains. ‘When they were gone, so was he.’
‘Sorry, dude, that sucks. But hey, you know what he looks like, right?’
‘Kind of. I didn’t get a good look at him, because he was sitting in the shade.’
‘How about this? You come with me to the party tonight. We drink, we dance, you get out of your head a little, and me and Kira will help you with your search tomorrow.’
‘Okay fine,’ Stiles relents. But not knowing who exactly his soulmate is, isn’t the only thing that’s been bothering him. ‘Hey, Scott?’
‘Yeah?’
‘What if he wants something I can’t give?’ Stiles asks.
The fear has been gnawing at him since the soulmark appeared on his skin. He’s never really bothered with dating, so he’s never had to tell a partner about his asexuality. And while he doesn’t think he’d have a soulmate who would think less of him for it, the thought that maybe the universe made a mistake and gave him a bad soulmate, won’t leave his head.
‘What if you want something he can’t give?’ Scott counters.
Stiles blinks. He never considered that. He knows soulmates don’t always get a romantic happy ending, that’s not what soulmates are for. Soulmates are people who fit , people who push each other to be the best version of themselves. And even when soulmates do get a romantic relationship it doesn’t always work out. Scott and Allison broke up after only a year, deciding they worked better as friends. Even his own father’s devastation after Stiles’ mother died never stopped Stiles from wanting what they had.
‘Then we’ll be friends,’ he says with certainty.
~
Scott was right, going to the party was a good idea. After dancing with Scott and Kira for a while, Stiles feels less tense and more optimistic. Yes, there are literally thousands of people on campus every day, but he knows a place where his soulmate is likely to be found, which is under that tree. He’ll make sure to go past that tree at least once a day, and at some point his soulmate has to be there again.
Right?
‘I’m gonna get a drink!’ he yells at his friends.
He pushes through the crowd into the direction of the bar, finding another crowd to push through when he gets there. He’s looking for a way in when he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and turns around. There’s a guy leaning against the far wall, half-smile on his lips, and even in the low lights Stiles can see the guy’s eyes moving up and down his body. When his eyes reach Stiles’ again, he raises an eyebrow.
Oh god.
Stiles quickly turns around again. He hates it when this happens. Now he’ll have to evade the guy for the rest of the night. Drunk boys at frat parties don’t usually take rejection well, think it’s an insult to their manhood, or something.
He should’ve just stayed home. He probably gave up on the Facebook search for his soulmate far too soon. As he’s thinking this, the memory of his soulmate and the guy slide over each other, startling Stiles.
It kind of fits? The dark hair, scruffy, similar builds. This guy wasn’t wearing glasses, but maybe he only needs them for reading.
No.
But what if it was him? What if the guy was checking him out because his soulmark appeared when he looked at Stiles?
Stiles turns around, but the guy is gone.
Shit, what if he thinks Stiles rejected him?
He takes off to find his friends. When he finds them and tells them his theory, Scott and Kira instantly agree to help with the search. They look all over the house, but the guy is nowhere to be found.
‘I’m sorry, dude,’ Scott says. ‘But hey, it probably wasn’t him anyway.’
‘You’re probably right,’ Stiles admits. He knows it was a long shot. ‘I’m gonna get some air.’
The backyard is only slightly less crowded than the house. The weather is turning colder, and the few people who are outside are huddled together under the space heaters on the porch.
Rubbing his hands over his arms Stiles steps further into the backyard. The cool and fresh evening air is a pleasure after the heat from inside. And apparently he isn’t the only one who thought so. There’s a couch at the back of the yard, right against the fence, and there’s a man sitting on it. He’s hunched over, staring into a red cup. He’s about to ask the guy if he’s okay, when he recognizes him. It’s the guy from inside.
Stiles’ palms instantly feel clammy, and his throat closes up. Fuck, he’s being ridiculous. He should just talk to the guy. If it turns out he’s not his soulmate, he can just go inside, steal a bottle of tequila, and drown his embarrassment with alcohol.
‘Uhm, hi,’ Stiles says. It comes out squeaky. He quickly clears his throat and repeats, ‘Hi.’
The guy looks up, slightly startled. ‘Hi.’
Stiles can’t be sure but the guy looks hopeful. Maybe?
‘Quick question. How much have you had to drink?’ Stiles asks.
‘Three sips of lukewarm beer. Why?’
‘Because I want to ask you something, and I’d prefer it if you were completely sober.’
The guy’s brows contract in confusion, but he sets his cup on the ground. ‘You wanna sit?’
‘That does make talking a little easier, doesn’t it?’ Stiles laughs nervously. ‘Okay, uhm, so…’ Fuck, now that he’s here, he’s not sure how to start. He definitely can’t keep calling him The Guy, though. ‘First, what’s your name?’
‘Derek,’ he says.
‘Hi, Derek. I’m Stiles. Okay, I’m going to ask you something personal, so don’t be mad.’ He waits for Derek to nod, then says, ‘Remember that you agreed you won’t get mad.’
Derek huffs and rolls his eyes.
‘Can I see your soulmark?’
Derek stiffens, blinks, then reaches for the collar of his henley and pulls it down. Stiles can’t see the purple of the petals in this light, but it’s obviously the same as his.
‘Holy shit,’ Stiles whispers. He pulls his watch off his wrist and holds his arm up for Derek to see.
‘I know. I’ve known for a while. Like, two weeks,’ Derek admits.
‘What? Why didn’t you just come talk to me?’
‘I’m not good with words. Especially with people I don’t know,’ Derek shrugs.
‘Was that why you were trying to seduce me earlier? That was what you were doing, right? With the leaning against the wall and checking me out?’
‘Sort of?’ Derek says, looking away like he’s embarrassed.
‘So you’re not good with words, but you’re good with… actions?’
Derek groans, burying his head in his hands.
‘Does that usually work?’ Stiles can’t stop himself from asking. ‘Just the lean against the wall? People find that sexy?’
Derek removes one hand from his face and turns his head, looking at Stiles with one eye. ‘Sometimes. You don’t?’ he asks.
‘I don’t find anything sexy. I’m asexual,’ Stiles says. He waits for Derek’s reaction with baited breath.
‘I don’t care.’
Stiles curls in on himself and away from Derek.
‘Wait, no that’s not what I meant,’ Derek immediately says, flailing his hands like he wants to pull Stiles closer. ‘I meant it doesn’t matter to me. I mean, it does matter and I do care, but I don’t- It doesn’t make a difference. That’s what I meant. Of course I care. You’re my soulmate. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean- Shit, remember when I said I’m not very good at talking to people I’ve just met?’
Stiles relaxes and huffs out a laugh. He pushes lightly at Derek’s shoulder and says, ‘I hear what you’re trying to say.’
‘Thank god.’
‘So what now?’ Stiles ask. He knows what he wants. Or at least what he wants to try.
‘You want to go dance? Then we can exchange numbers and go for coffee or something tomorrow, and we can talk. It can be a date, or a friend-date.’
Stiles takes Derek’s hand.
‘It’s a date,’ Stiles says.
Derek’s smile is bright and adorable.