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Stiles had learned a lot of strange things about Derek Hale over the years.
Derek liked sour gummy worms. Derek secretly watched cooking competitions. Derek knew how to fix almost anything with an engine. Derek had an unhealthy obsession with perfectly folded towels.
But absolutely none of those discoveries prepared him for what he was witnessing right now.
Stiles stood frozen near the entrance of the Beacon Hills Community Center, staring. Just...staring.
The annual town fundraiser was in full swing. Music filled the large ballroom. Strings of lights hung from the ceiling. Round tables crowded the edges of the room while various townspeople mingled, danced, and donated money to whatever cause the town council had decided was important this year.
Stiles hadn't really paid attention because Derek Hale was dancing. And not just dancing. Dancing.
Chris Argent had apparently dragged him onto the floor during some charity demonstration featuring ballroom dancing. A professional instructor had been hired to entertain guests and teach basic steps.
Most people looked awkward. Some looked downright terrible. Sheriff Stilinski had nearly tripped over Melissa McCall. Peter had somehow managed to flirt with three women and one man while dancing with none of them. Even Lydia looked mildly challenged.
But Derek? Derek looked like he'd stepped out of a movie. His posture was perfect. His movements smooth. Effortless.
The instructor guided him through a complicated sequence and Derek followed every step flawlessly.
Turn. Step. Spin. Dip.
Like he'd been doing it his entire life.
"What the hell?"
Scott appeared beside Stiles holding a plate of mini quiches. "What?"
Stiles pointed, wordlessly.
Scott looked toward the dance floor. "Oh."
"Oh?" Stiles repeated. "OH? That's your response?"
Scott blinked. "What?"
"Scott."
"Yeah?"
"My boyfriend is dancing."
"I can see that."
"LIKE THAT."
Scott finally focused. "Oh."
"THANK YOU."
Scott chewed thoughtfully. "Yeah, he's pretty good."
"Pretty good?" Stiles looked personally offended. "Scott, if he gets any better, women are going to start throwing themselves directly at his face...and probably other parts!"
Scott considered. "Probably."
"Dude!"
"What?"
Stiles grabbed Scott's shoulders. "When were you going to tell me Derek apparently moonlights as a Disney prince?"
"I didn't know?"
Stiles stared. Scott shrugged helplessly. Across the room, Derek guided his dance partner through another turn.
The woman laughed. Derek actually smiled. The room collectively seemed to forget how breathing worked. Stiles included.
"Okay." He swallowed. "That's unfair."
"What is?"
"That."
Scott looked again. "Oh."
"Stop saying 'oh'!"
"I'm agreeing with you!"
Before Stiles could continue his suffering, the song ended. Polite applause followed. The instructor thanked everyone for participating. People began drifting back toward tables. Derek headed for the refreshment area. Stiles immediately intercepted him.
Derek saw him coming and sighed. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" Stiles echoed.
"Yes."
Stiles pointed dramatically. "What was THAT?"
Derek frowned. "Dancing."
"I KNOW IT WAS DANCING."
"Then why are you asking?"
Stiles looked around for support. (Found none.) "Derek."
"What?"
"Since when can you dance?"
Derek grabbed a bottle of water. "Took lessons."
Stiles blinked. "You took lessons?"
"Yes."
"You?"
"Yes."
"Derek Hale."
Derek's eye twitched. "There are not many Dereks Hale."
Stiles ignored that. "When?"
"When I was younger."
"Why?"
Derek unscrewed the bottle and took a drink. Then, to Stiles' complete surprise, a smirk appeared. "You can thank my uncle."
Stiles immediately groaned, loudly. "Ugh, of course."
Derek laughed. That nearly killed Stiles more than the dancing. "What does Peter have to do with it?"
Derek leaned against the refreshment table. "He insisted."
"Why?"
"Because Peter insists on weird things."
(Fair.) But still. Stiles needed details. "Explain."
Derek sighed dramatically. The expression suggested he knew exactly what would happen if he didn't. Stiles would never stop asking. "When I was eleven, Peter decided that every Hale should know how to dance."
Stiles barked a laugh. "I'm sorry."
Derek looked annoyed. "What?"
"I'm trying to imagine Peter saying that with a straight face."
"He absolutely did."
"Oh my God."
Derek rolled his eyes. "'A Hale should know how to carry themselves in any situation.'"
The impression sounded alarmingly accurate. Stiles nearly choked laughing. "No."
"Yes."
"That's ridiculous."
"It gets worse."
"Oh, good."
Derek looked resigned. "He enrolled me, Cora and Laura in ballroom classes."
Stiles stared. Then immediately lost the battle against laughter. "Derek."
"Don't."
"DEREK."
"Stop."
"You took ballroom."
Derek glared. "It was mandatory."
"Oh my God."
"I hated it."
"You hated it?"
"Yes."
"And now you're the human equivalent of a romantic fantasy novel cover."
Derek looked genuinely offended. "What does that even mean?"
"It means men and women are writing fanfiction about you right now."
"No they aren't."
"They absolutely will."
Derek pinched the bridge of his nose.
Nearby, Peter suddenly appeared. As if summoned by the mention of his name. (Which honestly felt possible.) "Were my ears burning?"
"Go away," Derek said immediately.
Peter looked delighted. "Absolutely not."
Stiles pointed accusingly. "You."
Peter placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "Me?"
"You made Derek take dance lessons?"
Peter looked proud. "Of course."
"WHY?"
Peter stared as though the answer should be obvious. "Because civilization exists."
Stiles blinked. Peter continued. "A proper Hale should know how to dance."
Derek groaned. "There it is."
Peter ignored him. "Besides, I had already suffered through years of lessons. It seemed unfair for my nieces and nephew to escape."
Stiles stared. "You took dance lessons?"
Peter looked offended. "Stiles."
"What?"
"I'm gorgeous."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer required."
(Unfortunately... It kinda was)
Peter smirked. "I was excellent."
"You would say that."
"I was."
Derek muttered, "He's annoyingly right."
Stiles looked between them. Then realization struck. "Oh no."
"What?" Derek asked.
Peter immediately looked interested. "Oh, this should be good."
Stiles pointed between them. "You can both dance."
Peter grinned while Derek's eyes narrowed. "Stiles."
"You can BOTH dance."
"Don't."
"You've danced together."
Peter burst out laughing. Derek closed his eyes. The silence confirmed everything.
Stiles gasped. "YOU HAVE."
"It was years ago."
"You have!"
"It doesn't count."
"It absolutely counts!"
Peter was enjoying this far too much. "Derek stepped on my foot learning."
"Once."
"Three times."
"Once."
"Three."
"Peter."
Stiles looked like Christmas had arrived early. "Oh my God."
Derek looked ready to leave the state. "I was a teenager."
"I don't care."
"It was a family event."
"I care even less."
Peter wiped tears from his eyes. "He cried after the first lesson."
"I WAS ELEVEN."
"You still cried."
"I was a child!"
"Still."
Stiles was laughing so hard he nearly fell over. Derek looked betrayed by the universe. "Why am I surrounded by horrible people?"
"Because you're pretty," Peter answered.
"Go away."
"No."But eventually Peter wandered off toward the bar to terrorize someone else.
Leaving Derek and Stiles alone. For a moment they simply stood together. The next song began. Something slower. People drifted back toward the dance floor. Couples gathered beneath the lights. The atmosphere changed. More intimate. Stiles watched them. Then glanced at Derek. Then back at the floor. Then at Derek again. An idea formed.
Possibly stupid which meant he was going to say it. "So."
Derek immediately looked suspicious. "No."
"I haven't asked anything yet."
"No."
"You don't know."
"I do."
"You don't."
"I do."
Stiles grinned. "Please?"
Derek sighed. "Absolutely not."
"Come on."
"No."
"One dance."
"No."
"Pretty please."
"No."
"Derek."
"No."
"Der-bear."
"No."
"SourWolf."
Derek stared. Stiles stared back. Finally Derek groaned. The sound suggested physical pain. "You are unbearable."
"I've been told."
"Repeatedly."
"By you."
Derek cursed quietly. Then held out his hand.
Stiles froze. "...Really?"
Derek looked annoyed. "You wanted a dance."
"I mean, yeah, but I didn't think —"
"Take the hand, Stiles."
Stiles immediately took the hand. Derek led him toward the dance floor. His brain stopped functioning somewhere around the halfway point. People noticed.
This was Beacon Hills. Gossip spread faster than wildfire. Lydia raised an eyebrow. Scott nearly dropped another quiche. Sheriff Stilinski looked delighted. Peter looked like Christmas had arrived.
Stiles ignored all of them. Mostly because Derek's hand was warm....and because Derek had just placed a hand on his waist so breathing had suddenly become complicated.
"Relax."
"I'm relaxed."
"You look terrified."
"I'm having a normal amount of panic."
Derek snorted. The music continued - slow and steady. Derek guided him effortlessly.
Step. Turn. Shift. Move.
Stiles stumbled. Derek caught him immediately. Naturally.
"Sorry."
"Stop apologizing."
"I stepped on you."
"You've only done it twice."
"TWICE?"
"That's not bad."
"Not bad?"
"I stepped on Peter more."
Stiles laughed. The tension eased. Enough that he started following Derek's lead. Enough that he stopped thinking about where his feet were. Enough that he looked up and found Derek already looking at him.
The noise of the room faded. The music remained....and Derek. And the ridiculous realization that Derek Hale could apparently do everything.
Fight. Protect. Fix things. Look annoyingly attractive in flannel. And dance. Of course he could dance. Because life wasn't fair.
Derek's expression softened. "You've stopped stepping on me."
"Don't jinx it."
A faint smile appeared. Stiles felt his stomach do something embarrassing. "Derek?"
"Hm?"
"You're showing off."
"I'm literally teaching you."
"Showing off."
"I'm not."
"You absolutely are."
Derek's smile widened slightly. "Maybe a little."
"There it is."
"There what is?"
"The ego."
Derek laughed quietly. And somehow that was worse than the dancing. Because Stiles could handle being surprised. He could handle being impressed. What he couldn't handle was Derek looking genuinely happy.
Happy and comfortable with him.
The song continued for another minute. Neither seemed in a hurry for it to end. Eventually the music faded. Scattered applause followed. People began moving away again. But for a moment neither Derek nor Stiles stepped back. Hands still connected, looking at each other.
Then Peter's voice rang across the room. "Look at that. My investment finally paid off."
Derek immediately released Stiles. Stiles burst out laughing. Peter looked unbearably smug.
Stiles couldn't even argue. Because somewhere in the distant past, Peter Hale had apparently decided dance lessons were important and now Stiles had spent an entire song discovering that Derek Hale could dance like a dream.
A horrifying, wonderful... very distracting dream.
One that Stiles suspected he'd be thinking about for a very, very long time.