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He was severely tempted to throw his phone out the window. The base of the building seemed like a good place for his phone right now, and the urge to separate it from a recognizable piece of technology was steadily growing more and more as time passed.
It went off. Two seconds later, it went off again. Not even one second later, it went off again. He would forever rue the day he had allowed that absolutely infuriating human to steal his phone so he could text himself to have his number, because now he was stuck with the annoying thing texting him incessantly.
Bad day in class? He got a text. Ate something funky? He got a text. Saw a cloud that looked like a dick? He got a text!
He was tired of the texting, and tired of the useless chatter, and so, so tired of hearing his fucking phone ding!
When it went off for what had to be the twentieth time in as many seconds, Derek Hale jerked to his feet as he pulled it from his pocket and headed for the balcony, fully intending to throw the damn thing across the fucking town.
Throwing open his door, he stepped outside, and had just seriously contemplated dropping his phone over the side when he heard someone speak.
“Fucking finally! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting out here?!”
The sound made him actually almost stumble, he stopped so abruptly, and he paused for half a second before looking over the side of his balcony. While his guest wasn’t speaking loudly, it was easy for him to hear given his heightened senses, much as he wished he couldn’t hear him.
“What are you doing here?” Derek demanded.
“What?”
He so wasn’t in the mood for this. No way was he shouting because the human’s puny human ears wouldn’t hear him, and honestly, he didn’t even care why he was there. He had a lock on his door for a reason, and it was to deter uninvited guests.
“Come on, we’re already late!” Stiles Stilinski waved one hand insistently at him, motioning for him to come down.
Derek just stared at him, wondering what the fuck he was talking about. Late for what? Derek wasn’t late for anything, he was spending his evening alone at home watching TV. He had no plans with the moron down below, because he refused to spend any time with him unless one of them was dying. So, he just turned without a word, re-entered his apartment, and shut his balcony door.
He’d made it only two steps before he froze, his phone beeping again. Right, he’d gone outside to throw it across the fucking planet, but had gotten distracted by the idiot who was currently blowing up his phone.
Looking down at it, he saw a string of texts from Stiles—who was listed in his phone as ‘Captain Awesome’ because Stiles was the one to program himself in. All the texts he could see were just repeats of his name, and even as he stared, more of them were coming in, his phone beeping each time.
Turning quickly, he moved back to the balcony and wrenched the door open, looking down at Stiles once more. He was looking at his phone, seemingly busy texting him, and didn’t notice he’d returned to the balcony.
“Go home,” Derek snapped, making sure his voice carried enough that Stiles would hear him.
He did, considering he looked up then, but he just motioned Derek to come down once more.
“Dude, come on! We’re late! Everyone’s already there and the trailers are gonna start soon!”
Did his car break down or something? Was he expecting a ride from him?
“That’s not my problem.”
“Uh, kind of is!” Stiles argued. “We’re gonna miss the beginning of the movie, and won’t know what’s going on. Hurry up, let’s go!” He motioned him down yet again, and Derek scowled.
“Why do you keep saying ‘we’ as if I have any intention of going anywhere with you?”
“Because you are coming to this movie, or I will stay out here all night screaming.”
Derek stared at him for a long while, contemplating the veracity of that statement, but clearly Stiles was not one to be underestimated because not even ten seconds later, he inhaled deeply and began to scream. Not even words, no, just a straight-up scream.
Honestly, Derek was impressed with his lung capacity, because he kept it going on one breath for a while before inhaling deeply and screaming again.
“How long do you think you can keep that up?” Derek demanded, unimpressed. Stiles just motioned his ears, suggesting—or pretending—he couldn’t hear him.
He was sure Stiles would grow bored of this eventually, or just get tired and leave, but Derek stayed on his balcony for at least two minutes with no signs Stiles would stop. Turning when he neared the three minute mark, he went back inside and shut the door.
Stiles was still clear as day.
Turning on the TV, he raised the volume and fell back onto his couch, but even as the noise from outside diminished some, he felt his entire body tense when his phone went off yet again.
He was not going to find a moment of peace, he could feel it. Even if he turned his phone off—which he wouldn’t do, because monsters might attack and he needed to be reachable, which also meant he couldn’t throw his phone away—Stiles was still out there screaming like a lost child.
It took him exactly seven minutes to decide he would rather go downstairs to murder Stiles than stay in this apartment another second listening to him screech like a fucking exotic bird.
Jerking to his feet, he stormed towards the loft door and wrenched it open. Sliding it shut behind himself, he moved quickly down the stairs to the door, unlocked all the deadbolts, and threw it open, eyes bleeding red as they found Stiles.
The second they locked eyes, Stiles stopped screaming.
“Thank God, we’re really late now, let’s go.” He motioned for Derek to hurry up and follow, and then went to wait beside the Camaro.
Like he was expecting a ride or something.
“I only came down here to rip your throat out,” Derek informed him.
“Yeah, yeah, big scary Alpha, much grr, so fear, let’s go.” Stiles patted the top of the Camaro twice and then motioned him along.
Derek just stared at him for that, because Stiles was such a fucking enigma most of the time, and he wasn’t sure how to react.
When they’d first met, Stiles had been terrified of him. His little rabbit heart would pound something fierce whenever he was anywhere near him, and he often hurried to put multiple bodies between them whenever Derek was angry.
The last four months though, Derek had noticed him acting—not weird, but different. Like Derek didn’t scare him anymore, and he had no idea why things had changed. Stiles had become an annoying rock in his shoe that he couldn’t shake loose, showing up at all hours of the day and night for no reason other than to chat. He texted him constantly about absolutely nothing, and often ambushed him any time he left the loft for any period of time—usually just groceries.
It was like having a persistent stalker who was more obnoxious than anything else. He was just there, constantly making himself known and forcing Derek into awkward conversations he didn’t want to be a part of.
Derek hated him.
“Chop, chop, big guy!” Stiles clapped his hands together. “We’re already missing enough, let’s get going.”
Considering he had no doubts Stiles would not leave without Derek, and probably would scream outside his window all night, Derek decided the best course of action was to go with him and put the fear of Werewolves back into his heart so he never came by again.
Really, he never wanted to see him again. He hated Stiles so much, and didn’t want him anywhere near him. Why couldn’t they go back to Stiles being scared of him? What had changed? This was the worst.
He just wanted to hate Stiles! He wanted to hate him so fucking badly!
Slamming the building’s door shut violently behind him, he turned to lock up and then stalked angrily towards the Camaro, unsure if he was angrier at himself, or Stiles. The human, for his part, just beamed at him as he waited for the doors to unlock, and then climbed in quickly before Derek had even reached the car. Evidently he was worried about being left behind.
Which Derek absolutely would’ve done, except Stiles’ Jeep was parked right in his line of sight, so the annoying child would just follow him.
Not that he was a child, since Stiles was literally a year and a half younger than him, but still! How was it Derek had survived two siblings, and yet neither of them had been as annoying in ten years of life as Stiles could be in ten fucking minutes?! It had to be some kind of magical power.
“Onward!” Stiles said excitedly as Derek started the car. “We’re heading for the theatre!”
“Why?” Derek demanded, even as he turned the wheel and eased them out of the lot and onto the main road leading out of the preserve.
“Uh, to watch a movie, obviously.”
“And why am I being dragged along?” Derek asked impatiently.
“Because I invited you,” Stiles informed him with a brilliant smile. “It’s okay, I know you don’t check your phone much so I bought you a ticket before you confirmed you were coming.”
“I wasn’t coming,” Derek insisted, turning to glare at him. Stiles just waved one hand in easy dismissal.
“You say that now, but we both know you love spending time with all of us. Especially me. I’m your favourite.”
When Derek opened his mouth to refute that vehemently, Stiles’ hand landed on it hard, stopping him from getting any words out. He was so surprised at the action that he momentarily lost his train of thought.
“Sh, it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. As Alpha, I know you need to keep up appearances, but it’s okay. It’s our secret, I won’t tell anyone.”
He gave an over-exaggerated wink, and was smart enough to know he’d risked his hand long enough, pulling it away from Derek’s face.
Derek could still feel its warmth against his lips, and for the briefest of moments, the closet creaked. The second he realized it, Derek immediately throttled the feeling, shoving it violently into the chest he kept locked in the back of his mind, wrapped in chains and buried deep in the far end of a closet that he’d long ago filled with cement before nailing the door shut.
The closet had no fucking right to creak like that with all the countermeasures Derek had in place!
“Don’t invite me places,” Derek snapped instead, bringing his own hand up to rub the feel of Stiles’ fingers from his mouth. “My mother had to have a cesarean with me. I didn’t want to come out then, and I certainly don’t want to now!”
For a few seconds, Stiles said nothing. It was silent for so long that he turned to look over at Stiles, who was staring at him with the most unimpressed expression on his face.
“You’re so dramatic,” Stiles informed him. “We’re just going to a movie, Derek, I didn’t ask you to come out to an orgy.”
“You might as well have.”
“Okay Drama King,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes so hard his head went with them. “Sorry the Pack likes spending time with their Alpha, I’ll be sure to let them all know that you’re far too busy and important to watch a movie with all of us.”
Derek scowled at that, mostly because it wasn’t true. Derek liked doing things with the Pack, he did, but he didn’t like being around Stiles.
Stiles was the problem. Because the last human he’d trusted had murdered his whole family and turned his uncle into a murdering psychopath. He didn’t want to be dealing with that a second time because he couldn’t control his feelings.
It didn’t matter that Scott was Stiles’ best friend, or that Stiles had been there for Derek time and again when he was in trouble, or that he’d literally been ready to cut off his arm to save his life despite the trauma that would surely cause him.
He didn’t trust this, he didn’t trust him, he didn’t!
He also told his traitorous heart to shut the fuck up and go hang out in the closet with the rest of his dumb feelings about Stiles when said individual perked up as they turned into the parking lot of the theatre.
“Nice! We made it in time for snacks!” He threw open his door the second the Camaro stopped and scrambled out, Derek scowling at his back.
“What happened to, ‘we’re late, oh my God, we have to go now’?” Derek demanded as he followed suit and slammed his door.
Stiles turned to give him a look. “Please. A fucking dramatic Sourwolf like you? I knew it’d take more than twenty minutes to get you down here, I planned ahead. I didn’t want the Pack to get here and find their Alpha missing, that’d be depressing for them.”
Derek stared at his back as Stiles practically skipped towards the door, muttering excitedly to himself about the treats he was planning to buy. He seemed indecisive, since he’d say one thing, and then switch to another.
When they got to the doors, Stiles held it open for Derek, doing a fake bow and motioning him in. Derek scowled at him but obeyed, Stiles moving up behind him. He expected them to wait off to the side for the rest of the Pack to show up, but Stiles moved right up to the ticket booth while pulling out his phone and held it out for the guy to scan.
“He’s with me,” Stiles said, thumbing over his shoulder at Derek.
The guy looked surprised, and Derek scowled at him, because it was suggesting that Stiles wasn’t good enough for Derek. That irked him, for some reason, because annoying as Stiles was, he was actually a nice person and he was cute!
Adorable, even! What was this guy’s problem?
As if to prove his point, Derek moved up beside Stiles and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him so aggressively into his side that the other man stumbled. Derek gave the guy at the ticket booth a mean smile and he hastily looked away.
Derek might have preened a bit as he moved further into the large open space, looking around for threats.
Stiles said nothing beside him, which would normally be weird, but Derek also acknowledged he’d probably short-circuited his brain by touching him, since Derek was very anti-touch.
Mostly. Depended on the person.
When he was sure no one was paying any attention to them, Derek let his arm slide off Stiles’ shoulders and motioned back the way they’d come.
“How are the others getting in if you’re in here already?”
Stiles stared up at him with his lips slightly parted, and Derek scowled before reaching out to force his mouth shut. He didn’t need any temptations, even though he absolutely did not like this moron.
Absolutely not.
“What?” Stiles asked, startled by the forced jerk of his chin.
“The others. How are they getting in?”
“Uh, with tickets?” Stiles tilted his head, seeming confused.
“Which you have.” Was he stupid or just brain-damaged? He’d literally told Derek he’d bought their tickets, and had clearly just used two of them to get them in here.
“What? Oh, no. I only bought your ticket, everyone else got their own.”
What?
“But don’t worry! We’re all sitting together, we made sure to get seats beside each other so it’s all good. You hungry? I’m gonna get some popcorn and some chocolate. Maybe Twizzlers too. Oh, sick, they have real nachos here, what?!” And Stiles was off like a shot past him, heading towards the concession stand and beginning to rattle off his order a mile a minute.
Derek turned slowly to watch him, his brain trying to comprehend what Stiles had said. If everyone had bought their own tickets, it meant that if Derek hadn’t gotten bullied into coming out tonight, Stiles—arguably the one with the least money out of all of them—would’ve bought a second ticket for nothing.
He’d been prepared to lose money for this outing just on the off-chance that he could convince Derek to actually come and spend time with the Pack. He could’ve just cut his losses and come out alone with the others, but he hadn’t. He’d been determined to drag Derek along so they could do some kind of Pack bonding over a movie.
“Oh shit,” a voice said loudly, and Derek turned to find Isaac, Erica and Boyd walking towards him, the first two beaming at him while Boyd offered a small nod. “Wait, Stilinski actually got you to come out? No way!”
“Told you,” Erica insisted, nudging Isaac. “I knew he could do it. Stiles could annoy the Pope into Satanism. Annoying Derek into coming to see a movie is light work for him.”
“Pretty sure that’s an exaggeration,” Boyd countered, wrapping an arm around Erica’s shoulders, but he seemed content. Happy, even. “Glad you made it.”
“Yeah,” Derek said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He tensed when Stiles appeared beside him again, bags of chocolate and candy stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie and a giant bucket of popcorn in his hands.
“Hey guys!”
“Stiles. I’m impressed,” Boyd admitted, motioning Derek with a small nod. “How’d you manage that?”
“What do you mean? He wanted to come.” Stiles shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “He likes spending time with you guys, it’s me he barely tolerates, but I promised to behave and leave him alone during the movie, so here he is.”
Derek glanced over at him for that easy lie, not hearing even a hint of it in his heartbeat. Stiles had gotten really good at lying to Werewolves over the past few months.
But he didn’t focus on that for long, because he got distracted with how happy his Betas were when they heard that. Even Boyd smiled, seeming pleased to hear Derek wanted to spend time with them.
He said nothing as the others all chatted, waiting on the last of their group to arrive, and once everyone was there, they headed into the theatre together. It was mostly empty, and while they had assigned seating, they didn’t have to stick to it as long as they stayed within the group of seats they’d selected overall.
When Stiles motioned to Scott that he would take the far seat in the middle so that he was far away from Derek, who preferred the outside seat, Derek reached out and lightly touched his wrist before Stiles could start down the row.
Stiles turned to him, looking absolutely fucking ridiculous with a Twizzler hanging from between his lips, his eyebrows up in silent inquiry.
Derek didn’t know what to say in response to that, turning to glance at the screen for inspiration. “I don’t know this movie series,” he finally said, the lie hanging between them. He kept his face neutral, even as he winced internally.
Stiles had been to the loft, he knew Derek had the entire series. It was honestly probably why he’d chosen this movie, since he was positive that Scott hadn’t watched any of them, but was just there for the company.
Isaac was looking between them, like he was waiting for one of them to make a move so he could take his own seat, but Derek didn’t really know what else to say to make it so that Stiles didn’t go sit all the way on the other end of the row from him.
“I... can give you a recap?” Stiles asked uncertainly, like he wasn’t sure that was the right answer.
Derek clenched his jaw, and nodded once. “I’ll tolerate your presence for a recap.” He shifted to the side slightly and motioned for Isaac to go ahead.
The Beta arched an eyebrow at them both, but obeyed and started down the row with Scott close behind him. None of them said anything as they all passed Stiles and Derek until only the two end seats were left. Stiles moved past Derek and took a seat, leaving the outside one for the Alpha.
He sat down slowly, struggling to keep the stupid closet closed in his mind, but even as he did, he knew it was futile. It didn’t matter how much cement he tossed into the damn thing, Stiles was walking right up to it whistling with a jack-hammer.
“Popcorn?” Stiles asked, angling the bucket his way.
He wanted to refuse him, because he’d already caved to more than enough things tonight without sharing a fucking snack with Stiles, but before he could even talk himself out of it entirely, he reached out and took a handful.
Stiles smiled at him before facing the screen, shoving his own handful of popcorn into his mouth like a caveman.
Derek watched him out of the corner of his eye, trying and failing to find the similarities between him and Kate Argent.
Forcing himself to look away, he stared down at his own hand where he’d touched Stiles’ wrist, and rubbed his fingers together.
Maybe this time would be different. Maybe this time, the human would be the one to save him instead of the one who destroyed him.
Maybe Stiles truly was different.
The closet creaked and Derek let his hand drop.
END.