Archive of Our Own ^beta

Truth or Dare

Stiles blamed the first game on alcohol, specifically really tall, really delicious, Long Island Ice Teas and the snowstorm outside that meant Lydia, Danny, and he hadn’t walked to the bar down the street. Instead, they’d sprawled out on his tiny bed and hard cement floor and played Truth or Dare because they were bored and drunk and knew each but not well enough that they couldn’t get some good teasing ammunition out of it. So Lydia had started it, and they’d all taken turns, trying to come up with more and more embarrassing stunts or questions for the others.

The problem with mixing Long Island Ice Teas and Truth or Dare, however, was that sooner or later your mind became too full of alcoholic slush to actually come up with proper mock-me fodder. You were forced to rely on old standards.

So when Danny said that he wanted Truth, Stiles smiled.

“Oh, God, that’s his evil smile,” Danny said.

“Who was your crush back in high school?” Stiles asked.

Lydia groaned from her position on Stiles’ bed. “Trite, Stilinski, trite!”

“It’s not trite, it’s a classic,” Stiles said, “Besides the question still stands. Danny, who was your high school crush?”

Danny, ever the cool and calm guy, looked straight at Stiles and said, “Isaac Lahey. I had a huge crush on Isaac Lahey, but I couldn’t do anything about because I didn’t know if he was gay, and we ran in different groups.”

“But you’re Danny,” Stiles said, “Everyone loves you. You wouldn’t have had any trouble crossing the clique-divide.”

“Even I have felt the pressures of fitting in, Stiles,” Danny said.

“But you’re Danny,” Stiles said again.

“Stiles,” Lydia warned.

Stiles looked up then and saw Danny looking down, his cheeks stained a rare red.

“Oh,” he said, feeling rather stupid, “You still like him.”

“It’s just, I’ve gotten to know him a bit since then, and it hasn’t gone away,” Danny said.

“Why haven’t you asked one of us to set you up?” Stiles asked.

“Because it’s too embarrassing,” Danny said quietly.

Stiles felt bad for him. It’s one thing to have had a crush, it was another to still have it three years later.

“Well, Stiles, I think Danny just proved your argument over why that’s a good question,” Lydia said.

“I think he did,” Stiles said, glad of the subject change, “Finally, I am smarter than you, Lydia Marie Martin!”

“You just got lucky,” Lydia scoffed.

They let the conversation drift away then, and neither of them mentioned Danny’s crush again.

Except Stiles couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how Danny and Isaac would make such a cute couple. He couldn’t stop thinking about how long Danny had liked Isaac, and he knew that if he had the chance to get together with his long-time crush, he wouldn’t care how it happened. So Stiles started to plot.

********

Chances were good that Isaac wouldn’t tell Stiles what he thought about Danny. Since the two packs had officially merged, they had gotten friendlier but were still far from actual friends. So Stiles had to go to someone who actually was Isaac’s friend, and, more importantly, that Stiles could manipulate into giving him the information. He had to go to Scott.

“Sco-ot,” Stiles whined when Scott answered the phone.

He heard Scott sigh. “What do you want, Stiles?”

“Do you know if Isaac has, at any point, liked Danny?” he asked. Okay, so he didn’t really manipulate Scott. It was more like annoying him until he gave up the information.

“I don’t have time for this, Stiles,” Scott said, “I have a test to study for, and animals to feed.”

Stiles could hear a girlie giggle in the background, so while Scott’s story may have been true, Stiles would have more money on the wanting-to-impress-a-girl excuse for ignoring Stiles’ phone call than the all-work-and-no-play Scott that he’s been since Allison finally left for good. Somewhere along the line, Scott has decided that he’d rather spill his secrets to Isaac than Stiles, so Stiles got obvious lies and only pieces of the truth. Stiles closed his eyes and tried not to think of the wobbliness of one of his most enduring relationships.

“Then answer my question, Scott. You know that’s the only way I’ll leave you alone,” Stiles said.

“Fine,” Scott said, clearly unhappy with having to do this.

“So do you know if Isaac has ever liked Danny? Or should I try to get him drunk with some wolfsbane-laced beer?”

“Hold off on the beer. Yes, Stiles, Isaac once upon a time had a small, emphasis on the small, thing for Danny,”

“Okay, thanks, Scott!” Stiles said, “Now go have fun with your new girlfriend.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, and Stiles could hear Scott start to protest, so he hung up before Scott could lie to him some more. There were only so many lies he can handle in a day.

Besides, he had confirmation now. He just needed a few more things to put his plan in action

********

Okay, so his plan wasn’t anything really special or complicated. Most of his plans, in fact, weren’t. What they were was simple and direct. And they worked, which was a whole lot more than most people’s (Derek, pointing no fingers) did.

It started with Stiles merely mentioning any news of Isaac that he could pull out of Scott and telling Scott as much news as he could about Danny with not so subtle hints that he should pass them along. He passed along his information as smoothly and subtly as possible.

“So, Danny, how are you doing this fine morning?” he asked as he slid into the chair across from Danny’s at the on-campus coffeeshop.

Danny sighed but still looked up and smiled at Stiles. “I am doing fine. How are you doing today?”

Stiles had to hand it to him. He didn’t even bother to look pointedly out the window at the gray overcast sky and constantly falling snowflakes. He just answered, point blank. Stiles had trained him well.

“I am excellent. Are you going back to Beacon Hills with Lydia and me for Thanksgiving or are you off to Hawaii again with your family?” Stiles asked.

“I think I’m going back to Beacon Hills. My parents can’t afford to fly out to Hawaii again. I’d rather not go without them, so Beacon Hills it is,” Danny said.

Stiles nodded, attempting to appear thoughtful. “Well, you know that we basically have the pack over for Thanksgiving, so you are welcome to come after your family meal, if you want to”.
“I don’t want to impose or anything, Stiles”.

“Impose? No such thing. Everyone would be glad to have you there,” Stiles said, “Besides Isaac will be there. He just confirmed with Scott last night.”

Danny just shook his head. “Smooth, Stilinski, smooth. Fine, I’ll be there.”

Subtlety wasis overrated.

********

Stiles hated flying. He hated having to arrive at the airport hours early to check in and then spend hours bored out of his mind with absolutely nothing to do. Okay, sure, he’d brought along his phone, his iPod, and even a good, old fashioned book, but that never seemed to actually be enough.

And when he had finally reached the pinnacle of boredom, then and only then would the flight board. But Stiles was never first. Oh, no, he had to watch a large number of guys who had just enough douchebagginess to remind him of Jackson and a large number of girls who were just plain dressed inappropriately for a plane ride, board before him. Then he would get called on with a whole bunch of other people, have to fight for space to store his bag in the overhead bins, and settle into a seat that would inevitably be by someone who was too big or listened to their music too loudly, or he would be stuck behind someone who insisted on lowering their seat into his lap, so he would spend the entirety of the flight crouched into too small of a space and be bored, once again, out of his mind.

Yeah, Stiles hated flying. But the end of it, when his dad or Scott would be waiting at the airport to take him home, that was worth the whole damn thing. Because nothing, nothing beat seeing a familiar face at the end of that horrible ordeal. Nothing.

Which is why Stiles was mildly surprised to see Derek waiting for them at the baggage claim. He hadn’t changed much over the years. He still wore his face in a perpetual scowl and insisted on an all black wardrobe, no matter how many times Lydia had taken him shopping. Even the leather jacket was still there. But still, Derek was a familiar face. And a familiar face is home, no matter whose it is.

“What’s shaking, bacon?” Stiles asked, after he had fought through the crowds for not only his suitcase but Lydia’s two, too. He had even helpfully pointed out Danny’s on the conveyor belt.

Derek just rolled his eyes. “I’m fine. How was your flight?”

“Oh, you know, cramped, noisy, and there was a weird smell coming from behind me,” Stiles groaned.

Stiles could have sworn that he almost, almost, saw Derek’s mouth quirk into a smile. One day Stiles would get that smile, and it would be glorious.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Derek said. He grabbed the handle of Stiles bag, turned around, and started heading out. Stiles grinned, and then grabbed the handle of one of Lydia’s bags. He could help out too.

********

Thanksgiving was Stiles’ favorite holiday. Once upon a time, pre-sophomore year, it had been Halloween, but the reality of werewolves and the supernatural at large had really killed it for im. Instead, Stiles chose to enjoy the one day a year when he was allowed to eat as much as possible without anyone making faces or complaining and when he spent the majority of the day with people he cared about.

The Stilinski-McCall Thanksgiving had expanded to include the majority of the pack around their senior year in high school. That was the year that Stiles finally realized that Derek had no place to go and Isaac’s foster family Thanksgiving wasn’t really him spending time with people who cared about him. It was him spending time with people who were paid to take care of him. Stiles had sat down with his dad, Mrs. McCall, and Scott and discussed not only inviting them but also holding it back a few hours so that any other members of the pack who wanted to come, could. Everyone had generously agreed to that plan. Also, it meant that whoever was in charge of the turkey (it rotated between the households every year) didn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn to get it started. They could sleep in a little.

This year’s feast was epic. Not only had Mrs. McCall made the turkey (everyone knew that she did an exponentially better turkey than Stiles or the Sheriff), but everyone had brought at least one dish to share. Stiles had made sweet potatoes with marshmallows and homemade cranberry sauce. Boyd had brought his famous green beans with cheese and bacon. Erica came with a large bowl of stuffing. Isaac had contributed a dish of Apple-Snicker salad. Lydia had even deigned to bring a platter full of vegetables and low-fat dip. And Derek had come with not only two pumpkin pies, but two apple pies as well. Stiles had told Danny about the tradition beforehand, so he was able to bring along a pineapple salad that he said his family had every year.

The meal was fantastic, and when it was done, the adults shooed the young adults (Stiles refused to think of himself as a teenager now that he had hit the ripe old age of twenty-one ) into the living room.

“So what do you want to do now?” Isaac asked, looking around the room.

“I have an idea,” Stiles said, slowly grinning.

“Oh, God, no, Stiles, no,” Lydia said.

Everyone turned to look at her.

“I know that face,” she said, “that’s your let’s-play-a-game-we-should-have-grown-out-of-in-high-school face.”

“You know me well, oh strawberry goddess of my heart,” Stiles said, “But just because we should have grown out of the games doesn’t mean that they aren’t still fun.”

“What game are you thinking of?” Isaac asked from his position on the floor next to the couch.

“Truth or Dare,” Stiles said with an even bigger grin.

Half the group groaned, but when nobody could come up with a better idea other than watching a movie (“We do that all the time. We don’t need to do it on a holiday,” Stiles insisted), they agreed to play.

Stiles let a few rounds go past him. Sure, he made up weird dares and asked odd questions, but he hid his cards until finally everyone was relaxed enough. Then he hit them with his ace.

“Truth or dare, Danny?” he asked from his spot lying on the floor in front of the coffeetable.

“Truth,” Danny said with an eye roll.

Stiles grinned. “If Isaac was dared to kiss you, would you kiss him back?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Danny as a blush spread over his cheeks.

Scott and Lydia didn’t pick up on his hint or they were blatantly ignoring it. Either way, nobody dared Isaac to kiss Danny until Stiles’ next turn. And when they did finally kiss, well, let’s just say that the fireworks were visible to even the blindest of viewers.

Three days later when they were flying back to the East Coast, Stiles saw Danny texting Isaac. He totally knew it would work.

******** 

20 Questions

Stiles’ mad skills at getting Danny and Isaac together had one unexpected benefit: Scott was talking to him again. At first it was stilted and awkward, their friendship having suffered an obvious hit when Scott had retreated after Allison left. Their first text message conversation in two years that had nothing to do with the rest of the pack went something like this:

From Scott: Thanks for a good Thanksgiving.

From Stiles: No problem. I had fun.

Stiles waited for a reply, but after twenty minutes, decided that he needed to make the next move. He drew down deep in his bag of games-he-should-have-grown-out-of-in-high-school and had one inspiring idea.

From Stiles: Hey, wanna play 20 Questions? Well, at least my version, where we just ask random questions instead of having you try to guess what I’m thinking?

From Scott: Sure. You go first.

From Stiles: How many animals do you own?

From Scott: Two, and they’re both fish. What’s your favorite class that you’re taking this semester?

From Stiles: The Arthurian Tradition in Great Britain and France. You?

Thus began the longest game of 20 Questions in the history of forever. Seriously, it was like a new game started every day. Every day, one of them would send the first question around 10 a.m. and the game would always seem to end somewhere between 10 and 11 p.m.

After about two weeks of asking random questions and questions that hinted at what he really wanted to know, Stiles finally gathered up his courage enough to ask the one question that had been on his mind.

From Stiles: Is Allison still your anchor?

He hesitated over sending it, but it only took one glance at Danny sitting in the café next to him, reading over Isaac’s latest email to remind him that he wanted that closeness, that contentment of finally having the one you love for his best friend. He hit send and then waited.

Finally, Scott answered back: Yes.

And then quickly afterwards: Can we stop playing this game today? I have a lot of studying to do.

Stiles sighed, but he still typed back: Yes.

He knew that asking Scott that question would close him off again. But he also knew, looking down at the yes on his phone, that it had to be asked.

********

Getting ahold of Allison proved to be a little tougher. The phone number he had stored in his cell was currently the number of some girl named Brittany who bitchily informed him that she did not know an Allison, had never met an Allison, and would never introduce an Allison she knew to some random guy calling her on the phone. Seriously, what happened to manners, people?

His next option was Lydia. He knew that after the last time Allison had left Scott, she had cut off contact with the majority of the pack, but she and Lydia had been best friends long before they were pulled into the crazy madness. Stiles knew that Lydia would be the one person with a way to contact her.

“Lydeeeeaaaa,” he cried over the phone when she answered.

“What do you want, Stiles?”
“I want to know if you still talk to Allison,”

“Of course I do,” she said, “But I’m not going to give you her number just so you can pass it on to Scott.”

“Scott hasn’t asked me for it. I just…I miss her, Lydia. She was my friend too,” Stiles said.

Despite her tough exterior, Lydia wasn’t heartless. Stiles could hear the guilt in her voice when she said, “Okay, just please don’t give it to him. She asked me specifically not to.”

“I won’t,” said Stiles, “I just want to talk to her, to know she’s all right.”

“Fine,” Lydia relented. Stiles couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty for guilt-tripping Lydia, but he wasn’t lying. Yes, he wanted to see if Scott and Allison could get back together, but he did also want to know what had happened to his friend. Even if they hadn’t been the closest, he had cared about her, and that hadn’t gone away no matter how much time had passed or how much distance there was between them.

********

The first phone call was the hardest. Stiles had agonized for a few days, even going so far as to bug Danny about what he should say. He never thought talking to an old friend would be fraught with so much tension, but then again Allison wasn’t just a friend. She had been almost a sister-in-law and a packmate. She had been family, and in some ways, her leaving had been more devastating than Stiles remembered. Except now he could feel it, could feel the hole that she had left, and he wasn’t sure how to build a bridge across it.

In the end, he went with an old standby.

“Hi, Allison, it’s Stiles,” he said. He called her from his bedroom, lying curled up on his bed. It was the most comfortable place he could think of for what would probably be a very uncomfortable conversation.

“Hi, Stiles,” she whispered.

“Do you have time to talk right now?” he asked, knowing that Allison only whispered when she was in some sort of dangerous situation.

“Not really. Can I call you back in like an hour?” she said.

“Okay,” he said. They both hung up. Stiles sighed as he grabbed his backpack from beside his bed and pulled it towards him. He might as well do something productive while he waited.

********

Allison didn’t call back. Instead, she texted him a simple: How are you doing, Stiles?

Stiles grinned to himself as he finally connected the dots in Scott and Allison’s relationship. The reason why they could never get it together, to never fully trust one another, was that they inevitably shared the same major flaw: they were both fiercely protective of anyone they perceived as innocent, and because of that, they acted with their hearts. Stiles didn’t think acting with your heart was a bad idea. But if two people in a relationship were both doing it, then nobody was acting together. And the beautiful part about a relationship was that, at its core, it was about two people coming together against the world. Scott and Allison had never figured out how to do that, not for more than a fight or two.

And that’s why, after they broke up for the last time, neither one of them could talk to Stiles. He was a friend to both of them. And since neither one of them wanted to hurt him, they just cut him out. They kept him away from hearing all the crap they needed to spew about the other. But in doing so, they’d isolated themselves from him. Cutting off ties was easy. Knotting them back together wasn’t.

It was a good thing Stiles was a professional awkward-moment facer. He knew exactly what to do to get Allison to talk.

From Stiles: Hey, Allison, wanna play 20 Questions?

Okay, so he was recycling an idea, but it had worked the first time.

From Allison: Sure.

From Stiles: Okay, you go first.

From Allison: If you could go anywhere on the planet, where would you go?

From Stiles: That’s easy. Jamaica, man. Where would you go?

Just like that, they were off. Every day they played 20 Questions. By the third day, Stiles had gotten fed up with Scott’s silence, so he began texting him too. Then he had two never-ending games happening at the exact same time.

It took him two weeks to type: Do you miss Scott?

It took her an hour to reply: Every day.

Stiles turned the conversation then, not wanting the awkwardness to happen like it had with Scott. Still, he kept her response in the back of his head and let it percolate. He had an idea developing, he just knew it.

********

It was two days later when Lydia saw him laughing at his phone and snatched it out of his grip.

“What does ‘strawberry’ mean? I thought you were over your crush on me”.

“I am,” Stiles said, “I’m just playing 20 Questions with Allison and--“he broke off, not wanting to be accused of meddling.

“And who, Stiles? And Scott?” Lydia guessed. She started flipping through his messages, looking at questions and answers. She stopped when she pulled up Allison’s “Every day.”

“You asked her,” she said. They were studying in his room, and she slumped down on his bed. “Two years I’ve been trying to get up the guts to ask, and you are the one who finally does.”

“I want to get them back together,” Stiles said, “Scott isn’t happy. I know he isn’t.”

“Allison isn’t either. She tries to pretend, but I know better,” Lydia said.

“Yeah, so how do we do it?” Stiles asked.

They spent the rest of the night conspiring.

*******

Between studying for finals and taking finals, Stiles kept texting them for the next week, slipping in questions from a pre-approved-by-Lydia-list to get them to talk more about the breakup, their feelings, or just anything emotional. Most of the time it was like pulling teeth, but Scott and Allison stayed true to the nature of the game and answered accordingly. In turn, he kept himself true to the nature of the game and allowed them to ask him any question they wanted, which led Scott to remember a whole bunch of embarrassing moments from their childhood and gave Allison a scary introduction to Geeky College Boys 101.

Stiles managed to survive finals, and two days before Christmas, he flew back to Beacon Hills with Danny and Lydia.

The flight was exactly as crappy as Stiles had remembered, but when they arrived in Beacon Hills, not only was Derek waiting for them but also Isaac. Stiles didn’t spot him right away, too busy staring at Derek in his brand new green shirt. Yeah, it was a dark olive green, but it was color! Derek was really starting to branch out.

Stiles was just starting to rhapsodize in his head about how well the olive green complimented Derek’s eyes when Lydia elbowed him in the side. He looked over at her, and she gestured to on Derek’s left. That’s when Stiles saw Isaac. Most importantly, that’s when Stiles saw Isaac and Danny making out like the teenagers they had just stopped being. He started grinning. Now if only he could do that for Scott and Allison.

********

Christmas Eve marked the next big pack event. When Mrs. McCall had confided in Scott who then confided in Stiles that she didn’t want to hold the annual Christmas party in her house because she had been working doubles all month, to cover for a coworker’s maternity leave and hadn’t gotten around to decorating, Stiles called in Lydia and Erica to turn the house into a wonderland.

They didn’t disappoint. Lydia dragged Stiles and Derek out to find the perfect tree while Scott and Erica dug out the decorations. Three hours later, the tree looked gorgeous with all the ornaments of Scott’s childhood hanging off of it and the house looked like a Christmas card, with mistletoe hanging in the doorways and evergreens gracefully draped on pretty much every surface available. Derek and Stiles cooked the meal, lasagna with salad, garlic bread, and homemade gelato, (courtesy of Derek), for dessert.

Before everyone came over, Stiles and Lydia pulled Scott aside.

“What’s going on, guys?” he asked as he sat down on his bed and Stiles closed the door.

“We wanted to tell you that we’d invited Allison,” Stiles said.

“What? Why?” Scott asked.

Lydia pushed Stiles to the side and walked over to Scott. “She’s coming because I asked her to. Because this party is about friends and family, and she’s my best friend. I haven’t seen her for months because she doesn’t want to make things uncomfortable in the pack, but I don’t care anymore. You two are adults. You can be civil for one night,” she said.

Scott looked down at his hands and didn’t answer.

“Well, can’t you?” Lydia demanded.

Finally, Scott whispered, “Yes.”

“Good. And just to be fair, I’ll give her this speech when she gets here too,” Lydia said.

“Okay,” said Scott. He still didn’t look up from his hands, but he agreed so Stiles opened the door and ushered Lydia out of the room.

“All systems are go,” he said in her ear as they walked back into the kitchen.

Lydia dug her elbow into his side in retaliation and strolled ahead. Then went off to greet Boyd and Erica, who looked like they had just arrived.

********

Christmas couldn’t have gone better if Stiles and Lydia had planned it. Allison was the last to arrive, but Erica immediately pulled her into a conversation about her newfound love of photography. Scott and Derek played nice, which was still something they normally had an issue with. Isaac and Danny made out under every piece of mistletoe in the house. The Sheriff and Melissa sat back and let everyone else serve them. All in all, it was an amazing time.

Stiles’ favorite part came after the presents had been opened. He helped Scott carry his to his bedroom. They opened the door, and saw that Allison was standing inside the room, putting on her jacket.

“Hi, Scott,” she said, “Lydia put my jacket in here. She said that there was no more room on your mom’s bed or something.”

“Hi,” Scott said, clearly uncomfortable around her.

Stiles set down the boxes he was carrying and quickly slipped into the hallway. He grabbed the door as he went. Lydia was waiting in the hallway with a doorstopper and a hammer. She quickly pounded the triangular piece of wood under the door so that it wedged the door tight. Stiles could hear Scott and Allison knocking on the door, yelling at them to stop, but they still locked the door with the key Melissa had given them. Lydia had quickly convinced Stiles that they needed to tell Melissa their plan so that she didn’t take pity on her son and let him out too soon. Melissa had told them that she was tired of Scott moping, so she was glad someone was trying to help them.

Stiles and Lydia quickly dashed down the stairs. They had just taken their places around the Christmas tree when Scott sent Stiles a text message.

From Scott: Let us out.

From Stiles: Not until you talk to Allison.

From Scott: Fine, I’ll do it myself.

Stiles didn’t need to be a werewolf to hear Scott loudly curse once and then twice. Then his phone rang.

“Hi, Scott,” Stiles said.

“What did you do to my bedroom?”
Stiles grinned. “Didn’t Melissa tell you that she’d touched up the door and the trim in your room with some wolfsbane-laced paint?”

“Stiles!” Scott yelled.

The smile fell from Stiles face as he turned and walked into the deserted kitchen. “You need to talk to her, Scott. You both have spent too long avoiding your issues. Neither one of you can move on unless you talk.”

“But I don’t know what to say,” Scott whined.

“I know, dude. That’s why, if you check your desk, you’ll see a list of questions that Lydia and I have prepared,” Stiles answered.

“Lydia is in on this?” Scott yelped, “Did you tell everyone?”

“Yes,” Stiles replied, “Why do you think that no one is trying to rescue you right now? Just ask the questions, talk, and in the morning, we’ll let you out. Nobody has to get hurt.”

“Fine,” Scott growled.

He hung up before Stiles could reply, but Stiles didn’t care. His plan was working.

********

The next morning, when Isaac and Danny were preparing breakfast for the whole pack, Stiles walked up the steps and tried to pull out the doorstopper. When he couldn’t budge it, he went and convinced Derek to remove it. About half an hour later, Scott and Allison walked down to the kitchen together, holding hands. When they entered, Scott immediately threw a piece of wadded up paper at Stiles’ head.

Stiles caught it and opened it up to see what was written on it. It said 20 Questions to Help Scott and Allison Get A Clue . Stiles couldn’t help it. He started laughing and laughing. Across the table from him, Scott broke into a big grin as Allison kissed his cheek.

********
 
Spin the Bottle

The pack held their New Year’s Eve party at Derek’s loft. He didn’t attempt to decorate, although the bed did end up shoved along a wall. Somebody, Stiles suspected Peter, had bought a bunch of Happy New Year’s hats, confetti, and noisemakers. Derek’s desk was covered in bottles of champagne and the wolfsbane alcohol that could make the wolves go loopy. A laptop ran in the background, showing some New Year’s Eve party. Nobody paid any attention to it, however, someone had come up with the excellent idea of playing Spin the Bottle. Stiles swore it wasn’t him, but he may have had a little influence with the person who suggested it, especially since they wanted to kiss their rediscovered true love.

Everyone laughed when Scott suggested it, but they willingly took places in the circle. Even Peter, who had mysteriously appeared two days after Christmas, sat down between Isaac and Boyd. Lydia went around pouring out the last bit of champagne so they could use the empty bottle. She then placed it in the center and sat down by Stiles.

“Since this was your idea, you spin first, Scott,” Lydia demanded.

“Okay,” Scott said. He sat up on his knees and spun the bottle. Around and around and around it went until it finally landed on Danny.

“Uh oh,” cried most of the pack at once.

“Are we counting same-sex kisses?” asked Peter, “We never actually set any ground rules.”
¬¬¬¬¬
“That’s because there are none,” said Stiles.

“Since there are at least three gay and/or bisexual men here, we better,” Erica suggested.

Stiles threw a piece of popcorn at her from the bowl at his side. “You just want to see two guys kiss.”

“So what if I do? There’s no shame in finding it hot,” Erica retorted.

“True that,” Allison said without hesitation. Stiles threw popcorn at her too.

“Enough of this,” said Derek, “Scott, kiss Danny.”

Scott smiled and leaned over to kiss Danny. Danny spun next and landed on Allison. They kissed.

They continued. When it finally was Peter’s turn, the bottle landed on Lydia. He looked over at her and smiled. It wasn’t his usual I-know-something-and-you-don’t,-you-idiot smirk. It was a genuinely nervous smile. He stood up and walked around the circle, something nobody had done. He helped Lydia to her feet and then leaned in and kissed her. When they were done, Peter bowed and walked back to his seat.
For a moment after he sat down, Stiles thought that he looked a little heartbroken, but the look was gone so quickly that Stiles wasn’t sure it had ever been there. He dismissed the thought from his mind; Peter was too cold to ever fall in love.

********

Back at school, Stiles was attempting to read his Astronomy textbook when Lydia burst into his room and flung herself on his bed.

“You need to help me, Stilinski,” she demanded.

“Am I hearing right? Is the great Lydia Marin asking little old Stiles for help?” he teased, not looking up from his textbook.

“Shut it, Stiles,” she said, “And the kind of help I need, well, it’s not exactly something I’m proud to admit.”

This grabbed Stiles’ attention. He shut his book and turned towards her. “What do you need?”

“I want you to…set me up with…Peter Hale,” she said, her head turned away from him.

“What?” he said, “You want to date the man who a) bit you, b) possessed you, and c) drove you a little bit insane? Not to mention the whole you lighting him on fire part?”

She looked up at the ceiling, still not meeting Stiles’ gaze. “I know it’s weird. I know that to everyone on the planet it’s crazy, but I can’t stop thinking about him ever since we kissed. He’s been at the back of mind since the whole possession-thing, and the kiss kind of made me notice him again. Now I’m tired of wondering if—” she cut off her sentence.

“If what?” Stiles gently prompted.

“If me and him, if we’re so tied together because we’re meant to be together,” she said.

Stiles forced his eyes not to role and the surprisingly mushy statement. He didn’t know what to say. He had hated Peter from the moment they had realized that he was the alpha. The whole kidnapping-and-almost-biting Stiles memory didn’t bring up any warm, fuzzy feelings either. But one look at Lydia staring so hard at the ceiling and trying so hard to keep her vulnerability inside, as if the moment she let it cross her face, everything that made her Lydia would disappear, and he would think less of her. Since that was pretty much impossible, even though Stiles had given up on them ever dating, Stiles sighed and ducked his head.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked.

“What?” Lydia asked, snapping up into a sitting position.

“I’ll help you, but I do have a few conditions,” Stiles said.

“Yes, whatever you want,” Lydia answered throwing caution to the wind.

“Okay, first of all, you need to realize that this will take more time than it did with Scott and Allison or even Isaac and Danny. Peter is on the outs with the entire pack. Getting you two together means getting the pack to accept him. And I’m realizing as I am saying this that I am assuming that you want this to be a socially acceptable relationship. Do you?” Stiles said.

Lydia said, “Yes, I want whatever it is we’ll have to be out in the open.”

“Also, when I ask you to do something, you’ll need to do it without asking me questions. I’ll have reasons for everything I do, but I’m not going to tell you all of them until everything is finished,” Stiles said.

“I can handle that,” Lydia said nodding.

“Okay,” said Stiles, “Then I’ll do it.”

********

Getting to know Peter was ridiculously hard. Stiles didn’t have his phone number and frankly didn’t want it. He knew of no one in the pack who talked to him regularly except for Derek. So just as Stiles had been forced into taking Lydia on as a partner in the great Allison-Scott Christmastime Reunion, Stiles would have to force Derek into being his co-conspirator in connecting Lydia and Peter.

Of course, that was easier said than done.

Derek didn’t answer his phone right away, which wasn’t unusual, but it still managed to put a hold on Stiles’ plans. However, he left a message after listening (and laughing at) Derek’s rough greeting, “Seriously, you should know what to do when you reach this point. If you don’t, then leave a message.”

“Hey, Derek, I kind of, sort of, need Peter’s number. Thanks. Bye. Oh, and this is Stiles.”

Yeah, he was smooth.

It appeared that he had at least some skills when it took approximately forty-five seconds before Derek was calling him back.

“Why do you want Peter’s number?” he asked.

“Why hello, Derek, I’m having a decent day. How are you?” Stiles replied.

“I’m fine, Stiles. Now why do you want Peter’s number?” Derek reiterated the question.

Stiles had to admit, as far as distraction techniques went, his needed improvement. His improvisation skills, however, were topnotch.

“I just want to say hey and catch up with what he’s been doing,” Stiles said.

Okay, maybe those needed work too.

“I’m not buying it,” Derek said.

Stiles looked up at his ceiling, trying to think of a good lie. He had nothing but the truth, damn it.

“Fine. Lydia wants me to set her up with Peter. I want to get to know him past his creepy exterior. To do so, I need to talk to him. Give me his phone number so we can at least have a conversation that won’t end with me wanting to knock his head into a wall and him hitting on me.”

“Peter’s hit on you?” Derek asked, his voice darker and growlier than before.

“Once or twice. Nothing lately. I just figured that conversing with him now would be easier, what with him on the West Coast and me on the East,” Stiles said.

Derek sighed. “Fine, I’ll give it to you. Just, if he tries anything that makes you or Lydia or Danny uncomfortable, let me know. I can bring him in line.”

“Okay, er…thanks,” said Stiles.

Derek gave him Peter’s number and then made him promise to inform Derek if Peter went all creeper again. By the time Derek was done extracting the promise, Stiles was too tired to actually call Peter that night. Oh, well. It’s not like he minded putting it off.

*******

“Stiles,” said Peter, his voice curling up on the last s, “To what do I owe this honor?”

Stiles hated when Peter talked like that, hated it, but he had to do this for Lydia. He’d promised her. He just had to repeat that in his head over and over during this conversation.

“I just wanted to get to know you a bit. I know we didn’t start out on the nicest footing, and I was hoping that you were a little less creepy these days,” Stiles said. So much for keeping his patience.

Peter, to his surprise, just laughed. “That is why I like you best, Stiles. You are never afraid of saying exactly what you mean.”

“Yeah, well, are you going to prove me wrong or are you going to continue freaking me out?” Stiles asked.

“Let’s talk,” said Peter.

*******

In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the most awkward conversation Stiles had ever had, (that was a tie between the first sex talk with his dad, which was focused on heterosexual sex, and the second one that occurred after Stiles had told him he was bisexual; Stiles still had issues with bananas), but it was really, really high on his list, like number three.

In the end, Stiles couldn’t hate it because he had learned what he needed to. He learned that for all of Peter’s creepy behavior and sexually charged talk, he was a pretty lonely guy. Peter had traveled around the U.S. for years, never really staying in one place. He knew people from all over, but he still named Derek’s dad as his best friend. He didn’t consider any place to really be his home, except maybe the old Hale House, but since that had been taken over by the county, he had nothing. In a lot of ways, he was more socially incompetent then Derek.

So now Stiles wanted to integrate Peter into the pack not just because he had promised Lydia but also because he felt sorry for the guy. He knew what it was like to feel alone. Yes, he had Scott and his dad growing up, but before the pack had gelled, there were many nights when he was stuck by himself. He knew that what Peter was feeling had to be at least ten times worse.

Stiles started making Peter feel more welcome in the pack by calling in some favors.

“Isaac,” he said into his phone.

“No,” said Isaac.

“But you haven’t heard what I’m going to ask you.”
“I don’t have to. I already know it’s going to be something unpleasant. You have that tone in your voice.”

“But you owe me. I set you up with your boyfriend,” Stiles whined.

“No, you didn’t. You were there when we kissed, you may have even asked Danny about kissing me back and dared me to do it, and damn it, you’re right. You made me make the first move. What do you want, Stiles?”

“I want you to ask Peter if he wants to see a film”.

“What?” Isaac screeched.

Stiles sighed. He knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. “I talked to him the other day, and I kind of feel bad for him. He doesn’t have a whole lot of friends. I would do something about it, but I’m kind of across the country right now, so I’m asking you. Will you do it?”

Isaac sighed. “Isn’t there other ways of being a friend?”

“I’m going to do my damndnest to be a friend over the phone, but that’s no substitute for
physical presence. You’re a werewolf, Isaac, you know how important physical sensation and memories are”.

“Fine,” Isaac grumped, “I’ll do it. I get to say ‘I told you so’ if it goes badly, all right?”

“Deal!”

Two days later, Stiles received a text from Isaac: We went and saw the new Star Trek. Had fun. Going to see the new Avengers when it comes out.

From Stiles: Guess it wasn’t so bad then.

From Isaac: No, it wasn’t. I might actually like the dude now.

Stiles smiled. Part One of his plan was a success.

********

Part Two of Stiles’ plan involved Peter’s least biggest fan. Okay, Scott wasn’t really a fan of Peter at all. He more hated the guy with the fire of a thousand flaming suns. If Stiles could get him to join the Peter-love fest, nobody else would have a chance.

But Scott was a lot harder to convince than Isaac.

“No,” he said as he answered the phone.

“You don’t know what I’m going to ask”.

“Yes, I do. It’s the same thing you’ve been asking me for the last three phone calls. I won’t hang out with Peter,” Scott stated.

“Please,” Stiles whined back.

“No, he was the one who bit me, Stiles. He bit me,” Scott growled.

“You know, you keep saying it like it was a bad thing, but from where I’m sitting, it totally wasn’t. I mean, you have an entire group of friends now instead of just little old me, and it has helped you to do your job. Allison doesn’t care, and it frankly puts you on a more equal footing with her Amazon warrior princess thing. Being bit didn’t destroy your life”.

Scott was silent for a moment. “But it made it harder,” he finally said.

“Life makes life harder. You just have a whole bunch of extra abilities to fight it with,” Stiles argued.

“Yeah, yeah,” mumbled Scott.

“So, will you give Peter a chance to actually be human?”

“Yes, but only because it’s you asking”.

“I can live with that”.

It took a week for Scott to get back to him, but even then the text message read, “He’s not that bad.”

Stiles counted it as a win.

********

Stiles knew a few weeks later that his plan had worked when Isaac sent him an email about a party the pack had thrown. It wasn’t a big party, just something to introduce all the different supernatural elements in town to each other, but it was important for one main reason. Peter had been included without any fuss or bluntly angry attitude. He was included without a second thought.

Lydia was almost ecstatic when he told her. Well, as ecstatic as she could get while simultaneously threatening him and reveling in her own terrifying glory.

“He’s accepted?” she queried, “How do you know?”

Stiles brought up the email on his phone and showed it to her.

“Oh, oh, oh,” she said as she read it.

“So they really do accept him. I didn’t think it would be that easy.”

“I know, I had my money on Scott making more trouble than he did. Apparently, I played the best friend card, which I wasn’t even sure I had anymore, and he agreed to give him a chance. Now look at them, being all packy and such.”

Lydia snorted. “Okay, so how do we go about getting him and me together?”

“Oh, Lydia, it’s not going to be that hard. Peter already likes you; he has for a while. Now we just need for you to make the first move on him. I know just how to do it. Trust me, by the end of Spring Break, you two will be together”.

********

Spring Break came around much faster than Stiles wanted. It wasn’t that he didn’t have anything to look forward to. On the contrary, the trio in the East were flying out West to celebrate. Stiles already had at least two CoD tournaments lined up with Scott and at least one round of curly fries to have with his dad. He also knew that the pack would be getting together multiple times over the week.

But Spring Break also meant that midterms had finally arrived. Stiles was lucky, in that most of his midterms were before Spring Break, but he did have one the week afterwards. Precious gaming/supernatural research/lounging around time would have to be sacrificed to studying. Ugh. Stiles was determined to avoid his textbooks as long as he could.

Lydia made that goal about a thousand times easier to achieve. The first night they were back in Beacon Hills, she had the entire pack over for a We-Haven’t-Seen-Each-Other-in-Months party.

Like every other Lydia Martin party, it involved killer snacks and enough booze to get even the werewolves drunk (especially since about half of it was laced with wolfsbane). Unlike every other Lydia Martin party, only the members of the pack, and not every other person in town, was invited.

Stiles didn’t remember most of the beginning of the party. He knew that he’d drunk something pretty quickly after Lydia had opened the door and let him in, but the type of alcohol or the name of the drink was a mystery. He knew also that he’d danced for awhile with Erica and then Allison. When Lydia finally demanded her turn, he was so drunk and exhausted from the dancing that only a few snitches of the conversation remained in his mind.

“Are you ready?” Lydia had asked.

“Totally,” said Stiles, letting his arms flail around a bit. For him, flailing translated into dancing.

“When should we do it?”

“Soon, soon, soon,” he’d said.

Lydia finished dancing to the song with him, but she dragged him off of the floor as soon as it was over.

“Go get a bottle,” she said. She pushed him towards her table full of liquor. Stiles remembered picking up bottle after bottle until he found one that had been emptied and then sat back down.

Later, the details of the second game of Spin the Bottle would come back to him.

He remembered the circle that kept falling apart and coming back together with all the people in different places. Derek was the only one who wouldn’t move. He’d sat down next to Stiles right away and then slumped, his head resting on Stiles’ shoulder. When Stiles tried to move to sit somewhere else, Derek had growled low in his throat and dug his hands into Stiles’ shoulders. He hadn’t shifted, so his claws hadn’t come out, but the werewolf strength was still there. Stiles had stayed and become Derek’s pillow for the rest of the night.

The one moment Stiles remembered in crystal-clear clarity was when Lydia spun the bottle and it landed on Peter. Lydia stood up almost before the bottle had stopped, walked across the circle, grabbed Peter’s shirt, and hauled him up. She’d kissed him with everything she had; like a woman kisses her man before he goes off to a war that will most certainly claim his life; like a woman who has found the one person who matters most; like she loved him. And that, more than anything else Lydia had ever said or done, convinced Stiles that she really did want him, that there wasn’t some strange lingering mind control from high school making her act lovesick. Lydia really loved Peter.

Though that moment was clear in Stiles’ memory, the rest of the night was a bit of a blur. He remembered trying to move at some point and realizing that Derek had actually fallen asleep on him. He did know that he woke up the next morning on the floor, half sprawled on top of Derek, feeling far more content and safe than he had in a long time. He sat up almost instantaneously, scared that Derek would wake up and, and, do something, what exactly he didn’t know. But Derek stayed asleep, even as Stiles stood up and tiptoed across the room. As he made his way to Lydia’s front door, he glanced into a room and saw Lydia and Peter tangled up together on the floor in a nest of blankets and pillows. He smiled as he pushed open the door. Lydia finally had what she wanted.

*********
 
7 Minutes in Heaven

Stiles walked into his house and nodded good morning to his dad. Then he went upstairs and flopped down on his bed. His heart was racing, had been racing since he’d woken up on Derek, but now it wouldn’t stop. His chest had tightened up. His throat had closed. His heart raced faster and hurt his chest. Air, air, air, he needed air. He tried to force his throat open. He tried to breathe deeply. His mind kept chanting, “Air, air, air.” He leaned over and put his head in his hands. He managed to drag in one breathe. His throat still tried to close. He breathed in another. The air hurt. His body wanted it, but it didn’t. His mind still chanted, “Air, air, air.” He forced in another. He kept dragging in sharp breathes that made his chest ache. Finally, his heart began to slow down. His chest and throat ached, but at least he was breathing normally. He was as calm as he could make himself.

Stiles knew that he should try to figure out what exactly had set him off, but he didn’t want to have another panic attack. He instinctively knew that whatever had set him off was important, very important in fact, but he wanted to be a coward for a while. He didn’t want to rush into battle, like he had so many times in high school. He just wanted to pretend that it hadn’t happened.

So that’s exactly what he did. He managed to take a shower before his hangover hit. Finally when his head started to hurt and his stomach started rolling, Stiles put on a pair of pajama pants and an old t-shirt and curled up in bed with his laptop, switching between Wikipedia and movies for the rest of the day.

********

Lydia found him later that day. Stiles hadn’t moved much all day except to get some food and go to the bathroom. His head hadn’t stopped hurting yet, but his stomach had settled. He still didn’t feel like moving when she flounced into his room and sat down beside him.

“Where were you this morning?” Lydia asked.

“I went home. I wasn’t feeling too good and just wanted to curl up in my own bed,” he said, turning his head slightly to look at her.

Lydia grabbed the pillow under his head, fluffed it up, and stuck it behind her back. She leaned against it and crossed her ankles. “Well, you missed Derek’s awesome hangover pancakes,” she said.

“Dammit,” said Stiles. Derek’s pancakes were legendary in the pack. Stiles had, on more than one occasion, had too much to drink so that he could crash in Derek’s vicinity to get those pancakes. Stiles had never missed them before.

“I didn’t even think about that,” he moaned, “I just wanted sleep.”

“Like you couldn’t have gotten that next to Derek”.

“It wasn’t the same”.

Lydia waited a moment to see if Stiles would elaborate, but he stayed silent. For a few minutes, they watched whatever movie was playing.

“Stiles,” Lydia eventually asked, “Have you ever thought about setting up Derek?”

Stiles turned to her. “Huh?”

“You’ve set up everybody else in the pack. Now it’s time to do the Alpha. We all think so”.

Stiles felt his cheeks grow hot at the thought of doing the Alpha, but he knew Lydia didn’t mean it like that. Even if she was a strawberry blond goddess, she suffered hangovers like all the other mere mortals, so it had to have been a slip of the tongue. Right?

Before Stiles could formulate a coherent reply, Lydia spoke again, “I was going to ask you before I decided that I wanted Peter, but well, I couldn’t wait. Do you have anyone in mind for him?”

Stiles forced his brain to take a step back from the apparent blackhole that the combination of Derek and sex created in his mind.

“Ummm… I can’t think of anybody right now.”

“Well, then I have an idea,” she said, “Derek’s planning on having a party at his place on Saturday night. Since the entire pack is on your ‘junior high party games’ kick, we’ll use it to our advantage.”

“The pack is on my ‘junior high party games’ kick?” Stiles said, ignoring the last part of Lydia’s statement.

Lydia sighed. “You have no idea how much your little 20 Questions game has caught on. I’m currently in the middle of three games: one with Erica, one with Isaac, and one with Scott. I’m pretty sure that Boyd and Danny are giving questions to Erica and Isaac, so I’m kinda in games with them too.”

“Crap,” Stiles said. His head fell back against the headboard.

“I know, right? Since your superpower is apparently getting people obsessed with games, we’ll just play a little game at Derek’s party”.

“Like what? Haven’t we played all the junior high games there are?”

Lydia smiled. Stiles felt a shiver run down his spine.

“No,” she said, “We have one more: 7 Minutes in Heaven.”

********

Stiles didn’t have a good feeling about this. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Lydia, except that it was exactly that he didn’t trust Lydia. She was way, way smarter than him and knew how to use everything God gave her, from her brains to her looks, to her advantage. He just knew that somehow, someway she was playing him. Until he could figure it out though, he was going with her plan.

So once again, at a party, the pack was seated in a circle. This time, however, Lydia had nixed the idea of using a bottle to pick out the other person. She had explained to him earlier that he wanted to talk to Derek alone, so that Derek would be more comfortable and more willing to answer them than if he was bombarded in the middle of a move that the whole pack was watching. Lydia went for the other method to make sure it happened how they wanted it to, the method that looked like chance but was actually Lydia controlling the variables.

She played fair at first. She drew names and berated the individuals into going into the bedroom. Isaac and Allison, Scott and Peter, Stiles was pretty sure nobody was actually playing the game. They were more likely just having conversations, like he was going to be with Derek.

Finally, she called out, “Stiles and Derek.”

Derek stood up from his place on the couch beside Stiles and grabbed Stiles’ hand. He pulled him up and into the bedroom. Stiles let him lead, more nervous about being alone with Derek than with having to interrogate him. After all, he’s Stiles Stilinski. He had been considered annoying by the majority of the population of Beacon Hills since he was in diapers. He could handle being annoying for research purposes.

Stiles sat on the bed while Derek shut the door behind him. Then Derek walked over to the bed and sat down next to Stiles. Both of their backs rested against the headboard. Derek folded his hands in his lap and scowled at them.

Stiles took a deep breath and then began to talk, “I have to tell you that this is a set up.”

Stiles decided to ignore the suspicious look Derek sent his way after that announcement and hurried through the rest of his small but well thought out speech, “Apparently, the pack has decided that you need a significant other. I have been elected to be the matchmaker. So I have some questions for you.”

Derek faced forward and said, “Okay, ask away.”

Stiles looked over at him. He looked pained almost, as if this was going to cost him more than a few answers.

“Really?” he said, “I thought that you were going to put up more of a fight.”

“I’m not stupid,” said Derek, “You’ve been good with the rest of the pack, setting up Danny and Isaac, getting Scott and Allison back together, and not only setting up Lydia and Peter but getting Peter accepted as part of the pack. I trust you with finding me someone.”

“Okay,” said Stiles, suddenly more nervous than he had been before. He didn’t want Derek to fight him on this, did he?

“Do you have questions to ask me or something?” Derek said.

“Oh, yeah,” said Stiles. He dug through his pocket until he came out with the list that Lydia had helped him create. He also pulled out a pen.

Using a book he found on the nightstand to lean on, Stiles began the interrogation.

********

Stiles was a bit shocked to find that getting through the list was the easy part. Finding Derek a suitable companion quickly proved to be the challenge.

It wasn’t that it was impossible or that Derek had been too specific. He’d stated that he liked brunettes, moles, brown eyes, a sarcastic sense of humor, energy, intelligence and empathy in a person. Since he was a werewolf, Stiles had also added loyalty, good fighting skills and knowledge of the supernatural, to the list.

Lydia gave him an are you serious? look when he handed her the list, but she kept her mouth shut and began helping him look for someone.

They didn’t have much time in Beacon Hills, but Stiles wasn’t worried about that. If there was someone there that Derek wanted, then he would have gone after them already. As it was, the list was relatively small and easily cut down, especially after they discovered that two of the candidates were not funny no matter how hard they tried and one was just a couch potato, pure and simple. He never would have fit into the always training, way too energetic pack.

Stiles started to look in Boston. Most of the people he found were nice enough but didn’t quite measure up to the sense of humor, or loyalty factor, or have enough patience. Nobody was good enough.

Lydia and Danny would sigh and roll their eyes when Stiles came to them with another potential someone for Derek, but they would still get out a piece of paper and create a series of pros and cons.

By the end of the semester, Stiles had nothing.

“Seriously, Lydia, there’s nobody that seems to fit all of Derek’s requirements,” he said on the day before they left to go home for the summer. He was sprawled out on Lydia’s bed watching her pack. She had banned him from helping, since he apparently did not know the correct way to fold laundry.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be looking for someone who is a lot closer to Beacon Hills?” she said.

“Like who?” said Stiles, “I’ve gone through the Beacon Hills phonebook and haven’t found anyone. What will have changed?”

“Well, for one thing, a lot of college kids go to Florida or Mexico for Spring Break. There might be some in town for the summer that you didn’t consider since they weren’t there in March,” Lydia said.

“That’s true,” said Stiles, “I guess I’ll just have to be patient.”

Lydia rolled her eyes at him and changed the subject. Stiles went along with it. It was better than thinking about Derek with someone else. Every time he did, he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his chest.

********

Beacon Hills was a bust. Almost. Just when Stiles thought that there was truly no one out there that was good enough for Derek, Scott brought home one of his friends from college.

“Stiles, this is Alexandria. She’s in the vet program with me. She’s a city girl, and after I told her all about Beacon Hills and the reserve, she wanted to come see it,” Scott said when Stiles opened his door. He had been expecting Scott over for a Call of Duty marathon, so the brunette standing next to Scott was definitely a surprise.

“Hi,” said Alexandria, “I hope you don’t mind, but this place is awesome. In the drive over here, I’ve already seen two squirrels, three rabbits, and a whole bunch of birds. That’s like more nature than I’ve seen in my entire life.”

Stiles smiled and then stepped aside to let both Alexandria and Scott in.

“Ignore the mess,” he said, “I was just expecting Scott to come over for a CoD marathon, but we can go to the preserve if you want. I bet we’ll be able to triple your wildlife count in like five minutes there.”

“Oh, can we?” Alexandria said, “I mean, I’m sorry that I interrupted your CoD time, I know how seriously Scott takes that, but you would so be my hero if you took me to the preserve. Oh, and Scott, can we ask Allison? I’m dying to meet your one true love.”

Stiles laughed and quickly excused himself to go upstairs for his phone and shoes. Once up there, he sat down on his bed and took a few deep breaths. Alexandria had already checked off several of the boxes on the Derek Hale Love Checklist: brown hair and eyes, intelligence, caring, moles (she had one high on her left cheekbone), and seemed to be loyal. She hadn’t talked about inviting Allison with sarcasm or jealousy but with genuine interest. She really wanted to meet Allison because she thought Allison was interesting. She hadn’t even had a mocking tone of voice when she said “one true love.” Her niceness was actually kind of irritating.

Still, Stiles knew there was no reason to actually hate her. She was doing well so far. He owed it to Derek and his future happiness to determine if she was a viable candidate for his affections.

********

Four hours, one walk through the preserve, a couple of pizzas, and an Ironman marathon later, Stiles faced the horrible truth that Alexandria really was as awesome a person as she seemed. She was funny and sweet and knew a ton of supernatural information. Granted, it all came from pop culture and not a bestiary or two, but Stiles knew better than anybody how much a general curiosity in the supernatural spoon-fed to the masses could transfer into genuine supernatural lore. It was only a matter of time, assuming of course that she became Derek’s significant other.

Of course, she might not be perfect. Just because she currently has every box checked off didn’t mean she’d actually get along with Derek. Stiles mentally cursed himself for the honorable streak in him that wouldn’t let him accept that excuse. They might not get along, but then again, they might. Derek knew what Stiles was trying to do; Derek was probably depending on him for this because the entire pack knew that Derek really had no game, not for long term relationships at least.

Stiles ignored the bad feeling in his stomach and called Derek.

********

Stiles had no idea why he had decided to drive to the movie theatre on Rose Street that night. They weren’t really playing anything that he wanted to see, but he couldn’t stand sitting around his house all night, wondering if Derek and Alexandria were having fun on their date. He had started to, picturing Derek out of his black ¬ and dressed in a green shirt with a gray vest while Alexandria wore a short red dress and killer heels. He saw Derek ordering the wine, fumbling through the foreign name. Alexandria would complement him on his pronunciation, no matter how bad it was. They would giggle, and Derek would slide his hand across the table to cover hers.

Stiles stopped imagining it after that.

Instead, he walked out of the house and climbed into his Jeep. He drove into the heart of Beacon Hills while trying to convince himself that seeing a movie would be an excellent distraction.

Stiles knew it for the lie it was when he parked across from the restaurant.

Through the front window, past the people sitting right in front of it, Stiles could just see Alexandria and Derek. Derek looked nervous, his eyebrows up just a little, enough so that Stiles could read his uncertainty at what to reply to whatever Alexandria was talking about. He could see Derek’s lips quirk up in a small smile, one that looked almost happy.

Stiles couldn’t look anymore.

He pulled away from the restaurant and headed to the bar down the road. He needed an adult distraction.

********

Two hours later and Stiles had no idea how many drinks he’d had. He knew that there had been a row of turned over shot glasses in front of him, but the bartender had cleared them away. He knew that there had been more than one glass in his hand.

“’Nother drink?” he asked, the words slurring together.

“Sure,” said the bartender, “Same as before?”

“Yeah, that one was good,” Stiles said.

The bartender turned around and started mixing stuff together. When he turned back, he set a glass full of clear liquid in front of Stiles. Stiles picked it up and took a big drink from it.

When he realized what it was, he could barely keep himself from spitting it out. He gulped it down and said, “That was water.”

“It was,” said the bartender, “I knew you hadn’t paid attention to the drink you had before.”

“But water,” Stiles said. He couldn’t understand how a bartender of all people could mix up water with alcohol. Although, he could have thought it was vodka or gin, he thought charitably.

Stiles took another drink to see if it was still water or if he was the one who had made the mistake. Nope, still water.

The next drink that the bartender made him tasted an awful lot like coffee and it was hot. Stiles still drank it and the next drink (more hot coffee flavor), but he made a face every time he had to choke it down. Of course, by the end of the second cup of coffee, Stiles was coherent enough to realize that he had somehow managed to wander into the only bar where the bartender had a conscience and wouldn’t let him drive home drunk.

Oh, crap, he thought, he couldn’t drive home drunk. His dad would kill him if he found out.

Stiles took out his phone and dug through it for one of his friends’ numbers. He found Danny’s number and called him.

“Hi, Stiles,” Danny said.

“Can you come pick me up?” he whispered loudly into the phone.

“Sure, where are you?” Danny said.

Stiles told him the name of the bar and then said, “You know, on the phone, you sound an awful lot like Derek.”

Danny laughed and then said, “I’ll be there soon, Stiles.”

Stiles hung up and then flagged the bartender down. He might as well try to sober up a bit more before he had to go home.

********

¬Stiles had a game of solitaire spread out before him on the bar when someone slid into the seat beside him.

“Move the red seven to the black eight,” said the person to his right.

Stiles looked over. It was Derek.

“How was your date?” he asked. He almost waved the bartender over for another a drink, but he had a feeling the man wouldn’t give him anything else.

“It was fine,” Derek said. He watched Stiles move the cards around for a few minutes before he sighed and said, “What are you doing here, Stiles?”

“Just, you know, killing some time,” Stiles said.

“Killing time for what?” Derek said.

“For your date to be over,” Stiles said, not looking at Derek.

“Why?”

“So I can interrogate you about it.” His hand came down on the neatly ordered rows of cards and shoved them into a pile. “But I don’t feel like doing that now, so will you please take me home?”

“Sure,” said Derek.

He started grabbing cards from the counter and shuffling them together. Stiles helped after a moment. He wanted to say more, to tell Derek that he hadn’t felt good the entire date, that he didn’t want Derek to go out with Alexandria or even like her, but he had promised to find Derek someone. He couldn’t let his own feelings get in the way of that.

After the cards were put away, Derek slipped his arm around Stiles and helped him stand up.

“I’m going to take you to my place,” he said as Stiles lost his footing and leaned against Derek.

“I’ll be fine at home,” Stiles insisted

“Maybe, but your dad is working the night shift and you are really drunk. I would feel better if you came back with me so I can keep an eye on you”.

He led Stiles out of the bar and into the Camaro. As Stiles slid into the passenger seat, he mumbled something.

“What did you say?” asked Derek when he was seated.

“I said that I’m not that drunk,” Stiles said, “The bartender gave me a lot of water and a lot of coffee.”

“I’m still not taking any chances”.

“Fine,” said grouched. He stared ahead at the road, watching familiar things look spooky and different in the combination of darkness and Derek’s headlights.

********

The next morning Stiles gradually woke up. He was so comfortable, snuggled back into something warm, that he didn’t want to open his eyes. He kept them closed as long as possible, savoring the weight of Derek’s arm around him and Derek’s legs tangled with his.

When he couldn’t ignore the demands of his bladder any longer, he slowly and carefully untangled himself from Derek and walked as quietly as he could into the bathroom. He knew that something had happened last night, something important, but he couldn’t get his mind to settle down enough for him to figure it out.

It was when he came out of the bathroom that he finally remembered Derek’s date and his residency at the bar. He remembered the awkward drive to Derek’s apartment and the even more awkward attempt at a kiss. He remembered how Derek’s lips felt, slightly chapped but still wonderful. He remembered Derek pushing him away and telling him no. He remembered bedding down on the couch but not sleeping. Finally, he made his way into Derek’s room and crawled into bed with him. Derek had latched onto him right away and didn’t let go.

Stiles walked quietly through the house and out into Derek’s hallway. He crept down the stairs and outside before he let himself remember how nice it felt to be held by Derek. He had never felt safer, never felt more loved than he had there.

Before Stiles knew it, he was crying.

He loved Derek. That was why it had taken him so long to find somebody else for him. That was why he had gotten so drunk during Derek’s date. That’s why he had called him and kissed him and crawled into bed with him. He loved Derek.

But Derek didn’t love him back. He’d agreed to being set up. He had gone on the date with Alexandria. Stiles knew how awesome Alexandria was. After all, he was the one who had personally vetted her. Derek would never choose Stiles over her.

********

For three days, Stiles stayed in his room. He ignored every text message, every Skype call, every phone call that came his way. His dad had knocked on the door a few times, but he never could stay long. One of his deputies had just had a little girl, and the Sheriff was covering her hours until a more permanent arrangement could be made.

Finally, it seemed that Scott had had enough. Stiles was curled up on his bed with his laptop, when he glanced up at the noise of Scott crawling in through the window.

 

“Where have you been, Stiles?” he said.

“Here,” Stiles said. His voice sounded rough and sandpapery from disuse.

“Why weren’t you answering your phone?” Scott said, advancing into the room.

“I didn’t want to talk to anyone”.

Scott sat down next to him on the bed. “What happened, Stiles?”

“Nothing I want to talk about,” Stiles said, his attention going back to the movie.

Scott sighed and watched along with him for a few minutes.

Finally, he said, “Man, you reek.”

Stiles smiled. “Probably. I haven’t showered in days.”

“Why don’t you take a shower, and then we’ll play some CoD. I have a feeling I can take you this time”.

“Okay,” Stiles agreed. The two of them spent the rest of the day playing video games like they had in high school. It was one of the best days they’d had in a long time.

********

After that, Stiles participated in the world a little bit more. He went shopping with Cora and Lydia. He had target practice with Allison, played video games with Scott and Isaac, surprisingly deep conversations about politics and books with Boyd and Danny. But every time Derek called or texted him, he ignored it even though it felt a little like he was tightening ropes around his chest every time he did it.

He either ignored or never saw the worried looks his friends shot at him when he turned the ringer on his phone off.

After two weeks of being back out in the world, Lydia texted him one day: Party at my place tonight. Bring the dip.

Stiles texted her back to see if Derek was going, but she never replied. He contemplated not going, but he knew that Lydia would skin him alive in some new and exciting way that didn’t involve knives but would be twice as painful.

When he walked into her house at the time she had sent him, he found most of the pack already there, spread out over her furniture.

“Stiles,” said Lydia. She was seated in the center of the floor with two bowls in front of her. “You’re just in time. We were going to start a game.”

“Okay,” said Stiles. He sat the dip down next to the four bowls of chips and then sat down on the sofa next to Boyd. Derek was standing in the corner, but Stiles forced himself not to look his way.

He had barely sat down when Isaac looked up from his phone and said, “It’s time.”

Cora grabbed her phone and dialed a number. “Guys, time’s up. Get down here”.

Scott and Allison walked guiltily down the stairs a few minutes later. Allison’s hair was messed up and half of Scott’s shirt was untucked.

“Whose turn is it now?” Scott asked after he sat down next to Stiles.

“Let’s find out,” Lydia said. She put her hands in the bowls and mixed up the papers a little before bringing out two slips. “The next two people to play 7 Minutes in Heaven are Stiles and Derek.”

Stiles saw Derek nod and then walk forward out of his corner. He grabbed Stiles’ hand and pulled him to his feet.

“Wait!” Stiles asked worriedly, “Wait, is this some kind of setup?”

Nobody answered him. Derek just pulled him along until they were in Lydia’s bedroom and sitting on her bed. Stiles looked down at his hands.

“Stiles,” Derek said. He still didn’t look up.

“Stiles,” Derek said more gently, “About three months ago, we sat up here in this room, and you asked me a series of questions about the type of person I wanted to be with. About three months ago, I sat up here with the person I wanted the most and described him exactly while he took notes to find somebody for me. I didn’t realize then that he was going to take it so seriously, that he would diligently search until he found someone who fit my criteria, never realizing that it was him who fit the criteria best, who had always fit the criteria. When he told me about Alexandria and asked me to go out with her, I couldn’t say no, even though it was like jabbing a pipe through my stomach. So I went, and I had a nice time. We had a lot to talk about, but I still spent the entire time wishing he was the one with me.

“Later that night, he called me to get a ride, and I foolishly thought that he was going to confess his feelings to me. But he kept calling me Danny. I couldn’t get that out of my mind even when he tried to kiss me. So I broke off the kiss and told him to sleep on the couch.

“Even later that night, when he crawled into my bed, I wrapped my arms around him. I was happy. I was content. Until I woke up the next morning to find him gone. He wouldn’t respond to my calls or texts, and he ignored all our friends. He finally let our friends in, but he still ignored me. So, I ended up asking one of them to hold a party so that I could get him alone and tell him how much I respect and admire him, how I miss his voice when he doesn’t talk to me, how he makes me want to talk more, and how much I love him.”

Derek’s voice caught on the last three words, but Stiles didn’t need to hear anymore. He immediately cupped Derek’s face in his hands and kissed him. Derek kissed back. Soon they were both lost in the feel of each other’s lips.

When Derek’s phone rang for them to return to the living room, Derek reached out for it and crumpled the phone in his fist. When Stiles’ rang next, he just ignored it.

The others could wait.