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Stiles was awoken at three o'clock in the morning to a high-pitched screeching noise. At first he closed his eyes and tried to ignore it, but after a while he decided he'd rather not die in a fire. Stiles had lived in this apartment for over a year. In that time there had never been any kind of fire drill or evacuation, so now was as good a time as ever; he just wished it wasn't three o'clock in the freaking morning. He had to leave for work in five hours for god's sake. Groaning, Stiles rolled out of bed and picked up a red hoodie from the floor, shrugging it on. The only other things he was wearing were boxers and socks, so he didn't bother covering them up. He attempted to tame his rumpled hair and reached for his phone on his bedside table, putting it in his pocket. By this point the annoying fire alarm had been dulled into background noise as Stiles shuffled out the door and made his way to the downstairs foyer. He still wasn't fully awake or aware and was rubbing sleep from his eyes.
The hallway was quiet and the few people around were making their way to the emergency exit stairwell, all in various states of undress. The level Stiles was on only had a few occupants and it seemed most had already made their way down in a rush. Stiles hadn't even considered for a second that this wasn't a drill and his heartbeat slowly picked up. Why hadn't he rushed like everyone else? Why hadn't he grabbed his valuables?
What valuables, you idiot he thought to himself, grimacing.
He made it to the stairwell and started stumbling down the stairs, sharing the long walk down with three other people. Stiles hadn't really socialised with his neighbours, but he'd seen them around. He occasionally nodded to them or said hello. In the stairwell, there was an old lady who appeared to be holding a safe, a man with a cane who Stiles assumed was blind and the beautiful redhead from two doors down. Stiles was never brave enough to approach her. That lady looked like hell in high heels and somehow even managed to look flawless at three o'clock. Stiles envied her.
The stairwell took them down to the bottom floor and they all filed out, going their own ways. Stiles didn't have any friends in the building, so he just started walking to a random corner in the foyer. It wasn't until too late that he realised exactly where, or who, he was walking too. Ever since Stiles had moved in, he may or may not have had a small crush on his grumpy but hot neighbour. They'd never actually said anything to each other, but Hot andvGrumpy Neighbour always grunted at him; his own kind of greeting. He was always entering and exiting his apartment alone, so Stiles deduced from his fine sleuthing skills that he lived by himself. Meaning he was single. But unfortunately Stiles had never worked up the courage to talk to him, let alone ask him out. He didn't even know if he swung that way. All he knew was the guy definitely worked out and had eyebrows that were very good at expressing his emotions. Especially when eyeing Stiles as he juggled coffee and groceries whilst trying to open his door.
Stiles stopped dead on his path towards Hot and Grumpy and immediately his eyes were drawn to his crotch, where a tight, pink, pair of underwear was. Pink underwear. That’s it. Stiles eyes slowly made their way up to the guys face. He pretended he didn’t notice the impressive six pack and very muscular arms. Stiles felt himself flushing bright red as he made eye contact. Grumpy and Hot's amazing eyebrows had practically jumped past his hairline. Stiles was still having a hard time processing the pink underwear and didn’t realise he was just standing there staring at the glorious specimen in front of him.
“Uuhh were you in a rush or something?” Stiles asks stupidly, looking down to the guy's crotch again and shoving his hands into his pockets.
Somehow Hot and Grumpy’s eyebrows rose further.
“I thought the building was on fire and my life was in danger, so, no, I wasn’t in a rush at all.” he drawled, crossing his arms over his chest.
Choosing to ignore the sarcastic comment, Stiles decided to say something stupid yet again.
“That’s a nice pair of underwear”
Hot and Grumpy actually blushed and looked away. He mumbled something that Stiles didn’t catch.
“Sorry, what was that?” Stiles asked.
“I said: it’s my last pair. I need to do washing.” the guy said louder, blushing more.
“Ah right, yeah, I get ya. So like, do you have a whole range of colours then?” Stiles joked, internally slapping himself and cursing his lack of a filter.
The guy blinked and looked pained. Stiles took pity on him.
“Ha anyway! Who knows how long we’ll be here, so I may as well introduce myself. I’m Stiles.” he said cheerfully.
“Stiles?” the guy said skeptically, eyebrows scrunching together.
“Yep, it’s not my real name of course, but that’s a story for another day. And you are?" Stiles prompted.
“Derek” the guy, Derek, grunted back.
“Cool cool, nice to meet you, Derek. We’ve lived next to each other for a while now, you know.” he pointed out. “I’m surprised we haven’t talked sooner, I mean, we always see each other…and stuff.”
“I don’t talk to many people in the building.” stated Derek.
It was probably a signal that he didn’t want to talk, but Stiles plowed on anyway. He’d always had a problem keeping his mouth shut. Plus, he was finally getting an excuse to talk to the one guy he’d been admiring for a year. Maybe he’d even work up the courage to do something about his little crush.
Stiles mouth obviously had other plans.
“Are you gay?” he blurted out, instantly regretting it and covering his mouth.
oh god oh god he’s going to kill me, he's going to kill me with his eyebrows, i’m so dead, Stiles thought to himself, internally screaming.
Derek turned to him, eyes wide.
“Is this because I wear pink underwear?” he asked
“No! No, I’m sorry!” Stiles apologised, blabbering. “Sometimes my mouth just says things and I don’t even mean them, I’m so sorry, oh God. Your pink underwear is great, okay, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Derek squinted at him, judging if Stiles was in fact being serious or joking.
“Do you still want an answer?” Derek queried.
Stiles’ mouth fell open.
Stiles shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Uuuh, well, yeah sure. If you want to give one.”
As cool as you can be, standing next to a practically naked wall of muscle.
“Yes, yes I am.” Derek said, trying to gauge Stiles’ reaction.
Somewhere in the room someone had made an announcement saying the fire alarm was just a false alarm and that everyone could go back to their appartments. People were grumbling, slowing filling up the elevators and leaving the foyer. Derek either didn’t seem to notice or wanted to hear Stiles’ reply.
“Wanna go out with me sometime?” Stiles blurted out.
As if he somehow knew this was going to happen, Derek gave him a small smile, eyebrows staying where they would normally sit on his face for once.
“Okay, sure. Maybe next time we see each other, I’ll be dressed.” he joked and started walking to the elevator.
Stiles stood dumbstruck in the corner. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He’d actually asked out his ridiculously gorgeous crush, who was only wearing underwear (pink underwear!), and he’d said yes?! It honestly felt like some kind of bizarre dream. All he wanted to do now was fall back into bed and figure out how to deal with it all the next day. Or the same day. Stiles then remembered he had work later and groaned. He made his way over to the lifts and stepped in. Somehow he found himself stuck with the same three people, only this time the red head was smirking at him, like she knew exactly what had just happened. It was kind of terrifying.
When Stiles woke up later that morning and was about to leave for work, he found a note shoved through the letter slot in his door. It was Derek’s phone number. Stiles practically melted from the cuteness of it all.