Stiles gets belligerently drunk at some shitty dive bar after work one night and drunk dials Derek by accident. Heβs there alone. His coworkers have long abandoned him, probably to go to a different bar, but they neglected to tell Stiles who had been in the bathroom pissing for the 8th million time (he has a small bladder, okay?). So heβs feeling like shit and this really ugly sweaty guy starts hitting on him and getting up in his business.
He had meant to call Scott, really, but Derek had been his most recent call (a business meeting, really, Derek briefly talked about his dad from work and Stiles rambled about anything and everything until his shift had started).
So it was an accident that Derek was called. And it was an accident that he heard the guy demean and belittle Stiles in a cheap ploy to back him into the utility closet bathroom. Stiles feels trapped. Heβs looking in every direction for a familiar face but heβs so drunk and he canβt recognize anyone, not even the bartenders. He starts to doubt if heβs really at his regular bar.
The guys meaty paw lands on his shoulder and heβs talking a mile a minute. Heβs so fucking scared right now, but trying to pretend heβs not.
The guy doesnβt get much further than that because somehow, sometime between his babbling cries and pleas, Derek made it just in time. Stiles is pretty sure he burst into tears at the sight of that beautifully scowling face as he physically removes the hand from Stiles and bends it back until the guy is pathetically bleating about how he was just joking, he wouldnβt have actually done that, thatβs not the kind of guy he is and how dare Derek accuse him as such. Stiles doesnβt know, heβs crying now, throwing himself at Derek who wordlessly gathers the lanky body to his and drags him outside.
The air outside is cool. Itβs a balm to Stiles who is pretty sure heβs overheating. He takes in a gasp of air in between thank-youβs and apologies and thank-gods.
Derek is silent through the words, just dragging Stiles to the sensible SUV he got years ago.
βHow did you know?β Stiles blubbers.
βYou called, I came,β Derek replied. Stiles cries harder because it was so thoughtful and he just loves him so much. And then he realizes he just said that out loud. Derekβs knuckles go white on the steering wheel but he remains silent. The radio isnβt even playing. The car is filled with the sounds of Stilesβ hiccuping breaths and shuddering sobs. Heβs so fucking wasted. He just wants to go home.
βThatβs where weβre going,β Derek replies.
βIβm sorry,β Stiles replied. βIβm drunk, you can ignore me and we can go back to being normal and you can go back to hating me and Iβll go back to being unhappily single and it will all be fine and weβll just be friends.β
βWhatβ¦β Derek licked his lips nervously. βWhat if I donβt want that?β
βYou donβt want to be friends?β Stiles sobs. He fucking ruined everything. Him and his big fucking mouth and his alcohol intolerance.
βNoβwhat. Fuck. What ifβ¦ I wanted to be more?β Stiles suddenly goes very quiet, just staring at Derek. βLetβs talk about this tomorrow. Youβre upset and drunk and you need some sleep and some breakfast.β Stiles just nods, stunned.
