Summary: Stiles and Derek have been close friends since the Hale siblings moved in next door after their parents' death. But Derek's in the popular group, he's a star baseball player, and he dates popular Pep Squad captain Jennifer Blake. Stiles doesn't have any of that, just his skateboard and a hopeless crush on Derek (oh yeah, and his Vote Lydia Martin Prom Queen button). As prom and the baseball state championship grow closer, Stiles and Derek start rekindling their friendship.
And it all begins with two white boards.
Info: 38k | Mature | High School AU, Friends to Lovers | Warnings: Bullying
Notes: High school AUs are my jam but this one!!!! This has been on my to-read list for ages now so I honestly don’t know why it took me so long to read it but I stayed up until 2am even though I had work the next day. Also, even if you don’t like her, listen to “You Belong With Me” by Taylor Swift for full feels :D -C
Sneak Peek:
In the house next door, in the room whose window is so close Stiles can almost reach out and touch it, he sees Derek pacing back and forth. His cell phone is glued to his ear, his hand running through his hair every few moments which causes it to stand up in a state of general disarray. Stiles frowns as he watches the scene, because it reflects two things he hates:
1. Derek’s stupid hair looks so cute and touchable, which does nothing to help Stiles’ hopeless crush.
2. Derek’s fighting with his horrid girlfriend, Jennifer.
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i’ll update chapter one in a min so it’ll have all the links to previous chapters. but you can find this on ao3 here and chapter one is here... enjoy!
Spring training games come up faster than Stiles expected. Suddenly, he’s on the mound looking across the field at Danny in his mask. His hands are shaking he’s so nervous. It may not be an actual game yet, but still. How he performs at these games will determine the line up for real games.
He takes a deep breath to center himself, adjusting his hat methodically. He watches Danny’s fingers signal out their code, and then he throws a fastball that lands right in Danny’s mitt. Strike.
It’s a good way to start the game. After a couple innings, another pitcher replaces him, one that Stiles doesn’t know too well. He sits in the dugout next to Boyd and Derek, leaning back.
“Good job,” Derek tells him. “You only gave up one run.”
“Not bad for your first game,” Boyd agrees.
“Thanks, guys,” Stiles says, his mind still going over what he could do better, what he needs to work on more. His curveball could use some work.
He has to up his game if he wants to be kept in the majors. As a pitcher, there’s an even bigger chance that if he isn’t performing well enough that he’ll be sent back to AAA. He really doesn’t want that to happen, so he has to start training harder.
After the game and talking with the coaches, they all start to leave the field. Stiles catches up with Derek as he’s leaving.
“Derek!” he calls out.
Derek turns around to look at him curiously.
“I was wondering...could you help me with my curveball?” Stiles asks. “You have the best curveball in the MLB, so who better to get tips from?”
Derek ducks his head and shrugs. “I don’t have the best curveball...”
“You do,” Stiles says enthusiastically. “I’ve been following your career since you left Beacon Hills.”
Derek looks confused. “No one knows that. I’ve only ever said I’m from a small town in California.”
“Stilinski,” Stiles reminds him.
Derek’s eyes widen, and he almost gasps. “You’re the sheriff’s kid?”
“Yeah,” Stiles says, not thrilled with the word ‘kid’.
At this point they’ve walked all the way to Derek’s black camaro. Derek unlocks the door and leans his arm against the roof of the car. “You want help with your curveball?”
“Please,” Stiles practically begs. He will beg if that’s what Derek wants.
Derek nods. “Only because you’re the sheriff’s kid. Meet me here at six.”
“Six?” Stiles chokes on his own spit out of surprise.
“Six,” Derek reiterates.
Stiles nods. “I’ll be here.”
“See you then.”
*
Stiles is at the field before six, chugging coffee, black. It’s not his preferred way of drinking coffee. Usually, he adds milk and sugar, but that’s not healthy. Plus, too much sugar gets him riled up, and he doesn’t need to be riled up right now. He just needs to be awake and focused enough to not ogle Derek in his baseball pants.
Derek shows up a few minutes before six, and they walk into the locker room together. “So tell me more about you following my career,” Derek says when he takes off his shirt.
Stiles immediately looks away and focuses on getting his stuff ready. “Uh, my dad’s a huge fan. He just liked seeing someone from Beacon Hills be recognized for something good, you know?”
“I asked about you, not your dad.”
“I liked seeing someone from Beacon Hills get to the majors,” Stiles says, taking his shirt off. “You were kind of my motivation and inspiration. You showed me I could do it.”
Derek doesn’t say anything, so after Stiles gets his Dbacks shirt on, he looks at Derek, who is already looking back. There’s something in Derek’s eyes that Stiles can’t name.
“That...is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Derek says quietly.
“Well, it’s that plus you know, I’m madly in love with you,” Stiles jokes because he has to joke about it or he’ll really spill the beans.
Derek’s eyebrows raise in shock, but then he sees Stiles’ smile. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head, but he’s smiling too. “You’re an idiot.”
“An idiot you’re gonna help,” Stiles reminds him.
Derek nods. “Yup. Let’s get out there.”
Stiles stands at the mound, and Derek plays catcher, calling out tips with each throw. Slowly, Stiles’ curveball starts to improve. Not a lot because it’s only been thirty minutes, but enough that Stiles can see the difference.
Derek catches the ball one last time, stands up, and jogs over to Stiles. He pats Stiles on the shoulder. “Good job.”
Stiles is dying inside at the touch and the compliment. “Thanks,” he says, sounding tired, which he is.
Derek slides his hand off Stiles’ shoulder, and it almost feels lingering, but that’s definitely Stiles’ imagination.
Stiles rolls his shoulders and his neck as they walk back to the locker room where everyone else is by now. Danny and Boyd greet Derek when he walks in and then both of them look surprised to see Stiles.
“You’re here early, rookie,” Boyd comments.
Stiles shrugs. “Derek helped me with my curveball.”
“Yeah?” Danny says. “Bet he helped you put your wrist into it.” For some reason, Boyd and Danny start laughing.
“I missed something,” Stiles says slowly.
“You missed nothing,” Derek grumbles, glaring at the two other men, shoulder checking Boyd as he walks by.
Stiles definitely missed something, but no one is gonna tell him what so he just walks to the gym instead. He walks slowly on the treadmill to warm up and then works up to a jog. He increases the incline and jogs faster. He was known for how fast he could run the bases in AAA, and he wants to maintain that reputation.
After thirty minutes, the pitching trainer tells him he has five minutes to cool down and be on the field, so Stiles slows down. His arm is already sore, but he has to keep practicing. Fortunately, it’s Thursday, and he’ll be off for three days soon. He just has to make it through today.
And he does. Barely.
*
Stiles stands in the shower, under the spray for a very long time. The hot water helps relax his sore muscles, and he’ll definitely have to get a massage soon, especially on his right arm.
When he gets out of the showers, Derek is the only one left in the locker room. Stiles stops in the doorway while Derek looks up. There’s a towel covering Stiles’ crotch and thighs, but he feels so exposed for some reason. Derek’s eyes flick down and up almost imperceptibly quick, before he looks away.
Stiles feels flustered as he walks towards his locker and gets his clothes on. When he’s done, Derek is waiting by the door.
“What’s up?” Stiles asks because Derek is staring at him again.
“Uh,” Derek says then looks down. “We’re having a game night at my place tomorrow night. There will be no beer, but it should be fun.”
“What kind of games?” Stiles asks, getting his hopes up that Derek is trying to invite him to game night.
“Board games,” Derek answers, looking back up. “Maybe some card games, but I take my collection of board games almost everywhere. It’s a good way to unwind, especially during the stress of the season.”
Stiles nods, agreeing with Derek. “What time?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll text you?” Derek looks almost nervous, which Stiles didn’t know was possible.
“Do you have my number?” Stiles is sure he doesn’t because Stiles doesn’t have Derek’s.
Derek shakes his head and takes a step closer, handing Stiles his phone. “I know you’re in love with me and all, so I trust that you won’t give my number out.”
“I won’t,” Stiles immediately promises as he gingerly takes Derek’s phone. He inputs his number then hands it back. “I would never ruin my chance at game night. Or with you.” He smirks and winks at Derek.
Derek fumbles with the phone and almost drops it before clearing his throat. “Yeah, uh. Right. So I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you.” They walk out together and then part ways to get to their cars.
Stiles can’t believe he’s going to see Derek Hale’s place tomorrow night. Stiles can’t believe Derek Hale himself invited him. Man, he is really living the life.
If only Derek was gay and in love with Stiles too.
I'm just picturing professional baseball player Derek Hale getting heckled by a fan as he stands near third base.
Said fan is tall with mess brown hair and is wearing his hat backwards as he yells at Derek. Usually he just tunes it out, but this guy is cute and the way he waves his hands is kind of distracting.
It's the top of the third and they're already up by 5 runs so Derek allows himself to listen to the fan.
"Hale! Hale! I know you're not a pitcher or a catcher but would you do either with me?"
Derek can feel his ears burning red and is very thankful that the fan can't see it.
The next inning he hears, "Derek! You're ass looks delightful in those pants."
The game keeps going and the fan keeps yelling, he can't even call it heckling, it's more like the guy is hitting on him.
So the game ends and he's signing some kids hats and taking pictures when he sees the guy standing a few rows back, a little smirk on his face when Derek catches his eye.
"Want an autograph?" Derek calls and he sees the guy step forward.
"Sure thing," He said, holding out his hat. "Make it out to Stiles."
"What's a Stiles?"
"My name."
Derek laughed and signed the hat, handing it back and grinning as Stiles saw the 7 digits on it, his eyes widening.
"That's a phone number."
"Yep."
"I'll call you then," Stiles said, his eyes still wide.
And he did.
A few years later Stiles sat on the third baseline, hat backwards and a Hale jersey on. The game ended with a win for the Dodgers, Derek hitting a walk-off homer to win.
After the game he did his usual routine of signing autographs and then he walked over to Stiles, pulling him into a kiss for the whole world to see and then pulled out a ring.
Stiles obviously said yes and the proposal made the top ten plays on Sports Center, so did the walk off home run, but no one was talking about that.
Derek Hale is the third baseman for the Los Angeles Dodgers. Stiles doesn’t know why he has an apparent thing for third basemen and he has no clue why he’s even watching the Dodgers. He’s a Mets fan.
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You Can Cry Wolf, But Stop Running (1/1 | 16,615 | Rated E)
Derek Hale is the third baseman for the Los Angeles Dodgers. Stiles doesn’t know why he has an apparent thing for third basemen and he has no clue why he’s even watching the Dodgers. He’s a Mets fan.
An Unexpected Changeup (1/1 | 1,355 | Rated PG-13)
Derek is a minor league baseball player for the Northern California Wolverines. And he's been pining after his coach's son, Stiles, since he was hired as their event manager.
Out of His League (4/4 | 11,040 | Rated E)
Derek's going to be the best ballplayer ever, if Stiles doesn't kill him first. Or vice versa.
In which Stiles is a personal trainer, and Derek is the shortstop for the LA Dodgers.
call it a wild card (1/1 | 18,400 | Rated PG-13)
"Are you done fanboying, or should I give you a few more minutes?" Erica asks, the smirk and her words clearly directed at Stiles, who's still standing and gaping, but Derek can't help but feel there's a jibe at him hidden in there somewhere, too. The words snap the guy out of his daydream - and Derek is absolutely not wondering what was going on in his head - and he clears his throat, arching an eyebrow. "Derek, I'd like you to meet your new bodyguard, Stiles Stilinski."
Moon Dogs (13/13 | 19,948 | Rated E)
Derek spends the summer season playing for the Mankato Moon Dogs, hoping to catch the eye of a major league scout. He doesn't count on someone catching his eye.
Take Me Out (to the Ballgame) (5 works | 10,812 | Not Rated)
Stiles hates baseball but ends up going to a game with Scott and Allison and surprisingly starts to get into it when player Number 24 steps up to bat.
Extra Innings (9/9 | 37,641 | Rated E)
Stiles Stilinski is a minor league baseball catcher who just got promoted. Derek Hale is a star major league pitcher with a knee injury who just got sent down to the minors. Stiles is drawn to Derek, but the further invested he gets, the more questions arise. Why does team owner Chris Argent have it out for Derek? Why is Derek so emotionally constipated? And what the hell is Coach Finstock going on about? Minor league baseball has more intrigue than Stiles ever imagined.
Sox and Bombers (1/1 | 17,449 | Rated E)
They didn’t normally discuss their games in deference to the sanctity of their respective teams and the ancient Yankees/Red Sox rivalry, but Derek had to admit it was nice to combine shoptalk and pillow talk with someone who understood. Still, Stiles was the enemy, even if Derek did spend an awful lot of time consorting with him. If by consorting you meant fucking him into the mattress.
The Pitcher's Pitcher (1/1 | 3,311 | Rated E)
Every single time an announcer or sports reporter would ask Derek Hale that the secret to his success was as a baseball player, he would give a variation of the exact same answer.
"It's all thanks to Stiles."
The reporters would nod, acting like they understood but their thoughts were not even close to the truth.
This Might Be Irony (1/1 | 38,340 | Rated M)
Stiles and Derek have been close friends since the Hale siblings moved in next door after their parents' death. But Derek's in the popular group, he's a star baseball player, and he dates popular Pep Squad captain Jennifer Blake. Stiles doesn't have any of that, just his skateboard and a hopeless crush on Derek (oh yeah, and his Vote Lydia Martin Prom Queen button). As prom and the baseball state championship grow closer, Stiles and Derek start rekindling their friendship.
When Stiles first meets Derek he has no idea who he is, to be fair he grew up in a lacrosse obsessed town, baseball wasn’t a big deal and when he moved to NYC for school, his classes and work took up his time, he didn’t have time to learn about baseball and the city’s super rookies.
“I haven’t been on a skateboard in like two years.”
“Chicken.”
“You did not just call me chicken.”
“Oh, I think I did.” Stiles smirks and crosses his arms over his chest. “Too good for skateboards, I see how it is. Or maybe you’re just afraid of falling on your ass.”
“Such a dick,” Derek mutters as he gets on the skateboard. He’s a little unsteady on his feet, but he pushes off and rolls past Stiles. He smirks and then flicks Stiles off…which upsets his balance. Derek’s arms windmill around, and Stiles watches as the skateboard shoots one way and Derek falls backward.
“Derek!” Stiles yells, running over to where Derek’s splayed on his back on the pavement, and drops to his knees. “Derek! Can you hear me? Oh god, I’ve killed you. You’re dead. Derek!”
“I fell,” Derek groans, “I didn’t break my ears. I’m not fucking deaf.”
“Are you hurt?” Stiles asks, his hands hovering back and forth over Derek’s body, unsure what to do.
“If you’ve like broken your back, I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to move – OH GOD, YOU’RE MOVING!”
“Still not deaf,” Derek says as he pushes himself into a sitting position. He rubs his shoulder and then his butt gingerly. “Fuck you. This is your fault.”
“How is this my fault?” Stiles exclaims. “You’re the idiot who fell!”
