for bleep0bleep, who has been a champion today, writing 24 fics in 24 hours. just the mere thought of all that writing makes my soul shrivel up, so here's to you, darling! we're so lucky to have you! 

Derek wakes up to a slew of missed calls on his phone. His first thought is panic, because since he moved only 5 people know his phone number, and one of them happens to be the Chinese delivery place around the corner.

It's not tragic, it's just a fact.

He doesn't recognize the number, and that actually makes it worse, because it could be anyone.

His fingers are trembling as he hit the green button, palms starting to sweat, and he swallows when he hears the tone ringing. It rings twice before a croaky voice answers with a weak,

"'Lo?"

"You called me fifteen times last night, I'm - "

He's cut off by a gigantic groan, and before he can even say anything else, he hears the click of the other person hanging up.

What the actual fuck.

+++

It keeps bugging him. It bugs him so much that throughout his discussion group, he forgets to notice the mouthy junior who usually argues with him about everything isn't in his usual seat. He only notices at the very end of the class, when he's handing papers out, and he frowns.

"Before I let you guys go," he starts, directing his gaze at the boy with floppy brown hair who he's seen passing notes with the junior more times than he can count. "I'd just like to remind you all that missing classes or these sessions is not advisable this close to finals." The boy shrinks in his seat, avoiding Derek's eyes, and for some reason, that makes him feel smug. "I'll see you guys next Thursday."

He's still smirking when the last person files out of the room, and he's packing his stuff in when he hears a knock on the door. He looks up, and mouthy junior is standing there sheepishly. He looks like shit, actually, he's got bags under his eyes and his cheeks are pale and sallow, not at all like their usual rosy color.

"You okay?" Derek's eyebrows furrow, and the kid - Derek knows his name, he has to stop referring to him as 'kid' - nods. Then winces. Derek has a sudden flashback to his undergrad years of excessive drinking and cursing every life decision ever made when he had to go to class the next morning.

for kasign.

edited for sterek purposes :>

Laura’s in the middle of one of her lectures when Derek catches sight of Stiles walking through the door. Every nerve in his body immediately stiffens, and he forces himself to relax before Laura notices. Unfortunately, Laura’s not the type to let anything pass her by. She pauses.

Stares him down.

Derek can feel his eye twitching, but he doesn’t break, and, he doesn’t look over to where Stiles is rocking back and forth on his heels, rubbing his hands together as he peruses the menu.

Okay, so he might not be looking over at Stiles, but he is aware of every movement Stiles is making.

He doesn’t whimper when Stiles swivels on his feet and catches sight of him and Laura. He doesn’t.

He also doesn’t notice the way Stiles purposefully strides towards them and plonks himself down onto the table over. Laura, however, does.

She kicks Derek under the table. “He’s cute,” she hisses, ignoring the way he grimaces. Derek scowls at her, reaching down to rub at his shin, and not-so-subtly glances over. Stiles is the picture of innocence, but Derek knows he heard Laura, because there’s a smirk that’s tugging at the corner of his mouth, his face carefully turned away so Laura can’t see.

“Laura,” Derek warns, and she makes a face.

“Oh come on, when was the last time you got laid? Like, six months?”

Derek inhales sharply. “Laura,” he whispers angrily, as Stiles chokes, and Laura turns to eye him suspiciously, but Stiles has his phone out, and he looks like he’s laughing on the screen, so she turns back to Derek, whose face is bright red at this point. He didn’t really need Stiles to know that he’d been on a fairly lengthy dry spell before they met nearly two months ago.

A dry spell Stiles had helped him relinquish. Multiple times.

“What? It’s not like it isn’t true,” she shrugs, unconcerned, and Derek clenches his jaw.

“You’re not exactly talking quietly,” he says, still angry. She makes another face, and stabs her fork into an innocent tomato slice.

“I’m just saying,” she mutters petulantly, dropping her gaze down to her plate, and Derek feels the sudden urge to apologize. He hasn’t done anything wrong though, so he shovels a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth to stop himself from saying anything. The mood has gone quiet and somber, and Derek’s wracking his brain for something to say that isn’t an apology, when Stiles clears his throat loudly, and Derek’s phone starts to vibrate in his pocket. He turns to him, sees Laura do the same in his periphery, and wrinkles his brow in confusion when Stiles is tapping his fingers in an irregular rhythm on the countertop, completely oblivious. Derek doesn’t pick up, because duh, Laura, but Stiles doesn’t seem fazed. In fact, his whole face brightens up when he reaches Derek’s voicemail. He settles in more comfortably in his chair, before he catches Derek’s gaze briefly, and he’s suddenly worried about the manic gleam his eyes.

He doesn’t know why, but he has the sudden feeling he should run far, far away.

“Hey,” Stiles’ voice has gone flirty, quiet enough, but still loud enough for both Derek and Laura to hear. Derek can feel his palms start to sweat. “I was just thinking about last night, and,” he pauses and laughs, low and pleased. Derek suddenly feels too-hot in his skin, and he knows he’s blushing. “So I thought I’d tell you now that you better not have plans on Saturday night, because I’m going to sit on your face.”

Derek feels a flash of lust zing through his belly, and he’s staring at Stiles in disbelief when Stiles hangs up, turns to him, and has the gall to wink. Laura, who misses the wink, looks both scandalized and impressed. She mouths ‘wow’ at Derek. “Oh my word,” she says softly, fanning herself. She glances at Stiles then back at Derek again, and a thoughtful look crosses her face.

“No,” he says, before she even opens her mouth.

“You could really use some pointers,” she argues, and before Derek can stop her, she leans over to tap Stiles on the shoulder. “Hi, I’m Laura.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow. “Stiles,” he offers, then laughs when Laura looks absolutely confused. “It’s a nickname. Don’t ask.”

“Alrighty then,” she relaxes into her seat with a smile, before kicking Derek in the shin. Again. “This idiot is my brother, Derek,” she says, not unkindly, and ignores the way Derek scowls at her. Stiles turns and directs a smile onto Derek. It’s hard to miss the way his eyes flick up and down his body as he blatantly checks Derek out, but Laura’s still talking, oblivious. “He’s a bit… Well, tragic is a bit mean, so we’ll stick with horrifically ungifted in the art of being smooth,” she was saying, and Derek wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill her, or himself.

Stiles bites a lip, looking like it’s killing himself not to laugh. “Is that so?”

Laura nods, and she pins Stiles with her most effective puppy dog expression. “I overheard you on the phone -“

“Did you?” Stiles asks, eyes wide, like it’s any news to him, and Derek falls a little bit in love with the smirk curling across his face. “I’m so sorry about that.”

Laura waves the comment away.

“No big, I was just wondering if you could give him some, I don’t know, pointers or something?” Stiles’ eyebrows flew up, and this time, he couldn’t hold back the snort. Laura sighs, put upon. “I know it sounds silly, but I just want him to be happy, you know?” Despite it all, Derek feels a rush of fondness for his older sister. “I think he’s forgotten how.”

Or maybe not.

“Didn’t you have a meeting to get to?” Derek butts in rudely, watching in satisfaction as Laura glances at her watch and swears.

“Please, at least think about it,” she begs Stiles, as she’s standing and double checking she has everything in her bag.

Stiles shrugs. “I don’t see why not? I’m free right now, so if Derek’s not busy…” he trails off, and Laura squeals in delight.

“He’s free until six!” she hollers, before bending down to hug Stiles quickly. “Thanks, cutie,” she winks, and leans over the table to kiss Derek on the cheek. “Try to remember how to flirt, grumpy puss,” she teases, but her voice is fond, and she laughs when Derek scowls at her. “Love you.”

“Yeah, you too,” he sighs, and she disappears, leaving him with the check. Again.

Damn her.

He belatedly remembers Stiles, who’s watching him with a soft look on his face. “I’m so sorry about her,” he says lamely, and is totally not expecting the way Stiles throws his head back to laugh.

“Are you kidding? That was hilarious,” he says, glancing out the window to where Laura’s disappearing into a cab, shooting them a final wave. “You’re not smooth?” he asks, before he hums thoughtfully. “I seem to recall you being pretty smooth when we met.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but Stiles can tell he’s pleased. “Laura is Laura. She has her own ideas about things,” he says, and hooks his ankle around Stiles’ under the table.

Stiles bites his lip, and smiles up at Derek slyly. “I really am free right now, if you wanna?” he waggles his eyebrows, and despite how ridiculous he looks, Derek can hear the heat underneath the words, and he nods.

Stiles beams at him.

+++

When Derek brings Stiles to dinner the next Friday, Laura’s smug for about ten seconds before they tell her they’d been dating the entire time.

for lycaonthropic, because she deserves the world. but i can only give her a dumb fic. happy belated birthday, beautiful.

"Would you ever turn down a morning blowjob?" Stiles asks Scott, before he's even halfway through the door. It's just after noon, and Stiles has been sitting in the same spot on the couch pondering this question in between bites of leftover egg rolls and vegetable lo mein. He misses the way Scott trips over the threshold, and it's only werewolf reflexes that keeps him from toppling face-first into the floor.

Honestly, Stiles is still reeling in shock from Derek's casual rejection this morning that he really doesn't notice. Or care. To be fair, it wasn't so much a rejection as it was a raincheck. But still. Who would postpone a blowjob?

He feels the couch settle underneath Scott's weight, and he makes a face. "Well?" he turns to face Scott, who has a look on his face like he thinks Stiles is crazy. Stiles is more than familiar with this specific look.

"No," Scott decides. "I suppose not. Why?"

"I just tried to wake Derek up with a blowjob, and he literally tapped the top of my head and said 'snooze button'. Snooze button," he emphasized, waving his hands in the air, when a horrible thought struck him. "Oh god, what if I'm bad at blowjobs!" he wails, and Scott looks so far out of his depth, it would be funny if Stiles hadn't just realized his blowjobs sucked.

"I'm sure they're fine, Stiles," Scott tries, and Stiles buries his head in his hands.

"How would you know?" he demands, his gaze dropping to his hands. Scott winces, and makes an uncomfortable noise.

"I'm just assuming?"

"That doesn't make me feel any better!" Stiles whines, shoving at Scott's shoulder, which isn't fair. Scott's trying, at least. "I'm sorry, it's just..." he trails off, suddenly shy.

"Hey man, you know you can tell me anything," Scott tells him earnestly, holding Stiles' gaze bravely. "Even if it's about... y'know," he motions towards Stiles and makes an obscene gesture with his hands. Stiles makes a face. "Exactly," Scott says, looking relieved. "Even if it's about that."

"It was just weird, I mean what if he regrets being with me or something, because I'm weird and now we found out that I suck at blowjobs," Stiles' tone is light, but he can't fool Scott. The uncertainty is clear on his face.

"You don't suck at blowjobs!" Scott vehemently claims, and Stiles can't resist. It's not in his nature to be serious about things anyway.

i ship you guys

ya got a purdy mouth

wow, it is extremely hot to me that you know how to make creme brulee and dont you dare say its easy