#kkartter

2

It was clear to Stiles that telling Derek simply and directly just wasn’t going to work. He had to come up with something bigger, something less easy for Derek to ignore and brush off. Something that told him without question that Stiles was into him and wanted to take him out. Stiles was sitting in an Early American History lecture, his mind wandering as he scrolled through Reddit on his phone, ignoring whatever his professor was droning on about. The idea hit him as he read through a thread about weird cakes. He’d order a cake with his intentions spelled out for Derek. Stiles spent the rest of the class focused more on his idea than the lecture. When it ended, he had no clue if they had any readings assigned, only that the professor had told them to have a good weekend and that was all the cue Stiles needed to leave. He threw his book into his backpack and fled the classroom, rushing to the parking lot and his Jeep, ready to head to the bakery down the street.  The hardest part of this whole plan was choosing which cake to get. Stiles realized as he was staring at a display of several different cakes that he had no clue what kind of cake Derek liked best. The girl behind the counter had sent him several pointed glances before Stiles finally sighed and settled on double chocolate. He had her write on the cake in white icing, “Will you go out with me?”. There was no way Derek would misunderstand that. Except Stiles hadn’t anticipated the entire pack being at Derek’s and nobody even caring why the cake was purchased, only that there was cake and it needed to be eaten. So when Derek finally got to the kitchen to have a piece of the cake, the only words left visible were a disjointed, “Wil go wit.” Stiles was cleaning up the remnants of the cake later that night when Derek came by the kitchen to help. They worked together in silence for a few minutes, Derek drying plates as Stiles washed them, before Derek spoke up, his voice soft and warm. “Thank you for the cake,” he said, his fingertips brushing over Stiles’ as he took a plate from him. “Everyone seemed to enjoy it.” "Did you?" Stiles asked, trying to keep his tone light. It wasn’t Derek’s fault he didn’t get to read the message. Derek nodded. “Chocolate’s my favorite.” Stiles couldn’t help but feel a small burst of pride in his choice. And even if this wasn’t quite what Stiles had in mind when he bought the cake, it was enough to make him want to try again. 3

Stiles’ next idea occurred to him just a few days later. He and Derek were once again sorting through different bestiaries trying to figure out how to handle the same threat they’d been working on for weeks now. The radio was playing in the background and it was a dedication and request hour. Stiles smiled to himself as he listened to several different requests from the listeners to their significant others. Surely Derek would catch it if he called a request in? Stiles didn’t give himself time to talk himself out of this idea. He excused himself from the table and stepped outside, dialing the number of the radio station on his cell phone and hoping they’d pick up his call. It rang a few times and then he somehow got an answer. He was patched through to the host and before he knew it, he was telling the woman his name and about how much he liked Derek and that he wanted to let him know in a way that he couldn’t miss. The host listened while Stiles spoke and then said that she’d play a song for him. Stiles was on the line just long enough for the host to announce the song before he hung up and stepped back into the house. Stiles could hear the host talking about her next caller on the radio as he stepped into the kitchen, watching Derek closely. As he stepped up to the table, Stiles recognized the beginning of the conversation he had with her. But instead of listening to the dedication, Derek reached over to switch off the radio, clearly having something to tell him. The frustrated expression he wore earlier was gone as he looked up at Stiles, “There you are. I think I figured out what we’re dealing with.” Well, there went that plan. 4

Stiles’ next plan took a few weeks to come to fruition, mostly because he had to save up enough funds to cover the expense. When he did, Stiles stopped by the local flower shop to order several bouquets with cheesy valentine themed phrases tucked among the blooms and a card with his own handwritten message in the largest bouquet. He scheduled to have the flowers delivered while he was in class the next day so that he could stop by Derek’s directly after to get his answer. Stiles spent his whole day at school anxiously waiting for the day to end. Once again, he didn’t know most of what his professors had gone over, only that time was slowly ticking toward the hour when he could meet with Derek and get his answer. Only, when Stiles got to Derek’s, the flowers were piled up in the trashcan at the curb. His chest ached at the sight and he wanted nothing more at that moment than to turn around and mourn the dismissal of his gesture. Derek must have hated the flowers and probably the very idea of going out with Stiles. He sighed and climbed the front steps and knocked before stepping into the house. He had to at least see why Derek didn’t want him. What Stiles found wasn’t what he had expected. Derek was standing in the kitchen, red-eyed and sniffling, tissues in hand. He looked awful. "Okay?" Stiles asked, more curious now than upset. Derek shook his head, settling to lean against the counter as he spoke to Stiles, his voice nasally. “Someone sent over a ton of flowers. Flowers that I happen to be allergic to. I had to carry them all out to the trash.” Stiles stared back at Derek in surprise, he had no idea that werewolves could be allergic to things. “But, I thought being a werewolf meant you had like a super immune system?” Derek sighed, swiping the tissue at his nose. “We can still have allergies. I had a cousin that was allergic to peanuts.” "Huh," was all Stiles could supply.  5

Stiles was proud of himself. He’d asked Derek out and he had said yes. He’d managed to get through to Derek and they were going on a date. Just the two of them. Dinner and bowling and maybe a walk through downtown and hopefully a kiss goodnight.  Except when Stiles arrived at the restaurant he had agreed to meet Derek at, it wasn’t just Derek there. It was Derek and the entire fucking pack. Scott waved excitedly at Stiles as he stepped into the lobby, an arm around Kira’s waist. “Hey, man! About time you got here, we’ve been waiting like fifteen minutes.” Stiles tried his best to put on a smile, to not feel like his entire life was nothing more than a big joke. “Yeah, sorry, had to help my dad out at the house before I left.” He stepped up to Derek while Boyd and Erica spoke to the host, letting them know that everyone was accounted for. “So, you invited the pack?” He asked, glancing over at him, an eyebrow raised. Derek shrugged, “I thought that’s what this was?” "Yeah," Stiles said, looking ahead and avoiding Derek’s gaze. He was sure Derek could hear the lie and he really didn’t care. "Definitely, wouldn’t want to leave anyone out." When they were seated, Stiles deliberately chose a seat away from Derek, not wanting to subject himself to any more embarrassing misunderstandings. It was obvious that Derek didn’t like him the way he liked Derek. He’d even invited the entire pack on their date because he was just too nice to tell Stiles no outright. He needed to move on. The dinner went well enough, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. Kira and Malia got into a food catching competition, tossing grapes at each other’s mouths until the host came over and asked them to stop, at which point Malia declared herself the winner. Boyd and Erica were both lost in conversation with each other while Derek and Scott talked about different training techniques they’d like to use in the future. Stiles, for his part, watched all of this happen with an increasing sense of irritation, feeling left out and alone. Not only was his date ruined by his friends showing up, but nobody was bothering to try and include him. 5.5