(515): Hey sorry for calling you so much last night. I mixed your number with the pizza guys, and he was running late
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.
"Sure, give me a second," he coughs, before digging through his bag. He pulls out Stilinski's - Stiles - paper, and belatedly remembers the bottle of aspirin tucked into the zipper at the back. He grabs that without thinking, before straightening up and glancing at Stiles. The poor guy is already asleep, cheek resting on his forearms where they're crossed on the table, and Derek walks over to him. Taps him lightly on the shoulder.
Stiles startles, his eyes flying open wide. "Shit, I'm sorry."
Derek waves him off.
"Don't worry about it." He hands Stiles the paper, watches his eyes light up at the A+ written on it, and has to bite back a grin when Stiles' gaze zips to his face. "It was a great paper," he shrugs, before handing Stiles the aspirin bottle. "Take some, and try to get some rest, you look like you had a rough night."
Stiles laughs a little self-deprecatingly, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. You know, the worst part of it is, I was so drunk last night, that I kept trying to call this random number instead of the pizza guy. I must've left him a million calls!" He dry swallows three of the aspirins immediately, and completely misses the way Derek's eyes have gone wide. "And then, this morning, at like, what? 7 in the morning? Whoever it was called me, and I was literally about to throw up and I hung up on him and I literally don't know how to apologize anymore. Is the situation even salvageable? We just don't know."
He looks up to find Derek staring at him with poorly-concealed horror.
"Oh, sorry, you probably have somewhere to be," he hops up, sways dangerously on his feet, before Derek catches him with a hand around his bicep, graciously ignoring the flush that spreads across Stiles' cheeks. "I'll get out of your hair, thanks for the, uh, paper, and this," he shakes the bottle of aspirin, before shoving it back into Derek's face. "This is yours, I almost forgot."
"Stiles," Derek interrupts, and the boy blinks in shock.
"You know my name?" he breathes, sounding amazed.
Derek rolls his eyes. "You think I wouldn't bother to learn your name when you called me out for being a misogynistic historian?"
Stiles winces. "I'm still sorry about that," he admits. Derek remembers the way Stiles had paled when Derek had calmly informed him that his thesis was on marginalized female historians in the early 8th century.
"What I'm saying," Derek emphasizes, raising his eyebrows. "Is that maybe you should just apologize, anyway, you never know - "
He's cut off by Stiles' face twisting, and he's barely able to step back before Stiles gets sick all over his shoes.
+++
Derek opens the door to his loft later that night to find Stiles sheepishly holding up a box of pizza.
"Apology pizza?" he tries, and Derek steps aside to let him in, smiling despite himself. "Wow, I mean, okay. I meant this was for you but I could always eat."
He plops himself down onto Derek's couch and they watch each other for a long moment before Stiles' gaze drops to Derek's mouth.
"Ah, fuck," Derek mutters, rubbing at his eyes. "I shouldn't do this."
Stiles sidles closer to where Derek's standing. "Why not?"
"Because it's literally against university rules," Derek sighs, staring sternly down at Stiles, who has shuffled a few inches closer. "And you threw up on my shoes. They were my good pair."
"I apologized for that, and I brought you pizza!" Stiles waves at the box on the table, without taking his eyes off Derek. "As for the TA thing, I can wait." He shrugs at Derek's expression. "It's like a week, and I've had more fun arguing with you this semester than going out onto those blind dates Scott set me up on. So..." he trails off. Shoots a bright smile at Derek. "I can wait."
Derek smiles back at him, and tells him to stay for a movie.
+++
Halfway through the third Iron Man movie, Derek's phone vibrates with a text.
He thumbs it open, and it's the same number from earlier, and it says,
hey sorry for calling you so much last night. I mixed your number with the pizza guy's, and he was running late, and I feel very strongly about pizza.
Derek's gaze flicks over to where Stiles is watching him carefully. The moment their eyes lock, a smile spreads across Stiles' face, and Derek can barely contain his own from stretching across his mouth as his fingers fly over the keypad. He types out a quick reply, and he slips the phone back into his pocket as Stiles' phone buzzes, and waits for Stiles to see his reply.
you'll just have to make it up to me then :)
Stiles slides right up to Derek and tangles their fingers together. He's still typing with one hand, and Derek's trying to read over his shoulder as his phone buzzes and Stiles drops his phone onto the couch.
anytime.
This time, Derek doesn't stop the grin that pulls at the corners of his mouth.
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Rule 1: Always post the rules.
Rule 2: Answer the questions that the person who tagged you asked you and write 11 new ones.
Rule 3: Tag 11 people and link them to the post.
Rule 4: Actually tell them you tagged them.
(I've done this meme so many times over the last couple years that I never bother tagging anyone anymore. Mainly bc I can't be bothered to write new questions...)
I was tagged by nuggetsobrien <3
1. Which Hogwarts house do you belong to and why do you think you’ve been sorted there?
Ravenclaw, definitely. I've been sorted there multiple times and I just know that I'm the right kind of bookish, knowledge loving person that belongs in that house.
2. Do you have any tattoos? If yes, what are they?
No, I don't. I have a stupidly low threshold for pain, so I've always been afraid to get one, but I've always wanted one. Something that I can incorporate fandoms and obsessions into as I go along in life.
3. The zombie apocalypse has begun! What’s your weapon of choice in the fight against the coming tide of animated corpses?
Crossbow! I've always thought this and after watching The Walking Dead for so long, I feel like that's definitely the right choice. Maybe carry a baseball bat or something bludgeon-y for backup.
4. What is your favorite white card in Cards Against Humanity?
There's a ton! Nubile slave boys. The entire Morman Tabernacle Choir. Harry Potter erotica. German dungeon porn. SO MANY GOOD ONES TBH. (lol I didn't even need to look these up. I've played this game a lot).
5. What band/artist that I probably haven’t heard of would you recommend?
I really like The Clarks, they're a local band from Pittsburgh that've been around for years. Born Too Late is my favorite of their songs. Not everyone has heard of Leonard Cohen. Most people know Hallelujah though. His music is some of my favorite.
6. Do you like to celebrate your birthday or do you prefer to let the day pass without many people knowing about it?
I like celebrating because we don't always have a reason to celebrate things and need to enjoy life whenever we can. :)
7. What is your favorite holiday? Why?
Halloween. Hands down. I love the costumes, the creepy decorations, the candy, the scary movies, carving pumpkins, scaring kids, haunted trails. Everything about Halloween is amazing.
8. If everything goes according to plan, what will your life be like twenty years from now?
This question scares me because my life is such a wreck right now I can't imagine anything going well, tbh. If things go the way we want, we'll probably have a house somewhere around here or on the west coast and have our own business that we don't have to report to every day and enough money to travel occasionally. I don't even want to imagine how things will look if they keep on the way they've gone the last five years or so.
9. What is the ring tone on your cell phone?
It was the Jem & the Holograms theme song, but I just changed it to the Jem Girls version for something different. I have the Rainbow Brite theme on my phone too for the day I'm tired of Jem.
10. What was your first fandom? What was your OTP?
The first fandom I was in was Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel. I didn't really ship much in Buffy other than the canon stuff. But in Angel, I really loved Cordy/Doyle (guh was I heartbroken).
The next fandom I was in that I shipped anything was Harry Potter. I started out shipping Harry/Draco and moved on to Harry/Snape before just shipping anything and everything.
11. What is something you learned in the last week?
I learned that I have some of the most incredible friends in the world. <333
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.
She kicks Derek in the shin, and he doesn’t even say a word.
(870): So I just tried to wake him up with a blow job and he literally touched the top of my head and said snooze button
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.
"Stiles!"
"Sorry, I couldn't help it," he raises his hands in surrender, and it's enough to distract him for a while.
"You suck," Scott complains, and Stiles waggles his eyebrows.
"Hell yeah I do," he grins. Scott literally looks like he's about to punch him, and Stiles is getting ready to duck out of the way when there's a knock on his door.
He dives to the floor just as Scott lunges for him, and there's a brief scuffle, before he manages to wrench the door open, all the while shoving his hand in Scott's face to keep him away. It might be playing dirty, but Scott's a werewolf. He can deal.
He's not expecting Derek there, looking as awkward as he did on their first date, when he wore an overly starched black dress shirt and brown shoes. Brown shoes. Lydia would've had a conniption.
They'd decided to stay in instead, and order takeout so Derek could watch the new Captain America movie in Stiles' sweats and an old Beacon Hills Police Department shirt that was too big for him but perfect on Derek.
He's smiling at the memory when he realizes he's still got Scott's face in his hands and Derek's shifting awkwardly on his feet.
"Shit, sorry, come in," he drops his hand from Scott's face, and steps to the side, letting out a little 'oof' when Scott takes the opportunity to jab Stiles in the side. "Scott, you can go now," he says unsubtly, and doesn't miss the way Derek's mouth twitches up into a smile briefly. It makes his heart thud in his chest, something he belatedly remembers both guys can hear. Too bad, he doesn't care. Derek looks downright adorable in a maroon thumbhole sweater, a gift from Stiles his birthday two months ago.
Scott stands there for a moment, watching Stiles carefully, as if to say "you're sure?"
Stiles nods, almost imperceptibly, and Scott beams at him. He skirts around Derek, but not before nodding at him with a wide smile, and patting him on the shoulder.
The door has just closed behind Scott, when Derek pins him with a look. A sexy look. Stiles wriggles in excitement, his cheeks flushing preemptively, but even while Derek is leaning forward, he can't really get the whole blowjob snooze button thing from this morning out of his head. So, before Derek gets to his mouth, Stiles inhales sharply, and blurts out,
"Why did you snooze button me?"
Derek loses his balance, toppling forward in surprise and accidentally headbutting Stiles in the face.
+++
"Ow," Stiles whines, when he finally comes to. His whole face aches. He's lying on his bed, where Derek must've carried him, and he's sitting at the edge of it, looking guilty as sin. "That hurt."
"No shit," Stiles says with a sigh, closing his eyes.
Derek clears his throat. "About this morning - "
"No, it's okay!" Stiles cuts in quickly. He just realized he doesn't actually want to know if he sucks at blowjobs, or if Derek wants to break up with him. Especially not right now. They only just got together. "You don't have to explain."
Derek looks like he's about to march into war without a weapon.
"You should hear it," he says seriously. Stiles heart sinks, and he opens his eyes to find Derek studying his feet.
Bastard should at least look him in the face when he breaks up with him.
"Okay." Stiles' voice is small, and it takes a bit of effort to make sure it doesn't crack.
Derek takes a deep breath, and opens his mouth -
"I'll be better at blowjobs, I swear!" Stiles nearly shrieks, the panic in his chest rising. He really, really doesn't want to lose Derek. "I'll practice, every day. But only on you! No one else! Or," he winces. "On like, toys and stuff, until I'm good at it. Please," his voice drops low, and he's not sure he wants to look at Derek, but he does it anyway. Derek looks gobsmacked. That's the only word for it.
"What?"
It's one word, and Stiles swallows against the lump in his throat. He's not got a lot left to lose anyway.
"I'm sorry I'm bad at blowjobs," he starts, and to his mortification, he can feel his eyes stinging. He holds the tears back by sheer force of will, and he stares at Derek seriously. "I'll get better at them. I just haven't had much practice, so I know I suck. But please don't leave because of it."
"I..." Derek looks lost for words, and Stiles feels like an idiot.
"Never mind," he mumbles. "This was stupid."
"You don't suck at blowjobs," Derek tells him, and Stiles' head snaps up.
"I don't?"
Derek shakes his head. "I don't want to break up with you. Not because of your blowjob ability, which is more than satisfactory, by the way," Derek's cheeks go pink, but they're no match to Stiles' own, which feels like they're warm enough to fry some eggs. "That's a dick move, first of all, and I'm not like that. I don't want to break up with you at all."
He stares at Stiles, who shrinks under his gaze.
"I was trying to be funny," Derek admits, after a long pause. Stiles blinks in shock. "You're always the funny one, but... I just wanted to make you laugh."
Stiles can feel his heart do a happy dance in his chest.
"You always make me laugh," Stiles tells him, and Derek shakes his head.
"I didn't mean to make you feel bad, I'm sorry."
"It's okay, it was nice to hear I'm not bad at blowjobs, so I guess it was a win-win," Stiles shrugs, unconcerned. Derek smirks, and his eyes darken. Stiles feels a flash of lust surge through his belly.
"You're more than good, Stiles," he says quietly, and Stiles feels like he's on his way up a roller coaster, the anticipation making his head dizzy. "But you could always practice more, if you'd like. On toys," he continues, his voice dropping as he puts a knee up on Stiles' bed. "I bet I could give you some pointers." Stiles can feel the bed dip under Derek's weight, and his breath catches in his throat when Derek keeps moving, crawling up Stiles' body, pressing against his own. "Or," Derek's voice is nothing more than a whisper now, and Stiles has to hold back a whimper. "You could always practice on the real thing. I wouldn't mind."
Stiles inhales sharply when Derek settles over him, and the sheer bulk of Derek feels so good against his body, that he can't help but thrust up against it. The friction makes him choke, and Derek looks every inch the predator he is. Derek's acting really casual, and his fingers are tracing feather-light touches on Stiles' collarbone.
It takes Stiles a few tries to get his voice working, and when he does, it's with his hands sliding down Derek's back, and settling on Derek's hips. "Practice makes perfect, after all," he says, and Derek grins.
(307): Mind if I sleep with your cousin? If I can... thanks. If no, sorry its gonna happen.
It all starts when Stiles agrees to tutor Malia. She was in his Math class, and she was snarky, well-versed in that specific kind of dry humor the Hale's were renowned for, but she just could not grasp the idea of logarithms.
Not that Stiles was that great at them, but at least he knew what they were. Kind of.
Honestly, he would be one hundred percent into her if she had a penis.
Despite that minor setback, the tutoring sessions led to her getting a B- in the final (Stiles had cringed, and opened his mouth to apologize, when she tackled him into a hug, squeaking in excitement that she hadn't failed), which led to her offering him an invite to one of the ridiculous Hale parties.
"We're celebrating Laura and Derek coming home for the summer," she informed him. Stiles hummed noncommittally, before glancing at where she had her hand pushed against his chest, shoving him against the lockers. "Oh," she said, quite unnecessarily. "Sorry." Her hand dropped back down to her side, but she didn't look sorry at all.
There was an awkward pause, before she beamed at him, and patted his chest. "Hale House, 7pm, Friday," she reminded, before swiveling on her heel and disappearing. Stiles watched her go with a vaguely awed expression on his face.
Damn her lack of male genitalia.
+++
Holy shit.
"Bless your lack of male genitalia," Stiles yells in what he hopes is Malia's ear, and not some unsuspecting passerby. He's still staring at her hotter than the sun cousin, so he makes a horrified noise and quickly looks away to pretend he wasn't staring when the guy in question, Derek, jerks his head up to meet his eyes.
There was no way he heard that, right?
"What?" Malia asks, and the only reason he hears her above the noise and music is because she's literally shoved her face next to his.
He nods, and even if that isn't an answer, Malia lets it go. She meets Derek's gaze across the room and gasps as if she's figured something very important out.
"Oh," she says gleefully.
Stiles is very confused.
She looks around for a bit, before she suddenly says, "Laura, Cora!"
They appear almost instantly, and wow, Stiles needs to learn that trick to find Scott when he's disappeared with Allison.
"Meet Stiles," she pushes Stiles towards them, does something crazy with her eyebrows and grins at him. "Don't worry," she says. "They won't bite."
"Derek might though," Laura winks at him, and they dissolve into laughter. Stiles doesn't feel any better.
"I don't mind biting?" he tells them seriously, because while he's not smashed, he's not exactly sober, and his brain-to-mouth filter is faulty on a good day. "I mean..." he trails off, because they're laughing harder, and if he peeks behind the curtain of Cora's hair, he can kind of see Derek, and he's not sure from all the way back here, but it looks like he's staring angrily at them.
Shit.
He doesn't think Stiles is hitting on his sisters, does he?
"I'm not hitting on any of you!" he shrieks, half accidentally, but also half on purpose, because Derek looks like he can kill a man with his bare hands. It's hot, but disturbing.
Mostly hot though.
"Thank god," Cora rolls her eyes, and when he puffs up, offended, adds, "That's not what I meant," she says firmly, and he deflates.
Laura eyes him for a long moment, before nodding once. "He's cute, I like him."
"Me too," Cora agrees, and Stiles is nodding along before he remembers that they're talking about him.
"Wait, what?"
But Cora and Laura are already walking away, waving one hand behind them. Stiles waves back, a little dejectedly, and he turns back to Malia. "I like that they liked me," he admits, and she bumps their shoulders together.
"Of course they were going to like you," she says simply, and he smiles at her. "Now I'm going to introduce you to Derek," she tells him. She laughs when his smile disappears almost immediately. "Don't worry, I'm sure he'll like you too."
She's just finished the sentence when Derek appears, looming like the angel of death, or something equally dramatic.
"Derek, hi," Malia beams innocently, completely oblivious to the way he's burning holes through her head with his stare. "This is Stiles."
He just keeps glaring, and Stiles now feels super awkward. Or, more accurately, more awkward than earlier.
He settles for waving in Derek's face instead. "Hello," he says sagely. It feels right.
Derek blinks, redirecting his gaze onto Stiles, and Malia takes the chance to disappear, completely abandoning Stiles and his whimper.
"It's too loud in here," Derek decides, before he turns on his heel and starts walking, leaving Stiles there. He's taken about four steps before he turns back around and frowns, seeing Stiles unmoving. "Come."
"I... okay," he says, because even if Derek is a virtual stranger, he is a hot virtual stranger, and Stiles has pepper spray in his back pocket, so he's probably not going to die. Probably.
That was not a reassuring thought.
But it doesn't deter him from following Derek straight to his, oh. They're in Derek's bedroom. Stiles palms start to sweat.
"Sit," Derek commands, and honestly, Stiles is 2.5 seconds away from just plonking down onto the floor when he spots one of those swivel-y cushioned computer chairs not too far away. His eyes light up, and he hurries over to it, before sitting his butt down and spinning around a few times, grinning to himself.
He remembers he has company (and that he's not actually in his own room) pretty abruptly, and Derek's just watching him, the hints of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"You having fun?" Derek asks, not unkindly, and Stiles nods.
"I like swivel chairs," he tells him. "And not just when I'm drunk," he clarifies. "Not that I'm drunk, just tipsy," he reassures Derek.
Derek studies him, before turning around and bending down (holy god that ass though. Stiles tries very hard to hold in his whimper.) to retrieve a bottle of water. "Drink," he orders, shoving the bottle at Stiles. Stiles takes it and drinks a few gulps gratefully. He's not actually sure he won't blurt out something embarrassing concerning Derek's amazing body, so he's not willing to take the risk.
Derek's just watching him silently, his hands fidgeting at his sides, and when Stiles has panicked-drank half of the bottle and can take the silence no longer, he sets it down onto the desk and smiles tentatively up at Derek.
"It's nice that you're back," he says weakly. Derek raises his eyebrows.
"You think?"
Stiles nods. "I remember you," he starts, looking away when he feels the start of a blush heat his cheeks. "Back when, when you were in school." His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, and saying the words is like trudging through sticky-sweet molasses. He takes a sip of his water, avoiding Derek's gaze.
"I had already graduated when you became a freshman," Derek says, after a very long pause.
Stiles flushes. "Yeah, I know. But there was about a month. I was in the seventh grade, and the middle school ceiling caved in. So we were placed in the high school for a bit," Stiles can see Derek's expression light up in his periphery as Derek remembers. "You were in your senior year."
"Yeah, that was a crazy month, having Cora and Laura in the same place," he shakes his head with a rueful laugh, and Stiles is so surprised he lets out a little snort of his own.
"You helped me with homework once," Stiles continues, feeling a little bit braver. Derek glances at him, surprised. "It was, um, History, and I was in the library doing some research and - "
"You remember that?" Derek cuts in. Stiles nods, and the corner of Derek's mouth lifts in a half-smile.
Stiles nods. "You left before I could say thank you. It doesn't matter now, but I really appreciated the help."
Derek waves the comment away. "I was happy to help," he says, and Stiles feels his stomach flutter when he notices Derek fiddling with the cuffs of his Henley, his cheeks pink.
This is bad. This is very, very bad.
+++
"Hypothetically," Stiles begins, and Malia raises an eyebrow at him.
"Should Cora be here for this?" she interrupts, and Stiles sputters indignantly. "What?" she shrugs. "He's her brother."
"I wasn't going to talk about Derek!" he lies. She gives him a look, and he melts back in his seat, ripping his bread roll into little shreds.
"Whatever," he mumbles petulantly, and she throws her head back and laughs.
"Hypothetically?" she prompts, knocking their shoulders together.
"It's not a hypothetical situation," he admits.
She grins at him. "Thank god, they remind me of math," she shudders. "So, what's up?"
Stiles decides to just blurt it out. If anything, the shock factor will give him enough time to run away before she punches him.
"Mind if I sleep with your cousin? If I can, thanks. If not, sorry, it's probably going to happen anyway."
She looks completely unfazed. "Sure."
"What?" he blinks. She shrugs. "I can?"
"Well," she starts, and Stiles has a feeling he's going to regret asking. "Laura and Cora made bets on how long it would take for Derek to get over the fact that he had a massive crush on middle-school you and take advantage of the fact that you're all grown up now. Legal and everything," she lets her eyes trail down Stiles' body appraisingly, and if he wasn't so overwhelmed with information, he'd be cringing underneath her gaze. "I said you'd get your head out of your ass this weekend, so yes, go for it. You'd be winning me sixty bucks."
"Sixty dollars!" he gasped, almost in disbelief. Malia shrugs, disinterested again. "Can I have a cut?" he tries, and cowers at the look she gives him. "I was just asking!"
"I'll give you twenty," she sighs, and rolls her eyes when he punches the air with his fist in victory.
+++
Stiles uses the money to take Derek out for milkshakes, and graciously pretends not to notice the way Derek dribbles chocolate banana all over his shirt when he looks up and sees Stiles sucking fervently on his straw.
Derek blushes, trying his damnedest not to think about the night before, and Stiles waggles his eyebrows.
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Because I was tagged by the fabulous nuggetsobrien
The Rules: You can tell a lot about a person from the type of music they listen to. Hit shuffle on your iPhone, iPod, or other method of listening to music and then write the first 10 songs that come up. Tag up to ten people you want to do the tag.
1. Want - The Cure
2. Only Wanna Be With You - Hootie and the Blowfish
3. Silent All These Years - Tori Amos
4. I Stand - Idina Menzel
5. Older Than You - Eskimo Joe
6. L'enfer - Kyo
7. If I Had It All - Dave Matthews Band
8. Winter Light - Tim Finn
9. Feeling Good - Muse
10. We Deal in Dreams - Live
regardless of the costuming choices, I firmly believe that there have been other cues to the viewers that encourage this sort of shaming of Rachel. Even if they'd had her in black, grey, and navy blue power suits, people would still find fault and blame her because the camera's eye is a misogynistic one and that's the only eye we can see through. The perspective is biased against her and shines an unfavorable light on her, clothing notwithstanding.
Yeah, the clothes definitely don't help. I blame all those lingering camera shots tbh. They're the worst.
Suits is definitely skewed to the male gaze, and as a paralegal at a law firm in a fairly upscale and rich area of Southern California, I can honestly say I've never seen ANYONE dress the way the Suits ladies do in their office. I blame the writers/producers/directors for putting the ladies in clothing that is inappropriate for the environment.
Yeah. I mean, obviously it's a TV show so it's not all strictly based in reality, but the combination of her wearing that outfit on that day was a particularly bad one. I like a lot of the ladies clothes, but sometimes they really just are not appropriate.
