#professor!derek

Chapter 1.

The Wrong Vibes

Professor Derek Hale was in the middle of explaining the Ottoman rule in Palestine from 1840 to 1918, deep into the topic of the Second Wave of Jewish Immigration to Palestine. It was one of his favorite topics, so he allowed himself a little more time to explain certain events. Given the significance of the time period, it was important his students understood what exactly had happened and why.

His class was almost always full, which he was thankful for. However, he was aware that some students were there for all the wrong reasons. He had joined the faculty almost three years ago now, but, according to Isaac, he had become somewhat of a sensation among the students. Derek liked to believe it was due to his very thought-out explanations and his willingness to always answer any question a student may pose, but he isn’t blind. Even if he’d rather lie to himself sometimes.

To his credit though, he seemingly developed a sixth sense about two and a half years ago. He’s very good at knowing when someone walks in late, even with his back to the door, and at knowing when someone is being disruptive, even in a lecture hall of over 100 students. And right now, someone walked in almost halfway through his lecture, and was sitting somewhere in the back whispering to someone else. Derek stopped talking for a second, letting his chalk remain on the chalkboard without writing anything down. He stayed like that, not saying a single word, until the only sound he could hear was the low buzzing of the projector. It took less than a minute, and then he continued on like nothing had happened for the last thirty minutes of class.

Once class ended, he turned around to dismiss his students, while trying to dust off the chalk from his hands. It had taken a while, almost his entire first semester teaching, but now all his classes knew better than to leave without being dismissed. All 107 eyes were still set on him, and everyone was still sitting down. Which made it easy for him to find the person who had disrupted his teaching today.

He was slightly taken aback, but not completely surprised, when he saw a smiling Stiles Stilinski sitting in the back row. Derek scoffed slightly, trying not to laugh in front of his entire class.

“Class is dismissed, thank you for your time,” he said, loud enough for every row to be able to hear him. The class erupted into chaos, everyone trying to rush out while cramming everything on their desks inside their bags.

Derek turned toward his desk, back to the class once again, carefully putting everything into his briefcase in the exact order he liked it. If he took a little longer than usual to give Stiles time to navigate the wave of people while going against the flow, no one other than himself had to know that. He zipped his briefcase at the same time as he felt someone stand right next to him. It was always easy to know when Stiles was near, the energy around him seemed to vibrate in a way that only someone with Stiles’ levels of anxiety might be able to emanate without physically shaking.

“You interrupted my class today,” he said in lieu of a greeting, turning to the younger man.

“I got here as soon as I could, the Biology and History departments aren’t exactly next to each other. And we scientists aren’t exactly known for our physical prowess either. I ran like a madman which, you know, means I was going barely above average speed.” Stiles smiled widely, sitting down on the desk.

Derek couldn’t help but snort at that. “Stiles, I’ve seen you run. Sure you run weird, limbs going everywhere, and most of the time you end up on the floor, but you’re actually fast.”

“Not fast enough for you not to bite my head off, apparently.”

“Why are you here, Stiles?” he asked at last, motioning for Stiles to follow him to his office. The lecture hall will be needed in about 15 minutes, and Derek is a firm believer in better safe than sorry.

“Oh, so, you know…”

“So, a favor. Start talking, Stiles.”

“There’s a faculty dinner tonight.”

Derek was slightly more confused now than he usually was in all his interactions with Stiles. “I…Yeah, I know.”

“And, you know, I am faculty.”

Derek rolled his eyes at that. “It was one time, Stiles. One time.”

“You almost threw me out of the break room! I had had a total of 0 coffees that day, and we were doing bacterial growth kinetics. I was sleep deprived!”

“Okay. We’ve had this discussion before, Stiles. You looked way too young to be faculty, you had a Batman shirt on and the biggest under-eye bags I have ever seen, and when I walked in you greeted me with ‘hey, dude’. Was I really supposed to think you were a college professor?” Derek raised a single eyebrow at Stiles, daring him to fight him on this. Once the man had opened and closed his mouth three times without emitting a single sound, Derek turned around to open the door to the office he shares with Isaac, stepping aside to let Stiles walk in first. Isaac was probably still in the middle of his class, so they had a bit of time. Isaac usually arrived at the office after class with one or two students trailing behind him, asking a million questions.

“Look, whatever. You were wrong, dude, “

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek admonished, before Stiles could really get started in on his tirade.

“You were wrong, Professor Hale. I’m a genetics professor, and I’m old enough to be a genetics professor. Actually, I’m old enough to have a PhD in something you still think is a weird STD.” Stiles bypassed Derek’s chair and both the visitor chairs to sit on the desk, his pointer finger flying wildly while he accused Derek.

“I still think transposing cripsy cas sounds like an STD,” Derek said, grabbing Stiles’ finger and pointing it away from his face, while he made his way to one of the guest chairs, so he could sit down facing Stiles. He had long ago given up on trying to force Stiles to sit on something made for sitting.

“I know you know that isn’t what it’s called! And transposons and CRISPR-Cas technology are absolutely going to save your life one day, mister. But now that we’ve established that we’re both professors and, therefore, members of the faculty, I wanted to know if you’d be my ride to the faculty meeting. I’m staying late to work on an experiment tonight, and my car is still in the shop. Lydia said she’d pick me up, but the school is way farther away from her than the restaurant,” Stiles explained, turning big hopeful eyes at Derek.

Derek tried hard not to let his feelings show. Lydia Martin was their star math professor, just back from a year-long absence, where she was working on a new math program with the university, in collaboration with MIT, while also winning two world-wide contests. The woman was as smart as she was elegant, and she seemed to be really close to Stiles.

When Derek first joined the faculty, Lydia Martin was all the students and professors seemed to talk about. About a year later, she left to work on the new joint program, which the university was more than happy about. During that year, Stiles arrived, mid-semester, after Professor Greenberg had to take sick leave from some kind of lacrosse accident. Somehow, during that first semester, Stiles and Derek had become really good friends. Derek had even thought that maybe they could be something more. But then Lydia Martin had come back, and now Derek had to share Stiles’ times with Lydia.

He smiled tightly. “Yes, I will drive you to the dinner, Stiles. I’m working late today, anyway,” he offered, not meeting Stiles’ eyes.

“I know, man! You have to grade papers today; I’ve been hearing your students complain for like a week. That’s why I knew you wouldn’t make me walk! Or get a taxi. I get very dizzy when I ride in the back,” Stiles talked animatedly. Soon, the topic changed and both men were talking about nothing and everything, in easy conversation the way they had always done. Exactly what had made Derek once believe they could be something more. But now was not the time for that.

“It is not a generality, Aimée, like I said you need to apply it case by case. There are no laws when it comes to psychology.” Isaac’s voice carried from the corridor, as he made his way to his shared office. Like Derek predicted, Isaac came inside followed by two girls and a boy. Based on Isaac’s face, they seemed to be very curious about a topic Isaac loved talking about. Derek did what he did best and ignored everything happening on the other half of the office and focused on Stiles. The man talked with his whole body, so it was easy to dedicate all of his attention to him.

After a few minutes or maybe a half hour, Derek wasn’t really sure anymore, Isaac made his way to the other visitor’s chair to Derek’s left. It had to be before 3 pm, because Stiles had class at 3.

“What are we talking about?” Isaac asked animatedly, while taking out a few tests to grade.

“Aliens!” Stiles answered happily, grinning at the Psychology professor. To Isaac’s credit, he didn’t even blink.

“Do we believe or do we not?” he asked without looking away from the test he was currently grading.

“We, as smart people, do. Derek, as a general hater of the universe, does not.”

“I… you know what? Yes, that, Isaac.” Derek gave up trying to explain to Stiles he believed in aliens, he just didn’t believe in short, green, angry people. Or gray probe-obsessed things.

Isaac nodded once. “You know, I was under the impression that professors were mature and professional. You two prove to me every single day that that isn’t the case.”

“I only signed up for being hot and smart, scarf boy,” challenged Stiles, crossing both legs under him, now entirely on top of the desk. How that was comfortable, Derek would never understand. “Is that why you wear the scarves every day? For professionalism?”

“No, Stiles, same as you. For the hot factor.”

Derek just sighed. He had known Isaac for almost 12 years now—they were both on the basketball team in elementary school, though Isaac was a year below him. They had been inseparable ever since and had somehow ended up teaching at the same university, reuniting after having gone to different colleges. And while he was glad for the chance to spend more time with his best friend, he sometimes felt like there was a much bigger age difference between the two of them than there actually was. Like whenever he was speaking to Stiles.

“Oh, don’t worry, you are the hottest girl at this university,” assured Stiles, taking one of the tests Isaac had finished grading. “And also the meanest girl. Half points for this half-a-page essay?”

“It doesn’t say what it’s supposed to say, no matter how long it is.”

“I don’t understand how you can be this big of an asshole and still be so loved.”

“It’s the scarf,” Derek quipped, making Stiles bark a laugh. Isaac only shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe it’s the hot girl part. We will never know.”

“I think it’s the whole hot girl/mean girl combination. Makes you irresistible,” joked Stiles, winking at Isaac.

The three of them were laughing openly when someone knocked on the door. Derek stood up to answer, only to find Lydia Martin standing there, in a beautiful baby blue tartan skirt suit. Sobering up immediately, Derek smiled tightly.

“Doctor Martin, how can we help you?” He moved aside to let her come in. Lydia had never come to his office before, but he guessed it had more to do with Stiles currently being there than anything.

As if to prove his point, Stiles immediately jumped off the desk and stood up straight. “My queen. To what do I owe the pleasure? I thought you had lunch off campus today with Erica?” he asked confused, though he relaxed his posture. He was back to half-sitting on the desk.

“Hello, Professor Hale, Professor Lahey,” she greeted them cordially, giving them a small smile, and completely ignoring Stiles. “You can just call me Lydia, both of you, no need for so much formality,” she added with another smile. Then she turned to Stiles, the warmth she previously had when speaking to the other two professors suddenly gone. “And no, Stiles, we do,” she corrected, crossing her arms over her chest and giving Stiles a meaningful look. She looked like a predator.

Derek expected Stiles to recoil at that. Even he felt the need slightly, but he found that the younger man was anything but intimidated by her.

“What? No, she specifically said girls’ night, and I have that experiment in class in like an hour. I cannot do lunch, Lyds,” he defended immediately, pointing widely at his wrist watch. Derek noticed that it was a digital Star Wars Casio watch and tried not to laugh. Although he was pretty sure those were collectible, it looked much too old-fashioned to just be from Stiles’ childhood.

“That still gives you an hour, move your ass or we’re leaving without you.” With a small nod at both Isaac and Derek, she turned around to leave. “Have a good day, professors.”

“Derek.” Derek hadn’t even realized he had spoken out loud until he felt all eyes on him. “If you’re just Lydia, then I’m Derek. Like you said, no need to be so formal. I don’t actually like being called professor by my colleagues,” he explained quickly, fighting hard not to blush. He might have pulled it off because while Isaac was looking at him weirdly, he wasn’t outright laughing at him.

“Isaac,” his best friend offered immediately after. “And it’s very nice to have you back, Lydia. The Math department just wasn’t the same without you. I really missed seeing students cry right after my Psychology of Cults class.”

Lydia smiled widely at him—the first time Derek had ever seen her smile like that. She was absolutely gorgeous; no wonder Stiles was always around her. “Me? Isaac, I have had your students come crying to me, begging to be allowed late entry to one of my classes.”

“I don’t know whose idea it was to keep your introductory math class right next to mine, but I love it,” he answered honestly. Derek could see he was still looking at him from the corner of his eye, but he ignored him, keeping his attention on Lydia Martin.

Stiles marched over to Lydia and offered his arm to her, which she took gratefully. Derek saw another type of smile he hadn’t seen on her. While not as wide as the one she shot at Isaac, the smile was warm and completely sincere. “I knew you would come around, Stiles,” she said, almost too low for Derek to catch.

“I have no clue what the two of you have planned, or why you want me there, but we have 50 minutes. I hope you can walk fast in those death traps you have on,” he mentioned, signaling toward Lydia’s stilettos.

“Stiles, I can walk better in these shoes than you can barefoot. If you trip on your own feet and make me fall, I will make sure you wake up bald. And your hair is one of those things that are actually working for you.”

“I used to shave my head in high school.”

“I remember.”

“You said I looked okay!”

“That I did.”

Derek could still hear them bickering until they were too far down the hallway for him to make out what they were saying. Isaac and he remained silent for about 3 minutes, before his best friend decided it was time to grill him.

“Why do you always bring him here after class? Is this some weird attempt to make him fall in love with you? Normal people just ask other people out, you know. Your office—actually, your shared office—isn’t exactly romantic.” Isaac spoke way faster than he normally did, while closing the door to their office and going back to sit on Derek’s visitor’s chair.

“I love teaching right next to you?” Derek shot back, unable to get over that little comment.

“That is not what I said, but unlike you I do speak to other professors on the regular, and it’s nice having Lydia around. The man that was filling her position while she was away nearly as fun, and the students didn’t seem to want to cry every time. It was as if you were replaced by Professor Harris. No one likes taking history with that guy, he’s weird.” Isaac was speaking slower now, and Derek realized he was sidestepping what he wanted to say.

“Out with it, Lahey.”

“You’re jealous of Lydia Martin. But I don’t think she’s dating Stiles. Sure, they seem close, but I don’t think they’re dating. I don’t get those vibes.”

“Vibes?” Derek asked incredulously.

“Yes, vibes, Derek. Like those very strong vibes I get from you because you really want to smooch Stiles within an inch of his life. Lydia and Stiles don’t have any perceivable sexual tension between them.”

Derek nodded, thinking about the interactions he had seen between the two adults, before the full meaning of what Isaac had just said dawned on him.

“Wait, no, I don’t…”

“It’s too late, bro. You gave yourself away,” Isaac interrupted, with a satisfied smile. He looked like a proud puppy.

Derek sighed. “Look, Stiles is not interested. And I am not interested in dating. So, it’s all for the best.”

“Derek, Stiles is interested. Why else would he follow your weird mating rituals and come to your office almost every day, or join your weird coffee run every morning at 6:30 am? I think you keep denying yourself the right to be happy, man. And I don’t know why, because while he is the weirdest person at this university, and that’s counting the students, he makes you smile and enjoy yourself in a way I haven’t really seen you do before.” Isaac spoke softly, but every word still felt much too heavy for Derek to really digest.

“He was here because he needed a ride to the faculty dinner, nothing more Isaac.”

“Yeah, but you do know he is friends with the entire Humanities faculty, right? Not just you. I think he’s roommates with Kira Yukimura, from English Literature and Asian Studies. But I’ve also seen him around with Vernon Boyd from Archeology, and Malia Tate from Dramatic Arts. I think they’re all like friends from before they started teaching here. He could ask any of them for a ride, but he made his way here—and to be clear, we are not the closest building to the labs—to ask you for a ride to dinner.”

Derek stared slightly open mouthed at Isaac. “How do you even know all that?”

“Like I said, I hang with the rest of the professors. You should know that too, really, since they’re mostly from your college.”

And Derek knew all of those professors, had shared a conversation with them here and there. But he didn’t know they were friends with Stiles.

“I have to go, I have class. But think about it. I’ll see you for a late lunch after your Shakespeare class?” Isaac asked, while making his way to his desk to pack his already marked exams in his bag, grabbing a few other things from his desk as well. Derek only nodded, before being left alone with his thoughts.