Archive of Our Own

"Derek! Still waiting on those Green Machines!" Laura called over her shoulder. Derek wanted to punch her, he really did. But he wouldn't. Not in front of so many witnesses.

The shop had been busy pretty much all day long, but an hour ago they'd hit the dinner rush and they hadn't stopped grilling since. Derek was beginning to feel overwhelmed but he took a nice, deep breath and centered himself.

He blocked out the business happening at the counter and ignored his sister's constant reminders that they were seriously behind on orders. He focused, shutting his brain down and letting his hands do all the work. In less than ten minutes he had a row of new sandwiches on the grill, and the next twenty minutes after that he'd gotten to all the orders and was standing patiently by the grills waiting for the last of them to finish.

Laura leaned on his shoulder, smirking smugly at him. “Nice job bro, for a second there I thought I’d have to fire you.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get your panties in a twist Der-Bear I’m just teasing. You know mom would never let me go through with it.” She pinched his cheek and walked away before he could snap his teeth at her.

Derek had started working at his parents’ grilled cheese restaurant – yes, a restaurant that specialized in selling a variety of grilled cheese sandwiches, which apparently is, in fact, an actual thing – when he got home from college. It wasn’t exactly his first choice, but it turned out to be his only one when the real job he wanted wasn’t available for him at that particular moment in time. At least he could help his parents out while he decided what he was going to do with the rest of his life.

He’d gotten his BA in English, hoping to become an editor or something along those lines, but getting a job in the industry was like trying to get Laura out of bed before nine o’clock in the morning – nearly impossible and hazardous to one’s mental well-being.

The Beacon Hills newspaper already had writers and editors, and the staff was young so no one was retiring or dying anytime soon to change that fact. So here Derek was, working full-time for his parents, living in a run-down apartment, taking orders from his older sister. He was living the life.

The life that would probably lead to him shooting himself in the fucking head.

Derek loved family just as much as the next person, but he was around all of them literally twenty-four-seven. His older sister was bossy and obnoxious, and she wouldn’t keep her nose out of Derek’s business. His younger sister was still in high school and going through that disturbing age and stage where makeup and boys were on the same level of importance as breathing and sleeping (when she brought her first boyfriend home, it’s safe to say both Derek and his father ensured the young man wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon, nor would he be pursuing Cora any longer), and their mother was overly nurturing and worried over Derek like he was still five years old.

His father seemed to be the only one Derek could still breathe around.

“Mom’s been talking about hiring someone new on.” Laura said as she opened up the register and began to count the bills. It was nearly closing time, and she usually wanted to be out of there as soon as possible. Derek was sweeping the floors in the dining area, but when he heard her he stopped and looked up at her.

He frowned. “What?”

Laura shrugged, sighing a bit. “That’s what she said. She thinks we need an extra pair of hands around here since the store’s doing so well. I honestly don’t think she and dad expected their little boutique store to be such a raging success. People like grilled cheese. Who knew, right?” She slammed the register closed and disappeared into the back room.

“Does she have someone in mind?” Derek called, and like a mantra in his head he just repeatedly kept thinking, please don’t be Peter, please don’t be Peter. His uncle wasn’t exactly highest on his list of people he’d like to work with. Considering Peter was a cynical, self-absorbed, snarky asshole, Derek didn’t see that going over too well. Apart from their personality challenges, the two of them hadn’t parted on the best of terms either.

Laura reappeared, a bag slung over her shoulder. “She posted a notice on the community board, and I think she bought a ‘Now Hiring’ sign to put in the window, so I guess she’s hoping to do some interviews.” She grabbed her keys off the counter and twirled on her way towards the back door. “You can close up, right?” She asked but it was rhetorical, because obviously Derek didn’t have anything better he could be doing on a Friday night. “Don’t forget to turn off the grills!”

Derek closed up relatively quickly – double checking the sourdough and assorted toppings were packed away properly, mopping the floors and wiping down the tables, switching the grills and the lights off, cleaning the fryers, as well as shutting down the coffee and espresso machines. By the time everything was taken care of it was eleven o’clock and Derek was exhausted. After an eight hour shift all he wanted to do was go home and face plant into his bed, never moving again.

Unfortunately he couldn’t do that right away.

When he got home he took a quick shower to get rid of the grilled cheese and fry smell that seemed to linger in his hair and on his clothes no matter how much shampoo and shower gel he used. Then he checked his e-mail, which was full of junk mail and held no sign that the job-giving gods were graciously granting him their favour and hooking him up with a career he could actually make a life off of.

He sighed, shutting his laptop and crawling into his bed; pulling the covers up and around him until he was cocooned in the warmth and comfort of the soft material.

He just had to be patient. He had to keep reminding himself that he was only twenty four, and that the right set of circumstances would come together for him eventually. He wasn’t going to be grilling sandwiches for the rest of his life. He would find his purpose. He’d pay off his student loans and wrench his way out of his debt.

He just hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

---

A month passed by and Talia, Derek’s mother, still hadn’t hired anyone new. The sign was hanging in the window, staring them all in the face every single day, taunting them through the rushes.

The store seemed to somehow get even busier than it’d ever been before. Derek wasn’t sure if it was because it was summer now, deep in July, or if the rise in popularity was due to the post on some girl’s blog that apparently recommended the store to anyone residing in Beacon Hills and the surrounding area.

If Derek ever found out which one of his customers caused this new wave of grilled cheese addicts, Derek was going to rip their throat out. With his teeth.

The only good thing about being busy is that Derek never really had time to be bored. He was always grilling or frying, and he was happy to be behind the scenes rather than facing the hungry, overly sociable crowd that wandered into their store.

Talia had been very adamant about making the shop feel homey, so the layout was pretty open-concept; the kitchen was viewable from the lineup and the décor of the dining room was pretty quaint and relaxing. Everything was dark wood and cushy seats, and the walls were painted a dark orange colour that somehow actually didn’t look half bad.

Talia always said she wanted her customers to feel more like guests that they were inviting into their kitchen. Which is why Laura was the one who got to do all the talking while Derek remained hidden behind the grills.

One of the main reasons he went for English was because of how terrible he was at the speaking part of language. Writing he could do no problem – it’s actually the only real way he knew how to express himself. Otherwise he was all one syllable answers and mumbled words, and aggressively awkward silences. It was like his mouth wasn’t connected to his brain at all, but instead his hands were. Put a keyboard at his fingertips and he was a literary genius. Put a microphone in front of his face and he was a socially inept bumbling moron.

Laura teased him about being a shut-in, and his mother worried about him becoming a hermit. They probably weren’t too far off the mark.

“Yo! Der! You have that Hamelot ready?” Laura asked, grabbing the take out bags and getting them ready for the sandwich. Derek lifted the grill’s lid and peered inside to see that the sourdough bread was a rich, golden colour.

“Yep.” He answered shortly and slid the sandwich off the grill and onto the cutting board. Laura cut it in half, perfectly symmetrical, and slipped it into the bag. “Any other orders come in?” He asked and she shook her head.

“Nope. I think this was the last of the lunch rush. Should be relatively quiet, so you can go back to your brooding in the backroom if you want. I’ll come and get you if I need you.” Laura ruffled his hair before he could pull away out of her antagonistic reach.

He was halfway through reading Robert Jordan’s first book in the Wheel of Time series when Laura poked her head in the doorway.

“I need you on cash; I’m taking my lunch break.” She announced and vanished as quickly as she’d appeared. Derek grumbled, already feeling some anxiety about having to deal with the people instead of only having to make them their food.

He approached the counter and peered out at the people already sitting and eating their sandwiches, all seemingly unaware of his presence. He hoped it would stay that way.

It didn’t.

Almost as soon as he sat down at the chair behind the counter a group of boys walked in through the front door; the bell hanging above the doorway chiming at their entrance. Derek looked up from his hands and had to remind himself not to glare or snarl, but instead try to smile.

He was still pretty sure his smile looked forced, and that his eyes were too pinched to look anything other than irritated.

The three boys that entered took their time looking over the menu; the whole time Derek was sitting there, pen in hand ready to jot down the order. The first boy to step up to the counter was curly haired and goofily grinning at Derek, which Derek didn’t know how to react to, or whether or not his own smile was convincing enough.

It didn’t seem to really matter though, thankfully. “Hey! Can I have a Green Machine, except with tomato instead of arugula?” He asked the order like it was a question rather than a statement.

“Sure?” Derek replied, equally as unsure as the boy.

He felt his cheeks heat up a little, so he focused on writing down the order instead of dwelling on how ridiculous he sounded. When he looked back up the boy was still smiling, but a little curiously now. Derek nodded at the three of them. “Are you all together?” He asked, making as little eye contact as possible.

They all exchanged glances, shrugging and figuring it out for themselves. “Isaac and I are, but Stiles is separate.” The tanned-skinned boy with an uneven jawline answered when the other two were still bickering. The curly haired boy from before snapped to attention and began shaking his head.

“You’re not paying for me Scott! You got the bill last time, it’s my turn.” He pulled out his wallet and grabbed a twenty dollar bill from it, shoving it in Derek’s direction. Before Derek could take it and put an end to whatever the hell was going on, Scott grabbed Isaac’s hand away and thrust his own money at Derek. “Seriously babe?” Isaac rolled his eyes and poked at Scott’s side, causing the other boy to squeak in surprise and withdraw his hand.

While the two of them were arguing back and forth, the last boy, Stiles, took a step towards the counter. He was probably around the same height as Derek, if not a little shorter. He had these deep brown eyes that Derek avoided looking into at all costs. “I’m allowed to get extra cheese, right?” He asked and Derek had to physically hold himself back from face-palming.

“Obviously.” Derek replied in more or less a growl. Stiles’s eyebrow shot up and he tilted his head.

“Whoa there dude, you don’t have to be so hostile. I was just asking an innocent question.” He held up his hands like he was trying to show Derek he wasn’t a threat. “I’ll take a classic with bacon, smoked ham, arugula, Hale House sauce, and extra cheddar. Please.” He threw the please in as an afterthought.

“That’ll be ten fifty.” Derek replied gruffly. Stiles waved his hands around a little and Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Hold up. I’m not finished yet.” He paused and stroked at his chin like he was contemplating something extremely complex. Derek was growing impatient by the time the guy finally continued. “I’d also like a coke.” He paused again. “Do you only have French fries? Or are curly fries on the menu?”

Derek wasn’t even trying to smile anymore. Without a word he reached over and grabbed one of the paper menus from the stack of them lying on the counter. He held it up to Stiles’s nose. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

Stiles grabbed the menu out of Derek's hand and gave it a prolonged look-through. "Y'know, you should think about working on your people skills." He folded the menu and slipped it into his pocket. Derek didn't say anything, just kept staring and waiting for Stiles to shut up and pay the balance. While he was pulling out his wallet he looked over his shoulder. "Hey, so, you guys are hiring."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "You can read, that's good."

Without skipping a beat Stiles shot back, "Is that a requirement for working here? Because I'd like to apply. For a job. And if reading is all it takes I am considerably over qualified."

"You want a job?" Suddenly Laura appeared and was already holding her hand out in greeting. "Hey, I'm Laura Hale. Your name is...?" Stiles gave her a wide smile.

"Stiles Stilinski, pleased to meet you." He gave her hand a firm shake and did a pretty good job at ignoring the intense once-over Laura was giving him.

Derek frowned. "Stilinski? Isn't that John's last name?" The sheriff was one of the shop's regulars – Rise and Shine with extra bacon, extra cheese, and a medium sized portion of fries. Also extra ketchup on the side. Like enough ketchup to drown in.

"Yeah, that's my dad. The sheriff. Mr. Stilinski." Stiles said and gave Derek an odd look. "Does he come in here a lot?"

Derek opened his mouth to answer but Laura beat him to it. "That's confidential information and we are under strict orders not to disclose it to you at this point in time." She winked and Stiles sighed.

"I will find out one way or another, mark my words." Stiles said in a deep and threatening tone, which may have caught Derek's undivided attention. Stiles's face was dead serious for a second more before he broke out into a fit of laughter. "Seriously though, he's supposed to be eating healthy."

Laura crossed her arms. Derek knew what that meant. She was about to pick a fight for absolutely no reason other than to entertain herself.

"Our food's unhealthy, is it?" She asked in a way that made it sound accusatory and condescending all at the same time.

Derek knew that tone well enough.

Stiles leaned on the counter, getting a little too close into Derek's personal space. "Your sandwiches are grilled, which means they cook in their own grease. You offer three different bacon options, several assorted meat toppings, fries as a side dish, and yeah, you could make the healthy choice and get the Green Machine, or just add avocado to a classic melt, but only nut jobs would do that. Because its grilled cheese. It's supposed to be relatively unhealthy. Anything else and I'd be offended to eat here."

Laura was silent for a long moment, and then, "I like you." She nodded her approval. "I'll call mom and see what she's up to. Are you sticking around?" She asked and Stiles looked over to the two boys still cooing and making faces at each other.

"Yo, dudes, we staying here to eat?" Stiles asked and Scott looked away from Isaac long enough to give a quick nod, then went back to nuzzling his nose against Isaac's nose. Derek let out a gruff noise and Laura hip-checked him away from the register.

"I'll take that as a yes." She said and whipped out her phone. "Part-time or full-time?"

"Part-time would be good, I volunteer most nights down at the animal shelter with my buddy Scotty over there." He pointed his thumb over his shoulder in Scott's general direction.

"Oh! Deaton's? That's where I got my kitten Belle from." Laura jotted down some notes on her pad of paper. "Would you be okay to come in for morning to end of lunch shifts?" That's when the store was the busiest.

"Yep! As long as I'm free by five. And I can work later on weekends." That was the end of their conversation because Laura was holding her phone up to her ear now.

"Hey mom! Guess what? I've got Stiles Stilinski here saying he wants a job." There was a short pause. "Yeah, John's boy. He's good for coming in for the morning and lunch shifts." She held the phone away from her mouth. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen." He answered and she repeated it into the phone.

Laura talked for a little while longer, asking Stiles questions every now and again like if he's ever used a grill before or if he knew how to handle an unhappy customer. At the end of her phone call Laura smiled warmly at Stiles, though there was definitely an edge of mischief behind her eyes. "Congratulations Stiles. You are officially an employee of the Hale Melt."

"Seriously?" Stiles asked excitedly, leaning over the counter again.

"Seriously. We'll have to get through some paperwork but you'll sit down with my mom sometime this week and tackle that with her." Laura shrugged and Derek walked away, grumbling under his breath about how someone less fortunate would appreciate the job more and that he wasn't training Stiles even if his dad asked him to.

A few minutes later Laura called back their order and Derek got to work. He contemplated putting copious amounts of hot sauce into Stiles's sandwich but decided the lecture from Laura and his mother wouldn't be worth it.

He couldn't quite put his finger on why he didn't like Stiles. He felt unnerved as soon as he set his eyes on the kid. His energy was off somehow; different. And Derek didn't like the way the guy sassed him back. He got enough of that from Laura and Peter.

It was his mother's choice to hire him though, so Derek kept his mouth tightly shut and did his job, because that's what he woke up every morning to do. The fact that Stiles became a regularly occurring buzz in his life didn't really affect that. Just made it a little less tolerable.

On the bright side he was reinvigorated and motivated to get the hell out of there and find himself a real job.

---

Working with Stiles wasn't as terrible as Derek thought it would be – though he'd never admit it to anyone.

Stiles was good with the people; he was funny and charming and for some reason the only person that pissed off was Derek. Stiles was also pretty fast on the floor; he didn't dawdle delivering the food, and though he did chat it up with a few people, he kept moving; unlike Laura who thought that as soon as someone said hello to her that was her signal to take a short break to learn their entire life's story.

Having another person working behind the scenes was helpful. Derek could focus entirely on the grilling and Stiles was a quick study to the fryers – which Derek said was probably because Stiles was born to flip burgers and work at McDonalds. He received a lovely hand gesture followed by a mumbled, "asshole," for it, and counted that as one battle won.

Laura and Stiles got along eerily too well, and they managed to somehow co-ordinate their teasing of Derek together flawlessly. It was like they shared a brain.

Derek was not okay with this.

It was bad enough working with his sister, but now it was like there was two of her. It was obviously some sick joke the universe was playing on him – punishing him for gluing Laura’s hair to her pillow when he was six.

Whatever, it had totally been worth it.

It had only been a month since Stiles had started working there and already Derek’s mother had offered Stiles full-time hours. Derek hadn’t gotten a single call-back from any of the countless places he’d applied to. Obviously that was all Stiles’s fault.

Stiles accepted the offer for the extra hours, which meant he could take shifts with Laura, giving Derek a day off here and there, which was the only good thing about it. Derek spent more time alone with Stiles than he’d ever wanted to, and because they worked so well together Derek’s mother made sure to put them on more and more shifts, just the two of them.

Derek rebelled a little at first; he spent one weekend trying to sabotage Stiles at the shop – taking his time making the sandwiches, forcing Stiles to deal with the impatient customers – but that totally backfired. His parents gave him shit and praised Stiles, impressed with how easily he dealt with the perturbed customers.

After that Derek sort of just gave up. As soon as that happened things got surprisingly… easier.

He realized it one day when it was just him and Stiles in the shop. The lunch rush was over and the weather was terrible, which usually meant fewer customers would make the journey to their store. Stiles was sitting at the counter playing with the pad of paper, while Derek was finishing up washing the dishes.

Derek was almost positive he heard Stiles mumbling to himself (the kid honestly never shut up). He tried to catch what he was saying, but it was too low and jumbled. He moved a little closer, pretending to busy himself with rearranging the baskets and plates. After about half a minute of being curious and confused by the gibberish he was listening to, he finally clued in.

“Are you speaking another language right now?” Derek asked before he’d even thought to. Stiles’s head shot up and he turned towards Derek spastically.

“Whoa! Did you just say something? Without me having to initiate conversation?” He asked, his amazement over exaggerated. Derek rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a mute.” Derek growled and started moving away, discouraged and thinking their dialogue was over.

Stiles made a scoffing sound, which caught Derek’s attention. “Right. Only a selective mute.” He muttered, staring down at the counter, and Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles let out a huff and looked back at Derek. “To answer your question: yes. I’m trying to learn Latin.” That was surprising.

“Latin? Why Latin? Isn’t that supposed to be a dying language?” Most people wanted to learn French or Spanish, or Italian.

“Exorcising demons and stuff, y’know. Hellish incantations and summoning Satan. No big. Just some Winchester stuff. Hoping to find myself my very own Castiel. Or Crowley. Things could get pretty kinky with Crowley.” He was smirking, but he seemed a little dry.

Derek gave him a questioning look. “Seriously though. Why Latin?” He asked, and for some reason he actually wanted to hear the answer.

Stiles shrugged, looking away again as if a little embarrassed or uncomfortable. “I’ll be taking an introductory course for it when I go to college, figured I could get a head start.” Stiles picked up the pen and started scribbling on the paper. “I want to be able to read really old texts. A lot of stuff is lost in translation, so if I can learn Latin I might be able to better appreciate history. Understand it better. And… I don’t know… everyone’s always looking towards the future, stressing about getting more advanced, being ahead of everybody else. I’d rather learn from the past. There’s actually something there, y’know? Something I can take away from it. I get that the future’s full of endless possibilities and all that, but it’s important to know where it all came from first, before we can even begin to figure out where it’s headed.”

Stiles finished his speech and Derek couldn’t contemplate a single response to it. He wanted to say something – acknowledge that Stiles had the right idea, that the kid actually made a good point – but his words seemed to disappear as soon as they started to take form in his mouth. Instead of standing there with his lips parted, looking like a complete idiot, he said, “I see.” So he traded in looking like an idiot for sounding like an idiot. Wonderful.

Stiles’s hand paused in its random tracings, but started back up after the momentary hesitation. There was a long silence before Stiles looked up from the paper and towards the front door of the store. “Laura tells me you got your English degree?” Stiles asked without looking away from the door.

“Yeah,” he answered, and then added, “I wanted to be a writer.” Stiles gave him a funny look, one that Derek recognized as partially amused and more than a little curious.

“Wanted to be a writer?” Stiles asked. Derek hadn’t even realized he’d said the word in past tense. He still wants to be a writer, but he just didn’t know how he’d manage it. He knew which steps to take, which pieces to submit, what kinds of people he needed to be talking to… he just didn’t know how to get started when he was being blocked by reality at every turn. And reality was, was that he didn’t have enough connections or money to make his career happen.

“Still want to, I guess.” Derek shrugged. Just because he wanted it to happen didn’t mean it was going to, and he’d come to terms with that a long time ago.

Stiles frowned and turned in the chair to face Derek. “Well, do you write?” He asked, and though it seemed like a stupid question it probably wasn’t, so Derek answered.

“Yes.”

Stiles tilted his head. “So doesn’t that make you a writer?” He asked and Derek chuckled. Stiles’s eyes widened comically. “Did I actually just hear you laugh?” Derek rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“It was more of a snicker at your stupidity actually.” He said and Stiles dramatically grabbed at his chest, over his heart.

“You wound me.” He theatrically began sliding off the chair and sinking to the floor in a heap of heavy limbs, as if the pain was too much for his entire body to bear. Stiles was absolutely ridiculous.

So why was Derek feeling an encroaching feeling of fondness for the kid?

He cleared his throat and licked at his lips, looking down at his feet to focus himself elsewhere. “I’ve never had anything published.” He confessed and wouldn’t look back up to see Stiles’s face, how he’d reacted.

“Okay, so maybe you’re not a published author. Doesn’t mean you’re not a writer.” He didn’t sound condescending. He actually sounded… supportive. “Take me for instance; I talk. I’m a talker. I read; that makes me a reader. I take orders; I am an order-taker. See where I’m going with this?”

Derek looked up at Stiles through his eyelashes, a little unsure as to why Stiles was being so nice about it instead of teasing him or mocking him. “Yeah, I guess.”

Stiles smiled warmly. “Just like for there to be thoughts there has to be a thinker, yeah? That’s where ‘Cogito Ergo Sum’ came from – ‘I think therefore I am’. That can be applied to anything. You’re the thinker and you’re the writer. You’re creating something from yourself. Doesn’t need to be published to be validated by the universe.” Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Validated by the universe?” He chuckled again, shaking his head. “Don’t tell me you’re some sort of Existentialist.” Derek had thought about taking Philosophy in college; he’d hoped it would open his mind up to broader possibilities for his writing. He’d even applied and attended the first week of classes, but quickly realized how ridiculously out of his league the course was, so he dropped it.

Stiles smirked, his eyebrow quirking. “Well I’m no Søren Kierkegaard or anything, but,” he shrugged, biting at his lower lip, “I don’t know. I think it’s a pretty cool belief. Every individual being responsible for finding their own happiness. Not letting society or religion dictate how you live your life.”

That was where their conversation ended, because before Derek could reply the front door opened and a new group of customers – a small family of five – approached the front counter with eager smiles and excited chattering.

Derek only lingered long enough to hear the orders before returning to his station to grill them up. As he piled on the toppings he contemplated Stiles.

The kid was… surprising. Derek had him pegged for a sarcastic little shit – which he was – but clearly there was more to him than smart ass remarks and terrible pop culture references. The fact that he wasn’t one-dimensional made him interesting; and Derek liked interesting.

“Do you condone murderers and rapists then?” Derek asked as soon as Stiles got back from delivering the family’s food order. Stiles immediately stopped in his tracks and gave Derek an odd look.

“Excuse me?” He asked, not entirely sure if Derek was actually asking that question.

Derek glanced over at the family and noticed the mother frowning at him. He lowered his voice. “If all you care about is people being happy then do you think that people who murder and steal and rape aren’t morally held accountable for their actions? Because they’re happiest when their inflicting pain on others.” There were holes in this particular mindset, and Derek wanted to poke at it, just to see how Stiles would react.

Stiles grimaced. “Leave it up to you, Hale, to find the downside to something as beautiful as happiness.” He shook his head and sighed in exasperation. “Firstly, no. Obviously people who knowingly take pleasure in causing other people pain deserve to face the consequences of their actions. Secondly, if you’re using that argument to try and justify your own inability to be happy, don’t.”

Derek frowned. “What?” What exactly was that supposed to mean?

Stiles rolled his eyes and sat down in the seat behind the counter. He checked his watch and visibly the tension in his shoulders softened. “One more hour ‘til closing time.” He remarked, ignoring Derek’s question entirely and nodding to himself. He tilted his head and peered up at Derek, who was leaning against the counter with his back towards the dining area. “What do you do when you’re not here taking orders from your sister?”

Derek scoffed; the only thing worse than having a bossy older sister is when she’s literally your boss. “I’m trying to decide whether or not taking orders from my sister twenty-four seven is worth it.” Stiles nodded sympathetically. Derek cleared his throat. “When I’m not here, I don’t know… I guess I spend a lot of time at my apartment, or at my parent’s house.”

“Okay, but what do you do for fun?” Stiles asked, chuckling a little.

Derek frowned, trying to think about it. He wrote a lot, watched Doctor Who on a nightly basis to unwind after work, and he enjoyed going to the park when it was sunny and warm. He didn’t really know what he did for fun, and unless he really thought about it, doing things felt more like habit than actual conscious decisions. He didn’t know how he passed time on his days off, all he knew was that time did indeed pass, and at the end of it he wondered how it’d gone by so quickly.

“Is there really anything fun to do in Beacon Hills?” Derek asked, and Stiles snorted.

“No, not really. We have a bowling alley and a movie theater, and this grilled cheese store. That’s pretty much it. I mean, there’re some nice bars and clubs, but I only really ever go to one.” Stiles paused, and there was a short hesitance. “I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of it, but it’s called Jungle.”

Derek had heard of it. He’d also been there as well, but only once. Shortly after he’d broken it off with his college boyfriend – Nathan, a severely disturbed guy who’d struggled with his sexual identity so much he’d refused to come out to his family, and put a lot of blame on Derek (Nathan’s family was full of old school, conservative, devout Christians, and the idea that he was gay had messed him up pretty bad, but Derek liked him for the charm he possessed and Derek seemed to lack. They dated for a year before Derek finally realized he deserved someone who was comfortable with loving him, and not ashamed to do so).

He’d gone to Jungle – one of the town’s gay clubs – with an old high school friend of his, named Roger. About half an hour in Roger ditched him for some shirtless guy, and Derek was left alone at the bar. It was awkward to be in there alone; he’d seen some attractive guys, and some had even hit on him, buying him his drink, but even though Derek was much better at flirting than at anything else that required him to speak, he still felt like it wasn’t the right time for him to be out partying.

He was in his early twenties, so yes, generally the time to party was right now, but he had responsibilities that he refused to neglect.

“Yeah. I’ve heard of it.” He paused, and saw Stiles deflate a little. “It’s a nice place,” he added quickly, and Stiles smiled.

“The DJ there rocks! And my buddy Danny knows one of the bartenders, so sometimes he scores us drinks at discount price. And by us I mean Scott, Isaac, Lydia, Ethan, and I.” Stiles said.

“Lydia?” That didn’t exactly sound like a guy’s name, but Derek remembered seeing some pretty awesome transgendered people in the club too.

“Oh, right, yeah. Lydia. She doesn’t like going to clubs where straight guys are because she gets ogled a lot, because she’s actually Aphrodite in human form. And since Aiden doesn’t dance she doesn’t really see the point in going by herself to some club, so she comes with us to ours.” He explained, and Derek nodded. “Y’know, she runs a pretty popular blog, I could talk to her if you want.”

Derek frowned, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “Talk to her about what?”

Stiles pulled out his cellphone and began furiously tapping on the screen. “Your writing. She has a lot of connections, and she sometimes features articles on her site.” Derek was still confused. Stiles looked over at him, shaking his head. “I am going to text her, you are going to write something, she is going to publish it on her blog, and people will read it. You will be a published author.” Stiles had to spell it out for him.

Derek was kind of stunned. “Seriously? You’d do that?” For me?

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I just said I would, didn’t I? Now get back to work Hale, cleaning a few fryers will do good in keeping you humble before you become all famous.”

Derek rolled his eyes in turn, but as he walked back to his station he couldn’t suppress the unexpected smile that rose to his lips.

---

“So you’re the famous Derek Hale.” Derek looked up from the cash register, perplexed at the unfamiliar voice addressing him. There was a young woman standing on the other side of the counter, sizing him up with a pair of piercing eyes. “I can see why Stiles hasn’t shut up about you.” At the mention of Stiles’s name Derek snapped to attention.

“You know Stiles?” He asked, closing the register and tilting his head at her. She smiled, looking thoughtfully towards the ceiling in a sort of coy way.

On cue Stiles appeared behind Derek, a wide grin on his face. “Lydia! You came!” He slipped around the counter and pulled the girl into a tight hug. “How was the interview?” As Stiles pulled away from her, Derek could see the little shrug she gave him and the bored expression that pursed her lips.

“It was interesting, to say the least. You and him would hit it off,” She said, but it didn’t sound like much of a compliment. Stiles raised an eyebrow. “The two of you could banter about the philosophies of the universe and then completely stray off-topic about a hundred times before coming full circle.” She paused, her smile quirking into something cheeky. “Like a couple of dogs chasing their tails.”

“Dogs are adorable and lovable so I’m gonna take that as a compliment.” Stiles said, and Lydia patted him on the cheek a few times.

“Whatever you say darling.” She said, with a condescension that could rival Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s entire existence. “So Derek,” she started, turning back to him and tapping her finger thoughtfully against her chin, “Stiles tells me you’re an amazing writer.”

Derek could feel a blush crawling up his neck and heating his cheeks, and he looked down at the counter as he shook his head. “Did he now?” He asked, cautiously peering up at Stiles, who was smiling broadly at him and nodding enthusiastically. “He’s never actually seen my writing.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow at Stiles, but he was oblivious to her scrutiny. “Details,” Stiles waved his hand like he was trying to brush it off. “You’re gonna write something and Lydia’s gonna post it on her world famous blog and publishers are gonna throw themselves at your feet.”

Lydia rolled her eyes just as Derek was scoffing. The two of them shared a look, like a yeah, Stiles is ridiculous and he’s our friend, we’re in this together, kind of look. “It’s not as easy as that, despite what you might think.” Lydia said.

Derek nodded, knowing all too well the struggles of the real world and the difficulties holding most people back from accomplishing what they really love to do. An unpublished, un-marketed book doesn’t make any money; nor does a hand-drawn or painted picture, if all it does is sit in a sketch book, the artist too worried about all the variables threatening their work.

Derek wasn’t exactly insecure about his writing, but he wasn’t entirely confident either. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “Stiles didn’t tell me you were coming in today,” he started, and had to clear his throat halfway through, “If I’d known I could’ve had something for you to look at.”

Lydia smiled, her eyes trailing slowly across Derek’s face. “Oh trust me, you’ve given me quite a lot to look at already.” She winked at him and Stiles started coughing, his cheeks burning red. Derek smirked. “If you’re writing’s as good as your grilled cheese I’m sure we can come to some sort of a deal. Which reminds me,” she said, pulling out her wallet from her purse, “I’ll take one green machine, extra arugula.”

Derek nodded, writing down her order before typing it into the register. “For here?” He asked, and she took a moment to think about it. Stiles returned to his place behind the counter, slowly pushing Derek out of his way to get to the register.

“Better make it to go,” she answered, giving Stiles a curious look. Stiles’s smile was pinched in an agitated sort of way. “I need to finish writing my article before tonight so that Danny can post it in the morning.” She explained and then immediately devoted all of her attention to her phone, allowing Derek to slip away into the back and get started on her order.

Once he finished it he slipped the sandwich into a to-go bag and brought it up to the counter. Stiles and Lydia had delved into another conversation totally unrelated to anything Derek could get involved with. He slid the bag across the counter to Lydia, and she smiled her thanks at him.

“I’ll be by again at the end of this week,” she said, looking directly at Derek, “Write me something riveting.” Derek smiled but internally struggled with those instructions. What kind of thing did she want? What audience was he catering to? Did it need to be something real or was fictitious okay?

Lydia was already out the door by the time Derek had taken a breath to relax himself. Stiles was giving him an odd smile. “You look like you’re scared to death.” He paused to smirk. “Lydia tends to have that effect on people.”

Derek smiled, looking down at his feet and shrugging. “It’s not her I’m worried about.” He sighed, and before Stiles could say anything more, Derek retreated to the back of the kitchen where he stayed for the rest of his shift, ignoring the worried glances Stiles shot in his direction.

---

When Derek got home that night the first thing he did was search for Lydia’s blog. He’d asked Stiles for the site before they closed up the shop and Stiles had hastily written down the URL in messy scrawl that had Derek squinting to try and decipher. Eventually Derek managed to decode it.

He typed in thegirlwhoknewtoomuch.wp.com and the blog’s home page opened up before him. He scrolled through the various pages full of content, trying to figure out what the subject of his writing should be. There were articles about a lot of things; clothes, makeup, sports, cars, books, movies, etc..

Not everything was written by Lydia M., but most of it was. All of it was good. Some of the other content included pictures and artwork, which was all really good too. There were even some names Derek recognized; Philipp Meyers had written a short blurb, and Téa Obreht also had an article published. Both were up and coming writers who Derek appreciated.

He sat back in his office chair, feeling a little overwhelmed. He took a break from it for a while, brewing himself a cup of tea before settling down comfortably on his couch. He watched an episode of Supernatural to get himself caught up, and then went back to Lydia’s blog.

He was scrolling through one of her pages and came across an article titled, Say Cheese!, with a picture underneath of the Hale Melt sign. Derek realized then that Lydia was the reason his parent’s store had been increasingly busy over the past couple of months, and for a moment he glared at his screen.

He took a deep breath and decided it wasn’t really Lydia’s fault; she hadn’t known the little monster she’d created with her glowing review of the restaurant. He read through the article; it was smart and funny, and Lydia’s personality definitely carried through in her writing.

When he was near the end he felt his phone vibrating on the desk, but he ignored it until he got to the end. After he was finished he reached over and clicked on his phone to see who had messaged him.

Unknown Number:

Hey Derek! Got your number from your sis. It’s Stiles! How’s the writing going?

Derek blinked a couple times, and then silently cursed Laura under his breath. She was meddling. Derek hated when she meddled. Things always turned out the way she wanted them to – or manipulated them to.

With a small sigh he added Stiles’s number into his phone.

Derek:

Hey. Not so great. I have no idea what kind of article she wants from me.

Stiles:

Anything.

Derek:

… Too broad. I need to narrow it down.

Stiles:

Write about cheese. Grilled cheese! Write about grilled cheese!

Derek:

… No.

Stiles:

Why not?

Derek:

I’m not going to write about grilled cheese, Stiles.

Stiles:

Party pooper.

Derek:

What sort of stuff does she like?

Stiles:

She likes grilled cheese.

Derek:

Stiles.

Stiles:

Derek.

Derek:

If you don’t give me an actual answer I will actually rip your throat out with my teeth.

Stiles:

Is that a promise or a threat?

Derek paused, staring at his screen for a long moment before settling on what his response would be.

Derek:

Both. Now tell me, what would she want to read about?

After a minute Derek’s phone sprang to life, the ringtone signalling that there was an incoming call. Stiles’s name blinked on the screen and Derek’s heart stuttered. Texting was easier for Derek; it was a lot like writing. And, as most people already knew, talking on the phone for Derek was one of the most painful experiences he’d ever encountered. The only people who called him were his parents; even his sisters texted him mostly.

His thumb hesitated over the answer button. He breathed in deeply, steadying the anxiety that slowly started to rise in his chest and constricted his throat. It was just a phone call; no big deal. He could do this.

“H-… Hello?” He asked, still not entirely sure this wasn’t a butt dial. There was a moment of static, which suggested this was indeed a butt dial.

“Hey! So, I’ve given it some thought and I think that instead of worrying about what Lydia wants to read, you should focus more on what you want to write.” Stiles’s voice was a little bit deeper than usual, it was hard to recognize at first. “So what kinds of things do you normally write about? Do you write poetry? Do you write short stories? Do you write articles? Novels? Reviews? Angsty hate-mail to all the people who made Robin Thicke a thing?”

Derek felt overwhelmed by the onslaught of questions, so he took a deep breath before replying. “I write… things.” There was a scoffing noise on the other end of the line.

“No shit?” Stiles’s sarcasm was not lost on Derek. “What kinds of things?”

Derek hesitated, sorting his thoughts before he could answer. “I write poetry sometimes. I’m not really great at short stories… I can write essays and articles.” After four years in college earning his BA it would’ve been quite depressing had Derek not become a master in writing essays.

Stiles made a clicking noise. “Okay, cool. So we know what you can do, so that’s a good start. But what about the things you want to do?” Derek wanted to move to Italy and open up a nice little bookstore, but he didn’t see how that helped him in figuring out what to write for Lydia.

“I want to write something Lydia, and others, will enjoy.” Derek answered, and Stiles groaned in frustration. Derek could practically see the guy flailing his arms around in a dramatic performance of just how done he was with Derek.

“Alright,” Stiles said, audibly taking a deep breath, “new question. Do you have anything written that you’ll give to me to read?” Derek could feel his panic returning.

“Uhh…” He trailed off, hoping to buy himself a little time to search through all of his files on his laptop. He opened up his poetry folder and immediately closed it; his poetry was maybe a little bit too personal to share with anyone quite yet. Maybe in ten years. Or after he was dead.

He scoured the word documents, opening some up to remind himself what they were before deeming them not good enough.

Finally, after a lot of uhh’s and err’s, he came across a story he’d written almost two years ago titled, Battles of the Night. The story was based on the Italian mythology surrounding the Benandanti; a cult that was mainly active during the 16th and 17th centuries in Northern Italy.

The Benandanti were dreamers who fought against witches in visions while they slept, and though they battled to overcome evil, they were branded witches themselves and tried as heretics.

In Derek’s story he wrote about a modern day America, where a young girl named Maya has her first vision and almost dies. When she does awaken it’s only due to the wolf spirit that came to her aid during the vision, protecting her from the witch. She finds out that her ancestors were a part of the Benandanti, as was her father, who died in his sleep soon after she was born.

Maya is then visited by another in her dreams; an older man named Lobo, who claims to be one of the very first Benandanti. He tells her of a dark clan of witches; ones separate from the Wiccan. He then tells Maya that it’s her duty to fight against them on three separate nights during the year while she dreams, and that she would not be alone in her fight against the evil that was rising.

Soon after that Maya meets a girl named Accalia, and she turns out to be the wolf that saved Maya during her first dreaming experience. Accalia is a descendant of Thiess of Kaltenbrun, a werewolf who claimed he was a Hound of God rather than a beast who slaughtered innocents. Accalia is also a werewolf, though she only transformed into her true form during those nights that Maya underwent the visions.

Though Accalia and Maya are unlikely friends due to their very different natures and personalities, they become quite close. Together they struggle to defeat a witch named Hecate, but ultimately overcome their challenges and kill the witch. By the end of the story it’s clear that there are still others out there threatening the world and innocents, and the ending leaves the story open for expansion or another book.

But even after writing it Derek didn’t feel particularly inclined to do anything with it. Which is exactly what he told Stiles.

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles asked, almost yelling in Derek’s ear. “You wrote an entire story and you’re not even going to do anything with it?”

Derek chuckled, because yeah, maybe it sounded ridiculous, but still. He didn’t feel confident enough to let anyone read it, and he definitely didn’t think it was good enough to send out to a publisher. “It’s got a lot of kinks it needs worked out.”

“That sounds like an excuse if you ask me.” Stiles grumbled. “Whatever. I don’t care if its plot holes have plot holes. You’re letting me read it. Right now. Send it to me.” Derek opened his mouth to protest but Stiles was already shutting him down. “No buts! You are signing into your e-mail and you are attaching the file to the message, and you’re typing in [email protected] into the recipient box.”

“Why?” Derek didn’t see the point.

“Because,” Stiles said like it was obvious, “After I read this I’ll have a better idea about what we’re working with.”

Derek didn’t argue, mostly because he felt like he owed it to Stiles for giving him this opportunity with Lydia. “Alright, fine. It’s sent.”

“Sweet!” Derek couldn’t see the fist pump but he could hear it. “Alright, so I’m gonna read this now and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re reading it tonight?” Derek already dreaded going in to work tomorrow. Stiles was going to read it and then say something about it. Which would mean that Stiles actually read it. Derek already couldn’t handle it.

“Uhh, yeah. I’m already opening the file.” Stiles answered, and then there was silence on the other end of the line. Derek sat there, listening to the nonexistence of sound – a little amazed Stiles could go so long without saying anything. Finally Stiles chuckled. “Okay this is really great, and I’m only two paragraphs in. I’m gonna let you go so I can read this.”

Derek bit his lower lip, ignoring the fact that he still wasn’t entirely sure about Stiles reading it. “Okay. Goodnight Stiles.”

“Night Derek!” Stiles chirped happily and then the call ended.

Derek sank down low in his seat, staring blankly at his laptop for a moment before resigning himself to the bed. Hopefully he could come up with something before Lydia returned to the store. He’d sleep on it tonight though, and then worry about it in the morning.

---

“…Wait… You called him?” Laura asked, sounding amazed. Stiles stared at her, amazed by her amazement.

“Uhh… Yes?” He wasn’t sure why it was so surprising; talking on the phone was still a thing, right? It’s not like texting and tweeting and all the other forms of social media had completely taken over communication between people. Or, okay, maybe they sort of had, but whatever. Stiles was old-fashioned apparently.

“And he picked up?” Laura asked again. She looked like she just swallowed her own tongue.

Stiles sighed, getting increasingly bored by this line of questioning he didn’t understand. “Unless I was talking to myself for ten minutes, yeah.” Laura’s eyes opened even wider in shock.

“Ten minutes?” She sounded so scandalized.

Stiles groaned, “Yes. Ten minutes. Talking on the phone. Why are you looking at me like that?” Laura’s surprise had transitioned into an impressed smile.

“Derek doesn’t do talking on the phone. The only people he even answers his phone for are our parents and on rare occasions my sister or me.” Laura explained, and just as she finished they heard Derek call out from the back room that he had arrived for his shift.

“Why does he even own a phone then?” It seemed silly to him; phones were for talking on, weren’t they? That and playing Tetris. And sexting. Overall phones were probably the best invention ever; besides grilled cheese sandwiches, of course.

Laura shrugged. “My parents made him get it when he went off to college. They can be pretty paranoid. After our Uncle Peter almost died in a grease fire they’ve sort of gone overboard with the whole security thing.” She seemed to be holding something back; it felt like he wasn’t getting the entire story, but he wasn’t going to press too much.

Stiles’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Your uncle almost died?” He’d never heard of Peter, which was a little strange considering Laura was basically one of his best friends now, and they’d had conversations that covered a wide variety of subjects – Stiles had told her about some of his extended family, so he thought maybe an uncle almost burning to death warranted a mention.

She shrugged again, the corners of her lips quirking downwards. “Yeah. He’s sort of an ass though, so even though he almost died I’m not gonna pretend to like him.” Stiles smirked.

“Oh, so when he does die that’ll be reason enough to pretend to like him?” He asked and she winked at him.

“Definitely. That way I won’t be accused of murdering him.” She brushed passed Stiles, heading to the front counter to say hello to a newly arrived man with his two young daughters. Stiles withdrew into the back room where he found Derek shrugging off his coat.

Sometimes it was really hard for Stiles to focus at work – not only because of his ADHD and overactive imagination, but also because of Derek’s arms. And Derek’s face. And Derek’s ass. Derek’s everything, really; and right now Derek’s everything was slipping out of his sexy leather jacket, and staring at Stiles with a cautious, worried expression that he didn’t know how to interpret.

“Hi.” Derek said abruptly, instantly blushing and looking down at his feet. He loved seeing Derek blush, it somehow made all the sexy look really, really adorable. Which was even more distracting.

“Hey! So I read it and it was amazing,” Stiles started. Derek looked up at Stiles shyly from beneath his eyelashes. “Honestly, your writing is unbelievable. You have some major talent Derek. And I’m not just saying that because your mom’s my boss lady and one word from you could get me fired. I genuinely loved it.”

Derek smirked then, shaking his head a little like he was about to call Stiles ridiculous and roll his eyes. Which he did. “You’re ridiculous,” he rolled his eyes and supressed a smile, his lips fighting to stay in a hard line but failing. “Besides, I think my mom loves you more than she loves me.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, that’s true.” Derek rolled his eyes again and set down his bag on the table in the corner. “Anyways, if you don’t send it off to a publisher I will.” Derek looked alarmed at that thought, his eyes opening wide with concern. For a moment Stiles’s brain had to readjust itself; Derek’s eyes were like kryptonite for him. Usually they were pinned to the floor or on the grills, but when he looked at someone – really looked – there was a depth there that seemed to swallow you whole.

“You can’t. It’s not good enough.” Derek sounded stressed, which was totally not what Stiles wanted to result from this conversation. “There are too many plot holes, not enough character development…” Derek trailed off, probably listing off a million more reasons in his head.

It was Stiles’s turn to roll his eyes. “Dude. Now you’re being ridiculous.”

Derek’s jaw tightened, which meant he was about to be stubborn. Laura did that a lot too – strong jaws ran in the family.

“Promise me you aren’t going to do anything with it. Other than delete it off your computer.” Derek demanded. Stiles scoffed, shaking his head.

“Uhh… well I’ll delete it off my computer but I have it saved in my e-mail, and on my phone so…” Stiles could see how much that agitated Derek so he added, “Okay, I promise I won’t send it off to publishers without your consent. But I can’t promise I won’t re-read it a hundred times and keep it forever.”

Derek took a deep breath, looking resigned. “Fine.” He paused, and for a split second his eyes met Stiles’s. “Good.” And then he walked away, passed Stiles and into the kitchen where he got started on the orders without another word.

Stiles rejoined Laura and the two of them spent the remainder of the afternoon bickering like an old married couple about what phones were best for – Laura insisted it was the sexting, and though Stiles agreed he still maintained it was the games and wi-fi that beat out everything. It’s not like the conversation mattered in the grand scheme of things, but it was amusing and it passed the time until Stiles’s shift ended.

“Before I leave,” He said on his way to the back room to gather his things. Derek was standing by the fryer, but as soon as he heard Stiles’s voice he jerked to attention. “I think you should write an article about the Benandanti, or something. Like, something occult. Lydia’s not really into the whole Twilight/True Blood thing, but I know she’d be interested in something less mainstream. Maybe banshees or something? Benandanti or banshees, or any supernatural creature that has a name that starts with a ‘b’.”

Derek looked contemplative, tilting his head as he thought it over. “Maybe.” He said, and then he turned back around to face away from Stiles. “Thanks.” He called over his shoulder before pulling out a batch of fries. Stiles had to leave then, because seeing Derek’s arm tense as he lifted the basket was pretty much boner-inducing.

“Whoa there Stilinski,” Cora said, and for a moment Stiles thought he’d been caught staring at her brother’s ass, “You should probably watch where you’re going.” Her hands were on his shoulders, steadying him. Apparently he’d almost run over her on his way into the back room.

“Cora!” He smiled at her, giving her a quick hug before swerving around her. “I didn’t think you were working this weekend.” Cora was a couple years younger than Stiles, just in her last year of high school. She could be quiet like her brother, but at times as outgoing as her sister.

“I’m giving Laura a break; she’s worked every day this week, according to my mother.” Cora sighed, clearly exasperated. “I don’t understand why they can’t just hire someone else on.” She paused, looking at Stiles and quirking an eyebrow. “One who actually works.” She pursed her lips, full of attitude. It melted away quickly though, and she was winking at Stiles. “You know I’m just kidding. If anyone works around here, it’s you. And my sister. Which my mom doesn’t let me forget.”

Stiles chuckled, biting his tongue. “Sheesh Cora, you gotta stop focusing so much on school work and start helping out more around the store. Who cares about college when your family needs you?” Partly true, because there were some situations where that was the case. But the Hale family was doing well for themselves, and Cora was pretty much a genius. She’d go off to college and graduate with honours, and then she’d get a job working as a nuclear physicist or something equally amazing as that.

“Oh shut up and get out.” She laughed, and as he passed her on his way out the back door she smacked his ass.

“Oi! That’s sexual harassment!” He cried, covering his butt with his hands to fend off another attack if it came.

“It’s not sexual harassment if you like it!” She retorted and then disappeared into the front of the store. Stiles was just about to walk out the door when Laura appeared, snapping her fingers at Stiles.

“You can’t leave yet, I have to ask you something.” She crossed the room and he met her half way.

“What’s up?” Usually when Laura asked him for something it was either condoms or tampons; she seemed to take an absurd amount of pleasure from treating him like a woman. Probably meant she respected him.

“Two things actually. One, can you cover my shift tomorrow? I have a coffee date with Luke and I can’t cancel again, otherwise he’ll dump my ass and start dating my best friend or something.” She shrugged it off, but clearly she didn’t want that to happen.

“Two things. One, yes I’ll take your shift tomorrow. Two, you don’t have to worry about him dating me because he’s not my type.” Stiles teased and Laura punched him lightly on the arm.

“What do you mean not your type?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms tightly over her chest. It was her way of challenging him; the Hale eyebrows were always aggressive towards Stiles for some reason.

“Y’know, he’s straight, he’s vegan, and he’s a bit of a dork.” Stiles was the first to admit that he himself was a major nerd when it came to gaming, reading, and school, but Luke was an actual dweeb. It was charming, in its own sort of way, just not what Stiles really went for.

“He’s not a dork you’re just an ass.” She paused, tilting her head at him with a curiously sly glint in her eyes. “What is your type then?”

Stiles thought about it for a moment, thinking about all the past crushes he’d had, and the past boyfriends. “Brainy and beautiful.” And broody. “So, basically every guy who’s out of my league.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “Selling yourself short Stilinski.” She sighed, leaning up against the doorframe. “Anyways, I still have one more question. Before you left I heard you say something about Derek’s writing.” It didn’t sound like a question but Stiles was sure there was one implied.

“Yeah, he sent me his story.” Stiles said, and Laura didn’t say anything, just stared at him with an expression of disbelief and astonishment. “You know, The Battles of the Night one.” She remained speechless, which was a little worrisome considering Laura always had something to say. “Benandanti? Werewolves? Hecate? The dynamic duo of Accalia and Maya? Any of that ringing any bells?” He tried, but she looked even more lost.

“No.” She replied, and then looked over her shoulder suspiciously. She looked back at Stiles, closing the distance between them and lowering her voice. “Derek doesn’t let anyone read his stuff.”

Stiles had had a feeling Derek wasn’t overly open about his writing, but not letting anyone read it? That was just bizarre, especially since it was ridiculously good. It was sort of ironic how Derek had a way with words, so long as he wasn’t speaking them. Otherwise he was all gruff and grumbly.

“Does that mean he likes me?” Stiles asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Laura chuckled, shrugging.

“It means something.” She said, and then gave Stiles an odd look. “I should get back to work. Thanks for taking my shift tomorrow!” She retreated back to the front of the store, leaving Stiles feeling confused and lost. He shrugged it off and headed out.

The entire way home his mind kept finding its way back to Derek, and what Laura had said. From the moment they met, Stiles was certain Derek didn’t like him; the sneers and sabotages at work were a clear indicator of Derek’s obvious dislike. But as time went on things seemed to mellow between them, and Stiles thought they were in a good place. They might even be well on their way to becoming unlikely friends.

---

“Does this mean I get to read it?” Stiles sounded hopeful, which made Derek smile. He straightened himself out quickly though, clearing his throat and shaking his head.

“No. It just means I’m done and I have something to give Lydia when she comes by the store next.” After Stiles had talked about Derek writing something dealing with the occult that’s all Derek wanted to do. As soon as he closed up the shop and headed home he went directly to his laptop and started. It had taken him a few hours; most of it spent researching through online databases. But he’d finished. He still hadn’t looked it over, but he’d save that for tomorrow when his brain didn’t feel like it weighed a ton.

He had to blink a few times afterwards to remind himself that he had a body, and that he didn’t just live inside his head. That’s always the space he went to when he wrote, and it was sometimes hard to break out of. When Stiles had called him it was a little after eleven, and Derek was still in his post-writing haze, so he answered the phone without a second thought.

“Don’t you need an editor? Someone to look it all over to make sure it flows and makes sense? Not that I doubt you, but… honestly I’ll say anything right now to see more of your writing.” Derek chuckled, sitting back more comfortably in his desk chair.

“Alright. I’ll send you something, but not the article.” Derek admitted he was growing fond of the attention; his ego enjoyed it at least. Stiles cheered triumphantly.

“Awesome! You’re amazing!” Stiles praised, and Derek could practically feel Stiles’s smile radiating through the phone.

“It’s not nearly as long as the story I sent to you before,” Derek started, and hoped it wouldn’t disappoint Stiles. “It’s just some… well, poetry. I write poetry.”

There was silence on the other end for a painfully long moment. “You write poetry. Oh my god.” Stiles started laughing and Derek regretted everything. “That’s so…” Stiles trailed off and Derek felt a lump in his throat.

“Lame?” He finished the sentence for him, allowing his anger to seep into the word.

“Uhh no. I was gonna say it’s unexpected. Sheesh. Talk about hostile.” Stiles replied, and Derek blinked.

The main reason why Derek didn’t normally talk about his writing was because past experiences had left him feeling bitter. Nathan, his first serious boyfriend in college, never really cared about what Derek had to say or write. That relationship had mostly just been physical – which was apparently the trend for Derek.

Kate Argent had been the very first. She had been Derek’s first everything.

First love. First fuck. First fight. First heartbreak.

He met her in his first year of high school. She was four years older than Derek – which is the excuse she used to keep their relationship a secret. She couldn’t be seen holding hands with fresh meat in public, and Derek understood. Or, he said he did, but he didn’t really.

It started out innocently enough; Kate batting her eyelashes at him and teasing him about the way he blushed. She was sweet at first; flirty and playful. She had been the one to ask him if he wanted to be her boyfriend, and of course he’d said yes, because she was beautiful and sarcastic and she liked Derek.

Or so he thought.

Then she started seeing a guy named Matt, who was in her grade and best friends with Derek’s uncle. Peter was Talia’s kid brother, which meant he and Derek were only four years apart. Talia had given birth young too, getting pregnant with Derek almost as soon as she’d graduated from high school.

Kate started coming around the house more often, since Matt spent a lot of his time hanging out with Peter at the Hale residence. She’d kiss Matt shamelessly in front of Derek, even though she’d message him that night telling him she loved him, and that Matt was just a front.

Derek should’ve known better, but he was naïve – still looking at the world through the eyes of an optimist; a kid who’d never had anything bad happen to him in his entire life.

When someone told him they loved him he believed it, because why would they lie?

So he let her fuck him whenever she got bored, believing they were in love and this was just the way things had to be. It was okay for a while – not great, but okay.

And then Peter walked in on them while they were having sex and it all fell apart from there. He told Matt and Matt exploded on Kate the next day at school, publically humiliating her with a very final and messy break-up. She took it out on Derek, and then on Peter for ratting them out.

“Derek?” Stiles asked, sounding worried.

“Sorry.” Derek snapped back to the present, clicking the ‘send’ button on the e-mail and watching the message fade away as it sent to Stiles’s account. “I’m pretty tired, writing takes a lot outta me.” It was mostly just an excuse. Thinking about Kate always drained him; dwelling on all the what-ifs and regrets.

“All good man. I’ll talk to you later?” Stiles sounded unsure, like he didn’t know if Derek wanted to talk to him again.

Derek internally kicked himself, wishing he was better at this. Talking. Sharing things. “Yeah. Yes. Definitely.” He stammered, thankful Stiles couldn’t see how hard he was blushing. “Let me know what you think about the poems.”

“I will. Night Derek.” Stiles sounded a little withdrawn, but his tone was lighter than it’d been a couple seconds ago.

“G’night Stiles.” Derek replied, ending the call and tossing his phone onto his bed. He scrubbed at his face, rubbing at his eyes to try and rid himself of the heaviness his eyelids were beginning to feel. It wasn’t long before he was crawling into his bed, burrowing deep under the covers and falling soundly asleep.

---

“Good morning!” Lydia greeted Derek as soon as she walked through the shop’s door, lifting her sunglasses casually as she approached him. “Have anything interesting for me?” Derek smiled, finding it easy even though his heart was pounding painfully hard in his chest. The anticipation was killing him.

He tempered himself though, reaching behind him carefully to grab the sandwich he’d made for her when Stiles told him she was on her way to the shop. He revealed the bag and she smiled brightly. “One green machine, extra arugula. On the house.” He presented it to her and her smile turned sly. She cocked an eyebrow at him as she accepted the sandwich.

“Bribery? I like your style Derek.” She peeked inside the bag, inhaling deeply and letting out a short sigh. “Smells delicious.”

“Bribery is such a strong word,” He leaned against the counter, “I prefer to think of it as a gift of incentive.” He winked at her, knowing he was probably laying it on a little too thickly. She made a thoughtful sound, her gaze trailing along Derek’s shoulders and arms.

“I’m going to need a little more than incentive.” She purred, resting her elbows on the counter and leaning in closer to Derek. For a minute he thought she was going to kiss him, but she hovered closer for only a second before pulling away and tapping her fingers against the counter. “I’m going to need to something to read.”

“‘Ey,” Stiles suddenly appeared out of nowhere, knocking into Derek’s shoulder clumsily. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles, curious about why Stiles’s voice sounded so tight and loud. He didn’t ask though, because he had other things to deal with, like getting the articles he’d printed off that he’d left in his bag. “I’ll be right back.” Derek murmured, quickly retreating into the back room to retrieve the papers.

As he was returning he caught the tail end of whatever conversation Lydia and Stiles had been having while he was gone.

“It’s just business Stiles,” Lydia’s lips were puckered, and she looked bored with whatever Stiles was saying. “Seeing you jealous is just an extra benefit.”

Derek stood there for a moment, considering what they might be talking about. Lydia looked over then, and whatever detachment from before disappeared as her dazzling smile returned. “Are those for me?” She asked, pointing to the papers in his hands.

Stiles looked over his shoulder, and for the first time Derek saw him frowning. “Yeah,” Derek answered, crossing over and handing the articles to her. Stiles drifted away, keeping his distance and occupying himself by washing the dishes in the sink nearby. “I wrote a few things for you. I wasn’t sure what style you wanted, or what subject, so I covered my bases.”

The first article he’d written was the one Stiles had suggested; an overview of the origins of both werewolf and vampire lore, which he compared to the modern world’s view of the supernatural. It was satirical – his sister had accused him of having no sense of humour, but he had dry wit and dealing with his sister and Stiles had given him a new-found appreciation for sarcasm.

The other two articles were just fluff pieces he hoped might make up for the fact that his first one was so dark.

She glanced through them, her face unreadable. He couldn’t tell whether she liked them or not, or if she was even reading them.

After what seemed like a short scan she went back to the first article, nodding her head a little. “This one. The other two are boring.” She tossed them aside, leaving them to flutter down onto the counter depressingly. “The opening needs a bit of work,” She said, pointing at the top of the page, and then towards the bottom, “But the ending is strong. Nice flow, interesting subject matter, captivating style. All in all it’s not half bad Derek. You’ve got potential.” She slipped it into her purse, pulling out her phone and typing intently on it. “What’s your number?”

Derek’s lips quirked up in a shy half-smile. “Was all of this just some elaborate scheme to get my number? Because if it was, trust me, I’m much easier than that. All you had to do was call me pretty,” He winked at her, grabbing the pad of paper they took orders down on and started jotting down his number.

“Pretty isn’t the word I’d use,” She paused, “More strikingly rugged. There’s just something about your face that makes me want to rip your shirt off with my teeth.” She tilted her head, staring down Stiles at the corner of her eyes. “What do you think Stiles?”

Stiles had been wiping down the counters but when Lydia said his name he looked up, a frown on his face. Derek took a deep breath, already feeling his face warm up. He didn’t need to hear Stiles’s opinion – not because he didn’t want to, but because they worked together, and Stiles was Derek’s friend. He didn’t want to jeopardize any of that with a question like this. “What do I think about what?” Stiles walked over, tossing his towel down on the counter. “If you’re asking me about the new episode of Sherlock, don’t. Haven’t seen it yet, so no spoilers.” He covered his ears with his hands, pouting at Lydia.

Before Lydia could ask the question again Derek interjected, “She wanted to know what you thought about the title I went with.” Lydia raised an eyebrow at him, a sly and amused smirk playing on her lips. He could tell she caught how quickly he’d decided to change the subject; he wasn’t sure if she was going to let him get away with it.

She paused for a moment, but finally reached into her purse to hand the article to Stiles, keeping her eyes trained on Derek’s the entire time.

He internally sighed with relief.

Stiles tilted his head, the corner of his lips turning down in contemplation as he read the title. “‘Vampires Didn’t Always Sparkle’.” Stiles chuckled, shrugging a little. “Any bash against Twilight is a win in my books. But if you’re not feeling it just leave the titling up to Danny; he’s really great at summing things up.”

Lydia nodded, discreetly slipping Derek’s phone number into her purse. Stiles didn’t seem to notice; he was too enraptured by Derek’s article, which Derek had sworn he’d said Stiles couldn’t read yet. But here he was, reading it; a dorky smile on his face and amusement lighting his eyes.

“I thought I told you this was for Lydia’s eyes only.” Derek remarked but Stiles completely ignored him. Derek turned his discontented look on Lydia instead, hoping she’d take the hint and grab the paper from Stiles. She smiled, all innocence, and started an in depth examination of her cuticles.

“Dude, this is great! I mean, I know I say that about everything you’ve written, but this is really, really good.” Stiles said once he finished reading it through. “It’s like an overview of the origins of monsters,” Stiles nodded to himself, “Like a bestiary. Except funnier.” He paused, putting the paper down so he could fix Derek with a serious look. “Dude, are you sure you wrote this? Because whoever wrote this has to have a sense of humour.”

Derek narrowed his eyes, a sarcastic smile tense on his lips. “Ha ha. You’ve clearly been spending too much time with my sister.” He said drily, grabbing the article away from him and handing it back to Lydia. “Anyways, thanks for reading it over, and giving me feedback.”

Lydia smiled, “I’ll call you later and let you know when we’re posting it.” She paused, turning towards Stiles. “I’ll see you later Stiles.” And then she was walking away, leaving Derek and Stiles alone at the counter.

“So she’s gonna post it?” Stiles asked, a hopeful tone in his voice. Derek couldn’t suppress the excited smile forming on his lips. He looked down at the counter, absentmindedly picking up the cloth Stiles had thrown down and wiping at the surface, giving his shaky hands something to do.

“Yeah,” He replied, nodding his head a little. “Yeah, she liked it. So I guess we’ll see.” He reminded himself that this was just one article; posted on a blog that may or may not be nationally known or recognized. But at least it was something. It occurred to him that he should thank Stiles, so he looked up from the counter to see the other boy staring at him with an odd look on his face. “What?”

Stiles visibly snapped to attention, his eyebrows rising up in surprise. “What, what?” He countered, and Derek just shook his head.

“You were staring at me.” Derek pointed out, and a slow warmth began creeping up his neck. “Why were you staring at me?” He hoped there was nothing on his face like grease from the fryer; embarrassment was only okay when it was second-hand.

Stiles shrugged, grabbing the cloth out of Derek’s hand. Their fingers grazed, sending a new heat through Derek’s hand and cheeks. “Just appreciating seeing you smile instead of scowl.” Derek wasn’t sure what Stiles meant by that; did he like Derek’s smile? Did he like seeing Derek happy? Why? Was he just being a good friend? Or was it something more than that?

Derek rubbed at the back of his neck and had to clear his throat to ensure his voice came out steady. “Look, I just wanted to thank you. For introducing me to Lydia.” He smiled his thanks, but Stiles’s face suddenly fell a little bit.

“No problem man,” Stiles smiled politely, “Anyways, I should get back to the tables.” He turned his back on him and walked away, not once looking back over at Derek even while he did the tedious task of wiping the tables.

After the weird moment between them Derek retreated to the fryers, just in time for Laura to come off of break to tend to the arrival of more customers. The only time he saw Stiles again that night was when they said their goodbyes at closing and went their separate ways.

---

Derek’s article didn’t go up on the blog until a few days later, after Lydia’s editor, Danny, went through it and made a few changes. Derek didn’t mind – a good editor was hard to come by, especially one that did the job pro-bono. Every change he made, made sense and made the article better.

The morning after the article went up Derek’s phone practically exploded.

He wasn’t expecting it. He had next to no expectations of anything really. But apparently Lydia’s blog had viewers of all shapes and sizes and backgrounds; several of those backgrounds including publishing and talent agencies.

The first message that came through, Derek didn’t think was real. He thought it was Laura pranking him.

He was wrong.

The first thing he did was call Lydia.

“What is happening?” Derek asked, before even saying hello. Lydia chuckled, making a small humming noise.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I suspect your article has gotten a lot more attention than you thought it would.” She sounded smug. “Your article got a thousand hits in the first hour, Derek. The last time I checked, it was at ten thousand.”

Derek blinked, frowning in confusion. “That’s impossible.” Lydia chuckled again; he could practically see her rolling her eyes.

“I don’t know if I should be offended or not. It’s like you think my blog isn’t legitimate.” He stood from his desk and started pacing through his apartment. “I have over one hundred thousand subscribers.” Derek swallowed the lump in his throat.

“One hundred thousand?” He asked, his mind completely blown. Derek’s twitter account (the one he never actually used) only had ten followers, and even that seemed like a lot to him. “How?”

Lydia made a clicking noise. “Now I’m really starting to feel offended.”

Derek stuttered. “No, no! It’s just… this is… this is crazy.” Derek still couldn’t believe it. He’d known Lydia’s blog was kind of a big deal, but big didn’t fully appreciate the magnitude of one hundred thousand subscribers.

“It really is,” Lydia agreed, “But it’s also my life. One I’ve been building since high school. College is what really made this possible for me; it’s where I met Aiden and Ethan, the Carver twins.” Derek frowned; the name Carver sounded familiar. As soon as he pulled up google and typed in their names he realized why.

“The Carver boys?” Aiden and Ethan were millionaire playboys; always in the tabloids and always getting into trouble. Their father owned one of the largest marketing companies in America.

“Yeah,” She started, “Aiden and I were FWB – friends with benefits – for a while, but eventually he fell in love with me, so we’re together now. It’s not really what you do Derek, it’s who you know. Luckily for you, you know Stiles and he knows me. And you’re good at what you do. So I’d like to take this opportunity to extend my offer of agency to you.”

“Offer of what now?” He stopped pacing after he realized he was probably wearing a line of footprints into his carpet.

“Agency. I’d like to be your agent – deal with the publishers, book you for signings and interviews, that sort of thing.” She sounded so nonchalant about the whole thing, like interviews and signings were a regular occurrence. Which they weren’t.

“Signings?” He asked, his hands shaking and his palms clammy with sweat. Who would even want his signature on anything? The only thing he had published was this article; and he guessed that his college’s newspaper also sort of counted, which he wrote for occasionally back when he was still in school.

“I have big plans for you Derek Hale,” Lydia paused, “Derek Hale. Do you want to go with a pseudonym?” He opened his mouth to answer; he’d always thought pennames were pretty cool, but he also wanted to keep his family’s name. “Derek Hale is a strong name, so let’s veto the alias for now, save it for when you want to write something really erotic or disturbing.”

“Glad we got that figured out,” Derek chuckled, leaning against his kitchen counter and looking out the nearby window. The rest of the world was going along as it always did, completely unaware of his phone call and the life-altering woman on the other end of it. “What’s our next step then?”

“I need you to put together a portfolio for me. Poetry, genre writing, short stories, novels; include everything you’ve written that’s worth sharing.” He returned to his bedroom and to his desk, opening his laptop and typing in the password. “I prefer hardcopy, if you have a printer. But a USB with all the files is fine too.”

“Okay, I can do that.” He nodded to himself, and then shook his head in an attempt to remind himself that this was really happening.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t reply to any publishers or agencies until we talk, understand?” She asked, or well, ordered.

“Understood.” He agreed. “See you tomorrow.” Lydia made a pleased sound and then ended the call, leaving Derek in his own silent stupor. He uploaded all of his writing onto a USB and got dressed. He walked down to the local library and went through all his files on the computers there, printing off a few of his favourite poems, his story Battles of the Night, and then a short story he’d written in college.

While he was gathering up the last of the papers from the printer, he heard a familiar voice calling out to him. He turned to see Stiles standing in the aisle behind him, smiling warmly. “Hey! Wasn’t expecting to see you today.” Stiles greeted him as he approached, sliding up alongside Derek and the printer. He leaned over to steal a glimpse at the papers in Derek’s hands. “Whatcha’ got there?”

Derek contemplated stashing the papers in his bag before Stiles could see – a small part of his… self-consciousness, still remained – but then he realized that the instinct was silly, and that this was Stiles. If there was anyone he could trust his writing with other than Lydia and Danny, it was definitely Stiles.

“Lydia asked me to put together a portfolio for her. She said she wants to be my agent, or something.” Derek shrugged. It wasn’t really that big of a deal. Stiles’s grin widened and he playfully punched Derek’s shoulder.

“Dude! That’s awesome! I knew it’d work out for you. Lydia’s a genius; she’ll have you selling books by the hundreds.” Stiles’s optimism was refreshing; it had Derek smiling before he even realized it. “Hey! Do I get like, five percent, for being the one to discover you and all?”

Derek chuckled, shrugging. “Talk to my agent.” It felt weird to say, and even weirder to hear.

Stiles smirked. “Already forgetting the little people,” He shook his head in playful disappointment, “I should’ve known all the fame would go to your head.” Derek nudged him on the shoulder, giving in to Stiles’s goading.

“I wouldn’t call writing one article fame, but okay.” Derek poked Stiles in the side, making the other boy yelp out in surprise. Stiles’s reaction to the touch was a little melodramatic – he threw himself into a bookcase in his flailing, knocking most of the books off the shelves.

“Yeah, one article that got you over ten thousand hits – and counting, by the way.” Stiles busied himself with restacking the books, clumsily slotting them onto the shelves under the heavy gaze of the librarian that was giving them a sneer. “But yeah, no, you’re right. Totally. No big deal. And anyone who commented said nothing about how good the piece was, or how they want a portion of the blog dedicated to your writing.” Stiles’s sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed, but people leaving comments on Derek’s article was news to him.

“People commented?” Derek asked, genuinely curious. Stiles gave him a flat look.

“Have you even looked at your article since it’s been posted?” Stiles asked, his brow furrowing. Derek shrugged.

“Didn’t have time. Woke up, had breakfast, checked my messages, freaked out, called Lydia, came here, printed stuff off, and now I’m here with you.” He took a breath, filling his lungs back up after listing all of that off in one go. Stiles smirked, chuckling quietly to himself.

“You’re ridiculous Derek Hale.” Stiles was shaking his head again, which he seemed to do a lot when he was exasperated with Derek. “After we’re done here you’re going home and you’re looking at your article, and you’re gonna see what a hit it was.” Stiles paused, looking down at his feet for a split second before meeting Derek’s gaze. “I mean, obviously there’s some criticism too, but feedback’s feedback, right?”

Derek nodded; constructive criticism was helpful, so long as it was constructive and not just assholes trying to tear down his writing to make themselves feel better. He’d dealt with those kinds of people; it never ended well for either party. He liked when people told him what they didn’t like, and why they didn’t like it. That way he could try and come up with ways to compromise or better hone his skills.

“If you need someone to hold your hand through it, I’m totally available.” Stiles grinned, wiggling his fingers. Derek raised an eyebrow, swallowing hard to suppress the urge to lick his lips and focus too intently on Stiles’s hands, or on the thoughts of what those hands could do to him. “What?”

Derek reached out, snatching Stiles’s hand and holding it firmly in his own. Stiles’s fingers froze; he stared at Derek with a completely surprised expression. Derek immediately withdrew, feeling his face heating up. Obviously he’d read that wrong – no real surprise there. Social cues were often lost on him.

“I should go.” He said, turning on his heel and leaving without a second thought. He was halfway home when he realized he’d forgotten his USB stick at the library; the one that had all of his writing on it. He high-tailed it back, only hesitant long enough to make sure that Stiles was nowhere in the vicinity before making his way over to the computers. He grabbed the stick and made his final departure, hoping that would be the last he would see of Stiles for a while.

---

Derek saw Stiles the next day.

They did, after all, work together. It was hard to play the avoidance act when they had to work as a team to serve the customers. The awkwardness from the library didn’t seem to carry through to their work space, which Derek was extremely grateful for. He didn’t want their friendship to end because he was an idiot.

Halfway through their shift Derek’s mother arrived, both his father and Cora trailing behind her.

“Where’s my son?” She asked, poking her head passed Stiles and over the counter to scan the kitchen area. Derek was leaning against one of the counter tops, waiting for the sandwiches from their last order to finish grilling. “Derek! You’re here!” She cried happily, coming around the counter to join him by the grills.

He raised a curious eyebrow at her. “Where else would I be?” His mom was the one in charge of scheduling, and it’s not like Derek made a habit out of skipping work.

She clapped her hands together, smiling brightly at him. “Oh my God, you have no idea do you?” She asked, and Derek was more worried than curious now. He didn’t exactly like surprises.

“Uhh… no… what do I not know?” He asked, his guard up and ready to deflect. She rested her hands on his shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze.

“That article you wrote for Ms. Martin’s blog was featured as a highlight in our town’s morning news broadcast!” She squealed with excitement. “I’m so proud of you sweet heart!” It took Derek’s brain a very long moment to process that information.

“Why?” He asked, and suddenly his shoulder was being punched.

“Because it was good, idjit.” Cora rolled her eyes, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Who knew you had it in you?”

“I did,” Stiles raised his hand triumphantly. Derek’s father looked at Stiles, an eyebrow quirked in scrutiny. “I discovered him so I should get five percent.” Derek’s dad tilted his head, looking in between Stiles and Derek with a thoughtful gaze that Derek didn’t even want to begin to imagine the reason behind. “I’m willing to go higher.”

“I think you’re supposed to be willing to go lower, Stiles.” Derek corrected, but Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I think I know what I’m talking about, Derek.” Stiles narrowed his eyes, challenging Derek to argue with him. Under any other circumstance Derek would have, but the look his father was giving him was unsettling him.

“Before I forget,” Talia said, pulling Stiles in for a one armed hug, “We’re having family dinner on Friday and you, your father, and Ms. Martin are all invited to join us.”

“And when she says invited, she really means you have to come or she’ll hunt you down and drag you over by your ear.” Cora explained the fatalism of her mother’s dinner invitations. Talia smiled warmly, pretending like her daughter didn’t just say that.

Stiles chuckled. “Sure! That’s so sweet of you, thank you. I’ll let my dad know; I’m sure he can get a night off from the station.”

“I already got a hold of Ms. Martin, and she’ll be joining us as well.” Talia explained, and then clapped her hands together. “It’s settled then! I’ll see you and your father Friday!” She gave Stiles a quick hug before disappearing into the back room where there was a small office they sometimes used to fill out paperwork.

Derek’s dad followed shortly after, giving Stiles one last strange look before disappearing. Derek finished pulling the sandwiches off the grill and handed them to Stiles. Stiles hesitated, staring at Derek in an odd way. “What’s up?” Derek asked, hoping his mom hadn’t been too pushy about dinner.

Stiles blinked, looking down at the plates Derek had just passed him. “Uhh…” He trailed off, looking a little lost. “Which is which?” He asked, looking adorably confused.

Derek smiled, breathing out a small laugh. “This one’s the Rise and Shine and this one’s the ham with cheddar,” Derek said, pointing to each sandwich in turn. Stiles nodded, mouthing the words to himself as he rounded the counter to deliver the orders to their respective tables. Derek watched him go, shamelessly allowing himself a short glance at Stiles’s ass as he went.

“Mixing business with pleasure I see,” His father spoke quietly, making Derek jump out of his skin.

“What?” He asked, refusing to look his dad in the eyes, knowing only embarrassment, and amusement at his embarrassment, was waiting for him.

“He seems nice,” His dad was still talking, “No wonder you’ve stopped complaining about working here.”

Stiles was walking back towards them, which meant Derek didn’t have a chance to dispute what his father was implying. Instead he slipped into the break room, taking his dinner break a half an hour early to get away from his father’s prying eyes.

Lydia called halfway through; a welcome distraction.

“It’s not set in stone but I think I have a publisher whose willing to take on Battles of the Night, as long as we come up with a better title. You’re not married to it, right?” She asked, and of course he wasn’t. Titling things was probably one of the most difficult steps of writing anything; naming characters also being one of the headiest challenges.

“Nope. I defer to your better judgement when it comes to naming anything I write.” She was his agent after all, and a brilliant one at that. He was sure her or Danny wouldn’t mind helping him out.

“Good.” She stated and then moved right along. “Your poetry is good, there’s just not much we can do with it. I’ll send it off to some established magazines and see if anything comes back, but I won’t make any promises.”

“This is…” Derek interjected, feeling his head spinning a little. “This is all happening really fast.”

Lydia scoffed. “Maybe for you, but not for me. I’ve been planning this for a very long time. I’ve been going around snatching up brilliant, unattached talents and making things happen for them. It’s all a part of my plan to one day take over the world. One struggling artist at a time.” She sounded quite pleased with herself.

Derek chuckled. “Fair enough. I guess I’ll see you on Friday then?”

“See you then.” She replied, and then promptly hung up.

When Derek rejoined the rest of them, his father and mother had already left, leaving Cora, Stiles, and Derek alone in the restaurant. There were a few people still eating in the dining area but for the most part it was quiet. Stiles and Cora were standing by the front counter, pretending to occupy themselves with wiping it down when in reality they were bantering shamelessly.

Derek walked up quietly behind them, waiting until one of them finally noticed him to speak up. “Interesting. I thought cleaning meant spraying and sanitizing things, not leaning against counters and flirting.” He admitted he was a little jealous; not that it really mattered.

Cora sneered at him. “Flirting?”

Stiles chuckled, clutching his chest dramatically. “How could you insinuate such an uncouth, unchristian, vulgar thing?” Stiles asked, looking offended. Cora rolled her eyes, smacking Stiles’s shoulder on her way towards the sink. While she did the dishes Stiles continued to stand there, meeting Derek’s stare. “Are you okay with me coming over for dinner with your family on Friday?” Stiles asked suddenly, and Derek flinched at the directness of it.

“What? Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?” He asked, knowing that his behaviour towards Stiles since yesterday had been cold and rude, but he hoped Stiles understood.

Stiles shrugged. “You just seem… a little distant, since yesterday.” Stiles paused, looking down at his feet. “Since you held my hand.” Derek looked away too now, completely mortified.

“I didn’t mean to. I mean, I did mean to hold your hand, but I didn’t mean to… complicate things.” He stared down at the floor, willing it to open up and swallow him whole. Instead of instant death, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He forced himself to look up and face whatever Stiles was about to say.

Stiles looked amused. “Complicate things?” He asked, and when Derek didn’t answer he let his hand slowly slide down Derek’s arm to Derek’s hand. “It’s good to know we have things to complicate.”

Derek’s heart fluttered in his chest; Stiles was looking at him with such admiration in his eyes… and it was genuine and completely open. He edged closer, unable to fight against the pull of Stiles’s lips and the urge to reach out and claim the boy standing in front of him.

Just as Derek was leaning closer – Stiles’s eyes half-lidded and his lips parted invitingly – Derek heard someone clearing their throat. He quickly snapped to attention, breaking whatever spell had been over him. He looked to the front counter and felt his veins freeze.

Standing at the register was Kate Argent. She was watching Derek with a devious curl in her lips, one that grew when Derek took a large step away from Stiles. Her eyes trailed down Stiles’s back, sending a jolt of anger through Derek that he couldn’t tame or keep out of his expression. Stiles frowned, his cheeks flushing red. “Derek?” He asked, his voice so small Derek’s heart constricted.

He rested his hand on Stiles’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze and Stiles an apologetic smile. He slowly moved him out of Kate’s line of sight, secreting him away behind the grills and fryers. “I’ll be right back.” Derek said quietly, hoping that was enough to make Stiles stay put.

He gathered his nerve and approached the counter, locking eyes with Kate. “What are you doing here?” He asked, his lips pulling back in a snarl. Her smile didn’t waver, but her eyes narrowed.

“I’m here to see you, sweetie,” She rested both of her hands on the counter, leaning over and repelling Derek back a step or two. “I’ve missed you.” She hummed, the flirty tone making Derek’s stomach lurch.

“That’s so weird,” Derek started, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, “Because I haven’t even thought about you since you set my uncle’s face on fire.”

Kate’s smile twitched; it felt good to see her fake smile falter. She regained her composure just as easily, tilting her head and tapping her fingers against the counter. “Oh come on Derek, you know I was acquitted. They couldn’t prove anything.” She let out a breathless laugh, shrugging her shoulders. “Besides, he deserved it. You know it was his fault you and I broke up.”

Derek glared at her, completely done with her lies and manipulation. “No, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t the one to break up with me Kate, that was you.” And it was the best thing that could’ve happened to Derek. Kate was a cancer. He needed to cut her out of his life to survive; and though he was young and naïve and heartbroken when it happened, he understood now.

“Don’t be like that, Der,” She reached over, grabbing Derek’s arm before he could pull away. Her thumb stroked at his hand, trying to coax him into relaxing his stance. “We had good times, didn’t we?” Sure, there were some good times. There were always good memories with the people that you love, even if those people hurt you in the end. But that’s all they were. Memories.

“Yeah, great times.” He said, smiling tightly. “And then I remember that you used me, cheated on me, and turned me against my uncle.” He pulled away from her touch, immediately feeling better once he was beyond her reach.

Kate pouted, letting her hand fall back down to the counter. “That doesn’t sound like me at all.” Derek casted a wary glance over his shoulder, hoping Stiles had listened to him and stayed put. Stiles’s head was subtly poking around the corner, immediately bobbing away as soon as he realized Derek was looking at him. “Don’t be shy,” Kate suddenly spoke, and Derek felt his hands curl into tight fists, “I don’t bite.” She paused, grinning slyly at Derek. “Well, not unless you like it.”

After a moment Stiles walked over to them, nervously glancing in between Derek and Kate like he wasn’t sure who was intruding: him or Kate.

“Hi,” He said still unsure but extending his hand in courtesy. She smiled, tilting her head at him.

“Hi there,” She started, shaking his hand and looking over at Derek, “Do I get a name? Or do I just get a, ‘hi’?” Derek held himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Uhh,” Stiles stuttered, pulling his hand away from hers, “Stiles.”

She frowned, raising a curious eyebrow at him. “Stiles?” Stiles chuckled, a bit of a nervous edge to it.

“Yeah, it’s a nickname. My first name is just… well, trust me, it’s even more bizarre than Stiles. And it’s super embarrassing.” Stiles scratched at the back of his head, glancing down at his feet. “Enough about me though,” Stiles looked back up, a determined expression behind his eyes, “Is there anything I can get for you?”

Kate pulled a face; scrunching up her nose and shaking her head. “From this place? I don’t think so.” She looked away from Stiles, losing whatever interest she’d had in him a moment ago. Instead she focused all her attention on Derek. “So Derek, what do you say? You, me, our old spot down on the reservation?” She offered a sweet smile, one that Derek knew was a disguise to mask her real intentions.

Stiles slipped away, his cheeks and the back his neck red, no doubt as uncomfortable as Derek felt. “No.” Derek replied, watching regretfully as Stiles walked away.

“Excuse me?” Kate reached over, grabbing Derek’s hand and giving it a tight squeeze.

“I said no.” He met her hardening glare with one of his own. He tore his hand away from her iron grip. “Now get out.”

Kate’s nostrils flared like they always did when she was furious. “You’re kicking me out?” She seethed, her eyes growing wild. “You are saying no to me?” She laughed then; the sound of it grating on Derek’s last nerves. “Derek Hale, the writer. Too good for me now that you’ve made a name for yourself?”

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. “So that’s why you’re here.” Now it made sense. She didn’t miss him or still have feelings for him, or any of the other bullshit excuses she could come up with. She was here because she’d read his article or heard about it, and now she was trying to sink her claws into him. Get a piece of the action. “It’s good to see you haven’t changed.”

Kate’s eyes narrowed, her smile curling deviously. “You have.” Her eyes trailed slowly downwards, making him feel uncomfortably exposed to her scrutiny. “You grew up in all the right places.” She clicked her tongue, a twisted smile of approval on her lips. “Hopefully you did in some other places too.” She bit her lower lip, leaning over the counter and peering towards his crotch.

Suddenly Derek was furious. He wanted to grab the back of Kate’s head and bash it into the counter, repeatedly. He wanted to tear into her, expose her for whom and what she was. “Get the fuck out of my restaurant.”

Kate blinked. “Is that any way to treat the girl you lost your virginity to, Der?” She said it loudly, knowing that others in the dining area were starting to take notice of the commotion going on at the counter. Derek’s fingers dug into the counter top as he fought the urge to do something he knew he’d regret. Not for Kate’s sake, but for his own.

“If you don’t leave I’m going to call the cops.” Derek warned her. She laughed; the sound of it was harsh and bitter and Derek never wanted to hear it ever again. He didn’t want to see Kate’s face ever again.

Whether the universe or the cosmos were looking out for Derek he didn’t know, but it was at that precise moment that Stiles’s father walked through the front doors. He was in his sheriff’s uniform so he was still on duty. The threat of the sheriff would be enough to scare Kate away.

“Sheriff Stilinski!” Derek greeted, letting his anger slip away in favour of civility. The sheriff smiled at him, giving a small wave. Out of the corner of his eyes Derek could see Stiles sneaking out onto the floor, heading towards his dad with a sombre expression worrying his features. He whispered something to his father, glancing at Kate and Derek a couple of times.

Whatever Stiles was saying was making the sheriff frown, and soon he approached the counter. “Sorry to interrupt,” He started, even though the only thing he was interrupting was the cold silence that had grown between Kate and Derek, “But I believe it’s time you left, Ms. Argent.”

Kate’s eyes narrowed and she looked over her shoulder to see the sheriff standing there, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Whatever you say Sheriff,” She smiled, all politeness. Before she turned to leave she leaned in close to Derek one last time. “I made you Derek Hale, don’t you ever forget that.”

He watched her leave, refusing to look away from her until he was sure she was gone.

“Thanks.” Derek murmured, staring hard at the paper underneath his hand that he’d unknowingly started to crumple. The sheriff didn’t say anything for a long moment, forcing Derek to look up and face the grim expression clouding the older man’s eyes.

“Kate Argent,” He spoke quietly, leaning against the counter, “She’s the one who went after Peter, isn’t she?” He paused, clearly trying to dredge up old memories. Derek hadn’t realized it, but Stiles’s dad had been the sheriff at the time of the event. He’d been the first one to try and charge Kate with the arson, but she was never charged. Whether that was because her family had deep pockets or because the court didn’t have enough evidence to support the charge against her, Derek didn’t know.

“Yeah, Peter’s my uncle. It happened a long time ago… but… it still seems fresh. A lot happened that year.” Derek sighed, feeling a heavy pit forming in his stomach. He cleared his throat, trying to shake it all off. He couldn’t let Kate drag him down with her. “Anyways, thanks again for dealing with her. Is there anything I can get for you? On the house.” The sheriff smiled warmly.

“Thanks Derek, my usual would be great.” He threw a twenty down on the counter, which Derek elected to ignore.

“On the house.” Derek repeated, turning away before the sheriff could protest. By the time he got the order packaged up, Stiles was back at the front counter chatting with his dad. He handed Stiles’s dad the bag, hoping to slip away but was intercepted by Stiles.

“So, hey, my dad says he can make it on Friday.” Derek fought away the inner need to enclose himself in a shell, turning to give the sheriff a genuinely pleased smile.

“That’s great! I’m looking forward to it.” His mom loved putting dinners together – the food was always delicious and the company was always nice. Derek was used to eating alone in his apartment now, so he wasn’t lying when he said he was looking forward to spending an evening amongst family and friends. The only thing he was anxious about was trying to figure out how to get back to where he and Stiles had left things off before Kate had interrupted.

Stiles was smiling, but his eyes were downcast to the floor.

“Me too, I’ve heard your mom makes the best lasagna.” The sheriff patted his stomach and grabbed his order off the counter. “If it’s anything close to these sandwiches I’ll be in heaven.” He looked down at his watch, frowning a little when he saw the time. “I should get going,” He paused, giving Derek a worried look, “Are you sure I shouldn’t be paying you for this?”

Derek shook his head, smiling at the sheriff’s wariness. “Don’t worry about it, trust me. I’ll see you on Friday, okay?” Stiles’s father smiled, nodding his thanks.

“Alright, we’ll see you then.” He left, leaving Stiles and Derek standing behind the counter alone. Most of the customers had cleared out; only a few remained and looked to be almost finished with their meals. Derek didn’t linger there long, avoiding Stiles’s curious gaze and muttering that he’d be in the back if Stiles needed him.

At the end of the evening while Stiles was keeping himself busy with cleaning the dining area, Derek shut down everything in the kitchen and swept the floors. The restaurant was eerily silent as they went about their jobs; Derek wanted to say something – anything – that would help clear things up, but any time he tried to gather up enough nerve to even look in Stiles’s direction, the other boy seemed too lost in thought that Derek didn’t want to disturb him.

“Alright, I guess I’ll see you on Friday.” Stiles said once they were finished closing up and were in the back room gathering their belongings. Derek tilted his head at Stiles.

“You’re not working tomorrow?” He asked, and he wasn’t sure if he felt relieved by the idea that he’d be Stiles-free for a day, or if he was disappointed. Stiles shook his head in response.

“No, and I’m not working Friday either.” Derek nodded a little to himself, deciding it was probably best that he had a day to collect his thoughts.

He focused on tying up his boots, trying to interpret the silence as anything other than awkward. When he straightened himself up he came face-to-face with Stiles, their noses brushing.

Suddenly Derek’s eyes were closed and the only thing that he could feel was the way his heart pounded, and the tug and pull of Stiles’s lips against his own. His body reacted instantly; his hand curling behind Stiles’s neck while his other tangled itself in Stiles’s hair. He pulled Stiles closer, deepening the kiss until he was practically drowning in it.

His head was swimming by the time Stiles pulled away. Derek had to catch his breath, resting his forehead against Stiles’s to steady himself. He slowly opened his eyes, staring down at Stiles’s lips while his brain tried to figure out if that actually just happened. If that’s how Stiles’s lips felt and tasted.

Derek kissed Stiles once more, just to make sure it was real.

“I think I might really want our things to get complicated,” Stiles smiled, reaching up to lace his fingers through Derek’s hand, which still rested on the back of Stiles’s neck. Their closeness hadn’t lessened; Stiles’s body was still warm and pressed up against Derek’s. Derek was sure Stiles could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest.

“I want that too,” Derek replied quietly, his voice raw and gravelly. Stiles’s lips twitched into a half-smile; he bit down on his lower lip and with near black eyes stared down at Derek’s lips.

“Glad we’re on the same page.” He hummed, and Derek could feel his entire body react to the tone of Stiles’s voice. Stiles’s body seemed to react too; his hips subtly rolling against Derek’s, creating friction that had Derek hard within seconds.

“Do y’wanna come to my place?” Derek asked, and then was momentarily silenced by Stiles’s lips. Stiles grabbed Derek’s shoulders, pushing him towards the couch.

“Can’t wait,” Stiles said in between kisses, “Need you,” he trailed kissed down Derek’s jaw, sucking and nibbling as he went, “Right now.”

Derek’s neck was feeling electric; the nerves reacting to each graze of Stiles’s teeth and tongue. His brain was a haze, completely overwhelmed by his senses. He couldn’t hold a thought for longer than two seconds, but he felt everything. Every kiss and press of Stiles’s fingertips in Derek’s skin; every heart beat and ache and want for more.

He lowered himself onto the couch, pulling Stiles down over top of him. Stiles straddled Derek’s hips, grinding slowly as he delivered soft kisses to Derek’s throat. “Stiles,” Derek managed to say, his voice sounding completely wrecked. Stiles hummed, leaning up to kiss at Derek’s lips, slipping his tongue inside Derek’s mouth in a teasing, playful way.

Derek pulled away, which Stiles took as permission to start back on Derek’s neck. “Stiles.” Derek repeated, trying to get Stiles’s attention. “This is too much, too fast.” He pushed lightly at Stiles’s chest and immediately Stiles sat up, both hands on Derek’s stomach. They were both breathing hard; Stiles’s face was flushed and his eyes were heavy with a hunger.

“Sorry,” He shook his head, blinking a few times. “I’m… wow, yeah. Sorry. This is…” He trailed off, frowning. He began to lift himself off of Derek, but Derek reached out and grabbed Stiles’s hand, holding him in place.

“No, it’s not… I want this. With you. But…” Derek didn’t want to lose himself. He wouldn’t be able to handle it if Stiles was only in this for the physical stuff. Derek wanted intimacy and he cared about Stiles. Truly cared. He was afraid of getting hurt; he was afraid of losing Stiles.

Stiles and all of his optimism and honesty and support. Even his sarcasm and his annoying antagonistic nature. Derek couldn’t lose Stiles. Stiles was probably Derek’s best friend. No, he was definitely Derek’s best friend. Derek didn’t know when that happened, or how, but Stiles had wormed his way into Derek’s life and Derek’s heart.

“Is it because of that Kate woman?” Stiles asked, and of course he’d managed to put two and two together.

Derek sighed, his boner completely gone at the mention of her name. “Yeah. And it’s a long story.” Stiles nodded silently, biting at his lips while he concentrated on some thought process happening behind his eyes. He nodded once more, firmly this time, like he’d come to some decision.

He stood from Derek, crossing the room to gather his things. “Well, considering I can’t get enough of your stories, I guess we’ll just have to meet back at your place and you can tell me all about it.” Stiles smirked at the surprised expression on Derek’s face. “Unless you don’t want to, because if not I’d completely understand.”

Derek jumped to his feet, crossing to where Stiles stood and kissed him with everything he had. He pulled away breathless, licking his lips to taste every trace of Stiles that he could before they’d have to part ways. “I’ll see you there.” He answered and they both headed out the back door. Stiles hopped into his jeep while Derek locked the back of the restaurant.

All the way to his car Derek couldn’t stop smiling. He was happy – a little nervous about telling Stiles about Kate and all that had happened, but he knew Stiles wouldn’t judge, and he’d be there for Derek. And maybe, just this once, he could be happy without worrying that it would all crumble away.

---

“Wait, so she’s the reason your uncle almost died in a grease fire?” Stiles couldn’t believe a person like Kate Argent was even allowed to exist. She was a psychotic bitch on all accounts, and he hated that Derek had to go through all that bullshit. Kate was just lucky Stiles didn’t know anything about her or her perverse past when he met her because he probably wouldn’t have handled it as well as Derek had.

Derek nodded, tilting his head at Stiles in the adorable way that he did. “Did Laura tell you it was a grease fire?” He raised an eyebrow and Stiles smirked.

“Yeah, I’m surprised she didn’t pounce on the opportunity to tell me about what a raving bitch Kate is. Usually that’s the sort of thing she and I bond over.” Stiles sank deeper into Derek’s couch, staring up at the ceiling while he replayed everything over in his head. “Seriously though, that’s some really fucked up shit.” He paused, tentatively looking over at Derek to see the frown on his face. “I’m really sorry you had to go through that.”

He understood a little better now why Derek seemed so reserved in his approach to starting a physical relationship with anyone.

Derek shrugged, his gaze growing distant as he sighed quietly. “It happened, I moved passed it.” His voice sounded strained, and Stiles was sure that he wanted to end the conversation there.

“Okay well, thanks for trusting me with it.” Stiles smiled, hoping to put Derek at ease. The fact that Derek was willing to share such a personal story about an event that had broken his heart meant that Derek trusted Stiles. And with trust followed honesty and respect, and those were the only kinds of relationships Stiles wanted in his life.

“You don’t think I’m…” Derek went quiet for a moment, his eyes trained on the floor to avoid Stiles’s gaze. “Broken, or anything, right?”

Stiles reached out, resting his hand firmly on Derek’s shoulder to get him to look back up at him. “Of course not.” He frowned; that’s the last thing he saw Derek as.

Derek’s jaw tightened and he looked straight ahead at the wall. “Good. Because I’m not.” He took a deep breath, finally facing Stiles again. “My last boyfriend treated me like I was just this thing he had to fix. But Nathan’s a whole other story.” Derek huffed out a frustrated breath.

Stiles smiled warmly, “Maybe we can save that for another time.”

Derek paused, looking directly into Stiles’s eyes. “Are you sure there’ll be a next time?” Stiles tilted his head. Why wouldn’t there be a next time? “I haven’t scared you away yet?” Stiles rolled his eyes.

“You’re an idiot Derek,” Stiles paused, noticing the slight wince on Derek’s face, “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Stiles paused, taking a deep breath as he mustered up his nerves in preparation for what he was about to say next. “I’m gonna lay this all out on the table for you so that you understand what I’m saying. First and foremost, I am your friend. I’ll be here for you whenever you need to talk or just hangout, or whatever. I like talking to you. I like spending time with you. You’re an amazing guy and when you do actually talk, you have a lot to say. And I like listening. I know I tend to ramble on sometimes, but I’m just as happy shutting up and letting you vent. Understood?”

Derek nodded. “Friends. Got it.”

Stiles shook his head. “No, you don’t ‘got it’ because I’m not done. I also need you to know that even though I’ll always put our friendship first, I also have feelings for you. Mushy, gooey feelings. I want you to hold my hand and press me up against walls and kiss me. I need you to know that I care about you a lot; and yeah, sometimes I wanna tear your pants off and straddle you. Most of the time, actually. But not because you’re super sexy – well I mean, you are super sexy – but it’s not because I just want you for your body or anything – not that I don’t want it I just-,” Stiles started to flounder, backpedaling anytime he realized how offended Derek might get from his words.

“Stiles,” Derek interrupted, resting his hand on Stiles’s knee, “I think this might be one of those times you need to shut up.” Stiles slammed his mouth shut.

Stiles was about to stand up when suddenly Derek was nudging him downwards, making him settle onto his back on the couch. Derek leaned over him, pressing his body against Stiles’s with dark eyes. “Uhh,” Stiles started but Derek shook his head.

“I know it’s not a wall, but it’s a good start, right?” Derek teased, and before Stiles could string enough words together to form an actual, coherent sentence, Derek leaned over slowly; hesitating mere inches away from Stiles’s lips.

Stiles wanted to close the distance, but he waited. He waited because Derek needed to do this on his own terms and time, and Stiles respected that. He remained as still as he possibly could while Derek hovered there, his eyes pinned on Stiles’s lips. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Derek pressed his lips against Stiles’s.

The kiss was slow and tentative at first – nothing like their first lust filled kiss back at the shop, but then Stiles had been the one to initiate it. With Derek taking the lead it felt like the world around them came to a standstill. It meant something more. If Stiles could take every single infinity and shove it into a single kiss, that’s exactly what it would feel like.

It left him breathless.

When Derek pulled away it was only long enough to thread his fingers through Stiles’s as he tugged him off the couch and led them deeper into his apartment. When they reached his bedroom he sat down on the edge and pulled Stiles into his lap; Stiles straddling Derek’s hips while his arms looped around Derek’s shoulders.

“Pressed up against something, straddling you,” Stiles laughed, “Two out of three, not bad so far.” Derek tilted his head.

“What was the third?” He asked, his lips quirking into a ridiculously adorable half smirk. Stiles couldn’t help himself; he leaned over and claimed that smile for his own, pressing his lips hard against Derek’s.

“Ripping your pants off, but that can happen at a later date.” Stiles teased and Derek pulled away, a deep frown darkening his features. He was quiet for a long moment, staring off at something behind Stiles. For a moment Stiles’s heart raced with the fear that he’d offended Derek, but slowly Derek’s frown pulled upwards into a sly smirk.

“It’s officially midnight which makes right now a later date.” He stood, lifting Stiles up with him as he went. Stiles placed his feet firmly on the ground to give Derek a bit of space while he stripped off his jeans. Derek nodded at Stiles’s pants. “Your turn.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Stiles hesitated. Derek bit at his lower lip, blinking a few times as he thought it over in his head. His fingers were hesitantly pressing under Stiles’s shirt, his fingertips warm against Stiles’s stomach. “I just… I don’t want you to regret this in the morning, y’know?” Derek’s eyes snapped up to meet Stiles’s.

He bridged the gap between them with one swift step and cupped Stiles’s cheek in his hand. “Stiles, I could never regret you.” And those were the last words that needed to be spoken.

Stiles slid out of his pants and his shirt, tugging at Derek’s sweater until he pulled it off over his head. As soon as the clothes were discarded on the floor Stiles latched onto Derek’s neck, exploring every exposed inch of skin he could reach with his lips and his tongue. He slid his mouth over Derek’s collarbone down to Derek’s nipple, sucking experimentally and relishing in the small moan it pulled from Derek.

He nudged gently at Derek’s chest in an attempt to get them on the bed, and Derek got the hint. He sat down, slowly crawling further into the bed as Stiles joined him, Stiles’s body sliding against Derek’s as soon as Derek’s back hit the bed.

Derek reached up, cupping Stiles’s jaw in his hands and pulling Stiles’s lips down to meet his own in a slow kiss that deepened as Derek slid his tongue into Stiles’s mouth. The kiss was hot and wet and Derek tasted so good Stiles never wanted to stop kissing him ever.

He could feel Derek’s hard cock outlining Derek’s boxer briefs, and with one roll of Stiles’s hips he had Derek gasping a silent plead for more.

Stiles reached down, slipping his fingers underneath the waistband, hesitating until Derek looked him in the eyes and gave a small nod. Stiles smiled, leaning down to press his lips against Derek’s and at the same time wrapping his fingers around Derek’s dick, stifling Derek’s deep moan with a kiss.

He worked Derek slowly, using the precome gathering at Derek’s tip as a lubricant. He jerked him until Derek grabbed at Stiles’s wrist, halting the hard movements entirely. “You’re honestly trying to kill me.” Up until that point his eyes had been shut tightly, and he’d been biting down on his lower lip. Now he was staring at Stiles with swollen lips and lust hazed eyes, and Stiles couldn’t handle it.

“Where do you keep your condoms and lube?” Stiles asked, sitting up and reaching over to Derek’s bedside table.

“Top drawer.” Derek answered, propping himself up on his elbows and delivering kisses all along Stiles’s chest as he opened the drawer and rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for.

“How do you want to do this?” Stiles asked and reluctantly Derek stopped kissing Stiles’s chest long enough to shrug.

“However you want to, I guess,” Derek tried, his voice small. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“No, actually, it’s however you want to.” He leveled Derek with a stern look; he wanted Derek to be in control. He didn’t want Derek to feel like he was being pressured into doing anything he didn’t want to do, and the easiest way for that to happen was to give Derek the reigns and let him make the decisions from here on out.

Derek was quiet for a moment. “Well right now I want you to take your boxers off.” He nodded at Stiles’s tented undergarments. Stiles laughed.

“Okay, I can do zat.” He slid off of Derek and quickly shed his boxers, standing idly at the side of the bed while Derek shamelessly scanned Stiles’s body from head to toe.

He licked his lips and reached out for Stiles’s hand, tugging him back onto the bed and over top of him, the expanse of their flesh molding together until Stiles wasn’t sure where he started and Derek ended. Without a word Derek popped open the bottle of lube and brought it to Stiles’s fingers, squeezing the substance out onto Stiles’s hand. He then led Stiles’s hand downwards in a silent command for Stiles to work Derek open.

Stiles only hesitated a moment before obeying; slipping one finger in at a time into Derek’s hole and slowly getting him ready. By the third finger Derek was flushed and Stiles was throbbing. “Are you okay?” Stiles asked breathlessly and Derek nodded.

“Mhmm.” He grabbed Stiles’s wrist and gave it a tight squeeze. “I’m ready.”

Stiles nodded, taking a deep breath as he pulled his fingers out of Derek. He reached for the condom and tore the package open, slipping the condom over his hyper-sensitive dick, precome already beading at the tip. He slicked himself up with some extra cautionary lube and then lined himself up and gave Derek one more cautious glance before slowly pushing in.

Derek was still tight and Stiles could tell the initial insertion was a little painful for him, so he leaned down and kissed him to try and soothe and distract. Once he’d bottomed out he stayed completely still until suddenly Derek gripped his ass. “Move.” Derek ordered, barely a discernible growl.

Stiles did as he was told.

He pulled out just enough so that he could slam back in; Derek’s fingers digging into his ass in reaction. “Still good?” Stiles asked, grinning. Derek reached up and sucked hard on Stiles’s neck, apparently more than good to keep going.

Stiles adjusted the angle and slammed in again, and again, creating a steady rhythm that coaxed out small whimpers and soft moans. He could feel the pressure building; pleasure coursed through him warm and electric. He knew it wouldn’t be much longer until he went over the edge, so he reached down and wrapped his hand around Derek’s shaft and started jerking him off.

Derek came first; almost soundless as he released all over Stiles’s hand and in between their bellies. It was Derek’s tightening that sent Stiles over the edge, his brain sizzling and his toes curling under as his hips bucked one last time. He moaned as he went boneless, the spike of pleasure setting his entire body on fire. When Stiles came down from it he leaned over once more to kiss Derek and distract him as he pulled out.

As soon as he detached himself he pulled off the condom and tied it off, tossing it in the convenient wastebasket next to the bed. He went limp next to Derek’s panting, sweating body.

They laid there side by side in relative silence for a few minutes, both still a little cum-dumb and buzzing from their orgasms. With a sigh Stiles turned onto his side so he could shift closer to Derek, resting his arm across his chest and his chin on Derek’s shoulder. “Waffles or pancakes?” Stiles asked sleepily and Derek tilted his head.

“What?” Derek asked, kissing the top of Stiles’s head as Stiles’s eyes fluttered closed.

“‘M gonna make you breakfast.” Stiles breathed out, fighting against sleep but fading fast.

Derek chuckled. “Sounds good.” And within moments Stiles fell into a deep, comfortable sleep.

---

Derek awoke to the soft sound and sensation of Stiles’s breath against his neck. He shifted slowly, trying not to wake Stiles up as he slipped out of the bed and his room. He made his way into the kitchen, glancing at the clock to see that it was almost noon.

“Shit.” Derek rubbed at his face. He was supposed to be at work in an hour. He hadn’t expected to sleep in – usually he was an early riser. He whipped up a couple of pancakes, drowned them in syrup, and poured a couple mugs of coffee. He carried it all into his room, pausing only to gaze at Stiles’s sleeping body a few moments more so that he could commit it to memory.

He smiled. “Wake up sleepy head,” He whispered, setting the plate and mug on the end table while he leaned over and kissed Stiles’s forehead.

Stiles muttered something, his lips puckering a few times while he remained asleep. Derek shook his head; he was completely smitten with Stiles. He kissed his nose and his cheek, finally kissing his lips to fully rouse him from sleep. There was a muffled sound of surprise before Stiles’s lips got the hint and started reciprocating.

“That’s probably one of the best ways to wake up. Ever.” Stiles grinned when Derek pulled away. He blinked open sleepy eyes, yawning widely before nestling back into his pillow. “What time ‘s it?”

“Almost twelve thirty.” He paused, feeling a little awkward. “I’d honestly love to lounge around in bed with you all day but I kind of have to be at work in half an hour…” He trailed off and Stiles’s eyes flew open. He blushed, sitting up in the bed.

“Sorry,” He threw the covers off, only realizing after he was uncovered that he was still completely naked from the night before. The blush deepened. “I… err…” He rose from the bed, almost flailing in his attempt to snatch his clothing from the ground. Derek had to catch him and steady him, and the moment they made eye contact they both burst into laughter.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a loss for words Stiles,” Derek teased, “We might have to do this more often.”

Stiles playfully swatted Derek’s arm. “I hate that you have to go into work, because you could’ve stayed here and then my being naked right now would’ve benefited both of us.” Stiles sighed, looking off to the side. “Oh my god pancakes!” He exclaimed, shooting a pout in Derek’s direction. “I was supposed to make breakfast.”

Derek shrugged. “Next time.”

Stiles smiled. “Next time.” He agreed.

While Stiles ate his breakfast Derek hopped into the shower, offhandedly regretting the fact that Stiles couldn’t join him. By the time he finished up and got dressed he was already going to be late for his shift. “I guess I’ll see you on Friday?” Stiles asked as they made their way down the elevator to the lobby of the building.

Derek raised an eyebrow, wrapping an arm around Stiles’s waist and pulling him into a hug. “Yeah. Or you could come by again tomorrow.” He suggested. Stiles nodded fervently, smiling slyly.

“Definitely.” They kissed then; almost missing getting off the elevator when the door dinged and started to close on them because they were too wrapped up in each other to care about the world around them.

After several attempts at saying goodbye – the last ending with Derek lightly pressing Stiles up against the side of Stiles’s jeep in the parking lot as he kissed him softly – Derek finally managed to tear himself away. He got into his Camaro and got to the store in record time with barely seconds to spare.

If he smiled for the majority of his shift Laura didn’t comment or didn’t notice, and Derek didn’t really care.

---

“Stiles! John! I’m so happy you could make it!” Talia greeted, a wide, welcoming grin lighting her features. Stiles smiled back just as broadly as Talia pulled him into a hug. “Dinner will be ready in about half an hour, so please make yourselves at home.” She paused to release Stiles and hug the Sheriff instead. “Lydia and Danny are already in the living room, and Cora and Laura are somewhere around the house.”

Right on cue Cora emerged at the top of the stairs. She was wearing a cute sundress and a dazzling smile. “Stiles!” She paused, throwing a look over to her left. “Laura! Stiles is here!” There were heavy footfalls that creaked through the ceiling as Laura bounded towards the stairs.

“Stiles!” She screeched happily, barreling down the steps and tackling Stiles over with a full force hug. She kissed his cheek several times before unwrapping her arms from around his neck. “I’m showing you my room,” She announced, lacing her fingers through his and dragging him up the stairs. “Hi John!” She called over her shoulder just before disappearing around the corner down a long hallway that led to her bedroom.

“You better not be luring me into your room to steal my chastity and virtue,” Stiles teased her and she rolled her eyes at him.

“I thought my brother had that covered?” She asked, and Stiles almost choked on his own inhale of breath. “Oh relax, I already know you spent the night as his place. He showed up at work the next day happy. That literally has never happened before.”

Stiles couldn’t hide the wide grin overtaking his face. “I don’t know if he wants it to be like, a public thing.” They hadn’t really talked about it yet; he knew that what they had was something serious and genuine, but he knew Derek needed to take things slow.

Laura rolled her eyes again. “You’re both too obvious it’s going to turn into a public thing whether you like it or not.”

“True.” Derek suddenly appeared in the doorway of the bedroom Laura was leading Stiles into. “I probably won’t be able to keep my hands off of him.” Derek smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Ugh. Stop it; you’re going to make me vomit unicorns and lollipops or something.” Laura complained, slinging Stiles into Derek’s arms and then immediately walked away. “Don’t be too loud!” She called over her shoulder.

Stiles chuckled, shaking his head. “So I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

Derek shrugged. “Do you want it to be?”

Stiles didn’t even have to think about it. He laced his fingers through Derek’s and smiled. “You’re mine Derek Hale, and I am completely, without a doubt yours. I don’t care who knows it.”

“Good,” Derek smirked and started tugging Stiles back towards the stairs. “I hope you’re hungry. My mom made enough to feed a small army.” He led them down the stairs and into the living room where Cora, Laura, Lydia, and Danny were all seated.

They all went quiet as soon as the two of them entered – they seemed to pause and take notice of the linked hands. And then they went on with things like nothing at all was out of place or out of the ordinary.

“So Derek,” Lydia greeted him, “Your fans are looking forward to your new page.”

Derek frowned. “New page?”

Lydia titled her head, a coy smile playing on her lips. “Oh, I didn’t tell you? I’m giving you an entire section on my site. You can write whatever you want, but I think what we should do is start building up a bestiary.”

Derek’s frown deepened. “A bestiary?”

Lydia nodded. “You can be as sarcastic as you want but you’ll be reporting on old myths and creatures. I’ll be able to get you access to my University so you can read through cited texts and get legitimate information.”

Derek blinked.

“That sounds awesome,” Stiles interjected.

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “It does. Almost too good to be true.” He turned his focus back onto Lydia. “Are you sure this is what your readers want?”

Lydia rolled her eyes and stood from the couch, crossing the room to pat Derek’s cheek. “Your readers definitely want this. And so do I. I expect a new article in my inbox by next Saturday.” She commanded, and how was Derek going to say no to that?

He smiled, biting his lower lip nervously. “Alright then.”

“Good.” She stated simply. After that Stiles and Derek joined them on the couch; Stiles curled into Derek, resting his head on Derek’s shoulder and sighing contentedly. The conversation carried on amiably, and by the time dinner was ready they all had already made their way into the dining room where the sheriff and Mr. Hale were talking amongst themselves.

“When exactly were you going to tell me you were dating Derek?” Stiles’s dad asked as soon as Stiles and Derek sat down next to each other.

Stiles blushed. “Uhh… right now?” He asked and Derek chuckled, hiding his face in his hands.

“We only just recently agreed to start seeing each other.” Derek answered too, and the sheriff raised an eyebrow.

“Well you better treat my boy right Derek, remember that I have access to firearms and I carry my pistol with me everywhere I go.” The sheriff leveled Derek with a hard gaze.

“And Stiles should remember that our property is very expansive. Lots of places to hide a body.” Mr. Hale chimed in, and it was at that precise moment in time that Stiles regretted everything and wished he could crawl into a hole and die with dignity instead of embarrassment.

The sheriff and Derek’s dad clinked their beer glasses together and Derek buried his face into Stiles’s neck. Stiles could feel Derek’s smile against his skin and he felt a little better.

After dinner – which was so delicious Stiles kept eating until his stomach ached and had expanded to full capacity – they retired to the living room. They sat around for hours; talking and laughing until someone looked at a clock and realized it was almost midnight and they all still had day jobs they’d have to go to.

They collected around the front door and said their goodbyes, Lydia and Danny leaving together while Cora went up to her room. Stiles’s dad gave him a questioning look, one that clearly asked, are you coming home with me or Derek.

“Hey, do you want to…?” Stiles trailed off and without skipping a beat Derek nodded.

“Don’t worry Sheriff, I’ll take good care of him.” He smiled and Stiles’s dad quirked an eyebrow.

“I have three automatic shotguns and a couple of grenades.” He warned.

“I have a shovel and a deep, unpopulated forest literally right outside my back door.” Mr. Hale added. Derek just shook his head and grabbed Stiles’s arm.

“Goodbye.” He threw over his shoulder, dragging Stiles away to where he’d parked his car.

“I think I could get used to this.” Stiles commented idly on their way to Derek’s apartment. “Threats from my dad, threats from your dad, dinner at your parent’s place every Friday night.”

Derek smiled, reaching over and grabbing Stiles’s hand in his. “Me too.”

After that Stiles just knew. He knew that this was exactly where he belonged, and that their future together would be bright and happy and no matter the challenges they faced, they’d always have each other and they’d work through it. Whatever the world threw at them now, well, they were ready for it.

---

“This is insane.” Derek breathed out, feeling a little lightheaded and overwhelmed. He scanned the room; there was a lineup that snaked in the front of the bookstore’s front entrance and around the corner, and it was still growing. Stiles laughed and shook his head, resting his hand reassuringly on Derek’s shoulder.

“This is insane,” Stiles agreed, “And absolutely amazing. You’re basically a pretty big deal.” He leaned over and kissed Derek on the cheek before taking his seat next to him behind the signing table. “Is Lydia back yet? I think the crowd of swooning teen girls are getting impatient.”

Derek rolled his eyes to mask the fact that he was getting nervous. If Lydia didn’t get back soon they might have a riot on their hands, and they had Boyd and Erica for crowd control but he didn’t want either of them getting overwhelmed or hurt. Luckily Lydia reappeared moments later with Danny and Aiden close behind her. The boys were carrying stacks of books over to where the signing table was.

“More books? Seriously?” They already had boxes full at Derek’s feet, but apparently that wasn’t going to be enough.

Lydia ignored him entirely, passing the table and heading towards the front doors. “Are we ready Ms. Martin?” The shopkeeper, Mrs. Lahey – Isaac’s mom – asked timidly. Isaac and Scott were there too, behind the cash counter quietly murmuring between themselves.

“Yes. And thank you again Donna, for letting us do this in your shop.” Lydia smiled pleasantly, giving Donna a warm hug. Donna was smiling brightly, waving Lydia’s thanks off.

“Oh no problem dear, it’s a pleasure. I’ve read Derek’s book a dozen times at least, and I’ll always support local talent.” She smiled, giving a shy wave at Derek. Derek grinned, standing from his seat and crossing the store over to her so he could give her a proper hug.

“This means a lot to me, thank you.” He smiled and she looked dazed for a moment before she smiled back.

“You-… You’re welcome.” She blushed and then scurried behind the counter and set up for when the doors would open. Derek made his way back to his seat, and as soon as he was situated behind the table Lydia nodded at Aiden and he opened up the door.

The crowd surged forward but Boyd and Erica were quick to control it, ensuring that only a number of people were allowed in the store at a time. The first ones in the lineup made a mad dash for the table; all excited smiles and nervous giggles. They handed Aiden their money and stepped right up to the table.

“Hi! Oh my God, I can’t believe it’s actually you, I love you!” The first girl squealed, thrusting her copy of Derek’s book into his face. He chuckled, more amused by her nervousness than he thought he’d be. Maybe it had something to do with Stiles’s hand resting comfortably on his knee under the table.

“Thanks, that’s very sweet of you. Who am I making this out to?” He asked, flashing her his best charming smile.

“Lisa,” She beamed, and then her friend was hip-checking her out of the way.

“And I’m Beth!” She smiled, sliding her copy of the book across the table. Derek chuckled.

“Alright, so first,” He pulled open Lisa’s book and started writing in it, “‘To Lisa, Thank you for your support; having fans like you are what make my writing worth it, Derek Hale.’” He spoke each word out loud that he wrote out. When he looked back up Lisa looked like she was about to faint.

“Thank you so, so, so much!” She squealed, grabbing the book back from Derek and staring at his writing. “Your writing is so gorgeous how is this even fair?” She whined, dramatically throwing her forehead against Beth’s shoulder.

Stiles was chuckling, shaking his head. “I know right? He’s basically perfect.” Derek looked over at Stiles to see a not-so-humble grin on his face.

“Hold on,” Beth’s eyes narrowed, “Are you the Stiles Stilinski?” She asked, her voice a gasp of air. Stiles’s eyebrows shot up high on his forehead.

“Uhh,” He paused, giving Derek a weird look, “Yes?” While the two girls were busy fawning over Stiles, Derek signed Beth's book and slid it back over to her.

“Oh. My. God!” Lisa exclaimed, clapping her hands together excitedly. “You’re dating Derek!”

Stiles chuckled, taking it all in stride. “Yes. Yes I am.” He nodded and the girls just about lost their shit.

“I totally ship you guys. I think you’re so cute together. Like, Sterek all the way.” She nodded to herself, like she approved of everything that she was saying. Beth was also nodding.

“Yeah, I ship it.” She agreed and Derek and Stiles exchanged a glance.

They’d heard about shipping and Sterek, and honestly it seemed sweet and innocent enough. There were some diehard fans out there though, and sometimes it got a little uncomfortable, but Stiles handled it all brilliantly and he made sure Derek was at ease with all of it.

“Thanks. And thanks for supporting me and reading my book, I really appreciate you guys.” Derek smiled and nodded at them, which was Boyd’s cue to usher them away. Once they were gone Stiles leaned in towards Derek.

“That was hilarious,” Stiles laughed and Derek just shook his head.

“That’s one word for it.” He laughed too, and then the next person was up to bat.

Most of the fans weren’t as assertive as the first two, which Derek was thankful for. He’d never imagined being so popular as a writer – he saw what celebrities went through with the sea of fans and paparazzi and he never wanted that. It was an adjustment he’d had to make though. Stiles attributed it to the fact that one, Derek’s writing was amazing so duh he was going to have a shit ton of fans, and two, Derek’s face was lickable.

There were a few times Derek needed to take a break – signing so many articles and books left his wrist and hand cramping, and the overwhelming number of people got on his nerves a little bit. But Stiles was always there for him, and Derek couldn’t imagine being there without him.

Derek wouldn’t have met Lydia, wouldn’t have gotten his book published, wouldn’t have been confident enough to show anyone his work had it not been for Stiles. He knew that it wasn’t all Stiles’s doing – Derek had written the book and he wasn’t retracting from that fact – but he was still thankful for everything Stiles had done for him.

He’d offered his friendship and his love with no strings attached. And that’s all Derek could ever really ask for.