It was by sheer force of will that Stiles' phone didn't go flying straight into the wall. Sheer Goddamn Will.
But it was a close call. If it weren't for the fact that he was a broke college student who could definitely not afford a new phone, the constantly dinging block in his fist would have become broken pieces imbedded in his carpet days ago.
Because the thing would just not stop dinging.
At first it had been a slightly amusing annoyance. A few FaceBook updates and the odd text asking where this 'Matt' guy had been lately. And then a few more, asking about some photography project.
And then came the sexting.
Some chick sending pictures with cleavage purposefully on display, saying things like, "Hey baby. Haven't seen you in a while, wanna meet up tonight?"
Yeah, now it was definitely not amusing- not in the slightest.
"Maybe something happened to the guy," Scott had suggested. "What if he's dead or something? What if he was part of some gang with drug dealers who wanted him gone and then somehow changed his phone number to yours? What if he was part of a secret government organization and he tried to sell them out and-"
A heavy slap to the back of the head had shut him up pretty quick. Stiles was not in the mood to deal with Scott's outlandish imagination at the moment.
Not when this chick, whose name he learned to be Kate, wouldn't stop texting him.
Even when he told her time and time again that he was most definitely not Matt, she wouldn't believe him. She would only say, "Oh come on, baby, don't be like that," and Stiles would aggressively type back, "I AM NOT YOUR BABY STOP TEXTING ME."
After that, every number he received would be blocked as soon as he told them that they had the wrong number. He was done, okay? Tired, annoyed, frustrated, exasperated, irritated, angry, freaking murderous-
His phone chimed once again.
"Ahhh!" Stiles screamed, everything he was feeling bleeding into the noise until he could feel his head clear a bit. He used that moment of clarity to look at the message.
-Matt, I know we don't like each other, but I haven't heard from Kate in a few days. Have you heard anything?
-I'm getting worried
Sighing, Stiles took a few (dozen) calming breaths, cracking his neck and fingers while he was at it, and started typing.
-This isn't Matt, you have the wrong number.
Then, with only a moment's hesitation, he sent another message.
-And I wouldn't worry about Kate, she's been texting this Matt player nonstop. For 5 days.
There was a pause in the conversation, and then the three little dots appeared. And then went away. Appeared again. Disappeared. Appeared.
And finally, a short message made its way onto his screen.
-Oh. Thanks.
And Stiles felt himself snap.
-NO FUCKING WAY, BUDDY
-I have been getting message after fucking message for days to this guy
-And this Kate chick will not leave me alone!
-Who the hell is she, and if you know her can you tell her to STOP SENDING ME HER TITS THANK YOU VERY MUCH
-I seriously do not need to know every time she's horny and down to fuck
-And i can't even enjoy the pics because i like dick!
-So please, tell everyone you know to STOP TEXTING THIS NUMBER.
-BECAUSE I AM GOING CRAZY
-THANK YOU.
Stiles ended his fit by violently flinging his phone down to his bed. The soft thump it made against the blanket contradicted Stiles' mood so extremely much that he started to rile himself up again, clenching his hands into tight fists to stop them from pulling out his hair, slamming his eyes shut to stop from glaring at his phone, which was currently daring him to throw it somewhere less forgiving than a mattress-
Ding.
The phone was snatched by his hand in less than a second, almost creaking under the strength of his grip.
-She's my girlfriend.
-Was my girlfriend.
And with that, Stiles felt the anger slip out of him, reluctantly making way for sympathy and exhaustion. He slumped down to the floor, back against his bed as he debated what to say. If he should even say anything.
Eventually, he settled for a simple,
-Damn, sorry.
That felt too insincere, so he added,
-That hardcore sucks, bro.
That felt even worse.
But not as bad as the message that came through to him the next moment.
-Yeah. Should've expected it, though. Thanks again.
Sighing, Stiles rubbed a hand down his face. He felt as though he had just ruined something, like this was all his fault, somehow. Objectively, he knew that it wasn't. That Kate chick was cheating with or without his phone number, and it was probably better that the guy knew instead of left ignorant or to find out in a much worse way, but… He still felt like it was up to him to cheer the dude up a bit.
Without really thinking, he typed and sent,
-Want me to find this Matt guy? I probably couldn't beat him up myself, but I have friends who totally could.
Deciding not to stress out over the delay in Breakup Dude's response, Stiles took a few minutes to go get a drink from his kitchen and stretch his limbs a bit. He didn't feel nearly as agitated as he had not even ten minutes ago, but he felt just as heavy. Heavier, even. Sad.
Making his way back to his phone, Stiles took a seat on his bed and checked for a message.
-I think I can handle it without your tough friends, but thanks for the offer.
Stiles' lips pulled up into a pleased smile, happy that the guy didn't seem so robotically resigned anymore. Biting his lip, he fleshed out another text.
-Are you sure? They're very macho, and probably know how to take care of a body. You and I could cheer them on from a safe distance if it would make you feel better.
Breakup Dude's replies came faster this time,
-What makes you think I couldn't beat him up myself?
-It's not him I'm upset with, anyway.
Oh, right. Kate.
-It's okay, most of my badass friends are girls, so they could still take care of She Who Must Not Be Named without us.
-Speaking of names, what's yours? I keep calling you Breakup Dude in my head.
Stiles cringed and wished he could take back that last message.
-Shit, too soon? Sorry, dude…
It took a moment longer to get a response, which made Stiles feel even worse, goddammit.
-Considering i only found out my girlfriend was cheating on me 20 minutes ago, yes. It's a bit soon.
-And my name is Derek.
Stiles groaned and wished Scott was there to smack him upside the head.
-Well, Derek. I'm Stiles, so you can stop calling me Insensitive Asshole or whatever name you're probably calling me right now.
Stiles waited a few minutes for a reply, and was oddly disappointed when none came. All week he'd been supremely pissed the fuck off at his phone and it's constant dinging. Now, though? The lack of messages was just making him feel… something subtly worse.
Which made no sense.
"Ugh, whatever," he muttered to himself, tossing his phone to the side and laying back against his pillows, ready for a nap.
Ding.
…
Ding.
…
Ding
Ding
Ding-
Stiles let out a loud groan of annoyance as he was pulled from the much-needed rest he was finally getting.
"The fuck…" he grumbled, and then the conversation with Breakup Dude- Derek, he reminded himself- came rushing back.
Feeling much more awake than he had a few seconds ago, Stiles snatched up his phone, blearily rubbing his eyes as the screen swam in front of them.
-I heard from Kate. She's denying everything, saying that I have no proof. Could you send screenshots of her texts?
-If it's no trouble.
-Stiles?
-Sorry for getting you involved.
-You don't have to do anything, forget I asked.
Stiles let out a huff. As if.
He was invested now, dammit. He had to stick it out.
-Screw that, how about we all meet for a friendly chat?
-Assuming you live nearby… We've got the same area code, though, so we can't be too far.
Waiting with baited breath, Stiles watched those damn three dots appear and disappear a few times before another message popped up.
-Are you sure?
-I live in Beacon Hills.
Smirking excitedly, Stiles typed back,
-Hell yeah. Let's put this bitch in her place.
-Long's Bakery on Main? Around 3-ish?
The response came quickly.
-Okay, fine. See you then.
A grin washed over Stiles' face. He was excited. This was gonna be good.
Stiles got to the bakery a few minutes early, taking the time to buy two cinnamon rolls. One for him and one for Derek.
And if he was aiming to piss off Kate, well. He honestly didn't care if they all knew it. The bitch deserved it.
Stiles was about half way through the pastry when the bell to the shop rang, and Stiles gazed up to see a whirlwind of angry blonde woman storm inside. He immediately recognized her to be Kate from the multitude of pictures she'd sent him, and his stomach rolled with contempt.
And then, right behind her, in walked a man wearing a leather jacket as stark as his stubble and pants almost as tight as his clenched jaw.
Derek.
Well, damn.
Prying his eyes away from them both, Stiles brushed any crumbs off of his shirt and wiped his hands on a napkin. He then waved a hand to get their attention, smiling at the way Kate's eyes latched onto his and narrowed dangerously. She sauntered over to Stiles' table, eyeing his phone, which was sitting innocently on the table in front of him. Stiles smiled back as sweetly as he could physically manage, and her frown turned into a sneer.
Yeah. This was definitely going to be fun.
Derek appeared beside her the next moment, looking angry and apprehensive and resigned and like he was trying his damndest to hide it all behind a scowl.
It made Stiles' heart sink a bit. Poor guy.
"So you must be Derek! Nice to meet you, I'm Stiles." He held his hand out to the man, pleased when it was shaken, even if a bit hesitantly. Then he turned back to the woman. "And, of course, I know you're Kate. It'd be hard not to recognize you after all those photos you sent me. Which happen to be right here on my phone! So how about you both sit down and we'll talk about all this, yeah?" he asked with an obviously fake pleasance.
Kate reluctantly slid into the opposite side of the booth first, and then immediately went to grab Stiles' phone. Stiles let her, knowing she wouldn't get what she wanted.
Predictably, Kate let out an angry huff as the screen demanded four unknown digits for entry. Derek sat next to her, keeping a wide gap between them, and took the phone from her hand, placing it back on the table in front of Stiles.
"Cinnamon roll?" Stiles asked, sliding the whole one across to their side. However, when Kate slowly reached for it, he spoke up again. "Not you. It's for Derek. Weren't you ever taught not to take things that aren't yours? That's two times already, lady. Not a good first impression."
"Look here, you little shit. I think we both know that I did not send you anything. I don't know how you got my photos, but I'm willing to bet you've been putting them to good use, haven't you? Taking advantage of leaked photos is sick, you bastard-"
"I'm gay, bitch, don't even try it."
Ignoring Kate's indignant sputtering and threats was extremely difficult when all he wanted to do was laugh in her bright red face. But he managed, and he unlocked his phone to bring up the messages she had sent him in the last few days, handing it over to Derek, who was so far silent.
It didn't take long for him to go through everything, and even though his eyebrows kept furrowing, he didn't looked surprised.
Derek set the phone back down on the table and took a deep, quiet breath. Then he said, "You should go."
Stiles felt a slight indignance rise up in him, but also an understanding, and was about to reluctantly stand and leave when Derek stood up from the table himself and looked at Kate.
Oh.
He was telling Kate to leave.
Damn.
Kate looked disbelievingly at him, but stood regardless. Getting right up in Derek's face, she growled, "You know you don't want to do this, Derek."
Derek didn't say anything, just stared her down until she scoffed and strutted back towards the door, throwing over her shoulder a haughty, "You'll regret this, Derek."
As soon as the door had swung shut, Kate on the other side of it, Derek collapsed back into the booth with a sigh.
Stiles nudged the plate with the cinnamon roll a bit closer to him.
"Sweets are a sure fire way to feel better, in my book."
Derek gave him sassy eyebrow lift, but picked off a small piece of pastry nonetheless. Stiles grinned at him from across the table.
"So? How you feelin'?"
Derek looked at him curiously and then shrugged. "Not as bad as I should be. I think I was expecting this."
And wasn't that just heartbreaking?
"Dude, depressing. Has she does this kinda shit before?"
Derek shook his head, saying, "I don't know. I've known something was up for a while, but I was hoping it wasn't this."
Stiles shuffles his feet on the ground, feeling awkward in the face of this man who should be angry, has every right to be completely furious, but instead is defeated. Resigned to the fact that his girlfriend was unfaithful and seemingly accepting his situation without any emotion… He didn't know how to deal with that.
So he just lightly kicked Derek's foot under the table and smiled at the man, pleased when he smiled back, just a small uptick at the corner of his mouth.
Derek cleared his throat, looking vaguely uncomfortable (i.e. insanely uncomfortable), and muttered, "Thank you. For helping with this."
Stiles smiled widely. "No problem." And then, before he lost his nerve, he said, "And you know, just 'cause this is all over doesn't mean you have to lose my phone number…"
Derek stared at him again, and it was just as though those three little dots were appearing in his eyes as Stiles waited for a response.
But when it finally did come, it did not disappoint.
"It's a good thing I don't want to lose it, then."
End
Funny story: this is based off real events. I kept getting texts for someone named Leslie, and through the miscommunication, I helped a girl named Scarlet expose her husband Jason, who was cheating on her with her best friend Leslie. Very dramatic. Sadly, my story didn't end with an unexpected romance, but whatever.
Please leave a review if you enjoyed! They mean the world to me.
(Title is from "Postres" by Highly Suspect. The song's great, which means the fic title doesn't have to make sense.)