The lights were dimmed and the music was loud. Stiles had absolutely no idea what he was doing. What had possessed him to come to a gay bar?

He wasn't even sure if he was gay. Maybe he was just curious? That could definitely be it. Stiles was always curious, sometimes a bit too curious. At least, that's what his teachers said.

And what if anyone noticed him? It wasn't that he was embarrassed. There was nothing wrong with being gay in his eyes, but he wasn't sure he could explain if anyone asked him what he was doing.

"Watch where you'd going." A voice growled.

Stiles, brown eyes wide, looked up into the cold ice-blue eyes of an annoyed man.

"Sorry." Stiles muttered, moving out of the way.

That's when he spotted him.

"Shit," he said under his breath. He grabbed the blue eyed man by the shoulders, hiding behind his large size.

The man's face went from annoyed to curious and he started searching for what Stiles was trying to avoid.

"Ex?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

Stiles laughed, a nervous echo of his usual one. "Not exactly."

"I'm Derek." The man said, not exactly smiling at Stiles, but something close to it.

The name and face flashed in Stiles' mind for a minute. "Hey, I know you, you're-,"

"Aaaaand we're done here." Derek said, stepping out of the way and into the thick crowd.

"Wait!" Stiles called after him.

Derek kept walking, not even the slightest hesitance in his footing. Stiles was smaller than he was, though, and it was much easier for him to manoeuvre the crowd.

When they reached the bar they both stopped. "Vodka and coke." Derek barked to the bartender.

"I'm sorry." Stiles told him, sliding into the stool beside Derek's. "I bet you get that a lot around here, huh?"

Derek ignored him.

"I know how you feel. I mean, I don't, but I kind of do? My mom died. I guess that's not as bad as what happened to you, with the fire and everything, but what I'm saying is that I can relate. I lost someone I really care about to." he trailed off, realizing how stupid he sounded.

The bartender put Derek's drink in front of him and he swung the whole thing down in a single sip. When he put the glass down, he turned to Stiles.

"Do you always talk this much?"

Stiles raised his eyebrows, taken aback. "I guess, maybe. Sometimes I get going and I just can't stop myself, even when I know I probably should. It's like a ten car pile up: you expect it to stop but they just keep crashing into each other, one after another."

Now it was Derek's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"Right, sorry, doing it again."

"You're confused." Derek stated, giving Stiles a quizzical look.

"Excuse me?"

"I can tell. You're here, but you're not sure if you should be. You're confused."

Now Stiles felt uncomfortable. That was exactly what was going on, but the fact that a complete stranger could pick up on what was going through his head put Stiles on edge. He shrugged in response, not sure how to reply to that.

"Look at me." Derek ordered.

There was something low and commanding about the instruction, and Stiles found himself complying. When he faced Derek, he found that he was much closer than he had been a moment ago. His blue eyes were filling Stiles vision and goosebumps were jumping up all over his skin in reaction. Whether in fear or desire, he wasn't positive.

And then Derek closed the rest of the space and pressed his lips against Stiles. It wasn't a gentle kiss, or a rough one. His lips were softer than you'd think, and there was a bit of stubble on his chin.

"Still confused?" Derek asked, sitting back in his seat.

Stiles looked away. "Very"

"That's Derek Hale," Stiles told Scott, giving him a 'duh!' look.

"Who?"

"You know, the one who I-," he stopped himself from saying 'the one who I may or may not have kissed at a gay bar but you don't know about that because you don't even know that I went there.' "His family died in that fire, remember?" he said instead.

Recognition flashed in Scott's eyes. "Oh."