A/N: this chapter is edited a little and there's a chapter two now! it'll be explained in the author notes there! enjoy:)

Stiles sits on the stool alone that night in the local bar—drinking a coke, see: Sheriff's son who's only 20—because Scott is a jerk of a best friend who is abandoning him for a Deaton, Scott's boss who's a vet. Man, he is abandoned for a frickin' Deaton. He could accept it when the reason is Allison, okay, he could.

Not Deaton.

Who the hell abandon their best friend for their boss?

Okay, he doesn't pay Scott for the time spent with him, fair enough. But still.

He sighs, sipping his alcohol-less drink while leaning down on the table with a thump, not really caring about the amused stare he gets from Erica, the bartender that's been spoiling him rotten since the day he calls her Catwoman. Whatever, he is jobless (just kicked out of his part time job, still a student and on a break) and dateless and best-friend-less and enemy-less. God, he even misses Jackson (the enemy part, of course), anything to keep him busy, really.

He's snapped from his trance by Erica's voice, unusually excited and flirt-less (what's with him and a not-really word 'something-less' tonight? Shit, he's not even drunk), that says "Derek! You're back! Since when?"

Stiles looks to his right and groans inwardly, because of course, of course a guy that attractive would sit beside Stiles. No wonder barely one hits on him every time he comes to a bar or a pub.

"Couple hours." He hears the guy—Derek, his mind supplies—grunts, with a voice surprisingly softer than he expected, face grumpy as hell. And wow, isn't this guy has a peachy personality. Because, monosyllabic, really?

"For the whole summer break?" a nod, "Peter lets you take that much holiday? Are you sure he's not up to something?"

"Don't care."

"Are you sure?" Erica repeats.

"Enjoy things while it lasts." He sees Derek shrugs.

"With Peter, that's… true enough. Here, the usual. On me." Erica gives Derek a beer (Tall, Dark, Handsome, Mysterious, Older. Huh.) and winks before she leaves the two of them together. She doesn't forget to give Stiles a smirk before she goes, forcing him to realize that he's been staring the whole time.

Stiles just scowls—he rarely scowls, he's not lying, but he's still bitter because of Scott—and promptly ignore the perfection that sits next to him for the next fifteen minutes. He mulls it over in his head after that, contemplating the pros (having someone to talk to) and cons (being ignored, clue: peachy personality). It's another five minutes before he caves.

"I'm Stiles." He turns to face the guy—Derek—fully, offering a hand. He makes sure he doesn't use any suggesting tones, because yes, this guy is hot in a call-fire-department level, but 1. He knows it won't work for this guy, 2. He's not interested in one night stand, if it even worked for the guy and 3. He doesn't really want sex, he wants someone to complain about Scott to.

Derek (it's fucking weird to call a name in your head before they introduce themselves to you) just turns his head a little, looking at him from head to toe, and turns back to his drink, sipping it before saying, a curt, "Derek.", completely not assessing his offered hand at all.

He shrugs. At least the guy talks, he's not picky. "You know, it's weird for me to be here alone. I'm always with my best friend Scott, which is the worst wingman ever, though beggars can't be choosers. But could you believe that he ditches me for his boss tonight? He says he's gonna cheer me up since I was recently kicked out of my job, but thank you so much for leaving me, Scott. It's frickin summer break and I'm bored to death because of him. And it's only the second day. I couldn't imagine all the ditching he's about to do this month. I really hate him right now." He sighs.

Derek only hums in response. Whatever. Scott usually doesn't even give a sign that he's listening. He could see that Derek appreciates the thing that is Stilinski talking charm ("It isn't a thing, Stiles. I don't talk as much as you do. Nobody talks as much as you do." "I don't want your opinion, Dad.").

They were quiet for a few moments, with Stiles not having any idea what to do next now that he said what he wanted to say and Derek sipping his beer, before he finally breaks.

"Are you from around here?"

Derek nods.

"Where do you live? I couldn't believe I haven't met you before. I mean, have you seen this town? Everyone knows everyone."

"The Preserve. Live in San Fran for six years."

"The Pre—you're a Hale?" a nod, "Wait, wait, wait, Derek Hale? The little brother who made Laura bitched about the lost mascara for a week?"

Derek finally looks at him and scowls, then, "You talk to Laura? She left it in my apartment, it's not my fault I thought it was trash."

He laughs. "I know Laura, she's my father's deputy."

The surprised look on Derek's face is so, so adorable. Not that he'd say it out loud. He still values his life. "Your father's—Stilinski? Sheriff Stilinski?"

He nods, "The one and only."

"Your parents named you Stiles Stilinski." Even he could hear the judgment in Derek's voice. It's that bad.

"If you thought Stiles is bad, you wouldn't want to know the ridiculousness that is my real name. You should count yourself lucky that you've never seen a thing totally unpronounceable."

Derek hums again, "It couldn't be that bad."

He rolls his eyes, "It is. Trust me, I firmly believed that they want their child to have a good sense of humor. It has to start somewhere, right?"

Derek stares at him incredulously and, after a few seconds, snorts. "You think you have a good sense of humor."

He shrugs, "I totally made you, Scowl-y Growly Totally Not Peachy McStubbly snort. I count it as a win. That's all capitalized, by the way."

"You're ridiculous."

"Your face is ridiculous."

"Your mouth is ridiculous."

"Your eyes are—wait, is that even a color? How are those things legal?"

Derek laughs, bright and clear, and Stiles is—

He is so fucked.

(Laura's gonna mock him forever for this.)

His phone buzzes from beside him when he's lying around in his bed after a bro time with Scott, telling him he gets a new message. It's from Derek. His lips tug involuntarily while he opens it. It's been three days and they've been texting back and forth since then, at first talking ninety percent about his college course in Berkeley and ten percent about nonsense, now ten percent about his college course in Berkeley and ninety percent about nonsense.

[19:55] From: Derek H
Dinner with Laura. She's talking about 'strangling the baddie who's been messing with BHPD with a metal cord and dump the body someplace unknown' nonstop. It's terrifying.

[19:56] To: Derek H
I sympathize with you, man, I do. But Lydia is far worse.

[20:00] From: Derek H
…don't ever let me meet her.

[20:01] To: Derek H
Careful there. Don't jinx yourself.

[20:05] From: Derek H
Right. Twenty bucks on you leaving me alone with her someday just for your amusement.

[20:06] To: Derek H
Oh no, what gave it away?

[20:08] From: Derek H
Please tell me you're kidding.

[20:08] To: Derek H
Hmm, tough luck, buddy.

[20:10] From: Derek H
Have you met Laura? The devil who's been torturing me since the day I was born? I don't want to know what kind of Satan Lydia is.

[20:11] To: Derek H
The kind that's been making everyone in elementary, middle and high school her slave. I was lucky that I was off her radar until sophomore year in BHHS. I'm totally her favorite person after that, but she still makes me kiss Jackson fucking Whittemore on the lips. The Douche King I told you about. In Truth or Dare. Did I mention on the lips? P.s.: Jackson and I have been enemy since our mom's tummy.

[20:11] From: Laura H
GOD STILES WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BROTHER? DID YOU BREAK HIM?

[20:12] From: Laura H
HE'S LAUGHING HIS ASS OFF READING YOUR TEXT AND IT'S SCARING THE HELL OUT OF ME.

[20:12] From: Laura H
STILES

[20:12] From: Derek H
Why does Laura say she's texting you? And why does she look at me like I'm an alien?

[20:13] From: Derek H
Stiles.

[20:13] From: Derek H
Answer, please. She's scaring the hell out of me.

Stiles doesn't reply to any of those for a good five minutes. Because he's busy. Cackling. Until he rolls out of bed and falls to the floor.

"I want to meet Derek." Scott says one day out of the blue, right when he clicks send to the text he just typed for Derek. They're hanging out on Scott's living room, a controller in Scott's hand, Mario Kart on the TV (Scott is losing the game, FYI), Scott on the right side of the sofa and himself on the left side. He chances a confused look at his best friend.

"You want to meet Derek." he drawls the words, baffled at the statement.

"I just said that, Stiles." Scott rolls his eyes.

"Why do you want to meet Derek?"

"Why not?"

"Scott."

"Dude, I want to see the guy who makes you crazy over him, okay? You didn't even get to this level of insanity over Lydia."

He almost falls out of the couch. Scott doesn't even flinch. Years and years of friendship could get people used to his flailing around, apparently. Or it's just Scott. "Crazy over—Scott, it's just a crush."

Scott gives him an unimpressed look. "Right, a crush the size of United States of America."

"God, you spend too much time with me."

"I want to meet Derek." Scott repeats.

"Okay, okay, just shut up."

His best friend then gives him a puppy dog eyes shit eating grin. The look apparently works for Scott.

Stiles can do this.

He's collected and calm.

He's the epitome of perfectly presentable.

Okay, no, why's he even bothering to lie. He's actually nervous as hell. Like, what if Scott doesn't like Derek at all? What if they don't get along? What if Scott doesn't approve of Stiles' taste that is Derek Hale? Oh God, oh God, oh God, what if Scott hates Derek and tells Stiles' dad about it? Worse, what if he tells Lydia about it, just so Lydia could intimidate the shit out of Derek? It's fucking nerve-wracking. It's like introducing-the-boyfriend-to-the-best-friend part of the relationship. Except Derek is not his boyfriend. And he doesn't want to introduce Derek. Scott forces him. Right.

Also, he's nervous as hell. Wait, didn't he already say that in his head?

How many Adderall did he take today, again?

"Stop twitching." Scott hisses. Scott has become meaner, lately. He should have known leaving Scott at the same college as Lydia, rooming together no less, is a very, very bad idea. The only thing he could be thankful about right now is the fact that Lydia goes on a trip to Europe for the break.

"Shut up. What if you loathe him?"

"Stiles, you don't make any sense, especially the things you're currently thinking in your head." Stiles opens his mouth to ask if Scott can—"Yes, I can see all those absurd thoughts. It's loud." Scott rolls his eyes. Stiles absolutely does not pout at that. Nope.

Scott definitely has become meaner.

Not five minutes later, Derek and all his muscles glory comes into the diner they agreed to meet on, which Stiles forgot to mention earlier in his inner drabble (because as previously said, twice, nervous as hell). Oh, and that he and Scott came fifteen minutes early. Okay, his brain is officially damaged. He couldn't even sort out his own thoughts. He should keep his mouth shut for the rest of the lunch (right, forgot to say that it's lunch time, too) if he doesn't want to blurt out anything stupid.

Has he mentioned that Derek is really, really gorgeous in his long-sleeved Henley and jeans? That guy doesn't even dress up and manages to look so good.

Even Scott's jaw dropped. Ha.

"Tell me that isn't Derek." His best friend whispers right when Derek recognizes him and smiles a little, making his way to their table.

"Unfortunately, that certainly is." He sighs wistfully. He knows what Scott means. Looking at Derek does things to people's self-esteem.

When Derek finally arrives at their table, he immediately takes a seat in front of Stiles and sends him another smile. "Hi." He says.

"Hi." Stiles breathes, heart hammering in his chest.

"Hey. I'm Scott." Scott interrupts whatever it is going on. He swears he's not the only one startles at the voice, though Derek does it more subtly than him, who full on jumps, almost out of his seat.

And then, and then Derek's face changes, like, one hundred and eighty degrees level of change. His facial expression turns into the scowls Stiles was seeing the first time they met. His eyebrows look pinched together, as if he's only figuring out that Scott is also there. A few seconds pass before Derek nods, offering a hand (offering! He didn't even bat an eye at Stiles' offered hand two weeks ago when Stiles introduced himself), says, "Derek.", gruffly.

After the initial awkwardness, Scott and Derek get along pretty well, all things considered. They talk about animals, mostly. Stiles would be content to sit down and listen, except that is so not him, so he joins with weird facts about the current animal Scott and Derek are talking about.

("Do you know that snail can grow back an eye if it loses one?"

"Stiles.", Scott says.

"I've tried, they can.")

("Be grateful that you're not a flamingo, man, you should do a handstand when you eat, otherwise. Do you know that they only eat when their head is upside down?"

"Oh my God.")

("Hey, you'd totally make some girl pregnant if you're a koala. The males have two penises."

"Stiles." Scott tries. Derek just looks at him with Amused Eyebrows #2. It's the kind where he wants to smile and desperately fights it.

"And the females have two vaginas. I checked."

"Stiles, stop talking about disturbing things.")

When Derek excuses himself to go to the toilet, Scott is in Stiles' face as soon as Derek is out of earshot, whispering, "Dude, does he always look that constipated?"

"He's like that when I first met him, smiles more since then, though. I don't know what change today."

"Huh."

Scott is trailing him home (to his childhood house, okay, he doesn't want to leave his dad yet) after the meeting with Derek, following him to his room and flopping down on his bed while he strips out of his clothes—in front of Scott, yes—to change into a sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"You know," Scott starts, "He's as bad as you are."

"What do you mean?" he says as he sits on the desk chair, opening his laptop.

"Stiles, have you become dumber than me or are you doing this on purpose?"

He glares at Scott, "I don't know what you're talking about, dude."

Scott lets out a long-suffering sigh, "He's as bad about you as you are about him! Stiles, he totally only smiles when you're there! He talked to me with that constipated default expression, and became all soft around the edges when he turned his head to you. Are you becoming blind as well?"

He frowns, "I'm not blind."

"God, so not the point." Scott rolls his eyes.

"Right. And no, he's not."

"He is, buddy, he is."

"He's definitely not."

Scott looks at the ceiling, groaning. "I don't know what great sin I created upon myself in my previous life to deserve you."

"You're the one who left me for Deaton!"

"Stiles, we're over that, already!"

"Whatever."

"He is." Scott says again after a beat.

"He is not."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Ugh."

Stiles is… Stiles wants to die, okay?

It's not fair. It isn't fair at all.

Who the hell thinks it's a good idea to put Derek and a puppy in the same room?

Not Stiles, certainly. Nope. No.

Seriously, though, Stiles only wants a nice lunch with his best friend, who works as an assistant vet, and instead of texting said best friend where to meet, come to said best friend's workplace to save all the hassle. He figures they could go together from there and he could drop Scott off after they're done. He's a good friend like that.

But.

But. What are Derek and a puppy doing there on the waiting room? Why is the puppy cradled happily on Derek's chest like that? It's destructive scenery, that's what it is. He swears he could almost hear himself whimper. He hasn't even fully come inside the office yet. Ugh. What did he do to deserve this kind of heart attack?

He's torn between wanting to flee, because of obvious reason (clue: fragile heart that could transform to a melting goo), and stay to look at Derek and puppy all day, or all year, whatever. But then Derek beats him to it, turning to him and smiling that small, disarming smile, before he could decide what choice would be best for his dignity.

He fucking hates that smile.

It makes him want to do anything Derek wants him to do.

Anyway.

"Stiles." Derek calls.

"Uh… hi." He says dumbly. "That yours?"

As if on cue, the puppy nuzzles Derek's neck, making Derek looks at it with fond and loving eyes. That fucking puppy really knows ways to kill Stiles with cuteness.

"Laura's. His name is Finn."

"Hi there, Finn." He says, walking closer to Derek and crouching down so he's to Derek's eye level. He tries to pry the puppy out of Derek's arm and into his, looking into those beautiful, beautiful eyes for permission.

"Careful. Don't let the adorableness fool you. He likes to bite strangers." Derek says while handing Finn to him. Contrary to Derek's word, the dog just snuggles closer to Stiles chest. He couldn't help being smug. He's about to rub it in Derek's face when he glances at the older guy and sees the look Derek's sporting.

It's fond, full of affection, the softest of all soft looks. And all for him.

Okay, the thing is, he's starting to notice all Derek's gesture towards him since Scott confronts him about it. How Derek talks to him, laugh around him, the lingering touches, the longing stares, the small, private smile that makes him breathless. It's all there, always been there all along. He's just too focused on his own feelings to notice.

And when he does notice, it's like all birthdays and Christmases come at once.

He just doesn't want to give Scott the satisfaction by admitting it.

Anyway.

He and Derek look at each other for a few moments after that. A few, he's-sure-he's-not-imagining-it intimate moments, before Scott's head pops out of the examination room, shouting Laura's name. Whatever magic is there disappears into thin airs as Derek stands up with reaching hands. Finn obediently jumps out of his arms to Derek's.

Scott notices him, then, saying, "Oh, hey. Wait for me? This little guy is the last one before lunch break."

He nods minutely, staring at Derek's retreating back. He feels like caught up in the act when Derek turns to him with a smile. "See you later, Stiles."

"Yeah." He smiles back (who in their right mind wouldn't?). "See you later."