Chapter 1

Stiles drove his Jeep through Beacon Hills, the song, 'A Beautiful Morning,' played from the radio. It was perfect. The song, the morning, it truly was the start of a great day. It was warm and sunny outside, and Stiles had the windows rolled down.

After all of the chaos of the school year, all of the struggling and suffering, with Allison's crazy hunter family and the Kanima and all of everything, Stiles was desperately grasping onto thoughts of the summer ahead. He was crossing his fingers that nothing would go wrong either. He laughed aloud at that thought, alone in the car, knowing that it was unlikely. Still, today was going to be fantastic. He was determined that it would be.

Today was the first day of his summer job at Mama's Pizza. He'd worked there last summer and it had been tearfully and perfectly uneventful. He'd made pizzas and was paid for it, and nobody died. He hadn't even burned himself on the oven, not once! Well, not enough to leave a scar, so he was practically pro.

Stiles pulled up to the restaurant and hurried in, flashing a grin at the heavyset Mama Rosa. It hadn't been that long, since he and Scott came to Mama's often, but it was good to officially be back. He stood behind the counter with Mama, with the hot oven beside them. "How's it going? Is Salvatore here yet?"

"Salvatore is not working here anymore," She said in an Italian accent. "He was late too many times so I let him go. The new guy is in back. Go say hello."

"Alrighty," Stiles said, grabbing an apron on his way and tying it behind his back. He strode into the back room and stopped short, mouth falling open. "Derek? Wha… what are you doing here?"

Derek had been living with nothing for too long. He was used to it by now, having nothing and not having to do anything but after everything that had happened fighting Kanimas and hunters, he decided it was time for some normality. Well, whatever passed for normality when you were a werewolf.

He spent a few weeks focusing on finding a new apartment, something big and open so he wouldn't feel trapped. Somewhere that he could call home. It didn't take long, Beacon Hills was a small place, out of the way of the city so nobody really moved there. He found a loft apartment and put down a deposit as soon as he had seen the place.

Structure was what Derek decided he needed. He had a place to live, next on the list was to find a job. He stayed away from popular places like Starbucks where he knew he would be talking to people all day long. He applied for a few different places, most rejected him because of his lack of experience but he managed to get an interview from one, a pizza place that seemed to attract just the right amount of attention.

He turned up for a short interview and was hired almost instantly since all of the training for the job was provided and they seemed desperate for staff. He started immediately with his week of training which wasn't quite as easy as he had hoped. He burnt his arms several times while trying to pull the pizzas out of the oven but luckily the wounds closed right back up.

His mind was always on the job, though. The work was fast pace enough most days and he always had something to do which was exactly what he wanted. In the evening he could crawl into bed and sleep soundly in his new apartment.

Mama was kind and told him about the staff that would be taking over on the register for the summer. She thought he and Derek would get along well. The last person Derek was expecting to see was Stiles pushing the door open and walking into the kitchen. He frowned when he saw him, confusion setting in before everything pieced together and he realised that he was stuck working with Stiles for an entire summer.

He sighed, mostly to himself. "I work here." He replied curtly.

Stiles gaped. Could it be true? It had to be. Derek had an apron on, and as he stared at the apron he imagined all of his summer relaxation washed away by the dark cloud that was this man. He imagined Derek silently making pizza beside him, unwilling to engage in the casual banter Salvatore was so good at. He imagined Derek glaring at him if he screwed something up, Derek up to his elbows in flour, Derek working with his hands, Derek lifting heavy crates…

Blinking, Stiles got his mind back on track and decided he was still super pissed about this turn of events. "Oh God," he finally said, "you must be Salvatore's replacement. But why… when did… no. No, no no, I cannot spend my summer like this. Nothing dangerous happened here last summer and YOU are a… a powerhouse of bad luck. And I know if something goes wrong your ass is going to be off doing werewolf biz and I'm going to be stuck here doing double the work and trying to convince Mama Rosa that you're in the freezer every time she comes back and checks on us. No, this is definitely a bad idea." He put his hands on his hips, taking a long breath after his rant. "You have to leave."

"You're the one that seems to turn up every time something goes wrong." Derek protested. And he was right. He had his fair share of unlucky 'wrong place at the wrong time' moments, but Stiles was at the centre of trouble wherever he went. "If you don't want to work with me maybe you should leave, a pizza place needs a cook more than it needs a cashier." He replied, plastering on a sarcastic smile and turning back to the dough he had been rolling.

He was happy with the job and he wasn't about to let Stiles ruin it. He wasn't sure he would be able to get another one but Stiles probably could since he was good with people. Not only did he enjoy it but he had become pretty good at it in the short amount of time he had been there. A few people had already commented on the pizzas he made and it made him kind of proud to be good at something, even if it was only pizza. So, if Stiles wasn't going to quit he was going to have to endure it and hope that Stiles wouldn't go out of his way to annoy him.

Eyes narrowing, Stiles straightened up with indignation. "I am not only a cashier, I'll have you know." Stiles made plenty of pizza when they were busy, but perhaps it was true that for some reason Mama Rosa had him at the register more than anyone else. He wasn't going to admit it though. He knew he was good at cooking, and for reasons of pride, he needed Derek to know as well.

"People especially like my badass breakfast pizza and my loaded nacho pizza too. And… and you're doing that wrong." He pointed an accusing finger at the dough, though Derek wasn't doing anything wrong and Stiles was already beginning to feel stupid.

Derek looked down at the dough he was rolling out before looking back up to Stiles. "I've not had any complaints since I started here, quite the opposite actually." Derek replied, half wondering if Stiles was telling the truth. He carried on the way he was going despite what Stiles had said. "Now if you don't mind, you should leave the cook alone while he's working." He smirked and tried to shoo stiles back out of his kitchen. He figured that as long as he and Stiles were separated by the counter between them he would be able to get through the day.

Stiles pouted. "You'll be calling me Sensei soon, just you wait."

He trudged out of the kitchen to the counter again, which was empty. It was a Monday, their least busy day of the week, and on top of that the lunch rush hadn't even started so the place was dead. Stiles wiped the front of the glass display with windex, then cleaned out the display shelves and rotated the pizzas, cleaned the already-clean counters, and stared at the one customer until it got weird. His heart lifted when it struck eleven-thirty and Scott and Isaac strode in.

"Guys!" Stiles practically cried out.

Scott turned his way. Stiles could see from his face that he'd been talking about Allison. Isaac had that vacant look indicating that he'd had to listen to it. But it wasn't in the least bit off-putting, Stiles would take his mopey best friend over almost everything on any day. Especially, especially today.

"Guyyys, move faster," he whined, clawing at the counter beside the register.

Scott and Isaac came over and Stiles sighed. "Derek is here."

Scott's gloomy look flipped over to concern. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Everything is wrong. He works here now," Stiles whimpered. "Derek is my… co-worker." He dropped his forehead against the counter, confident in the cleaning job he'd just done.

Derek could hear everything Stiles was saying. He was hardly being subtle about his whining and the shop was small anyway. He sighed to himself and carried on wiping down his workstation in the kitchen. He knew Stiles had never enjoyed his company and he had never made much of an effort to try and change the teenager's mind. He reminded himself that he wasn't here to make friends and he carried on tidying up.

He preferred his work area tidy and organized so he knew where everything was between making each pizza. He imagined Stiles would be extremely messy and half of the toppings would end up over the floor instead of the pizza. He had to stop himself smiling at the thought and quickly got his mind back to the work. As much as he tried to tune the conversation out he could still hear Isaac and Scott trying to console Stiles.

"Things will look up." Isaac told him, as though Derek's company was the worst thing that could have possibly happened to them. He gritted his teeth and walked out of the kitchen to address Scott and Isaac.

"Are you ordering something or are you leaving?" He asked, staring at them and waiting for an answer. Stiles was bad enough, Derek didn't need every one of Stiles' annoying friends turning up to complain about his existence.

Stiles straightened up and glowered. "No need to harass the customers, Derek."

"Yeah we're ordering," Scott said quickly, apparently playing peacekeeper. "We'll take a pepperoni pie to go."

Stiles punched the order into the cash register. "Anything else?"

"I'll take an orange soda," Isaac added.

Derek wrote it down quickly just in case and he walked back through to the kitchen. He left the piece of paper on the worktop and walked further back into the shop to get all of the ingredients he needed to make Scott's pie. He spent some time looking for an open bag of flour but instead had to open up a new bag when he could find an open one. Once he had everything he needed he laid it all out on the table and started on the pie.

Meanwhile Stiles gestured to the door where Derek had left, as if to silently confirm his misery. Isaac rolled his eyes and went to a seat to wait. Scott started to follow but hesitated. "Hey Stiles, can you come outside for a sec?"

"Yeah," Stiles said, looking around. Mama Rosa was in her office, busy with paperwork and Derek was in the back where he couldn't judge Stiles for slipping out. He highly doubted that the one old man eating mushroom pizza in the corner was planning to rob the register. He followed Scott out the front door. "What's up?"

"Look, I just wanted to try and convince you not to make Derek miserable this summer."

Stiles sighed. Scott was right. He didn't need anyone to explain the benefits of keeping Derek… less grouchy. "Okay, fine."

"Besides, it can't be all bad, right?" Scott leaned close, speaking softly. "You know what you said about-"

"Tss!" Stiles hissed quickly. "I was drinking! I told you to forget that."

Scott chuckled. "You had like two swigs of Morgan."

"You're still cruel for bringing up my skeletons," Stiles said.

Derek tried to tune their conversation out. They were the only two people speaking that he could pick up on so he could hear their voices pretty clearly. He didn't usually enjoy listening in on what people were talking about, most of the time he heard things he really didn't want to.

He assembled Scott's pie and once he was finished he slid it into the oven for it to cook. He stood around, leaning against the counter. He heard Scott and Stiles' conversation in full but didn't think too much of it, other than the fact that Stiles was way too young to drink.

Once the pie was boxed up to go he brought it out for Scott who hadn't returned yet so instead he gave it to Isaac along with his drink.

"Thank you," Isaac said formally. He looked more than a little uncomfortable being served by Derek.

Scott and Stiles continued to talk outside. Stiles felt even easier about it now that Mushroom Pizza Guy had left, and no one new had arrived yet.

"Listen Stiles," Scott insisted, his voice still hushed, "You don't have to make this a crappy situation. Maybe Derek won't let you crawl into his lap like you wanted when you were drunk, but it doesn't mean you can't make things civil, at least."

Stiles's face went beet red. "I hate you for even voicing that aloud."

Scott shrugged. "Yeah, well I'm sick of you two acting like kids. At least man up and get along with him. You've got all summer to get on good terms."

Rolling his eyes, Stiles scoffed. "Easier said than done."

Derek retreated back to the kitchen once he had given Isaac their order and he began tidying up again. He had flour half way up his arms and a little smudged over his shirt, he figured he probably deserved that for wearing a black shirt to a job where he handled flour all day. Sighing, he washed his hands clean and once the counter was wiped down he started washing some of the utensils he had used.

The sound of the water hitting the basin wasn't nearly enough to drown out Stiles and Scott's conversation. When he heard Scott whispering about Stiles wanting to climb into his lap he almost jumped in shock. Whatever movement he had made at hearing that revelation was enough to make him slip while holding a knife and slice open his finger. He hissed in pain and dropped the knife so he could run the wound under the cold tap as it healed itself.

Derek had already started the day off in a bad mood which was almost always the default. Now he was standing in the kitchen with blood all over his hands and flour in his hair and he was more than a little grumpy. He dried his hands and was just about ready to march outside and drag Stiles back to the register.

Isaac went outside to join Scott. "Hey Stiles, maybe you should get back in there, it sounds like Derek is throwing stuff around or something."

"Shit," Stiles muttered. He waved them off and hurried through the empty restaurant to the kitchen, where he found Derek standing with a bloody towel. "What the…!" He looked at the knife on the floor, at the bloodied flour on the cutting board and back to Derek. "You cut yourself!"

Immediately he went for the first aid kit on a nearby shelf. He knew where it was, having used the ointment and bandages on his burns in the past. He went to Derek and opened the bloody towel, half-shrieking as blood began to seep from the deep cut. "Jesus, why were you even using all that crap? We have dough ready in the fridge."

"Just leave it, it'll heal." He huffed and pulled his hand back to wrap it back up in the towel, not wanting to get blood over everything in the mean time. "They were dirty from before, I was cleaning up while we're not busy." He clarified.

When he had nothing much left to say he remembered the reason he had cut himself in the first place, the conversation he accidentally overheard. He didn't bring it up, that would just embarrass Stiles and himself which was the last thing they both needed if they were going to be spending an entire summer together. Together, in a very small pizza shop.

Stiles handed Derek a wide band-aid. "Just humor me and put this on. If Mama Rosa sees it she'll freak out and make you watch the Kitchen Safety video."

Meanwhile he pulled up the removable carving counter, which was caked in flour and a little blood, and shoved it into the industrial washer. He stuck the knife in too and shut it, listening to the hiss as scorching water washed away the evidence.

"Sorry about earlier," he said, feeling guilty. "Me being a dick isn't going to make you better at this." He leaned against the almost unbearably hot washer, enjoying the heat on his back. "Firstly, the night shift always makes up pie-size balls of dough on the racks in the fridge. Just roll out the rack to get them room temp and you're set until after lunch rush. Secondly," he smirked, "when you're washing a knife, you don't hold it by the blade."

Derek sighed and let Stiles wrap his finger up even though it would have healed itself soon enough. He watched Stiles with a scowl as he tidied up the mess, not wanting to cause any more of a scene. He was a little taken aback by the apology but accepted with a silent nod.

"I wasn't holding the blade." He almost snapped. "Something startled me and I slipped. Why are you even in here just go and do your job." He added hastily, trying to shoo Stiles out of the kitchen incase he started asking questions.

Stiles made a face. "Maybe I will, then. I hope you and your sass have fun back here."

Grabbing a knife and a package of meat to keep him busy, Stiles left the kitchen. There was a cutting board behind the display and he chopped at the slab, making sizeable chunks for calzones.

He tried to cool off his irritation, but it was hard. It had never been easy to tone down his personality. Luckily the lunch rush began and he had something to keep him distracted.

Derek watched Stiles leave and once he was alone he began making pizzas ready for the lunch time rush. He was mostly working one handed for a while until his wound was completely healed and he could pick up the pace. He managed to make quite a lot before noon hit and customers began filing in.

As they placed orders, Stiles smiled charmingly at the customers. A lot of people were from Beacon Hills High, happy to be free from it for a while. Even though he was working, Stiles was just as happy. It felt good not having to ask his dad for cash. Not that they were financially unwell or anything like that. It simply made him feel a step closer to independence to pay for some of his own things. Plus there was the Jeep, and that sucked up money like a leech.

The line grew and Stiles began pounding on the register keys with more force. It really was a blessing that he was a people pleaser, with the amount of them waiting now. There were more pizzas waiting to be baked than the oven could take at once. And just when Stiles thought that Mama's Pizza Restaurant would spontaneously combust, the lunch rush was over.

Mama came out of her office for the first time since the morning, patted Stiles on the shoulder and sat on a stool by the register. That signaled the time when he'd have to help Salvatore… well, usually Salvatore… when he'd begin helping Derek prep for dinner.

"Phew!" he sighed as he burst into the back. "That was intense for a Monday. And it was definitely because school's out. Half the faces out there were from my classes."

The readily made stack of pizzas that Derek had baked before the lunch time rush had dwindled quickly. He had the ovens stacked full of new ones while people were still outside ordering. It was exhausting. He had never thought baking could be so stressful. Eventually the rush of customers began to slow and he finally had a chance to breathe. With the ovens on full and constantly running the kitchen was boiling despite all of the windows being wide open. No wonder he had no competition for the job, he didn't know how humans could handle it.

Once the rush was over he sat down and drank down an entire glass of water, trying to cool himself down. He looked up at Stiles as he walked in and although he didn't believe working with him would be easy he was glad for the help.

"Does that happen every day?" He asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

Thinking about it, Stiles shook his head. "Nah. It'll happen once in a while but not daily."

Stiles started pounding on a ball of dough he'd retrieved from the rack, spreading it and pulling it. After a full summer he was still mediocre at spinning them in the air, and he sure as hell wasn't going to risk dropping a pie in front of Derek. He glanced at him, noticing how sweaty and exhausted he was, and hoped he'd stay sitting a while longer. Stiles took a furtive second glance. Sweaty was a good look on the guy, but Stiles kept that to himself.

"You'll also get faster," he encouraged. "That'll make a difference, when you know where everything is like the back of your hand, and how to make things without thinking."

Derek watched Stiles quietly from his seat, keeping it to himself that he would roll the dough out differently. Stiles' way of doing it was working just as well, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. He didn't make a move to get up or help just yet. He had been on his feet for the last hour, running around the kitchen, not running... that was sure to get him a front row seat to the Kitchen Safety video.

Luckily the tiredness wore off in a matter of minutes. Once had had some water in him he was ready to go again. He moved to Stiles' side and took a ball of dough to work on himself.

"Do your friends come in here often?" He asked, trying to make casual small talk. This wasn't exactly his area but he doubted Stiles would notice.

"Yeah, Scott and the gang come pretty often," Stiles said tentatively. "I won't go outside with them every time, though," he assured Derek. He didn't want to start anything.

Thinking about going outside made him think about what had been talked about outside, and he worked at the dough a little harder before spreading sauce on it. Wow, he felt awkward. He hoped that werewolves couldn't smell 'awkward' on humans or anything… that would make it even worse.

"So… what made you decide to get into the culinary arts, Derek?"

Derek shrugged his shoulders slightly, focussing on the dough he was rolling out. "It wasn't exactly my first choice." He replied as he followed Stiles' lead, spreading the sauce over the pizza base. "I needed a job, this was one of the places I applied for and they were the first to hire me." He explained.

Derek didn't exactly 'need' a job but Stiles didn't need his life story, he was probably only asking to be polite anyway. Doing what Scott had told him to do and keeping things civil.

He finished topping off his pizza with cheese while he thought about what to say next. "Uh... What about you?" He asked.

"Oh, it pays for my car. I'd say most of it goes to the car throughout the year, but sometimes I still have some spare cash. I'd also drive Scott nuts if I wasn't doing something. He's a 'sleep in and lay around' kind of guy and I'm a 'let's go on an adventure' type of guy."

Stiles was still curious about why Derek was here, of the specifics, but he knew he shouldn't pry. Yeah right, he was going to pry. He was too curious. "But about you, you said you needed a job? Why? Aren't you financially set up or something?" Stiles chuckled. "Are you here because you're bored? Not enough chaos in Beacon Hills to keep you busy?"

"I just think a grown man should have a job. I don't like not having something to do, I think too much." He clarified. That was definitely all Stiles was going to get out of him no matter how much he asked. The fact that he had just spoken about thinking too much meant that he was now thinking too much. Thanks Stiles.

He moved onto another ball of dough once his first pizza was finished and he didn't ask Stiles anything else. He flattened the dough out in silence and expected Stiles to do the same. He didn't.

Blinking, Stiles hung on Derek's last words. Getting anything personal out of the werewolf was usually like pulling teeth. Stiles could only take this as a subtle invitation to have a meaningful conversation. And as curious as he was, he wasn't going to let it slip by.

He stopped working and leaned his hip against the counter, focus on Derek. "I can totally understand that," he said earnestly, "the 'thinking too much' bit. I mean, there are also a million other reasons why I like to stay busy, but ever since Scott's bite it's been like, wow. Complete overload on new and horrible directions for life to head. Sometimes you have to drown it all out."

Derek kept working while Stiles talked at him. He didn't know how Stiles managed to talk so much and still get something done but judging by the way he was casually leaning against the counter he wasn't likely to multitask. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to respond or if he was just supposed to listen so he stayed quiet for a while, letting Stiles talk while he worked. Not exactly a surprising turn of events.

He was aware that Stiles' eyes were on him, he tried to ignore it but he didn't enjoy the scrutiny. Once his second pizza was finished and ready to go in the oven he turned to look at Stiles. "Yeah." was all Derek said to him before moving past him to get to the oven.

Stiles watched him leave the kitchen with the pizza, and wondered if he'd miscalculated. Maybe Derek just wanted to work and brood? Fine, Stiles could do that. He pounded out another pizza before Derek returned, just to prove something, but nothing in particular. They worked side by side in silence, piling up pies until Stiles was biting the inside of his mouth from the tension. Being quiet was the hardest thing in the world. He wished that Salvatore hadn't taken the kitchen radio.

He almost died of relief when his phone buzzed, giving him something to do. He pulled it out and read a text from Scott regarding a party this evening. Well, that would be fun. Getting back to work, he thought about the party and how it was probably a bad idea, and how he could use that kind of bad in his life. Non-life-threatening bad sounded rather good.

Glancing at Derek, he thought about how much of a stick-in-the-mud he was and how funny it would be to see him in that kind of setting. In fact, in the deep dream world of the never-to-be, it would be fun having Derek there in general. Stiles knew he would never go, but it would be fun to try and insist on it.

"So Scott and I are going to a party tonight, one of those awesome frat parties. There's gonna be Beer Pong and darts and drinking and coitus, I can't wait. I'm going to get so wasted." He sent Derek a furtive glance. "Wanna go?"

Derek was half way through rolling out another ball of dough when Stiles had asked. It took quite a lot for him to not at least smirk at Stiles using the word 'coitus' as opposed to an alternative. He turned to look at him, mostly wanting to check if Stiles was joking or not. He hadn't been invited to a party in years and he had never been to a frat party. He had turned up at parties for various reasons in the past but none of those reasons included having fun. Most of the time he just ended up with a few new wounds. Well, those were the downsides to babysitting teenaged werewolves.

"What about work tomorrow?" Was the first thing Derek said.

Stiles shrugged. "You know work doesn't start until ten, which means plenty of sleep if I get home by… oh let's say 3am."

Derek had a lot of questions, including why Stiles even wanted him at the party, but he figured he had to start somewhere. "And why do you want me to go anyway?" He continued, too curious to keep quiet about it. Slowly, he turned back to the pizza base and continued his work, waiting for his answer.

Color crept up Stiles' neck as Derek asked the question, his pulse quickening a bit. In the super, super deep, dark never-gonna-happen world, he had lots of answers for why he'd like to hang out with Derek. Most of said answers involved getting handsy and mouthy in a non-talking way. In the moderately dark world he would just like to get Derek comfortable enough to talk more to him, but he knew that was also hopeless.

He was getting redder, thinking about the first option again and tried to hurry up and think of an answer. "Well obviously so you can protect me from myself. I'll be consuming copious amounts of alcohol and if Scott goes home with someone else I'll need someone to drive the Jeep." He looked at Derek with a ridiculous puppy face. "You wouldn't let me drive home drunk, would you?"

Derek didn't miss the hesitation but he didn't think too much into it either. He kept his focus on the pizza he was working on as Stiles spoke. He couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that he was basically being used as a free taxi service but what did he expect? Stiles didn't even want to work in the same shop as him and they would hardly consider each other friends. Once his pizza was finished he turned to Stiles again so he could look at him while he spoke. "You're not that stupid." He stated.

Stiles was not as pleased by the complement as he should have been. "Okay, maybe I assumed you wouldn't go for any other reason than to be useful. It's not like you have much of a record of trying to have fun. If I… perhaps… said it would be fun if you went, would you possibly not be a dick about it?"

Derek shrugged slightly. "I won't be a dick about it but it doesn't mean I'm going to go to a party full of underaged and intoxicated teenagers." He replied, brushing past Stiles again to put his pizza in the oven. He was oddly pleased the Stiles seemed to actually want his company outside of work but he didn't show it.

"Dude, this is a college party." Stiles insisted, once Derek returned to the kitchen. "Not everyone is going to be underage. Just… maybe half of them? Come on, there will be grad students your age. It won't be weird."

'Casual Fun with Derek' was an alien concept that he was getting excited at the prospect of. Since he couldn't exactly explain why he wanted Derek to go, he tried to think of reasons Derek might want to.

"You could meet friends your age," Stiles joked. "Or some girls? Yes? Perhaps partake in the activities, maybe make some bets on drinking games that you would undoubtedly win. Even if that is cheating- come on, just go!"

Derek leaned back against the counter they had been making the pizzas on. "I thought you wanted me to be the designated driver?" He raised his eyebrows at him. The party was beginning to sound like a good idea but he didn't want to meet any girls. Thinking about his short list of past relationships he had decided things always turned out better when he kept to himself.

His hands were caked in flour again so he moved over to the sink and began cleaning himself up. Most of the time it was all in vain since he managed to get dirty again after about half an hour. He still hadn't given Stiles a straight 'yes' or 'no' answer since he wasn't sure himself, he would probably decide later.

"Wha.." Stiles thought it over, and yes, girls were a plot hole in his plans. "You were right about me not being that stupid, I wouldn't really need a DD. But I'm also not saying you have to get busy, I only meant you could meet girls. You know? Like casual banter? A laugh or two? Though I would still love a Designated Driver if you were offering, I'd definitely like to actually drink. But I mean, whatever…"

Stiles decided not to push it. Derek would probably say 'no' if he kept pushing, or he might change his mind if Stiles talked him into it prematurely.

Derek just let Stiles keep talking at him, not interrupting him to reply. Once his hands were clean and dry he pulled the cleaning equipment out from under the sink. "Well, it looks like we have enough pizzas for now." He said bluntly as he sprayed the work top. He hoped Stiles would take the hint and go back to the register for a while. Although he was genuinely beginning to enjoy Stiles' company, and no he definitely wouldn't admit it, it was all a little much for their first day working together.

Mama Rosa flipped the Open sign to Closed, signaling the day's end. It was 9pm and no one had come in since eight, so Stiles and Derek had the place clean already. Stiles clocked out, hung up his apron and went outside. He hesitated at the door to the jeep, lingering, scratching the back of his neck, checking his phone without really checking it.

When Derek finally came outside, Stiles lost his nerve. "Oh, uh… well it's been fun. See you tomorrow!"

He hopped in the Jeep and zoomed off. After a turn or two he texted Derek the address to the party, just in case he changed his mind.

To be continued.