Both the quote from the summary and the inspiration for this story came from Aziz Ansari's special, Buried Alive. More specifically the part where he talks about chance encounters.

Disclaimer: I've never jump started a car. I've only ever seen it done once, therefore I skimmed over the details. I am in no way pretending to be an expert on the subject, so if you ever find yourself in this situation, make sure you've got someone who knows what they're doing. And if they look like Derek, get their number.


Stiles was a firm believer that ninety percent of your actions throughout the day were essentially pointless.

At least, he used to be.

Then, a trip to Walgreens changed his life forever.

The day started out like any other day. The sun was out, the birds were singing, and Scott was farting.

Wait. What?

Stiles pulled his shirt up to cover his nose as he entered the living room of their shared apartment. "What the hell, Scott, did you eat a bean factory or something?"

"The taqueria was having a sale," Scott said from where he was sitting, in Stiles' favorite spot no less. "Ten burritos for three dollars."

"Did you at least save me some?"

Scott looked away. "Um."

Stiles sighed. "You're lucky I love you, man."

"Can you run to the drugstore for me?"

"What?" Stiles said. "Why?"

"I've got dinner with Allison's parents tonight. I can't go out like this!" On cue, he farted again, quite loudly.

Stiles grabbed his keys and hoodie. "Anything to get away from that smell, god!" He had to refill his Adderall prescription anyway.

"Thank you!"

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles said as left the apartment. Then he headed down to his Jeep and drove to the nearest Walgreens.

When he arrived, he spent a few minutes wandering around the store, picking up things that might be useful.

Did he really need a memory foam lumbar support cushion? Not really. But if it kept him away Scott's rank bean farts, he would buy a hundred.

Eventually, though, he found himself in the section for digestive health, staring at the selection.

"Hey," he said to a passing employee, "my buddy's-"

The employee cut him off. "Sale at the taqueria?" he said.

"Uh, yeah."

He pulled a box of extra strength Gas-X off the shelf and shoved it at him. "We've got a wonderful selection of chewing gum up near the registers, if you need to stay out of the house any longer."

Stiles gave the guy a salute and headed into a different aisle.

While he was browsing the, frankly, alarming selection of feminine products (he was desperate, okay?), he happened to glance up and see the most gorgeous man ever walk through the door and head straight for Stiles.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered. "Okay, be cool. Be cool."

Leather Jacket Dreamboat stopped a few feet away from Stiles and began scanning the shelves.

He was probably here shopping for his girlfriend. His super hot girlfriend that he was so in love with, and who trusted him so implicitly that he was out on a supply run for her time of the month.

Allison didn't even ask Scott to do that for her, and they had that epic forever love that made Stiles want to simultaneously gag and coo at them.

Adonis Reincarnated was giving him a weird look, and it was only then that Stiles realized that he was staring, with an expression that probably looked vaguely constipated, if Scott right. Which he wasn't often. Bless his soul, but that boy was not very bright.

Like that one time, he... Oh shit, he was staring again.

"Can I help you with something?" Hotter Than Hell said.

Stiles coughed. "Uh no, sorry. You're here to run an errand for your girlfriend, not to have some weird kid stare at you."

"Sister. I don't have a girlfriend." Perfect Amazing Muscles looked amused.

Did Stiles hear that right? The man of his dreams was single? He discreetly pinched himself. Nope, not dreaming.

"Cool. Obviously not cool for you, cool for everybody else. Not that, um. Wow. I'm just gonna go." He turned around and walked away.

"Way to go Stiles," he berated himself under his breath. "Way to embarrass yourself in front of literally the hottest person you've ever seen. This is why we can't have nice things."

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Gorgeous McStubble smiling as if he heard him talking, but that was impossible, right?

Right.

He managed to pick up his prescription and pay for everything without further incident. He jogged to his car in the rain, which had started while he was in the store. Once he was safely inside, he turned the key in the ignition and...nothing. Fuck.

Stiles had his head under the hood and was poking around when a voice at his shoulder said, "Need a hand?"

He narrowly avoided hitting his head on the hood and spun around, only to end up face-to-face with his future husband.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Do you need any help?"

"No. Yes! Um." Stiles tried to focus on something other than how gorgeous he looked wet. "I need a jump. Are you parked nearby?"

His Knight in Shining Eyebrows pointed over his shoulder at the Camaro in the next parking space. "Have you got jumper cables?"

Did he ever. Stiles was prepared for anything. Except, apparently, attractive men who run errands for their sisters.

"Derek Hale," he said suddenly.

"What?"

"You were saying a lot of that stuff out loud. I figured you might like to have an actual name." Derek smirked. "Though I did kind of like Leather Jacket Dreamboat."

Stiles put his head under the hood again. "Just do me a favor and slam that down on my head."

Derek laughed. It sounded beautiful. "Thank you. Now get your cables."

Eventually, Stiles got his act together and did just that.

"You never told me your name," Derek said while they waited for the battery to charge.

"Stiles," he said. "Stilinski."

"Seriously?"

Stiles shrugged. "Until someone finds my birth certificate. Which will never happen. My dad's a cop. I got good at hiding stuff." He hopped up and started to disconnect the cables. "Thanks for this. You probably gotta get back to your sister now though."

"Sisters, actually. Both of them. At the same time." Derek shuddered. "That plus the- Never mind. Either way, it's not pretty.

Stiles winced sympathetically. "Well I won't keep you here any longer then."

"Hold on," Derek said, digging around in his pocket. He produced a pen, pushed Stiles' sleeve up to get to the dry part of his arm, and wrote down some numbers. It took Stiles a moment to realize it was a phone number. "Call me if you need a ride to dinner."

"Dinner?"

"Dinner," he repeated, already walking away. "Tomorrow, seven o'clock, the Italian place on 5th." With that, he got into his car and drove away.

On the drive home, Stiles considered the randomness of it all. What if Scott hadn't eaten those burritos? What if he'd gone to CVS instead? What if Derek had gone to CVS instead? What if either of them had parked somewhere else?

He arrived back at the apartment with a new appreciation for the idea of fate and destiny. And that wet jeans feeling. He quickly changed into something dry, and then dropped into Scott's favorite armchair, spraying Febreze along the way. He tossed the Gas-X at Scott.

"Thanks, bro," Scott said, breaking the seal. "I owe you one."

"We'll call it even," Stiles said, a little dazed.

Today's actions were definitely not pointless.


Maybe one day I'll get through a fic without making any eyebrow jokes. Today is not that day.

No, but really though, this has been lying around in my to be continued folder for months, so I'm glad that I've finally finished it. And I'm actually pretty pleased with how it turned out.