author's note: Happy Valentine's Day! I'm not entirely happy with the way this turned out, but I wanted to do something for this day of love. (If you like it, should I write out how their date actually went?)

Semi-Efficacious Spontaneity

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Stiles waited impatiently outside a certain sourwolf's front door. It had been entirely unplanned and spontaneous, but he still found himself cursing the man for not being here to accept the sudden plan. Not having considered the possibility for him not being home - and even if the teen had planned this out, who would have ever thought that Derek would be out and about on a day like this? - he could do nothing more than awkwardly pound on the door once more before rolling back onto his heels.

The time that had passed was counted only by impatient sighs and glances from the house to the jeep, wondering if he should just leave. It was counted by the many circles around the house he did, banging on each door and window and rather loudly declaring that Derek was no more than a lazy alpha who shouldn't even be alpha if he couldn't answer the door. What if this was serious trouble and the pack was in danger?! Mr. Sourwolf wouldn't know because he was no where to be found. And it was counted by the number of times he had went to give up and opened the door of his jeep, foot hovering just above the ground before shutting the door and going to wait again.

Just as the time wasn't truly exact, there was no exact moment that made Stiles give one last angry hit to the wooden door, causing it to creak but not budge, and turn to leave for the final time. He hadn't a clue why he had stayed for so long in the first place - perhaps it was because he was finally going to admit to the feelings he had been denying for some time. Perhaps it was due to the fact that for the first Valentine's Day, he had prepared something for someone other than the unattainable Lydia. (The spontaneity should count for him, not against him!)

But he was quite finished waiting, muttering a few words about how the werewolf could go get his own roses (even though he hadn't quite gotten a rose - plastic wasn't too bad, right?) and he could plan his own night out.

What he didn't know, however, was that the sourwolf had done exactly that, only it had been thought of days, weeks earlier. After all, Derek had never been one for the sudden, random decisions, preferring to plan and observe for a lengthy amount of time before putting something into action, and even that action took time. The only thing they shared in common at this moment was the inability to appropriately inform the other of any such plans, previously arranged or not.

As such, he had not expected to see a very disgruntled alpha on the porch of Scott's house, eyes glowing dangerously as he pulled into the drive. He approached with his typical werewolf stride, only to be met with an equally frustrated teen who slammed his car door, closing the distance first and pushing the male back.

"Where the hell were you?" It was a demand of irritation, especially as, if he were to ever consider it, he shouldn't have expected the man to be home. Not as if he'd have a hot date for the day of love - no, more likely than not, he would have been hunting. But there wasn't a speck of blood on the hands that were curled into fists at his sides, nor anything mussing the hair that was-

Why did it look as if his hair was more cared for than normal? Slicked back, almost, in a way that made the human scrunch his nose. It was a very non-Derek thing, something that distracted him momentarily from the situation before another thought invaded his mind and made him bristle with another bout of anger.

"Tch, actually found a woman who didn't mind hairy men?" Spiteful even with a crooked smirk on his lips, he crossed his arms, pointedly matching the glare of the other.

The sourwolf's narrowed eyes seemed to waver in intensity at the question, head tilting for a moment before recognition filled his features, fingers loosening at his sides before he laughed in that odd, why-is-Derek-laughing laugh. "Unless you've changed your preference?"

Then it was time for the Stilinski teen to frown in confusion before understanding hit him and he, in turn, hit the alpha. "The only woman here is you." The comeback lacked the normal Stilinski touch, but he was still reeling with the possibilities that had been so clearly implied.

"I heard no denial of your attraction to hairy men."

Lips parted before clamping together rather tightly, fighting down the flush of cheeks that matched the hoodie he was wearing. With no response, and certainly no denial, he could merely stand there and stare before crossing his arms to a nearly awkward tightness and frowning deeper. "You were supposed to be at your house."

"For?"

Another shade darker, he averted his gaze, offering only a careless shrug as he decided to toss the idea of a night away. It was already rather late - not as if he hadn't spent later nights doing pack stuff. "Why were you at Scott's anyway?" There, a smooth subject change, diverting from his own plans.

And he received a small shrug in return, eyes giving nothing to work with. "I thought you'd be here, even though he's out with Allison." Even with his guarded eyes, his posture stated clearly that he didn't like the idea of Scott being out with the hunter, but it was a subject for another time, another day, another moment. "When I couldn't find you, I thought-"

Cutting him off, Stiles almost laughed. "That I was on a date?" It was ridiculous to think of, but the nod was affirmation that Derek had thought exactly that. The teen had never pinpointed him to be the smartest, but he had thought he would be intelligent enough to know that wasn't a possibility. "The sourwolf I was going to ask to go out wasn't home."

Eyes widened, guard slipping if only for a moment before a smile pulled at his lips, more of a smile than he flashed when he needed to woo some girl, but just enough so that it didn't get on the verge of creepy. (After all, creepy werewolf alpha who smiled probably wasn't the safest thing.)

Without a word, the older man walked over to the Jeep, hopping into the passenger side as easy as he transformed, looking at Stiles pointedly. Taking the hint with ease, he leapt into his seat - accidentally honking the horn - and then pulled out.

The night that followed was an odd mixture of both of their ideas and plans, filled with spontaneity and just the right amount of good and bad looks. From the lakeside to the Stilinski household for 'movie and comic time', it was certainly a Valentine's Day neither would forget.