Title: A Certain Kind of Chemistry
Summary: Stiles is doing his homework, and definitely not planning to run away.
Rating: K+ (Boys kissing!)
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Couple: Sterek [Pre-established]
A Certain Kind of Chemistry
Stiles was done. Well and thoroughly done. He was dropping out of High School moving to Canada and changing his name to Tobias. Upon refining these plans he discovered that he was actually talking out loud.
"Tobias?"
Stiles jumps, causing several papers and a pen to take flight, with the writing utensil bouncing off of the surprise guests boot.
"Dammit, Derek!" He says, putting a hand over his heart to discourage its quest to leave his thoracic cavity.
"What?" Derek quirked an eyebrow, leaning down to retrieve the pen and handing it to Stiles.
"Are you trying to prove that someone can be scared to death? Is that what all the popping up is?" Stiles asks, snatching the pen and tossing it with it's family on his cluttered desk.
"I used the front door." Derek states.
"Uh.." Stiles froze, straightening his back. He took in the older male, leaning against the door frame, hands in his pockets. He swiveled to check that his window was indeed closed. And latched. He turned back to Derek, who now wore a smirk with narrowed eyes.
"Well, you could have knocked." Stiles mumbles, leaning to pick up his scattered papers.
"I did." Derek says, causing Stiles to freeze again. "Twice."
"Yes, well... we have a bell!" Stiles says, counting his papers and then looking for the straggler.
Derek sighs and hands it to him as he moves to sit in the stool by Stiles laptop.
"Would you have heard it?" Derek asks, glancing at Stiles headphones. They had actually not been in use for nearly and hour but the teen couldn't be bothered to remove them
"Probably not." Stiles admits, knocking the sheets against the arm of his desk chair to straighten them into a neat pile.
"What are you doing?" Derek asks. He was trying to be more involved with his pack members, especially his overactive mate.
"Homework." Stiles says, flipping through his textbook aimlessly.
"I gathered." Derek says dryly.
"Biology." Stiles clarifies, "and it's stupidly... stupid. So I'm quitting and moving to China."
"Canada." Derek corrects.
"Canada!" Stiles says, flailing his arms.
"And changing your name to Tobias?" Derek says, smirk now playful, and an eyebrow raised.
"Yes. Tobias is a good name." Stiles says indignantly.
"I like Stiles." Derek says in a low tone, leaning in to place a kiss on the teens lips.
He drew back, "What's so hard about Biology?"
"I was not finished with that!" Stiles says, pouting. "And biology is stupid, not hard."
"Uh huh," Derek hums, pulling Stiles' assignment page into his lap.
Stiles looks at him. Taking in the six feet of dark leather and denim that, for some unknown and fantastic reason, chose him. Derek could easily get whoever he wanted, and many had offered. Smiles and waves were not uncommon to Derek though he seemed to not notice. Stiles' likes to think that, if he got that all the time, he could drown it out too. Even if it didn't stop the small pangs of insecurity that hit when Derek nodded in acknowledgement at some of them.
"You're staring." Derek mutters, not looking up from the page. Stiles had been right, this was a bit excessive for the subject matter.
"I'm gazing." Stiles says defensively.
"And you claim I'm the creepy one..." Derek says with disinterest, reaching for the work Stiles had accomplished before his arrival.
"I don't crawl through your window late at night." Stiles points out, trying to pry his papers away from Derek who swats at his hands dismissively.
"You're already half done, why are you complaining?" Derek asks, looking into honey brown eyes.
"Because," Stiles says with a the look of a petulant child, "it's respiratory. It's simple and shouldn't need two weeks of devotion. I could have done the test after a day."
"Then ask for the test." Derek says simply.
Stiles blushes.
"What?" Derek tilts his head to the left.
"I did." Stiles mumbles, fidgeting with his sweater sleeve. He got up to pace slowly.
"And?" Derek encourages, trying to catch his mates eye.
"Nothing," Stiles says, knowing full well his heartbeat is giving him away.
"What did they say Stiles?" Derek asks, eyes narrowing at the scent of discomfort emanating around Stiles.
Stiles sighed and stopped before meeting Derek's eyes.
"Harris said that if I wanted special treatment I should go to the special education program like people "like me" are supposed to."
Derek's reaction was what Stiles had expected. His fists clenched while his eyes flooded the color of his hoodie; a snarl ripping it's way up out of his chest.
"There's nothing wrong with you." Derek growls.
"I know that," Stiles says, walking slowly toward the werewolf. He put his hands on either side of Derek's face, waiting for the red to begin receding, then stooping to press their lips together. Derek stilled for a moment before relaxing into the kiss, barely pressing his tongue to Stiles' lips before backing off, taking the teens hands in his own. Stiles mourned the loss.
"Do your school work Stiles."
"I would much rather study anatomy." Stiles deadpans, picking up his pen to throw it at the snowboarder insignia gracing his wall, then collapsing into his chair.
"Well, if you finish your homework..." Derek doesn't finish, just allows his smirk to paint the image in Stiles' head.
"Not what I meant," Stiles admits, "but I'm game."
The teen leaps at his pen and begins finishing his assignment with renewed enthusiasm.
"The respiratory system does come in handy by the way," Derek comments while he lays down. Stiles turns to see the man resting with his hands under his head, an inch of skin showing between the hem of his shirt, and the strap of his belt.
"You're a torturer." Stiles grumbles, as he purposefully tries to finish as quickly as possible.
"So you keep telling me."
A/N: What are you talking about? I totally didn't spend class time writing this. O.o That would be wrong. Please review.