Hello! I am happy to see from the reviews that this is getting a following! I'm actually going to try and wrap this up in a few days because I just started working on an alt/universe modern Persephone and Hades story that it going to be very time consuming. If you guys want to check that one out it will the first chapter is up and there is more on the way!

Read. Rate. Review. Be jolly and enjoy a solitary cup of black coffee!

"Stiles." Came a distressed groan from the living room.

Stiles looked up and saw three boys and no pizza. Scott looked mortified, Isaac was blushing, and Derek looked a tad bit amused. Stiles dropped the knife and cursed. "Not the pizza then," he said awkwardly. "Um... make yourselves at home. Scott can give you the tour or you can game or watch a movie or whatever. I'm almost done in here." He gave Scott an apologetic shrug.

Scott glared at him before leading the guests into the living room. Stiles grumbled to himself while he chopped things aggressively. He threw the chopped morsels into a pan to saute. He was shaking the pan and tasting a vinaigrette while mumbling about assholes not announcing who was at the door when someone cleared their throat behind him.

"Derek. Shouldn't you be babysitting?" He asked in what he hoped was a light and jovial tone.

"Tension." He said with a shrug.

"Ah. So, what do you think the chances of us walking in on them kissing are?"

"Slim to none. Isaac isn't very good with social situations. I doubt he'll do much talking at all."

"Scott will probably take care of that. How did the introduction go?"

"As well as expected. They nodded at each other and mumbled hello."

Stiles handed Derek a spoon and went to peak at the boys. Scott was standing awkwardly with a hand on his arm and looking at the floor. Isaac was biting his lip and looking up at Scott from his spot on the couch. Stiles would have cooed at them if it weren't so damn pathetic. Neither one of them were going to do anything. It was pretty apparent to him that it would be his responsibility to get them together.

"They're hopeless." Stiles removed his apron and flung it back, not noticing that it had landed on Derek's head. He walked into the living room and threw his arm around Scott's neck.

"Why don't I get you guys something to drink. Isaac, what can I get for you?"

"Whatever is fine," was his quiet reply.

Stiles left and came back in a hurry. He accidentally tripped while handing Isaac a glass of iced tea. The sticky liquid soaked the blonds shirt and pants. Stiles made a big show of apologizing and trying to dab at the shirt. Scott gave him a speaking glare of disbelief. Stiles raised an eyebrow as though he didn't understand.

"Scott, will you take Isaac upstairs. You can borrow something of mine. I'm going to clean up down here." He said rapidly shooing the boys upstairs.

When Stiles came back into the kitchen to get a wet cloth he was grinning like an idiot. Derek was looking at him with amused disapproval. Stiles tried not to look so cheeky but really, how could he not be impressed with himself? He just ever so pleased with himself and mister lemon sour in the corner wasn't going to ruin this for him!

"Smooth and very discreet."

Stiles wanted to punch him in the chest. Did he have to be so sardonic? "It didn't have to be. they needed alone time and if one of them is shirtless, then that is even better." Stiles opened a drawer and retrieved a rag before wetting it. "Scott is likely to burst if he sees your brother shirtless." He went to the couch and began to scrub off the sticky substance. He was grateful Isaac had managed to absorb most of the liquid.

"What makes you think that?"

"The way you're built. It's rather unlikely that Isaac isn't similarly fit; even if you aren't related by blood. I doubt you'd let him slack. You're definitely the bossy, I-control-all type. And of course Isaac looks up to you which means that he wants to do what you do." Stiles rambled without remembering to filter his thoughts.

"You seem to have a pretty good idea about me."

Stiles hesitated. He could deny it but really, at this point it was pointless. "I like watching people." He hoped to sound dismissive.

The room was quiet. The air grew dense and Stiles turned around to see Derek staring at him strangely. He would have asked if he had something on his face but Derek stepped into his space before he could speak. Stiles was faced with the hard plane of his chest. Stiles was ashamed to admit that he liked the way the older male smelled.

"And you've been watching me." It wasn't a question.

"Well, you are a people." He didn't dare look up at Derek. He tried to think of something else to say. "Only the last days." It didn't make a lot of sense and it was a bad lie.

Stiles had been watching him since he had transferred in 3 months ago. He would never admit it. Oh no, he would take it to his grave. Derek didn't need to know that Stiles could tell the difference between his 12v black t-shirts or that he knew Derek would always finish lunch with an apple and he definitely didn't need to know that he was currently wearing Stiles' favorite jeans, the ones that cupped his butt in unmentionable ways.

"It's kind of hard not to, ya know? Scott is constantly pointing out things Isaac does and you're right there." Stiles knew he was blushing but he really thought it was a good excuse. Actually, that was how it all started. His fingers twitched with the desire to grab the black t-shirt in front of him, number 9.

Derek didn't speak or move. Stiles heard himself swallow harshly. His breathing was quicker than he would like. His hand moved slightly and his fingers brushed against the rough denim of Derek's jeans. His breath hitched without his permission. Just jeans, he reminded himself, just jeans. He looked up at Derek. There was dark satisfaction in his eyes. Stiles couldn't even name the complex color of the orbs he was staring into; they were gray and blue and green with rays of cinnamon around the pupil. He'd never been close enough to see all the colors and he wished he wasn't now because he was pretty sure he had forgotten how to breathe.

Stiles couldn't fathom how this man had managed to turn him into a quiet, nervous wreck. He was never this quiet or awkward. Stiles was proud to say that he was the life of the party, a good time guy. He always had something to say even if it was completely ridiculous. It must be the tension in the room; it was overbearing and made his tongue dry.

"You're blushing."

"I am not!" He shouted and turned his head away but he could feel his ears burning. He was glad he wasn't looking into his eyes anymore.

" You can deny it if you like." Derek's voice was low and his breathe was surprisingly cool against his face.

Stiles forgot to speak. His mind was suddenly filled with every fantasy he had ever had. He imagined Derek taking control of the situation and carrying them upstairs and ravishing him. He imagined waking up next to a sleepy Hale with his mouth parted slightly. He imagined still feeling the lingering pressure of his lips, his fingers, his... unmentionables.

His mouth fell open and a squeaky gasp escaped his throat. He looked into Derek's eyes in hopes of seeming unaffected and mumbled an excuse to escape his proximity. He raced up the stairs and into his room in an attempt to gather his wits. He regretted his decision almost immediately. He would have rather stayed in the living room with Derek and the weird tension that made his throat tight.

Find out what Stiles saw in the next chapter! Sorry for the delay. I have the next few chapters written. I just need to type them up! Thanks for your patience. Tell me what you think so far.