Derek, Stiles and everything else
Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows
A couple of days later.
Absentmindedly, Stiles turned off the radio and tried to focus on his homework. After a few minutes, he caught himself staring out of the window, mumbling 'it's not made for talking' under his breath. So, he was officially obsessing about this. Awesome.
It's not made for talking. Meaning: his mouth. It was just an obscure thing Derek had said that probably didn't mean anything. The problem was the vagueness of it. Derek's insults – if that's what it was meant to be – were usually very clear. Ditto Derek's threats. So, why the weird ambiguous comment? Stiles chewed on the drawing string of his hoodie for a while.
It's not made for talking. Well, what else were mouths for? Breathing. Stiles felt confident that Derek hadn't meant that. Ten to one his breathing - like everything else about him - annoyed Derek. Eating? He did sort of have to stop talking when he was eating: Derek would definitely consider that a plus. But Scott was wrong. If Derek had meant shut up then he would have said shut up. Or glared at him pointedly. That rarely worked, but Derek – bless his little werewolf heart – kept trying anyway.
Stiles took the string out of his mouth to look at it. It was nasty. Gross, he thought, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Maybe my mouth is made for chewing drawing strings, he speculated. Because that was something Derek would say, right? No, it really wasn't. Stiles sighed.
'Not made for talking, not made for talking,' he mused, clicking his teeth. Still no closer to an epiphany. What do people do with their mouths? Stiles swirled his chair around. Noticed Derek. Fell out of his chair.
'Can you stop acting like a clown for a second?' Derek barked. I'm not acting, Stiles thought, but he succeeded in keeping that unspoken. Wonderful. Because that would have sounded borderline retarded.
'There's this thing called knocking. You should try it sometime,' Stiles suggested while getting to his feet. He knew that Derek didn't appreciate back talk, but this was a vast improvement on the first response that had popped into his mind. Progress! Derek ignored him and carefully closed the door.
'Can we talk? Without the typical wise ass remarks?'
'Okay,' Stiles said, hesitantly. Derek started to pace.
'The other day, I thought...'
'That I think you have a pretty mouth? Yeah, I can see how you would have gotten that impression,' Stiles interrupted. He shrugged – like, whatcha gonna do? – and drummed his fingers on the desk. Momentarily at a loss for words, Derek almost sat down on the bed, before he appeared to realise on whose bed he would be sitting and what kind of message that would send. Immediately, he resumed pacing. For Stiles - used to being the most awkward person in the room at all times – the sensation of seeing someone be so incredibly uneasy in his own skin was a new one.
'It's alright to be attracted to guys,' Derek assured him. There was a tiny, bemused silence and then Stiles laughed in Derek's face. It was one of those things that you maybe shouldn't do if you valued your life, but oh, this was fantastic.
'You think that I'm... No, you've got it all wrong, buddy. I'm not experiencing gay angst. Please. This is not any old angst. This is very specific angst. Derek Hale angst.'
Derek stopped pacing. Goodness, what big eyes you have, Stiles thought. And hands. And mouth. And, focus.
Honestly, Stiles wasn't experiencing any angst at all, but Derek seemed to think he was. And Stiles was nothing if not cooperative. Nonetheless, he felt a little guilty. Derek was trying to do something nice. A rare occurrence. The poor guy was clearly uncomfortable and yet he'd taken the trouble to make sure that Stiles wasn't struggling with his sexuality.
'By the way, if my mouth is not for talking, then what is it for? I've been thinking about this. Breathing? Eating? Were you calling me fat? If so, very subtly done. God forbid; singing? Biting? I guess that kind of falls under eating, unless...'
'Kissing, dumbass.'
The short outburst was delivered in the usual 'shut up, Stiles' way and Derek continued to furiously pace some more. Still, Stiles smirked.
'You're flirting? That's what this is? Whoa. And I thought that I was pathetic. So, you wanna date me or something?'
'I don't date.'
'I can see why.'
Opening one of the drawers of his desk, Stiles rummaged through its contents. He unearthed a lollipop, unwrapped it and stuck it into his mouth.
'Don't provoke me, Stiles,' Derek ordered. Stiles raised an eyebrow and sucked extra loudly to egg Derek on. Plainly with a lot of effort, Derek restrained himself. This was normally a good thing. Now, however, Stiles kind of wanted to see what would happen if he pushed Derek too far.
'This is a bad idea,' Derek warned. Unfazed, Stiles took the lollipop out of his mouth, making a popping sound with his lips. He grinned.
'Never stopped me before,' Stiles said. And then, out of left field...
'I can't love you,' Derek stated. Stiles' face went slack. He was dumbfounded. Speechless. Love? Love?
'You don't love me?' Derek asked. Regaining feeling in his face and control over his tongue, Stiles fumbled around trying to formulate a response. The echo of Derek's wounded tone of voice kept tripping him up. It was so unlike Derek.
'What? I, uh... Derek, man, that's really flattering that you'd... I mean, you know... Thanks. That's...'
'Never mind,' Derek sighed, putting a stop to Stiles' verbal avalanche. 'Good talk.'
Derek left, leaving Stiles with something else to obsess about.
