Phase three was all about making the red hoodie unavailable. Stiles had thought about this portion of his experiment the most. After the culmination of his data thus far, he was fairly certain that Derek, did in fact, have a sick fascination with seeing Stiles in his red hoodie.
How ironic.
However, Stiles made it a point to hide said red hoodie. It lays under his bed, behind old shoes and lacrosse gear. Meanwhile, Stiles had taken out all the various other hoodies he owns and thrown them haphazardly around his room. Blue, green, purple, black and white. Why does Stiles own so many hoodies? He's not quite sure, it just seems to have worked out that way.
Thankfully, Derek is at his house again, something that seems to be happening a lot more lately. Stiles isn't sure how he feels about having the object of his affection and sexual desires in such close proximity. Stiles also wonders why Derek doesn't hang out with his pack. And now he's wondering what the pack does when Derek isn't around. Do they whine and howl at the door like sad little puppies? That would be really horrible and gross if it wasn't so fucking cute.
Stiles is now considering therapy. Thinking about werewolves doing cute puppies things is inaccurate and probably unhealthy.
"Stiles! Are you even listening to me?" Derek's voice is sorta angry, but that isn't really a surprise. Besides, Stiles is apparently into the whole 'angry-broody-alpha' thing. Who'd have thought?
"Huh? What? I mean, yeah dude, totes. Random wild Werewolf. Dangerous. Stay away. You're a squishy human" Stiles responds. He's chewing on the back of his pen; his attention on the papers in front of him. He's been tracking the various animal attacks and sightings for the past couple days. Literally the day after they took out the Spectre, a Rogue Werewolf wandered into Beacon Hills. Probably because the universe hates Stiles and never lets him catch a break.
It's been two days since the first attack. An elderly couple on a relatively private trail were completely eviscerated. Poor old peeps.
Stiles looks up from his papers and over to Derek who is doing the eyebrow thing which probably means to demean Stiles, but Stiles is totally resistant. He narrows his eyes.
"Now, if you're done trying to convince me that I'm a liability, we should head out 'cause I'm pretty sure I know where this dude is hiding."
Derek looks at Stiles' papers with renewed interest. Maps and notes and printed information from some odd websites. Derek is looking impressed and that is making Stiles feel super awesome.
When Derek looks back to Stiles, he's wearing his blank expression. Stiles thinks he should be on his knees praising the ground Stiles walks on because Stiles is super good at this and obviously the pack would be nothing without him.
Or he could just stand there and stare daggers into Stiles. Whatever.
"How about you tell me where it is and you stay here. I don't need you getting in my way" is what Derek finally says.
Stiles scoffs, clearly in mock offense. If Derek thinks he's just gonna leave him and Stiles is gonna be okay with that, Derek is more dumb than he thought.
"Yeah right, Cujo. You're funny if you think I'm just gonna sit here and twiddle my thumbs like a dumbass. I'm going with you" he retorts, getting up to grab his keys and walking towards the door. He faintly hears a growl, most likely because he's being insubordinate and not following Alpha rules or something. He could care less. Stiles, despite what the other werewolves thought, isn't a weak imbecile. He can hold his own, even if half the time he's improvising.
Derek eventually starts to trudge after him. It's dark out and Stiles is thankful that his dad has been busy with all the influx of attacks or else sneaking around would probably be more difficult. He gets to his jeep before Derek grabs him by the arm.
"Hey, what the—"
"We're taking my car. I don't like driving in that sorry excuse for a vehicle" Derek supplies. He's eyeing Stiles' jeep like its personally offended him. Stiles yanks his arm out of Derek's hold, something that shouldn't have been possible with the werewolf strength and all.
"Uh, that's my baby, man. Don't diss her, if anything, your car is a crash waiting to happen. My jeep is everything perfect and beautiful in this world and you're just jealous" Stiles says as he walks to Derek's camaro. Because secretly Stiles is in love with Derek's car. It's sexy and badass and maybe Stiles has thought about Derek bending him over the hood and having his way with him. Actually, that was a recurring fantasy he visited during 'private time'.
Derek is watching him with an inquisitive eye, eventually making his way to the driver's side. Stiles stops for a moment and clutches his arms, stroking them slowly.
"Wow, it keeps getting colder and colder. Maybe I should grab my hoodie? We're gonna be outside most of the night, probably…" he trails off. Derek stills his hand where it began to reach for the car door and automatically starts to make his way to Stiles' house. Stiles can't help the smirk as he watches Derek scale the side of his house and jump through his window. Then his face contorts and his heart begins to pound in his chest. What if Derek came out with the red hoodie? All of Stiles' hypothetical analysis would be spot on. That means he really actually likes seeing Stiles in it. What does that mean? That Derek has a preference for what Stiles wears? That he wants to see Stiles wearing it?
His thought process is shattered when Derek jumps down with the red hoodie. The red hoodie. The one Stiles hid. Under his bed. After washing it to clear the scent. This…this all but confirms it. Derek has the most ironic sense of humor, or he wants to see Stiles wearing it.
Derek holds out for Stiles who slowly reaches for it, his heart still thrashing against his ribs. Derek looks at him oddly, in a way that Stiles is unsure of how to catalogue. Worried? Concerned? He can probably hear Stiles' heart and is wondering why it's so ridiculously fast. He swallows hard and nods. "Thanks" is all he can say.
Stiles puts on his hoodie and gets into the car.