First off, HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Second, thank you so much for the reviews, alerts, and favs last chapter. You guys are awesome.
Third, fair warning, something may happen between Derek and Stiles in the next few chapters. But I'm not sure what exactly. I just thought I'd warn you.
And fourth, thanks for reading, I do not own Derek or Stiles, and leave me a comment if you can.
See ya!
P.S. Would you guys mind if I changed the POV to Derek's once in a while? You know, if I warned you ahead of time?
For the next few days, Derek and I would meet in that dingy little coffee shop (and sometimes we'd even hang out outside the coffee shop, too). We'd talk about nothing and everything, and a few times I'd even made him laugh (score three for Stilinski) so by the time Saturday rolled around I had finally succeeded in my plan. We were finally friends. The best part, Derek actually admitted we were friends.
Saturday night, I was lying horizontally across my bed, reading a book for English. It was some boring autobiography and I kept losing my focus, my eyes lingering to the window. My mind wandered to earlier that day, at the coffee shop, when I tripped over my feet getting up to go to the bathroom, spilling my coffee and scone onto the floor. It would have been completely mortifying, had Derek not laughed so hard that coffee came out his nose. That made up for it.
I returned my focus to the book, turning the page. I didn't even know who I was reading about, and I was about to just toss the book away and get some major video game time in, when my phone chimed from my pocket, startling me.
I closed my book, set it aside, and dug my phone from my pocket. I checked the screen, a small smile crossing my lips as I read the name. I opened the text message:
It wasn't Stone Temple Pilots. It was Candlebox. I was right, Derek had written and I could almost see the triumphant smile on his face.
Well, it sounded like STP, I wrote back.
He sent me back: You're just awful with music. Maybe you should stop listening to that Hip-hop crap you like so much.
Crap? Hip-hop isn't crap. You just don't understand great music.
Yes, because listening to someone talk about a female shaking her ass or having 'sexy' time is great music.
I snorted, shaking my head, and wrote back: Oh please, your music preferences aren't any better. I've seen the playlist on your MP3 player. Nickelback anyone?
Hey, we agreed never to speak of that.
I laughed, recalling Wednesday, when I found his MP3 player still hooked up to the little radio he kept at the train depot. Curiosity had gotten the better of me, and I scrolled through the bands he had on it. I was about halfway through when he caught me, but it was too late for me to un-see what I saw. Derek Hale, big, bad Alpha, liked Nickelback. And yes, I gave him crap for it.
So, what are you doing, I typed. I figured he was probably sitting in his car, most likely stalking one of his betas, trying to be inconspicuous. He was good, don't get me wrong, but I usually could spot him fairly easily. It probably didn't help that I was the only one really looking for him.
Walking, he wrote back.
Who are you stalking tonight? I had meant it to be a joke, but I knew he wouldn't find it nearly as funny as I did. I waited for him to respond, to berate me for being a pain in the ass, but a response never came. For a split second, I actually thought he was mad at me, and I began typing out an apology, but I stopped halfway through when I heard a soft tapping at my window.
I sat up, my eyes resting on a familiar face. I narrowed my eyes slightly, tossed my phone to the side, and scrambled up to let him in. "So, you're stalking me now?"
"Not stalking. Merely visiting," Derek retorted sarcastically, clambering into my room through the window.
"And where is your pack?" I asked curiously, crossing my arms.
"Erica and Boyd are spending the night at their parents' places, Isaac is with…" he trailed off, an uncomfortable look crossing his face.
"Scott," I responded for him, nodding. I had already known that little tidbit and I chose not to dwell on it any longer than I had to.
"And Jackson is spending the night with Lydia."
"And you were lonely," I teased and he glared. "You were, weren't you?" I grinned when his scowl deepened. He turned towards the window, but I grabbed his arm and said, "I'm just messing with you, Derek. Don't be such a Sourwolf.
"Look," I continued, letting his arm go, gesturing around my room, "I wasn't doing anything important. We could watch a movie or something."
"What about that?" he pointed at the book I had been reading.
"It's a bullshit project for English. I can fake it," I replied flicking the book off my bed. "Come on bestie," he glared at that but I ignored him, "let's watch a movie."
He sighed but asked, "What movie?"
"Something that doesn't involve ghosts or werewolves or vampires or Kanimas or anything remotely supernatural," I stated ticking each creature off on my fingers.
"So, what does that leave?" Derek gave me a questioning look.
"Oh, I know the perfect movie," I said with a smile.
TW
"I can't believe you've never seen this movie," I said as I carried a bowl of popcorn and two sodas into the living room. Derek followed me, holding a pizza box.
"I don't spend a lot of time watching movies," he replied placing the pizza on my coffee table. I set the popcorn and sodas next to the box and we both settled on the floor, our shoulders barely touching, our backs against the couch.
"But it came out in 2001," I exclaimed exasperated.
"I like books okay," he retorted opening the pizza box.
"Nerd," I muttered and he lightly punched me. "You do know you are a freaking werewolf, right? Even your light punches hurt," I stated rubbing my shoulder. And it did, but I knew if he hit me harder I'd have been lucky to keep my arm, so I didn't complain too much about it.
"What is this movie about?" he asked, opting to ignore my comment.
"Watch it and see," I replied evasively, grabbing the remote off the coffee table. I hit play on the paused movie, grabbed a slice of pizza, and brought my knees up to my chest as I began watching the television.
TW
Derek was quiet throughout the film, his eyes glued to the screen. A few times his eyebrows furrowed, and I was certain he was going to ask me a question, but I figured he was saving his questions until the end of the movie.
Sure enough, the moment it ended, he turned to me and asked, "Okay, how did those thugs not hear Bruiser talking to Danny? And how exactly did they get the money out of the vault?"
"Those, my wolfie friend, are just a few of the mysteries of The Ocean's movies," I replied with a grin. "Besides, do you know how many continuity errors are in that movie? And factual errors? Plus, if you really pay attention, you can kinda see the crew members in a few of the scenes. This entire movie was one, big ass mistake, but it was good enough to stem two sequels out of it."
"Wait, there are two more of these movies?" Derek asked in an incredulous voice.
"Yep," I answered, popping my 'p,' nodding my head. "Now, we could either watch the other two or I can bust out my Doctor Who DVDs.
"Who?" Derek raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, come on, you cannot tell me you have never seen Doctor Who."
"I don't exactly watch a lot of television," he replied softly, taking a drink of his soda.
"Oh, we are totally watching Doctor Who," I exclaimed and sprang to my feet. "But we can only watch the Tennant seasons because he's the only Doctor I like and those are the only DVDs I have. I've heard good things about Smith, but I haven't exactly sat down and watched the newer seasons yet, and Eccleston wasn't The Doctor long enough for me to form an opinion. And I wasn't exactly alive to see the rest of The Doctors, but I have heard good things about Tom Baker…"
"Stiles," Derek said, cutting me off, looking up at me with an amused look on his face. "Just go get the damn movies."
"I can do that," I stated and rushed out of the room. It wasn't every day that I met a Doctor Who virgin. As I searched for my movies, I wondered just how many other things I could expose Derek to tonight.
TW
We were halfway through the Donna Noble episodes when Derek fell asleep, slumped against me, his breath warm against my neck. I thought it'd be uncomfortable, having the hulking Sourwolf sleeping against me, but I actually didn't mind. It was kinda nice actually.
Being careful not to move too much, I finished watching the episode we were currently on, but right before the next episode could start, I closed my eyes. The next thing I knew, I was being shaken awake, my dad's voice saying, "Hey, kiddo, would't you be more comfortable upstairs?"
I stirred awake, very much aware of the lack of weight against me. Sometime, between me falling asleep and my father returning home, Derek had awoken and headed out. Though, he did clean up the pizza box, the soda cans, and the popcorn bowl. I must have been really out of it to miss that.
"What time is it?" I asked stretching, making a face. It felt like I had cotton in my mouth. That is what I got for not brushing my teeth before falling asleep.
"Almost five," my dad replied helping me to my feet. "Have you been down here all night?"
"Yeah," I responded rubbing sleep from my eyes. "I was just watching Doctor Who."
"Martha Jones?" my dad asked curiously, helping me towards the stairs.
"Nah, Donna Noble," I murmured stumbling over my feet as I walked up the steps.
"You always did have a thing for the red heads," my father stated absentmindedly, and I heard a chuckle in his voice.
"I don't know Dad," I stated as we stepped over my room's threshold. I fell onto my bed, half asleep, and muttered, "I don't mind dark hair all that much."
"Good night, Stiles."
"Night dad," I whispered turning to face my window, catching a glimpse of a pair of red eyes. They blinked once and were gone, but I couldn't help falling asleep with a smile on my face.