Derek - 3, Stiles - 3
"You'd think with the amount that you cost, we wouldn't be stuck in this situation."
"If I'm spending this amount then I expect more dedication and better results."
It was nice to hear Olive's scathing tone directed at someone else for once. Beside him Eri was sniggering into her cornflakes, trying not to interrupt the woman as she ranted at the hairdresser that had cancelled on her last minute.
"Do you mind if I give today a miss?" Eri asked softly, rubbing her head sleepily. He reached up when she blinked in confusion, her engagement ring caught in her hair. "I have a dress fitting this afternoon anyway and then we were going to drive up to Isaac's house. He hasn't seen his parents in four months."
"It's fine. I've got four appointments with florists. You won't have to meet them until you need to actually pick which flowers you want." He replied, stepping back once he'd freed her hand and handing her a slip of paper. "That's my email address. If you can't get me by phone just send an email and I'll get it as soon as I log on."
"Cool. See you on Monday morning."
He gave her a nod, waved to Olive, who smiled at him and nodded without missing a single beat of her angry rant. Since he'd managed to find them a new venue she'd been much nicer to him, even going to far as to offer him tea when he arrived and Eri was still in bed.
On his way out he collided with someone just about to knock on the door.
"Hey kitty."
He groaned, quickly sidestepping but Derek caught his arm and pulled him back, trapping him in front of the door with a grin.
"That's not very nice." Derek scolded, shaking his head in mock disappointment and Stiles frowned up at him.
"Why are you here?"
"I came to offer you my services for the day."
"I don't need them."
"I think you do." Derek countered, grinning at him, too strong for Stiles to shove aside. "So I'm going to help you today."
"Wonderful. I hope you like flowers." Stiles ground out in defeat and Derek's grin dropped. "We've got four florists to visit today and that's all before lunch."
"You're joking."
"Nope. Still want to help me?" He was silently praying that he changed his mind but he knew deep down that it was too much to hope for. Marcus was the only person who could say no to Derek and actually win the fight.
"Of course." Derek was very convincing and Stiles couldn't help grinning as he stepped past him and started walking towards his car. Derek's smug expression was going to vanish soon enough.
"Where's your car?"
"Don't have one with me." Derek smirked at him again and gestured to Stiles's car. "So I have to go with you in that thing."
There was no way the day could get any worse really. He clenched his fists but didn't comment, it would have been too much hassle to deal with really. He even managed to ignore Derek's expression once they were inside the car and he saw how cluttered it was.
"Stiles, you're a slob." Derek announced once he'd dumped the seven empty water bottles and the carrier bag of sandwich wrappers on the back seat. "How can you stand this?"
"You get used to it." Stiles muttered, suddenly embarrassed. "It's not so bad."
"You can't see the floor!"
"Oh shut up."
"Why? Am I bothering you?"
He scowled, deciding not to bother replying and turned the key in the ignition. Before Derek could gloat or rub salt in the wound he flicked the CD player on and turned the volume up, enjoying the restrained expression on Derek's face as ABBA started to play loudly.
Derek – 1, Stiles – 1.
Maybe the day wouldn't be quite so bad after all.
The first florist was plump middle aged woman with a really scary flowery cardigan and the lowest cut top he'd seen in a long time. She took one look at Derek and she was all over him. Stiles felt like a spare wheel as he hovered, watching as Derek was given a drink, a slice of cake and even offered a chair.
"Are you here to buy your girlfriend some flowers?" She asked as she placed her hand over his for the third time and Stiles bit his lip when Derek shot him a dirty look. "A man like you can't be single."
"Uh."
"So good looking. If I was a little younger…"
It was brilliant. Stiles smothered his snigger at the complete helplessness when she tried to give him a heated look. He was ready to run away but there was no way Stiles was going to let the fun end so soon.
"He's the one that wants the flowers." Derek managed to blurt out, flicking a hand in Stiles's direction and the woman barely spared him a glance.
"Oh?"
"Yes." Stiles nodded, still trying not to laugh as she fussed over Derek. "For my wedding. Derek doesn't have a girlfriend."
Her face lit up. Derek almost leapt out of the chair to strangle him but Stiles darted off under the pretence of trying to find something for 'his' wedding. He made a quick note of what they had there before returning, clamping a hand over his mouth when he saw that she was leaning in to Derek, talking quietly. His brother's best friend was gripping the arms of the chair so tightly his knuckles had turned white.
"You can help Stiles can't you?" Derek asked wearily, eyes darting to the door when the old lady looked over at the wedding planner. "He needs some price quotes."
"When is the event dear?"
"Well that's the thing. We had some problems and we need the entire flower order by the sixth of September."
"How big is the wedding?"
"Roughly a thousand guests…"
As soon as the words left his mouth she lost all pretence of niceness and told him he had no chance. It gave Derek his opportunity to make his escape and Stiles followed after him as quickly as possible after she'd finished lecturing him on wasting her time.
"I can't believe you just left me with her!"
He couldn't help it. He laughed so hard he was nearly crying and Derek really didn't appreciate the lack of sympathy he received.
Derek – 1, Stiles – 2.
Not bad at all.
The second shop was an even bigger waste of time. The woman didn't do large orders and she didn't like to do weddings. Derek had refused to go in and Stiles was only in there for ten minutes, just long enough for her to apologetically refuse and offer him a free bunch of flowers. Derek gave him a questioning look and Stiles shrugged.
"I'll give them to Eri."
"I thought you were gay."
"I am, doesn't mean I like pink roses though."
"So why give them to Eri?"
"Because I don't want them."
"I have a better idea." Derek grabbed them and wound down the window, tossing them out onto the pavement as they drove along the dual carriageway.
"Are you done being childish now?"
"Yes."
The third shop was closed with no notice explaining why. Stiles looked through the windows, caught one look at the flowers that they were offering and ruled them out. Most of them were either dying, drooping, or fake.
"You picked some really awful flower shops." Derek commented idly, slouching in his chair. The map book was spread out in front of him but he wasn't helping Stiles find the last place at all.
"These were the only four that I could find that Olive hadn't already pissed off actually." Stiles retorted distractedly, squinting when he tried to read the road signs. "I think I missed the turning."
"Next left."
"This is the third time we've driven down this road and you're telling me that now?"
"Payback's a bitch."
"You're a bitch." Stiles snapped, making the turn far too fast.
"Just to let you know, we've driven past the next place five times too. I just didn't tell you."
Derek – 2, Stiles – 2.
When they finally arrived, at which point Stiles was fed up with Derek being there, the owner greeted them with a bright grin. He was good looking and Stiles flushed when the man looped an arm around him and guided him toward the counter and the catalogues he had waiting.
"So what do you need these flowers for?" The manager of the pretty little florist had the most perfect brown eyes Stiles had ever seen and his mouth went dry when he was supposed to reply. It didn't help that the man's hand had started drifting down his back.
Unfortunately that gave Derek his opportunity.
"Our wedding."
Stiles almost choked but the second he'd said it the man's arm retracted and he gave Stiles a once over, disappointment on his face.
"Pity." He looked at Derek. "You're a lucky man."
Derek – 3, Stiles – 2.
He also refused them. He had a waiting list and September was just too busy for him to take on such a big project. He did attempt to give Stiles his number but Derek intercepted that and led Stiles out with a possessive arm wrapped around his shoulders.
"I hate you."
"No you don't."
"Yes actually, I do."
"No, you really don't." Derek was grinning as Stiles slammed a hand on the steering wheel. "And that's why you're mad. Not because I've upset you, but because you can't be mad at me."
"Get over yourself."
"You should know it's not that easy to get over me."
"I swear I'm going to stab you in the leg with my pen if you don't back off." The threat did nothing to make Derek apologise or back off, instead the man just flashed that annoying smile at him and tapped his nose.
"Do you want me to buy you a scratching post?"
He didn't stab him in the leg.
He gave him a dead leg instead.
Derek - 3, Stiles - 3.
It was starting to get dark when he finally managed to get rid of Derek, probably some time past ten at night but he didn't know for sure because the clock in his car had stopped working the previous winter when he accidentally left a window open and the frost got inside.
He was still scolding himself about that when the engine made an odd whining sound and started letting off smoke.
"No!" Stiles just about managed to get the car onto the hard shoulder before it stopped altogether and he thumped his head on the steering wheel in frustration.
Forty minutes drive from him, roughly twenty miles, and he had no break down cover because he'd forgotten to contact the company and pay for the next year. That meant no one would rescue him and he couldn't walk all that way at night. Hell, he'd never walked that far in his life.
With a reluctant sigh he located his phone and dialled Jackson's number. He didn't really have anyone else to turn to and that little fact stung. Friends were just something he'd never really been able to keep.
"What?" Jackson was, yet again, not happy to receive a call from him.
"Uhm, are you busy?" He didn't like how timid he sounded.
"Yes."
He heard someone talking in the background but he didn't recognise the voice and bit his lip. Jackson did a lot of work in meeting clients and taking them out for meals to arrange contracts.
"What do you want?"
"My car broke down."
"So?" That one word hurt more than being stood up the night before. The voice in the background grew louder and he heard Jackson let out a frustrated sigh. "Just walk home. Get someone to drive you to your car tomorrow."
And he hung up.
Who exactly were you supposed to turn to when your boyfriend let you down?
The only other number in his phone that wasn't a client or a company they used at work was Marcus and his mum. His mum couldn't drive, and wouldn't help him anyway, which left Marcus.
"Are you okay?" Marcus was concerned, probably because usually called Marcus when he was in trouble, the most memorable was years before when a boyfriend had given him a split lip and kicked him out without any of his money.
"My car broke down." He admitted sheepishly, fascinated by the breath of relief he heard from Marcus. "Do you think you can come and get me?"
"Where are you?"
"About twenty miles out of the city. I just dropped Derek home."
"I'm at Derek's, I'll be there in a few minutes."
He arrived in record time and rolled his eyes when he saw that Stiles was hovering next to the car. He'd made a few comments on how useless his car was in the past and the smug look was just as bad as an 'I told you so.'
"Have you called the AA?"
"Don't have breakdown cover."
"Why not?"
"Because I forgot to renew it this year. I didn't think I'd need it."
"Get in my car. I'll call a friend."
Marcus didn't take him home, he took him straight to his own house in one of the nicer streets, and Stiles was thankful for the heating and the warm water. His own hot water could be quite elusive. Marcus gave him a pair of his own pyjamas, a pair he'd forgotten even existed, and left him in the spare room. He was probably annoying his brother, he kept apologising and thanking him too much. In the end Marcus probably just went to bed to get away from him.