Disclaimer- I probably can't even say I own this idea. Do you know how many high school AUs there are?
Because I have absolutely no shame at all, I go to school the next day. With Derek. Derek Hale. Derek Hale who had been the main star of my fantasies last night. And I look him straight in the eye and talk to him. And I don't blush once.
"Stiles, why is your face so red?" Derek asks, looking amused as we walk to our next class. Thank God we got past his grumpy wolf phase.
And, okay, maybe I have been blushing. A lot.
"I'm hot," I answer quickly. Derek just nods.
"So, what are you doing after school today?" Derek asks, and yes, I know he's only asking to make small talk but I can imagine he's asking me out, okay? I'm allowed to do that.
Because, apparently now that I've let myself masturbate to a guy, I can let the gay run free.
"Lacrosse practice," I reply. "Then some homework, I guess. You?"
Derek's face falls slightly. "Nothing really. It's just I've been here for a while and I still haven't really done or seen anything in town. I was hoping you could show me. But, I can always ask Isaac or Scott or even Erica or Lydia or someone. It's fine."
"No!" I blurt out quickly, my hands flying out. "After lacrosse, I can show you." Derek grins widely.
"I thought you had homework," he reminds me with a slight teasing tone. We slow down as we reach my class.
"I can put it off for a couple of hours. If you want a tour, you're not going to half-ass it. I can almost guarantee that I know more about this town than anyone else willing to help you." And, this way, nobody else will get you in their clutches, I add mentally. Which, wow, sounds really possessive. Which is totally crazy, because I don't possess Derek. Not even close.
"Okay," Derek shrugs. "Cool. See you then." He graces me with one last smile before walking off.
"Yup! See you then! I will see you at that time. Bye, Derek," I may or may not yell down the hallway. And he may or may not chuckle but not look back. Bastard.
Jesus Christ. I really need to get over myself. I was never like this after I figured out that Lydia was better than an old Playboy. Or, that one time, with Danny. Maybe it's because I wasn't friends with them, but whatever it was, I need to do it again. Or fake it until I make it. Whatever works.
The one thing I should stop doing is making an idiot out of myself in front of Derek. Yeah, that would probably be good.
"Mr. Stilinski, do you have last night's homework?"
Oh, yeah, I should probably do my homework, too.
xXx
Greenburg is back on his feet, finally. Meaning I'm back on the bench. Meaning I get to freeze my ass off on a cold stone bench, watching other people hit a ball around. Fun.
But I have a nice afternoon ahead of me filled with sexual frustration and gay revelations, so it's not all dark gloomy clouds.
Oh, wait.
It is.
And, I stupidly told Derek that I knew everything about this town, which, in fact, it's almost the opposite. I don't give a rat's ass about this town's history. And the only places I ever really go are school, the woods, Scott's house, the library, and McDonald's. Not exactly tour material.
But, hey, Derek seems like the president of the misanthropy club, so maybe he won't want to actually go anywhere people are. Or maybe I'll have to pretend I actually know what I'm doing and pull some shit out of my ass as I go.
With my luck, we all know which one it is going to be.
"Dude, what are you doing?" Scott's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "Everyone's gone."
I look around to see an empty field and Scott's concerned brown eyes. Or, as concerned as Scott can be. He's not the most observant if you hadn't noticed.
"Oh, yeah, sorry, man. I was just thinking." I let Scott pull me up and towards the locker room.
His face transforms into a grin. "I knew I knew that face! Your 'thinking about Lydia' face." He punches me softly on the shoulder.
"Um. Yeah," I reply weakly, swallowing. "When am I not?"
Scott laughs. "Hey, you wanna hang out today? We haven't played some video games and had a bro night in a while." He smiles eagerly at me and I brighten up slightly. I don't point out that the reason we haven't hung out is because of him and his Allison obsession. I know I told Derek I would show him around, but if Scott is actually choosing me over Allison for once, maybe-
"Allison is going out with her parents tonight, so we had to cancel our date. I knew you would be free."
Ouch. My heart sinks and I barely even feel bad when I tell him, "Sorry, dude. I have plans tonight."
He scrunches his face up at me- his trademark confused puppy face. "Really? You and your dad doing something?"
Another punch to the stomach. I know he doesn't mean it like that, but, seriously. "No," I say icily. "I'm going out with Derek. He hasn't really seen the town yet and I thought I would show him."
He raises his eyebrows as we enter the locker room. "I thought you guys didn't like each other." He pauses. "Or, at least, he didn't like you."
"Yes, well, we've gotten past that. I think. I hope." Because he must like me as at least an acquaintance now, right? If he asked me to go out with him, on a perfectly platonic date? You don't willingly hang out with people you hate.
"Whatever," Scott sighs, pulling on his shirt. "I just feel like we never hang out anymore." His lower lip pushes out slightly.
I let a bitch face take over my features, but swallow back the harsh words I really want to say. Because, really, Scott? Whose fault is that? "We'll hang out soon. I promise."
"Good," he replies with a small grin. "Because, otherwise, I'll be forced to pull out the friendship necklace." I groan in response.
"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" I whine as we walk out. Scott snorts and opens his mouth to reply, before we crash into a wall of unfairly firm muscle. Déjà vu.
"Derek," I mumble into his pectorals. "Hi."
"Hi," he answers, sounding amused. "Hello, Scott." Scott just nods before hurrying off with a- hard- slap on my back.
"Ow," I mutter before looking up at Derek. "So, what's up?"
He looks bemused for a moment. "Aren't you- aren't we-?"
"Oh, right, right, sorry!" I smack my forehead. "Town, tour, facts, got it." Derek looks at me sort of warily and smiles with amusement and confusion. Smooth, Stiles. Smooth.
I look around for his car and turn to him with a confused expression.
"I, uh, ran to school today," he explains, which, actually doesn't explain a thing. Why would anybody willingly walk, let alone run, to school when they had as beautiful as car as his?
"I was wondering if we could maybe take your car?" He gestures to my much less glamorous vehicle. I shrug in agreement.
We hop in and I turn to him, starting up the car. "So, where are we headed?" He scrunches up his forehead and nose at my question, which- nope. Definitely not adorable.
"Um. I don't know. The problem kind of is that I don't know anything about this town. Including what places to go to." He shrugs his broad shoulders, looking a bit uncomfortable.
"Well, are you hungry?" I ask, because, hey, I'm always up for food.
"I could eat," he answers, shrugging again. "You're not thinking of McDonald's, are you?" He grins at me, white teeth blinding.
"There's this diner down by the police station that I used to go to when my dad was working. It makes awesome milkshakes." I cock my head and raise my eyebrows, hoping he agrees. I could always use a chocolate milkshake after sitting on a bench for an hour or so.
He stares at me for a few moments before sighing and nodding. "Fine." He looks down at his abs in a sad farewell. I scoff. I've had plenty of greasy diner food and look how it has treated me.
Actually, never mind, please don't look at that.
I pull out of the school parking lot and switch on the radio. I immediately brighten at the familiar song that fills the car.
"Back in black! I hit the sack! I've been too long, I'm glad to be back," I sing along to the radio absentmindedly, tapping my knuckles on the steering wheel. Derek shoots me an amused look, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, I'm let loose," I continue, grinning. "From the noose. That's kept me hanging about." Derek's lips twist slightly.
"I keep looking at the sky. 'Cause it's getting' me high." My shoulders start to shake to the beat. Derek rolls his eyes.
"What are you doing?" He asks, interrupting my groove. I turn to him.
"Getting my funk on," I answer easily, a tiny smile showing on my lips.
"Your funk?" Derek's eyes roll upwards once again. "Sounds gross."
I laugh, surprised by his attempt at a joke. "It's awesome. At least mine is."
The corners of his lips curl up a tiny bit, half amused and half bemused.
I stare him and he stares back. I feel trapped, caught in his green gaze.
"Oh, I'm back," I talk rather than sing, still staring at Derek.
"Yes, I'm back," Derek echoes, his eyes smiling.
"Well, I'm back," I say a little bit louder, my wide grin taking up half my face.
"Yes, I'm back," he matches my volume.
"Well, I'm back, back," we both chorus, our totally awful and discordant voices mixing together.
"I'm back in black," we yell, overpowering the volume of the radio.
I make guitar noises as he harmonizes. We have to break off when we start laughing crazily. Or, at least, I do. Derek just kind of snorts.
"Watch the road, idiot," he says which rude, because I am the best driver ever, excuse you.
Suddenly aware of the way my life is rapidly turning into a romantic comedy, I quickly switch my attention over to the road in front of us. Even with the song roaring in the background, the following silence is so awkward, it should only be reserved for post coital. All we did was join our- admittedly terrible- voices, not our bodies.
"So, how have you been liking Beacon Hills High?" I ask in a desperate attempt at small talk, then flinch at what has to be the lamest question ever.
"Uh, yeah, sure," he says, shrugging gently and I internally curse myself. But, he continues. "There are some pretty cool people here."
I can't help the grin that cracks my face in two. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"What about girls? Anybody you have your eye on?" He doesn't answer for a second and I run over what I said, trying to find if I accidentally said something awkward or triggering. "Or boys! I mean, I don't know who or what you like. I don't judge. Unless, it's, like, furries or something, which, oh hey, you're half wolf, so I guess you get an excuse. If you need one. I'm not assuming you're into bestiality. Or, if you do, that you need an excuse. Like, wow, have fun with whoever, whatever, you like, you know?"
Contrary to popular belief, I am not always babbling. I don't just run my mouth all the time. No. Only when I'm nervous. When I'm nervous or embarrassed or trying to think up a lie, I just talk until I can figure out something to say. Which sounds really ridiculous, but if you say whatever immediately comes to mind, it distracts people long enough for you to actually come up with something relatively intelligent. Or coherent.
Anyway, I guess I'm nervous or embarrassed or projecting or maybe all three, because I just say anything and everything until I finally cut myself off. Derek is just looking at me with another amused/bemused expression.
"I don't feel any kind of sexual attraction to animals, Stiles," is what he finally says. I let out a relieved sigh.
"Well, that's good, I guess," I respond, trying to smile. "What about the others? Boys or girls? Unless, you don't want to tell me. Which is cool, so cool, like don't even worry about it. Why would you worry about it?" I quickly clamp my mouth shut so I can stop vomiting words.
"I don't like anybody who is in that school right now," Derek says carefully, his brow furrowed.
"Oh," I say, just to say something. "Cool." Because it's not like I expected him to say that he liked me or anybody else or even tell me if he did. I have given him no reason at all to trust me with something like that.
Though, he is being forced to trust me with his biggest secret. But, emphasis on the being forced to. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have just told me that. But, still, next to that, some little crush seems insignificant and tiny.
But, maybe I'm just over-complicating things. I've been known to do that before. Maybe he just doesn't like anybody.
"We're here," I announce quietly, pulling in to the old diner. Derek just as silently climbs out.
"Stiles!" The grandmother-like waitress I love so much, Betty cries out as we walk through the door. "Haven't seen you in a while."
I smile widely and accept the hug she enthusiastically doles out. "Hey, Betty. I know, I've been busy with school and lacrosse."
"And the love life, too, I see," she says suggestively, raising her eyebrows and checking out Derek. "Who is this?"
"Uh, this is Derek. He's a friend," I enunciate clearly, giving her a pointed look. She rolls her eyes like she doesn't believe it. Which, really, is a compliment of the highest order. Thinking that I could get Derek. I have no problem with her thinking that. Unfortunately, Derek probably does.
"Well, it is nice to meet you, Derek," she smiles warmly at him, pulling his stiff frame into a hug.
"Um, Betty, he's not much of a hugger," I say, because I'm observant like that.
"It's fine, Stiles," Derek says, brushing me off. I stare at him in puzzlement for a moment before shrugging. I wonder if he would feel the same way if I was the one hugging him.
Betty leads us to my usual table, the one with a perfect view of who is going in and out of the police station. I like knowing how long my dad is actually out working and how long he is in doing desk work. Also, if he is sneaking in with fast food.
"Take your time, boys," she says, giving me a cheeky smile. She walks off, probably to gossip with the cook. I sigh and open my menu, hiding my surely red face from Derek.
"Sorry about that," I say quietly. He stays silent. "She can be… herself." He still doesn't say anything, so I look up at him and catch the amused glint in his eyes.
"Stiles," he says finally, the corners of his lips turned up slightly. "It's fine. Really."
I let out a big deep breath. Okay. We're friends. It's okay if people mistake us as a couple. He's okay with people mistaking us as a couple. Because we are friends. And friends aren't totally freaked out by that stuff.
"Cool. What do you want?" I shove a menu in his hands.
"Well, I recall someone telling me that the milkshakes here were 'awesome'," he answers, actually making air-quotes. "And I wouldn't want to miss out on that." I huff quietly, not knowing if he is mocking me or being friendly. Probably some strange mix of the two.
Betty comes back with newly applied lipstick and fluffier hair. I give her an exasperated look and she responds with a raised eyebrow, as if to say 'Hey, you said he was just a friend. I might as well try my luck.'
Which, gross, because she's, like, old and he's mine. Hypothetically. Theoretically. Mentally. Basically everything but literally.
"I'll have a peanut butter chocolate cookie dough milkshake and a bacon cheeseburger with curly fries," I say brightly, thrusting the menu into her hands hard. She just rolls her eyes, not even needing to write my order down. I kind of might always get the same thing. But if it's not broken, why fix it, right?
"Vanilla milkshake and a hamburger, please," Derek responds and I give him a look, because come on. That has got to be the most boring order placed in ever. He just looks at me like he doesn't know what's wrong and I just know he must've not gone out a lot with his family as a kid. But he can always make up for that now, right?
"So, do you and your parents and Laura go out much?" I ask, because, really, what else is there to talk about? I babble so much, he probably knows my life story and a half, and all I know about him is that he turns hairy once a month. Not really something to base a friendship on.
Derek looks terribly uncomfortable for a couple silent moments and I wonder if I said something wrong. There was nothing wrong with that, right? Was I overstepping boundaries? Are we not close enough to talk about family?
"Um," Derek finally says quietly, looking down at the patterned tabletop. "My parents, they aren't- they're not really… They are dead."
I swallow and stare at him, my lips forming a tiny 'o'. Duh. Why else wouldn't I have seen his parents once during the two times I've been to his house. Of course they're dead and I just made everything terribly awkward.
"Um," I utter, searching for something to say. "That sucks." Wow, smooth. How comforting. He confides in me with another dark confession and I sooth him by saying it sucks.
"My mom is dead," I blurt out suddenly, because what else am I going to say? "She was a police officer. She got horribly injured and was taken to the hospital. She was treated by Scott's mom- that's how I met him- until she died. My dad started training, because, I guess it made him feel closer to her. And, wow, this conversation just took a turn for the depressing. Why am I telling you this?"
Derek is now staring at me with just as much intensity as he was the table. When he speaks, his voice is almost ragged and hoarse sounding. "Stiles-"
"Here you go, boys." Betty appears out of nowhere, totally oblivious to the dark mood. She gives us each our shakes and burgers and asks if there is anything else she can get us.
"We're fine," Derek answers absently, still looking at me. When she goes away, he opens his mouth like he wants to continue our earlier conversation, but no way.
"Wow, I guess this isn't really what you had in mind when you semi-invited me to show you the town. We should have just gone to the movies. Or shopping. Or the library. Or clubbing, that's always a crowd favorite. Unfortunately, I'm not the best drinking buddy, considering everyone knows my dad is the sheriff and refuses to hook me up with a beer or two out of fear, but whatever. You could probably get something; you look weirdly like you're older. Like, really, who has stubble like that in high school, dude?" I keep talking, because if I don't, he's going to talk or, even worse, it'll be silent.
"I liked this idea," Derek says simply, giving in and I'm relieved. I smile gratefully at him and he just starts to eat his food. I follow suit.
"So, do you want to actually do something after this or just call it a night? I would invite you over to watch something, but you don't real strike me as a movie person for some reason. I think it's the way you act like you are allergic to entertainment and anything that has to do with pop culture." He lets me ramble on and he doesn't say a thing, for which I'm thankful. I still pause to let him speak.
"I like movies." He shrugs, drinking half his milkshake in one gulp. "I'm not totally oblivious to that stuff."
"Just slightly," I agree, grinning, hoping the awkward is over. "So, are you saying you want to watch a movie?" Watching dumb movies and eating way too buttery popcorn is usually a Scott and Stiles thing, but we haven't really done that in a while. I'm up for finding a new partner in crime for a little while.
He looks torn for a minute. "Actually, I think I need to get home. Laura and I need to get… prepared." At my questioning look, he continues. "There's a full moon on Sunday. You can never start getting ready too early."
Oh. I swallow, trying not to say something dumb. "And, it's on a school night. Guess you can't use that as an excuse as to why you don't have your homework. 'I'm sorry, sir, my werewolf sister ate my homework.'" Mission failed.
He looks vaguely amused. "Yeah, pretty much. But I don't think she'll eat my homework. We're both pretty in control by now."
I refrain from saying I have scars that prove otherwise, because, damn it, that is in the past now. I'm over it, he's over it, we're all over it.
"Oh, okay, cool. Will you be in school on Monday?" I watch Derek suck down the rest of his milkshake, cheeks hollowed in. Damn, how does he make drinking liquid ice cream look sexy? I know I probably have chocolate all over my face and have been chasing the straw down with my tongue the whole time. Maybe it is a wolf thing.
"Most likely. I probably won't even wolf out Sunday night. Again, I can mostly control it. We just stay inside as a precaution. Some people and things can set us off. Things that trigger us from past memories or people that we care about. Especially since neither one of us have found our mate yet. Mates are special. The smallest thing from them can heighten everything, negatively or positively. If you get in a tiny argument with them that night, you can wolf out and kill them." I raise my eyebrows at the new information.
"Wow. That is… terrible. For both parts." I try to give him a comforting smile.
"It's not all bad," he shrugs slightly, finishing his burger. "They can also affect you positively. As long as you're careful around them, that can be the best night of your lives. But some- understandably- don't want to take the risk."
Betty comes by again, asking if we want the check or dessert. Derek and I look at each other and immediately agree on the check.
I take some crumpled bills out of my back pocket to pay for at least my half. I mean, it was my idea to get food anyway. But Derek shakes his head at me, taking his wallet out.
"No!" I cry suddenly, startling him. "I can pay for my half." He gives me a weird look like he doesn't understand me but complies silently.
And, okay, that may have been a bit of an overreaction, but he obviously doesn't understand that if he pays for both of us, this is a date. And I really don't want to force him into a date with me, no matter how much I want it to be one.
He lays a crisp bill out as a tip- he's allowed to be the one to tip her, because, come on, I'm not made of money- and we get up to go.
We don't talk on the ride back, but that's my fault. As soon as we reached my car, I flicked on the radio, not wanting to talk about dead relatives or the rules of wolfiness. When another ACDC song comes on, Derek peeks at me out of the corner of his eye, but I stay silent.
We reach his house and I turn to him with a smile, not wanting to ruin the progress we made today. Which, hopefully, isn't nonexistent and just in my hopeful mind.
"Thanks," Derek says, his lips pressed tightly together in what may be a smile of some sort. "It was…fun."
We're getting into the romantic comedy category again, so I just grin at him. "Yup, yup, totally." I don't add the We should do it again sometime because I know it'll seem like I'm forcing him again. Plus, the cheese factor, come on.
"Well, I'm going to go," he continues, looking at me with an unreadable expression. I beam brightly at him until he finally looks away with a tiny audible exhale of air.
"Bye, Derek!" I squeak the moment he gets out, ready to floor it. I don't though. Instead, I sit there, watching him walk into his house, looking back exactly two and a half- there may or may not have been an aborted head turn- times.
As soon as he disappears inside, I slam my head down on the steering wheel.
I am so fucked.
AN- I know, I know, I am the most terrible author ever. I never update. I just got caught up in some stuff and my idiot brother stepped on my laptop and broke the top left-hand corner of the screen. Meaning, sometime soon, it is going to have to be sent in. He better let me use his laptop in the meantime.
Also, I just want to squeal and hug you all because you are amazing. In the last two weeks, about ten or so of my readers have come to me with story ideas, asking me to help them organize their thoughts or asking if I thought the writing was good enough or if I would read over what they had. I don't know what brought it on but I am so happy about whatever it was! I love when you guys talk to me- whether it be PMing or reviewing or messaging me on tumblr- and I always, always, always make sure to answer.
I had absolutely no inspiration whatsoever for this chapter- I don't even know where that Back in Black scene came from; it didn't even make sense, like wtf- so sorry if it sucks. I tried to apologize for the long wait by posting my sterek Christmas story, but I don't know if that made up for it.
Anyways, thanks for reading! If you catch any errors, please don't hesitate to inform me. Love you all.