This is my first attempt at writing Fan Fiction so reviews/constructive criticism are more than welcome :)
Waking up 6 hours later - he could never sleep much when he'd had a drink - Stiles found himself in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, with a very disturbing, or very hot depending on what mood he looked at it with, sight next to him. Derek Hale was sprawled out on top of the covers next to him, naked if you didn't count the boxers. He was laid on his front, and every defined muscle of his back was tantalizingly close to Stiles, he almost reached out to touch him, but he dreaded to think what Derek would do if he woke up and found Stiles pawing at his back. Drawing a deep breath, Stiles contented himself with just looking for a second, looking at all the hard muscle on the man next to him, thoughts of him minus the boxers would not leave Stiles' head, they were completely the wrong kind of boxers for a fantasy too - shapeless, black, and loose. If they had been white Y-fronts it would have given him a clearer picture of the no doubt beautiful ass beneath the fabric. Stiles felt his member growing in his own shapeless, plaid boxers and realized he better get up pretty quickly if he didn't want to avoid embarrassment. Running to the bathroom in just his underwear - Derek must have stripped him - Stiles slammed the door and hurried to the toilet. The thought of jerking off quickly was tempting, but Stiles tended to be pretty vocal when he came, and that would be even more embarrassing than his hard on pressing into Derek's leg when he woke up.
Splashing water onto his face, Stiles cursed at the sound it was making. His head was throbbing, every noise was like a foghorn blasting in his ear, but he was determined to overcome it just to spend some time with Derek, that is if Derek wanted too. He had clearly spared no expense on the hotel room, or more accurately hotel suite. There was the bedroom from which Stiles had just woken, leading into a huge entrance room full of overstuffed chairs and chintzy coffee tables, which led to a living room decorated in a similar style to the entrance room. The entire suite was very un-Derek like, but it was pretty luxurious. Padding back into the bedroom Stiles moved to put on his t-shirt but found that it stunk really badly of booze, and sweat, and cigarettes. Derek's open suitcase seemed to offer a myriad of white and black t shirts, so he fished out the first one he saw and threw it on, shooting another look at the beautiful body of Derek as he headed to the living room. He turned the TV on - on a very low volume which could be passed off as being conscientious and not wanting to wake Derek but was more to help his headache - and sprawled out on the sofa in his boxers and Derek's white t shirt. He was watching the news with unseeing eyes, head throbbing, his body aching. He felt like the back end of a cab smash.
"Morning." Derek's grunt propelled him from his daze as he walked into the room rubbing sleep from his eyes and scratching his bare chest. He had put on some black jogging bottoms, but declined a t-shirt.
"Hey man, morning. Sorry about last night... think I was having a little too much fun." Stiles said with a half smile, hoping Derek wasn't angry with him. Angry Derek was someone Stiles did not like.
"Whatever. Did you sleep okay?" Derek asked as he extracted a water from a mini fridge, throwing one to Stiles too.
"Yeah, well enough. Thanks for letting me stay, but you could have just left me on the sofa, you know, if you felt uncomfortable with me in the bed or whatever, I mean not that I felt uncomfortable - well not comfortable, I mean I was comfortable and all, but not how it sounded, you know?" Derek looked at him with narrowed eyes, "Um - just thanks, I dunno how you feel about laying down with another guy, I never saw you as the sleepover type but hell what do I know? I mean we were kind of friends, well not friends, you scared me, but you know we got closer and all that..."
"Stiles." Derek cut through Stiles' rambling, which was becoming more unintelligible by the minute. Derek waited a few seconds before replying, as if fishing through the vast amount Stiles had blurted out, it felt like hours to Stiles, and he had to resist the urge to talk again just to fill the silence. "Uncomfortable? Why do I care? I would have slept on the sofa myself but it's too small." He shrugged, frowning at Stiles. The sofa was pretty small, especially for Derek's six foot frame.
"Well, thanks anyway." Stiles looked down awkwardly. Every time he looked at Derek his eyes flashed down to his chest, he was just so... hot - there was no other word for it. "What are you doing in New York? It's a great city, right? So glad I chose to come here for college." Stiles continued.
"Nothing much, I was just visiting, Beacon Hills is too much. I dunno, I'm thinking of staying."
"Staying? Like permanently?" Stiles asked, shocked. He didn't think Derek would ever leave that crap burnt down house in the forest.
"Yeah. I was gonna look you up, but I dunno - I just never got around to it. Kind of weird running into you last night." Derek raised his voice so he could be heard from the bedroom, where he was getting a t shirt.
"I know, I'm glad I did though." Stiles winced at his words, they could come across as pretty emotional for just running into a friend.
"Are you wearing my favorite shirt?" Derek asked as he returned to the living room with a black t shirt in his hand.
"Oh yeah, mine stunk, sorry." Stiles' eyes widened as he saw the glare on Derek's face, "Jeez calm down, it's just a shirt, you can have it, I don't care, well I'd prefer not to have to walk around the city naked, but you know if angry wolf-guy is gonna glare at me like that then I'll just take it off and run..."
"You can wear this one, that's the only shirt that fits me right." Derek held out the black t shirt for him as Stiles stood up and wiggled out of the white one. Standing there with his shirt off, Stiles thought he saw Derek's eyes light up a little, maybe even doing a little roaming across his body, but he passed it off as his own fantasy.
"Thanks." The t shirt didn't even look the same on Derek as it did on Stiles, it clung to every muscle on his body, whereas on Stiles it just fell down, flat and lifeless, hardly showing anything. The black one was even looser.
"Do you wanna go get something to eat? Or order something? I'm starving." Stiles asked, hoping Derek hadn't just brought him back to his hotel room because he didn't know where else to leave Stiles, hoping that he actually wanted to hang out with him. Those eyes roving over his body had pushed Stiles into a whole other land of hopeful.
"Yeah I could eat, let's go out though, the food here's not so good. I'll just jump in the shower." Stiles' mouth practically hit the floor as he thought of Derek in the shower, the temptation to jerk off came into his head again, but he knew there was no way he could. Maybe when he got his own shower. At least Derek had agreed to eat, it would be fun to spend more time with him - not just because he had a huge crush on him, but because they were friends from home, and how often did you run into a friend in a huge city thousands of miles away?
Forty five minutes later the two boys - though Derek was more of a man - were dressed and walking down a bustling 14th street, full of early morning commuters and jammed up early morning traffic, both dressed in all Derek's clothes. Stiles had thrown his own into the hotel laundry, at least it would give him an excuse to see Derek again, when he had to pick them up, and they were pretty comfortable, the thought that Derek wore this same underwear was just icing on the cake. Derek's leather clad arm kept brushing against his own because of how close they were - this was New York, sidewalk space was almost as high a premium as apartment space - and Stiles had to resist an urge to reach out and grab Derek's hand. He felt sick, the sound of the traffic, the clanging of shoes on the pavement, the voices of the commuters, they were all amplified in his head, and the light - oh the light - it felt like thousands of spotlights were pointed at him, blinding him. He stumbled a few times, hardly able to concentrate on where he was walking his hangover was so bad, but Derek always threw out a hand to steady him. It was all very un-Derek like. The chintzy hotel room he could accept, it was just a hotel, and even the letting him stay over, it wasn't like Derek was a bad guy, and there was nowhere else to take Stiles. But the agreeing to come to breakfast, borrowing him clothes, and helping him as he stumbled, now those were not Derek. He would have been more likely to grunt, snarl, and growl till Stiles left his hotel room, never to be seen again. Somehow Stiles couldn't really believe that Derek Hale had just mellowed out, and was now friendly, helpful, and co-operative.
"Where do you wanna go then? I seriously have to get inside soon before my head just implodes, or maybe even my whole body. You know I watched this documentary once about spontaneous combustion, and they said it was like supernatural stuff or like unknown causes but I seriously think it's just when people are so hungover that they can't go on with all this noise and light, their bodies just give up and they just have spontaneous combustion." Stiles looked up slightly at Derek, who had just a whisper of a smile on his hard set face as he listened to Stiles, that little hint of a smile on Derek was like a full, toothy smile for anyone else, and Stiles smiled himself just looking at it. "Look all these places are the same, lets just go down here." Stiles grabbed Derek's arm without realizing it as he turned down a side street, which was quieter than the last street but was still too much for him to handle. He didn't realize how tense Derek's arm was until they had passed through the crowd of people on the corner, but Derek didn't move to throw him off. Stiles would have liked to have held onto that arm for longer, but the air had been poisoned by tension - was it sexual tension or awkward tension? Stiles didn't know, of course he hoped it was the former, but he let go just in case.
"Here." Derek stopped outside a seedy looking diner, "I mean - how about here?" It was as if Derek was dragging out every word, grinding his teeth as he did. Was he trying to be... nice?
"Uh yeah sure, I did that pancake tour of America thing when I drove here in my stupid U-Haul, the journey took like three months but I am now a diner expert so I can teach you everything you need to know." Stiles smiled at Derek as they slid in a cherry-red booth, each on opposite sides of the table.
"What can I get you?" A bored looking waitress asked as she smacked gum around her mouth. Stiles could see Derek wincing at the sound, clearly his heightened wolf senses didn't mind blasting traffic but couldn't handle chewing gum.
"I need more food than I've ever ate," Stiles looked down the greasy menu, "so can I get some pancakes with extra syrup, some toast - don't scrimp on the butter - and a mushroom omelette, please. Oh and can I have two glasses of orange juice, one water, and a coffee." Stiles handed the menu to Derek, who was looking at him like he was an idiot. "What? I'm hungry."
"I'll just have some toast, coffee and orange juice." Derek said as he passed her back the menu, wiping his hands on his jeans.
"You're gonna starve to death, you have to keep up your strength, you know. Especially if you're gonna be running round the city doing all kinds of wolf stuff like biting people and making yourself a new pack. Oh god, you're not, are you? I can't handle worrying about wolves getting me at night, I have enough problems with muggers and prostitutes." Stiles looked at Derek genuinely, at first he had been joking, but he knew Derek, and he knew he liked having a pack to worship him.
"No, Stiles. I came here to get away from all that..." He was suddenly very interested in his napkin.
"Well don't spare me the details, come on Derek don't you have anything more to say than that?" Stiles was irritated at always being the one to speak, he wanted Derek to open up and tell him something for a change.
"I still don't know if I'm even gonna go back. It's New York, you know." Derek gestured out of the window, where an emaciated woman was picking food out of the trash. Stiles laughed.
"Yeah, can't beat it - the people are just great." He raised his eyebrows, looking at the woman on the street.
"You know what I mean, New York in general. I always loved it here, but I never got to visit as much as I liked. I just think I should get away from Beacon Hills and everything that's happening there." Derek took a hearty sip of his searing coffee, which the waitress had just brought over with all the rest of their drinks, "Scott can handle himself now, besides, all that supernatural shit is wearing down, I'm kind of... over it."
"Over it?" Stiles frowned. "How can you be over it? I mean, I get how you can be over it, it's tiring, I had to move across the country just to escape it. But if you move here don't come dragging your wolf problems with you, I mean it. I can't handle it any more, I'll have to transfer to London or something." He smiled to take the edge of his words before taking a bite of toast, but Derek knew he was serious.
"Don't worry Stiles, if I do move here no wolf problems will be following me. The problem is finding an apartment." Now that they had food in front of them, a buffer between awkward sections of the conversation, words between the two were flowing more easily. Derek gestured for another coffee. Stiles couldn't even sip his yet, it was too hot.
"You know, my buildings pretty nice. I mean, I dunno your financial situation, but if I can afford one I'm sure you can. It's not like you're used to the heart of luxury, you lived in a fucking burnt down house the last time I saw you." Stiles hoped Derek didn't take offence at his words, but they were true after all.
"My family left me a lot of money, Stiles. I just didn't want to leave that house." His mouth turned up at the left in a half smile. "Until now."
"Huh? Now? As in now?" Stiles had to close his mouth, he was reading way too much into it, and his mind was going off on a tangent that it should not be exploring.
"What?" Derek looked at him with a confused expression.
"Nothing." Laughing to overcome the awkwardness of the moment, Stiles shoveled pancakes into his mouth to stop him from speaking. Either there was still alcohol in his system or he was losing his mind - he hoped it was the first option. Derek Hale would not uproot his life to be with Stiles, the man was as straight as they came, he had been going out with that crazy Argent woman when he was younger, not that he'd been out with anyone since, well, as far as Stiles knew. They were just friends. Well, kind of friends.
"That was so good." Stretching out in his seat, legs extended under Dereks seat, head rested against the cherry-red upholstery of the booth, Stiles let out a groan. "How can food make you feel so much better? Imagine being anorexic, it would be the worst thing possible."
"Mm." Derek grunted in response, finishing his third coffee. Clearly the conversational breakthrough they had over breakfast had faded. Perhaps food was the key to unlocking Derek, though that sort of just sounded stupid. Stiles was engrossed in staring at Derek, who was texting someone, not looking at Stiles. He was such a good looking guy, and kind of nice once you got to know him, although Stiles hardly knew the man at all. He was blowing everything out of proportion, he just let him stay at his place, lent him clothes, and went for breakfast with him. It wasn't true love. His own phone vibrating in the pocket of Derek's jeans that he was wearing jolted him out of yet another day dream. He was really having a lot of those lately.
'Sorry i didnt make it last night bet ur hungover. want to go for a walk? bored.' It was Emily, Stiles smiled at how easy she was to get along with, he had never really been friends with girls before, in fact he had never really had that many friends other than Scott - sure he was friendly with a lot of people, but they weren't friends per-say. Emily had told him she never made any friends anywhere she went, everyone said she was stuck up. They were both amazed that they had managed to make a friend on the first day of college, especially seen as they didn't even meet on campus.
'yeah ok just having breakfast. meet at central park lake in an hour?' he typed back, hoping Derek didn't think he was leaving him. He knew it wasn't nice to Emily, but if Derek asked him to spend more time with her he'd definitely make up some excuse for Emily and stay with him.
"Derek." Stiles said, though he didn't seem to be getting through. "Derek?!"
"Huh?" Derek jolted out of his texting haze; his very own Stiles moment.
"Are you done?" Stiles said as he whacked a few notes onto the table to pay for his half, or his three quarters. He ate way more than Derek.
"Yeah, yeah." Derek put his own money on the table, securing it with an empty coffee cup. "Listen, I have to go meet my real estate agent, I hope you don't mind." He looked at him for a few seconds, his eyes softening.
"No it's fine, I'm going to meet a friend in the park anyway." Derek tensed at Stiles' words. "You okay?"
"Not that guy from last night? He seemed like a real tool." Derek glared at Stiles, as if willing him never to see the guy again. Stiles didn't think the guy was a tool at all, he had kissed Stiles and offered to take him home, but anyone paled in comparison to Derek, at least for Stiles they did.
"No, a friend from NYU." The tension on Derek's face still didn't abate. "Emily - her name's Emily. Jeez." Stiles patted Derek on the back, who immediately loosened up when he heard Emily's name. As they reached the corner running into 14th Street once more, the two of them turned to each other, stuck in an awkward stale mate. What was the appropriate goodbye? Stiles wouldn't have objected to a kiss, but one of those manly hugs seemed more appropriate - though that had it's drawbacks too, and what if Derek went for a handshake or something. It was odd to see Derek looking awkward, true he wasn't as bad as Stiles, who was fidgeting and playing with the string through the hood of Derek's navy blue hoody, but Derek still looked pretty awkward - maybe not to anyone who didn't know him, but Stiles knew he usually stood just a little straighter, and hardly ever had his eyes fixed on the floor.
"Well... see you around?" Derek said, his expression a mixture of his normal anger and perhaps even a slight hopefulness. Stiles' mouth opened and closed, sure he would see him around, well he definitely hoped he would, but what was he meant to say? Yeah I want to spend more time with you because I think you're hot? It didn't work.
"Yeah - definitely. I mean, hopefully. If you're up for it that is. I'll call you." A blush spread across his face as he turned and practically ran up 14th Street, darting into the first subway he saw for protection from the eyes of Derek Hale, which he felt were following him down the street.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit." Stiles chanted to himself, leaning back and hitting his head on the tiles. "Why are you so awkward?" He murmured to himself, hoping he hadn't scared away Derek forever.