a/n: i know nothing about medicine aside from the fact that i like people in scrubs :D
From: Derek
Bumped into the mom that cornered me when we were getting out of the hospital at the grocery store.
Stiles smiles down at his phone, biting down on his bottom lip as he taps an answer.
To: Derek
did she try to bad touch you again?
From: Derek
No.
From: Derek
But she did ask me where my boyfriend was.
"Stop that."
"Stop what?" Stiles asks, blinking innocently at Scott.
"With the face," Scott scrunches his nose up, waving a hand to Stiles' face.
"What face?"
"Your Derek's texting me face."
"I don't have a Derek's texting me face," Stiles sputters, feeling the beginnings of a blush covering his cheeks.
"You kind of do," Allison says as she steps out of the chicken, wine bottle and glasses in hand.
"I do not!"
"You do," Lydia agrees, staring down at her nails. "It's disgusting."
"It kind of is," Danny gives him an apologetic smile, taking the glasses from Allison's hand and setting them up on the coffee table.
"I don't see how it's different from all of his other faces," Jackson pipes up, and Stiles feels oddly touched until he continues. "They're all disgusting to me."
Stiles is saved from having to hurl himself over the coffee table and punch Jackson when Danny whacks him in the back of the head and says, "Be nice."
Jackson just scowls down at his feet, but doesn't say anything else.
"I need new friends," Stiles sighs, dropping his head back against the back of the couch.
"No, you don't," Lydia says, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I don't want to have to train someone new."
"Thanks," Stiles snorts.
"I don't want you to go away," Scott frowns at him, eyes sad and worried. "You're my best friend."
"Oh, buddy," Stiles grins at him, throwing an arm around Scott's shoulder and pulling him in a hug. "I love you, too."
"But how are things with Derek?" Allison flops down besides her boyfriend on the couch, putting her legs over his lap.
Stiles thinks about that.
It's been three weeks since they exchanged phone numbers at the hospital, and they've been texting pretty much nonstop ever since. Derek hasn't said anything about wanting to see him, though, and Stiles doesn't really want to bring it up and and maybe running the risk of ruining things between them or appearing too eager and scaring Derek off.
He wonders if it's for the best, the unspoken text-only rule they have going on, because this way he's managed to learn more about Derek than he thinks he would have if they went on a date like everyone else thinks they're supposed to.
Stiles now knows that Derek works as a mechanic at his Uncle's garage with two of his best friends - one of which is dating his younger sister, Cora -, that pretty much all of his family and friends also ride bikes, and that his mom decided to occupy her time by opening a bar and putting his little sister and his other best friend to work.
So a lot of Derek's texts are related to one of those things, which means Stiles is constantly reading about how Derek is this close to bashing Isaac's head in with a wrench if he has to listen to anymore quips about his and his sister's sex life while they're working, how everyone keeps making fun of him for totaling his bike, and that if his mother asks him one more time about what kind of color stools she should have at the bar he's going to stab himself in the eye with a fork.
Okay, so maybe he doesn't sound particularly happy when he texts things like that, but Stiles knows Derek loves them.
And Stiles enjoys reading about the little things going on in Derek's life, and he's aware that the only reason why Derek feels comfortable enough with telling him about those things is because Stiles also spends a lot of type complaining about his own friends.
So he just gives Allison a small and shy smile and says, "Things are good."
"When are you going to see each other?" Danny asks, sipping his wine.
Stiles halts at that, biting down on his bottom lip. He can feel the eyes of his friends focused on him, and he knows they're taking his hesitation to answer as a point against Derek.
Even though none of them have actually talked to him.
Not that Stiles can really say anything, considering he's only spoken to Derek twice.
"We haven't talked about it yet," Stiles shrugs, and then makes an attempt to change the subject. "So are we ordering food right now or later?"
"Later," they all say in unison.
Stiles winces.
Sometimes he hates the standing dinner dates they all have when everybody manages to not be on call on the same night.
To: Derek
i need new friends
"Is there a reason why you haven't talked about it?" Lydia stares at him, eyes calculating. "Or is this just your natural ability of not doing anything making itself known once again?"
"I do things," Stiles frowns at her, pursing his lips together.
"You had a crush on me for the better part of ten years and you never once asked me out," she arches an eyebrow at him.
"Like you two would have worked," Jackson snorts.
"Not the point, Jackson," Danny reminds him.
"So," Allison tilts her head at him. "Is Lydia right? Or did you talk to him about it and he was the one who didn't mention it again?"
"Dude, that's not cool. You deserve someone better than that," Scott tells him, and then surprises everyone by saying, "Or maybe he's just waiting for you to say something."
Stiles opens and closes his mouth at that, blinking at Scott, because that makes a lot of sense.
Maybe Derek hasn't said anything because he's waiting for Stiles to say something first.
Maybe he's thinking the same thing Stiles is whenever he starts writing out a text suggesting them to meet soon only to delete it as soon as he finishes the sentence.
Maybe he's afraid Stiles will say no.
Even though Derek asking for Stiles' number and Stiles giving it to him is a pretty good indicator of, you know, interest from Stiles' part, maybe Derek's just nervous about making the first move.
And judging by how awkward Derek was whenever they interacted, Stiles has to say that's a pretty sensible and possible explanation for it all.
His phone buzzes.
From: Derek
I'll trade you. You can have all of mine. And my sisters.
Stiles swallows back a laugh at that, turning his head to the side and clasps Scott on the shoulder, determination written over his features, "You know what? You're totally right. Maybe he's just waiting for me to make a move first."
"Of course he is, man," Scott nods vigorously at him. "He'd have to be a real jerk not to want to go out with you."
"Scott's right," Allison flashes her dimples at him, pressing her toes against the side of Stiles' thigh. "You're a catch."
"You can hold up a conversation with me about Transmyocardial laser revascularization heart surgery," Lydia adds, like that's one of the many qualities someone should look for in a partner.
Maybe for her it is.
Stiles wouldn't know.
And thank fuck for that.
"You look nice in a v-neck," Danny raises his glass at him, shrugging and saying, "What? He does," when Jackson glares at him.
Everyone stares expectantly at Jackson, then, being the only one who still hasn't said something nice about why Derek should want to be with Stiles.
Not that Stiles is expecting anything from him, really.
"You're not as pathetic as you look," is what he finally says after a jab in the ribs from Lydia.
"Thank you, Jackson," Stiles says solemnly. "That's very nice of you to say."
"Don't expect me to do it again."
To: Derek
i take it back
To: Derek
i'm keeping them
"I would never," Stiles gasps, and then directs the room. "Now that you're done sticking your noses in my love life, can we please order some food?"
"We're only sticking our noses in your love life so you can stick your dick in Derek," Allison waves a hand in front of her, like it's not big deal.
Both Danny and Lydia nod in agreement, while Scott and Jackson get this pinched look on their faces like someone just told them they're going to have to pose for next year's Firefighter Calendar.
Stiles just sinks low into the couch cushions and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, dropping them to send Derek another text message.
To: Derek
i sent you that in a moment of weakness
To: Derek
you can have them
To: Derek
all of them
Stiles drops his phone in his lap, looking up only to see them all staring at him.
"I'm trading all of you in for Derek's friends," Stiles announces, making everyone break into laughter. "I hate you."
"Then why don't you help me pick dinner?" Danny offers, pointing to the takeout pamphlets on the coffee table.
"You sure you want to share your turn like that?" Stiles grabs them and leans forward on the couch so he and Danny can look over their choices for the night.
Since it's not often that their schedules sync and everyone manages to be free the same night, they all take turns choosing whatever it is they'll have for dinner. Last time it was Jackson's turn, and let's just say the night took a turn for the worse when they found out Scott is actually allergic to shrimp.
At least everyone at the table had some sort of medical training.
"I can just veto your choices if I don't like them," Danny shrugs, throwing away the adds for both Chinese and Thai food.
Stiles rolls his eyes at him, looking down at his lap when he feels his phone vibrate against his thigh.
His lips tug up when he sees it's another text from Derek.
From: Derek
I don't know...
From: Derek
Maybe I'd rather have you.
He's pretty sure he lets out a whimper of some sort, if judging by the way Danny actually startles in place and lets the pamphlets fall to the ground.
"Stiles?" Scott looks at him, confused.
"Nothing," Stiles squeaks, clutching his phone tightly to his chest.
"I didn't even ask you anything," Scott frowns.
"Did you just whimper?" Lydia quirks an eyebrow at him, eyes glinting.
"I did not," Stiles denies, his voice still sounding a little high.
"Was that another text from Derek?" Allison teases, smirking at him.
"No," Stiles says, way too fast to be true.
"You're not sexting, are you?" Jackson asks, scowling at him and narrowing his eyes when Stiles just bites down on his bottom lip and blushes. "Are you?"
Stiles lets out a meep when his phone buzzes again, his friends' eyes going from it to Stiles and then back to his phone again before all of them make a face and start to protest.
"Stiles."
"Oh my god."
"You don't do that in front of your friends."
"Good for you, Stiles."
"I hate you so much, Stilinski."
Stiles scrambles to get up from the couch when his phone vibrates a couple more times against his chest, almost knocking the wine bottle on top of the coffee table to the ground on his hurry to get the fuck away from everyone and to a safe place where he can text Derek back.
And maybe actually sext him.
He locks himself inside Scott's bathroom, sitting up against the counter and pursing his lips together before unlocking the screen of his phone.
From: Derek
I'm sorry.
From: Derek
Was that too forward?
From: Derek
I didn't mean
From: Derek
It's just that we've been talking for a while and
From: Derek
Sorry, I shouldn't assume
Stiles reads over the texts, stomach dropping a little when he sees Derek didn't even finish some of his sentences, as if he took Stiles' silence as him being uncomfortable at Derek for suggesting what he did.
So he starts typing furiously, trying to assure Derek that he is okay with this turn of events.
One hundred percent totally and absolutely okay with it.
So okay with it that if he knew where Derek lived he'd currently be sprawled over Derek's bed, naked, with his fingers up his ass and stretching himself for Derek's cock.
Stiles is suddenly glad he's in the bathroom and away from everyone when his dick twitches.
To: Derek
no nononono no it's okay omg it's okaaay
To: Derek
i was just... i was in the living room and all of my friends were there so it was a little awkward i guess but it was okay
Stiles takes a deep breath, biting down on his bottom lip as he types.
To: Derek
more than okay actually
To: Derek
i' know we've been talking for a while and i want... that
To: Derek
to see you
He only has to wait a couple of seconds for Derek's reply, and when it comes through the text is enough to make Stiles hop off the counter and do a little victory dance around the bathroom.
From: Derek
Yeah? :)
That's a smiley face, people.
Derek just sent him a text with a smiley face.
To: Derek
yeah
To: Derek
what do you say?
Stiles holds his breath in anticipation, praying that Scott is right and Derek is just waiting for him.
From: Derek
yes
Stiles is so busy twirling around the bathroom that he almost misses when his phone vibrates in his hand once again.
From: Derek
Maybe tomorrow night?
Stiles beams down at his phone, cheeks straining from how wide his smile is.
To: Derek
can't wait
If the loud bang that comes from the bathroom is because Stiles throws his arms up in celebration and punches the window, no one needs to know.
"What are you doing today?"
"Oh, you know," Stiles says, poking at his scrambled eggs with a spatula. "Working, saving lives, gluing flower stickers to Jackson's helmet. The usual."
The Sheriff just stares at him over the rim of his orange juice filled glass, face completely devoid of emotion.
Stiles breaks.
"And I'm also seeing Derek."
"Derek," his dad raises an eyebrow. "The one from the Egg Run?"
"Yep," Stiles presses his lips together.
"And the one who was in that nasty bike accident a while ago."
Stiles can almost feel the disapproval in his dad's tone like it's a physical thing.
"That's him," Stiles clears his throat, serving his eggs on a plate and sitting down beside his dad on the kitchen table.
The Sheriff makes a thoughtful sound at the back of his throat before picking up his half-eaten toast and taking a bite, never taking his eyes off of Stiles.
"You're going to stare at me until I promise I won't ride in a bike with Derek, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"I'm not going to do that."
"I just don't want to get a call from Melissa letting me know my son's in the hospital," The Sheriff sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face.
"That's not gonna happen," Stiles promises. "But if it makes you feel better I'll ask Derek to take me for rides around the block before we try our luck on the busy streets of Beacon Hills."
"You're not as funny as you think you are," his dad shakes his head at him.
"I am hilarious," Stiles scoffs, stuffing his face with eggs.
He likes this, having breakfast with his dad. They don't really have that much free time to spend together since Stiles became an EMT, so Stiles values whatever little time they do manage to do something together.
Since Stiles and Danny were scheduled for the mornings shifts this past weeks, that means they get to do this: Stiles throwing something together for them to eat while his dad reads the paper, and then both of them sitting down and filling each other in about their lives as Stiles stuffs his face with breakfast food and his dad gives him judgy eyebrows because he's raised his son better than this.
"So," the Sheriff starts. "What are you two doing tonight?"
Stiles is thankful that he still has pretty much half of his food stuck in his mouth, so he's able to take his time chewing rather than having to answer his dad.
Truth is, Stiles doesn't really know what they're doing.
He only knows what he hopes they'll be doing.
And that is: each other.
Because after they both agreed on doing something tonight, Derek completely took over planning their date and refused to tell Stiles what he had in mind.
Even when he asked, Derek's answer was vague.
From: Derek
You'll see.
The next line was an address, telling Stiles to be there at seven p.m. sharp.
That's is.
Nothing more.
Zero explanations.
If Derek didn't know Stiles' dad was the Sheriff, Stiles would be worried about him being a serial killer and luring him off to a desert place only to kill him and chop him off in tiny little pieces.
But since that's - hopefully - not the case, Stiles texted him a "looking forward to it" back and tried not to smile too wide at everyone during the rest of the dinner.
Because this means that Derek really was waiting for Stiles to make a move, and Stiles made sure to spent the last few days mentally kicking himself for not having done so sooner.
He could have been having sex with Derek for three weeks now.
All that time wasted on getting off thinking about Derek's hands on him instead of actually having Derek's hands on him.
Stiles stops that line of thought as soon as it starts.
He doesn't need to think about sex with Derek when his dad is in the room.
So he just shrugs one shoulder, swallows his food, and says, "I don't know, really. Derek wants it to be a surprise."
He knows better than to lie to his dad by now, and he doesn't want to give him any more reasons not to trust Derek than he apparently already has.
"A surprise," his dad repeats slowly.
"Yeah," and Stiles really can't help it when that comes out a little breathless, his lips curling up in a small smile as he stares down at his plate.
"Oh, god," his dad groans, throwing his toast back on his plate and leaning back on his chair.
Stiles stares up at him, eyes wide, fork halfway to his mouth, "What?"
"You got it bad, don't you, kid?" he says softly, eyes a little sad.
Stiles presses his lips together, avoiding his father's gaze.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure you don't."
"I don't have it bad for Derek, Dad. Geez."
"Right."
"I don't."
"I'm not arguing with you, Stiles."
And when Stiles turns his eyes up to look at his dad is to find him with his arms crossed over his chest, lips stretched into a smirk.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Stiles whines, hitting his head against the table. "I'm your only child. You're supposed to be supportive and, you know, love me. Not torture me like this."
"I'll take my fun where I can get it," the Sheriff smiles, warm and so fucking big Stiles kind of wants to hit him a little bit right now.
"You're a horrible horrible father," Stiles glares at him, trying to look mad but failing miserably when his lips twitch.
"Now, now," his dad reaches over to pat him on the head. "It's okay."
"It's not okay," Stiles blanches. "I don't even know him, not really."
"You know that sometimes that's not the problem," his dad tells him. "God knows I didn't knew your mom before I took one look at her and decided I was going to spend the rest of my life with her."
Stiles swallows hard at that, feeling his father's fingers press against his skull at the mention of his mom. It still hurts, sometimes, talking about her. They do it more often then when Stiles was in high school, but it's still a sore spot for both of them.
He appreciates this, though. It means his dad understands. And maybe it means he probably won't give Stiles a hard time when he stops by a few days after his date with Derek and promptly tells him he won't love anyone else in his life, ever.
"I just-" Stiles sighs, squeezing his eyes shut before whispering, "I'm scared."
"Hey," his dad says, moving his chair closer to Stiles' and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with that. It's actually a perfectly normal reaction to be terrified out of your mind when you realize you're in love with someone."
Stiles turns his head to the side to narrow his eyes at his dad. "I'm not in love with him."
The Sheriff just raises both eyebrows at him.
"Not yet, anyways," Stiles grumbles.
"But the potential is there," his dad nods along, a thoughtful look on his face. "And you're scared he won't feel the same way," he adds, and at the way Stiles' eyes him sadly he continues, "Even though he's been texting you nonstop since you told me you visited him at the hospital, and he's the one who asked you for your number in the first place."
"That only means he's interested," Stiles argues, even though what his dad said makes him feel a little bit better. "Not that he-," he waves a hand around. "You know."
"The fact that he's going to go through the trouble of making your first date a surprise is a pretty good indicator he's as invested in this as you are," the Sheriff tells him, a knowing look on his face. "If not more so."
"You think?" Stiles bites down on his lower lip, eyes big and hopeful as he stares at him dad.
"I know it," his dad gives him a sharp nod, and then smirks. "And if it turns out that he's not, I can always find something to arrest him for."
Stiles chokes on a laugh, "Dad."
"I'm just saying," his dad squeezes his shoulder before letting go. "Now eat your breakfast."
"Yes, sir."
"So, what are you and Derek doing tonight?"
Stiles looks up from the sandwich he's making only to make a face at Danny, "Why does everyone keep asking me that?"
"Who else asked you?"
"My dad," Stiles says, and at Danny's unimpressed look he adds, "And Mrs. McCall, when she called me to let me know next week's weekly dinner is going to be at my dad's house. And Scott, when I saw him, like, two hours ago."
"That's not everyone," Danny points out, leaning against the kitchen counter and staring at Stiles expectantly. "So?"
"I don't know, okay?" Stiles tells him, refusing to look back at Danny. "He wants it to be a surprise."
"Really?" Danny asks, sounding impressed.
"Yes, really."
"Hm."
Stiles glances at him and narrows his eyes, "Hm what?"
"It's just-," Danny shrugs one shoulder. "He'll have to put a lot of work in that. You know, making it a surprise."
Stiles purses his lips together. "What do you think it means?"
"It means he's willing to go through a lot of trouble to impress you," Danny raises an eyebrow at him. "And that means he gets a few points in my book."
"Yeah?" Stiles smiles at Danny. "My dad said the pretty much the same thing, you know, about the whole going through a lot of trouble to do this."
"Your dad is a wise man," Danny nods. "You know, being the Sheriff and all."
Stiles rolls his eyes, throwing a tomato slice at Danny.
Just then the room starts to fill in with Jackson's company, both he and Scott walking over to where Stiles and Danny are standing.
Scott gazes from Stiles' sandwich to his best friend's face, eyes going wide and glazing over as he pushes his bottom lip forward.
"I hate you," Stiles mutters under his breath, cutting the sandwich in half and giving one of them to Scott.
"Thanks, man," Scott beams up at him.
"You two are disgusting," Jackson spits out, opening the fridge and getting out a bottle of pickles.
"Sure," Danny drawls out, eyeing Jackson as he opens the bottle, sticks his fingers inside, grabs a pickle, and takes a bite. "They're the ones who're disgusting."
Jackson frowns at him, munching on his pickle.
"So," Stiles says slowly, giving them his expectant eyebrow wiggle. "How were things at the Preserve?"
Scott sighs tiredly, shoulders slumping forward.
"That bad, huh?" Danny winces in sympathy.
"It wasn't bad," Scott crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm just tired of us getting called in because some dumb kids decided to light a bonfire in the middle of the woods."
"They're sending us out for that when we could be helping someone who really needs it," Jackson says quietly, and it's in moments like this one that Stiles remembers Jackson didn't have an easy start in life like the rest of them.
They stay quiet after that, Stiles and Scott chewing on their sandwiches while Jackson eats his pickle and Danny looking at something on his phone.
And then Scott says, "The old empty house at the Preserve is not empty anymore."
That gets him both Stiles and Danny's attention.
Fast.
"Yeah," Scott nods, swallowing around his food before he continues. "Apparently the family decided to move back to Beacon Hills? So they renovated the house and some of them are living there again."
"Really?" Stiles asks, because this is news to him.
Kind of big news, actually.
He remembers driving to the Preserve when he was a teenager, the old ruins calling out to him like nothing else. He remembers the smell of ash and rotten wood, how the house didn't even look like a house anymore, just a shell of someone's elses life and all the ghosts they must have carried with them.
He doesn't remember the fire, not really. He was too young to understand that someone's family burned to death due to faulty wiring, too young to get what that meant.
Maybe that's why he was so attracted to it while growing up. Because whoever survived something like that must have understood what it was like to feel completely helpless over losing people you love, over watching them waste away and not being able to do anything about it, not being able to save them.
Like Stiles felt when his mom got sick.
So the fact that he had absolutely no idea the house was renovated and people were actually living there was a big deal.
"Didn't your dad tell you?" Scott frowns at him, licking mayo off his thumb.
"No, he didn't," Stiles huffs, shifting in place.
The reason Scott assumes Stiles' dad would have told him about it is because he had to pick Stiles up from the house way too many times to count.
Some of those times Stiles might have not been, you know, sober.
And maybe that's why his dad didn't said anything, so Stiles wouldn't be tempted into snooping around and having the new tenants call the police on him. And then the embarrassment that would bring everyone when they found out that the police was actually Stiles' dad, so yeah.
Good call.
Still, he makes a mental note to find out what the family name is and who's living there.
"How do you know people are living there, anyway?" Danny asks, eyeing Jackson eating with a look of disgust on his face.
"One of them made the call," Jackson says, and Scott adds, "He was creepy."
"Creepy?" Stiles licks his lips, sounding even more interested.
"Older dude," Scott explains, and then shudders. "He kept smiling at us."
"He's clothes were worth more than Scott's bike," Jackson fills in.
"That's not really an accomplishment," Danny mumbles, throwing his hands up when Scott frowns at him and says, "Hey!"
"Maybe he was smiling because you two just look so pretty in your gear," Stiles changes the subject, bating his lashes at both Jackson and Scott, earning a chuckle from Danny.
"Fuck off, Stilinski," Jackson snaps at the same time Scott smiles at him and says, "Thanks, dude."
"You're welcome," Stiles kisses him on the cheek, and just as he's about to open his mouth to say something else the siren rings and a dispatch call starts resonating through the firehouse.
Ambulance 17. Head Injury-
"That's us," Danny sighs, clasping Jackson on the shoulder before tilting his head at Stiles. "Let's go."
"Good luck," Scott yells after him as Stiles and Danny make their way to the ambulance.
They hop into the ambulance and quickly make their way to the location, which happens to be a hardware store downtown. There's little to no commotion in front of the store, just a clerk in a little blue vest with the name 'Jake' sewed on it waiting for them by the door.
"Oh, thank god," he says as soon as Stiles and Danny climb off the ambulance. "Can you just please come in and make sure he's okay so she can leave?"
Both Stiles and Danny glance at each other at that, following the guy as he walks them further and further into the store.
The closer they get to the back of the store, the more Stiles can hear the voice of a woman snapping at the store owner, saying something about code violations and dangerous environments and suing you until the only thing you have left is that ugly angle grinder that almost killed Boyd.
She sounds vaguely familiar.
And it isn't until he hears another woman say, "Laura, there's no need for that," in a much calmer voice that Stiles realizes why.
It also helps that they finally get to where they're all standing, and Stiles has to press his lips together to muffle his urge to laugh.
The owner, that now Stiles recognizes as being Mr. Harold, is backed up against a shelf while Laura looms over him, one hand on her hip and the other pointing dangerously close to the old man's face. There's also an older woman who looks a lot like Laura with a hand on her shoulder, as if trying to calm her down or get her to step back, and all of them are being observed by an incredibly unimpressed guy sitting on a chair and holding a blood-covered cloth to his forehead.
Laura opens her mouth to keep cursing at the owner, only stopping to do a double take as she sees him. "Stiles?"
"It's lovely seeing you again, Laura," Stiles flashes her a smile.
"You know her?" Danny asks, incredulously, only to wave a hand in front of him and say, "Nevermind. Of course you know her."
Laura makes a face at both of them, looking displeased at their unprofessionalism.
"So, Boyd?" Stiles ignores her in favor of turning to the guy holding a bloody cloth to his head, seeing him nod before point at the guy's head. "Can you move that for me?"
The guy just blinks at Stiles before removing the cloth, blood slowly oozing down the side of his face from the cut he has just above his temple. Before Stiles can even open his mouth Danny is already passing him the necessary things to clean the wound, so Stiles gets to work while Laura and the other woman hoover behind them.
"Can anyone tell us how this happened?" Danny asks no one in particular.
Laura's expression twists into a scowl, but before she can open her mouth the older woman says, "We were looking at the displays. An angle grinder must have been a little loose and it fell on his head," Stiles thinks Danny must have blinked at her for that short explanation, so she adds, "Really, there's not much else to it. Looking at displays, picking up a hammer, loose angle grinder falling off the sky."
She has a what can you do kind of tone to her voice that makes Stiles wonder what kind of injuries she must have seen in her life to not be even a little phased by someone almost getting their head split open by wayward tools.
Stiles' lips twitch.
That's one badass lady.
"Do you have your shots in order?"
"Yes," Boyd says, wincing a little as Stiles pokes at his cut. "I feel dizzy."
Boyd's speech is a little slurred but he doesn't seem to be having any bad reactions to lights, but the fact that he's experiencing dizziness is not good.
"Well," Stiles says slowly. "The cut doesn't look that deep, but we still have to take you to the hospital so you can get checked out properly and get a few stitches, specially if you're dizzy."
"What about all the blood?" Mr. Harold pipes up, snapping his mouth shut when Laura glares at him.
"Head wounds bleed a lot," Danny explains, earning nods from everyone.
Stiles tries not to think about how everyone, aside from him and Danny who are, you know, medical professionals, know that.
"Any of you riding in the ambulance with us?"
"I'll go," the older lady raises a hand, reaching inside her pocket and throwing Laura her car keys. "You can meet us at the hospital after you call Erica."
"I will," Laura says, walking out with them - much to the owner's happiness - as Stiles and Danny take Boyd to the ambulance.
Or rather, push the wheeled chair he's sitting on all the way to the ambulance until they can get the stretcher out and help him move.
"You can climb up, ma'am," Stiles offers a hand to the woman as she hoists herself up and sits beside Boyd.
"Thank you," she says, giving him a smile before turning to Laura. "Don't forget: call Erica."
"I won't," Laura rolls her eyes as Stiles closes one side of the ambulance door and gets in. "Bye, Stiles," Laura waves at him, and just as he's about to close the other door and give Danny the okay to drive, she adds, "Bye, mom!"
Stiles is pretty sure the only reason he doesn't fall face down on the ambulance floor from pure shock is because he's already practically sitting down when he hears her, so he just ends up flopping heavily down on his ass, Laura cackling maniacally in the background as Danny takes off.
He's counting his luck when no one says anything after the first five minutes of driving, but judging by the way Boyd and Laura's - Derek's - mom keep looking at him, he knows it's not going to last long.
What surprises him is that Boyd is the one to break the silence.
"You're Derek's."
Stiles blinks at him, waiting for the rest of the sentence.
When that doesn't come, he just gapes at Boyd for a little bit, cheeks reddening as he sees Derek's mom tilt her head to the side and give him a considering look.
"I don't-," Stiles shakes his head, at a loss for what to say.
"What he meant is," Derek's mom says. "You're the one who rode with Derek on the Egg Run, right? And the EMT who drove him to the hospital when the accident happened?"
"Yep," Stiles nods, mouth dry. "That's me," he offers her a shaky smile. "Stiles."
"Well, Stiles," her lips twitch up. "I'm Talia, Derek's mother."
"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Stiles says slowly, trying to ignore the "Oh my god" Danny lets out all the way over the driver's seat.
"There's no need to call me that," she waves a hand in front of her. "Especially when you're the one who took care of my son when he was hurt."
"There's no need to thank me," Stiles shakes his head. "I was just doing my job."
"Then I guess I have to say you're very good at what you do," she smiles sweetly at him, ignoring the way Stiles' blush deepens as she continues. "Derek's mentioned you. And so did Laura."
"Whatever Laura said about me was a lie," Stiles blurts out before he can stop himself.
Mrs. Hale just laughs at him, her entire body shaking, and even Boyd manages to crack a smile.
"I'll make no apologies for my daughter," Mrs. Hale says, still laughing a little. "We all know she can be quite..."
"Something?" Stiles offers, snickering despite himself.
"Yes, I suppose you can call her that," Mrs. Hale agrees, looking thoughtful. "But she had nice things to say about you," and at Stiles alarmed expression she explains, "Like how you came to check up on Derek at the hospital. And told him to ice his shoulders to help with the stiffness."
Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times, not really knowing what to say.
"She also said you were cute," Boyd pipes up, and Stiles doesn't fight the urge to bury his face in his hands this time.
"She was right," Mrs. Hale teases, enjoying Stiles' embarrassment. "I always knew my children had good taste."
Stiles' head snaps up at that. "Children?"
"Derek didn't disagree," Boyd explains. "His actual words were 'he's not just cute, he's...'"
"He's...?" Stiles leans on the edge of his seat.
"He kind of stopped at that," Boyd shrugs. "Although, he did make a lot of hand gestures."
Danny lets out another "Oh my god" at that, but this one is accompanied by the faint sounds of laughter.
"My son is not really the best with words," Mrs. Hale clicks her tongue. "He's more of a man of action."
Stiles doesn't particularly like the way her eyes twinkle dangerously at that, and neither does he appreciate the smirk on Boyd's face and the third choked-up "Oh my god" he hears from Danny.
"Well," Stiles starts, not really knowing how to finish his thought.
He's being doing that a lot in this conversation.
And it's not like he has that many other thoughts other than oh my god and why is this happening and oh my god.
And not that he needs to, really, when Danny parks the ambulance in front of the hospital and says, "We're here."
Stiles opens the door as he waits for Danny to round the car and help him with Boyd. There's a team there already waiting for them, and when the doctor places a hand on Boyd's arm to get him to remove the cloth so he can see the wound Stiles focuses on telling him what happened and not dying of embarrassment.
Mrs. Hale doesn't immediately follow after Boyd, instead coming up to both Danny and Stiles, patting them on the cheek and thanking them for their services.
So Stiles is practically slumping with relief when she lingers in front of him and says, "I'll make sure to mention to your dad what a wonderful son he raised when we have lunch together tomorrow," before finally walking away.
He doesn't know what he should freak out about first: the fact that he just met Derek's mom by accident, or that she knows his dad, or that they're going to have lunch together. In the end he just does all three, grabbing his cell from his pocket.
To: Derek
derek
To: Derek
DEREK
To: Derek
i just met your mom?
To: Dad
couldn't you have mentioned you're going to have lunch with DEREK'S MOTHER tomorrow?
To: Dad
or that you even know her in the first place?
To: Dad
i thought you loved me!
And as he puts his phone away it's only to find Danny staring at him, hands deep in his pockets as he rocks on his heels and does absolutely nothing to keep a grin off his face.
Even his dimples are showing.
"I never thought that getting paired up with you would bring me such," Danny struggles with his words, grin deepening. "Happiness in life."
Stiles closes his eyes and bites down hard on his bottom lip.
He refuses to talk about it.
He refuses to acknowledge that this happened.
He even refuses to think about any of this until he's in the comfort of his own home and can have a panic attack without anyone being there to witness it.
"You know," Danny sighs, resting a hand against his shoulder when he sees lost look on Stiles' face. "Why don't you go lie down on the stretcher while I drive us around for a little bit instead of going straight back to the firehouse?"
Stiles nods numbly at Danny, climbing in the back while Danny closes the doors behind him, getting one of the emergency blankets and wrapping himself in it before lying down. He knows he must look as pathetic as he feels when Danny doesn't comment on it, settling for starting the ambulance.
His phone starts buzzing in his pocket, and Stiles is almost afraid to see who's texting.
From: Dad
The only person I'm having lunch tomorrow is Talia Hale. She's close to opening a bar in town and invited me to lunch so we could talk about it. I have no idea if she's Derek's mother or not because you never mentioned his last name. And I do love you even though you can be a pain in my ass sometimes. Now go back to work. - Dad
Stiles purses his lips as he reads his dad's text, taking a moment to smile at the way he signed his, well, not really his name, at the end. He sends back a quick I love you too, followed by a I'll call you later.
He wonders if Derek will freak out when finds out that Stiles met his mother. If he'll feel as embarrassed as Stiles would have if the situations were reversed, because Stiles knows no one should be subjected to his dad without a little warning and maybe having some drinks first.
He gets his answers a couple of minutes later, his phone vibrating incessantly in his palm.
From: Derek
WHAT?
From: Derek
YOU DID WHAT?
From: Derek
ARE YOU OKAY?
Stiles starts typing out an answer and mocking Derek for use of capslock, getting interrupted when his phone starts ringing. He almost lets it drop when he sees Derek's name flashing on the screen, and it still takes him a couple of seconds to get his fingers to stop shaking so he can answer the call.
"Stop freaking out."
Because Derek actually picking up the phone and calling him must mean he's not in his right mind.
And that's not what Stiles needs right now.
Stiles can hear Derek sputter on the other side of the phone before he grits his teeth together and says, "You stop freaking out."
"Excuse me," Stiles snaps. "I just met your mother at a hardware store while I was treating Boyd, who I'm assuming is one of your best friends, for a head injury because a grinder fell on his head. And, like that's not horrible enough, Laura was there. So don't tell me to stop freaking out! I have a right to be freaked out right now."
Stiles is breathing hard by the time he's done, free hand twisted against the emergency blanket as he glares at the supply shelf of the ambulance.
"A grinder fell on his head?"
"That's what you're seriously focusing on?" Stiles hisses, body tense as he hears Derek sigh on the other side.
"I'm sorry," Derek says quietly.
Stiles blinks when he doesn't say anything else, the sound of Derek's breathing the only hint that he didn't hang up the phone.
"Well," Stiles says slowly, feeling slightly off balance about being on the phone with Derek. "Aren't you going to ask me how he is?"
"I thought I wasn't supposed to be focusing on that."
"Don't be cute with me," Stiles warns him. "I'm not exactly in my right mind right now."
"When are you ever?" and Stiles can almost see Derek rolling his eyes.
"You don't even know me."
And at the silence that follows, Stiles wishes he could take his words back.
He didn't mean then, not really, but it's not like they aren't true.
"I'm sorry," it's Stiles who says it this time. "I shouldn't have said that."
"It's not like you're lying," Derek answered, sounding resigned.
"I know, but-" Stiles swallows hard, fingers playing with the hem of his blanket as he tries again. "I know, but tonight's supposed to fix that. And we've been texting each other for a while now, so it's not like we don't know anything about each other."
"Stiles," Derek sighs, but Stiles keeps going.
"And you called me, which, I know you only did because you were freaking out, but that's still progress, right?" Stiles cringes at how uncertain he sounds, so he clears his throat, takes a deep breath, and says, "And I want to get to know you. And I want you to get to know me. And I want you to be able to make a joke like that and mean it. So I'm sorry I said it. And I'm sorry I yelled at you."
"You were freaking out," Derek says slowly. "Because you met my mother. That's understandable."
"Still doesn't mean I get to be a dick to you," Stiles mutters, lips curling up when he hears the faint sound of what could be a chuckle.
Coming from Derek, he knows that's pretty huge.
"How is Boyd, though?" Derek asks, worried.
"We got him to the hospital," Stiles tells him, because really, it's not like he knows more about how Boyd is then what he already told Derek. "If you haven't heard anything from anyone yet, then it means he's okay. And your mom drove in the ambulance with us."
"And Laura?"
"She was supposed to call someone before going, too," Stiles frowns. "A girl, I think?"
"Erica," Derek supplies. "She's Boyd's girlfriend. And you're right. If I can't hear any screaming or crying then it's because there's nothing to worry about."
"Are you going to go the hospital anyway?"
"Yeah, but I need to finish this conversation first."
"Okay."
"You met my mother," Derek says, and Stiles can almost taste the dread in Derek's voice on his tongue.
"Yep."
Stiles doesn't offer anything else, making Derek huff and say, "Stiles. You- I- I need more than that."
Stiles takes a deep breath before giving him more.
"She was nice?" Stiles winces. He didn't mean it to come out as a question. "I mean, I did meet her while your friend was bleeding from the head and your sister was trying to rip someone a new asshole, but she seemed like a pretty nice lady. And she was really calm while Boyd just sat there with blood oozing from his head, which kind of makes me wonder about your family and the kind of stuff you guys get into," Stiles muses out loud. "But she seemed okay, aside from, you know, the entire situation being super embarrassing because as it turns out she knows my dad. And she obviously knew who I was because, apparently, Laura mentioned me? And so did you?" Stiles hears Derek curse under his breath, and he can't really help the teasing tone his voice takes next. "My sources tell me Laura thinks I'm cute. And that you agree."
"I-," Derek tries to interrupt, but Stiles doesn't give him a chance.
"Which works fine for me, to be honest," he says, voice low. "More than fine, actually."
He hears Derek clear his throat and the sound of fabric shuffling. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Stiles breathes out. "Definitely."
Derek clears his throat again, swallowing hard before he says, "I- Me- I can't wait to see you tonight."
The smile that splits Stiles' face right then goes up to his ears, and only half of it is because how endearing Derek sounds when he chokes up.
"Me too," he whispers. "But can't you at least tell me what we're doing?"
"No," Derek says. "That's not how surprises work."
"That could be how our surprises work," Stiles pipes up, smile widening. "Our thing. We could have a thing, Derek."
"That thing being surprises not being surprises," Derek says flatly.
"You're getting it," Stiles congratulates him. "Now tell me about it."
"No."
Stiles gapes at the phone.
"I'll see you tonight, okay?" Derek tells him. "I have to get to the hospital and make sure everyone's okay."
Well, Stiles can't really argue with that.
"Yeah, sure," Stiles sighs, put out. "And if I hate your surprise I'll make sure to tell you as much and not shut up about it."
Derek snorts. "Can't wait."
"Me neither," Stiles says quietly.
"See you later."
"Later."
Stiles hangs up and takes a deep breath, throwing the blanket off of him before getting up and climbing over the passenger's side seat.
"Take it you're feeling better," Danny eyes him as he buckles his seatbelt.
"Don't even try to pretend you weren't listening in to the conversation."
"Okay," Danny smiles at him. "So, you're feeling better."
Stiles purses his lips together and gives him an unperceptive nod.
"Good," Danny says. "I'm not your personal driver."
Stiles leans over and smacks a kiss on Danny's cheek. "Thanks."
Danny makes a face at him but doesn't say anything, just keeps takes a turn and starts driving them back to the firehouse.
Jackson and Scott are sitting at the kitchen playing cards, the rest of the company occupying the kitchen and living room area, and neither of them looks up from their hands when both Danny and Stiles take the chairs beside them.
Stiles is waiting for Danny to tell them about what happened, but for once he keeps his mouth just and just offers Stiles a small smile when he frowns at him in confusion.
"I'm going to make you a sandwich," Stiles announces as he gets up, clasping a hand on Danny's shoulder when he walks by him to get to the fridge.
"I want mine with no mayo," Jackson calls out, narrowing his eyes at Scott as they continue to play.
"Peanut butter," Scott adds as he smiles smugly back at him.
"No one asked you," Stiles throws over his shoulder at both of them, oblivious to the way Danny leans back against his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
There's some complaining and grumbling from both Scott and Jackson at that, and even though Stiles only planned on making something for Danny as a thank you, he still grabs the condiments to make the others some snacks.
He actually goes as far as grabbing them drinks, too, setting everything down on the table after he's done.
"Thanks, man," Scott tells him, punching him lightly in the shoulder.
"No problem," Stiles waves a hand in front of him, opening the watter bottle he grabbed for himself.
Danny gives him a thankful nod while Jackson just looks suspiciously down at his sandwich before taking a bite, and judging by how slowly he's chewing Stiles thinks he must be expecting to find something other than food there.
To be fair, it wouldn't be the first time Stiles made him something to eat with something, well, extra.
They spend the next three hours without getting any calls.
And, again, Stiles shouldn't feel bad about having nothing to do other than hang around the firehouse playing cards and emptying the fridge, but there's still part of him that hopes for something exciting to happen.
He should know better than wish for things like that, because when they do happen is in the worst possible way imaginable and not at all like he expected them to go.
Because when he hopes for someone to get out of the house and accidentally leave the iron on, what he gets is a text from Derek that makes his stomach drop to his feet.
From: Derek
Still at the hospital. Boyd's not doing so good.
From: Derek
I might have to cancel tonight.
Stiles blinks down at him phone, heart beating faster as he types out an answer.
To: Derek
! what happened?
"Stiles?" Scott asks, turning on his seat to he can stare directly into the side of Stiles face.
Danny leans forward on his chair, elbows braced on the table as his eyes rake over Stiles' face. "Derek?"
Stiles shakes his head. "He's okay, but he said he's still at the hospital with Boyd. Something's wrong."
"His head injury might have been worse than we thought."
Stiles snorts at that.
No fucking shit.
"Hey," Danny reaches a hand and grips his wrist, squeezing. "You know how tricky these type of injuries are. He might not have shown signs of anything until days of it happening."
Stiles presses his lips together and shakes his head.
"There's nothing you could have done, man," Scott rests his hand against the back of Stiles' neck.
He appreciates what they're trying to do. It means they know how he functions and they know he's halfway down the road of self-blame and guilt, thinking that if he'd just done something different or maybe payed more attention he would have known something was wrong and could have done something about it.
Never mind that he's just an EMT and can't really do anything about serious head injuries, but still.
"I'm worried for Derek," Stiles says, biting down on his lower lip and ignoring the looks his friends give each other.
"I'm sure he's fine, dude," Scott reassures him, or at least tries to.
It doesn't really work.
"Would you be okay if a grinder fell on my head and I went the hospital and they found out there was something wrong with me?"
"We already know there's something wrong with you," Jackson says casually, shuffling the deck of cards they left on the table.
Stiles is so stunned by Jackson's indifference to someone Stiles cares about being possibly not okay that it takes him a few seconds to process what he heard.
And then he's throwing his head back and bursting into laughter.
Because this is so much like Jackson, always making snide comments about Stiles or mocking him or really just being a huge fucking pain in Stiles' ass that it kind of makes him feel a little more grounded.
If Jackson's being a dick then it means things aren't as bad as he thinks.
And then his phone buzzes again, cutting his laughter short.
From: Derek
Seizure.
When nothing comes after that Stiles just sends out ? and waits.
Scott and Danny are still looking at him with worried expressions on their faces, and Stiles takes a deep breath and tries not to look too much like his heart is about to leap from his chest and tries to offer them a smile.
Scott just frowns deeper at him, while Danny sighs and gets up, rummaging through the kitchen trying to get the Reese's they hid from Chief Finstock in one of the cupboards.
"Why are you so worried?" Scott asks after staring pointedly at Jackson until he trails after Danny.
"Because Boyd might have brain damage," Stiles says the words slowly, not understanding why Scott is even asking him this.
"Yeah, but you don't even know him."
Stiles stares blankly at him.
Because even though he wants to punch his best friend in the face right now, he also has a point.
Stiles doesn't know Boyd.
And yeah, Stiles still would feel about someone possibly having a serious brain injury, but he wouldn't be this worked up about it.
But, the only thing he knows about Boyd is that he's important to Derek.
And Derek is important to him.
And that's enough for him to want to get on his Jeep and drive to the hospital and make sure everything's okay.
And-
Oh.
Oh.
Derek's important to him.
He's so important to him that the mere thought that he might be feeling hurt or worried or sad makes Stiles want to break something.
Mostly whatever it is that's making Derek feel those things.
"You're having an epiphany right now, aren't you?' Scott sighs heavily.
"Yep."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Stiles takes a couple of deep breaths, not really knowing if he does.
In the end what he comes out with is, "How did you know Allison was the one for you?"
Scott tilts his head to the side and gives him a considering look, blinking a couple of times before shrugging, a small smile playing on his lips as he says, "I just knew."
"You just knew," Stiles repeats, because that's not helpful at all.
"Yeah," Scott breathes out. "It was like I took one look at her and saw all that we could be. Like, how great we could be together if we got the chance. She must have spoken three words to me but they were enough for me to want to have other conversations with her. About everything, anything. They were enough for me to like her and want to get to know her and not let her walk out of my life."
Stiles' sharp intake of breath makes Scott glance up at him, his eyes widening in understanding before his entire face softens.
"Derek?"
"Yes, Derek," Stiles says quietly, voice cracking at Derek's name.
"At first," Scott starts, lowering his voice before he continues. "At first I didn't know what it was. I thought I couldn't love someone after fifteen minutes of knowing them, not when my mom had my dad for seven years and he still chose to walk away from us."
"Buddy," Stiles starts softly, stopping when Scott shakes his head.
"It took me a long time to admit to myself who Allison was to me," Scott continues. "That she was the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Because as much as I wanted to be that to her and her to me, I was scared out of my fucking mind that she wouldn't think or feel the same way."
"But she does."
"Yeah," Scott beams, eyes glinting.
"I'm glad you have that," Stiles tells him honestly, because if there's one person Stiles knows who deserves to find the love of his life that person is Scott.
"But I didn't know if she did until I talked to her," Scott raises an eyebrow at Stiles. "It was my mom who told me you should always tell a girl how you feel, because they like to hear it. And I know neither you or Derek are girls, but I think it applies for you, too."
Stiles lets out a snort at that, grinning at Scott before pulling him into a hug.
"Thanks, buddy."
"Don't thank me," Scott says, pointing a finger at him when they let go. "Talk to Derek."
"Don't you think it's too soon, though?" Stiles worries at him bottom lip. "I mean, we haven't even gone out on a date. I don't even know if we still are, with Boyd at the hospital."
"Maybe you should stop by, then," Scott suggest. "Be there for him."
"His whole family must be there," Stiles shakes his head. "I don't think I'd be welcomed."
"Then call him," Scott says, waving a hand in front of him. "Text him. Send a message through my mom, whatever. Just let him know he can count on you if he needs to."
"You're a good friend, Scott," Stiles tells him seriously, and then because he's Stiles, "I'm glad I shared my crayons with you."
"Me too, man," Scott laughs. "Me too."
"Are you two done getting your feelings all over each other?" Jackson calls out from the kitchen.
"No!" both Stiles and Scott yell in unison, snickering when Jackson walks back to the table with a scowl on his face.
Danny follows soon after and throws at Reese's at Stiles head.
"I love you," Stiles blows him a kiss.
Danny just rolls his eyes at him, sitting back down on the table.
The carefree mood they have going on breaks when Stiles' phone vibrates on the table, making them all turn to it with both expectant and dreadful look on their faces.
Stiles grabs it with one hand, unlocking the screen and reading over Derek's message.
From: Derek
He has internal bleeding and it keeps putting pressure on his brain, so they have to drain it and
From: Derek
He's going into surgery now
Stiles relays Derek's text to the others, Scott's eyes going comically wide when Danny starts explaining to him how they're going to have to drill a hole into Boyd's skull to drain out the blood so the pressure against his brain stops.
To: Derek
okay and i know it doesn't count for much but he's going to be fine derek. he got help in time and everything is going to turn out okay really
To: Derek
i'll let you go now but if you need anything just call me. i'll answer or come to you or whatever just if you need me i'm here
"Can our shift be over already?" Stiles groans as he places his phone back on the table and lets out a slow breath through his lips, running a hand through his hair.
"Just a couple more hours and we're good," Danny says.
"Ugh," Stiles grunts, resting his elbows on the table and dropping his head in his hands.
He barely moves when his phone vibrates again, letting Danny slide it over with a finger until he can see the screen.
From: Derek
Thank you.
From: Derek
And I'm sorry about tonight, I really wanted to see you.
From: Derek
We'll talk later.
Stiles smiles sadly down at his phone, swallowing around the lump in his throat as blackens the screen and puts it back in his pocket.
If Danny, Jackson, and Scott notice how Stiles doesn't really object when Jackson calls him a dick for throwing a candy wrapper at his head, none of them say anything.
And if Stiles gets home from work that night and throws himself face down on his bed and screams into his pillow, no one needs to know.
And if later when his phone buzzes the warm feeling in his chest chest comes back full force and he breathes out a sigh of relief as he reads Derek's text and smiles softly down at his phone, well, he's sort of in love.
He's allowed.
From: Derek
Boyd's out of surgery. The doctors say everything went fine, but we still have to wait until he wakes up to see if there's any damage. Thanks for tonight. For your offer. It meant more than you know.
From: Derek
And I promise I'll make it up to you.
From: Derek
Night, Bunny.
"How was your lunch with Mrs. Hale?" Stiles asks as flops down on the couch next to his dad, offering him a beer.
The Sheriff side-eyes him before taking a sip, taking his sweet time with answering.
Sometimes Stiles thinks his dad just likes to see him squirm.
"If you must know," his dad says slowly, shifting on the couch until he finds a more comfortable position. "She had to cancel."
"I thought Boyd was okay," Stiles frowns at his dad, reaching a hand into his pocket and fishing out his phone.
Derek had sent him a number of texts since Stiles first woke up and asked him for updates about Boyd and if he needed anything. Most of them were assuring him that Boyd was okay-
From: Derek
Laura started calling him Vernon and asking him to wake up and next thing we know he's opening his eyes and telling her to shut the fuck up.
From: Derek
I think my mom started crying.
From: Derek
You know, after she stopped laughing at Laura.
-and that he didn't need anything except for Boyd to get better.
From: Derek
I don't need anything.
From: Derek
Uncle Peter doesn't really like hospitals, so he offered to gets us whatever we might need.
From: Derek
Laura asked for tampons.
From: Derek
Isaac asked for condoms.
From: Derek
I don't want to be related to any of them anymore.
And maybe get some sleep.
From: Derek
I wish I could go back to my apartment and not have the risk of waking up with a dick drawn on my face if I end up falling asleep.
From: Derek
I'm so fucking tired.
There was a text or maybe two about them trying to meet up again, Derek now even more determined than he was before about making sure their first date was nothing short of amazing. He even went as far as ignoring Stiles' texts when he said that he'd be okay with going out for burgers and maybe watching a movie later.
To: Derek
are you seriously ignoring me because i said i'm a cheap date?
To: Derek
you should be happy about not having to spend money to impress me
To: Derek
derek
To: Derek
derek?
To: Derek
omg okay fine you can take me whatever you want i don't care
To: Derek
i just want to see you
And since as far as Stiles knows everything is okay, he thinks there's really no reason for Derek's mom to cancel on the lunch date unless something happened to Boyd.
"Boyd?"
"Yeah," Stiles says, scrolling down his phone. "He's Derek's friend and he got hit on the head by a grinder and there were some complications and he had to have surgery so they could drain the blood off his head."
The Sheriff plucks Stiles' phone from his hand just as Stiles is about to call Derek.
"Wha- Dad!" Stiles sputters, trying to get his phone back only to have his dad sit on top of it.
"Explain," the Sheriff demands, crossing his arms over his chest.
Stiles runs a hand through his hair and tries to calm down, telling his dad the entire story.
"So I need to know if everything's okay," Stiles tells him, extending his hand and waiting for his dad to give him back his cell.
"I'm sure if it wasn't you would have heard about it by now," his dad says. "And she did infact cancel because someone in her family was in an accident."
"Boyd."
"Yes, Boyd," his dad nods. "I have to say, Stiles, I'm kind of relieved to know it wasn't another bike accident."
Stiles rolls his eyes at his dad.
"I don't know why you have such a problem with them."
"They're a menace."
"I'm a menace and you love me," Stiles smiles brightly at him.
It's the Sheriff's turn to roll his eyes this time, getting a hand on the back of Stiles' neck and pulling him into a hug.
"You're my son," he says. "It's not like I have much choice."
"I feeling so loved right now," Stiles deadpans, smiling against his dad's shoulder when he feels them shaking with silent laughter.
"Speaking of which," his dad says as he lets him go. "How are things with you and Derek? I know you didn't see each other last night."
Stiles sighs, lips pursing together.
He's not pouting.
Really.
He's not.
The Sheriff just raises both of his eyebrows at him, waiting patiently for him to stop feeling sorry for himself and respond.
And Stiles knows that he and Derek didn't see each other because one of his friends was in the hospital, but he still feels sad about it.
He was really looking forward to their date, to see what surprise Derek had in store for them.
Especially if it involved ending the night with both of them naked and fucked out of their minds.
Stiles' own hand and the memory of Derek's warm body pressed against his chest is just not good enough.
"Things are good," is all Stiles answers.
"Good?"
"Well, yeah," Stiles shrugs, because they are. "But it's not like we had that much time to talk since, you know, Boyd."
"He hasn't said anything about seeing you again?" the Sheriff frowns, lips pressed in a hard line.
"He did," Stiles reassures his dad. "We just haven't had the time to talk about any specifics yet. Especially since he said he wants to make it up to me."
The Sheriff makes a face at that, a mix between horror and disgust, and Stiles can't really help the laugh he lets out.
"I don't think I want to have this conversation anymore," his dad says, grabbing the remote from the arm of the couch and turning the tv on.
"But dad," Stiles starts, grinning wickedly. "I don't know if by make it up to me Derek means taking me out to dinner or taking my out to a ride on his-"
The Sheriff turns the volume all the way up, refusing to stare at Stiles.
"-bike!" Stiles finishes, screaming over the sound of the tv before collapsing on himself and laughing until tears form in his eyes.
His dad takes away his beer for that.
And eats all the chips Stiles brought with him.
Stiles doesn't regret it.
He's been waiting for a moment like this since he caught his dad and Mrs. McCall making out on the couch.
So he just smiles widely at the Sheriff before leaning back more comfortably against the couch and saying, "Love you, Dad."
He sees his dad shaking his head from the corner of his eye, the small smile playing on his lips as he says, "Love you, too, son."
Stiles gets out of the shower to see his phone light up on his bed, announcing he has a new text message.
He drops the towel wrapped around his waist and picks the phone up with a hand, not really looking at the screen.
He goes for his underwear drawer first, grabbing a pair of boxers with his free hand, starting to slide them on as he unlocks his phone and starts reading the text.
Next thing he knows he's sprawled on the floor, one side of the boxers halfway up one of his thighs and the other stuck on his foot, with a dazed sort of look on his face and the beginning of smile forming in his lips.
From: Derek
Next Friday night.
From: Derek
You and me.
From: Derek
I won't take no for an answer.
Stiles licks his lips as he types out an answer, closing his eyes as soon as he sends it and hoping Derek will be okay with this.
To: Derek
as long as you don't mind if i jump you the second i see you
From: Derek
I'm counting on it.
From: Derek
I'm tired of waiting, Stiles.
"Oh god," Stiles murmurs as he reads and rereads Derek's messages, his cock taking an interest in what's happening.
And who knew Stiles would start getting turned on by a text message telling him someone wants to kiss him.
It's like he's sixteen again and the mere thought of someone's lips against his own, their tongue in his mouth, rough stubble scratching against his chin and down his neck, teeth closing over the skin of his neck and-
From: Derek
Stiles?
"Fuck," Stiles curses under his breath as he starts answering, his dick now definitely on board with where the night is going.
To: Derek
god derek me too
To: Derek
yes yes friday we'll see each other friday
To: Derek
no more waiting
From: Derek
Good.
From: Derek
Night, Bunny.
Stiles lets out a breathless laugh as he reads that, smiling down at his phone.
To: Derek
night derek 3
And if he throws his phone on the floor and gets a hand around his dick and jerks off right there, no one needs to know.