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Stiles stared at the clock on the wall, willing it to move faster. He'd been here since 2 and he was going to be here until 10, and he was starving. Not to mention the Beacon Lanes Bowling Alley was inexplicably dead right now, but Finstock had forbidden him from taking his dinner break any earlier than 7:15.

It was 7:12 and Stiles was ready to eat through the front counter. He knew he should've had more than curly fries for lunch.

But that was all right, he was just three—no, two now—minutes from delicious pizza and nachos, and then he'd be set until the end of the night.

The clock ticked over to 7:14 and Stiles bounced on his feet. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon..."

A wadded-up piece of paper hit him in the back of the head, and Stiles jerked around. Unsurprisingly, Isaac was leaning against the counter a few feet away with an easy grin on his face. "No matter how much you stare at the clock, it won't move any faster."

Stiles scowled and tossed the paper back at him, but Isaac dodged it. "Easy for you to say," Stiles said. "You only got here an hour ago. I'm wasting away!"

Isaac rolled his eyes. "You're such a drama queen. How does Scott put up with you?"

Stiles stuck out his tongue. "Says the douche who wears a scarf to work every day. When it's 70 degrees outside."

Isaac flicked a paperclip at him and jerked his chin at the clock. "Oh, look, it's 7:16."

Stiles punched the air and launched himself over the counter. "WOOHOO! Back in an hour!"

He was halfway to the break room when he heard Isaac say, "Hi, Laura!"

Laura? Stiles screeched to a stop and turned. Sure enough, that was Laura Hale, which meant—

Stiles scrambled back over to the counter and was behind the register just as Laura's brother, Derek—better known as tall, dark, and devastatingly hot—stepped up to the counter.

"Derek!" Stiles pasted on his brightest smile. "So good to see you again!"

Derek, he of the ink-black hair and multi-colored eyes and the most expressive eyebrows in the world, just kind of glowered at him. "Stiles."

"I thought you were on break?" Isaac said.

Stiles kicked at his ankle and hoped Derek didn't notice. "Not for another ten minutes. Let me get you guys set up. Isaac, go get a men's size ten and a ladies' nine."

Isaac grumbled, but he went, though not without giving Stiles a significant look that Stiles studiously ignored.

He tapped at his computer screen. "Lane six okay?"

Derek grunted. "Six is fine."

Laura slung her arm around Derek's shoulder. "Oh, don't be such a grumpy-pants, Derek. You've been looking forward to bowling night all week."

If possible, Derek's glower deepened even further, and he turned it on his sister. "I've been looking forward to watching you and Cora throw gutter balls. It's my favorite time of the week."

Laura stuck out her tongue and poked him. "Just for that, you're going to do the grocery shopping for a month if I win."

Derek rolled his eyes. "I already do all the grocery shopping."

Stiles bit his lip to keep from laughing at the sibling banter, and entered Derek and Laura into the system for a game on lane six. "Is Cora coming tonight?"

"Yeah, she'll be here for the next couple of games." Laura waved a hand dismissively. "Something about hanging out with her new roommates being more important than our Hale sibling bonding time."

"Cool. We'll get her added as soon as she gets here." Stiles slapped the front counter and nodded toward lane six. "You guys are all ready!"

He waited with bated breath as Derek and Laura turned to look at the screen over lane six, where the players listed were Laura and—

"Foo Foo Cuddly Poof?" Derek said, a tinge of disbelief in his voice.

Laura cackled.

Stiles crossed his arms and leaned over the counter. "What can I say? I've been binge-watching Avatar: The Last Airbender. And that was a good episode."

Derek dragged a hand over his face. The tips of his ears turned adorably pink. "Oh, for God's sake."

Laura was still cackling. "C'mon, Foo Foo. I'm gonna kick your ass in this game."

"I hate you," Derek muttered, but he followed her over to the lane, pausing only to send Stiles another death glare over his shoulder.

Stiles grinned and winked back.

Derek jerked his head around so fast it was a wonder he didn't break something.

"You know, most people ask their crushes for coffee," Isaac said.

"Most people don't have to worry about their crushes murdering them and dumping their body in the river." Stiles patted Isaac's shoulder. "And now, I'm off to get some food before I eat the register."

***

It had started as a bit of passive-aggressive revenge the first time the Hales had come into the bowling alley. For reasons which Stiles still didn't understand, Derek had been the one elected to interact with him, and his part of the conversation had consisted almost entirely of grunts and glares, no matter how hard Stiles tried to get just a single multisyllabic answer out of him.

"Oh, come on, Glarek, give him a break," Laura had said, and. Well.

Stiles had a bad habit of acting before he really thought about it, and he was already irritated by Derek's demeanor, so yeah. Maybe he put "Glarek" in for Derek's name, and maybe he'd taken some vicious pleasure in how loud Laura and Cora laughed. Derek had come stomping back up to the desk and Stiles put his best innocent face on.

Derek growled. "That's not my name."

Stiles didn't even bat an eye. He was at least 75% sure Derek wouldn't murder him in the middle of the bowling alley. "I'm sorry, sir, that's what your sister gave me."

"No, it's not. Change it."

"Change it to...?"

From the look on Derek's face, the 75% chance of nonmurder was rapidly dropping. "Derek. That's D-E-R-E-K," he spelled slowly.

Stiles might have been willing to do so, but he didn't particularly like being treated like he was stupid. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir, the game's already started. I won't be able to change it until you finish playing. Come see me before the next game."

Derek continued to glare at him, practically looming over the front desk. "Change it."

Stiles held his ground despite his certainty that he was about to die. Over a bowling game. "Like I said, I can't."

"Derek!" Laura shouted from the lane. "Get back over here so we can play!"

With a final growl, Derek shoved back from the desk and stalked back to the lane.

As soon as the game was over, Stiles changed the name from Glarek to Beardy McScruffyjaw before Derek could even get out of his chair.

Laura laughed so hard Stiles was worried they'd have to call an ambulance.

***

The next time, Derek had been wearing a leather jacket with his trademark glare, and Stiles hadn't been able to resist putting in Grumpy McLeather. The time after that, it had been Prince Broody McBroodpants because he'd just come off an LOTR & Hobbit marathon, and Stiles was pretty sure Derek's brooding could put Thorin to shame. After that, it was Dirk Hardpec, because he and Scott had been binge-watching MST3K all week.

As with every other time, Derek stomped up to the front desk, eyes narrowed like he was looking for blood. "Dirk Hardpec? Really?"

"Hey, you look like you hit the gym a few times a day," Stiles said with a shrug.

To Stiles's absolute shock, the corner of Derek's lip twitched. Like he might smile. "I thought I was more of a Big McLargehuge."

Which. What. Derek got the reference?

Stiles's brain couldn't process that. He stood there, gaping and speechless, until Derek shrugged and headed back to the lane.

Later, Stiles would realize that was the exactly moment he started to fall in love with Derek Hale.

But more importantly, he spent the next few months calling Derek every single name from Space Mutiny.

***

"Stilinski, are you ever anywhere that's not the bowling alley?"

Stiles jerked up from his seat behind the front desk to see Cora Hale striding over to him. His heart jumped in anticipation, but she was accompanied by four other girls, not her brother and sister.

Stiles was too much of a professional to let his disappointment show. He smiled broadly. "Cora, moon of my life! How are you doing?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a dork. Can you get us set up?"

Stiles winked. "You know it. And who are all these lovely ladies?"

Cora flicked her hand to the group surrounding her. "Erica, Lydia, Kira, and Allison. Erica, Lydia, and Kira are my roommates, and Allison is Lydia's girlfriend."

"Cool." Stiles tapped in the names; he recognized Lydia Martin from high school, even though it had been a few years since he'd seen her. "Erica with a c, and Allison with two l's?" Two of the girls, a blonde with a scary smile and a pale brunette with adorable dimples, nodded the affirmative. "Awesome," Stiles continued. "Now, if you'll just give me your shoe sizes—"

Out of nowhere, Scott scrambled over and damn near knocked Stiles away from register. "I've got it!"

Stiles righted himself and shot a glare in Scott's direction, because dude. Uncool. However, Scott didn't notice because he was busy making heart-eyes at Kira, who looked kind of shy compared to all the other girls.

"Or, my buddy Scott here will get all your shoes," Stiles said. "Except you, Cora, I've got yours memorized."

Stiles grabbed a pair of ladies' bowling shoes while Scott tripped all over himself getting shoes for the other girls.

"So," he dropped the shoes on the counter in front of Cora, "how's life with roommates?"

Cora gave a groan Stiles could only interpret as relieved. "So much better than living at home. You have no idea. Nobody steals my clothes because they all dress better than I do and have smaller feet. And we all get along. It's amazing. I don't know how long it'll last, but it's amazing right now."

Stiles nodded along. "Well, sounds like your roommate experience is going better than mine did."

"And I'm very lucky for it." Cora patted his arm. "They're all really great. In fact, I'm thinking of setting Kira and Derek up on a date."

Stiles choked on air. "You're what?"

"Kira. Derek. Date," Cora said slowly, giving Stiles a strange look. "Why is that so weird?"

"It's not weird, that's not what I meant." Stiles scrambled for an explanation that wasn't I'm stupidly in love with your brother and have been for months. "Derek just, you know, doesn't seem to be the type who would appreciate you or Laura setting him up."

Cora picked up her shoes and patted his arm again. "Oh, ye of little faith. I know he thinks Kira's sweet, and I'm pretty sure she thinks he's hot. It'll be great."

She sauntered away to join the group already crowding around lane five.

"Yeah," Stiles said hollowly when she was out of earshot. "Great."

***

Stiles repeatedly told himself that Cora was wrong. That Derek wouldn't want to be set up on a date by one of his sisters, come on. He totally wasn't the type to go for that. Besides, Kira wasn't that great.

Then again, Scott hadn't quit waxing poetic about her since they'd met. Stiles was beginning to debate duct-taping his mouth shut for five minutes of peace.

Regardless, Stiles spent a good solid week telling himself that there was no way Derek would say yes to a date with Kira, and he would definitely, definitely ask Derek out for coffee or something the next time the Hales came in to go bowling. He'd just have to make sure to somehow do it at a time where, you know, no one could hear it when Derek rejected him. Especially not Laura or Cora. Or Isaac. Or Finstock. Or, you know, anybody except for Scott, because Scott was the best bro and he would never make fun of Stiles.

But Laura, Cora, and Derek didn't come in for bowling that week. And on Friday night, while Stiles and Scott were playing pencil darts, Kira and Derek walked into the bowling alley. Together. Holding hands.

Stiles took one look and broke his pencil in half.

Scott grabbed his arm. "Dude. Is that Kira? With Derek?"

"No, Scotty, it's Wolverine and X-23," Stiles muttered irritably.

"Are they on a date?"

Stiles rubbed the bridge of his nose. "That would be my guess, yes."

"But—"

Whatever Scott was going to say, he didn't get a chance to finish it, because Derek and Kira were within earshot. They were both even wearing matching leather jackets. Who did that on a first date?

Wait. What if it wasn't a first date?

Well, that realization just made everything worse.

Stiles plastered a smile on his face and hoped he didn't look like his heart was currently somewhere in the vicinity of his sneakers. "Derek. Kira. Lovely to see you again. What can I do for you?"

Derek scowled a little, as usual. "We'd like to bowl," he said, though the duh went unstated.

Stiles nodded, tapped on the screen in front of him, feeling like he was just going through the motions. "Okay, looks like lane eight just opened up. Will anybody else be joining you?"

Derek shook his head. "Ah, no. Just us."

"Ah, okay." Stiles felt like a damn bobblehead doll with how much he was nodding. "Just let me grab your shoes."

As soon as he said the words, a men's size ten landed on the counter next to Stiles, along with a ladies' seven. He glanced back to see Scott glowering at Derek, which wasn't as effective as Scott probably hoped it would be, because he looked kind of like a constipated puppy.

"Or, you know, Scott will get your shoes," Stiles said, scooting over in an effort to put himself between Scott and Derek.

Derek snagged the shoes and dug his wallet out of his back pocket to pay, awkwardness vibrating in the air between them. Stiles wanted to say something, anything to get them on some kind of even ground, but the only way he knew to interact with Derek involved bad flirting, and it would be cold to do that in front of Kira. So he just kept his mouth shut.

They finished the transaction in silence, and then Derek led Kira over to the lane. Stiles watched them go, unaware that his heart could sink even further, but there it was.

Thankfully, a whole slew of people hit the register right then, and Stiles was able to keep himself busy for about ten minutes setting up lanes and getting shoes and handing out passes for pizza and beer before it died down again.

Then someone cleared their throat and Stiles nearly jumped a mile.

Derek was standing in front of the register, shifting his feet, shoulders a little bit hunched.

"Hey, man, something up?" Stiles asked lightly.

Derek jerked his chin back at the screen over lane eight. "You put my name."

"Yeah?" Stiles swallowed. "And?"

"I've been coming here for over a year and you've never once put my actual name up there," Derek said.

Stiles coughed. "Well, you know, I didn't want to confuse your poor date. Had to make sure she remembers who she's with, right?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Right."

"I can change it to something else, if you'd like," Stiles said.

Derek shook his head. "No. No, that's fine. I—" He exhaled sharply. "Never mind. Thanks, Stiles."

With that, he turned and walked back to the lane where Kira was waiting. Stiles finally gave in and thunked his head against the desk a couple of times.

***

Torture. That's what it was. Watching Derek on a date with someone else—especially someone like Kira—was a special kind of torture that Stiles really didn't deserve.

Well, okay, he did. There was way too much physical evidence to the contrary.

Scott, on the other hand, did not seem to be suffering the same kind of angst about it that Stiles was. Maybe that was because he'd only been pining after Kira for a week as opposed to the months Stiles had been pining after Derek. Stiles, of course, was more than willing to exploit this.

"Scotty, buddy, pal, brother, will you take these drinks over to lane eight?" Stiles asked.

Scott frowned. "Well, sure, but—"

"Thanks, man!" Stiles said, and went back to cleaning the shoes.

He wasn't above watching out of the corner of his eye, though, checking to see how Derek and Kira reacted to Scott and the interruption to their date. Neither of them appeared particularly put out about it, which was good, right?

Then, as Scott was heading back to the kitchen to return the tray, Stiles heard a loud, deep-throated laughter he'd never heard before. He whipped his head around to see Derek with his head thrown back, laughing out loud. It was the most beautiful thing Stiles had ever seen.

Kira had made him laugh.

Stiles wanted to melt into a bitter little puddle.

***

They were on their third game. Third game. Derek only stayed that long with his sisters. Oh God. They were getting along great.

Of course, that didn't stop Stiles from asking Scott for an update every time he came back from taking food and beer to the lanes. Clearly he was a masochist; that was the only explanation.

"It's still going well?" Scott gave him a confused look. "Derek's been really nice to her. Which is good, because Kira deserves to have someone being nice to her. I thought he'd be too hung up on you."

Stiles whipped his head around so hard he thought he heard something in his neck snap. "What?"

"Dude." Scott raised his eyebrows in something that would have been judgment, if he were capable of that. "Come on. You know he has a thing for you."

"No," Stiles said evenly. "No, no, I did not, and he does not, because he looks at me like he's debating the best way to strangle me and hide my body!"

"He definitely wants to do something to your body," Scott muttered. "Come on, dude, you've been flirting with him for months. He probably got tired waiting for you to make a move."

Stiles gaped like a fish. "Are you saying this is my fault?"

"I'm saying if you had sucked it up and asked him out for coffee three months ago, you two would be sucking face and I might have a chance with Kira," Scott said placidly.

"You lose all best friend privileges," Stiles snapped.

Scott rolled his eyes. "No, I don't."

Before Stiles could retort (and his retort was scathing), Derek came up to the desk. "Hey, I think our balls are stuck."

Stiles's entire brain screeched to a halt. It wasn't like he hadn't heard it before—he'd been working at the bowling alley during the summers since high school, and he still laughed every time he had to say "balls"—but hearing the words "balls" and "stuck" come out of Derek's mouth did something else entirely to him. "What?"

"Our balls," Derek repeated, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I think they're stuck or something, because they haven't come back."

"Well, sounds like you've got yourself a back end ball jam, there," Stiles said, and seriously, there was no way not to make that sound like a sexual innuendo. None whatsoever.

Derek flushed bright pink. "Well, can you fix it?"

Scott clapped his hand on Stiles's shoulder. "Oh, I assure you, Stiles is the best at fixing back end ball jams. He'll get in there and unjam those balls for you super-fast."

Stiles was going to kill his best friend. "Thanks for that vote of confidence, Scott."

Scott gave him an exaggerated thumbs-up.

If possible, Derek was even redder than he had been before. "Great. Um. I'm just going to go back and wait. For you to...get the balls out."

As soon as Derek was out of earshot, Stiles smacked Scott on the shoulder. "Thanks, asshole."

Scott shrugged, clearly unconcerned. "You made me take them all their food."

Stiles grumbled. "Okay, fine, point. I'll go unjam the freaking balls."

***

Stiles debated bribing someone else to go fix the ball jam for all of thirty seconds when he remembered he owed Scott, and it would be totally worth it to be able to bring up "Remember how I helped unjam your balls?" in front of Derek's sisters. If nothing else, Laura would find that hilarious.

It didn't take him long to pick his way over to the area behind lane eight and get the two bowling balls out, and make sure nothing else was obstructing the ball return or the pinsetter. Stiles wasn't sure if he'd survive it if Derek had to come back and ask him to fix a ball jam again.

Stiles stalked back out from behind the lanes to head back to the front desk. There were a few places he'd like to jam his balls—

Someone grabbed his arm, and before Stiles could make a noise, he was shoved backwards into the supply closet and the door slammed shut. Stiles flailed for the light bulb string he knew was there somewhere.

He yanked it, and the lone yellow bulb clicked to life, revealing one very angry-looking Derek Hale in the supply closet with him.

Stiles yanked the string again, plunging them back into darkness. "Derek, what the hell are you doing?"

The wall of heat that was Derek's body advanced on him, and Stiles found himself pushed back up against a shelf of paper towels and cleaning supplies. "What am I doing? What are you doing?"

"Trying to get back to work?" Stiles said. "Since, you know, I just left my best friend stranded at the front desk."

He pushed futilely at Derek's chest—which, wow, Stiles would cut off a finger to explore that firm deliciousness at length. No. Bad Stiles. He's on a date!

Even though he couldn't see, Stiles could feel the weight of Derek's glare. "You need to quit sabotaging my date."

"What?" Stiles burst out. "What the hell are you talking about? How the hell am I sabotaging your date?! I haven't even been over to your lane all night!"

"But you've been sending Scott over," Derek snapped. "Every fifteen minutes, it's like he's right there, asking how everything is, bringing drinks and food and—"

"You ordered those!" Stiles said shrilly. "What was I supposed to do, leave the food on the counter?"

His eyes were finally starting to adjust to closet's darkness, lit only by a thin strip of light under the door. Now he could see Derek just inches in front of him, arms ramrod straight at his sides, looking like his whole body was wound tighter than a guitar string. His face was still mostly in shadow, but Stiles could make out how pinched it looked, how Derek's mouth twisted and turned down.

"Look, just forget it," Derek muttered. "We shouldn't have come here."

Stiles grabbed hold of Derek's arm before he could stop himself. "No, dude, listen—"

Derek stiffened under him, his entire arm going tense, and he yanked away. "Don't."

Stiles's heart dropped. "Sorry, I—"

"I know you're just teasing for fun, and it doesn't mean anything, and that's fine, but I'm trying to get over it, okay?" Derek dropped his gaze to the ground. "So could you just...not?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait." Stiles held up his hands. His heart was beating much harder than it had been a moment ago. "Hold the fucking phone. Do you like me?"

Derek hunched his shoulders and stepped back; not that he could go far in the tiny supply closet. "Yes. But don't worry, I know you're not—"

"I've been in love with you since Big McLargehuge," Stiles blurted, and immediately clapped his hands over his mouth.

Derek's head snapped up. "What?"

Wow, Stiles was suddenly very lightheaded. "Um. Yes. If you were, in fact, saying that you like me like me, I would like to assure that those feelings are mutual. Very mutual. Kind of terrifyingly mutual, to be honest."

Derek's eyes were wide and round, his mouth hanging open just enough that Stiles could see his stupidly cute bunny teeth, and fuck, he was clearly too far gone if he thought Derek's teeth were cute.

"But," Derek's gaze lowered to Stiles's mouth and then snapped back to his eyes, "I'm on a date."

The thrill and relief he'd begun to feel at Derek Hale liking him crashed like a lead balloon. Stiles sagged. "Oh. Right. You are."

He shuffled over to the door, and this time, Derek moved away to let him pass. Stiles sighed. Dammit. Much as he wanted to jump on Derek right now, he couldn't do that to Kira. He'd waited this long, he could wait a few more days.

Stiles opened the door and stopped cold. There, at lane eight, Scott was standing right behind Kira, adjusting her stance for bowling the ball. From the looks on their faces, it seemed they were on a date.

"Dude, go Scott," Stiles said, before remembering Derek was right behind him. He winced. "Um, sorry man, it looks like—"

Derek yanked him back into the closet, slammed the door closed, backed Stiles into a shelf and kissed him.

Stiles froze for half a second, and then fisted his hands in Derek's leather jacket and got with the kissing program.

He'd be lying if he said he'd never imagined this, imagined what it would feel like to have Derek's lips on his and that stubble scraping along his skin, but the reality was so much sharper than any fantasy he'd ever been able to conjure.

Derek's mouth was soft, so soft and insistent on his, a contrast to the prickliness of his stubble, rasping against Stiles's cheeks and chin. It would hurt later, and he'd probably regret it, but right now the only thought in his head was that he was kissing Derek. After months of pining, it was happening. He'd probably have to send Scott a fruit basket.

Stiles finally let go of Derek's jacket, but only to get his hands in his hair, silky smooth in his fingers. Derek groaned and kissed him harder, and that was when Stiles's knees gave out.

Derek dropped his hands to Stiles's hips and pressed him into the shelf. "Gotcha."

Stiles nuzzled into Derek's neck, breathing deeply and mouthing at the skin under his jaw. "Oh my God, we're both idiots. We could have been doing this for months. Months."

Derek nodded into his hair and nipped at his earlobe. "Mm-hmm."

"Dude, you've seen Space Mutiny. Nobody's seen Space Mutiny. Scott hadn't seen Space Mutiny!"

Derek chuckled. "I like that my fitness as a partner is determined by which MST3K episodes I've watched."

"Oh my God, we can watch MST3K and make out." Stiles didn't even bother to conceal the awe in his voice.

Derek buried his face against Stiles's neck and laughed.

"Quit laughing at me."

"I'm not laughing at you."

"I can feel your shoulders shaking," Stiles accused.

"You're such a nerd," Derek said, but he said it so fondly Stiles found it difficult to be angry.

"Takes one to know one," he shot back, and he felt Derek's shoulders shake even more.

Derek kissed him lightly along the cheek. "So, are you busy next Friday night?"

Stiles mentally checked his work schedule and then mentally lit it on fire. "I'm working from 4 to close. But I'm free Thursday night!"

Despite the dim light in the closet, Stiles could see the edge of Derek's smile. "Sounds perfect." The smile got bigger. "Want to go bowling?"

Stiles punched him in the shoulder. "Oh, you ass."

***

Next Thursday night

"I can't believe we're actually going bowling," Stiles said.

Derek bumped his shoulder against Stiles's. "Hey. I like bowling."

Stiles returned the bump with a grin that probably looked as stupid as it felt. "I thought you just liked me."

Derek ducked his head and smiled shyly. "Well, it certainly didn't hurt that the guy at the front desk was cute and mouthy."

"Mouthy?!" At Derek's raised eyebrow, Stiles tried to reel in his indignation. "I'm not mouthy. I'm loquacious."

Derek chuckled. "Whatever you want to call it. I like it."

"Dork."

"Ass."

Another couple walking through the parking lot gave them a strange look, and Stiles had to resist the urge to stick his tongue out at them. So their pet names weren't typical, big deal. Stiles was just so happy they were finally on an actual date that he was going to vibrate out of his skin.

Before they reached the entrance to the bowling alley, though, he grabbed Derek's arm. "Hey, wait."

Derek frowned. "What?"

Stiles tugged him closer and gave him a brief, chaste kiss, just long enough to feel it all the way down to his toes. "Just wanted to do that before we got inside, and Scott and Isaac take every opportunity to tease us about it."

Derek's lips twitched up into a smile, and he put his hand behind Stiles's neck for a much more thorough kiss, with tongue and teeth and good God, they were going to get arrested for public indecency.

"Better," Derek murmured against his lips. Stiles could only nod in agreement.

They headed inside and up to the front desk, where Scott greeted them with a gigantic grin on his face. "Hey guys!"

Isaac looked up from where he was organizing the shoes. "Holy shit, are you two actually on a date?"

"Yeah, got a problem with it, Lahey?" Stiles snapped.

Isaac threw up his hands. "Thank fucking God, finally."

Scott tapped on the computer screen, entering their information. "My only regret is that we didn't actually bet on it."

Stiles clutched at his heart. "Scotty, dude! I can't believe you would even consider such a thing!"

Isaac dropped two pairs of bowling shoes on the counter. "Shut up and go to your lane. And remember this is a family establishment, so keep your tongues to yourselves."

Stiles waited until Isaac's back was turned before he stuck out his tongue, and he grabbed the shoes and handed Derek's pair over.

"Very mature," Derek said with a barely suppressed smile.

"Hey, you don't have to work with him for twenty hours out of the week." Stiles trotted over to their lane. "It's no less than...he..." His eyes landed on the screen above their lane, where he saw, in big letters, Derek's name and his. Specifically, his real name. "What."

"What is it? Is something the matter?" Derek asked innocently. Too innocently.

Stiles turned slowly, just to see that Derek was smirking. Cocky bastard. "I...you...How."

Derek just shrugged, and sat down to put on his shoes. "Scott was more than happy to help me when I offered to get him and Kira reservations at my dad's restaurant. Seemed appropriate, you know? Both of us finally having our real names up there."

"Oh, you..." Stiles was not going to strangle his date. He wasn't.

He was, however, going to get revenge.

Before Derek had finished putting on his shoes, Stiles ran up to the front desk, scrambled over to the register, and brought up their lane to change Derek's name. "Ha!"

"I thought you said you couldn't change it after the game started!" Derek shouted.

Stiles sauntered back over to their lane and grabbed his bowling ball. "Yeah. Update to the software, like, two months ago. Crazy. Now prepare to eat my pins, Punch Rockgroin."

"Oh, I'm not the one who's going to be eating tonight, Przemysław," Derek said. His pronunciation was perfect. Damn him. "Or if I am...it's not going to be your pins."

Stiles threw his ball straight into the gutter.