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When Stiles walks in with a bag of takeaway and five sodas, he stops short, his mouth open, looking unbelievingly at the scene before him. Scott is sitting on one edge of the sofa, laptop in hand, giggling maniacally as he types something, while Derek is doing his best grumpy cat expression from under Isaac who has tackled him to the rug.
'Just wait, Derek!' Isaac is saying, laughing as Derek tries to throw him off. But either he's not trying hard enough or Isaac has gotten super strong over the past few months, because he keeps Derek pinned to the ground while Scott's fingers fly quickly over the keyboard.
'Get off of me, Lahey!' Derek growls, his claws inching out and he slashes at Isaac's arm while Scott titters above him. Stiles drops the takeout on the table and stalks over to them and drops down on the couch next to Scott, peering over at the laptop screen.
It's a dating site and they're doing a profile for Derek. Stiles snorts out his soda and Scott thumps him on the back quickly before returning to his typing.
'You guys aren't serious, are you?!' Stiles asks, grinning widely as Derek finally manages to throw Isaac off and pins him against the wall, a hand around his neck. Isaac laughs and rolls his eyes at Derek’s red irises.
'They are serious,' says Boyd quietly from his chair and Stiles jumps. Sometimes he forgets that Boyd exists. Boyd slurps at his drink and raises an eyebrow at him.
'But who'd want to go out on a date with Derek?' Stiles says, and a silence falls over the room. Derek has his back to Stiles but Stiles notices him tense and he blushes a deep red as he stammers, 'I mean, what I meant to say was that, you're really hot, but uh, dude, you haven't gone out in ages, so, I mean, do you even know how to flirt!?' he finished, flailing, his soda spilling a little on the couch.
Derek turns around, his expression carefully neutral. Scott has paused typing, his fingers hovering over the keyboard but not making any contact, and Isaac slides inconspicuously behind Boyd.
'Like Stiles just pointed out, there's really no one who'd want to date me, so if I could have that back?' Derek says very carefully, holding out his hand for his laptop. Scott hands it over without a word. Derek closes it and puts it on the top shelf of his bookshelf.
'You guys can eat, I'm going out for a run,' he says, stripping off his shirt and heading for the door. No one stops him.
The moment he's gone, they all round on Stiles.
'What the hell was that, dude!?' exclaims Scott, throwing up his hands.
'Not cool, man, not cool,' adds Isaac, lounging against the wall now that Derek had gone.
'That was mean, Stiles,' says Boyd, getting up and throwing his empty soda cup into the trash can.
Stiles wants to curl up into a little ball and die. He never had meant to say that. His brain to mouth filter had always got him into trouble, but this had been absolutely horrible of him and he knew it.
'I'm sorry, guys, I don't – I just don't know why I did that,' he says in a small voice, not meeting their eyes.
'Well, you better apologize,' says Scott as he gets up from the sofa and picks up his jacket. Isaac nods in agreement and Boyd doesn't say anything.
'I know. I will,' he says, fiddling with the hole in the couch next to where he sat.
'Well, Isaac and I are heading out,' Boyd says as they leave and then it's only Scott left and a bunch of unopened takeaway boxes. When Stiles looks up, Scott's tying his shoe laces.
'Are you coming?' Scott asks as he finishes. Stiles stares around the empty loft then shakes his head.
'I think I'll wait for him to come back,' Stiles says a little miserably and Scott nods and leaves.
Derek runs faster than he has in months, not sticking to a particular path, but running wherever he feels like it. His arms and legs pumping, he can't feel anything but the wind that rushes past his ears. If he wasn't a werewolf, his body would be on fire and he would be panting, but because he is a fucking werewolf, he's not even panting, nor is he out of breath.
He puts on a little extra speed, pounding the forest floor angrily. He knows he shouldn't be too bothered by what Stiles said, it was the same thing he had been thinking when Isaac had suggested the idea to Scott. But to hear Stiles say it? It hurt. Especially since he may or may not have a huge crush on Stiles.
He feels his nails extend into claws but concentrates on the rhythm of his run in an attempt to calm himself. But all he can hear is Stiles' voice, over and over, asking the same thing. Who'd want to date him?
He's sweaty by the time he walks back into the loft. It's dark, but he can hear the slight beating of a heart and when he sniffs, he can smell Stiles. He huffs in exasperation as he flips on the light switch and floods the loft with bright light.
'Unnhh,' Stiles groans from where he's sitting on the couch, squinting and shading his eyes.
'What do you want?' Derek asks, walking over to his bedroom and pulling out a clean Henley. He walks back into the living room and strips off his wife beater. He tells himself he doesn't do it on purpose but when Stiles stares openly, he can't help but smirk a little. He pulls on the soft Henley and goes to grab a soda from the fridge.
'I, uh, I stayed back to apologize,' Stiles says, hesitantly. He's sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, hugging a pillow. Derek slides into a chair at the dining table and flips through the newspaper.
'Okay,' he says, not looking at Stiles because he’s still not feeling completely forgiving. There's silence for a while and then Stiles flails, waving his arms around and throwing the pillow back to its original spot at the end of the sofa.
'That's it? 'Okay'?' he asks incredulously.
'What do you want me to say?' Derek asks, looking up at him, eyebrows raised.
'I don't know! But aren't you going to, like, pin me against the wall and threaten to rip my throat out or something like that?' Stiles asks, walking over to the table and sliding into the chair opposite.
'No,' Derek says, flipping over another page and sipping at his soda. Stiles stares and doesn't say anything.
'You're really hot, just by the way,' Stiles says, blushing slightly and Derek can hear a slight quickening of his heartbeat. 'And anyone would go out with you, really,' and he's being really earnest now so Derek looks up and smiles a little because he's known the guy for a long time now, and he's known for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Plus, Stiles just admitted that he thinks Derek is hot.
'Thanks,' Derek says honestly and Stiles smiles in relief, sagging against the back of his chair. He plays with the salt and pepper shakers for a bit, and Derek's hyper-aware that their legs are almost touching under the table.
'So, uh, would you mind very much if I said I wanted to help you finish your dating profile?' Stiles asks and Derek looks up. Stiles is looking him anxiously and his heart is beating faster than normal.
'No, I don't mind,' Derek finally says and Stiles shoots up like a jack-in-the-box and goes over to the bookshelf. He retrieves Derek's laptop and stalks over to the couch, settling down on it. Derek also walks over with one of the boxes of takeaway.
'Shame about it getting cold,' he comments as he jabs his fork at a fried chicken piece and pops it into his mouth. Stiles reaches over for a curly fry and thrusts the laptop at Derek.
'Here. You type, I'll offer suggestions,' he says.
'Okay,' Derek nods, opening up the dating page again.
'Hmm, age, sex, name, location...' Stiles reads off, leaning close to look at the screen, 'Scott filled in all those. Click the 'next' button,' he instructs, popping another curly fry in his mouth. Derek obeys, and eats another nugget as they wait for the page to load.
'Hmm, interests,' Stiles reads. Derek's fingers hover over the keyboard.
'Running, baseball, The Breakfast Club,' Stiles recites, counting off on his fingers.
'Hold on, hold on, how do you know about The Breakfast Club?' Derek frowns at Stiles' grinning face.
'Dude, it's the only DVD in this place which doesn't have a layer of dust coating it. Well, Spiderman doesn't either, but that's me,' Stiles says, snatching another curly fry from Derek's takeaway box.
Derek shakes his head unbelievingly but types it in.
'Milkshakes, reading, libraries, working out, IHOP, Candy Crush,' Stiles says, counting off more fingers, 'Do you need more?'
'Do you have more?' Derek raises an eyebrow as he types.
'Oh, I have enough to fill a novel,' Stiles says absently, and Derek pauses mid word, his heart skipping a beat. Stiles probably hasn't noticed what he's said though, because he's busy rooting around for another curly fry.
'Damn, these guys never put in enough fries,' he says as he gives up and picks up a piece of chicken instead.
'Um, okay, I'm done,' Derek says, looking at Stiles and realizing just how close he's sitting. There's barely a gap between them.
'Okay, what's next?' Stiles leans over, his breath falling on Derek's cheek as he looks at the laptop screen. 'Dislikes,' he grins. 'Well, there's plenty of those, don't you think?' and he winks at Derek. Derek frowns and turns back to look at the laptop.
'Tea, old people who walk slowly, really, Derek?' Stiles laughs when he reads what Derek has typed, throwing his head back and exposing the smooth, pale column of his throat. Derek fights the urge to lean over and suck a mark on it. He's still staring when Stiles stops laughing and their eyes meet, an unreadable expression in Stiles' eyes. Derek clears his throat and starts typing again.
'Tofu, shrimps, wind chimes, stained glass windows, going to IKEA,' Stiles murmurs as Derek types.
'Okay, um, let's move on,' Derek says, clicking the 'next' button. Stiles has set the takeaway box on the coffee table and is now flush against Derek's side, their shoulders and hips pressing against each other.
'Tell us a little about yourself,' Derek reads, and Stiles' finger underlines it on the screen.
'I'm passionate about history,' Stiles begins, 'I love reading up on the ancient Egyptian civilization. I also love literature and consume classics by the ton. My favorite book is About a Boy by Nick Hornby and Harry Potter comes in as a close second,' Derek glances at Stiles but it's a mistake because Stiles' is looking at him intently and their faces are too close. He turns away unwillingly.
'I love my friends and I'm fiercely protective about them,' Stiles says, his voice even but Derek can hear his heartbeat pounding nervously.
'I love eating breakfast in bed,' and Derek can't even imagine how he found that out, 'I want someone who understands my quirks and accepts me, no matter who I am, or how grumpy I can get on my worst days,' Stiles finishes quietly but Derek had stopped typing a long time ago.
Derek can feel Stiles against his side, warm and right. He swallows as he turns towards Stiles again. Stiles is smiling and Derek's eyes flick towards his mouth and then back to his eyes. Slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, Stiles raises his hand to cup Derek's cheek, and Derek leans into his touch. And then Stiles leans forward and Derek's eyes flutter shut as he feels Stiles' lips press against his softly.
Derek reaches up to put a hand on the nape of Stiles' neck and pulls him closer. Stiles grins against his mouth and Derek takes the opportunity to lick Stiles' lips with his tongue, making Stiles open his mouth more so that Derek's tongue can slip inside. Stiles lets out a breathy moan when Derek's tongue collides with his and the noise makes Derek's body shiver.
'God,' Stiles whispers when he pulls back because he's short of breath. Derek grins.
‘I guess there is someone out there who’d date me,’ Derek quips, and Stiles twists his mouth into a sad look, dropping his head on Derek’s shoulder and bringing his arms up around his neck.
‘I’m sorry about what I said earlier,’ he says again, mumbling the apology into the space between Derek’s shoulder and neck. Derek hums in response as he lets his hands slip under Stiles’ shirt. ‘It’s okay,’ he says.
‘But you have to make it up to me,’ he adds after a beat. Stiles raises his head from his shoulder to fix him with a curious, interested stare.
‘Ask me out,’ Derek grins. ‘Do it properly.’
Stiles laughs and leans forward so that their noses are touching. ‘You’re cute, do you know that?’ Derek smiles.
‘Derek, you, me, curly fries, a movie, Saturday night?’ Stiles whispers.
‘Only if we watch the Breakfast Club.’