FIC: he's my friend, and he says we belong together
Title: he's my friend, and he says we belong together
Author: inlightofvisa
Rating: PG13 (slash)
Genre and/or Pairing: AU
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1236
Summary: Derek starts leaving things behind. Stiles is confused, and then not.
---
Stiles is really attentive to things. Like, really attentive. It’s selective of course, but when he focuses, he damn well focuses.
So, it surprises him when he realizes one Derek-less night that the man has been dropping by his room quite often. Not always for research. And he leaves things. Small things, of course, but he leaves things. And then never asks for them back. It’s really strange.
It started with notes. A scribbled, hasty note to research a certain point of werewolf lore that he’s pretty certain that Derek already knows. But, of course, Stiles doesn’t really have anything else better to do with his time (school is boring), so he puts his library card to use and shreds up Google like a freaking expert. The first time it happened Derek had seemed to forget that he had even asked him for a favor.
“Got the info on that plant that you wanted,” Stiles says, holding out a stack of papers as an offering. Derek cocks his head at him, looking at him before the bulb goes on. Stiles swears he can see it go on. Like there’s this little light that pops on right above Derek’s head.
“What? Oh. Oh, right. That,” Derek says, stumbling over his words, and caught slightly off guard. He flushes slightly, taking the stack of papers and shifting his weight. “I didn’t think you’d have time to research that.”
Stiles just smirks.
“It’s not like I worry about school or anything, dude,” he says, resting his hands behind his head. “School’s really boring-there’s a lot of other things to be worrying about. Like things that howl at the moon once a month.”
He swears that he sees Derek blush before he vanishes faster than he’s ever left Stiles’ room. Stiles just looks out the window confusedly, but doesn’t bother to close it.
-*-*-
The next thing that Derek starts to leave behind starts to worry Stiles a little bit. Derek is normally pretty responsible and he keeps his stuff together. Of course, Stiles doesn’t really have a problem with the things he leaves behind-the lacrosse stick keychain he finds on his desk makes him smile. But, Stiles doesn’t play the finders keepers game and tries to return it to Derek the next time he’s over.
“You left this,” he says, dangling the keychain from his fingers. Derek’s expression shifts to something unreadable before sliding back into the stoic mask he wears so often.
“I did?” his voice is gruffer than usual. Stiles is starting to fear a little bit for his life until Derek’s hands meet his and he moves the keychain back into Stiles’ hands, folding his fingers over his palm.
“Don’t you want it back, though? For things that go on keychains? Like keys?” Stiles asks, confusedly scratching his head and looking down at his hand. “I mean, you have keys, right? You need keys for your car, and for your house, and for lots of other things…”
When he looks up, Derek is gone. Again. Weird.
The next thing that Derek leaves is a lacrosse ball. Stiles doesn’t try to return it.
-*-*-
Stiles starts to get suspicious when he wakes up and finds an entirely new poster plastered to his wall. He tries to think of who would do such a thing. His dad is immediately ruled out because there’s absolutely no way in hell that his dad knows that he likes Tony Stark/Iron Man a little bit more than the average teenage boy, and especially that particular poster which has the superhero posed a little provocatively, enough to make him (and millions of other teenage fangirls around the world) a little bit horny. He figures that Derek can find out whose scent is on the poster so he can track down his secret admirer.
“Does it smell like Lydia?” he asks a little too excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waits for the man to answer. Derek looks up and glares at him.
“No, Scott gave it to you,” he says flatly, crossing his arms.
Stiles’ jaw drops.
“There’s no way that… are you being sarcastic? Did you just crack a funny?”
Derek blushes and leaps out the window. Stiles follows and sticks his head out into the night air.
“Sourwolf! That was a compliment!” he shouts. “Being funny is a good thing!”
-*-*-
Derek starts to visit on a daily instead of weekly basis, occasionally cracking sarcastic jokes (all at Stiles’ expense, of course) and always staying a bit longer each time. It’s not until Derek stays until midnight that Stiles actually notices.
“Dude, I’m happy that you don’t want to kill me anymore, but I have stuff to do,” he says. Derek nods and slips out the window.
-*-*-
The next night, there’s no sourwolf. Stiles feels a bit sad. He fiddles with the lacrosse ball that Derek left him before starting on his homework. If he stays up a little bit later and leaves his window open all night in hopes of a certain someone gracing his room with his presence, he doesn’t tell anyone.
-*-*-
This goes on for an entire week. Stiles is starting to feel antsy (or antsier than he always is) and drives up to Derek’s house after practice. He barely knocks on the door when Derek opens it.
“What do you want?” he asks gruffly, refusing to look Stiles in the eyes.
“I don’t know what I did, but you stopped visiting and it’s been weird, and… I wanted to say sorry?” Stiles says, fidgeting. Derek’s expression shifts slightly from stoic into something… not stoic.
“Leave your window open,” he says and shuts the door. Stiles is left staring agape at the door.
“Does this mean we’re okay again?” he yells as he heads for his Jeep. There’s no answer.
-*-*-
Derek slides into his room at eleven that night. Stiles snaps his textbook shut.
“Good to see you, sourwolf,” he says, smiling.
“Listen, Stiles, there’s something I have to tell you,” Derek says, staring at the floor. Stiles’ heart starts racing.
“Is it something with Scott? Did he do something stupid again? I knew I shouldn’t have told him about the poster, God, I’m so-”
Stiles tries to keep talking but finds he can’t as Derek is kissing him and he’s kissing back, and wait, what?
“Stiles, did you hear anything of what I said?”
Stiles sputters.
“What?”
“I… God, Stiles. I like you. Love you even.”
“Oh.”
And then the past few months replay themselves in Stiles’ head and the puzzle pieces snap together and he can see the big picture, finally. The big, beautiful, picture of him all over Derek, and… yowza. His mind is a bit too into this for him to stay clothed right now.
“Um, so… If that’s it, I’ll go,” Derek says, absolutely red and staring at the floor. Stiles reaches for his arm and pulls him into a heated kiss.
“Stay the night,” Stiles says after they pull apart. “It’s not like I want to do anything else.”
Derek looks a bit freaked out. Stiles thinks about his word choice and regrets it. Heavily.
“I mean, yes, stay, I’d love for you to stay forever.”
He’s stopped from any further attempt at butchering the situation by Derek’s mouth on his. He can feel the man’s smile on his lips.
“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek murmurs. Stiles shuts up.