Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They’re all sitting around Derek’s loft, idly drinking and picking at dessert after the weekly pack dinner, when Scott brings it up.

“Hey, so, I promised I’d ask,” Scott starts, putting his beer down and looking fully at Derek. “This woman who has a chocolate lab--she comes in regularly for check-ups and stuff--she saw us out at the park the other day?”

Derek looks at him in confusion, unsure of where this conversation is heading. He looks around at the others, but Stiles just shrugs unhelpfully and Kira gives him an encouraging smile. “Yeah?”

“She asked me if you were single, and I said you were but I didn’t know if you were interested in dating. But then she asked me to find out if you were, and she comes in all the time, so I didn’t want to say no? Anyway, this is me asking. If you’re interested.”

“Interested. In dating a random woman who has a chocolate lab?” Derek asks incredulously. He glances around the table. “I thought you all were the ones who said any new love interests would need a thorough background check and serious vetting?”

Stiles slaps his hand down on the table. “And I still think that is necessary. All in favor?”

Scott just rolls his eyes. “No, I don’t mean in her. She’s nice and all, but her question just got me thinking. Are you interested in dating? I mean, it has been a long time.”

“He’s right,” Lydia adds. “Not that you need to be dating or anything, but I also had someone ask me if you were single. Might as well have the right answer when the next person asks.” Lydia takes a dainty sip of her wine but sends him a weighty glance. “So what’s the answer?”

Kira sees Derek’s hesitation and jumps to his defense. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. It’s not that big of a deal, and you shouldn’t feel any kind of pressure.” She gives him a sweet smile.

Derek appreciates the support, but he can’t help but wonder how long this has been happening without his knowledge. Has he really been this oblivious? He simply asks her, “Have you had people ask you as well?”

Kira looks slightly embarrassed but gives him a tiny nod and replies, “Just a few times? I just told them I didn’t know. It’s no problem to keep with that answer. It’s not like it’s any of their business anyway.”

Derek looks around the table again, eyes wide in surprise. “Have all of you been asked about me?”

Everyone nods except Stiles, who shakes his head and says, “Well, no one has asked me about the status of your dating life.”

“That’s because everyone you know is sitting around this table,” Boyd says drily before taking a swig of his beer.

“Hey, just because I am committed to my job and don’t feel the need to make new friends doesn’t mean I don’t know anyone else,” Stiles says defensively. He helps himself to another slice of pie and eats in a way that conveys his indignation.

“Stiles, you work from home. You literally only leave the house to come here or to your dad’s. You even order your groceries online,” Cora says bluntly. She puts up her hand when she sees Stiles getting ready to defend himself. “Anyway, let’s get back to Derek. Clearly people want to know. And clearly, people are interested. So do you want to get laid or what?”

Derek looks on as Kira gapes at Cora while Boyd tries to smother his grin. He sighs a little and rubs his chin. “I mean, I guess there’s no harm in telling people I’m single, right? I’m not opposed to dating. It’s just that I’m a little hesitant--you all know my dating history. I’m okay with meeting people, but then sometimes I just get overwhelmed and want to leave but don’t want to be rude.” He shakes his head no when Stiles offers him a bite of his pie. “Also, I feel like I attract really aggressive people.”

“You think?” Cora says with a snort. Derek glares at her, but Cora just shrugs knowingly. “See? That’s the look you give. Anyone who’s willing to get through that look has to be a little aggressive. They just don’t know that you’re a big teddy bear.” Cora gives him a smacking kiss on his cheek before getting up to grab another beer.

Derek pretends to be offended by the kiss, but he knows she’s right. Everyone in the pack knows how much of a marshmallow he is, even if they allow him to pretend he’s a badass in leather. He leans back in his chair and tries to approach the situation logically. “I guess if I’m being honest, I am attracted to strong personality types. There’s just a difference between being confidently secure and, I don’t know, arrogantly manipulative? I’m not the best judge of that, especially in the beginning.”

Cora comes back with two beers and wraps her arms around his neck. “I know. That’s why we’re here, having this conversation. And it’s not like you have to go from 0 to 60. Whatever you had with Braeden was fine, and there was no explosion at the end of that one.” She nudges him fondly before sliding back into her seat and leaning into Boyd.

“I start working at that new club this weekend. I could get you on the list if you want,” Boyd says. “It’s opening night--should be a good crowd.”

“We could all go! Support Boyd at his new part-time gig, dance a little, make sure nothing evil goes down,” Scott says, the excitement clear in his voice. “You could kind of scope out the scene, see if there’s anyone who appeals to you. But we’d be there, so we could come save you if you’re feeling uncomfortable.” He smiles encouragingly.

“Oh, you should come up with a code! Like, a text message that’s a secret SOS!” Stiles says, immediately reaching for his phone.

Derek frowns. “You don’t think it’s a little rude, chatting with someone and then suddenly getting out my phone and then suddenly someone shows up?” Derek asks, his opinion clear on his face.

Stiles scrunched his face and then nods, defeated. “Okay, that’s true. Okay. But how about some other kind of signal? Like, scratch your beard or stick out your tongue or something.”

Derek sticks his tongue out at him and then laughs at Stiles’ sputtering reaction.

Lydia holds up her hand to interrupt. “He actually has a good point, even though his suggestions are weak.” She dares Stiles to disagree. “The signal, that is. We could have something set up so that if you’re in an uncomfortable situation, we could help out--although it would probably have to be Stiles. People might think it’s weird if we say you’re single and available and then keep cockblocking them,” she explains. “Sorry, Stiles, you’re going to have to start showering and going out. Guess we better go shopping,” Lydia says nonchalantly.

“This is all a dirty trick. I see how it is--pretend that it’s an intervention for Derek to date and it’s actually an intervention to get me to wear pants at home." Stiles squints his eyes accusingly and points a finger at her. Lydia ignores him.

“Well, it is a good habit to be in,” Kira says innocently, and Scott just beams next to her, the traitor.

They veto the beard scratching because Derek is known to do that frequently, and Cora points out that they don’t want to swoop in only to find out that Derek is fine. In the end, they settle on having Derek pull on his earlobe, nothing noticeable but different from what he normally does. As they clear the table, Boyd texts everyone the details of the club and sets a time to meet. Lydia forcibly takes Stiles’s phone to schedule a shopping date, and Kira and Cora make plans to go for a run in the morning. Eventually, they start to trickle out.

Derek is about to close the door when Stiles turns around and says, “You sure you’re okay with this? I know I was teasing earlier, but you don’t have to start dating just because Scott asked. It’s not a big deal for the others to keep saying they don’t know if you’re available.”

Derek gives him a small smile. “Aw, are you being protective of me and my fragile--ow,” Derek says flatly as Stiles punches him in the chest.

“Like that even hurt,” Stiles mutters as he shakes out his fist.

“I’m fine, Stiles. It might be nice to meet someone, date like a normal person. But thanks for checking. I appreciate it,” Derek says sincerely.

Stiles searches his face and must find some kind of reassurance because he pats Derek on the chest, right where he punched him, and then turns to leave.

Derek watches him fall into his Jeep--amazed at how it’s still running--and finally closes the door. As he locks up and finishes cleaning up the kitchen, he wonders if he really is ready to date. Thoughts start running through his mind: how he usually spends his weekends, what his ideal dates would look like, the type of person he thinks would suit him best. Derek starts vigorously washing the dishes when he realizes the identity of the person who seems to be prominently figuring in all these scenarios. When there are no more dishes to wash and no more food to put away and no more distraction tactics, he lets himself sigh--just for a moment--before turning out the lights and heading to bed.

--

The club is loud and filled with heavy beats and energetic dancing. Derek isn’t much for this kind of dancing and only goes onto the dance floor because Cora makes him promise he’ll at least try to loosen up a little. The music is slightly less obnoxious by the bar, which is where Derek ends up straying once he gets hit in the face by Stiles one too many times. He’s only there for a moment before someone approaches him. The woman seems nice enough, but Derek politely declines a drink. She leaves him at the bar, and Derek congratulates himself for dealing with the stranger in a polite, mature manner. He’s approached two more times and successfully turns them away two more times. Derek is feeling both flattered and comfortable when another person comes up to him. She’s clearly been watching him turn away attractive woman, and now Derek is a challenge to be won. She’s gorgeous, but she’s very aware of her appearance in a way that turns Derek off immediately.

When he reaches up to tug on his earlobe and send out the signal, Derek expects Stiles to come in all loud and obvious, hands flailing about some emergency that requires his help immediately. What he doesn't expect is for Stiles to come in, slide into his space, murmur a greeting into that sensitive spot by his ear and hand him a drink. It's subtle, but their intimacy and their supposed relationship is clearly conveyed. The woman gives a sour smile and heads to a different spot at the bar.

"You good?" Stiles asks as he pulls back slightly to take a sip of his beer.

Derek blinks a few times before answering. "Yeah, thanks. Not quite what I was expecting but it did the trick." Derek asks the bartender to close his tab before downing the drink from Stiles.

“What do you mean?” Stiles asks quietly, still in his space.

Derek signs the check, takes the mostly empty beer bottle out of Stiles’ hands to place it on the bar, and then takes his hand to lead him towards the exit. “Well, I was expecting you to say you had some emergency or that your dad needed help at the station or someone needed a flat tire changed. I didn't realize you were going to pretend to be my boyfriend,” Derek murmurs into Stiles’s ear as he keeps weaving through the crowd.

“Oh my god. I am so sorry. I guess we should've talked about the details more,” Stiles says with a cringe. The embarrassment spreads across his cheeks and down his neck.

Derek resists watching the flush travel down his body, keeps his eyes on the exit. “No, Stiles. It's fine. Really, it worked beautifully, and it's actually helpful, too. Gets the word out that I'm interested in men as well,” Derek throws out as an afterthought. He lets go of Stiles’ hand when they get to his car.

Stiles gives him a long look but says nothing. He slides into the seat with practiced ease.

“Wanna go home?” Derek asks as he starts the car.

Stiles glances at him briefly before gnawing on a finger, thoughts flying around in his head. "Yeah, okay," he says. "Wanna grab some curly fries first? I worked up an appetite on that dance floor."

Derek snorts but changes lanes to head towards Stiles's favorite fry place. "Maybe we should stop by the drugstore, too, get some ice packs for all the times you smacked me out there."

Stiles throws his head back and laughs, and Derek finds himself smiling all the way home.

--

They get into a routine, and there are times when Derek greatly appreciates Stiles’s presence. His initial successes must have been beginner’s luck because he suddenly finds himself unable to divert the attentions of his admirers. There’s a moment at the grocery store when he’s accosted by an attractive but too curious woman in the gourmet cheese section. There’s an overly friendly guy at the gas station one pump over. There’s a bubbly young trainer who suspiciously trips while jogging, right when he passes by. The encounters always start off pleasantly enough but then quickly nosedive into one-sided flirting and quiet panic as Derek tries to figure out how to show he’s not interested without being rude. After the fourth time that Stiles saves him, Derek realizes how frequently they’re together, that Stiles is even there to see his SOS signal. Eventually, the earlobe pulling becomes second nature when he’s feeling uncomfortable. He has a moment when someone from his graduating class comes up to him at the coffeeshop and is a little too interested in reuniting. Derek’s by himself, having just stopped in to grab a coffee before heading over to the hardware store. He pulls his earlobe futilely, hoping just the action will make him feel better, when suddenly Stiles is there, sliding a warm hand on his neck and loosening the tightness in his chest.

Stiles follows Derek out of the coffee shop and then suddenly pauses. “Wait, did you even want help there? I just walked in and saw you; you didn’t know I would be there.” Stiles covers his mouth in horror. “Did I just cockblock you?”

Derek shakes his head quickly, his relief apparent. “I didn’t know you’d be there, but I’m definitely glad you were. I must do it unconsciously now, whenever I wish I were in a different situation.”

Stiles exhales loudly. “Good. Had me worried for a sec. And he was cute, too.” Stiles winks.

Derek rolls his eyes. “Too bad he thinks you’re with me now.”

Stiles grins wickedly before retorting, “Nah, I’m good. You’re cuter.” He laughs at Derek’s exasperated look before walking towards his own car. “Dad says you should come over for dinner tomorrow night. Scott and a few others will be there as well. See you at 6!” he says as he walks backwards before spinning and climbing into his Jeep.

Derek watches him drive off, long fingers wiggling goodbye out the window. He catches himself smiling fondly long after the Jeep is out of sight.

--

The next night, Stiles’s dad squints at the two of them over a dinner of grilled steak kabobs and salad. He pauses meaningfully for a moment and then asks, “Is there something you two want to tell me?”

Scott snorts into his green peppers, and Kira jabs him in the ribs.

Stiles frowns at Scott’s outburst. “What do you mean, Dad?” Stiles asks, sincere confusion on his face.

Derek closes his eyes briefly and exhales slowly, suddenly realizing what Stiles’s dad is about to say.

“Well, son, at least three people have come up to me to bring up your boyfriend Derek and how cute you two are.” He takes a bite of steak and then points the skewer at Derek. “Not that there’s anything wrong with it. Just that I would’ve liked to know.”

Derek clears his throat when he sees that Stiles is too astonished to respond. “No, we’re not actually dating. Stiles just offered to help me out when, uh--”

Stiles finally finds his voice again and interrupts. “Oh my God, Dad. You couldn’t ask me when I was alone? No, Dad, we’re not dating. But sometimes people are creeps when they hit on Derek--” he pauses to sling an arm around an embarrassed Derek-- “so I help him out of uncomfortable situations, make them back off a little.” Stiles glares at Scott when he hears him smothering laughter.

“It’s true, Sheriff,” Kira pipes up, trying to make things less awkward. “We were all there when we decided that Derek would have a signal if he wanted someone’s help. It’s also true that people get kind of aggressive when it comes to Derek,” she says with a sharp grin at Derek. “I think he has this kind of mysterious aura? So people want to be the ones to figure him out.” She gives him a reassuring smile. “Stiles has actually saved him a number of times. And we figured it’d be easiest if it were Stiles since the rest of us are in known relationships.”

Stiles’s dad is still squinting, his evaluation of this idea clearly etched on his face. He sighs loudly and takes another bite. “You’re both adults. If you think this is the best way to deal with things, well--” He waves his fork at them. “You’ll figure it out eventually.”

Scott finally bursts out laughing.

Stiles kicks him from under the table, but Scott still shakes with amusement. “Anyway, Dad, just agree with whatever people say, okay?”

The sheriff puts down his utensils. “You want me to pretend as well. And you're ok with this.” He gives Stiles a stern look and then turns to Derek. “And you’re ok with this, too?”

Derek nods cautiously, wondering how much the sheriff can read on his face. He tries not to make his relief too obvious when Stiles’s dad finally turns away.

Stiles sees his dad looking at him again like he's stupid. "Come on, Dad. You’re constantly hiding werewolves and all this supernatural craziness all the time. What’s a little lie about your son’s dating life?” Stiles gives him a thumbs up and a hopeful smile.

Stiles’s dad gets up slowly. “I think I’m gonna need another beer.”

--

When Derek receives an email about a music festival nearby, he tells himself it’s the perfect kind of place to casually meet a variety of different people with a pre-set conversation topic of musical tastes. Derek tells himself that it’s not because he’s heard Stiles whining about wanting to go this Buck Moon Music Festival when he drops two tickets into his shopping cart.

He’ll bring it up at the next pack meeting, ask if anyone is interested in joining him and possibly suggest the festival as a pack outing. Of course, Derek never gets to that point because Stiles discovers the tickets when he’s hanging out one day--not that Derek leaves them out on the table or anything.

“Whose tickets are these? ‘Cause they’re mine now! Oh my god, I have seriously always wanted to go to Buck Moon Music Festival!”

Derek looks up from where he’s spreading sauce on the homemade pizzas he’s making for the two of them. He’d been prepping pizza dough when Stiles had shown up at his door for no stated reason other than boredom. He’d easily divided his extra large pizza into four smaller ones, since Stiles always wants different types of pizza all at once. Derek sees the hopefulness on Stiles’ face and knows immediately that he’s not going to offer them to the pack, as if Stiles would’ve let anyone else take them. “Do you want to go?”

Stiles gapes at him. “Do I?” He looks around exaggeratedly before throwing up his hands and saying, “YES. Of course I do! I’ve grown up wanting to go to that festival, but something’s always come up to keep me from getting there. Underdog Upset is opening for Kafka on the Store! Derek. You have to take me.”

Derek snorts, even though he’s soaking in the excitement rolling off Stiles. “If you want to come with me, that’s fine. I didn’t have anyone in particular in mind when I got them. I just thought it would be a good place to meet some new people.” He shrugs and attempts to be nonchalant. It’s not even necessary because Stiles is so delighted that he jumps up and gives Derek a big hug from behind, careful not to get pizza sauce everywhere.

“YES! Oh man, you’re the best. And it works out because if you try meeting people and then need some help out of a situation, I’m there! I’m your man.” He gives him a big wink before snatching a mushroom off one of the pizzas. He just laughs when Derek growls at him.

*

The weekend of the festival arrives, and Derek smiles softly to himself when he pulls out the old, faded t-shirt from the back of his bottom drawer, the material soft from wear despite the years of neglect. He can still smell the very faint scent of his sister, of their tiny apartment in New York City. She’d bought him this t-shirt at one of the first Kafka on the Store concerts, a small gig at a grubby little club in the Village. There’s no question he’s excited about going to see them again with Stiles, but there is a part of him that thinks of Laura and aches.

When Derek goes to pick up Stiles, his breath catches when he sees him at the door, his collarbones visible in a plain, wide-necked t-shirt and his legs on display in black skinny jeans. Derek swallows slowly and looks away before he starts thinking inappropriate thoughts.

Before Derek gets back in the car, Stiles puts a hand on Derek’s chest to stop him. “Wait, are you...what are you wearing?” Stiles asks, his face full of suspicion. “Where did you get that t-shirt?”

Derek huffs in amusement. “In New York City,” he says vaguely before opening his door and starting the engine. Stiles opens his mouth to say something but then snaps it shut and climbs in silently.

Stiles lasts about 2 minutes before he starts asking questions again. “Are you telling me you’ve actually seen Kafka on the Store before?” Stiles turns to him fully even as he clicks his seatbelt. He reaches to touch the t-shirt. “That is one of their vintage shirts. They go for exorbitant prices on ebay.” Stiles moves his hand but doesn’t stop staring at him. “You’re seriously not going to tell me? They’re one of my favorite bands!”

Derek continues driving calmly, counting the seconds down and then answering right before he knows Stiles will launch another barrage of questions. “Yeah, I saw them in New York, one of their first gigs. Laura and I--” he pauses, using a merge onto a highway as an excuse for the break in his words. “Laura and I saw them open for a band and fell in love with them. We followed them for a while, and she bought me this t-shirt at one of their shows. After we moved back, I stopped listening to them for a while--too many memories, I guess. But when I saw them on the setlist for the festival, I thought it might be nice to see them again.” He can feel Stiles’s eyes on him and isn’t sure if he wants to see pity in them. Derek shifts gears and then motions to his stereo. “Go ahead and hook up your iPod or whatever. I know you made a playlist for the trip up.”

Stiles looks for one beat more and give Derek’s shoulder a quick but warm squeeze before hooking up his phone. “Buck Moon, here we come!”

*

The festival is loud and sloppy and crowded, and somehow Derek is still smiling. It might have something to do with Stiles’s infectious excitement, as he gets dragged around to the different stages and makes bitingly witty observations about other audience members. When Stiles makes him wait while he braves the toilets, Derek reminds himself that he's supposed to socializing, meeting people and possibly making connections. He makes himself look around, but no one really catches his eye, even as he notices that he's caught the gaze of several others. Luckily, Stiles gets back before he gets approached by anyone. Stiles notices Derek's slight unease immediately.

"Dude, I leave you alone for 5 minutes! Vultures are circling." He laughs when Derek just gives him a dirty look. Kafka on the Store is one of the mainstage events, so they head over early to get a spot near the stage. The opening act is tight, getting the crowd ready and pumped. By the time Kafka take the stage, Derek and Stiles have been jumping along with the crowd, getting jostled by eager listeners, and loving every moment.

When the main singer points out Derek's t-shirt and gives him a shout-out, Stiles almost loses his shit. He shakes Derek in excitement and keeps jumping around him, spilling beer all down the front of his shirt in the process. Stiles doesn't seem to care, taking it in stride as a part of the whole festival experience, but Derek doesn't remember much of the concert after that, distracted by the pink puffy nipples poking out of Stiles's wet white shirt.

After the show, Stiles and Derek wander around the grounds, ears ringing and hearts pounding. They decide to grab another beer and snack before ultimately heading home. Derek is lingering by the edge of a food stand when he hears someone behind him say, "Hey, it's our favorite fan!!"

He turns around to see the lead singer of Kafka smiling at him, the other band members milling about. Derek is so surprised that he's speechless. He laughs at his own awkwardness and nods. "Great show tonight," he says when he finally gets his voice back.

"Thanks, man. It felt good. You know, I haven't seen one of those t-shirts in ages. New York, right? I remember you. Used to come to a bunch of our smaller shows, usually with a pretty girl with dark hair?"

Derek gives a sad smile before he can help himself. "Yeah, my sister. She passed away a few years ago. I moved back to California pretty soon after that."

"Sorry to hear that." He gives his arm a sympathetic squeeze before putting out his hand and saying, "I'm Jack."

Derek snorts. "Yeah, I know." He shakes the proffered hand and says, "I'm Derek."

"Nice to meet you, Derek." Jack gives him a wide smile and then asks him coyly, "So what do you think--have we sold out?"

"Nah, Buck Moon is indie enough that no one needs to know how much bank you make at this thing," he says nonchalantly and then smiles when Jack bursts out into laughter. He tenses slightly when Jack uses his laughter to come closer and hide his face in Derek's shoulder. Jack is obviously attractive--lead singers and their deadly charisma--but Derek isn't interested in tainting one of his favorite memories with Laura with a trailer hook-up. He starts pulling on his earlobe guiltily.

"They were out of your fave so I got you a beer instead," Stiles says smoothly as he clicks into place right against Derek's chest. "Who's your friend oh my GOD," Stiles says as he realizes who is in front of him. "Uh, hey, hi. Dude, great show tonight."

Jack grins rather sharply as he steps back out of Derek's space. "Thanks. Glad you liked it. Derek, hope to see you at our next gig," he says with a wink and a lingering hand down Derek's bicep.

Stiles gapes as he watches the lead singer walk away. "Dude, did you seriously just turn down a one-night love fest with Jack Falahee from Kafka on the Store? You should've taken one for the team and given me all the dirty details!" He shakes his head in disbelief, eyes still on Jack's retreating body.

"I think you're drooling," Derek says as he rolls his eyes and takes a gulp of his drink. "Come on, we can walk around a little longer before we head home." He slings an arm around Stiles's neck and nuzzles his temple before leading him forward.

Stiles says nothing more of Jack or Kafka on the Store.

--

Oddly enough, Derek stops being approached by people. He smiles at the barista, waves to the jogger he sees regularly, nods at the dogwalker, and yet there are no awkward moments. He’s pondering this as he waits for the rest of the pack to arrive at the movies, absentmindedly pulling on his earlobe.

“Hey, babe,” Stiles murmurs as he slips into Derek’s space.

Derek immediately puts his arm around Stiles and pulls him in. He knows there’s no one around despite the sent signal and therefore has no excuse for keeping up the charade, but Stiles feels so comfortable in his arms. It feels right, and Derek is feeling selfish tonight.

They watch the movie, and Stiles stays close the entire time. They munch on popcorn, laugh together, share whispered commentary, get shushed, stay thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder. It is, in essence, a date. It’s the best date Derek has had in a really long time.

Later that night, Derek is up reading when he gets a text. He assumes it’s Stiles and tries not to analyze the warmth that fills him in anticipation. He checks his phone and sees that it’s actually from Scott.

You should just tell him.

The warmth leaves him immediately; Derek closes his eyes and breathes out noisily. He can’t pretend he doesn’t know what Scott is talking about, not after his laughing fit at the Stilinski’s the other night. But he has no idea why he thinks telling Stiles about his feelings is a good idea. Stiles clearly thinks he’s just doing Derek a favor, helping out a bro. What could he gain from confessing his feelings?

Derek closes his book and turns out the light, knowing he isn’t going to be able to focus on his book any longer. He tries to focus on his breathing instead, thinking about the meditation exercises he’s done with Cora. It doesn’t work completely, but the ache inside isn’t as sharp. The moonlight filtering through the window is comforting.

Despite the number of years since his last serious relationship, Derek hasn’t really felt loneliness in his single state. The aftermath of the alpha pack and the nogitsune certainly kept him busy--finding someone to date was not high on his list of priorities, especially since Kate had come back to throw his life into chaos again. It took him a while to find peace again, to get comfortable in his own skin after being tossed around in time. Braeden was his last lover but even that wasn’t anything significant, which was obvious by his lack of reaction when she left town for another job. They’d hooked up one last time, and they still text randomly--friends who occasionally share bits of their lives. Derek has enjoyed being single, finding comfort in a pack and in developing strong friendships; he’s learned to savor the love that everyone seems to have for each other and hasn’t felt left out. He supposes Stiles has a lot to do with that, even before this whole fake boyfriend thing began.

Derek buries his face in his pillow. He knows it’s not fair to keep using Stiles in this way, both in terms of actually finding someone to date and also keeping Stiles off the market. “No more,” Derek thinks to himself. He tugs on his ear lobe one more time and then falls asleep thinking of the warmth of Stiles’ body next to his.

--

The next time they see each other, Stiles immediately goes to Derek’s side. Derek intentionally doesn’t do the signal and keeps his hands in his pockets, but Stiles goes to him anyway. Derek tries not to grin in triumph.

--

Derek is at the farmer’s market when he hears his name called. When he turns around, he sees one of his tenants, a woman on the second floor who’s married with adorable twins. She’s alone today, tugging a dog along on a leash.

“Hi, Sasha,” Derek says. “Who’s this?” He kneels to get a closer look at the puppy and ends up with an armful of pug. Derek can’t help but smile into the dog’s pout and scratch that sweet spot behind its ears. The puppy seems content in his arms, so Derek stands up and continues to cuddle it.

“This is Bucky.” She leans in and strokes his back. “We just got him last week. I’m escaping the chaos and taking him out for a walk. He might be my saving grace when the kids get to be too much.” She shrugs and smiles up at Derek.

“Oh man, who is this cutie?” Stiles says as he comes right up to them and lets the dog sniff his hand. “Hey, babe,” he says to Derek, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before returning to the dog. “Who are you? What’s your name, cutie?” He nuzzles the dog’s fur and laughs at its squirming, letting his hand brush up against Derek’s before leaning back and giving the woman his attention.

“This is Bucky, and this is Sasha,” Derek introduces. “She’s one of the tenants in the downtown complex.”

“Hi, I’m Stiles, nice to meet you.” He gives her a quick handshake. “Your puppy is adorable. We should get one!” he says as he turns to Derek, his face lighting up with glee. “Look at how cute he is,” Stiles coos before turning up and giving Derek his best puppy dog eyes.

Derek pushes Stiles’s face away, even as he laughs fondly.

Sasha laughs as well before taking Bucky back. “Actually, we got the dog from my husband’s co-worker, and they were only going to keep two from the litter. I’ll send you the number, Derek. Enjoy the rest of your day!” Sasha says as she drops Bucky to the ground. “Nice meeting you, Stiles.” With a small wave, she walks towards a vegetable stand with leash in hand.

Stiles grimaces slightly. “So, I might have misinterpreted that?”

Derek snorts. “Really?”

“Okay, so it’s possible I didn’t see the signal and just assumed that, with a woman that close to you, it was just a matter of time.” Stiles rubs his hands together anxiously as they begin to walk through the market together.

Derek stops at a stand with cider and asks for two. He pays for them and then hands one to Stiles. “She’s happily married, and she’s nice. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” He waves away Stiles’s misunderstanding nonchalantly. “It’s no big deal.”

“I’m really sorry, Derek,” Stiles says quietly. “I suppose it’s been a while since you’ve been in an awkward situation.”

“That’s true. I haven’t been hit on in a week.”

“Really?” Stiles says, disbelief coloring his voice.

“Really.” Derek shrugs as he meanders through the market, stopping at a fruit stand grabbing a bag of apples. “Most people already think we’re dating. So.”

Stiles flinches and then downs the rest of his cider before tossing the cup. “I'm sorry. Wow, I am just messing up your game.” Stiles runs his fingers through his hair as he tries to figure out his next words. “I can stop doing it, get Scott or Kira to do it. I mean, like, not the boyfriend thing because that would make you look easy and plus everyone knows they're together, but maybe more emergency stuff like what you thought we were doing in the first place,” Stiles says as he gestures with those large hands.

Derek reaches out to grab one of those flailing hands and intertwines his fingers. “Or we could just date,” he says casually, trying not to let his heart squeeze his throat too much.

Stiles abruptly stops. He stares at him, glances down at their hands, and then looks up again. He swallows loudly and then starts walking again, hand tightly gripping Derek’s. “Yeah, okay. That--that sounds like a great plan,” Stiles says, a smile twitching at the side of his mouth, threatening to burst all over his face.

Derek finally breathes again, and he pulls Stiles along as he visits all his regularly kiosks, trying not to grin every time he thinks about how perfectly they fit together, how easy it is to think of Stiles as someone more than just a friend.

Stiles walks with Derek back to his car and helps him put all the fresh vegetables and fruit away. They linger a little there, since Stiles’s jeep is a few rows over. “So,” Stiles starts, moving closer to Derek, who’s leaning against his car door.

Derek tries not to smirk when he pulls Stiles closer by his belt and hears Stiles’s heart stutter in anticipation. “So.” They stand there, eyes flitting over each other’s faces, breath mingling, hearts pulsing.

Their first kiss is sweet. Shy smiles, downcast eyes, flushed cheeks.

Their second kiss is longer, wetter. They explore slowly, getting acquainted with shape of each other’s mouths, the taste of each other’s tongues, the shiver of hands sliding against bare skin.

Their third kiss is hotter, deeper, and interrupted by an exasperated onlooker. “You boys still trying to tell me this is fake?”

Derek shuts his eyes, mortified when he hears the sheriff’s voice.

“Hey, Dad, didn’t see you there,” Stiles says into Derek’s neck, trying to steady his heart and shake the heady fog of new kisses.

“You didn’t? I can’t imagine why,” Stiles’s dad say drily. “Derek,” he says as he nods to him. “I take it you’ll drive Stiles home?”

“Yes, sir,” Derek answers promptly. He ignores the way Stiles is silently laughing at Derek’s formality and nods as Stiles’s dad walks away.

Their fourth kiss is in the car over the gear shift, a quick press of lips in anticipation of more.

Their fifth kiss is in Derek's apartment where there are no interruptions, which means their sixth and seventh and eighth kisses all blur together in a press of bodies and skin. At that point, they both lose count, but they never lose sight of each other.