Archive of Our Own ^beta

When the music began to swell, the tune hopeful and somewhat light, the screen began fading to black on the image of the main character and her boyfriend smiling at something in the distance before disappearing completely. The credits began to roll, the lights turned back on, and not a single person in the audience moved. 

This was kind of an interesting experience for him, because he’d never witnessed something so surreal, and maybe later he’d think on it and see if anyone had ever done a social experiment, but for now, he couldn’t really focus on that. 

People often had similar reactions to things, especially when it came to movies. It was why people went to the movies to begin with. 

He remembered the awe people felt when Avatar first came out. How everyone was so amazed and excited about the crazy advancements in technology that had made that movie fucking skyrocket to number one in all the charts. 

He remembered the absolute insanity that was Avengers: End Game, the way the whole theatre had exploded in excitement at so many scenes, the clapping, the crying, the cheering. It had been like watching a God damn real life event instead of a movie on a screen. Probably one of the coolest movie-going experiences he’d ever had. 

He could think of so many different movies that he’d gone to see in theatres, the way people had reacted, the excited chatter before the movie started, the even more excited chatter after a movie ended. The theories and the recaps and all the stuff people had noticed that someone else had missed. 

Hell, it had taken him his third watch-through of The Batman to realize that the reason Selina and Batman had a shared look during the voicemail scene was because she’d told him her mother had been strangled and they’d never caught the culprit. In that moment, they both knew who the culprit was, and he couldn’t believe he’d missed it the first two times he’d watched that movie. 

This, though? This was different. This was new. 

Of course, not everyone had to like a movie. He himself had many movies he’d gone to where he was annoyed at having wasted money, or borderline offended to have wasted his time, which was much worse than wasting money. Bad movies existed, especially because everyone’s opinion was different. 

This wasn’t just a bad movie though. This wasn’t something he’d ever seen or experienced before. This was such a blatant slap in the face to each and every single fan of the franchise that it wasn’t only him sitting there in shocked silence as the credits rolled, but the entire fucking theatre. 

No one had gotten up. No one.

And no one had spoken. The credits started to roll, and they all just sat there. Staring. In shock. 

A part of him was trying to figure out if maybe they’d all been like, taken over by the government or something. Maybe this was a government project and they’d had their minds invaded and they were now going to be controlled like robots to do the government’s bidding. 

But no. That wasn’t what happened. 

The movie was just that bad and offensive that the entire theatre was stunned into shocked silence. 

“What the fuck did I just watch?” 

And like that, the spell broke. 

One random guy at the front of the theatre uttered those words, and it was like people remembered how to move, how to speak. 

Stiles Stilinski gave a full body jerk, as if trying to reacquaint himself with movement, and he whipped his head around to look at his best friend, words failing him. 

Words never failed him, he could talk forever about nothing. But in this moment, he had... nothing. His brain was moving so fast he couldn’t latch onto a single word, let alone form a coherent sentence.

Besides, the guy at the front of the room had basically said what they were all thinking. 

“Well that was... I mean, we got a movie, at least. Better than nothing,” his best friend, Scott McCall, said with a small shrug. 

An inhuman noise left Stiles’ lips. He wished he could replicate it, because he could probably make bank being a voice actor with a noise like that. 

“Nothing would have been infinitely better!” Stiles said loudly, pointing towards the screen where the credits continued to roll. He wanted to shoot out the speakers right now with that happy, hopeful, jovial little song playing. What a load of horseshit! “That was a fucking war crime!” 

“That’s a little unfair,” Scott said, looking over at the screen, like he was scared to look at Stiles. “I mean, we were all pushing and pressing for more after the show ended, and we should be grateful we got a movie. And that almost all the cast came back. I think we’re lucky that we got closure and we know how everyone got on after the show ended. And now we know how they’re all going to get on definitively.” 

Stiles stared at Scott like he was speaking another language, because what the fuck was coming out of his mouth?! 

“Are you concussed?” Stiles asked him seriously, because he was kind of worried Scott had banged his head without him noticing and was suffering some major internal bleeding in his cranial area. 

“I mean, I’ll never say it was good,” Scott insisted, glancing at him with a shrug. “But I’m not mad the movie happened. I like knowing how it all ends, and seeing them all moving on with life.” 

What the fuck? 

“Thomas Kent fucking died, Scott!” He managed not to shout, but it was a near thing. His voice was definitely the loudest in the din of angry movie-goers, that was for sure, because a lot of people turned to look at him. “The angry, tortured, in desperate need of a hug and therapy and love and understanding character was fucking drowned! To death!” Stiles was slapping at his thigh angrily as he spoke, and was actually kind of hurting himself, but he couldn’t make himself stop.

There were seven main characters in the TV show, and while the main character was awesome and people loved her, there were two supporting characters that were clearly the fan favourites. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with the main character, it was just that the two supporting characters were extremely talented actors and had great stories. 

One of these two supporting characters had made the very smart decision to decline to return, but the other had opted to come back and do the movie. How he’d read the script and nodded to himself thinking, “Yeah, this looks like an awesome ending for my character,” Stiles would never understand. 

It was offensive, honestly. The character had suffered so much throughout the entire show, and had finally been in a good place by the end of the last episode of the last season. Stiles would even go so far as to say he’d been happy! The character in question, Thomas Kent, was not a happy person, and to have seen the way the show ended for him had been really nice. Someone who’d gone through such hardship had finally found love and acceptance and friendship, all neatly wrapped up in a lovely box of found family. 

And then the movie came out, and he died. 

He died. He was fucking drowned. 

To death!

Stiles couldn’t get over it, because it was such a shitty thing to do when considering that most of that character’s trauma throughout the entire eight season run of the show was that he’d almost died as a child by drowning! And he’d been tortured with water! 

And it was how his parents had died! Their car had gone over a guardrail and into the crashing waves of the ocean below. The two parents had literally drowned, unable to free themselves, and little Thomas Kent had himself almost suffered the same fate if not for the quick action of people who’d happened to be passing by on a boat. They’d managed to save him, but the character had—understandably—been traumatized for life and had a very reasonable fear of water. 

So not only had they killed this character, who’d suffered so greatly for eight seasons, they’d killed him by drowning him! 

To death!

Stiles was going to find the writers and personally visit their homes to get them psych evaluations because they clearly needed therapy or something. 

Of all the ways they could have killed Thomas, they chose that? That?! That was so fucked up, and also, why kill him at all?! It didn’t make the story better! Even if the actor decided this would be the last thing he did in this universe, that didn’t mean they had to kill him! Thomas had suffered so much, Stiles couldn’t believe this was happening, he wanted to write a strongly worded letter to the creator and personally deliver it to him so he could choke him with it. 

“It sucks he died,” Scott agreed, sounding like he really meant it, too. Thomas was never Scott’s favourite character, which Stiles thought was weird personally, but he didn’t judge. “I don’t think they needed to kill him off, but I mean, he sacrificed himself to save his friends.” 

Stiles’ mouth dropped open, and this time, he didn’t manage to hold back the outraged shout. “That doesn’t make it better!” 

“I said I agree with you,” Scott insisted, looking a little distressed. “I don’t think he had to die, I’m just saying he died nobly. He sacrificed himself. He made his death mean something!” 

Honestly, he had the best comeback to that. He did. Had it all ready and planned out in his brain and everything. Stiles inhaled deeply, ready to go on a year-long tirade, as well as officially start a ‘protect Thomas Kent at all costs’ club, but he didn’t get the chance.

Because just as he’d inhaled to let loose on Scott, a voice spoke up from behind him and he whipped around. 

“Your friend is right, Thomas’ death was unnecessary, and the worst decision they ever made. Considering the show was not lacking in poor decisions when it came to the script, that’s saying something. I didn’t know it was possible for them to make a bad thing worse.” 

Stiles whipped around to look at the guy who’d spoken, throwing both hands out towards him, happy some random stranger agreed with him over his best friend! “Thank you! Someone who understands!” 

“I think most of the theatre understands, if the silence that followed the ending was anything to go by,” the guy’s friend said.

Well, Stiles thought it was his friend. The people on either side of them had already gotten up to leave, so the two sitting there staring at the screen made it seem fairly likely they were friends. 

Though staring at the screen maybe wasn’t the right word to use. The second guy who’d spoken was scowling slightly, still kind of in the realm of staring, but obviously angry. He was sitting with his arms crossed, muscles bulging against the sleeves of his T-shirt, and hot damn did he have muscle. 

The first guy who’d spoken was definitely as livid as Stiles was about the whole thing, because he was slouched low in his seat, hands shoved deep into the pockets of a black leather jacket, positively glaring at the screen. Like if he did so hard enough, maybe he could light the whole thing on fire and they could all pretend this trainwreck of a movie had never happened. 

How they’d done Thomas dirty like that, Stiles would never understand! 

“You agree that it’s fucked up, right? Having him die the same way his parents did? The way he almost did when he was younger?” Stiles asked, needing the validation. He just needed to make sure he wasn’t alone in his anger. 

The first guy’s angry gaze shot to Stiles, green eyes boring into his, and he said, “The most fucked up thing they’ve done in this series to date.” 

“Thank you!” Stiles shouted again, turning to Scott and giving him an insistent look. “Fucked up, Scott. All kinds of fucked up.” 

“It also makes you wonder what the point was of his character, to be honest,” the second guy piped in, arms still crossed and eyes on the screen. “Like, why even bother with him being all sad and tortured if you weren’t going to let him live his life in peace and happiness after?” 

“Life is depressing enough without movies and TV shows telling you there’s no happiness at the end of anything,” the grumpy guy muttered, seeming to be sliding further down in his seat. 

Stiles suspected it was because he was pushing his hands so hard against the inside of his jacket he was subconsciously sliding further down in an attempt not to rip right through the pockets. 

“I mean,” Scott said hesitantly, and three sets of eyes shot to him instantly. It looked like he was wishing he hadn’t said anything. “I just—his death was probably supposed to be heroic.”

“There’s nothing heroic about it!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger into Scott’s face. “Nothing! It was not heroic, Scott! It was insulting! It was basically a kick in the face by someone wearing fucking cleats!” 

“That would probably hurt less than this movie did,” the grumpy guy insisted. He kind of looked like grumpy cat, honestly. Not that Stiles blamed him, he was sure he looked like a fucking feral raccoon right now, he was so mad. 

“Again, I’m not saying the movie was good—” Scott started. 

“Good thing, or we’d all be concerned,” the second dude behind them said.

“—but I appreciate that they wanted to give us fans what we asked for. Which was a continuation of a beloved show.” 

“This is—this is not what we asked for,” Stiles insisted, his stomach dropping at the thought that Scott was actually happy to have gotten this. “Scott, this was in no way what we asked for. We wanted a continuation, yes, but like...” 

Words were failing him again. He was still so angry. And upset. 

And just overall disappointed. 

He wished he hadn’t watched it. He should’ve just left off with how the show ended, everyone alive and happy and ready to move forward. He shouldn’t have watched the movie, that had been a mistake. 

It wasn’t like it was a secret that the showrunners made terrible decisions when it came to their own show, so why he’d had actual faith in them not fucking the movie up, he had no idea. Really, it was his own fault. 

He hadn’t even set the bar high for the movie! The bar was so incredibly low, like mid-shin height, and they somehow managed to get it subterranean. That was talent. A bad talent, but still a talent. 

“At least Clark survived this garbage, but mostly because the actor was smart enough not to come back,” the second guy said, eyes having returned to the screen so he was scowling a little bit once more. 

“Definitely dodged a bullet,” Stiles agreed with a nod. 

“He probably got a copy of the script and burned it as a response to whether or not he wanted to come back,” grumpy cat muttered, still trying to light the screen on fire with his eyes alone. 

Stiles was definitely happy that the second fan favourite, Clark Treadway, had indeed been absent from the movie. There had been rumours of a cameo, but thankfully that was all they were. Rumours. The screenplay was so bad they hadn’t even addressed where he was, they’d just had a passing comment about Clark’s character and the fact that he wasn’t in town. 

Which, no shit, because he wasn’t fucking there! They could’ve thrown something in that showed at least a little more effort. Like, he was a pilot or something for Air Force One, so he couldn’t be around in case the president needed him. Or he was undercover as a spy in a foreign country and thus radio silent with no idea what was happening back home. Or even that he was on his fucking honeymoon with the woman of his dreams! 

Stiles would’ve taken any explanation. Instead, they got bubkes. 

The credits had finished rolling by now, and while most of the theatre had emptied out, there were still quite a few people lingering. Most of them were probably in shock, though a group near the front were having a loud, heated debate the same way Stiles, Scott and his two new friends were.

They couldn’t stick around any longer though, since the theatre staff were beginning to clean up around the area, and Stiles knew there was another showing in about twenty minutes. 

The fucking blasphemy of another showing of this movie. 

“We should literally save other people from this,” Stiles insisted, turning to look at the guys behind him. 

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” the second guy said, turning to his friend and uncrossing his arms enough to nudge him with an elbow. “You calm enough to get out of here?” 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be calm again,” grumpy cat muttered, but he obediently levered himself out of his seat—hands still in his pockets, Stiles had no idea how he managed that—and began walking down the aisle towards the stairs leading down to the front. His friend followed, and Stiles and Scott did the same one row down. 

Grumpy cat was waiting on his friend at the end, so Stiles ended up going down first, grumpy cat behind him, then his friend, and Scott taking up the rear like he wanted to let the three angriest people ahead of him so he didn’t die. 

When they walked out of the theatre, Stiles saw people lined up outside the door, waiting to get in so they could snag the best seats. How he wished their small theatre had assigned seating, but alas... 

He could tell the crowd looked a little apprehensive, probably wondering about the movie since this was the first showing, and he doubted anyone who’d exited before them had been overly enthusiastic. 

“Save your time and money,” Stiles said as he walked past the people at the front. “It’s not worth it.” 

“Definitely not,” grumpy cat agreed angrily from behind him. 

The four of them walked towards the exit together, not entirely on purpose, but Stiles wasn’t mad about having two other people who seemed as offended as he was by the garbage he’d just watched. Scott probably only felt okay about the movie because he wasn’t a big fan of Thomas, but Stiles had to admit he’d at least acknowledged the movie hadn’t been good. 

Which was comforting, otherwise he’d have had a lot of questions. 

“What are people saying on social media?” grumpy cat asked, Stiles turning and seeing that his friend had his phone out. He stopped instinctively when they were in the main lobby part of the theatre, standing a bit out of the way so they didn’t block traffic for people coming and going. He hadn’t intended to stop, but it was polite when a friend was on their phone to make sure they didn’t walk into any pillar, or people, or lamp posts. 

Something Scott had yet to learn, since Stiles often walked into things while he was looking at stuff on his phone when they were together. 

It also occurred to him he wasn’t friends with these two people, but they’d stopped when he did and neither of them seemed to mind sticking together. They probably wanted to rant as much as Stiles did and figured a group would be more cathartic. 

“People are pissed,” the second dude agreed, thumb swiping upwards as he scrolled on what Stiles assumed was Tumblr or Twitter. “Oh...”

“What?” Stiles asked, leaning closer and resisting the urge to try and look at the guy’s screen. He could do that with his friends, but he didn’t know this guy, and that’d be rude. 

Man was it tempting, though. 

“Clark’s actor posted on Twitter.” 

“What’d he say?” grumpy cat asked. 

When the other man turned his phone around to show them both, it was open on Clark Treadway’s actor’s Twitter page. 

The post was one word. 

Well. 

That was it. Just well. It was followed up with a ‘yikes’ emoji.

“He agrees it was a bad move,” Stiles said. “I am fluent in this kind of ‘what the fuck’ language, and he is not happy with the outcome.” 

“He was smart enough not to come back,” the guy agreed, turning the phone back around to face himself. “I don’t think anyone’s going to have anything positive to say about this movie. It makes me want to binge the show just so I can pretend I never saw this.” 

“Only season three, that was the best one,” grumpy cat insisted. 

“Dude!” Stiles agreed, slapping grumpy cat in the chest with the back of his hand and grinning. “Season three was so good! Man, that character development for Clark? Fucking chef’s kiss.” 

“By far the best season they put out,” grumpy cat agreed with a nod. 

Stiles grinned at him, pleased he agreed, and then realized with a start how fucking insane fandom could be. Here he was, in a theatre with his best friend, having watched a horrible movie about his favourite TV show, and he was somehow chilling in the lobby with two dudes he’d never met before because they were all equal levels of offended at how awful the movie was. 

“I’m Stiles, by the way,” he said, realizing how weird it was that they were all acting like old friends. The joys of fandom. “This is Scott.” 

“Derek,” grumpy cat informed him, arms crossed over his chest. He nodded his head towards his friend, who was still on his phone. “That’s Boyd.” 

“Nice to meet you.” He beamed at him. “Sucks about the circumstances.” 

“Yeah,” Derek agreed, looking at what Boyd was doing briefly before facing him again. “I guess this is why fanfiction exists.” 

“You write fanfiction?” Scott asked, sounding adorably confused. 

“No, but his girlfriend does.” Derek nodded his head towards Boyd again. “She was the smart one.” 

“She didn’t come,” Boyd agreed, almost solemnly. “She told us we’d regret it.” 

“We should stop doubting her. She’s never wrong when it comes to fandom.” 

“She’s already laughing.” Boyd sighed, obviously having texted said girlfriend at some point since the movie’s end and now. 

“Of course she is.” Derek was scowling slightly, like he was annoyed she was laughing at them.

Or maybe jealous she’d been smart enough not to ruin a good thing. Stiles felt like he was jealous of her for not having ruined a good thing. Why hadn’t he waited? He should’ve waited at least one day. Just long enough to put the feelers out and see what people thought. 

At least then he would’ve known immediately that they were gonna do Thomas fucking dirty like that. Seriously, he was so pissed. 

“I need to go,” Boyd said, looking over at Derek. “Apparently she wanted to make my night worse by scheduling dinner with her parents.” 

One side of Derek’s lips turned up, the guy obviously amused, and Stiles was somewhat surprised at how different he looked all of a sudden with that one action. He was willing to bet he had a killer smile, holy fuck. 

“I’ll text you later,” Derek said, Boyd nodding to him while shoving his phone in his pocket. He bid Scott and Stiles farewell, saying it was nice to meet them, and headed for the exit relatively quickly, suggesting he had a ride outside waiting for him.

“I need to head back too,” Scott said, wincing at the time. “I have papers to finish grading for tomorrow, so I need to get back to it.” 

“Should’ve started sooner,” Stiles insisted, which earned him a light shove from Scott. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Yup.” Stiles saluted him and watched Scott head for the exit as well, Boyd already long gone. 

When he faced forward again, he realized he and Derek were both still kind of standing there. Derek had changed positions so that he was now standing with both hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans as opposed to his arms crossed, but he still looked relatively grumpy. 

It was kind of adorable. 

Rocking forward on the balls of his feet, and then back, Stiles made a small popping sound with his lips before saying, “So you wanna go grab a bite and rant some more about how trash this movie was?” 

“Fuck yes,” Derek said, with feeling. 

Stiles grinned and motioned towards the exit with flourish before falling into step beside Derek, the two of them already beginning to catalogue the many, many, many horrible things they’d endured in that movie. 

“Okay, I’m willing to agree with you that Thomas would absolutely be better in bed, but you have to admit that Clark would make the better husband,” Stiles insisted, licking ketchup off his thumb after a particularly large bite and continuing to chew what was in his mouth. 

The fact that he was still speaking despite his mouth being full didn’t seem to bother Derek in the slightest, which was a good sign for their friendship right there, because Stiles was not a classy dude. 

“I can concede on that point,” Derek agreed, dragging a fry through the mound of mayonnaise he had on the edge of his tray and popping it into his mouth. “I never said Thomas would make the better husband, just that he’s probably amazing in bed.” 

“With those muscles, I don’t doubt it.” Stiles winked over-exaggeratedly, then took another bite of his burger, licking ketchup from the corner of his mouth before chewing enough to tuck the food into his cheek. He might have overdone it with the ketchup, this burger was delicious, but way saucier than usual. “I like to cuddle, though. I feel like Clark would give nice cuddles.” 

Derek just tilted his head slightly in a silent show of agreement and popped two more mayonnaise-dipped fries into his mouth. 

Stiles had to admit, he had absolutely no idea how he was sitting in a Five Guys across from a dude hot enough to be a model talking about two characters from a TV show and their abilities in the bedroom, but he was kind of digging it. 

He wasn’t entirely sure how they’d gotten onto the topic, if he was honest, but he felt like it might have been when Derek slipped up about Boyd’s girlfriend’s fanfiction. Apparently she wrote fanfiction for the show they were talking about, and happened to write for the Thark pairing—that being Thomas Kent and Clark Treadway. Derek had accidentally mentioned at one point during their epic two hour long discussion that he read all of her work, and while Stiles himself wasn’t really a fanfiction kind of guy, only an idiot—or a homophobe—wouldn’t be able to see the clear chemistry between Thomas and Clark. 

It would’ve been such a good relationship, and he and Derek had been talking about it for a majority of their coffee at Starbucks after they’d left the theatre. Eventually they’d migrated to Five Guys for some much-needed food and were still talking about it. 

Stiles wasn’t mad. He was the complete opposite of mad, in point of fact. He was having a great time right now, and it was all thanks to a horrible movie! 

He’d actually kind of joked with Derek when they’d sat down for coffee that he was surprised someone who looked like him—that is to say, like a fucking marble statue—was into a show like that. It was so cheesy, and the writing was subpar at best, but Stiles liked it because of the characters. 

Apparently, that was why Derek liked it, too. He admitted he’d started watching it with his sister as a kind of ‘bonding’ thing when they’d both been going to the same university on the other side of the country. She’d dropped it after a few seasons, and while he’d admitted to not liking the show so much, he really liked the characters and it kept him engaged enough to keep watching. 

Stiles was glad he wasn’t the only one who was genuinely upset about how rough Thomas’ life had been, and for them to do him dirty like that in the movie was uncool. 

“So,” Stiles said, burger hovering by his mouth and ketchup dripping out of the bottom, “much as I like bashing on our favourite show with you, I feel like we need to move on with our discussion so we can enter a place of healing. We’ll never forget the time and money wasted, but we can learn from this experience and just know to boycott the next movie.” 

Derek snorted at that, shaking his head slightly, the barest hint of a smile forming on his lips as he looked down into his bag of fries and pulled a few more out to drag through the mayonnaise on his tray. 

“I don’t think they’ll be able to afford to make another movie after that disaster.” 

“You are not wrong,” Stiles agreed, wagging his burger at Derek with one hand, then taking a bite out of it. He chewed for a few seconds, trying to think about other shows they might’ve both seen so they could move away from the horrors of their day. “You seen The Mandalorian?” 

Derek gave him a look. “Who hasn’t?” 

“Scott,” Stiles said. “He’s never seen Star Wars.” 

“Who managed to grow up without ever seeing Star Wars?” Derek asked, sounding crossed between offended and confused. 

“Scott,” Stiles repeated. “Doesn’t like cowboys, or space travel. He’s never seen Star Trek, either.” 

“He didn’t seem to be a fan of Thomas, so he’s clearly got bad taste.”

“Normally I’d agree with you, but I have to say you’re wrong, his taste is impeccable,” Stiles informed him, wagging his half-eaten burger at him again. 

“Really? And why’s that?” 

“Because he’s friends with me. Obviously.” Stiles smirked and took another bite of his burger. 

Derek said nothing for a second, like he was letting the words sink in, and then he let out the smallest laugh Stiles had ever heard, shaking his head and looking back into his bag of fries. 

Jesus, this guy was cute. He seemed a little quiet overall based on what little Stiles had learned about him over the past few hours, but he listened with his entire being. Stiles could tell whenever he was speaking that Derek was completely one-hundred percent focussed on him, listening to every word he said. It was actually kind of nice, if he was honest. 

Stiles talked a lot. He knew he talked a lot. It was because of how his brain worked, and he’d come to terms with it long ago. He also knew for a fact that people zoned out a lot when he talked. They’d listen up to a point, and then when he got too involved in minor details, or went off on tangents, or just talked too much in general, they stopped listening. 

Not on purpose, or so Scott said, but Stiles knew he could be a little much sometimes, so he didn’t get bothered by people losing focus and no longer paying attention to him when he was talking, especially if it was about something uninteresting.

Well, uninteresting to whoever he was talking to, at any rate. 

But Derek hadn’t zoned out once in the hours they’d been together, which was impressive. He seemed genuinely interested in everything Stiles had to say—which was a lot—and even seemed to be engaged when Stiles was going off on tangents not related to what they were talking about at all. 

It was a new experience for him, and he kind of liked it. 

“Guess he has some taste,” Derek said after a brief silence that had Stiles pause in taking another bite of his burger. 

“That sounded suspiciously like a compliment.” 

“Don’t twist my words around.” Derek was still digging through his bag for more fries, but Stiles had the distinct feeling it was as a means to avoid looking up at him.

Realizing Derek was legitimately enjoying their time together as much as Stiles was felt really nice. He loved fandom for this very reason, it was why he was on Discord. He didn’t do the whole fanfiction thing, but he loved fandom. And this was just cementing that, because Derek was a fun dude. 

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, Stiles finishing off his burger a bit more civilly than he had been, but he noticed Derek scowling down into his bag every now and then before seeming to catch himself and smoothing his features out. Stiles wasn’t positive, but he felt like the guy thought he’d said something wrong and that was why Stiles had stopped talking.

He didn’t let him angst about it for long, and started talking to him about the newest shows slated to come out on Disney+, including the screen adaptation of Percy Jackson and the Olympians, which he was stoked for. 

If they ruined it like the movies had, there would be blood. Stiles was getting tired of his loves being ruined, the movie he’d just sat through being a prime example. 

They were long finished their meals and had moved far away from Disney+ by the time one of their phones went off. Stiles was actually amazed it had taken that long, but he supposed most people were probably out doing things on a Saturday night, so it wasn’t that unusual. 

The phone ended up being Derek’s, and he pulled it out of his pocket, checking the main screen before frowning, shifting to unlock it and beginning to type a few moments later. He looked both annoyed and frustrated, which Stiles felt was interesting because they were such similar emotions and yet were clearly defined as two different things on Derek’s face. 

“I have to go,” he muttered, letting out what was definitely an annoyed sigh, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “My sister’s car broke down and she needs a ride home.” 

“That sucks, I hope it’s not serious. Mechanics are not the kindest when it comes to labour, her wallet’s gonna take a hit.”

“Her problem,” Derek said while getting to his feet, gathering his trash and Stiles’. 

“You’re so empathic,” Stiles teased with a grin, standing as well while chasing his straw with his tongue, finally managing to get it into his mouth so he could slurp loudly at the meagre remainder of his Coke. 

“She’s my sister, empathy doesn’t exist for her.” 

Stiles just made a noise of understanding, the slurping obnoxiously loud, but Derek didn’t seem to mind, holding the small flap for the trash open until Stiles was done so he could toss it in more easily. 

He was an only child, as were most of his friends, but he watched enough TV to know siblings could somehow love and hate each other at the same time. After all, Derek might say her car being broken down was his sister’s problem, but she’d texted him for a ride and he was still going to get her. 

Stiles reached the door first, pushing it open and twisting to hold it for Derek, who nodded a thanks while walking out. They hadn’t ventured far from the theatre, since it was in a sort of outlet where both the Starbucks and the Five Guys were, so they headed back through the main part of the area to get to their respective cars. 

He was kind of embarrassed for Derek to see his, and hoped that they ended up at the other man’s first so that he’d leave before Stiles climbed into his Jeep. 

It was older than he was, but he loved that damn thing and was going to get buried with it. 

Or like, the steering wheel, at least, since it’d be a huge hunk of metal to bury with him.

“I’m over that way,” Derek said when they were closer to the theatre, motioning across the lot to the far side. 

“Oh, I’m actually over there.” Stiles thumbed over his shoulder, hoping it was vague enough that Derek wouldn’t be able to tell he was referring to two rows over. “I guess this is where we part ways.” 

“Yeah.” 

“It was super cool meeting you.” Stiles felt like that was such a lame thing to say, but it was true. He’d had a ton of fun hanging out with Derek, and was kind of sad to see him go. 

Not only because he was very nice to look at, though he was. Like, really nice to look at. 

“You too,” Derek agreed. 

They both stood there, Stiles feeling a little awkward. In his defence, he’d never made friendly with a random dude in a movie theatre because of their bonding over horrible choices showrunners had made before. This was a bit of a new experience for him. 

“Well uh, drive safe.” 

“You too,” Derek repeated. 

Stiles raised one hand in an awkward farewell, beginning to walk backwards. Derek didn’t move, and Stiles saw one of his hands slowly curl into a fist before loosening again. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he also didn’t really want to go. 

He’d had tons of fun talking to Derek, and honestly, it was nice having someone listen to him. Actually listen. Attentively, even. 

Derek hadn’t really said much, so Stiles barely knew anything about him. Derek, on the other hand, could probably list off any number of things about Stiles, and while he acknowledged that was his own fault for being chatty, he also felt like he wanted the opportunity to get to know Derek more. 

He could be a good listener too, he just needed Derek to talk a bit more. 

“Hey,” Stiles blurted out before he lost his nerve. “Not to be like, super weird or anything, but did you want to like—exchange contacts or, you know, Discord or Twitter or whatever?”

Derek’s phone was in his hand faster than Stiles could finish his sentence. He’d also moved forward a few steps to close the distance that had begun to form. 

“I’m fine with anything you’re comfortable sharing.” 

“I’m a texting kinda guy,” Stiles informed him, holding his hand out for Derek to hand over his phone. He went into his contacts to put his number in, and then texted himself so he had Derek’s, handing the phone back once he was done, resisting the urge to grin at him. 

Derek took his phone back with a small smile of his own, turning it around to look at it, and staring down a little too long at the outgoing message. 

It occurred to Stiles then that Derek’s reaction from moments ago had been about this. Keeping in touch. Stiles wasn’t really good with social cues, and while he didn’t think Derek was shy or anything—considering how they’d met, definitely not—he felt like he was maybe... unsure. 

Like he didn’t know how to people, or something. 

Stiles felt like he did just fine with him, but maybe it was because they complemented each other so well. Stiles was used to people zoning him out, and maybe Derek was used to people finding his attention and staring uncomfortable or awkward. If that was the case, then they were both probably feeling the same way, and Stiles was more than happy to keep this conversation going. 

“Thanks,” Derek said, tucking his phone away and offering Stiles a small smile. “Have a good night.” 

“You too!” Stiles waved one hand in farewell, then turned to start walking for the Jeep. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see Derek had done the same, which was a big contrast to mere moments ago where Stiles had been walking backwards and Derek hadn’t moved an inch. 

Grinning to himself and pulling his phone out, he stared down at the new message on his home screen, kind of excited at the realization that a shitty movie had earned him a new friend. 

[Derek]
I don’t think that’s how that works Stiles
[Derek]
For one thing you’d need a crane
[Derek]
For another you’d get arrested 

[Stiles]
BUT THINK OF THE ENTERTAINMENT VALUE!

[Derek]
Seeing you arrested by your dad DOES sound like it’d be entertaining 

[Stiles]
:O
[Stiles]
that was rude
[Stiles]
rude derek is rude

[Derek]
Might be rude but I’d be entertained

“Stiles!” 

Stiles jumped, looking up from his phone and turning to Scott, who was sitting beside him on the couch looking defeated. 

“What? What’s up?” Stiles asked, slouched low in his seat with both hands around his phone, thumbs poised to respond to Derek’s last message. 

With something witty, too. He’d be witty, he could feel it, he just needed to snatch the witty comment right out of his brain. Any second now. It was coming! 

“Are you even watching this?” 

Stiles glanced at the TV, a little surprised to see what part of the season they were in. How long had he been texting with Derek? At least four episodes, that was for sure. 

He didn’t know why Scott wanted to re-watch their favourite show together after the horrors of the movie the previous weekend, but he figured he was trying to use it as a palette cleanser. They were on season two, which wasn’t a terrible season, but there wasn’t a lot of Thomas in this season and that guy was serious eye candy. 

Not that Clark wasn’t nice to look at too, but Thomas tended to be mostly naked a lot whereas Clark always seemed to have clothes on so it was harder to ogle him through his clothes. 

“I’m watching,” Stiles insisted, turning back to Scott. He got an unconvinced look for that and flapped one hand at his friend. “I am! I’m watching!” 

“No you’re not,” Scott sighed, leaning back further into the couch cushions and looking over at Stiles. “Who are you texting anyway?” 

“Derek.” Stiles was looking back at his phone, Derek having changed the subject and thus foiling Stiles’ brilliant plans for a witty comeback. 

What a jerk. It’d have been a good one, too. 

“Who?” 

“Derek,” Stiles repeated, answering Derek’s question and struggling not to laugh. What a fucking nerd. Seriously, this guy. Stiles was kind of in love. 

“Who’s Derek?” 

Stiles turned to his friend, confused. “What?” 

“Who. Is. Derek?” Scott asked, enunciating each word slowly, as if he thought Stiles was having trouble understanding him. 

Which he was, a little bit. What the hell did he mean, who was Derek? 

“My friend? From last weekend?” 

Scott’s eyebrows flew up. “Wait, that’s who you’ve been texting this whole week? I thought you were writing your usual essays back and forth with Jackson.” 

“Nah, he’s at the cabin right now. You know he doesn’t get service in the mountains.” Stiles waved one hand in dismissal, smirking slightly at his own words because it was always funny imagining Jackson foaming at the mouth, desperate to get back on Instagram to see how many followers he’d gained or lost. 

His friend’s mandatory family trip every year was the highlight of Stiles’ life, because he always ranted and raged the week leading up to it, and then ranted and raged even more the week he got back. It wasn’t that Jackson didn’t like the mountains, because his family owned a gorgeous cabin up there, but the place had no Wi-Fi and shoddy reception, so Jackson went into social media withdrawal. 

For someone with over one-hundred thousand Instagram followers, the struggle was real. Stiles found it funny, though he did kind of feel for the guy given it had taken Jackson a long time to get that many followers.

Still, it was funny. 

“I didn’t even know you had his number,” Scott said, Stiles momentarily losing track of the conversation because of his distraction over Jackson. Then he remembered they were talking about Derek. 

“Oh. Yeah, no, we exchanged last weekend after dinner.” 

“You guys had dinner?” Scott looked concerned. “Stiles, what if he’s like, a serial killer or something?” 

“Then he’d have been a shitty one if he killed me in the middle of dinner at Five Guys.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “We bonded over our hatred of the movie that shall not be named, and he’s actually really funny.” 

“What do you guys even talk about that you haven’t run out of things to say yet?”

“We don’t talk that often,” Stiles insisted, rolling his eyes. 

Scott raised his eyebrows at him, then pointedly looked at his phone. Rolling his eyes again, Stiles shifted his right hand so he could use his index finger to scroll, wanting to prove to Scott that it wasn’t as much as he thought. Sure, he and Derek had been texting daily since last Saturday, but it still wasn’t that much. 

Stiles continued to scroll.

And scroll.

And scroll. 

And okay yeah, maybe he and Derek were texting a lot... 

“He’s funny!” Stiles flapped one hand at Scott in an attempt to get him to drop the smug look on his stupid face. “And he’s watched The Mandalorian, so he’s already automatically cooler than you.” 

Scott let out an offended noise, shoving at Stiles lightly before pushing himself off the couch so he could change the disc in the player to the next one. 

Stiles hadn’t even noticed the episode had ended. He hoped they got to season three soon, it was the best one. 

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and looked down at his phone, seeing that Derek had sent another message, the screen having scrolled all the way back down to it. 

[Derek]
What are you up to on this exciting Friday night? 

[Stiles]
scott’s here
[Stiles]
we’re watching THE show O_O
[Stiles]
season 2 so far

[Derek]
Oh what season?
[Derek]
Season 2 is good
[Derek]
Season 3 is better

[Stiles]
AMEN!
[Stiles]
and not just because we get to see more naked tommy ;) 

[Derek]
Naked Thomas DOES help but I’m more partial to Clark
[Derek]
You kind of look like him a little bit actually 

[Stiles]
AWWWWWW are you calling me cute? 

Stiles cackled to himself after sending the message, adding in a few of the blowing hearts emoji. He heard Scott sigh beside him, his friend shaking his head at Stiles’ antics. He’d probably given up trying to watch the show with Stiles, but at least had to know Stiles would start paying attention during the third season.

Seriously, he loved the third season. 

When Derek replied, Stiles’ cackling died down instantly, and he stared at his screen, somewhat surprised. 

[Derek]
I mean yes
[Derek]
You’re effortlessly cute 
[Derek]
Even when you’re shoving a burger in your face 

Wait, what? For real? Was he—was this—? 

It had been a long time since Stiles had flirted with someone, he felt kind of out of his element all of a sudden. He was good with joking and teasing, but legitimate flirting?! He was so off his game, holy shit. 

He was honestly surprised that Derek even liked guys, if he was honest. Then again, he probably should’ve clued in when Derek had been talking about the Thark pairing, so that was kind of his bad. Stiles himself had been talking about how hot the actor who played Thomas was for basically half an hour during their first meeting, so Derek wouldn’t have had any problems picking up that Stiles was bisexual. 

How embarrassing, Stiles had no idea how to flirt back. 

His fingers hovered over his keyboard, mind going a mile a minute as he struggled to think of something to say—really, anything would work right now, it’d be nice if his brain would just formulate some kind of sentence! 

His screen jumped up again and he hastily started typing at Derek’s last message. 

[Derek]
Sorry that was probably weird 
[Derek]
I shouldn’t have said that

[Stiles]
NONONO
[Stiles]
YOU CALLED ME CUTE
[Stiles]
YOU CAN’T TAKE IT NBACK!

[Derek]
Sorry
[Derek]
It was probably still weird

[Stiles]
why is it weird?
[Stiles]
i kept wondering if you were made of marble when we first met :P

[Derek]
?
[Derek]
Oh wait
[Derek]
You’re ridiculous

[Stiles]
it’s what makes me so cuuuuuuuute~ 

[Derek]
You’re going to be intolerable aren’t you? 

[Stiles]
i am a veritable DELIGHT

[Derek]
Keep telling yourself that

[Stiles]
|<

[Derek]
:)
[Derek]
Anyway
[Derek]
I have dinner with my family

[Stiles]
have fuuuuun~ 

[Derek]
Thanks
[Derek]
You too :) 

Stiles smiled at his phone, resisting the urge to flail like an idiot, because Derek had called him cute. That was actually such an ego boost for him, because he was used to people thinking Scott was cute. Stiles knew they’d both grown up and their appearances had changed drastically since they were younger, but despite being told every now and then that he was a good looking guy, he still remembered feeling second rate to Scott.

And Jackson. That guy had cheekbones for days. 

It was hard growing up feeling like everyone else around him was more attractive than he was, but to know that someone like Derek thought he was cute felt really nice. And he actually really liked Derek. 

Probably an unhealthy amount, considering their brief friendship of not even a full week. 

But it was hard to think that way! They literally texted all the time, even if he hadn’t realized how much until Scott had called him out on it. While he’d have liked to get to know Derek more in person, he seemed a lot chattier via text messages. 

Stiles figured he felt like he had more time to choose his words carefully so he didn’t say something weird. Not that Stiles thought he was weird, but Derek obviously wasn’t super confident in his social skills, case and point being what he’d said moments before. 

It was fine learning more about him via texting though, he just wished Derek was a bit more confident, was all. Stiles himself had no brain-mouth filter, and he did okay. Besides, he and Derek had the exact same dark sense of humour, so he was stuck with Stiles now. 

No way was he letting Derek get away, not when he’d laughed at Stiles’ literal worst joke in the history of ever. Anyone who laughed at Stiles’ terrible jokes was a keeper. 

With Derek eating dinner, it meant Stiles had nothing to be distracted with, so he actually did end up watching the rest of season two with Scott. They’d just finished when Scott said he wanted to call it a night, which Stiles was displeased with because how dare Scott leave him right before season three! 

And to make matters worse, Scott was busy the rest of the weekend! The audacity! 

“I’m watching season three without you,” Stiles informed him, not moving from the couch as his friend grabbed his things to head out. “You did this on purpose. How dare you.” 

“As long as you watch it again with me later,” Scott said, completely unrepentant, the jerk. “Dinner Tuesday?” 

“Only if you’re buying, you just hurt my feelings.” 

Scott laughed and shook his head, promised he’d foot the bill, then waved farewell before heading out. 

Stiles was comfortable on the couch, but Scott hadn’t switched out the discs before leaving, so he let out an aggrieved sigh and got up, heading to his PS3 so he could put season three in. He paused while pulling the first disc out, then decided he wanted to watch his favourite episode and went straight for disc four. 

Thomas was being tortured by the enemy in his favourite episode, and Clark swooped in like a knight in shining armour to save him, being completely badass and probably the hottest guy on the planet. Stiles may have found Thomas’ actor more attractive, but by God was Clark fire in that episode. 

This was probably one of the main episodes that had started the Thark ship. Stiles would admit that he would have liked it if the showrunners had done it, but they’d been cowards. And now Thomas was fucking dead. 

“Unbelievable,” Stiles muttered, still salty about it. He tried not to let it ruin his good mood, because in his mind, the movie didn’t exist. It was not a real thing, Thomas was alive and well, and positively thriving. 

Getting the disc in, Stiles wandered back to the couch, falling onto it on his back and turning his head so he could see the screen, waiting for all the usual copyright FBI warning logo bullshit to cycle through. When the menu appeared, he selected the episode he wanted, and got comfortable, watching the screen as it opened up in the middle of the interrogation. 

He was about ten minutes in when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Reaching for it without taking his eyes off the screen, he unlocked it with his thumb, and then brought it closer to his face so he could see both the phone and the TV. 

It was Derek. 

Stiles sat up immediately, twisting to sit properly on the couch, and smiling while texting back. 

[Derek]
I thought I’d be stuck there forever
[Derek]
Sometimes I feel like my parents regret letting my sisters and I move out 
[Derek]
They never want us to leave when we come for dinner 

[Stiles]
that’s kind of cute tbh
[Stiles]
not like ME cute
[Stiles]
but cute :P 

[Derek]
I’m not even deigning that with a response 
[Derek]
You have a good evening? 

[Stiles]
yeah it was ok
[Stiles]
scott left about 30 mins ago
[Stiles]
we finished s2 and the jerk left
[Stiles]
so i retaliated by putting in saviour

[Derek]
That is such a good episode 
[Derek]
Probably my favourite 

[Stiles]
ME TOOOOOOOO
[Stiles]
thomas being tortured hurts so good
[Stiles]
and clark’s reaction is -chef’s kiss- 

[Derek]
Clark is really hot in that episode
[Derek]
Closest we get to seeing him without clothes with that tank

[Stiles]
those MUUUUSCLES
[Stiles]
it still surprises me how jacked that actor is 
[Stiles]
he looks so small

[Derek]
They just dress him in clothes that are just a LITTLE oversized for him
[Derek]
It’s a good illusion 

[Stiles]
it does work v well
[Stiles]
they’re at the waterboarding part 
[Stiles]
yeeeeeeeeeeees hang in there tommy
[Stiles]
clark is coming for you!

[Derek]
After all this they STILL killed him
[Derek]
Unbelievable

[Stiles]
don’t remind me i am in my happy place! 
[Stiles]
clark is about to crash through the skylight! 

[Derek]
You’re making me want to watch the episode

[Stiles]
OMG DO IT!!!!!! 
[Stiles]
i’ll 100% start over and we can watch it at the same time together \o/ 

Stiles waited for Derek’s response, eyes flitting back and forth between his phone and his TV, because this really was his favourite episode and Clark had just dropped in like a badass and man was he definitely into dudes. Why were actors so fucking hot? It wasn’t fair, why would the world force him to stare at hot, attractive men he couldn’t have? 

Then again...

Derek was a hot, attractive man, and he thought Stiles was cute. So maybe he’d be getting a Thomas of his own. Derek kind of looked a little bit like the actor, honestly. He had the same short cropped black hair, striking green eyes, the best and hottest manicured beard ever... 

Stiles was pretty sure Derek was taller, though. He was a bit taller than Stiles himself, who was just shy of 6', so Derek had to be 6' or 6'1". The actor who played Thomas was only 5'10" so Derek was definitely taller. 

He was so engrossed in the episode that he actually forgot he was texting with Derek until his screen lit back up, having gone to sleep. They were well into the comfort part of this hurt/comfort episode, with Thomas wrapped in a blanket, a shivering mess with burns and cuts all over his body, and Clark holding him protectively while the military Jeep they were in took off at top speed. 

Looking down at his phone, he unlocked it quickly, not even having seen Derek’s message, and paused again. 

Derek was good about making Stiles pause. 

[Derek]
Are you busy tomorrow? 

[Stiles]
i am not

It seemed to take Derek an exceptionally long time to respond, but Stiles had his episode, so he was happy, even though he kept glancing down every few minutes to see if Derek had replied yet. He kind of wanted to reach through the phone and shake him for an answer. 

Finally, mercifully, when Thomas was waking up in the hospital to Clark passed out in the chair beside his bed—seriously, how had they not become canon?—Derek finally replied. 

[Derek]
Did you want to come over and watch season 3?
[Derek]
You don’t have to
[Derek]
I just thought we could grab some food

[Stiles]
YESYESTES 

[Derek]
And watch the season
[Derek]
Or at least the good episodes 

[Stiles]
ALL THE EPISODES IN S3 ARE GOOD 
[Stiles]
yes
[Stiles]
absolutely 
[Stiles]
what time?
[Stiles]
and where?
[Stiles]
also what food do i bring? 

[Derek]
How about noon?
[Derek]
That way we can both sleep in
[Derek]
And still have the whole afternoon to watch the show

[Stiles]
absolutely
[Stiles]
where? 

Stiles felt... surprisingly nervous, honestly. 

Not because he thought Derek was a serial killer, unlike Scott, but because it’d been a long time since he’d connected with someone like this. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, because he was a normal human being with critical thinking, but if he did believe it was a thing, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if that was what this was. 

They’d clicked from literally the first second. Stiles had been ranting at Scott, Derek had jumped in to back him up, and then they’d gone for coffee, dinner, and had texted non-stop for a week. He’d never meshed this well with anyone before in his life. 

He kind of loved it. Like, a lot. 

Derek texted him his address, Stiles a little startled to find out he lived a five minute drive from his place, and they finished hashing out their plans for the next day.

The episode had ended by then, the screen replaying the menu over and over again, but Stiles ignored it as they continued texting. When they had everything planned out, Derek told him he was going to bed because social situations were exhausting and he wanted to rest up for the next day. 

Stiles almost offered to postpone, but Derek was the one who’d invited him, so he figured Derek might have drained his battery with a larger group, but having Stiles would be fine. And maybe because Stiles talked so much, it meant Derek didn’t have to and he liked that, who knew? 

Bidding him goodnight, Stiles grinned to himself while staring down at his phone, pretty damn excited for tomorrow. Deciding he shouldn’t stay up too late, worried he might oversleep and miss the day entirely, he turned off his TV without bothering to turn off his PS3 and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

When he crawled under the covers a few minutes later, he opened his messages again to text Scott, knowing he was a little shit but not caring one bit. 

[Stiles]
going to the serial killer’s house tomorrow
[Stiles]
if i die you can have my couch 

Derek’s place was nice. Like, really nice. Derek was the kind of adult who seemed to have his shit together, unlike Stiles, who just pretended to have his shit together. Whatever, he was twenty-seven, he had time to get his shit together! 

Despite having planned this whole thing out, they somehow hadn’t actually talked about snacks, so Stiles ended up just buying a whole bunch of random things from the store on his way over—he’d walked, because he wasn’t that lazy—and hoped for the best. Turned out he was pretty bang on, because a lot of the things he’d grabbed were things Derek liked. 

The only thing they disagreed on was the M&M’s. Derek liked the plain chocolate ones, whereas Stiles, being a sane individual, liked the peanut ones. He’d been worried at first Derek had a thing against peanut butter and chocolate, but thankfully he didn’t have to cut all ties with him when Derek reached for a Reese’s cup once the spread was laid out on his coffee table. 

Derek had all eight season of the show, same as Stiles, and actually admitted that as much as he’d hated the movie, he was still contemplating buying it once it came out because he wanted the full set. 

Stiles could understand, but was vehemently against it, at least for himself. He didn’t ever want to see that trainwreck ever again. Hell, even seeing the poster for it on the side of a bus on his way over had pissed him off. 

The nerve of them! Killing Thomas! Drowning him! 

To death! 

To death! 

He was still so mad. A week had done nothing to calm his anger, if he was honest. 

At least he got a friend out of it, so he tried not to be too mad. Though he still was. Very mad.

Very. 

“Do you want to do the whole season, or do you want to start with Saviour?” Derek asked, standing beside his massive TV and Blu-ray player. 

Stiles had a big TV himself, it was the one and only purchase he’d made that was over the top, but something he’d wanted forever. 

Derek’s TV was bigger. Almost unnecessarily big, if he was honest. It was like he had his own cinema in his living room. Stiles was kind of digging it, meant they could both stare longingly at the two hot men who were about to grace the screen. 

“I’m down to start with Saviour, and then start from the beginning to cycle back around to it.” Stiles grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “I mean, it’s probably weird and fucked up, but I love watching Thomas get tortured.” 

“It’s pretty common, actually,” Derek said, having pulled the disc out and waiting for the Blu-ray to turn on so he could open the disc reader. “Erica does awful things to Thomas and Clark in all her fanfiction. I think the thing people like is the comfort. Seeing all the pain hurts in a good way because you know there’s going to be the comfort at the end of it, so it’s worth it.” 

“Clark holding Thomas after he gets him out makes my chest clench every time,” Stiles admitted. 

“The scene in the Jeep?” Derek confirmed, and when Stiles nodded, he smiled slightly. “I love that scene too. It’s one of the more popular references in fanfiction. People find a way to fit it in somehow, even if it doesn’t suit the theme of the story they’re writing. Erica’s preferred method is usually Thomas getting drunk at a party and getting into a fight, so Clark brings him home in a cab or a car someone else is driving. That way she can incorporate the scene in a way that makes sense.”  

“That’s actually pretty cool,” Stiles admitted, Derek having put the disc in and moving to sit beside him on the couch. “I’ve never read any fanfiction.” 

“It’s not everyone’s thing.” Derek got settled, Stiles resisting the urge to smile mischievously when Derek chose the middle cushion on the couch instead of the other end, putting him right beside Stiles. “But I can guarantee the worst fanfiction I’ve ever read in any fandom ever was still leagues better than the movie we saw last week.” 

“Not a hard contest,” Stiles insisted. 

Derek conceded his point, because it really had been awful, and they both settled in to watch the best episode on television belonging to probably one of the worst shows on television. How contradictory. 

Stiles had an open bag of Doritos in his lap, his legs crossed under himself as he methodically brought chip to mouth, eyes on the screen. The good thing about both of them having seen the show before was that they could talk about it as they watched, Stiles bringing up some of the behind the scenes stuff he was familiar with, and Derek explaining why certain parts of the episode were his favourite. 

It was weird to be so into an episode, but Stiles loved that Derek felt the same way. It was just really well shot, the acting was on point, and the script was surprisingly good in this one. No cheesy lines, no ridiculous and poorly choreographed fight scenes, just pure acting. 

They ended up talking over one of the more political parts of the episode when Stiles randomly wondered aloud if the actors were dating in real life given their insane chemistry, and that had made them both go down a rabbit hole of internet searches trying to figure out whether or not the actors were together. 

Apparently they were not, but had become such good friends during the eight years of shooting that the Thomas actor was the Clark actor’s best man for his wedding. That was actually really nice, Stiles loved seeing relationships like that extend to real life and not just contained within the screen. 

Both of them were back to paying attention by the time the infamous Jeep scene came up, and when the screen faded to black to transition to Thomas waking up in the hospital, Stiles admitted to Derek that he had a Jeep himself. Not a military Jeep, but he had one, and he loved it. 

“Erica can never find that out,” Derek informed him, having gone through most of the veggie straws Stiles had brought. Of course he’d go for the closest thing to a healthy snack Stiles had while Stiles went straight for the Doritos. 

“Why not?” Stiles asked, licking fake cheese dust off his fingers. 

“Because she always teases me about looking a lot like Thomas, and Boyd told her that you look like Clark, so if she ever finds out you have a Jeep, she will force us to recreate the scene to take pictures and probably have us in really awkward poses.” 

Stiles turned to look at the screen, where Thomas was awake in the hospital talking to a doctor in low tones, Clark still passed out in the chair beside him. Derek had said that last night too, that Stiles looked like the actor who played Clark. 

He’d never really considered that he looked a little bit like him, but he supposed he could see it. They had the same hair colour and cut, and they styled it similarly. The actor also had honey-coloured brown eyes, and while he didn’t have moles like Stiles did, he had a dimple in the same cheek when he smiled. 

He got distracted watching the episode again, Derek seeming to as well since they both went silent watching the end. It was probably because it was one of the best parts. Above and beyond the whole torture scene, and the Jeep comfort, this was the real comfort scene of the episode, where Thomas broke down crying and clutched at Clark, who was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed hugging him tightly. 

It was just a really sweet moment between the pair, and Stiles was once again struck by how bitter he was that the show hadn’t just ended where it was. With both of the characters alive and happy. Instead, Thomas had fucking drowned to death, and Clark was God knew where since they hadn’t even bothered to talk about him. 

When the episode ended, Derek stood up to put the first disc in, the two of them starting at the beginning again. 

Stiles was having a good time, and he and Derek talked a lot throughout the episode leading into the second one. They were halfway through it when a new scene started up and Stiles froze with his Coke halfway to his mouth. 

He’d forgotten season three was the raunchy season—not the reason he liked it, he was more interested in the Thomas and Clark relationship—and the main character had a lot of sex with her boyfriend. 

Which was one of the scenes coming on right now. 

Watching a make-out scene with someone else around was fine. Watching a sex scene was kind of weird, but Stiles usually only watched shows and movies with his closest friends, so it didn’t really faze him much. 

But this wasn’t a close friend. This was someone he’d met recently, who was extremely attractive, and had admitted to finding Stiles cute. And now they were sitting beside each other on the couch watching the main character hastily undress her boyfriend, clothes flying off everywhere and the man lifting her off the ground so he could deposit her on the bed, crawling over her. 

Stiles looked down at his can of Coke, not that it helped much since he could hear the kissing and moaning just fine. He hated that this was awkward, but it was so, so awkward. And he could tell Derek felt awkward as well, because he shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. Stiles was willing to bet he wasn’t looking at the screen either. 

He wished he could think of something to say. If they talked through the whole thing, it wouldn’t be so fucking weird. Or maybe it would be because they’d obviously be trying to talk over the awkward.

He didn’t know! This hadn’t ever happened to him before, the last person he’d watched this episode with was Scott, and he and Stiles had literally been commenting on the positioning and their form, because they were weirdos that way. 

Stiles really, really wished he had something to say. 

He felt weird sitting there just holding his Coke up near his face for so long, so he reached over to put it back down on the table. Rubbing both hands along his thighs to rid them of condensation from the can, he glanced over at Derek and saw him staring down at the coffee table. He didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular, he just wasn’t looking at the screen. 

Stiles couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, and that seemed to break Derek out of his staring contest with the Skittles, turning to look over at him, one eyebrow arched in confusion.

“Is it weird that we’re finding this so awkward?” Stiles asked honestly. 

“I think it’s pretty normal, actually.” Derek glanced at the screen when there was a particularly loud moan, and then looked back at Stiles again. “I watched this episode for the first time with my sister.” 

“Yikes,” Stiles said with a small laugh. “I remember going to see a movie with a ton of sex with my dad once. That was a fun night.” 

Derek let out his own laugh, and Stiles really liked it. Derek’s laugh was kind of full body in that it was quiet, but his shoulders shook with it. It was fucking adorable. 

“It’s interesting how people react to scenes like this, especially depending on who they’re with at the time.” 

“Yeah, for sure.” Stiles looked back at the screen, a little relieved to see it had moved past the hanky panky and into the two characters lying wrapped around each other in bed while they spoke. “Scott and I commented on their performance the last time we watched it.” 

“Of course you did,” Derek said with a small laugh. 

“Hey man, if I were her, I’d have been pissed at his form. He was barely rocking his hips, he was just like...” Stiles imitated the actor as best he could, moving his entire lower body back and forth, which was basically what the guy had been doing. No powerful thrusting, no agonizingly slow roll of the hips, nothing at all resembling a good time in bed. 

Derek’s laugh this time was a lot louder, the sound almost startling Stiles because he hadn’t been expecting it. He grinned while Derek continued to laugh, clearly having found Stiles’ imitation spot on, or he wouldn’t have been laughing so much. 

“You have a great laugh.” 

The second he said it, Derek’s laughter began to die down, and Stiles wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Derek turned to look at him, the mirth on his face slowly melting back into something a little calmer, but still somehow... fond. 

For a long while, neither of them said anything. Derek just stared at him, and Stiles stared right back, the episode all but forgotten as it continued to play out on the screen. 

Eventually, after what had to have been five minutes, Derek said, “You have a great mouth.” 

“I am a pretty smooth talker,” Stiles admitted with a cheeky grin. 

“I’m more partial to the lips, but I like the talking too.” 

Stiles was pretty sure his brain short-circuited at those words, and he very distinctly saw Derek’s eyes dip down to his lips and back up. Stiles licked them unconsciously, which had Derek glancing down at them again, gaze lingering this time. 

He hesitated for only a second, and then shifted just that little bit closer on the couch, his thigh pressing up against Stiles’ knee since he was still sitting with his legs crossed under themselves. 

When Derek looked back up into his eyes, Stiles noticed him lick his lips, and then he said, “Is it okay if I—”

“Fuck yes!” 

Stiles reached out one hand before Derek even had a chance to respond to him, dragging his palm across the other man’s stubbled cheek and kissing him hard. Stiles wasn’t really one to beat around the bush, and he wasn’t good with flirting at all, but he supposed that was what made them work. 

Derek was good at making the first move, and Stiles was really good at following through. It definitely worked for them, as evidenced by the way Derek’s hand had risen to bury itself in Stiles’ hair while they both opened their mouths to deepen the kiss. 

It didn’t take them long to forget about the show entirely, Stiles shoving at Derek since he was in the middle seat until he lay down on the couch so he could crawl on top of him. While this wasn’t at all what he was expecting his day to turn out like, he definitely wasn’t mad about it.

Derek was a phenomenal kisser, and his hands were warm, his left one having snuck up under the back of Stiles’ graphic tee and sliding up along his spine. Stiles was pretty sure he tasted like Doritos, and Derek himself kind of tasted like chocolate and peanut butter—probably from having eaten a Reese’s peanut butter cup when Stiles hadn’t been looking—but it was still hot as fuck kissing him. 

Stiles honestly hadn’t realized how into Derek he was until they were making out like teenagers on the fucking couch, but he was really, really, really into Derek. Like, so much. He was funny, and smart, and kind of a goofball even though he was all serious business in the facial expressions department. Stiles kind of loved him. 

Love at first sight wasn’t a real thing, but if it was, then this was probably what it would feel like. 

They’d missed a little under a full episode by the time they calmed down enough to stop trying to steal each other’s oxygen. It was a near thing, but they managed. 

Stiles’ shirt had disappeared at some point during the whole thing, and Derek’s jeans were unbuttoned and halfway down his thighs. Stiles didn’t remember either of those things happening, but he’d been a little distracted by the hands and the teeth and the lips and the—Derek. Just the whole Derek package. He was very distracting. 

Resting his head on Derek’s chest and feeling the other man’s hands on his back, one of them sliding smoothly up and down his spine while the other stayed pressed against the base, Stiles couldn’t help but laugh a little bit. 

“What?” Derek asked, Stiles able to hear the smile in his voice. 

“Just thinking.” 

“About?” 

“What you said earlier. About your friend Erica.”

Derek’s hand stilled on his back, and then he let out a groan. “She’s going to take one look at you and force us to recreate all her fanfictions.” 

“Good thing you said they were good,” Stiles teased, listening to Derek’s heartbeat. It was surprisingly calming, he felt like he might fall asleep, honestly. 

“They are good, but I don’t really feel like cosplaying Thomas and Clark for her perverse pleasure. Especially since she almost always makes Thomas go through some shit.”

“But you would have your very own Clark to help patch you back together.” Stiles tilted his head up so he could waggle his eyebrows. Given he could mostly only see Derek’s chin, he didn’t think the other man noticed. 

“I don’t do cosplay.” 

“What, ever? What about Halloween?” 

“I feel like you’re trying to get me to agree to something, and it won’t work.” 

“You underestimate me,” Stiles argued. “It’ll work.”

“No, it won’t. I don’t do cosplay.” 

“But you will.”

“Nope.” 

“We’ll see.” 

“No we won’t.” 

One year and two months later, Stiles was walking through the main hall of a convention center dressed as the most badass Clark Treadway anyone had ever seen. And he got to make a whole bunch of little fangirl hearts happy, because he spent most of the convention dragging along a Thomas Kent by their clasped hands, Derek not looking impressed at all. 

But his boyfriend secretly loved every second of it. 

Even if the jerk never admitted it, Stiles knew. 

He knew. 

END.