you turned around and stole my heart - derek/stiles (background scott/allison) - pg-13
Title: you turned around and stole my heart
Pairing(s): Derek/Stiles, (side Scott/Allison)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,475
Warning(s): Unbeta'ed.
Summary: College baseball AU. What even is Stiles' life.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, using them for my own enjoyment. Not sorry.
A/N: Dedicated to Katie because she was so freaking supportive and excited when I brought this idea up to her. :) Love you!
“Scott, c’mon, we’re gonna be late!” Stiles yells as he passes the open door to Scott’s room. “Jesus Christ, are you fixing your hair?! We’re about to play a game, no one cares what your hair looks like!”
Scott turns to look at Stiles guiltily and Stiles groans.
“Oh my- Allison? You know Coach would kill you! She’s the enemy!”
“It’s not like she’s on their team Stiles.” Scott grabs his bag and pushes past Stiles, pulling his door shut behind him.
“Whatever, same difference. She’s the coach’s daughter. Not only will Coach kill you if you’re distracted, Derek will tear your limbs off. And then probably eat them.” Stiles glares at Scott, “I don’t need that!”
“Let’s just go Stiles.”
“Fine. But I’m not explaining your dismembered corpse to your mother.”
*
“Alright guys, this game, like every other game, matters. We’re just as good as them and we can beat them. I believe in you guys.”
Stiles rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his hair before putting his hat back on. Derek is lucky he’s a better team captain when he’s barking orders than when he tries to give inspirational speeches. He vaguely hears the rest of the team howling (and really, what a cliché war cry) and traipsing out of the locker room to the dugout. Stiles waits until he can’t hear anyone anymore to pull a pair of dog tags from beneath his uniform. He smoothes his thumb over the engraved surface.
K. Stilinski
“Stiles!”
“Oh my god.” Stiles jumps and shoves the dog tags back under his uniform. “What, Derek?”
“Get on the field.”
Stiles ducks past Derek to make his way out of the locker room, hoping Derek hadn’t seen him moping over his mom’s old Army tags.
*
This is his time. He can feel it. Nothing’s going to stop him. He waves to his dad in the stands and glances back at the dugout. His team is milling about but the only people who are focused on solely on Stiles are Coach Finstock, Scott, and, surprisingly, Derek.
But that didn’t mean anything. Derek was the team captain. He had to watch everyone.
Stiles couldn’t let his ridiculous crush on Derek impede his ability to play. Derek literally hated him, too, so he wasn’t going to get worked up over nothing.
Stiles squared his shoulders and feet and stared down the pitcher. He skipped back a step as the first pitch whizzed close to his chest.
He isn’t so lucky, however, when the second pitch hits him right in the jaw.
He immediately hits the dirt and clutches his face. Over the pain screaming in his face, Stiles can hear his teammates running out onto the field, and then sees three of Scott swimming before his eyes.
Derek yelling his name is the last thing he hears before he passes out.
*
“It was completely intentional.”
“You don’t know that. How would you even prove that?”
“How do you accidently hit someone in the jaw?”
Stiles moans and blinks blearily. Why Scott and, what sounds like Derek, are arguing when they should be paying attention to Stiles in pain is beyond him.
“Is he waking up?”
“Don’t crowd him!”
When Stiles’ vision clears he can see Scott, Mrs. McCall, and his father around the hospital bed he’s in.
Stiles opens his mouth to say something about the fact that he doesn’t seem to be wearing pants and how fucking embarrassing because, yes, he can clearly see Derek skulking in the corner and this does not need to be his life right now.
Stiles barely moves his lips before his face erupts in pain again.
“Ffffffffffffffffffff-“ Is all he manages, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the pain.
“The pain medication must’ve worn off.” Stiles can hear Mrs. McCall speaking and moving towards his bed, fiddling with the bags hanging next to it. She injects something into one of them and Stiles sighs in relief. With this amount of pain he should be getting the good stuff.
Stiles opens his eyes and immediately finds Scott, raising his eyebrows expectantly. He’s not going to try talking again anytime soon.
“You got hit by a pitch.” Stiles rolls his eyes and gestures for him to continue. “He cracked your jaw, and you passed out, my mom assumes from the shock of the pain.”
Stiles thinks back to who was pitching, that Matt kid, and narrows his eyes at Scott. Just the other day he was telling Scott that kid was evil. But does anyone believe Stiles? Of course not.
I’ll kill him. He tells Scott with his eyes.
“Not if I do it first.” Scott replies, and Stiles really wished he could smile, because he loves Scott so much.
“Do what?” Stiles moves his gaze to rest on his father, who is sitting in the chair next to his bed, face creased in a frown.
“Um, nothing sir.” Scott mumbles, shooting Stiles a guilty look.
“Alright, everybody out.” Scott’s mother starts ushering everyone out of the room, “Yes, even you Sheriff. He needs his rest.”
His father stands and rests his hand on Stiles’ head, smiling at him softly.
“See ya later kid.” He turns and follows everyone else out of the room, leaving Stiles to slip into a drug induced sleep.
*
Stiles groans and pulls his half asleep body from his warm, cozy bed, stumbling over to the door.
He stares blankly at the person standing in his doorway, because he must be dreaming.
Because Derek Hale is standing in his doorway holding Stiles’ favorite flavor of ice cream in one hand and Star Trek in the other.
Stiles continues to stare at Derek in disbelief, numbly moving to the side when Derek takes a step forward.
He’s glad Danny is out at the field getting in some extra practice with Jackson, because he doesn’t think he could take the teasing looks. Basically everyone except Derek knows about Stiles’ huge massive crush on him.
Stiles closes his door and turns to Derek.
“I just thought you’d want some company.” Derek says, setting the ice cream down on Stiles’ desk and awkwardly wrapping both hands around the movie. Stiles grunts in agreement (actually talking still hurts too much) narrows his eyes and lowers himself onto his bed. He’s not sure what type of game Derek is playing, but he brought Star Trek and Moose Tracks, so Stiles guesses he can stay for a bit. Derek sets up the movie and sits on the bed next to Stiles, scooting up so they’re both leaning on the wall.
This is not going to end well for me. Stiles thinks as he sneaks a glance at Derek’s profile and the way he fills out the baseball tee he’s wearing.
Not at all.
*
Stiles blinks awake sometime later, berating himself for falling asleep, because oh god what if he drooled on himself in front of Derek.
Someone’s shut off the television, and Stiles can see Danny asleep in the other bed, so great, now Stiles has to deal with that in the morning.
Drooling should be the least of his worries, though, because he is currently being cuddled by Derek and what even is his life.
Stiles’ face is pressed into Derek’s chest (warm, so warm and snuggly) and Stiles can feel Derek’s hand curved around his hip, fingers touching bare skin where his t-shirt has ridden up. Stiles can see his own hand clenched around the fabric of Derek’s shirt over his abs, and he stares at it in betrayal.
He removes his hand to a safer place (anywhere not near Derek’s dick would be good) and shifts a little. He freezes when Derek mumbles something and tightens his hold on Stiles.
Well that’s not happening.
Stiles lifts his head, thankful that the side of his face that was squished into Derek’s chest was the uninjured one, and peers at the clock.
2:39
Oh hell no. Stiles is going back to sleep. He can have a big freakout when it’s a normal time for people to be up.
*
When Stiles wakes up the next morning, he’s alone, and Danny is smirking at him from across the room.
*
“He did what?” Scott really shouldn’t ever be freaked out because his voice gets all high and girly and it’s embarrassing really.
“Scott, calm down,” Stiles is really glad he talk again without hurting, as long as he doses up on what is probably an unhealthy amount of painkillers, but it’s never hurt him before, “He just brought a movie and ice cream and we fell asleep on my bed.”
“And then he just left. I’m gonna kill him,” Scott growls, “How does he not know that you like him Stiles? He’s just being a dick about it.”
Stiles rolls his eyes, “He really doesn’t know Scott, and I’d like to keep it that way. He wouldn’t feel the same way and I’m better off not actually knowing that, okay?”
Scott sighs but drops it.
“Thank you. Now, how’s it going with Allison?” Stiles has to admit, Allison is actually pretty cool, even though she is the enemy.
“Good. Like, really good-“
“Nuh-uh. Nope. Too much information,” Stiles gathers his trash and starts to stand up, “You know the rules buddy. Blech.” As he turns to leave, he bumps in Boyd.
“Oh, sorry man! Didn’t see you there!” Boyd exclaims, putting out a hand to steady Stiles, but accidently knocking him in the face.
“Fuck!” The pain meds were not strong enough to dull direct hits to his injury.
“Oh shit, I am so sorry!” Stiles just waves him off and reaches for Scott’s water bottle, moaning in relief as he presses the cool surface to his jaw.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going, Boyd.” Someone hisses from behind Stiles.
“Right Captain, I’ll just be going then,” Boyd looks like he’s literally about to pee himself and turns to get the hell out of there, throwing one last, “Sorry Stiles!” over his shoulder.
Stiles lowers the water bottle and stares at Derek, who is glaring after Boyd like he wants to murder him.
“What the hell is going on with you lately?” Stiles asks incredulously. “You know what? I don’t have time for this, I have Bio.” He turns to leave, and makes it to outside the dining hall before he hears someone calling his name.
He turns to see that Derek has followed him out.
“Oh my god, what?” Stiles huffs, extremely annoyed now.
“What the hell is your problem?” Derek snaps, “I just wanted to make sure you were alright after that idiot ran into you.”
“What’s my problem? What’s your problem?” Stiles is getting pissed now, and when Stiles gets pissed, he gets pissed. Bottling in your actual feelings will do that to a person. “You know what, fuck you Derek. You’ve spent all year treating me like utter crap and for some godforsaken reason I actually still like you. But now all of a sudden you’re being caring and protective and it’s confusing and awful and I don’t need this right now!”
Stiles turns and walks away from Derek, ignoring the “Stiles!” that gets shouted after him, and really wishing he had more pain meds.
*
Later that day finds Stiles sitting on his bed, ignoring his phone, and staring blankly at the television.
What the fuck did I do.
Stiles laments what his life even is, yet again, and flops back on his pillows. Only, fuck that, because they all smell like Derek.
“My liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiife!” Stiles wails and rolls of his bed, landing on all fours before lowering himself to the ground. Lying on the floor is nice.
Stiles doesn’t move when he hears the door open, only turns his head slightly so he can speak.
“Danny, just leave me alone to die. I’ve messed everything up.”
“Not Danny, and no, you haven’t.” Stiles freezes at the sound of Derek’s voice.
Abort, abort, abort.
Stiles quickly scoots himself to the right, not stopping until he’s securely under the bed. He closes his eyes and hopes, prays, that Derek will just leave him to die alone in his misery.
“Stiles-“
“Go away.”
“Stiles.” Derek sighs, “Stiles, come out from under the bed.”
Stiles glares at the dust bunny that’s tickling his nose. No he does not feel ridiculous about being nineteen years old and hiding from confrontation underneath a bed.
“Please?”
“Holy shit!” Stiles jerks his head up and smack it on the bottom of his bed, before wriggling quickly out and ending up on his back at Derek’s feet.
“Did you just say please?” Stiles laughs gleefully, “Oh my god I’m telling Scott, shit, I’m telling everyone! I cannot believe-“
“Stiles.” Stiles stops searching for his phone in his bedcovers and sighs. Maybe he can suffocate himself in them. He stands up and shoves his hands in his pockets, wishing for the world that he was anywhere but here.
“Look at me.” And Stiles is really getting tired of being ordered around by Derek, but even more tired of the fact that he still wants to do whatever Derek asks. Stiles meets his gaze, and bites his lip to stop from talking, because he feels like Derek would not appreciate it.
“I’m only going to say this once, so don’t interrupt me.” Derek says, and Stiles nods. “You infuriate me.”
Stiles opens his mouth to protest, because hey, that is uncalled for, but Derek just shakes his head.
“But I can’t stop thinking about you.” He whispers softly, and Stiles’ jaw drops.
“And when that asshole hurt you, it just made me realize how stupid I was being, trying not to get involved with someone on the team, because I was already involved. I’ve been involved since you tried out and you were fantastic, yet still didn’t see how great you were. And then you made that awful joke-”
“Hey! Who’s on first is a classic-“
“And I was so gone.”
Derek takes a step closer to Stiles and brings a hand up to his face, carefully stroking over the (quite awesome looking, if Stiles’ has anything to say about it. Which he does, because it’s his face) bruise on his jaw.
“I’m going to kiss you now.” Derek states, and doesn’t wait for Stiles’ response before leaning in and it’s a good thing Derek was holding onto his hip with his other hand, because yup, those are his knees giving out. Derek chuckles softly pulls back, brushing his thumb over the blush on Stiles’ cheek.
“Um, Scott’s going to try and kill you, y’know.” Stiles feels it’s fair to warn him.
“He can bring it. I know all about him and Allison.” Derek grins, and damn, Stiles is lucky.
What even is his life.
Pairing(s): Derek/Stiles, (side Scott/Allison)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,475
Warning(s): Unbeta'ed.
Summary: College baseball AU. What even is Stiles' life.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, using them for my own enjoyment. Not sorry.
A/N: Dedicated to Katie because she was so freaking supportive and excited when I brought this idea up to her. :) Love you!
“Scott, c’mon, we’re gonna be late!” Stiles yells as he passes the open door to Scott’s room. “Jesus Christ, are you fixing your hair?! We’re about to play a game, no one cares what your hair looks like!”
Scott turns to look at Stiles guiltily and Stiles groans.
“Oh my- Allison? You know Coach would kill you! She’s the enemy!”
“It’s not like she’s on their team Stiles.” Scott grabs his bag and pushes past Stiles, pulling his door shut behind him.
“Whatever, same difference. She’s the coach’s daughter. Not only will Coach kill you if you’re distracted, Derek will tear your limbs off. And then probably eat them.” Stiles glares at Scott, “I don’t need that!”
“Let’s just go Stiles.”
“Fine. But I’m not explaining your dismembered corpse to your mother.”
*
“Alright guys, this game, like every other game, matters. We’re just as good as them and we can beat them. I believe in you guys.”
Stiles rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his hair before putting his hat back on. Derek is lucky he’s a better team captain when he’s barking orders than when he tries to give inspirational speeches. He vaguely hears the rest of the team howling (and really, what a cliché war cry) and traipsing out of the locker room to the dugout. Stiles waits until he can’t hear anyone anymore to pull a pair of dog tags from beneath his uniform. He smoothes his thumb over the engraved surface.
K. Stilinski
“Stiles!”
“Oh my god.” Stiles jumps and shoves the dog tags back under his uniform. “What, Derek?”
“Get on the field.”
Stiles ducks past Derek to make his way out of the locker room, hoping Derek hadn’t seen him moping over his mom’s old Army tags.
*
This is his time. He can feel it. Nothing’s going to stop him. He waves to his dad in the stands and glances back at the dugout. His team is milling about but the only people who are focused on solely on Stiles are Coach Finstock, Scott, and, surprisingly, Derek.
But that didn’t mean anything. Derek was the team captain. He had to watch everyone.
Stiles couldn’t let his ridiculous crush on Derek impede his ability to play. Derek literally hated him, too, so he wasn’t going to get worked up over nothing.
Stiles squared his shoulders and feet and stared down the pitcher. He skipped back a step as the first pitch whizzed close to his chest.
He isn’t so lucky, however, when the second pitch hits him right in the jaw.
He immediately hits the dirt and clutches his face. Over the pain screaming in his face, Stiles can hear his teammates running out onto the field, and then sees three of Scott swimming before his eyes.
Derek yelling his name is the last thing he hears before he passes out.
*
“It was completely intentional.”
“You don’t know that. How would you even prove that?”
“How do you accidently hit someone in the jaw?”
Stiles moans and blinks blearily. Why Scott and, what sounds like Derek, are arguing when they should be paying attention to Stiles in pain is beyond him.
“Is he waking up?”
“Don’t crowd him!”
When Stiles’ vision clears he can see Scott, Mrs. McCall, and his father around the hospital bed he’s in.
Stiles opens his mouth to say something about the fact that he doesn’t seem to be wearing pants and how fucking embarrassing because, yes, he can clearly see Derek skulking in the corner and this does not need to be his life right now.
Stiles barely moves his lips before his face erupts in pain again.
“Ffffffffffffffffffff-“ Is all he manages, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the pain.
“The pain medication must’ve worn off.” Stiles can hear Mrs. McCall speaking and moving towards his bed, fiddling with the bags hanging next to it. She injects something into one of them and Stiles sighs in relief. With this amount of pain he should be getting the good stuff.
Stiles opens his eyes and immediately finds Scott, raising his eyebrows expectantly. He’s not going to try talking again anytime soon.
“You got hit by a pitch.” Stiles rolls his eyes and gestures for him to continue. “He cracked your jaw, and you passed out, my mom assumes from the shock of the pain.”
Stiles thinks back to who was pitching, that Matt kid, and narrows his eyes at Scott. Just the other day he was telling Scott that kid was evil. But does anyone believe Stiles? Of course not.
I’ll kill him. He tells Scott with his eyes.
“Not if I do it first.” Scott replies, and Stiles really wished he could smile, because he loves Scott so much.
“Do what?” Stiles moves his gaze to rest on his father, who is sitting in the chair next to his bed, face creased in a frown.
“Um, nothing sir.” Scott mumbles, shooting Stiles a guilty look.
“Alright, everybody out.” Scott’s mother starts ushering everyone out of the room, “Yes, even you Sheriff. He needs his rest.”
His father stands and rests his hand on Stiles’ head, smiling at him softly.
“See ya later kid.” He turns and follows everyone else out of the room, leaving Stiles to slip into a drug induced sleep.
*
Stiles groans and pulls his half asleep body from his warm, cozy bed, stumbling over to the door.
He stares blankly at the person standing in his doorway, because he must be dreaming.
Because Derek Hale is standing in his doorway holding Stiles’ favorite flavor of ice cream in one hand and Star Trek in the other.
Stiles continues to stare at Derek in disbelief, numbly moving to the side when Derek takes a step forward.
He’s glad Danny is out at the field getting in some extra practice with Jackson, because he doesn’t think he could take the teasing looks. Basically everyone except Derek knows about Stiles’ huge massive crush on him.
Stiles closes his door and turns to Derek.
“I just thought you’d want some company.” Derek says, setting the ice cream down on Stiles’ desk and awkwardly wrapping both hands around the movie. Stiles grunts in agreement (actually talking still hurts too much) narrows his eyes and lowers himself onto his bed. He’s not sure what type of game Derek is playing, but he brought Star Trek and Moose Tracks, so Stiles guesses he can stay for a bit. Derek sets up the movie and sits on the bed next to Stiles, scooting up so they’re both leaning on the wall.
This is not going to end well for me. Stiles thinks as he sneaks a glance at Derek’s profile and the way he fills out the baseball tee he’s wearing.
Not at all.
*
Stiles blinks awake sometime later, berating himself for falling asleep, because oh god what if he drooled on himself in front of Derek.
Someone’s shut off the television, and Stiles can see Danny asleep in the other bed, so great, now Stiles has to deal with that in the morning.
Drooling should be the least of his worries, though, because he is currently being cuddled by Derek and what even is his life.
Stiles’ face is pressed into Derek’s chest (warm, so warm and snuggly) and Stiles can feel Derek’s hand curved around his hip, fingers touching bare skin where his t-shirt has ridden up. Stiles can see his own hand clenched around the fabric of Derek’s shirt over his abs, and he stares at it in betrayal.
He removes his hand to a safer place (anywhere not near Derek’s dick would be good) and shifts a little. He freezes when Derek mumbles something and tightens his hold on Stiles.
Well that’s not happening.
Stiles lifts his head, thankful that the side of his face that was squished into Derek’s chest was the uninjured one, and peers at the clock.
2:39
Oh hell no. Stiles is going back to sleep. He can have a big freakout when it’s a normal time for people to be up.
*
When Stiles wakes up the next morning, he’s alone, and Danny is smirking at him from across the room.
*
“He did what?” Scott really shouldn’t ever be freaked out because his voice gets all high and girly and it’s embarrassing really.
“Scott, calm down,” Stiles is really glad he talk again without hurting, as long as he doses up on what is probably an unhealthy amount of painkillers, but it’s never hurt him before, “He just brought a movie and ice cream and we fell asleep on my bed.”
“And then he just left. I’m gonna kill him,” Scott growls, “How does he not know that you like him Stiles? He’s just being a dick about it.”
Stiles rolls his eyes, “He really doesn’t know Scott, and I’d like to keep it that way. He wouldn’t feel the same way and I’m better off not actually knowing that, okay?”
Scott sighs but drops it.
“Thank you. Now, how’s it going with Allison?” Stiles has to admit, Allison is actually pretty cool, even though she is the enemy.
“Good. Like, really good-“
“Nuh-uh. Nope. Too much information,” Stiles gathers his trash and starts to stand up, “You know the rules buddy. Blech.” As he turns to leave, he bumps in Boyd.
“Oh, sorry man! Didn’t see you there!” Boyd exclaims, putting out a hand to steady Stiles, but accidently knocking him in the face.
“Fuck!” The pain meds were not strong enough to dull direct hits to his injury.
“Oh shit, I am so sorry!” Stiles just waves him off and reaches for Scott’s water bottle, moaning in relief as he presses the cool surface to his jaw.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going, Boyd.” Someone hisses from behind Stiles.
“Right Captain, I’ll just be going then,” Boyd looks like he’s literally about to pee himself and turns to get the hell out of there, throwing one last, “Sorry Stiles!” over his shoulder.
Stiles lowers the water bottle and stares at Derek, who is glaring after Boyd like he wants to murder him.
“What the hell is going on with you lately?” Stiles asks incredulously. “You know what? I don’t have time for this, I have Bio.” He turns to leave, and makes it to outside the dining hall before he hears someone calling his name.
He turns to see that Derek has followed him out.
“Oh my god, what?” Stiles huffs, extremely annoyed now.
“What the hell is your problem?” Derek snaps, “I just wanted to make sure you were alright after that idiot ran into you.”
“What’s my problem? What’s your problem?” Stiles is getting pissed now, and when Stiles gets pissed, he gets pissed. Bottling in your actual feelings will do that to a person. “You know what, fuck you Derek. You’ve spent all year treating me like utter crap and for some godforsaken reason I actually still like you. But now all of a sudden you’re being caring and protective and it’s confusing and awful and I don’t need this right now!”
Stiles turns and walks away from Derek, ignoring the “Stiles!” that gets shouted after him, and really wishing he had more pain meds.
*
Later that day finds Stiles sitting on his bed, ignoring his phone, and staring blankly at the television.
What the fuck did I do.
Stiles laments what his life even is, yet again, and flops back on his pillows. Only, fuck that, because they all smell like Derek.
“My liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiife!” Stiles wails and rolls of his bed, landing on all fours before lowering himself to the ground. Lying on the floor is nice.
Stiles doesn’t move when he hears the door open, only turns his head slightly so he can speak.
“Danny, just leave me alone to die. I’ve messed everything up.”
“Not Danny, and no, you haven’t.” Stiles freezes at the sound of Derek’s voice.
Abort, abort, abort.
Stiles quickly scoots himself to the right, not stopping until he’s securely under the bed. He closes his eyes and hopes, prays, that Derek will just leave him to die alone in his misery.
“Stiles-“
“Go away.”
“Stiles.” Derek sighs, “Stiles, come out from under the bed.”
Stiles glares at the dust bunny that’s tickling his nose. No he does not feel ridiculous about being nineteen years old and hiding from confrontation underneath a bed.
“Please?”
“Holy shit!” Stiles jerks his head up and smack it on the bottom of his bed, before wriggling quickly out and ending up on his back at Derek’s feet.
“Did you just say please?” Stiles laughs gleefully, “Oh my god I’m telling Scott, shit, I’m telling everyone! I cannot believe-“
“Stiles.” Stiles stops searching for his phone in his bedcovers and sighs. Maybe he can suffocate himself in them. He stands up and shoves his hands in his pockets, wishing for the world that he was anywhere but here.
“Look at me.” And Stiles is really getting tired of being ordered around by Derek, but even more tired of the fact that he still wants to do whatever Derek asks. Stiles meets his gaze, and bites his lip to stop from talking, because he feels like Derek would not appreciate it.
“I’m only going to say this once, so don’t interrupt me.” Derek says, and Stiles nods. “You infuriate me.”
Stiles opens his mouth to protest, because hey, that is uncalled for, but Derek just shakes his head.
“But I can’t stop thinking about you.” He whispers softly, and Stiles’ jaw drops.
“And when that asshole hurt you, it just made me realize how stupid I was being, trying not to get involved with someone on the team, because I was already involved. I’ve been involved since you tried out and you were fantastic, yet still didn’t see how great you were. And then you made that awful joke-”
“Hey! Who’s on first is a classic-“
“And I was so gone.”
Derek takes a step closer to Stiles and brings a hand up to his face, carefully stroking over the (quite awesome looking, if Stiles’ has anything to say about it. Which he does, because it’s his face) bruise on his jaw.
“I’m going to kiss you now.” Derek states, and doesn’t wait for Stiles’ response before leaning in and it’s a good thing Derek was holding onto his hip with his other hand, because yup, those are his knees giving out. Derek chuckles softly pulls back, brushing his thumb over the blush on Stiles’ cheek.
“Um, Scott’s going to try and kill you, y’know.” Stiles feels it’s fair to warn him.
“He can bring it. I know all about him and Allison.” Derek grins, and damn, Stiles is lucky.
What even is his life.