Fic: Derek and the Unnecessary Pining (2/14)
Title: Derek and the Unnecessary Pining
Series: Bizarre Love Polyhedron
Rating: PG-13
Genres: Humor, Angst
Setting: Post Season 3A
Pairings: Stiles/Derek, background Scott/Stiles, Scott/Isaac/Allison, Lydia/Aiden, Danny/Ethan, implied Scott&Stiles&Derek
Wordcount: 1030 (this chapter); ~18k total
Beta: percygranger
Stiles is unfairly attractive, Scott is terrifyingly earnest, and Cora is a brat. Derek just wants them to leave him alone so he can finish reading his book. Is that so much to ask?
Chapter 1: Back to Bacon Hills
Chapter 2: Pity Party
Peter was smirking as he opened the door to Scott’s house. “I know you hate parties,” he said, “but try not to look like someone just died.” He patted Derek’s cheek, pursing his lips in mock concern. “Lighten up, emo kid.”
Derek snarled and shouldered his way past Peter through the open doorway.
Having lost his first choice of victim, Peter turned to Cora. “And how is my favorite niece?”
“I’m your only niece,” Cora said from behind Derek.
“My only living niece.”
“Gee, Uncle Peter, I’m so glad you like me better than my dead siblings.”
Derek tuned out Cora and Peter’s bickering as he blinked at the scene before him. There were over a hundred black balloons strewn about the place, covering every conceivable surface. There were even a few lodged above the ceiling fan and behind the television. Black streamers fluttered down from arbitrary points on the ceiling and various light fixtures. The doorway between the living room and the kitchen was lined with them.
“Wow,” Cora said, coming up to stand next to Derek. She tucked her hair back behind her ears and smoothed out the wrinkles in her jacket. “This is impressive.”
Peter smirked. “I want balloons at my next funeral.”
“Seriously,” Cora said, “did a terminally ill five year old choose the decorations?”
Scott’s voice drifted out of the kitchen. “The balloons look nice, Stiles. Why did you choose the color black, again?”
“Oh, you know,” Stiles said, his heart rate picking up. “To match Derek’s soul.”
“Oh God,” Derek said, and hightailed it for the nearest doorway that was not lined in streamers.
He could hear Cora cackling behind him as he fled.
***
Derek could identify Peter’s heartbeat before he finished walking up to the door of Scott’s bedroom.
Derek sighed, pushed himself out of Scott’s stuffed armchair, and opened the door. “What?”
Peter tilted his head. “You can’t hide all night, you know.” He raised an eyebrow, considering his words. “Well, you could, but it would be rude.”
Derek grit his teeth, debating the merits of slamming the door in Peter’s face.
“Then again, you’ve never cared about being rude, have you?”
“Is there a point to this?”
A sly smile inched its way onto Peter’s face. “Did you notice anything about Scott before you turned tail?”
Derek turned and walked back to the armchair. He could sense Peter following him just a few feet behind, though his footsteps were nigh undetectable, like always. “Should I have?”
“Hmm. I suppose, if you had any investment in your new alpha’s love life.”
“I don’t care about Scott’s love life,” Derek said, collapsing back into the armchair.
“Don’t you?”
Peter was looking far too smug for Derek’s liking. “Either get to the point, or leave.”
“You didn’t notice anything about Stiles, either, did you?”
Derek felt his shoulder muscles tense at the mention of Stiles’ name. He fought the urge to leap up and press his claws against Peter’s throat. It wasn’t like this was the first time Peter had deliberately gotten under his skin. “Why would I have noticed anything about Stiles?” he asked, trying to sound disinterested.
It must not have worked, because Peter’s smirk was nearly splitting his face now. “For the same reason you might have noticed something about Scott.”
“I hate it when you’re being needlessly cryptic.”
“Oh, it’s never needless.” Peter relaxed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning backwards a bit. “So you still maintain that you have no interest in Scott’s love life?”
“It’s none of my business,” Derek retorted, probably more sharply than he should have. “And none of yours, either.”
“Ugh, you sound like your mother.”
Derek bared his teeth.
“I’m just saying,” Peter drawled, “you can’t stay in here all night. Maybe you should go pay your… respects.” He said the word respects with a grimace, as though even forming the syllables put a bad taste in his mouth.
“If I do, will you go away?”
“No promises.”
Derek got up and shoved his way past Peter to the stairwell. Maybe if he ignored him for long enough, Peter would get bored and go away. Sadly, he followed Derek downstairs. Derek could feel the smirk burning into the back of his skull.
Isaac was looking in his direction when he finished untangling himself from the streamers spanning the entrance to the living room. Isaac and Allison were sitting together on the love seat in front of the television, thighs pressed together, and he nodded at Derek once before settling his hand on Allison’s knee. She turned and startled when she saw Derek standing there.
Derek stuffed his hands in his pockets and attempted a smile.
“Derek!” said Allison, her voice overly bright. “How have you been?”
“Fine,” he said. “Is there any soda?”
“In the fridge. There should be cold ones in the front, warmer near the back.”
“Thanks.” He went into the kitchen as quickly as he could to get away from Allison’s misplaced enthusiasm.
Peter called out, “Give my regards to Scott,” as Derek slipped through the row of streamers.
Scott, Cora, and Stiles were in the kitchen, clustered between the fridge and the table. Stiles’ back was turned to Derek. He had a tumbler of whisky in one hand and a skewer of chicken in the other, but that didn’t stop him from gesticulating wildly when he spoke, the amber liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. He was mumbling something about turtles and radioactive materials, his voice slightly slurred from the alcohol, as Scott beamed back at him and Cora looked like she was trying not to laugh.
Derek didn’t want to interrupt. It would have been rude to make them move, just so he could grab something from the refrigerator. He was entirely justified in stopping in his tracks, turning, and fleeing the kitchen silently.
When he came back through the streamer doorway, Peter took one look at him and started laughing.
“Shut up,” Derek said, and went back upstairs.
***
It was Cora who found him five minutes later, a bottle of cream soda extended in offering. “Just talk to him,” she said, before turning to go back downstairs. “Idiot.”
Chapter 3: Awkward
Series: Bizarre Love Polyhedron
Rating: PG-13
Genres: Humor, Angst
Setting: Post Season 3A
Pairings: Stiles/Derek, background Scott/Stiles, Scott/Isaac/Allison, Lydia/Aiden, Danny/Ethan, implied Scott&Stiles&Derek
Wordcount: 1030 (this chapter); ~18k total
Beta: percygranger
Stiles is unfairly attractive, Scott is terrifyingly earnest, and Cora is a brat. Derek just wants them to leave him alone so he can finish reading his book. Is that so much to ask?
Chapter 1: Back to Bacon Hills
Chapter 2: Pity Party
Peter was smirking as he opened the door to Scott’s house. “I know you hate parties,” he said, “but try not to look like someone just died.” He patted Derek’s cheek, pursing his lips in mock concern. “Lighten up, emo kid.”
Derek snarled and shouldered his way past Peter through the open doorway.
Having lost his first choice of victim, Peter turned to Cora. “And how is my favorite niece?”
“I’m your only niece,” Cora said from behind Derek.
“My only living niece.”
“Gee, Uncle Peter, I’m so glad you like me better than my dead siblings.”
Derek tuned out Cora and Peter’s bickering as he blinked at the scene before him. There were over a hundred black balloons strewn about the place, covering every conceivable surface. There were even a few lodged above the ceiling fan and behind the television. Black streamers fluttered down from arbitrary points on the ceiling and various light fixtures. The doorway between the living room and the kitchen was lined with them.
“Wow,” Cora said, coming up to stand next to Derek. She tucked her hair back behind her ears and smoothed out the wrinkles in her jacket. “This is impressive.”
Peter smirked. “I want balloons at my next funeral.”
“Seriously,” Cora said, “did a terminally ill five year old choose the decorations?”
Scott’s voice drifted out of the kitchen. “The balloons look nice, Stiles. Why did you choose the color black, again?”
“Oh, you know,” Stiles said, his heart rate picking up. “To match Derek’s soul.”
“Oh God,” Derek said, and hightailed it for the nearest doorway that was not lined in streamers.
He could hear Cora cackling behind him as he fled.
***
Derek could identify Peter’s heartbeat before he finished walking up to the door of Scott’s bedroom.
Derek sighed, pushed himself out of Scott’s stuffed armchair, and opened the door. “What?”
Peter tilted his head. “You can’t hide all night, you know.” He raised an eyebrow, considering his words. “Well, you could, but it would be rude.”
Derek grit his teeth, debating the merits of slamming the door in Peter’s face.
“Then again, you’ve never cared about being rude, have you?”
“Is there a point to this?”
A sly smile inched its way onto Peter’s face. “Did you notice anything about Scott before you turned tail?”
Derek turned and walked back to the armchair. He could sense Peter following him just a few feet behind, though his footsteps were nigh undetectable, like always. “Should I have?”
“Hmm. I suppose, if you had any investment in your new alpha’s love life.”
“I don’t care about Scott’s love life,” Derek said, collapsing back into the armchair.
“Don’t you?”
Peter was looking far too smug for Derek’s liking. “Either get to the point, or leave.”
“You didn’t notice anything about Stiles, either, did you?”
Derek felt his shoulder muscles tense at the mention of Stiles’ name. He fought the urge to leap up and press his claws against Peter’s throat. It wasn’t like this was the first time Peter had deliberately gotten under his skin. “Why would I have noticed anything about Stiles?” he asked, trying to sound disinterested.
It must not have worked, because Peter’s smirk was nearly splitting his face now. “For the same reason you might have noticed something about Scott.”
“I hate it when you’re being needlessly cryptic.”
“Oh, it’s never needless.” Peter relaxed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning backwards a bit. “So you still maintain that you have no interest in Scott’s love life?”
“It’s none of my business,” Derek retorted, probably more sharply than he should have. “And none of yours, either.”
“Ugh, you sound like your mother.”
Derek bared his teeth.
“I’m just saying,” Peter drawled, “you can’t stay in here all night. Maybe you should go pay your… respects.” He said the word respects with a grimace, as though even forming the syllables put a bad taste in his mouth.
“If I do, will you go away?”
“No promises.”
Derek got up and shoved his way past Peter to the stairwell. Maybe if he ignored him for long enough, Peter would get bored and go away. Sadly, he followed Derek downstairs. Derek could feel the smirk burning into the back of his skull.
Isaac was looking in his direction when he finished untangling himself from the streamers spanning the entrance to the living room. Isaac and Allison were sitting together on the love seat in front of the television, thighs pressed together, and he nodded at Derek once before settling his hand on Allison’s knee. She turned and startled when she saw Derek standing there.
Derek stuffed his hands in his pockets and attempted a smile.
“Derek!” said Allison, her voice overly bright. “How have you been?”
“Fine,” he said. “Is there any soda?”
“In the fridge. There should be cold ones in the front, warmer near the back.”
“Thanks.” He went into the kitchen as quickly as he could to get away from Allison’s misplaced enthusiasm.
Peter called out, “Give my regards to Scott,” as Derek slipped through the row of streamers.
Scott, Cora, and Stiles were in the kitchen, clustered between the fridge and the table. Stiles’ back was turned to Derek. He had a tumbler of whisky in one hand and a skewer of chicken in the other, but that didn’t stop him from gesticulating wildly when he spoke, the amber liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. He was mumbling something about turtles and radioactive materials, his voice slightly slurred from the alcohol, as Scott beamed back at him and Cora looked like she was trying not to laugh.
Derek didn’t want to interrupt. It would have been rude to make them move, just so he could grab something from the refrigerator. He was entirely justified in stopping in his tracks, turning, and fleeing the kitchen silently.
When he came back through the streamer doorway, Peter took one look at him and started laughing.
“Shut up,” Derek said, and went back upstairs.
***
It was Cora who found him five minutes later, a bottle of cream soda extended in offering. “Just talk to him,” she said, before turning to go back downstairs. “Idiot.”
Chapter 3: Awkward