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The day before Stiles set off to college, he made a promise to himself: His days of pinning and falling in love with people that didn’t return his feelings were over.
And, all right, it wasn't as if it happened that often.
He’d had a crush on Lydia for years, and while he still thought of her as an unattainable goddess, he was glad their relationship had remained strictly platonic. Their friendship wasn’t as close as the one he shared with Scott, but they still had a lot in common, and having her as a study partner had done wonders for his GPA.
Then there was Malia. They’d dated for a little over a month, and Stiles genuinely thought that in time, his feelings for her could turn into love. Unfortunately, Malia dashed his hopes pretty quickly when she realized she was actually a lesbian. She’d been sorry about leading him on, but Stiles didn’t hold it against her. They remained friends, and while he was a bit sad things didn't work out, he was still happy for her.
College would be different, though. He’d matured a lot the last couple of months, even if Scott didn’t seem to agree, and he was totally ready to make some awesome friendships and not focus on his love life at all. And if someone actually liked him, then they could make the first move. He was not going to fall head over heels for someone way out of his league again, and he was definitely not going to fall for someone with no interest in men.
Funny, how he ended up doing both at once.
Meeting Derek Hale was both the greatest and worst experience of his entire life.
As soon as he entered his dorm room and saw the bearded guy clad in a leather jacket, who immediately zeroed-in on him with the most unfriendly glare in existence, he was worried his roommate was going to be a complete asshole.
But a second later, the guy smiled and his whole face softened, and god, Stiles could already feel his heart hammering inside his chest.
“Hey, sorry, I thought you were my friend Erica again. She’s been pestering me about putting away my things before my roommate got here. I’m assuming that’s you?”
Act normal, Stilinski. This is a fresh start and you will not crush on a guy that only said two words to you—
“No. I mean, yes. I’m the roommate. Your roommate. I’m Stiles!”
Nailed it.
“I’m Derek,” the guy said, smile widening, and holy shit, were those dimples in his cheeks?
Wait, no, focus.
“Nice to meet you. And, um, don’t worry about the place. It looks fine.”
He looked around, and while the place was slightly messy, it still looked miles more organized than his room back at—
“Is that a Batman poster?” Stiles blurted out, eyes focused on the poster above Derek’s bed.
“Oh.” The top of Derek’s ears turned red, which was definitely a normal thing to notice, thank you very much. “Yes. I also have a Superman one that I need to put up, actually. Do you like DC, too?”
Fuck, Stiles was doomed.
Needless to say, Stiles roommate was the coolest person in the world. And there was a tiny, minuscule chance that Stiles was crushing on him.
First impressions could be deceiving, though. For all he knew, the guy could still turn out to be an asshole. And just because they both liked DC didn’t mean they had more things in common. He was sure once he got to know him better, the crush would fade easily and he would become just a random person that he happened to share a room with. Nothing to worry about.
All right, so maybe he should start worrying.
Derek Hale was not, in fact, an asshole. Or well, he was, but he was exactly the same brand of asshole that Stiles was and they both seemed to speak sarcasm as their second language. It was a match made in heaven.
It didn’t take long for them to become friends. Throughout the next month, they got to know each other, and they had study sessions together, and had dinner in their room while watching movies together, and—
And yeah, that little crush? Maybe it wasn’t so little anymore.
He liked Derek. He more than liked him, actually, and it sucked, because he promised himself he wouldn’t fall in love with another person that wasn’t into guys, and he was certain the guy was straight. Stiles had told him he was bi a week after meeting each other, and Derek had only hummed in response.
He had, however, began wearing a pin with the colors of the bi flag in the lapel of his jacket. While the guy wasn’t exactly quiet or shy, he did seem to have a problem expressing himself at times, so Stiles figured it was his way of being supportive. Showing Stiles that he was an ally and totally cool with him playing for both teams.
Which was… nice. It was really sweet, actually, though slightly weird, but he appreciated the sentiment.
His feelings for Derek were a problem, though. He genuinely felt awful about it, because he really didn’t want to ruin their friendship. He didn’t think Derek would be a dick about it, be he was worried that he would start pulling away, and that would suck.
He refused to make Derek uncomfortable with his feelings. He would put on his big boy pants and repress the shit out of them, because that was clearly the normal and mature thing to do. He would be the best fucking friend Derek Hale ever had.
It was a foolproof plan. There was no way it would blow up in his face.
He didn’t count on Derek himself making his life needlessly complicated, though.
“Um… hi?” Stiles asked after getting out of class, blinking at Derek in confusion. “Don’t you have class?”
Derek moved from the wall he was leaning against and gave the coffee he had in his hand to Stiles, alongside a wrapped muffin he’d been carrying in his pocket.
“I have some time. I just came to drop that off and I thought we could walk together to your next class,” he said with a shrug.
“Oh.” Stiles was not blushing, he was not. “Erica and Boyd busy or something?”
Derek hummed noncommittally, and asked about how his class went instead.
Stiles began rambling as he usually did as they walked, and didn’t even notice they had made it to the building, until Derek pointed out the time. Then, he squeezed Stiles’ shoulder briefly and started making his way to his own class. On the other side of campus.
Weird.
Meeting up in between classes became a routine.
Stiles didn’t even ask why Derek was doing it anymore. He was always starving by the time he got back to their shared-room in the evenings, and Derek had to put up with him bitching about it more than once, so he figured that was it. He was a good friend that was taking time out of his day to feed him. And this way, he wouldn’t have to put up with Stiles complaining he was hungry. It was a win-win, really.
Things got even more confusing, however, when Derek started lending him his jacket.
Stiles kept mentioning how cold it had been getting, and how he should have bought some warm jackets because his were useless in the cold, apparently. Derek seemed to have had enough with him bitching about the weather too, because next thing Stiles knew, the guy had shrugged off his jacket and almost thrown it at Stiles’ head.
“Dude!” Stiles laughed, trying to give it back to Derek, who stubbornly kept his arms crossed. “You’re going to freeze, I wasn’t trying to steal your jacket.”
“I like the cold,” Derek said, rolling his eyes. “You, however, are like a lizard. I’ve seen how many pairs of socks you put on when you go to sleep.”
“But—”
“I don’t want you to get sick,” Derek blurted out, and then frowned, as if he hadn’t meant to let that slip.
Stiles didn’t take it to heart, though. He was even more annoying than usual when he got sick, and Derek could probably sense the same thing. Still, the gesture was nice, and Stiles couldn’t help but blush as he put on the jacket, the scent of Derek's cologne reaching his nose.
The blush had nothing to do with that, though. He was just getting warm. Nothing else.
Derek apparently took his job of keeping Stiles warm very seriously.
Not only was the jacket-sharing a regular thing, but Derek now insisted on them burrowing under the covers of his bed every time they watched a movie together. Stiles had wanted to protest, not sure he could handle being so close to him, but Derek had looked determined.
So against his better judgement, he agreed, and not only did he get to cuddle with Derek almost every night, but more often than not, they fell asleep together.
The first time it happened, Stiles had freaked out when he woke up draped all over Derek’s chest, worried he had crossed a line.
But Derek had just opened one eye, and said, “It’s too early for this. Go back to sleep.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Why would I?” And with that, he’d gone back to sleep.
Seriously, Stiles needed to have a talk with his traitorous heart and get it to chill the fuck out.
Derek was his friend. A great friend, apparently, who was clearly very comfortable with Stiles’ sexuality—which would have been great if it had been anyone else. Because Stiles was falling for him, hard, and at this rate, he didn’t think he would be able to stop.
In retrospect, he was surprised Derek’s friends hadn’t ambushed them sooner.
“Well, hello there.” A voice said, startling Stiles into almost dropping his coffee.
Thankfully, Derek managed to catch it on time, as he shot the newcomer a glare over Stiles’ shoulder. “Seriously, Erica?”
“Aw, Derek, come on. You’ve kept Stiles hidden away for long enough, don’t you think?”
Derek rolled his eyes, and then shifted his glare to the man beside her.
“You know how she is when she gets impatient. And I wanted to mee the guy too, so,” the man—whom Stiles assumed was Boyd—shrugged, clearly unrepentant.
“Hey, it’s cool,” Stiles intervened, noticing how tense Derek had become. “I’m Stiles. Um, you’re Boyd and Erica, right?”
The couple smiled, and after a couple of minutes, the conversation began to flow normally. Even Derek seemed to relax beside him, though he was standing slightly closer to him than usual. Stiles got so distracted by the conversation that he didn’t notice he was running late to his next class, until Derek pointed it out to him.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I have to go. I’m looking forward to seeing you again, though,” Stiles said, trying to be polite. He liked them, but they were Derek’s friends, and he didn’t really want to intrude.
“Oh, definitely. We could even make it a double date, if you wanted,” Erica said, winking at him.
Stiles froze, worried she had somehow found out about his feelings for Derek, but when he noticed Boyd rolling his eyes and whispering a quick, “be nice,” to Erica, he relaxed. She was probably just teasing. She seemed like the type, from the brief conversation they’d shared.
Derek, however, had tensed up once again, and he seemed extremely bothered by Erica’s comment. Which, ouch, but fair. As chill as he was about Stiles being bi, the idea of them dating was obviously not at all appealing to him.
Managing a small smile, Stiles said, “we can hang out whenever you want,” hoping it would be a sufficiently diplomatic answer.
Erica’s expression shifted slightly, as if she’d been expecting a different reaction, but then she smiled again. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Stiles: hey quick question what do you do when you wake up and realize the roommate you’re not-at-all falling in love with is drunk and sleeping on top of you
Scott: dude wtf
Yeah, that had been his exact reaction too.
Stiles sighed and put his phone back on the nightstand. He tried to move a little under Derek’s weight, wondering if he could maybe slide out from under him before he woke up, but Derek made a noise of protest and tightened his hold on Stiles’ waist, nuzzling even closer into the crook of his neck.
Which felt really good, actually—wait, no. This was not the time to get distracted.
“Derek. Come on, big guy, wake up,” he said, shaking Derek slightly.
After a couple more shakes, Derek started to wake up. Stiles expected him to jump away and start making his excuses, but he just burrowed further into Stiles’ hold, his lips brushing against Stiles’ skin, and jesus fucking christ.
“Stop freaking out. I can get off if it makes you uncomfortable,” Derek whispered against his throat, and Stiles couldn’t help but shiver at the sensation.
“If it makes me uncomfortable?” What the hell was Derek playing at? “I’m just confused.”
“Sorry. I came back from a party Erica and Boyd dragged me to, and I just… you looked comfortable. And safe. I guess it was instinctual.”
“… Your first instinct was to get in my bed and cuddle with me?”
It’s not like they hadn’t slept in the same bed before, because they did, regularly. But this was different. This wasn’t Derek trying to keep Stiles warm to stop his whining or them crashing after watching a movie. Derek has deliberately crawled into Stiles’ bed in the middle of the night, while Stiles was sleeping in it. Because he made Derek feel safe, apparently.
What the fuck was going on?
"Come on, Stiles. I haven't been subtle." Derek finally loosened his hold, shifting until he was hovering over him.
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“I want you. And I think… I think you want me, too.” Derek whispered roughly. He trailed a hand over Stiles’ hips, his thumb brushing just under his shirt to feel the skin underneath.
Stiles could feel his own heart hammering in his chest. He genuinely wondered for a second if maybe this was a dream, but at this point, he didn’t care. Real or not, Derek had just said he wanted him, and Stiles… Stiles was done trying to pretend that he didn’t want him back.
He lifted a hand to cradle Derek’s jaw, the other one clutching at Derek’s shirt to pull him closer, but right before their lips met, he realized—
“Wait, shit, I can’t—” he closed his eyes, groaning as the smell of alcohol on Derek’s breath brought forth the image of his dad. He had mentioned his dad’s struggle with alcohol in the past to Derek, so hopefully he would understand why he wouldn’t want to kiss him like this. “Could you brush your teeth first? I just, the smell—”
Thankfully, Derek didn’t seem offended. Instead, the top of his ears turned red, and with a kiss to his jaw and a quick, “be right back,” he hurried to the bathroom.
Just as the door closed, Derek’s phone started vibrating non-stop on the night stand.
Stiles ignored it at first, not wanting to invade Derek’s privacy, but when the messages kept coming, he started to worry. He lit up the screen, just to see who was sending them, and realized it was Erica. When he noticed the latest text said “ANSWER ME THIS IS AN EMERGENCY”, he unlocked the screen and opened it.
He never intended to read the texts. He was just going to skim over them, to make sure she was okay and it wasn’t actually urgent, already taking a breath to call out to Derek and let him know, when his eyes instinctively focused on the first message.
Erica: Did he fall for it or not?
Stiles felt his insides turn cold, the breath he was holding leaving him in a rush. He knew it was stupid to jump to conclusions, but he couldn’t help it. He had to—he needed to know what she meant.
He threw a quick glance at the closed bathroom door, and with shaking hands, he began to read.
Erica: Seriously you're a terrible actor
Erica: There's no way he didn't realize you were actually sober
Erica: Dereeek come on, you can't be sleeping still
Erica: Did you finally fuck him??
Erica: Did you at least kiss him???
Erica: Come on, the guy is SO into you
Erica: How hard can it be
Erica: ANSWER ME THIS IS AN EMERGENCY
Erica: If you don't answer in the next 5 minutes I'm going to assume you're too busy crying into your pillow because you lost the bet
Stiles slowly put the phone down. He wasn’t shaking anymore. Instead, he was completely numb.
He didn’t want to believe it. He tried to think of another explanation, of anything that would help him make sense of Erica’s texts, but there was nothing.
Did he fall for it?
And he had. For a second, he fucking had, and god, he was so stupid.
He’d promised himself college would be different. That it would be a fresh start, and he would no longer fall for people out of his league or that weren’t actually into him.
And somehow, he had managed to do both, in the form of an asshole who clearly enjoyed playing with people’s feelings. He’d known from the beginning Stiles was into him—the coffee, the jacket, the cuddling; every weird thing Derek had done had been him trying to manipulate Stiles, but for what? A fucking bet?
Jesus, he sure knew how to picked them.
“Stiles?” Stiles looked up as Derek quickly moved towards him, his brow furrowed in concern. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you—”
“Fuck you,” he chocked out, unable to keep his voice from shaking. He didn’t know if it was from hurt, or anger, or a combination of both, but it didn’t matter.
He needed to get out.
He pushed Derek away and stumbled to his feet, hurrying towards the door, not even caring that he was still in his pajamas. Derek seemed unwilling to let him go, however, as he quickly snatched his wrist, turning Stiles around so he could face him.
Stiles had to give it to him; he wasn’t actually that bad of an actor. If he didn’t know any better, he would definitely fall for the worried, almost devastated expression on his face.
“Stiles, please, what’s going on? If I read things wrong, I’m sorry, I just thought you wanted—”
“Stop with the fucking act, dude.”
“What act? Stiles, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please, just—”
Stiles tried to laugh, but it came out more like a sob. “You know, I always thought you were a little too good to be true. But being so cruel to play with my feelings like this? Making me think I had a chance with you, when you were just trying to win a fucking bet? That’s fucking low, asshole.”
“Trying to—” Derek’s confused and worried expression instantly vanished as he paled, realization washing over him.
Noticing Derek had loosened the grip on his wrist, Stiles wrenched it away and moved towards the door, eager to get away. Derek seemed to recover quickly, though, and once again, he prevented Stiles’ escape—he quickly pushed the door close, bracketing Stiles against it and keeping him in place with a hand on his arm.
“Let me explain.”
“There is nothing to explain. Now let me go.”
“I don’t know what you think you saw, or heard, but I wasn’t—”
“I saw the texts from Erica, asshole!” Stiles yelled, elbowing Derek in the ribs. Derek grunted and let go of him, and Stiles spun around to face him, fisting his hand in the front of Derek’s shirt. “How much money was it, huh? What was she willing to pay you so you’d stoop so low as to sleep with the pathetic idiot that fell in love with you?”
If possible, Derek seemed to pale even further at his words. “It wasn’t like that. Stiles, please, just let me explain.”
Stiles knew it was a bad idea. But as the adrenaline left his body, he realized he wasn’t upset or even angry anymore. He was fucking exhausted.
And he wanted answers. He needed answers.
“…Fine. You have one minute. If you don’t let me leave this room after the time’s up, I will kick you in the balls. Don’t think I wouldn’t.”
“I believe you,” Derek said quietly, with a tentative smile. He grew quiet, then—most likely trying to come up with a believable lie.
“Fifty seconds,” Stiles reminded him.
“Fuck, okay.” Derek ran a hand over his face, and with a fortifying breath, he began to talk. “I told Erica I had a crush on you and she was convinced you felt the same way, so she told me I should try to test the waters, so I tried to flirt and I gave you things I knew you’d like, but it wasn’t working. Then Erica made a bet that wasn’t technically a bet, but more like, and I quote, ‘If you don’t ask stiles out in the next week, you will pay for mine and Boyd’s anniversary date, including the gifts’, and yesterday was the deadline and… I’m pretty sure I fucked it all up.”
“…You still have ten seconds. Also—for someone who’s bad at expressing himself, you can talk really fast when you’re nervous.”
“…Thanks?”
“Pretending for a moment that I believe all that, there are some things that don’t add up, dude. You never flirted with me. Or gave me nice things.”
Derek frowned. “Yes, I did.”
Stiles raised an eyebrow. “No, you didn’t.”
“I did,” Derek insisted. “I give you my jacket every time you complain about being cold. And I walk you to most of your classes, and I started buying you coffee and food to keep you going during the day, because you always get distracted and forget to take care of yourself. We cuddle on my bed almost every night. I didn’t know what to do anymore. I was starting to think Erica was wrong and you weren’t actually into me.”
“I thought you were being a good friend!” Stiles said, blushing. “And I thought you did most of those things because you were tired of hearing me bitch about everything. How was I supposed to know you being nice and feeding me was code for flirting?”
“I don’t do that stuff with anyone else. I thought it would be obvious,” Derek said, shoulders dropping in disappointment.
“Well, it wasn’t.” Stiles sighed."Besides, thought you were straight, dude."
"You thought I was—Stiles. I literally owe a pin with the bisexual flag in it. How—just, how?"
"Because when I told you I was bi, you didn't say anything! And then you got the pin and I thought you were just, like, an ally or something."
"An ally," Derek repeated, sounding extremely unimpressed.
"Well, you could have said something!" With a groan, Stiles let go of Derek's shirt, thumping his head into the door behind him. “Nevermind that. What about the whole ‘pretending to be drunk’ thing you tried to pull?”
Now it was Derek’s turn to blush. “I’m not good at… words. Obviously. So I thought if I got drunk I would finally be able to tell you how I felt. But then I remembered the whole thing with your dad, and it seemed like a bad idea.”
“And passing out ‘drunk’ on my bed wasn’t?”
“We always sleep together, I didn’t think you’d mind. But in retrospect, it was a shitty plan from the start. Especially because you could still smell the alcohol on me this morning and that would obviously remind you of your dad, too,” Derek said, sounding defeated.
“I’ve done dumber shit when I was desperate, if it makes you feel better,” Stiles said, smiling slightly.
Derek’s face went serious again, as he hesitantly placed a hand on Stiles’ jaw. “Seriously, I’m sorry. This is not at all how I planned this to go and I definitely didn’t think you’d found out in the shittiest way possible. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“To be fair, I shouldn’t have read your texts. I thought there was something wrong with Erica, but that’s no excuse. If I hadn’t been so nosy, we could have probably prevented all this.” Stiles shrugged. “So… how about we call it even.”
“So… still friends?” Derek asked. He looked miserable, as if he had completely fucked up his chances with Stiles, and yeah, no. As if.
Stiles shook his head and pulled Derek closer to press their lips together, briefly.
“Let’s go on a date and see if we can upgrade that to boyfriends.”
Derek’s smile was blinding.