Merry Christmas, tsumi-noaru!
Title: “Poor Derek”
Word Count: 2995
Warnings: underage (but same age), very versatile boys
Author Notes: Sterek High School AU, pre-bite!Scott, no Hale tragedy, brainy jock Derek and wild boy Stiles in high school
Betas: koshweasley and wings128 – many thanks to both of you!
Summary: For high-scoring, scholarships-and-a-bright-future Derek Hale, the worst thing that can happen is to stop thinking. Rule-breaking, trouble-on-two-legs Stilinski has exactly that effect on just about everyone.
That’s what they were going to say when his grades slipped, when he missed application deadlines, when his scores were more like, well, like Stiles’ scores.
It’s exactly what they did say, especially Derek’s AP study partner, Lydia Martin. She said it sarcastically the first time, but after she heard Stiles was involved, it was mournful, like she was losing a friend to drugs. Scott said it with deepest pity.
“Poor Derek,” said Stiles, watching the new kid flip through his binder to find the map of all the classrooms.
Stiles said it like he didn’t care; he’d led more than a few guys at BHHS astray and Derek looked like an easy mark. This time, though, something inside him twinged even as he tried to be bad.
Derek, for his part, never felt self-pity or regret, not even as his GPA ticked downward. He did feel one thing very clearly from the start and that was the ache in his chest when this kid – this lithe brown-eyed guy with a staggered line of tiny moles across his cheek and neck – slid himself into the seat next to his in Health Ed and lifted his eyes slowly, all the way up Derek’s body, pausing to bite his lip somewhere around Derek’s crotch.
Derek ached for those eyes, for the mouth that curved up at one corner, and the long, widespread muscular thighs. Lightly hairy forearms gripped the edge of the desk as he lowered himself smoothly into place facing Derek. Derek whined audibly and it was like prey sounds to this predator in the next row. The long nimble fingers were reaching out now to tap on his desk and Derek’s eyes flicked up and down – fingers, eyes, lips.
“Be my partner,” said the lips, and the eyes more than backed that up with their own winking promises. The fingers tapped impatiently.