Sterek. Stiles is a YouTube star. Derek is the normal dude who hooked up with him for a minute in a club and always regretted not getting his number. He sees him on Cora's computer being adorable on the internet and DIES.
Cora is laughing hysterically at her computer again, wiping away tears of mirth from her eyes. Derek looks up from his studying, giving her a glare but she doesn’t notice. “Can you take that somewhere else?” he asks, annoyed. He’s got three finals to study for and doesn’t need the distraction.
“Sorry, bro, I just can’t, he’s done it again,” Cora says, flopping over, her whole body quaking with hysterical laughter. She yanks the headphones out of her laptop, jaunty music playing through the speakers. “Seriously, you gotta see this, it’s totally made my day."
Derek grudgingly moves from his workspace to stand behind Cora, looking over her shoulder at laptop screen, where there is a YouTube channel playing. The music stops and the a guy pops up in the screen again, pulling a face, and Cora doubles over in laughter again.
Derek freezes. Holy fuck. That’s the guy—that’s the guy from last week, from Splash Bar— that’s—
"Stiles,” Cora supplies, “Isn’t he great?” she sighs, as Stiles on the screen jumps into a hysterical story about waiting for the bus.
The video does all but capture his quirks and adorable mannerisms, driven by personality and frenetic energy, all bright-eyed excitement.
It doesn’t quite add up to Derek’s brief, frantic memory of warm, wet hurried kisses, moles dotted on pale skin, a warm body pressed against his own, mouth wet as he—