So andavs is not quite ready to post her art version yet (we already checked, the mind meld factor is not high…), but I wanted to put this up because it is a special gift for obriensnipples! Primarily as a belated birthday present, because she wanted Derek mowing the lawn shirtless but also because rough times suck and I hope this fic helps with that even if only a little bit!
Stiles’ summer vacation does not start out well. In fact, it
starts out pretty poorly.
Okay, really, it’s a fucking disaster.
Because, Stiles is walking out of Beacon Hills High,
officially a Junior now that the final bell has rung, and he’s talking to Scott
who keeps insisting that Junior year will be the year that he will finally ask
Allison out and Scott has fallen behind to stare at her and Stiles keeps
walking because Scott will catch up eventually, though Stiles is keeping an eye
on him, and-
Well, that’s when he gets hit by a car.
Not just any car, though. No, when Stiles regains
consciousness and manages to blink away the dark spots that take up 90% of his
vision, he finds himself staring at the front of a black Camaro.
And the only black Camaro in Beacon Hills belongs to…
“Oh my god.” Derek Hale.
Derek Hale, the now-senior lacrosse player and subject of
almost all of Stiles’ dirtiest fantasies.
He groans. And it’s only partly from the pain.
“Stiles!” Scott sounds frantic. “I’m calling an ambulance.”
“I don’t need,” Stiles tries. And then stops. Because he
looks down to see his leg covered in blood and he has never liked blood and-
well, he doesn’t complain when Scott stands up with the phone pressed to his
“I’m sorry!” Derek Hale is saying and he sounds… angry? This
is not how Stiles wanted his first interaction with Derek Hale to go. “You
just- you just walked right into the road!”
“Dude,” Stiles replies, rubbing at his eye. “Are you really
blaming me for this?”
“Not blaming you,
I just- you walked right in front of me!”
“You hit me with your car!” Stiles winces at the sounds of
his own voice. It’s too loud. Everything is too loud.
When he opens his eyes again, Derek’s eyebrows are draw
together in concern.
“I’m sorry,” Derek repeats. It’s probably just the result of
Derek’s ridiculously attractive face and Stiles’ epic crush on the kid, but
Stiles forgives him instantly. Even though he’s getting colder by the second
and he’s pretty sure that’s not a good thing.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, waving a hand and
regretting it when the motion hurts his leg somehow. “I’m sure I’m fine.”