Stiles is wiping down the counters and humming California Gurls to himself when the bell above the door chimes and Derek walks in. The next notes of the song get stuck in his throat and he freezes. Stiles shouldn’t be surprised, really. The rest of the pack have already been by to visit him, even Jackson. Of course, Scott was the only person Stiles ended up giving a free drink to, much to their disappointment.
Derek swaggers up to the counter Stiles is stationed behind, because that’s the only way Derek apparently knows how to walk. He’s wearing a maroon knitted sweater today that looks unfairly cozy. Stiles slaps his own hand down from reaching out and touching the fabric because that would be weird. Although slapping yourself might be weirder. Oh well.
Stiles is having a bad day. Super bad. He broke his alarm, was late to work, and managed to have coffee spilled on him twice in one day. To make matters worse, the handsome guy who play lacrosse with his best friend happens to watch it happen the second time. Why can’t Stiles catch a break?
Stiles is standing in the annoyingly ever-so-slow line at the coffee shop when a literal Greek Adonis walks in and takes the spot in line directly behind him. Stiles lets out a quiet, strangled sound when Hello-My-Name-Is-Sex-God nods at him in silent acknowledgement. He ends up spinning back around on his heels to face the person in front of him, breathing intensely.
Remain calm, he tells himself. It’s not like he’s standing right behind you. Not at all. Nope.
Derek was the one that brought Stiles dinner when he knew Stiles had forgotten, and Derek was the one that massaged Stiles’ feet when he was stressed. When they watched a movie, Stiles snuggled up against him, and Stiles trusted Derek enough to fall asleep on his shoulder. When Stiles woke up in the middle of the night screaming, Derek was the one that held until he fell back asleep, and in return, Stiles would help him count his fingers when Derek wasn’t sure if he was awake.