I would devote 15 years of my life to becoming a restaurant chef, get on Chopped, ignore the basket ingredients, and make a raw red onion salad with a white truffle oil vinaigrette just so I could stare into Scott Conants eyes as he is contractually obligated to eat it
“The thing is, the two of us have been down very similar roads. I mean, we were in the same cliques first. We both felt the same pressures, same expectations. Our parents were like children, and we both grew into kind of bad versions of ourselves way too fast. So I think you know I get it. They never really gave us a chance, did they - our parents? They didn’t know how. Look, the thing is, you made your dream happen, all right? And even though I didn’t quite get there, when it was taken away from me,I dealt with it alone. That was stupid, selfish and wrong. So if your mom tries to take your dream away from you and you feel that same pain I did I’ve sort of been there, okay? I’m gonna be kind of pissed off if you don’t come talk to me about it. Anyway, thank you for coming today. It means a lot. I know you didn’t know Quentin but it doesn’t surprise me that you’re thinking about other people when all this stuff is going on with you. That’s not bad for a girl who never had a chance.”
Derek is there when Scott and Stiles are filling out a questionnaire for an online dating thing, and Derek keeps muttering the answers under his breath. And the answers are really good and accurate. And then there’s kissing :)
(this doesn’t quite meet the prompt, sry)
“What’s your favorite color?” Scott asked, reading off the screen.
“Red,” Derek said from behind his copy of Dante’s Divine Comedy, which wow, talk about pretentious.
“Red,” Stiles said a few seconds later, kicking out at Derek with his foot. He barely reached the reclining chair Derek was sitting on. "Next.“
"Would you rather give roses or chocolates?”
“Neither, Stiles thinks he’s too unique for those, but in truth he’d probably give both out of desperation. Then throw in an android tablet.”
“Hey!” Stiles yelped indignantly, bracing himself on the back of the couch so he could kick out at Derek again. His foot connected solidly with Derek’s thigh, and the chair turned about ten degrees away from Stiles and smacked against the side table. Derek didn’t even look up as the chair slowly rotated. "Ok, true.“
"Ignore him,” Scott said, glaring at his older brother. "This will work, I promise you. Lots of people meet online dating now.“
"I’d have better chances meeting someone playing WoW,” Stiles muttered.
Derek smirked at him as he pushed the chair back at the angle he had it at.
“Describe your ideal date,” Scott prompted.
Derek reached over and grabbed his notepad and scribbled something down.
“Well,” Stiles said, eyes narrowed at Derek. "You don’t have 2 cents to put in?“
“No, I mean your ideal date: me.”
“Har, har, asshole. But you’re wrong, my ideal date is something low key, like take out and a movie.”
A ball of paper landed on his lap, and he uncrinkled it to find ‘burgers and a movie’ in Derek’s terrifyingly neat writing.
Derek just shrugged. "I was close.“
"No,” Stiles said, getting to his feet and standing in front of Derek’s chair. "No, you were absolutely right.“ Then he started laughing. "Oh my god, my ideal date is you.”
Derek scowled at him.
“If you wanted the job, you should have just said.”
“Stop aggravating Der…” Scott started.
“I don’t want the job,” Derek denied, mouth screwing up like he tasted something sour.
“You want me, admit it. That’s why you notice so much about me. You just want all of this,” Stiles answered, kicking down the reclining part of Derek’s chair, so Derek was forced to sit with his feet on the ground. "I bet you really want me to kiss you right now.“
"No.” Derek sneered. "Notice? You bought me a pair of Ray-Bans for my birthday, how could I not? What are you doing?“
"Climbing on your lap,” Stiles answered, matter of fact, as he braced both his knees on either side of Derek’s thighs. It was a tight fit, but the chair was big enough. "Do you think I won’t?“
"Yeah… I don’t think so.”
“Would the two of you stop playing chicken?” Scott asked.
“No?” Stiles asked, looking into Derek’s eyes.
That was definitely a dare. A challenge.
Stiles dodged forward and pressed his mouth against Derek’s lips. Immediately, Derek’s arms came up to hold him in place. Stiles pulled back with great difficulty, as in it was difficult to stop kissing Derek because kissing Derek was amazing, and also because Derek didn’t seem to want him to stop.
But, well… gloating was a thing that needed to happen.
“Fuck,” Derek groaned as Stiles pulled back enough. "Yes, I do want you, you annoying little shit.“
"Oh thank god.”
“The two of you deserve each other,” Scott whined, hand over his eyes.