So for the meetcute prompts could you do number 7 please? 💖
This was so much fun! Thanks for the prompt! And, as always, also on ao3!
Truth be told, Derek had never actually kissed anyone before. Not really.
Sure, he had kissed Paige on the cheek once or twice back in their sophomore year, kissing her farewell when he dropped her off back home after one of their handful of dates. And he might have kissed the back of her hand while asking if she wanted to dance at the winter formal, but that was all.
They had only gone out a few times, gone to a few dances together, but that was before she had officially come out. A few days before winter break, she had sat Derek down and explained that while she’d had a really nice time with him on their dates and at the dances, she was one hundred percent into girls not guys.
Derek had done everything he could to be supportive, hugging her and thanking her for feeling comfortable enough to share something so personal with him, even offering to throw her a coming out party. She had declined, but shortly afterwards she had started dating his younger sister, Cora.
So, he and Paige had never really kissed. And he had never gone out with anyone else after Paige, either, preferring to focus on his schoolwork. He put all of his effort into maintaining his spotless GPA and honing his skills for the basketball team, hoping to be team captain one day.
Besides, he constantly had to worry about keeping the fact that he was a werewolf hidden so as not to draw any unwanted attention from hunters or worse. And so as much as his friends teased him about being an asocial nerd, dating and kissing just weren’t that high on his list of priorities.
Which was why he was still upset with himself for letting Erica and Isaac drag him to some raucous party at Jackson Whittemore’s palatial house. On a school night, no less!
With Boyd out of town visiting family in New York, Erica was without a ride to the wild party, the same one she and Isaac had been talking about nonstop for weeks. Derek being the only other person in their little group of friends with a car, the sleek black Camaro that Laura had passed down to him when she had left for Princeton his freshman year, the scheming duo had turned to him for a ride.
He was helpless to deny them, especially when they both gave him their best puppy dog eyes. How Boyd managed to resist giving Erica whatever she wanted when she jut out her bottom lip and batted her eyelashes oh so innocently, Derek would never know. So, he agreed to drive them to the party, Erica’s promise that Stiles would be at the party perhaps influencing his decision a bit, too. Just maybe.
Because while dating wasn’t very high up on his lift of to-dos and kissing wasn’t something he dedicated himself to pursuing, it didn’t mean he never thought about them. He did. Quite often, as a matter of fact. And the person starring most prominently in his little daydreams and half-baked fantasies he usually reserved for late at night when he couldn’t sleep, was none other than Stiles Stilinski.
Stiles was infectious. Not in a bad way, it was just that everything about him was positively contagious. His enthusiasm, his laughter, his sometimes twisted sense of humor, even his unique way of looking at the world around himself. It was all just contagious.
Derek didn’t know a single person who didn’t laugh when Stiles made some kind of horrendous yet clever pun about whatever time period they were studying in history of whatever formula they were going over in calculus. Even people who, somehow, didn’t like Stiles always cracked a smile at his well placed one liners and sly innuendos.
Except Mr. Harris. But Derek was pretty sure he didn’t have a soul so he didn’t really count.
Stiles was like a ray of sunshine, ushering forth light and warmth to brighten up even the gloomiest day when he strolled into class fashionably late and took a seat in the front row. He never failed to make Derek’s day just a little bit better, whether it be with an offhand joke or a conspiratorial wink in his direction, or even just a smile or wave in greeting when they passed each other in the hallway.
And he was just so genuinely nice, it almost hurt.
He always asked people about how their day was going and actually listened when they answered, sometimes just sitting with someone he barely knew and letting them rant about school or their family or their favorite TV show. When someone was upset, he would just wrap them up in a tight hug or squeeze their shoulder, tell them that he was there if they ever needed someone to talk to.
He never let any bullying go unnoticed, sometimes charging right up to the perpetrator just to divert attention away from whoever was being bullied. He had ended up with his own fair share of black eyes and bloody noses for his troubles, serving weeks worth of time in detention, but it never stopped him.
A few years ago, he had actually smashed Matt Daehler’s phone when the little creep had recorded a video of Erica having an epileptic seizure. Stiles had wrenched the phone out of Matt’s hand and slammed it onto the ground before stomping on it a few times for good measure as he directed his friend Scott to call the nurse.
He was caring and considerate, alway carrying an extra inhaler in case Scott had an asthma attack, keeping an Epipen on hand should anyone have an allergic reaction, his backpack stocked with pads and tampons for people who unexpectedly had their period. He even carried different sized condoms around so no one had unprotected sex if they were too embarrassed to go out and buy their own, giving them away without charging anyone.
Stiles was amazing. And Derek really, really wanted to kiss him.
So, when he saw Stiles sitting down in the circle of people gathering in the living room to play spin the bottle, he threw caution to the wind and took a seat directly across from him. He could feel his ears burn at the curious looks he received from the rest of the people in the makeshift circle, Stiles cocking his head to the side as he scanned his eyes over Derek in blatant curiosity.
“Hey, Derek,” Stiles greeted with a soft, inviting smile as Jackson grabbed an empty bottle of beer from off the coffee table that had been shoved aside into the corner to give them more room. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Derek just scratched the back of his neck and shrugged, feeling his face flush even more under Stiles’ undivided attention, not sure what he did to deserve such rapt interest. Stiles was the first to break eye contact, turning his head to look at some guy Derek didn’t recognize, probably someone from the swim team given the logo on his sweatshirt, who had cleared his throat loud enough to draw everyone’s attention.
“Aight, here are the rules,” he started, giving the empty bottle a test spin on the hardwood floor, the glass rattling a bit as it twirled around a few times. Stopping the bottle’s rotation when it pointed at himself, he continued, “We start with Jackson and go around the circle to his left. Ya spin the bottle and whoever it land on, ya kiss. Any questions?”
Derek raised his hand. A chorus of laughter greeted the gesture, almost everyone in the circle throwing their heads back and laughing loudly. Stiles, sweet Stiles, was one of the only ones who didn’t, along with the new girl Kira and the girl Derek recognized as Scott’s on-again off-again girlfriend, Allison.
Waiting until the laughter died down before speaking, Derek ducked his head and nervously scratched the back of his neck. Voice shaking as he tried to defend himself, Derek managed to squeak, “Do we have to kiss them?”
“What’s wrong, Hale? Too much of a pussy to play spin the bottle?” The guy who had explained the rules gasped out breathlessly, another round of laughter following Derek’s quiet question. Elbowing Jackson in the ribs, the guy continued his cruel ribbing, demanding, “Not man enough to do a little kissing?”
“Maybe he just doesn’t want to have to kiss you, Brad,” Stiles retorted, seemingly out of nowhere, cocking a brow as he leveled the other guy with a downright icy glower. Pointing an accusatory finger at the guy, apparently named Brad’s, face, Stiles charged, “Probably doesn’t wanna catch anything. We all saw that cold sore on your lip last week!”
The cacophony of laughter was almost immediately silenced, a few people audibly gasping at Stiles’ sharp words as everyone gawked at him, eyes darting between Stiles and Brad. Eventually, Brad wavered under Stiles’ intense glare, slumping his shoulders and turning his head away, looking like a pup who had just been reprimanded by his alpha, Derek feeling a rush of affection and secondhand pride swell within him.
Huffing deeply to himself, Stiles turned to face Derek again, hard expression melting away, a soft smile stretching across his face, handsome features softening. He reached over to gently pat Derek on the knee, the innocent contact making the latter’s face flood with heat and color as Stiles explained, “You don’t have to kiss anyone if you don’t want to. You can just answer a truth or dare kind of question. Okay?”
Derek nodded, mustering up a grin that Stiles enthusiastically and wholeheartedly returned, sitting back up and cracking his knuckles. He sent Derek a wink as Jackson grabbed the bottle to officially start the game, spinning it with a twist of his wrist before letting it go, the entire circle of people on the edge of their seats on the floor.
The bottle spun in a full circle a few times before gradually slowing down, swirling around sluggishly before coming to a complete stop. It pointed directly at a pretty brunette a few spots away on Derek’s left, directly between he and Stiles, Derek extremely grateful it hadn’t landed on either of him.
The girl beamed excitedly and shuffled forward as Jackson did the same, meeting in the middle of the center of the circle, Jackson nearly crushing the bottle with his knee. Their lips met with a sickeningly wet, sloppy sound, Jackson burying his hand in the girl’s curly brown tresses as they kissed each other deeply before pulling away from each other.
Derek was a little shocked to say the very least. He honestly hadn’t expected such deep kisses. He had thought there would be quick pecks on the lips, not tongues down each other’s throats.
He was sorely tempted to leave the circle. But if he did, he would no longer have a chance of kissing Stiles. And he would be damned if he gave that up.
He watched the next couple rounds with a bit of trepidation, worried that someone might land on him, terrified he might not be able to muster up enough courage to decline kissing whoever the other, hypothetical person was. And he really didn’t want to squander his first kiss with some drunk jock at a high school party. He would rather have his first kiss with a specific sort of jock at a high school party.
Kira and Allison ended up kissing, both of their cheeks glowing bright pink as they a shared a chaste, lingering kiss. Allison stroked Kira’s cheek gently during the fleeting liplock, brushing a lock of curled black hair behind Kira’s left ear as they pulled away from each other.
Derek watched with a brand new spark of hope, wanting his first kiss to just as sweet and intimate and wonderful as theirs. The way they continued sharing little glances with each other throughout the rest of the game was one of the cutest things Derek had ever seen, aching to have the same thing with Stiles.
There were a few other kisses, people Derek didn’t know kissing people he only knew in passing, people he had known for years kissing each other. They all seemed to blur together in one giant series of mostly meaningless kisses. It was only Stiles’ kisses that he paid any real attention to.
He watched helplessly as a cute blonde girl, whose name he was pretty was Heather, spun the bottle and landed directly on Stiles. She squealed in excitement, enthusiastically cupping his face in her hands while she pressed an eager kiss to Stiles’ pretty pink lips. She pulled back with a loud giggle, Stiles looking a bit dazed.
Derek tried not to feel too let down, tried to tamp down on the niggling sensation of jealousy that rose up inside of him at the sight of Stiles kissing someone else. He forcibly reminded himself that Stiles didn’t owe him anything just because he had a massive, pathetic crush on him.
It was even worse when it was Stiles’ turn. He spun the bottle with a flourish, watching with bated breath as it landed right between Jackson and Danny. Rather than spin again or simply choose one of them to kiss, Stiles beckoned them both over, all three of them meeting in the center of the circle to press their lips together, tilting their heads at awkward angles to reach each other’s lips, Derek noticing more than a bit of tongue.
As awful as it was to watch Stiles kiss two other people simultaneously, Derek was distracted from the three-way kiss when the girl beside him spun the bottle, the lip of it pointing directly at him. He swallowed heavily as the girl actually clapped her hands together and nodded her head enthusiastically.
“Umm… Can I just answer a question, please?” Derek asked shakily, glancing over at Jackson and Brad whom no one had agreed to kiss, everyone apparently not wanting to catch anything as Stiles had said. Derek didn’t want to offend the poor girl who crossed her arms over her chest and scoffed, but at the same time he really did not want to kiss her, either.
“Alright,” Jackson agreed, nodding with a cocky smirk that someone really needed to smack off his too pretty, model-like face. His smirk stretching into a cruel looking grin, he pressed, “So, Hale. Tell us about your first kiss.”
Well, shit.
“Uh… Well, um…” Derek fumbled with his words, anxiously scratching the back of his neck as he tried to formulate a response that wasn’t humiliating. He couldn’t come up with one.
“No way!” Jackson crowed obnoxiously, looking way too pleased with himself. “You haven’t kissed anyone before, have you?!”
Stiles tossed an empty red solo cup at Jackson’s head at the same time as he snapped, “Shut up, Jackson!―” he turned back to Derek, soothing his voice “―Go ahead, Derek. It’s your turn.”
Derek took a deep breath and reached forward to grab the bottle, the glass cool against his fingertips as he spun it. He was tempted to close his eyes but he forced himself to watch as it spun around in tight circles until it slowed to a crawl, pointing straight at…Stiles.
Derek jerked his head up so fast he was surprised his head didn’t fly off, gawking in disbelief at Stiles who was actually blushing ― Stiles, blushing! ― while scratching the back of his head. With an almost shy shrug, Stiles chewed his lip and asked, “So… What d’ya say, big guy?”
Derek just nodded, waiting for Stiles to make the first move before crawling towards him in the middle of the circle, feeling his palms begin to sweat and his mouth go dry as he moved a bit closer. Fortunately, Stiles took the lead, curling a hand around the back of Derek’s neck, scratching his fingernails through the hair on the nape of his neck.
“Is this okay?” Stiles mumbled in a hushed whisper, biting his lower lip as he waited for some sort of answer. Derek simply nodded, not trusting his words. Stiles just smiled and moved a little closer. Stiles leaned in slowly, pressing his soft lips against Derek’s slightly chapped ones, squeezing the back of his neck reassuringly. He kept the kiss short and sweet and chaste until Derek began craving more.
Still internally freaking out about the fact that he was really kissing Stiles, yet feeling oddly bold because of it, Derek pressing his lips harder against Stiles’, silently asking for more. Stiles, quite possibly the most perceptive person Derek had ever met, hummed and opened his mouth to run his tongue over Derek’s lower lip, the mere touch sending a shiver of arousal through him.
He could feel his eyes flash behind his eyelids, glad he had closed his eyes the second their lips touched, saving him from traumatizing an entire room of human teenagers with his bright yellow eyes. Feeling much more confident than usual, he opened his own mouth a bit to nip at Stiles’ bottom lip, coming dangerously close to growling in pleasure, somehow containing the sound that threatened to spill out.
“Oww!” Stiles yelped, abruptly yanking his head back, pulling his hand away from Derek’s neck to touch his lips, fingers coming away from his mouth with a dab of deep red blood. Mind racing, Derek raised a hand to his own mouth, finding a drop of blood on his own lips, taste of copper filling his mouth.
A moment later, the realization that he had done it washed over him. In his delirious, kiss-obsessed haze, not only had his eyes flashed but his fangs had unbiddenly dropped, catching on Stiles’ lip and inadvertently cut him.
“Yo, did Hale just bite Stilinski?!” Jackson exclaimed incredulously, drawing everyone’s attention to the fact that Stiles’ lip had a tiny cut that was steadily dripping blood. It was only a small trickle but it was heart shattering to Derek nonetheless.
“Stiles! I― I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Derek babbled, holding up his palms as he apologized profusely, the fact that Stiles was hurt because of him beyond distressing. The possibility that Stiles might be upset with him, terrified him almost as much, eliciting him to continue apologizing, “I’m so sorry!”
“It’s fine, Derek,” Stiles assured, shaking his head at Derek’s desperate apology, shrugging it off. Poking at his lip with the pad of his index finger, he advised Derek, “Really, don’t worry about it.”
But Derek couldn’t accept Stiles’ calm toleration of the fact that Derek had just bitten him. Though, instead of apologizing any further, Derek did the only other thing he could think of. He ran away.
Pushing himself to his feet, he made a mad dash for the front door, at that point not caring if he used a little bit of werewolf speed in his haste to get his ass out of the house. Racing across the manicured front lawn littered with red solo cups, he made a beeline across the street to where he had parked his Camaro in front of Isaac’s house.
He wrenched the driver’s side door open and climbed into the driver’s seat, fully prepared to drive home and hide in his room for the rest of his life, or at least until the whole thing blew over. But when he realized that he would be abandoning Erica at the party, stranding her there without a ride, he groaned and rested his forehead on the steering.
He yelped in surprise when someone knocked on the passenger side window, hitting the horn with his elbow by accident as he looked up to see who it was, hoping it was Erica ready to go home. It wasn’t. It was Stiles.
He pointed at the door lock on the passenger side, gesturing for Derek to unlock it for him, flicking his thumb in imitation of a lock. Unable to deny Stiles anything, especially after hurting him, he clicked the unlock button on his own door, letting Stiles in.
Stiles slid into the passenger seat, closing the door behind himself, looking at Derek with a furrow in his brow, clearly confused. Scratching the side of his face, he asked, “Hey, what’s wrong? You high tailed it outta there pretty quick.”
“I bit you,” Derek grit out, his hands curling into fists around the steering wheel that creaked under his crushing grip, not caring one whit if he damaged the car. It was just a car, after all. Not precious or irreplaceable the way Stiles was.
“Yeah, so?” Stiles wondered casually, giving a nonchalant shrug. He tapped his fingers against his thigh as he commented, “I mean, the full moon is in a couple days, right? You’re bound to a struggle a little with control.”
“What?!” Derek squeaked, ignoring how embarrassingly high pitched his voice became as he whipped his head to the side to gawk at Stiles who just shrugged. Frantically, he tried to cover for himself, scoffing, “Full moon? What are you talking about, Stiles?”
“Uh, werewolves. Duh,” Stiles answered, looking at Derek like he was the one who was spouting off all sorts of stuff about werewolves and full moons. Stiles just rolled his eyes, pinning Derek with an unamused cock of his head, claiming, “Dude, I know you’re a werewolf. My dad’s the sheriff, remember? We’re on the up and up.”
Oh. That made a lot of sense, actually. His mother, as both the alpha and the mayor of Beacon Hills, made it a priority to establish connections with the humans in influential positions in town, making them aware of the existence of werewolves to ensure her pack’s safety and continued well-being. And as nosy and clever as Stiles was, he was bound to know if his father knew. Derek wasn’t sure how he could have missed something like that.
“So…” Stiles drawled, pursing his lips and glancing around the interior of the car. “About that kiss…”
Great. Stiles was going to make things weird. Well, weirder than Derek had already made it himself. He was going to explain that the kiss was just a one-time aberration. A pity kiss for the pathetic loser who had never kissed anyone before.
“I was wondering if maybe you’d wanna do it again?!”
Wait, what? Derek frowned at Stiles, trying to decipher if he was just toying with him. But he couldn’t hear nor scent any indication of deceit, blinking a few times in astonishment. Stiles actually wanted to kiss him again? Him? Derek? Derek Hale?
“I get it if you don’t want to,” Stiles murmured, rubbing his arm as he hunched his shoulders, huddling in on himself as he braced himself for rejection. He wouldn’t get any from Derek.
“You really do talk too much, sometimes,” Derek sighed, reaching out to grab Stiles by the front of his Star Wars t-shirt, tugging him into a deep kiss, despite the fact that he didn’t possess any ounce of finesse necessary to make it better than a clumsy little liplock. He laved his tongue over the small nick on Stiles’ bottom lip, experimentally sucking his entire lip into his mouth, feeling his eyes flash again.
But he was careful not to let his fangs drop this time. He would save the biting for later.
