Sterek One Shots

Huge Amount of Pick-Up Lines

There's the slam of their shared dorm door, a stomping of footsteps. Derek calmly continues in his note making, pretends he hasn't stayed up past one just to welcome Stiles home from his night out.

"Are you a magician, because when I look at you everyone else just disappears."

Derek's pen drops from his mouth, his heart, stupidly, begins to race, and he jerks his head up to stare at Stiles.

Stiles waves a hand at him, bodily rolls his eyes as he tosses his wallet on the desk, "See! It works on you! You're surprised; you're looking at me; you now know I exist!"

Derek swallows, reigns in his momentary and obviously ridiculous excitement.

"What," he manages flatly.

"That was the best pick up line I have, and she acted like she hadn't even heard it!"

Stiles twists to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, his favorite going out shirt- the one he claims to "never fail him"- showers glitter across the floor as he throws himself around. His movements are always so big, so vibrant, like a bright, beautiful firework Derek can't tear his gaze away from.

He's never gotten used to the hugs, the fist bumps that at first had him rolling his eyes, the sleepy shoulder nudges in the bathroom. He's not a touchy-feely person, thought living with Stiles would be hell on earth, but instead, now, he craves those touches, lives for the way Stiles fills up his otherwise dull world with his bright smiles and wild antics.

It's no surprise to Derek that Stiles went out looking for someone fun, someone exciting, someone that matches his enthusiasm and joi de vivre more than Derek ever could. Stiles likes parties; Derek likes staying in. Stiles likes talking- about life, movies, why he thinks The Office got it right about Hillary Swank- until three in the morning; Derek knows how to hum, silently agree, gets awkward when the conversation focuses on him.

He doesn't fit into Stiles' exuberant life style. But, it still hurts. He tries. He wants to be a good room mate, and he likes listening to Stiles, imagining a world where he's better at being brave.

"I don't-" he shrugs, "Maybe the music was too loud?"

Stiles scrunches up his nose, comes to sit beside Derek and drags his chair up close, leans his head on the table and stares up at him.

"She was right next to me," he moans pitifully.

I'm right next to you, Derek thinks, resists the urge to run a hand through Stiles' hair.

"You're getting glitter on my notes," he says finally.

Stiles peeks down at said notes, grins suddenly, "I can't believe you're doing work on a saturday night. You're such a nerd."

"You're one to talk," Derek scoffs back, "You tried a pick up line from the eighties on a woman that's probably been warned away from guys like you since she was ten."