The bet that broke us

The Bet

Sorry guy's/girl's but I forgot the publish the first part. I'm very sorry. 

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The Hale loft was unusually crowded.

A hunt had gone well for once, meaning no one was bleeding, no one was possessed, and no one was currently being chased by something with too many teeth.

Pizza boxes covered the coffee table.

Scott and Stiles were arguing over whether pineapple belonged on pizza.

"It absolutely does not," Stiles declared, pointing dramatically with a slice. "Pineapple is a fruit. Pizza is not fruit."

"It's good," Scott argued.

"It is a crime."

Across the room, Derek sat in his usual chair, pretending not to listen while reading through a bestiary.

Pretending.

Because despite himself, his attention kept drifting toward Stiles.

Not because he liked him.

Because the kid never stopped talking.

"...and another thing—"

"There it is," Erica interrupted with a grin. "Stiles is on another rant."

"He hasn't breathed in three minutes," Isaac laughed.

"He'll pass out eventually."

"I can still hear you!" Stiles called.

"That was the idea," Boyd answered.

Everyone laughed.

Everyone except Derek.

He simply turned another page.

Peter, who had been watching everything with amusement, smirked.

"You know..."

The room quieted.

"I've noticed something."

Nobody paid much attention.

Peter continued anyway.

"Derek hasn't told Stilinski to shut up all evening."

Stiles gasped dramatically.

"Oh my God."

Scott snorted.

"It's true."

Isaac looked between them before grinning.

"Wait..."

He pointed at Derek.

"You're getting used to him."

"I'm tolerating him," Derek corrected without looking up.

"Oh, that's even worse."

"What?"

"It means you're attached."

"I'm not."

Erica leaned forward.

"I don't know..."

"You looked at him when he laughed."

"I looked because he was loud."

"He always is."

Derek sighed.

"Exactly."

Peter chuckled.

"I think our dear Alpha has developed a soft spot."

Derek finally looked up.

"I haven't."