Never Trust A Fox

Crushes

"Stiles!"

Stiles's head peeked up as he was walking into the school doors, and he turned around to find the source of this unfamiliar voice.
Only to be greeted by a very familiar face.
"Derek?"

The usually dark, brooding scowl of Derek Hale had been replaced by a wide, unnatural smile.
In all the times he'd known Derek, he'd only ever seen a mild smile, which was only used for sarcastic purposes anyways
"Derek, are you ok?"

"I'm great, Stiles! How about you?"

"I'm-"
But before he could respond, Derek walked briskly into the school hall, dragging Stiles by the arm.
"Derek? Derek, what is up with you day?"

"Nothing!"
Derek leant one shoulder against the locker next to Stiles's, trying to look nonchalant.

"Are you sure? You seem a little..."
He pondered what word to use as he retrieved his books from his locker.
'Happy' would be the most suiting, but Stiles had a feeling he wouldn't take that well.

"I was just wondering why you didn't show up to the pack meet yesterday?"

Stiles froze, and he knew his heartbeat had rose.
"Because... you didn't invite me?"

Derek had a look of shock on his face.
"What?! No! You're one of the most important people in the pack!"

Stiles raised his eyebrow at how loud and squeaky Derek's voice went.
"Seriously, Derek. Lower the pitch. Soon only dogs will hear you!"
Stiles chuckled at his own pun.

Derek coughed, his voice back to normal.
"Seriously, though, Stiles. You're possibly my favourite member of the pack."
He told himself he had said this to get back on Stiles's good side.

Stiles tried to keep his composure, but he could feel his cheeks heat up.
He had no control over the amount of blushing he was doing, and willed himself to calm down in his mind.
Due to both the shyness he felt from just being dubbed as Derek's favourite, and the embarrassment of how he currently looked, his heartbeat sped way up.

Derek looked mildly curious when he saw how bashful Stiles had suddenly became.
"Stiles? Are you okay?"
He put his hand lightly on Stiles's shoulder, only to be swatted away.

"I'm c-cool! Just- just nervous for my, um, test! Yeah, test. Anyways, g-gotta go!"
He rushed off, tripping over his own feet a few times, then tried to pull open a door for a minute or two, before realising that it was push door.
Derek could immediately tell that Stiles was lying about a test, and swore that he could hear Stiles cursing himself as he ran off.

Derek shouted after him,
"So, see you at 4?"

———•———•———•———•———•

Stiles sat at his desk, tapping the pen that was positioned between his thumb and index finger consistently on the desk.
He was staring into to space, daydreaming. He was thinking about Derek, and about the compliments that he had awarded Stiles. Stiles was the type to develop crushes easily, and recently, that seemed to have become the case for Derek.
But, who wouldn't like Derek?

Who wouldn't adore Derek's raven black hair? It fell into place so perfectly yet still had a rugged, messy aura to it.
Who wouldn't admire Derek's amazing face shape? His perfectly shaped nose, framed by his closely shaven chiseled chin, set off by his sculptured, intriguing lips?
Who wouldn't long for his lustful body, to roam his utopian chest and his embedded, constantly sweaty six pack with their hands? To feel his bulging biceps at will, and trace the tattoo on his back with their finger tips?
Who wouldn't fall for his cloudy, indulging green eyes? The eyes that could stop all conversations, that could drain all sarcastic words from your mouth. Eyes that could see right into your soul, and suck you right in. To capture you in a whirlpool of lust and beauty and keep you entranced, tossing and turning inside for all eternity?
God, Stiles had problems.

He had accepted the fact that Derek didn't feel the same way, but was now overjoyed at the prospect that, however slight the chance, he might. He just might.

Stiles's train of thought was cut off as someone pinched his arm.
"OwwWow!"
Stiles turned to his best friend, whom was seated next to him.
"What was that for?!"

Scott grimaced, wincing.
"Stop tapping your pen! Wolf hearing, remember? I swear, it's driving me to the point of homicide."

The teacher shushed them.

"Oh, and also-"
Scott continued in a whisper,
"Close your mouth, you're drooling."

Scott smirked as his best friend closed his mouth, scowled and dropped his pen on his desk, then continued to pout throughout he entire lesson.

———•———•———•———•———•

Stiles exited his maths class, this one of which he didn't share with Scott, and set off in search of him.

After checking the lunch hall, twice, he made for the boys changing room, since that seemed the most likely place he'd be.
Stiles opened the door unnaturally quietly, and he wasn't really sure why.
He was about to call Scott's name, until-
"So, you talked to him?"

A voice sighed.
"Yes, I talked to him. Why's it so important to you?"

The first voice then groaned, growled even, aggressively.
"Because, Derek, you make him feel like he isn't part of the pack!"

Derek, apparently, then said,
"Well, I didn't mean not to invite him. He's just easy to forget- wait. What's that?"