Sterek One Shots

Not a Love Story

It's been a while, and I finally found inspiration to finish one of many unfinished one-shots. I didn't really know how to end this one but I hope you enjoy :)

"Look, just tell mom I can't make it!...No, Cora, I can't reschedule because then I would lose literally the only publisher who would pick up my stories!...You know why...Seriously, just this one favor, please. Mom will guilt trip me and you know it. Then what? I have to move home all because I felt obligated to attend a family get-together?...Thank you, and I know. I plan to avoid all of her calls until after the meeting...Yeah, you too. Bye."

Stiles scratches his head, eyes wandering the cramped coffee shop for literally anywhere else to sit. If he had the option to go back to his tiny apartment and type his college paper, he would. Unfortunately, he can't afford to pay his internet and cable bill.

"Uh, sorry..this seems like a bad time, but do you mind if I sit?" Stiles asks wearily, his face already scrunched in preparation for rejection. Derek huffs, fingers freezing where they are above his keyboard. "Can't you find—" his gaze pulls up to meet a boy with enticing caramel eyes, dark brown hair covered by a brick red beanie, pale skin dotted with moles, and nervous fingers twitching under his gaze, holding his laptop case close to his body. "You know what? I can just—" he glances around again, and every seat is still occupied. "Sit," Derek states, "I-I mean, yes, you can sit." He gestures to the chair across from him.

"Thanks," Stiles smiles, though it looks more like someone is forcing him to. Derek completely loses focus. He has four chapters for his book due to his publisher in a week, yet he finds his eyes and mind drawn to the college student across from him, fumbling to untangle his laptop cord and set up his space on the small round surface.

Derek swallows, his stare bouncing between his screen and the other male. "I'm Derek," he introduces himself, eager to learn the other boys name. His eyes slowly peer over his own laptop. "Stiles," he replies. "Stiles?" Derek immediately echos, intrigued to say the least. "Yeah, it's just what people call me. I can hardly pronounce my own first name and Stiles is a family name, so...yeah, Stiles," he shrugs, carefully scanning Derek's body language. He doesn't seem annoyed, at least not to the extent he was earlier on the phone.

They fall silent again, but Stiles can feel Derek burning a hole into the side of his head. Unable to ignore it, he looks back up. "Not to sound like an eavesdropper, but I heard you say something about a publisher, are you a writer?" Stiles inquires, half closing his laptop so he has a better view of the male across from him. "I don't know if I deserve the title of 'writer'," Derek chuckles, briefly glancing down at his blank screen, "Because I don't get much writing done."

"Well in a loud place like this, how could you?" Stiles nods to the crowd of people around them, all chattering with friends in person or over the phone. "It's usually not like this," Derek sighs. "I've only been in here a couple of times," Stiles explains, "But I heard that there's some sort of convention going on down the street, which is probably why it's so packed right now."

"I come here when I have writers block. For some reason, this place has always brought me inspiration. Right now I can't even think of one sentence." Derek bites his lip in frustration, recalling his first two books mentally. If he's being honest with himself, Derek doesn't know how he even managed to finish one book. He shakes his head, needing a change in conversation. "Anyway, what brings you here?"

"Well, don't laugh at me, but it's the nearest place with free WiFi. I have a ten-thousand word, fictional story due for my English class, and I haven't even figured out my main characters name," Stiles grimaces at himself, but if anyone knows what he's going through, it's a struggling writer. "Since we're in the same boat, why don't we bounce ideas off each other?" Stiles suggests, eyebrows raising in excitement. "That'd honestly be great," Derek smiles. Stiles scrambles with his notebook, tearing out a spare piece for Derek to jot some things down if he needs to.