Things We Never Saw Coming

Play the Game

Sunday, 2am

“Why’d you say it?”

Stiles looked up from polishing the counter at Derek, who was watching him intently with his pale blue eyes from the other side of the bar. “Say what?”

Derek’s thick eyebrows went down and he glared at Stiles. “You know what.”

Stiles shrugged, resuming his polishing of the countertop. “It was a joke,” he said innocently. “You’re the one who went along with it. You could’ve just called my bluff, and everyone would’ve parted with no hard feelings. Why did you play along?” He paused wiping down the countertop to look back up at Derek.

Derek looked uncomfortable, and Stiles added “talking about feelings” to the list of things that made Derek uncomfortable, right after sex and the word “kinky.” Derek shook his head. “We live in the same apartment building,” he said. “She’s been on my case for months. You presented me with the perfect opportunity to get her to let me be.”

“Interesting strategy for fighting off the ladies, but I’ll go for it,” Stiles said with a shrug. “But you could’ve at least bought me dinner first.”

Derek shook his head at Stiles with a look of incredulous amusement, his mouth hanging open slightly. “How does your brain even work?” he asked quietly, more to himself than to Stiles. “It’s ridiculous.”

 Stiles glanced over Derek’s shoulder. “Shit.” He snatched up a napkin from the counter, pulled a pen from his pocket, and scribbled his number on it. “Here,” he said, shoving the napkin at Derek. Derek looked confused for a moment, but Erica’s talons clutching onto his shoulder answered his question for him. He looked up at her, matching her glare without flinching. Stiles felt more than slightly aroused.

“You promised me a ride home,” Erica said, digging her nails into Derek’s shoulder.

Derek pushed her hand off his shoulder like it was a stray leaf. “Give me a minute,” he said, and Stiles was surprised by the severity of Derek’s voice. “I’m busy at the moment.”

Erica smirked at Stiles. “I can see that,” she said, her lips curling up in a sneer. She hoisted her purse higher on her shoulder. “Forget it, I’ll get a ride from Boyd,” she said.

“Have fun,” Derek said coolly as Erica stalked away.

“Use protection!” Stiles added, earning himself a death glare from Erica and an amused eyebrow twitch from Derek. He turned back to Derek and sighed. “You want a drink?”

Derek shrugged. “Sure.” He accepted the beer Stiles passed him and observed the bartender as he cleaned the remainder of the countertop. “What’re you studying for in college?”

Stiles glanced up from the counter. “What? Oh, history.” He paused for a moment before looking at Derek again. “So is this your fulltime job?”

Derek shook his head. “No, but this is the job that pays for the rent.”

“What’s your other job?”

Derek’s mouth twitched. “I’m a teacher.”

Stiles tilted his head sideways in surprise. “What do you teach exactly?”

“I teach Art.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Liar,” he accused, slumping against the counter and glaring at Derek. “That’s from X-Men.” He propped his head up on his hands. “What do you really teach?”

“I teach a self defense class,” Derek said, though Stiles honestly couldn’t tell if Derek was telling the truth or not. Either way, he wasn’t going to get a straight answer out of him.

“Do you have any family?”

Derek’s mouth twitched down into a frown. “No.” He took a long swig of beer and examined Stiles with critical blue eyes. “You?”

“My dad lives in town,” Stiles said, being careful to leave out the fact that his dad was Sheriff Stilinski. Somehow, being the son of the sheriff brought him more trouble than good. Stiles didn’t think Derek was someone who’d have a grudge against the cops, but you could never be too careful. “I have my own apartment, though.”

Derek’s offered him the slightest hint of a grin. “Good to know,” was all he said, and Stiles could hear the slightly mocking amusement in his voice.

Stiles nodded without really knowing why. After a moment of awkward silence, his phone buzzed. Pulling it from his pocket, he read the message Scott had sent him

         HURRY UP. –SCOTT

Stiles sighed. “I gotta’ go,” he said. “Scott’s not in a patient mood today apparently.”

Derek frowned. “Scott?”

“My roommate. He’s giving me a ride since my Jeep’s broken down.”

“Scott… McCall?”

Stiles paused with his coat half on. “…Yeah,” he said slowly. “You know him?”

Derek took a long swig of beer before responding with a curt “No.” But he refused to go out the front door with Stiles, saying that he’d rather use the back. Stiles left the club with a feeling of uneasiness that he couldn’t shake, even after he’d left the club. Derek’s eyes seemed to follow him all the way home.