All's Fair in Love and Pool

The bar was dimly lit, a smoky haze hovering near the ceiling, casting the corners in shadow. The clinks of glasses and the murmured conversations of patrons were the only background noise as Derek leaned over the pool table, one hand steadying his cue, the other aiming his next shot with laser focus.

Stiles watched him, eyes narrowing. "You think you're so good at this, don't you?" He leaned casually against his own cue, tapping it on the ground, looking more relaxed than he felt.

Derek glanced up, giving Stiles a smirk, one eyebrow quirking in that infuriatingly smug way of his. "Better than you, obviously."

Across the room, Erica, Boyd, and Jackson lounged at a high-top table, exchanging amused looks. Erica, perched on a bar stool with one leg crossed over the other, nudged Jackson with her elbow, grinning as she whispered, "This is gonna be good."

Stiles rolled his eyes at Derek's confidence. "We'll see about that," he muttered, swaggering up to the table to break. He leaned over the table, carefully lining up his shot, and was pleased to hear a few scattered clacks as balls dispersed across the table. But his satisfaction quickly faded when he saw he hadn't sunk a single one.

Derek chuckled, low and dark. "You're already at a disadvantage, Stiles."

Stiles scowled, crossing his arms. "Oh, you think just because you're all brooding and muscle-y that you're automatically better at this?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Derek replied, eyes glinting with amusement. He circled the table like a predator sizing up his prey, casually chalking the end of his cue.

Stiles felt the beginnings of a blush creeping up his neck but fought it down. He didn't lose. Especially not to Derek Hale. Not in pool, not in anything. And if distracting Derek a little was what it took to gain an edge... well, that was just good strategy.

He sidled up to Derek as he lined up his next shot, leaning a little too close, making sure his presence was impossible to ignore. "So, Derek," he said, voice soft, teasing. "You ever heard of personal space?"

Derek didn't move a muscle. "What are you doing, Stiles?"

"Just... observing," Stiles replied, his voice filled with feigned innocence. He leaned in just a bit closer, watching Derek's eyes flicker in his direction. "Is that distracting?"

Derek exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening as he lined up his shot, pulling the cue back... and missed by a hair. Stiles grinned, delighted.

Erica laughed out loud from her spot, giving Boyd a delighted smirk. "Told you he'd get under Derek's skin."

Boyd chuckled, glancing at Jackson, who rolled his eyes, muttering something about "amateur hour." But there was a glint of interest in Jackson's gaze as he watched the game unfold.

Stiles winked at his impromptu audience, knowing they were as invested as he was. "What was that, Derek?" he said, feigning shock. "Did you actually just miss?"

Derek straightened, giving Stiles a look that could melt steel. "One miss doesn't mean anything. Let's see you do better."

"Oh, I intend to," Stiles replied, a spark of challenge in his eyes. He moved around the table, looking over the layout of the balls, carefully lining up a shot. He took his time, bending over the table just a little more than necessary, knowing Derek's gaze was on him. "Don't let my obvious superior skill intimidate you," he teased, throwing Derek a smirk over his shoulder.

Derek rolled his eyes but didn't look away, watching as Stiles took his shot, miraculously sinking one of his balls. "Nice luck," Derek commented dryly.

"Oh, it's not luck, Derek. It's pure, unadulterated talent," Stiles declared, his grin widening as he leaned on his cue with a victorious gleam.

Derek shook his head, muttering, "You're infuriating."

"Compliments will get you nowhere," Stiles retorted, taking another shot, though this time he missed. He barely had time to step back before Derek smoothly reclaimed his position, setting up his shot with alarming precision.

Stiles tapped his fingers on the edge of the table, leaning in again as Derek took aim. "Y'know, your whole broody thing doesn't work on me," he said softly, voice carrying just enough to get Derek's attention. "I mean, yeah, sure, it's intimidating, but I've seen you smile, Derek. You've got a nice smile. Like, makes your eyes crinkle and everything."

Derek's focus faltered for a split second, and his shot went wide. He exhaled sharply, straightening and fixing Stiles with a glare. "Do you want to win this game, or just talk?"

"Who says I can't do both?" Stiles replied, practically glowing with amusement. "Maybe I'm just really good at multitasking."

Jackson snickered, and Erica leaned over, whispering to him, "He's got Derek wrapped around his finger and doesn't even know it."

Boyd nodded in agreement, unable to hide his own amusement. Derek, as controlled as he usually was, looked almost flustered.

With a huff, Derek took his next shot, sinking one of his balls without looking at Stiles, clearly trying to block him out. But Stiles, never one to take the hint, only leaned closer, tilting his head as he watched Derek intently. "You know, I really do like watching you play," he said, voice all soft and honeyed. "I mean, look at those arms. Must be all that werewolf strength, right?"

Derek gritted his teeth, clearly struggling to maintain his focus. "You know, if you're going to keep talking, you could at least talk about something useful."

"Aw, come on," Stiles teased. "Can't take a compliment?"

Derek's shot wobbled, and he glared at Stiles, who wore a look of pure innocence. Stiles grinned back, shrugging. "What? All's fair in love and pool, right?"

Derek let out a breath, clearly fighting a smirk as he took his last shot, missing by just a fraction. Stiles stepped up to the table, grinning wider than ever, and, with exaggerated focus, took his next shot, sinking his final ball with a triumphant cheer.

Derek shook his head, exasperated but amused. "You cheated."

"Did not," Stiles said, pretending to be scandalized. "I just know how to play the game."

Erica, Boyd, and Jackson burst into applause, Jackson yelling, "Nice work, Stilinski!" with a grin.

Stiles turned to Derek, leaning in close, eyes glinting. "Guess that makes me the winner, huh?"

Derek held his gaze, a small smirk finally breaking through. "This time," he said, voice low. "But next time, no distractions."

Stiles smirked; eyes bright. "Oh, Derek, where's the fun in that?"