On His Knees

Chapter Three

"What is your last name?" Stiles asked the next morning, as soon as Derek woke up.
"What?" Derek muttered, clearly not a morning person.
"Your last name. I don't know it,"
"How long have you been awake?"
"I don't know, I was looking at your eyelashes! Last name!"
"I don't have eyelashes!"
"All human beings have eyelashes, dipshit! Now tell me your last name!"
"Hale," Derek sighed exasperatedly, flopping onto his back. "Derek Hale,
"Stiles Stilinski. Was that so hard?"
"Guess not," Derek paused. "What's your boyfriend's last name?"
"Danny? Danny Mahelani. He used to be really nice. Til we started dating, and then he went all possessive. I think it's cos his dad told him to get the fuck out, but it could be cos hes a dick. I don't read much into these things,"
"Why do you stay with him? He's a loser,"
"I'm a stripper," Stiles pointed out. "And I can't move out because I have nowhere to go. I have to pay for college, you know, and the club doesn't exactly pay out as much as you think,"
"You could live here," Derek suggested offhandedly. Stiles sat up and looked over at him funny.
"Really?"
"Why not?"
"You don't know me! I could be a serial killer! Or I could have herpe- actually, I don't know that I don't have herpes, that one isn't funny. Still, i'm like- A stripper! You don't just move strippers into your house, unless you're having a bachelorette party, in which case i'll need a firefighter costume,"
"I doubt you're a murderer. Or that you have herpes, not that that has much impact on me seeing as I don't plan on catching it from you. And I can move strippers into my apartment if I want to,"
"Fine,"
"Fine what?"
"Fine i'll move in with you, dumbass, what else would be fine?"
"My-" Derek started.
"If you say 'My ass' I swear I will kick you in it," Stiles warned.
"...Nevermind,"
Stiles threw himself into an awkward hug with Derek's torso.
"Yay! I get to live with Derbear!"
"I'll have to sneak into his house and get your stuff,"
"How're you gonna do that?"
Derek eyed his phone and sighed.
"I know a guy. Unfortunately,"
"Why unfortunately?"
'He's kinda a psychotic idiotic,"
"Sounds fun,"
"That's what his fiánce said right before they got married,"

Turns out Peter was on a honeymoon and couldn't break into a California apartment, but he knew someone who could. Which is how Stiles and Derek ended up waiting for 'a girl in a fedora with pink shoes' at the bus station.
"This isn't some top secret mission," Derek muttered to himself after the second bus came and went without a fedora wearing girl stepping off it.
"There!" Stiles whisper-screamed, pointing at a big tree to their left. Sure enough, a girl in big sunglasses, a fedora, a trench coat and pink heels was sitting on a low branch. "She looks pretty cool,"
"She looks like my Uncle's type of crazy," Derek sighed. "Lets go,"
They walked over and she eyeballed them carefully.
"You Pete's friends?" She asked suspiciously.
"Yes. Are you on the lam or something?" Derek asked.
"I broke out a friend out of a hospital. Coppers are huntin' me," she said casually, removing her glasses.
"Hey, wait a minute! You're in my psychology class!" Stiles exclaimed. "Lydia, right?"
"Lydia always right, actually," she smirked. "Peter says you need a break in,"
"His boyfriend," Derek rolled his eyes.
"Ex boyfriend, actually," Stiles corrected.
"Fun! I love dramatic spy shit!"

Turns out, all she needed was an address and 10 minutes to get them in.
It took Stiles 10 minutes to grab his stuff, write Danny a note saying pretty much 'fuck you, you abusive asshole, i've moved in with a hot older man'. They left, easy peasy. Lydia refused to leave them alone, though, claiming she had 'no life' and that they 'would be lost in this world without her sage guidance' (which was total horseshit, but she was funny so they let it slide). They ended up watching Sex In The City, which Derek didn't get at all.
"Why. Why do you hate me." Derek sighed at the ceiling. Stiles slapped a hand over his mouth.
"CARRIE IS TRYING TO TALK," he hissed. Lydia nodded, neither taking their eyes off the television.
When it was over, they were both asleep on him and he was starting to reconsider his status as a filing cabinet type of guy.