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"Derek, I need new clothes," Stiles said from where he was sprawled out on his back on Derek's bed. Derek didn't even lower his comic book.
"Okay."
"I need a new skinny jeans and two more plaids. Oh, and there's this new shop with all these awesome fan articles and I need to go there," Stiles continued, setting his book aside and lowering his head so that he could look at Derek upside down. Everything looked blurry and weird and, well, upside down. It was a weird feeling and he tried to convince himself that the fluttering sensation he got in his stomach was coming from his lying position and not the cute little frown Derek had just put on his face.
"That is very interesting, Stiles," Derek replied, his tone indicating that the exact opposite was the case, "but what exactly does that have to do with me?"
"Isn't it obvious? You're coming with me, big guy!" Stiles said, getting up and walking over to Derek's chair. He took his comic book from him and set it on the table.
"Now," Stiles said and tried to pull Derek up. No such luck.
"No. I'm not going shopping with you. I have important things to do!"
"Yes? Like what?" Stiles teased, "reading this comic for the 10th time? Come on, I'll even buy you a new one if you're coming," Stiles said. Not begged. Begging is not a thing Stiles does. He's above that. "Please?" Oh dammit. Technically, that hadn't been begging, right? He hadn't said 'I beg you' or anything like that and that meant he didn't beg. Smooth, Stiles, very smooth.
Derek was just staring at him, clenching his jaw, obviously contemplating going with Stiles and getting a new comic.
"Okay, I'll do it. But not for longer than 1 hour. And you will not choose anything for me. I don't need any new clothes," Derek said, trying very hard to convince himself that no, he hadn't backed down, he was still in control, after all he had put up some rules. He was doing a terrible job making himself believe that.
***
"Come on, this red is totally awesome and not too bright so it doesn't even destroy your whole serial killer look. And it has thumbholes! Come on. Please?" Stiles really had to keep the begging in check. It was getting out of hand. Derek was about to say no to this one like he already had to the last 15. But then he saw the hopeful look in Stiles eyes and he just couldn't destroy it by saying no.
"Okay, I'll do it. But only this one. I'm serious, don't try to force something else on me or I won't even consider giving this a shot," Derek said, trying not to feel so bad about giving in. It wasn't that hard when he saw the joy in Stiles' eyes and heard him say,"yes, man! Awesome!"And Stiles might reconsider the whole not begging thing.
***
"It's cool if we share a changing room, right? We've seen each other half-naked often enough, after all we both live in the same dorm. So that's okay, right? It's not like I'm gonna oggle your ass or anything," Stiles scoffed, making it sound like that was the most ridiculous thing ever (it wasn't, and he was totally going to look at Derek's ass and maybe his bare torso as well. Maybe.) "Whatever," Derek replied, blushing. He was definitely not thinking about ass-oggling or, you know, oggling Stiles’ ass . Nope, not happening. (Does actually looking while they're going to the changing rooms count? He's not thinking of it! And anyways, who could resist looking at Stiles' ass? Derek certainly not.)
***
Stiles was bending over, trying (and kinda failing, if the grunts and the part where he was almost falling over were anything to go by) to free his long legs of his jeans. That gave Derek the perfect opportunity to check out Stiles' ass. And damn, those red boxer briefs really left nothing to imagination. Derek was thinking too much about Stiles' butt to notice how Stiles looked in the mirror and caught Derek intently staring at his ass.
"So you're actually the one who likes to oggle, huh? Enjoying the view so far? On a scale of 1 to 10, how do you rate it?" Stiles was teasing but there was a seriousness in his eyes, like he really wanted to know what Derek thought and wasn't only talking about butts anymore.
"I... I need to get out of here," Derek muttered, his face deep red (even his ears were starting to turn red, it was adorable,) storming out of the changing room, not even closing the door after him.
"What the fuck are you looking at?" Stiles hissed at two teenagers who were giving him funny looks. He slammed the door and couldn't help laughing bitterly. The past months Stiles had been hoping for a clear sign that he wasn't completely imagining the lingering looks and adorable smiles indicating he wasn't the only one with a huge crush. And now, after giving him the sign he had waited for, Derek had just run away, leaving Stiles alone. Very grown up, really. But Stiles hadn't come here just because of Derek, he really did need those clothes. After trying on some of the jeans and plaids he was just about to put on his old jeans again when he saw that there were grey dust stains all over them.
"Huh, staring at my ass all the time but not even bothering to tell me that my jeans are dirty. Well, thanks," Stiles murmured to himself, brushing off the dirt. He packed his stuff, paid and left.
***
Two hours later Stiles was standing in front of Derek's door, the red sweater in one and the newest spider-man comic in the other hand. He knocked and, after hearing a grumpy "Come in," entered the room. Derek was lying on his bed, arms raised above his head, looking like he was just relaxing. But his jaw was tense and it seemed to take him a lot of effort to force out a
"What do you want, Stiles?" The aggressive tone didn't surprise Stiles, he'd known Derek for long enough to at least predict how he'd react.
"First of all, here's your comic, I did promise you one. Thanks for coming with me, man," Stiles said with a steady voice, handing Derek the comic.
"Just put it on the table," he replied, not bothering to get up.
"Okay man, whatever you want. So, next thing, your sweater. I bought it for you because it looked awesome on you and, to be honest, really hot. Which brings me to the last thing," Stiles said, taking a deep breath. Derek had started sitting up and was now leaning on his elbows with a curious look on his face. "Do you want to go on a date with me? Maybe coffee? Because let me tell you, after paying for your comic and the sweater I can't afford dinner, sorry. And I don’t want to make you pay if I’m the one asking you out. So coffee it is, I guess, unless you don’t want to go on a date with me at all, which wouldn’t be a problem and I’d try not to make things awkward and just get over my huge crush on you, I’d just like to know before I make a fool of myself, like I'm doing right now, shit," Stiles rambled, starting to talk himself into hell and back. He was unconsciously fidgeting with the thumbholes of the sweater, his gaze fixed on Derek's face. The man in question stood up from the bed and crossed the distance between them until they were only standing about one and a half feet apart.
"Actually, it would be my pleasure to invite you to dinner, Stiles," he said softly, smiling at Stiles and holding his hand out. "It's getting late and you're probably hungry. Let's go, I know a great place and they make the best curly fries I’ve ever tried," he continued, an expectant look on his face.
"I can't say no to that, can I? You just know how to get a guy," Stiles replied, a grin splitting his face.
“Just the one,” Derek replied, looking intently at Stiles. Stiles threw the sweater on the bed, took Derek's hand and started walking out of the room. While going through the door Derek let go of Stiles and gave him a playful swat on the ass, making the other man yelp.
“Hey, I don’t put out before the first date. And no, not after it, either. You gotta earn the D,” Stiles said.
"Well, you asked me to grade your ass. I gotta feel it before being able to give a correct answer, right? It's a solid 11, by the way," Derek said smirking and grabbed Stiles’ hand, intertwining their fingers.