His breathing is so loud it drowns out the thump of bass from the floor below.
Stiles can’t— It’s been fucking months. Months of So, Derek… we’re in the same lab group, huh? And: hey, if you’re interested, I’ve got a bunch of resources on Schwartz’ field work I could go over with you, in my dorm room, where my roommate is definitely out of state for the weekend. Not to mention: soooo Derek I was thinking, uh I don’t really fully understand what Professor Fallon was getting at in the last seminar, think you could shed some light on it for me? Over coffee?
Derek Hale is the most brain-stewingly hot science nerd Stiles has laid eyes on in his entire nineteen years of existence. And he’s met a lot. A lot. Even Jenna Montgomery from space camp in eighth grade, who was the owner of the first boob Stiles ever touched has been eclipsed by Derek No You Can’t Try On My Glasses Hale. Derek I Stroke My Stubble When I’m Doing Complicated Calculations Hale disagrees with Stiles on pretty much every theoretical debate opened to the floor, develops a stutter when he’s astounded by someone’s perceived stupidity and remembers your pizza topping combination despite hearing it only once when ordering in for group study sessions. Stiles didn’t stand a chance.
Derek is also the most oblivious.
Did he mention months? Stiles has never been commended on his subtlety. His dad joked once that there would never come a time when he’d get the wrong birthday gift, since he all but published a coupon in the local paper for whatever it was. So Stiles knew it wasn’t something lacking on his end. However, Derek I Must Not Have Been This Hot In High School Hale had innocently rebuked every single one of Stiles’ come-ons with replies like yes I know I was there when they called out our group members and I have the internet and library access too, Stiles and Lydia said I could read her notes -you can have them after I guess.
So. Stiles had resorted to doing things the old fashioned way: keg party and Usher.
Hey, it worked.