Stiles' father, like every other person, believes that repetition, that routine is key in getting a handle on ones disorder so, naturally, since he was seven Stiles has had a pretty solid routine going. Of course it has changed over the years, modifications to accommodate his car and his dads ever-fluctuating schedule.

One of the changes that Stiles sees this week is his fathers day off work; what is usually a Saturday has turned into a Sunday, and while that didn't seem to be a big plan changer (Scott's new penchant for Allison makes sure he has plenty of free nights now) but it does mean that his monthly wash and wax of his car, Padfoot, gets to be bumped up a day.

So here he is, up and outside at ten in the morning on a Saturday, his jeep finally dry from it's wash and a bucket of wax ready to go. Stiles kicks on the radio and lets the music start so he doesn't have to listen to the silence of his street.

It's not until he gets his hands wet and starts on the hood of his car that the song changes to the ever infamous Call me Maybe and Stiles is suddenly glad that he's the only person outside at this time. That is until he looks up and sees Derek Hale, the town's new mechanic outside, leaning into the cavity that holds his car's engine.

It wouldn't have been so bad, had Derek moved in a couple of houses down Stiles may have been saved some embarrassment but he didn't, he had moved in right next door which means that on top of the uncomfortable crush Stiles has been nursing for months he now has to deal with the fact that Derek can hear him listening to an overplayed guilty pleasure while he's covered in a wet shirt with a picture of a muffin on it. Honestly the only time he ever wears this shirt is on car wash day because the fact that it calls him a Stud Muffin while he does it is probably one of the most ridiculous thing he has ever even conceived.

Derek and he, however, have barely spoken two words to each other and Stiles, fueled by embarrassment stoked adrenaline. He props up his knee on the hood, waxing close to the windshield and looking pointedly at Derek.

Nothing.

He flashes a grin as he turns himself around so that he's sitting on Padfoot's roof and propping up his leg.

Derek looks.

Awesome.

He rolls over onto his stomach kicking a leg up because, while it makes him feel ridiculous, Stiles also has it in good confidence that it accents good things on his body.

Stiles, for all his curious wisdom, realizes belatedly that wax, when used, makes surfaces slippery and Stiles, with all of his weight on a freshly waxed surface gravity does the rest and the smile slides off Stiles' face while his body slides off the car.

The song is still playing and the utter embarrassment of the entire situation is finally catching up to Stiles as he lays on his back, shirt damp from the earlier wash and feeling kind of grimy just from being on the ground. At least Derek couldn't see him anymore.

Then it hit him, really hit him. A laugh forced itself out of Stiles' mouth and after that he couldn't stop. Stiles rolled onto his side and just kept laughing. The situation, the heat, the song, the scenario, and nothing at all kept Stiles laughing on the hard concrete until he opened his eyes, trying to breath normally and finding himself face to rubber with a pair of shoes.

"Need some help?"

Stiles' life has officially taken a turn for the worse. "With imputing my phone number into your phone or pretending I took too much Aderall this morning?"

Honestly Stiles has never been one to keep things bottled up, rather get it out in a witty manner than never say it, that's his motto. Well at least it is now.

"I was going to go with helping you up."

Stiles laughs. "That works too." Because he's nothing if not compromising.

Derek's hand is warm around his as he is pulled to his feet and Stiles knows that he'll feel the imprint like a burn for hours after this encounter. Maybe he'll even become crazy and not wash his hand ever again.

Derek's eyes seem to glaze over Stiles, assessing and checking to make sure nothing was dislocated or seriously damaged and when it looks like everything's fine he turns and starts back towards his house and his car. And most importantly; away from Stiles.

"Hey!" Stiles calls out because he can't bare to keep it shut, not when something like Derek Hale is walking away after Stiles has done nothing but want for him. Derek turns back, indulgently. "After all this don't you want my number? To, you know, call me, maybe?"

Really, Stiles should learn to keep his mouth shut.

Derek just quirks an eyebrow and Stiles is almost positive that they have a language all their own, that those eyebrows change the meaning of everyday words when they come from Derek's mouth. "Why?"

And, wow, if Stile's felt like an idiot before there is not a word for how stupid he feels now. He opens and closes his mouth, trying to find the words to say that he wants to date Derek but only if that wont stop the older man from fixing his car and moving half way across the continent but as it turns out the question was rhetorical and Derek just plows forward like he never paused and Stiles never opened his mouth. "I know where you live, I can just call on you."

He says it like it's simple, like the first part of that sentence isn't said by every psychotic pedophile out there, and like most people use the term 'call on you' still when they mean show up sporadically at your house to hang out, or whatever it is people did back in the day. Eventually Stiles is able to nod in response, but Derek had already turned away and, his nose shoved into the hood of his car.

And if that didn't shout stalker and rapist at the same time, he didn't know what did. That didn't mean he couldn't be happy about it though.

Stiles stays on his weekend high until Wednesday and even Scott starts questioning his behaviour. Stiles doesn't tell anyone anything because not only has nothing actually happened yet, but Scott has an Allison-tracked mind and wouldn't remember long enough to matter.

It's Friday night, long after school has ended and well into the night when there's a rapping at the window. Stiles doesn't think too much of it, having snuck up to Scott's window many times before in their friendship and having his friend do the same. The only surprise that Stiles finds in this situation was that when he went to go open his window it wasn't Scott crouched on the other side but Derek.

He slides the window up.

"Told you I knew where you lived."

"Knew you sounded like a stalker and a rapist."

Stiles leans on the windowsill to keep Derek on the other side, he's desperate, not entirely stupid.

"Is this a bad time?"

"For?"

"A date."

Though it seemed to Stiles that, much like he though, Derek wasn't asking a question because when Stiles slid away from the window to turn off his light and shut down his computer Derek waited outside until Stiles was on the roof next to him.

"So, where to, Edward? Oh pale love of mine?"

"You make another Twilight reference and I'm shoving you off this roof."

But Derek was smiling, and, really, they got together over Carly Rae Jepsen so Stiles figures that if there relationship exists jokes are tolerated, if not encouraged. Besides, no one had to know.

Based off of

n3vh33r4 . tumblr post/27777331937

post I found on Tumblr.