The first time it happened, Derek had just finished his daily work out. He had lowered his workout music and was about to hit the showers when his phone rang. He looked at the screen and was surprised to see Stiles's name.

"What's wrong?" Derek asked with distain because of course Beacon Hills couldn't give it a rest.

"You're such a sourwolf. You always assume the worst, Der-bear," Stiles said as he giggled into the phone.

Derek froze in place.

"What did you just call me?" He asked with flared nostrils.

The phone line went dead. Derek looked at his phone in surprise and shook his head. Well there goes another minute he'll never get back.

The second time it happened, Derek was in the grocery store buying lunchables for the pack (because he cares and they've got a thing for ham and cheese). He had just added a helping of celery to his basket when his cellphone went off. Wondering what the hell would be happening in Beacon Hills this late on a Sunday, he gruffly took out his phone and saw that once again, it was Stiles.

"What?" Derek asked impatiently as he balanced the basket and phone.

"How did Pearl become a whale and not a crab?" Stiles asked breathlessly into the phone.

Derek narrowed his eye, which landed on the pizza rolls Scott adored. He picked them up and added them to the basket.

"Stiles, did-did you just ask me a question about that show with the annoying sponge?" Derek asked through gritted teeth, his mind vaguely recalling Isaac watching the show in the living room and laughing to himself.

"Derry, it's called spoongeboob," Stiles said, laughing hysterically before he hung up.

Derek scoffed in disbelief and put the phone back in his pocket as he simultaneously grabbed the ice cream Erica and Boyd loved.

The calls kept coming, always weird and always at odd hours but Derek always picked up. Sometimes he'd see Stiles around town or at pack meetings yet he never talked directly at him. Truth be told, he felt awkward around Stiles yet he wasn't the one who called him at weird hours. Derek actually felt more comfortable over the phone with Stiles than in person and that made him feel like there was something wrong with him. Even though the phone calls were always just stupid questions, in a weird sense, they made Derek feel like he got to know Stiles better. And yeah, maybe it was nice to actually see Stiles and his stupid face but talking to him face-to-face was a completely different matter. At pack meetings, Stiles never acted unusual, never even once addressed the phone calls and Derek was okay with that.

"Do you think vegetables have their own secret language and they talk to each other when they're in the ground?"

"Stiles, no. That's not a thing."

"Everyone says that Bees are becoming extinct. I think they're just in hiding. Do you think Bees are going to take over the world?"

"No, Stiles. It'll be the Aliens that get us before it's the Bees."

"Why can't I get Patrick Stump to write my essays for me?"

"Stiles, I don't even know who that is."

On and on the questions came, always weird and always strange. Then one day, the calls stopped. Stiles usually always called a couple of times a week but no call came that particular week. Derek was of course worried. He waited until the Sheriff was fast asleep before he climbed up the tree near Stiles's bedroom window and slipped in.

Stiles was awake just like Derek had predicted he would be. He was reading the Great Gatsby but in reality, he had been on the same page for the past ten minutes. Every now and then, he'd pick up his cell phone, look at it meaningfully and then put it back down. Derek saw him do this five times. Derek sniffed the air, smelling the familiar scent that he associated with Stiles and another scent that he had never smelled before. It was an herb of some kind and the scent tickled his sense. It made him want to-

Stiles fell out of his chair in alarm.

"Bless you but oh my fucking god, Derek, what the hell are you doing here?!" Stiles asked, face flushed in embarrassment as he clutched his chest wiling his heart to slow down.

Derek himself was embarrassed at being caught (in such a manner) but he was always better at hiding his embarrassment than most people.

"Why'd you stop calling?" Derek asked, eager to know the answer and eager to steer the conversation away from his blunder.

Immediately Stiles turned scarlet and couldn't meet Derek's eyes.

"That's-that's why you're here?" Stiles asked in a tiny voice.

"Why else would I be here?" Derek asked impatiently as he crossed over and sat at the edge of Stiles's bed.

Stiles took a deep breath and got up from the floor. He started to pace, putting space between Derek and himself. It irritated Derek, especially since he didn't understand why Stiles reeked of embarrassment. Finally Stiles stopped nervously pacing and turned to face Derek.

"So I've been experimentingwithdrugslately," Stiles said in a rushed voice.

Derek looked at him in surprise.

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" Derek asked with a raised eyebrow.

This question snapped Stiles out of whatever anxiety he was feeling because he looked at Derek would narrowed eyes and said "You better not be gearing up to give me the 'you're ruining your life' speech because Werewolf strength or not, I'll kick your ass."

Derek clenched his jaw and said "No dumb ass, it's just your dad is the Sheriff. Isn't it part of his job to be able to spot drug use?"

Stiles scoffed and said "Puh-lease, as if I'd don't know how to cover my tracks and as if I'd do it while he's here. God Derek, it's like you've never done it before."

Derek said nothing and that freaked Stiles out.

"Oh my god, you've never gotten high before?!" Stiles squawked.

"Aren't you scared your dad's gonna hear us?" Derek asked, smoothly trying to change the topic.

"Oh relax, he's a heavy sleeper. Don't try to change the subject, but oh my god, you've really never done it before? That's so cute; you're like a new born lamb."

Derek rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Stiles, you never answered my question," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Stiles's demeanor changed dramatically and he winced as he said "Su um, I pretty much always call you when I'm high."

"Yeah, I got that. I wanna know why you'd only call me when you're high?"

Stiles sighed in defeat as he sat in his desk chair and faced Derek.

"Look, I really didn't mean to. I didn't even realize I was doing it until last week when I saw my phone's call log. I barely call anyone, so imagine my surprise when I'm going to call Pizza Hut and I see I've called Derek Hale Twenty Seven Times. I was horrified! I haven't left the house in days because I was terrified I was going to run into you. But of course, lucky me, you came to my house. God, I am so sorry," Stiles said as he cradled his head between his hands.

Derek just shook his head in amusement and peeled Stiles's hands away from his face so he could look at Derek.

"Hey, it's not that big of a deal. We all do stupid, embarrassing stuff. You just do it more often than most people."

"Wow thanks, Derek," Stiles said as he childishly stuck his tongue out at him.

Derek smiled despite himself.

"Hey but I gotta ask, why'd you call me? You could've called Scott or Lydia or anyone really."

Stiles shrugged his shoulders.

"Eh, it was probably my subconscious trying to tell me som-," Stiles said before he promptly stopped as he realized something.

"Stiles, what is it?" Derek asked curiously.

"No, um, nothing. I just uh remembered that you need to leave," Stiles said abruptly as he got up and tried to pull Derek up with him.

Derek let himself be pulled off the bed because he was too distracted by the way Stiles's heart had blipped over and how it was now hammering away frantically.

"Stiles, what was it that your subconscious wanted you to realize?"

"Derek, leave, now," Stiles said as he pushed Derek by the shoulders to his window.

"I would but I can't. Gravity is increasing on me."

"No, it's really not!" Stiles grunted as he tried to push him out of the window with all his strength.

"It is too, Stiles. The same thing happened yesterday," Derek said as he fell on top of Stiles.

"You stupid Alpha! Your body is crushing me! Why do you act so weird?!" Stiles screeched from underneath Derek.

"If you tell me what it was you realized, then I'll consider letting you up."

"No, I'm not gonna tell you, god why're you so heavy? Your ass weighs a ton."

"And now I refuse to move because of that ass comment."

Stiles tried to wiggle his way out but fuck Derek weighed. So he did the only thing he rationalized would help him escape.

He bit Derek on the neck.

Derek yelped in surprise and turned his body completely around to look at Stiles smugly smirking at him. Determined to wipe that smug look off his face, Derek leaned forward and kissed him. Stiles froze in shock and Derek nipped his lip to get him to react. Stiles reacted quite well and started to kiss him back with much anger and passion. Derek kissed him with just as much heat and in doing so; both of them started grinding their groins against each other. Stiles moaned against Derek's lips and Derek reveled in it.

Stiles now had his hands free and he threaded them through Derek's hair, pulling on the follicles ever so slightly. Derek's breath hitched and he moved his mouth to Stiles's neck, rubbing his stubble all over it as he breathed in Stiles's scent. He sucked angry red marks onto the sensitive skin there, marking it possessively and Stiles pushed him closer as he moved his hands to grip Derek by the shoulders.

"Stiles, Stiles, Stiles," he murmured into his collarbone as he pressed small butterfly kisses there.

Stiles just moaned, struggling with the effort to not come right there, God, Derek's voice sounded wreaked.

"Stiles?" Derek asked as he stopped and looked at his face.

"Yeah?" Stiles asked in confusion as to why he'd stopped.

"Was your subconscious trying to tell you that we should move this to your bed because that's what I'm telling you right now?"

"You're kind of a dick and because of that, I've decided you're gonna have to carry me to the bed if you want this," Stiles retorted, gesturing to himself.

Derek gripped him and hoisted him over his shoulder like Stiles was a sack of potatoes. He then promptly dropped Stiles onto the bed.

"Asshole," Stiles said fondly as his head hit the pillow.

"A little bit," Derek said as he lightly threw himself on top of him.

"Oof, and since you just did that, I'm topping."

"Fair enough," Derek said as he kissed him horribly because he was smiling.

"You know I can't remember how the Great Gatsby ends?" Stiles asked casually over breakfast the next day.

They had waited for the Sheriff to leave before they had dared to make breakfast. Everything had almost gone to ruins when the Sheriff had gone to say goodbye to Stiles's sleeping form and Derek had had to hide under the bed. Now they both sat at the dining table eating eggs, bacon Stiles hid from his father and blueberry waffles.

"And how is that my fault?" Derek asked as he tried to steal some of Stiles's bacon.

"Who said it was your fault?" Stiles asked as he slightly stabbed Derek's thieving hand with his fork.

"You sounded like you were accusing me," Derek said as he pulled his hand back and rubbed it.

"Okay, well yeah I am. I finished it yesterday but because of sex last night, I can't remember the ending."

"Sex last night?"

"Yeah, Derek. The sex we had last night."

"The sex you had last night with me made you forget the ending of one of America's best novels?" Derek asked with a smirk.

Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Oh my god, shut up. Now because of that, I'm gonna have to friggin reread the book. I hate you."

"No you don't." Derek said with a little smile.

Stiles himself smiled because how could he not?

"Eat you damn eggs, Derek."

"I'd rather eat you."

"Oh my god and this is why we can't have nice things, Derek."