Stiles Stilinski was awkward, that much everybody knew. He was awkward, and gangly, and pale, and annoying, and he never sat still or listened. He was always getting into some kind of trouble and running into things. He tripped up the stairs, on his own shoelaces, on nothing. He was undeniably human, and yet, somehow, he had caught the attention of one nicknamed Sourwolf. Stiles was completely and totally unaware of this fact, though he seemed to be the only one. Then again, there was something that Stiles was completely unaware of, something that, when he found out, would change everything.

However, for the moment, Stiles would remain unaware. He was sitting in his chemistry classroom, tapping his fingers on his textbook, fighting the urge to mock gag at Allison and Scott being, well, Allison and Scott. Sometimes, he really wished he had a better best friend. Then again, Scott had been there for him after his mother had died. At least, he was pretty sure it was Scott. He could not really remember anything from about a year after his mother passed back. He remembered bits and pieces of his mother specifically, memories of time with her and all that jazz. However, anything else was just gone from the eighteen-year-old's memory.

God, chemistry was boring. Thankfully, it was his last class of the day. There was a pack meeting that night. Well, okay, so it was more like a pack bonding night. They were all going to meet up at one of the coffee shops in town and just... hang. It was odd. Stiles had never been really popular, though he was close friends with some of the most popular people in school. He was not "cool by association", but nobody really picked on him anymore. That was mostly because Jackson shoved someone against the lockers and told them to back off Stiles before he made them. When questioned later, the lacrosse star shrugged and simply said, "He's pack." Then, of course, was the muttering to Lydia about how Derek would have ended him if something happened to Stiles when he could have prevented it; which just made Stiles laugh and roll his eyes.

Stiles sighed and picked up his highlighter, tapping out a nameless beat with it as he looked around the classroom. Where was their teacher? He was going to get copies of their homework. Surely it did not take that long. His eyes stopped wandering as he glanced back toward the windows and spotted Derek outside, leaning against the black Camero, sullen as usual. He went to ask Scott or Issac if they knew that Derek was there, or why, but then stopped himself with a laugh. Of course they knew Derek was there. He was their alpha, after all. Questions for Derek, then.

When the bell rang, their teacher finally returned with the homework sheets and passed them out to everyone as they left the classroom. The halls were loud and busy, everyone rushing around, in a hurry to get out of there. Boyd clapped him on the shoulder as they passed one another, saying a quick, "See you in a few," as he threw an arm around Erica's shoulders. It was odd, Stiles mused with a faint smile toward the ground. He actually felt like he belonged, which was definitely something new to him. It was the first day of his senior year. Maybe, just maybe, things were finally looking up and his luck was turning around for good.

Or not.

Stiles groaned as he managed to trip over his own two feet in the courtyard outside as he was heading over to Derek to see what the Hale Pack alpha was doing there. He just stayed there for a few moments on the ground, giving a thumbs up to someone who laughed, "Nice work, Balinski."

Damn his luck.

"You okay?" he heard, making his brow furrow as he looked up enough to see Derek standing over him.

Derek was seemingly unimpressed, his mouth pinched in a faint line, though his brow was furrowed faintly, as if he might actually care a bit whether or not Stiles managed to hurt himself again. "Peachy keen, Sourwolf," Stiles replied, though he did take the werewolf's hand when the man offered to help him up. "Thanks. What're you doing here? Do you get off creepin' on the high school or something?"

A predictable eye roll from Derek followed in response as he turned to head back to his car. "Get in the car, Stiles," was all Derek said in response.

Stiles stood there for a moment like he was going to argue. Instead, he just shrugged and listened. Scott had driven him to school that morning, after all, and he really did not feel like sitting in the backseat, watching him and Allison being all lovey and cute all the way to the coffee shop. "So, how is my favorite Sourwolf today?" questioned Stiles with a cheesy grin as he sank down low in his seat, bouncing his knee absently without bothering to buckle in. Derek drove fast, but he had good control over the car. He was not worried about an accident. There was a trust there that Stiles could not believe was actually there, considering the whole growly, throwing against walls, anger, brooding thing that typically would have made him just avoid Hale. "Sour as usual?"

The teen smirked to himself as Derek offered no response. So, he took it as an invitation to continue talking, if only to fill the silence. Stiles hated silence. It was too... silent. It reminded him of bad times. He rambled on about school, Scott and Allison, Jackson being all moody, the school lunches and how he was starving because it was gross. He continued talking until Derek arched a brow and glanced over at him. "Yes, Derek? Do you actually have something to input?" questioned Stiles, unable to keep the slight sound of hope from his voice.

"You talk too much," Derek replied simply, though Stiles was fairly sure, and it could have just been his delusional mind being delusional (y'know, one too many hits to the head or something), that there was a hint of fondness to Derek's tone.

Derek fond of him? It had to be his imagination because hello? He was a frail, skinny little human with a loud mouth and a tendency to not full think things through. At the same time, though, he often over-thought things. It was just how he worked.

"Thank you for that, Captain Obvious." Stiles smiled softly, though, as he settled into his seat more, tapping his fingers on his bouncing knee.

"That is way too much sugar, Stiles," Scott said with a wrinkle of his nose as he watched his best friend make himself a cup of coffee.

The brown-eyed teen just shook his head with a wide grin. "Nah," he replied, setting down the empty packets. "It's just right. You just do not appreciate my perfected ratio of coffee to sugar and creamer."

"It's practically flavored sugar water!"

"Exactly!"

Scott groaned, Derek smiled to himself faintly as he stayed busy with his own cup of coffee (silent as ever), the girls talked about a shopping trip into the city that weekend (because the next was the full moon and that would not happen), Jackson and Issac talked about some sports thing, while Boyd was talking to Danny about weight lifting. It was peaceful, despite the barista behind the counter looking terrified at the sheer number of the group, that only grew as Sheriff Stilinski and Mrs. McCall showed up to join them.

"Scott, I sent out your application to Berkeley today," Melissa stated as she stole a muffin from her son's plate.

Everyone around them started talking about college applications and scholarships and all that jazz. Derek tensed next to Stiles, who was silent (for once). "Where are you applying Stiles?" questioned Lydia after boasting about Jackson's scholarship to Berkeley for swimming and lacrosse.

Stiles stared wide-eyed at everyone, his mouth full of whatever pastry he had ordered, before he quickly finished the food and laughed, reaching up to ruffle his hair that he had started to grow out a bit again. "Me? Uh, yeah, the whole college thing... continuing my education... living in dorms and all that jazz..." he laughed nervously, bouncing his knee under the table, accidentally hitting Derek (who was even more tense at that moment) with his leg as he moved it from side to side as well until the Alpha rested a hand on his knee, squeezing slightly. Stiles swallowed thickly as his dad watched him and he shrugged a little before laughing awkwardly. "I honestly have no idea where I want to go or what to study or anything. Might take some time off and just kinda... y'know... figure it out."

Derek seemed to relax next to Stiles, only a little, while the Sheriff frowned faintly. "You could go to Berkeley with the rest of us!" Scott said with a beaming smile. "We chose it so we could stay close to home, visit on the weekends... full moons and such."

The pack alpha smiled faintly to himself once again, masking it behind his cup of coffee, though Stiles saw it. The teen did not even really realize that Derek's hand was still on his knee. It was kind of comforting to have it there, so Stiles did not do anything to remove it, missing the sly smiles that Lydia and Allison shared. "Yeah, well, that's definitely one of the top options," Stiles replied with a nod.

To be honest, he had filled out all kinds of applications, and he had gotten accepted to multiple schools. He had not lied when he said he did not know where he wanted to go or what he wanted to study. It was true. He had so many options. There were a few witches that were pushing for him to go study in Cambridge, and even a few more who wanted him to go to England. Of course, Stiles could not let that suggestion go without a plethora of Harry Potter jokes. He wanted to go abroad (they'd offered him a full ride scholarship), but at the same time, something was nagging at him to stay home. He had the entire summer and rest of the school year to decide, though. It was only the beginning of December.

Once their little meeting was over, and everyone else went their ways, Stiles and Derek continued to sit there in the coffee shop. "You really haven't decided on a school yet?" Derek questioned slowly, almost as if he was afraid to approach the subject. Ha! Derek afraid. Stiles made himself laugh.

He shook his head a little, stirring his cold coffee with a slight shrug. "There's just... s'a lot to think about, y'know?" he replied. There were a lot of reasons why he did not want to go far from home. What startled him a bit, though, was the fact that most of the time, his thoughts came back to the Sourwolf next to him.

Stiles worried about who would make sure Derek did not get out of line, make sure he did not go all brooding and moody and lock himself away in the basement, make sure he remembered to eat (on days that Stiles remembered to eat, himself), and all that jazz. He was not sure why he worried about those things, but someone had to help take care of Derek, since he would not do it for himself. Stiles' brow furrowed a little as that thought made him almost remember something. At least, he thought it was a memory. He could practically hear somebody, in a very frail and breathless voice, say, "Promise me you'll look after him, Derek."

"Stiles!" Derek said rather loudly, making the teen jump a little. "Are you okay? You kinda spaced out there for a second."

"Uh, yeah, yeah I'm fine." Stiles smiled widely at Derek and nodded, absently ruffling his own hair. "Just got caught up in my thoughts for a moment. Hey! I just remembered, I've never had a chance to break in that game Scott got me for my birthday. Wanna come over so I can kick your butt at it?"

Derek laughed faintly (it was short and did not last nearly long enough, but it was a nice sound), and shrugged a little, pushing back his empty coffee cup. "C'mon, Stiles," he stated as he stood up.

The awkward teen smiled and got up as well. He rambled the entire way to Derek's car, and then the entire way to his house. His dad was working late, so it was just the two of them as they played video games, ordered pizza, and talked about random, unimportant things. It was odd, though. Derek actually talked with him. It was nothing important or monumental, but the man did add a few things here and there to the conversation, actually making it a conversation instead of Stiles just rambling on and taking silent cues to what Derek was thinking from the wolf's facial expressions.

When Sheriff Stilinski returned home late that night (or early the next morning, depending on how you looked at it), Derek and Stiles were asleep, leaning against the headboard of Stiles' bed. The teen was leaning against Derek, head on the young man's shoulder as the television screen said GAME OVER across it. They both still had controllers in their hands and Derek's head rested on top of Stiles'. The sheriff wanted to barge in there, wake them up and demand that Derek go home and to never do that again. But, Stiles was asleep, something that did not happen. He did not seem to be having any nightmares, either. He could not bring himself to interrupt that. Derek was a lucky man.

The sheriff sighed softly and shook his head, but kept going down the hall to his own room, missing Derek's eyes open. Derek glanced down at Stiles and smiled faintly as the teen pressed a little closer to him. He should probably go home, to put distance between himself and Stiles; but, he could not bring himself to move, especially since the sheriff did not kick him out as he had predicted. Derek closed his eyes, and fell back asleep.