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Stiles doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with him, except maybe chronic over-caffeination. But his dad’s retired K-9, Bandit, disagrees. According to TikTok, that means cancer. Or seizures. Or secret pregnancy. Cue Stiles in an exam room, shirt off, face burning, while Derek Hale—yes, that Derek Hale, his long-forgotten high school crush turned absurdly hot doctor—takes his medical history like it’s no big deal. It’s fine. Totally fine. Not a meet-cute. Definitely not.
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Derek and Stiles eavesdrop on bad dates at the local coffee shop.
“I never knew you were such a gossip,” Stiles said, amused.
“I don't get out much,” Derek mumbled.
“Well, dinner and a show, you're practically a patron of the arts,” Stiles said.
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Derek nodded once, reaching for it, all while reminding himself over and over again in his head to thank him with the pun. This was it, this was the moment for him. Stiles would realize he’d understood the pun from yesterday, and would laugh, and Derek would feel relieved, and everything would be great.
His hand closed around the cup and he said, “Thanks for the latte.”
Fuck.
Fuck!
Stiles looked startled, eyes dipping down to the drink Derek was now holding, and then back up. “Sorry, did you—I thought you wanted a coffee, did you want a latte?”
“No.” Derek turned his back on him and walked away, resisting the urge to just head straight back to his car to drive off a cliff.
Thanks a latte! The fucking pun was thanks a latte! Not thanks for the latte! Fuck! How had he messed it up so fucking badly?! It was three words!
“That went well,” Boyd said, catching up with him. Derek just reached out to punch him hard in the arm without even looking.
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Derek tries to woo Stiles with geeky latte art.
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The Hale estate has been silent for ten years. The village doesn't ask why. Stiles asks anyway.
A Sterek Beauty and the Beast AU. Derek is the Beast. His family is the furniture. The rose is dying. And the sheriff's kid with the big mouth and the bigger heart isn't going anywhere.
