AU where Stiles is a bus driver and one day Derek sees this beautiful, beautiful young man walking around with bus driver’s ID clipped on and from that point on he’s hooked and starts riding the bus to work every day even though he’s got a Camaro and maybe he just wants to do his part to help the environment Laura, shut up, and over the next six months Derek watches Stiles drive his bus trying to work up the nerve to go talk to him
i’m equal parts in love with the idea that Stiles can read lips and sees him giving himself pep talks to work up the nerve to talk to stiles and the idea that Stiles is pretty sure Derek is going to serial kill him.
And then maybe one day Derek decides he’s gonna do it and he rides the bus all the way to the last stop and Stiles pulls out a taser and is like okay dude! My dad is law enforcement.
And it’s probably not even the worst attempt at asking someone out for Derek.
This is it. Today is the day.
Derek glances at the bus schedule in his hands, and flicks his eyes up towards the display. Rosemary Street is the last stop before the bus goes back to its docking station, and they just pulled away from the curb. Now all Derek has to do is wait.
He’s got the words in his head, and he’s mouthing them quietly to himself when it finally pulls to a stop, and Derek pushes himself up off his usual seat, takes a perfunctory look around the area to see he hasn’t left anything. Steeling his nerves, he walks calmly down the aisle, though his calm facade was kind of shattered by the way his palms had begun to sweat as they clutched the strap of his messenger bag like a lifeline. Once he gets closer to the front, he notices Stiles eyeing him warily, and when he opens his mouth to speak, Stiles lifts up a-
Is that a fucking taser?
"Don’t fucking try anything, buddy," he warns, his voice shaky. "My dad’s in law enforcement, I’ve got them on speed dial. And I know three different ways to disarm people," he continues, his eyes wide.
Derek’s jaw drops.
"Yeah, doesn’t look like it, huh," Stiles puffs up, proud. "But I can, and I don’t want any trouble. So you can just, go, now."
"I don’t want to hurt you," Derek tries, and shit, this is not how he imagined this going at all.
Stiles snorts. “I’m sure, but you’re not getting my wallet. Not that I have much in it, but it’s the principle of the thing. Scram!” he insists.
"I don’t want to rob you, oh my god,” Derek exclaims, exasperated. The sheer absurdity of the situation seems to have made him forget his earlier nervousness. He waves at the taser in Stiles’ hand. “Put that down, are those even legal?”
Stiles eyes him suspiciously.
"No, but I’m not going to get arrested for it, not in this town," he says, lowering the hand with the taser slowly. "If you don’t want to rob me, why’d you stay until the end of the line?"
"I… wanted to ask you out," Derek finally sighs, before gesturing at Stiles. "Obviously I’m not very good at it."
"You did?" Stiles’ voice is filled with awe, and Derek scowls.
"I do,” he corrects grumpily, and Stiles beams at him. There’s no way Derek can keep frowning when he’s so close to something so beautiful. “I was gathering up my courage.”
"Oh man, that is adorable,” Stiles breathes, before stepping closer to Derek. “You need to work on your communication skills, man.” He wrinkles his nose. “And your social skills. I thought you were a serial killer.” Derek’s eyebrows furrow in offense, and Stiles reaches up to smooth them out with his fingers. “I’m sure they’re in there somewhere, right?” he blinks up at Derek hopefully, and Derek doesn’t stand a chance.
"The last time I asked someone out, I made her cry and she punched me in the face," he admits, and Stiles collapses into his shoulder, cackling.
Derek doesn’t really mind.