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How cockroaches made Derek Hale a better person

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“How the hell did you get in here?” Derek frowns at the wall, putting his book down on his lap. For the most part it has been a quiet afternoon, strangely quiet for it being a Saturday. Well, it had been quite loud earlier, when one of the guys from the room next door had been getting ready for a date and his ‘bro’ had been encouraging him along the way. But after the guy left, everything had been relatively quiet. Until now. “Urgh, what even...URGH.”

 

Derek sits up on his bed when he hears a loud thump. “Oh my god, what is your problem? Get out!” He can hear the guy continuing to throw things. “DON’T COME ANY CLOSER, GODDAMNIT.” And that does it. Those two idiots may make his life miserable with their loudness, their ridiculous jabbering and their fucking Margarita Wednesdays every week (which lasts until four in the morning, completely screwing his sleeping schedule and making him a total grump for his 7am class, hell he doesn’t know how Boyd sleeps through that), but Derek is a good guy and a decent human being and he is not going to turn a deaf ear if someone is in clear distress. Besides, Stiles (the annoying one) brings him baked things whenever he goes visit that Lydia girl, so he can help him with his unwanted visitor.

 

Derek is aware of his looks, he knows he looks menacing so he’s sure he can scare the bastard that’s harassing Stiles without even lifting a finger. And if not...well, it’s about time he put all his heavy gym training years to use. He doesn’t bother knocking, hoping his sudden entrance will shock the intruder and tip things in his favor.

 

And he gets ready his meanest frown, just for effect purposes.

 

However, he only sees Stiles when he opens the door.

 

Stiles standing on his bed, with a pillow under his arm and holding his phone in his right hand, as if ready to throw it at...whoever Derek doesn’t see.

 

Oh, what did Derek walk into?

 

Stiles is just staring at him, completely frozen. His face is slightly reddened, probably from all the screaming, but Derek notices that it’s increasingly getting redder. Derek gives the room another look and it really is empty. “I heard you screaming?” Derek offers because, well, if nothing really is going on then he is the one at fault for just barging into his neighbors’ room.

 

“Uh...well...yeah, just...God, this is so embarrassing.”

 

Yes, what was Derek thinking? “I thought there was someone in here. I just thought you might need help.” He feels like an idiot now. Next time he’s going to study with his headphones on to not overhear things he’s not supposed to. “Sorry for just walking in like that.”

 

Stiles quickly shakes his head as he turns to leave. “No, wait!” And Derek does. “Uh, since you’re here...could you…?” Stiles points to the floor and...oh. Oh. When glancing around the room, looking for the intruder, he did see the mess on the floor from the things that Stiles had been throwing, but he had failed to see the medium sized cockroach near Stiles’ bed. “Those little bastards just do things to me.” And he shudders, as if to show how they make him feel.

 

A cockroach.

 

Derek thinks back on the conversation he overheard; Stiles was yelling at a cockroach.

 

A cockroach.

 

But then, Derek’s heard Stiles argue with his laptop plenty of times. Also sing praises to his coffee-maker every other morning. Why is he even surprised?

 

He looks back at the cockroach and then at Stiles, whose hopeful look makes it really impossible for him to even think about saying no. “Sure.” Without any hesitation, Derek walks towards the cockroach, but just as he’s a few steps away from it, Stiles stops him.

 

“Don’t kill it!” Derek frowns. He knows from experience that whenever someone is scared of a bug they immediately want it dead. Except Stiles then, who apparently wants him to catch it and throw it out the window, if his pointing to the window is any indication. He can only hope it’ll be easy; he doesn’t want to be on his hands and knees all over Stiles’ room for too long.

 

Actually…

 

No.

 

“Okay. I’m going to need a cup or something to catch it with.” He looks around and he easily spots a pair of cups by the coffee-maker.

 

“Grab the blue one! That’s Scott’s.”

 

Derek nods and grabs the blue mug, along with an old looking notebook and since he doesn’t hear any complaints coming from Stiles, he assumes it’s also Scott’s. He feels completely ridiculous when carefully approaching the cockroach, especially because he’s aware of Stiles’ eyes intently focused on him, following his every move.

 

And apparently so were the cockroach’s because as soon as he kneels close to it, it quickly moves to hide under Stiles’ bed.

 

“FUCK!”

 

“Fuck.”

 


 

It takes Derek about fifteen minutes to finally get the little bastard out the window. Fifteen minutes spent on his hands and knees, with his head under a bed and enduring not so subtle ass-ogling from Stiles.

 

Really, Derek caught him five times.

 

“There you go,” he says after closing the window. So much for being a good guy and a decent human being. Never again.

 

“That was so very awesome of you. Thank you so much!” Stiles sits on his bed and for the first time since Derek walked in, he relaxes; he just slumps against the wall and lets the pillow fall next to him. “I really don’t know how to deal with them. Scott says they’re not going to come close to me, but I kept throwing stuff at this one hoping it’ll go away, but it just kept coming closer! And I was starting to freak out, thinking that maybe it was going to fly to me and...” He looks up at Derek and gives him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you were doing far more important things over at your room, so I really appreciate it.”

 

Okay, maybe he could endure being a good guy and decent human being again. “It’s fine. I’ll just…”

 

“Okay! Really, dude, thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome, Stiles.” He doesn’t fail to notice how Stiles tenses a little.

 

“You know my name.”

 

He nods. “You’re the one that leaves baked goods outside my door.”

 

Stiles looks a little mortified about that. “Oh. You...know that too.”

 

“The walls are really thin,” he says lamely because, well, it is true. Stiles’ attempts at being sneaky about it had been successful, but him rambling at Scott about how he worried if Derek was going to like whatever had been the outcome of his and Lydia’s stress baking gave everything away. “If you need help with any other bugs just...scream for me or something.”

 

“Will do.”

 


 

Nearly a week later, Derek has nearly forgotten about the cockroach incident. He hadn’t run into Stiles at all, and he hadn’t left any baked goods for him. But he did notice that Margarita Wednesday had been shorter and quieter, for which he had been quite grateful.

 

When he returns to his room after a long Friday on campus, all he wants to do is lie on his bed and maybe nap for an hour or two.

 

“Why was the annoying one yelling your name a while ago?” Boyd asks without looking away from his laptop screen.

 

Not again.

 

“How long was ‘a while ago’?” He asks, resigned.

 

“Ten minutes maybe.”

 

“I’ll go check on him,” he says after dumping his things on his bed.

 

“Should I put my earphones on?”

 

Derek stops at the door and turns to give Boyd the deadliest glare he could muster, but Boyd isn’t even looking his way. But he must know either way because Derek notices how the corner of his mouth curls up and also the minute shaking of his shoulders. “Ha, ha.”