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The thing is, it all started with Kate. Well, Kate and Jackson. It’s more or less both of their faults.

“Oh my god dude, you went out with Kate Argent?” Jackson says, and does he not understand that the locker room right after lacrosse practice is not the best place to talk about things that are private.

“Yes Jackson, but keep your voice down.” Derek hisses, yanking on a clean t-shirt.

“But she’s a complete hard-ass! She’s turned down every single guy who’s asked her out. I mean she turned me down, and no one turns me down.” he says and his voice is still far too loud for Derek’s liking.

“Well, turns out it was a good thing you didn’t go out with her. She jumped me.”  And he’s finished changing now, just gathering up his stuff. He turns to Jackson just in time to see his mouth drop open.

“You boned Kate Argent?!” he yells, loud enough for the entire locker room to turn to look at them. Derek grits his teeth and glares, refusing to blush as he drags Jackson out of the locker room and down to the empty parking lot.

No, Jackson. She didn’t jump me as in, ‘jumped my bones’ but as in, ‘jumped me in an alley with a knife.’ I think she may actually be insane. I ran off but she was yelling something about wolf’s bane and silver. I don’t know but she may be crazy.”

“Oh,” Jackson says, and he sounds disappointed by the truth. Here he had been thinking Derek could have been the first one of their group to actually have sex.

Of course, Derek didn’t know at the time exactly what had begun.


On Monday the hallway goes completely silent when Derek steps in the front doors. Then a wave of tittering and whispers break out as he walks over to Jackson and Danny’s lockers. Derek gives them a ‘what the fuck is going on?’ glare and Jackson goes kind of pale. Danny sighs.

“So, thanks to Jackson’s outburst in the locker room on Friday the entire school now thinks you are the 16-year-old who finally slept with Kate Argent.” Danny says apologetically. Derek doesn’t know how to react so he decides growling and storming off is a good option. Any people in his way quickly scatter.


Tuesday afternoon the whole situation escalates. Derek sits next to a nice but quiet girl named Erica in 5th period. During their worktime she turns to him and whispers.

“Hey, I heard Kate screeching in the girls locker rooms last period about how she never really slept with you?”

“That’s true,” he says quickly, hoping this would be a chance to clear the whole thing up, “It was all a misunderstanding, if you could just tell people…” Derek trails off because Erica is shaking her head, a cold gleam in her eyes he’d never seen before.

“No, was actually thinking the opposite.” she says, smirking, “I was thinking, if people already think you slept with Kate when you didn’t, what’s the harm in them thinking you slept with someone else… say, me.”

“What?” Derek whispers furiously. “Why on earth–”

“Because Derek, you’re cool. And now that you’ve slept with Kate–”

“I never slept with Kate.” Derek butts in, but she just waves her hand and continues.

“Now that you’ve ‘slept with’ Kate you are ten times cooler. If people thought I could sleep with you, then all of that coolness would rub off on me.” And here she pauses and looks down, the vulnerable girl Derek knows showing through. “I kind of need all the cool I can get, Derek. Please? Help me?”

Derek knows at the time it’s a bad idea, he just has no idea how bad of an idea it is.


By Thursday, Isaac approaches him with a similar deal, saying Erica had told him what Derek had done for her, and asking if he could do the same for Isaac.

In that moment Derek seriously regrets helping Erica. He also regrets that when Danny had come out as gay, Derek had come out as bi, for solidarity.

But Isaac gives him this terrible wounded look when he tries to refuse.

By the end of the week, Derek Hale, still 100% a virgin, is known at school as the stud who slept with three people in 1 week.


The week after that sees Derek agreeing to walk down the hall with an arm over Boyd’s shoulders. And letting Erica borrow a leather jacket of his so he can publicly ask for it back after ‘forgetting it at her house the other night.’ Derek is pretty sure this is getting out of hand. Soon he’ll just be in man-whore territory. Fake man-whore, but still. He does not see what exactly he is getting out of this.

Still, seeing Erica walking confidently into school, after what looks like a complete make-over. And seeing Boyd and Isaac practically sashaying down the halls with their new-found confidence. Derek supposes there’s nothing really wrong with being the slut of Beacon Hills High.




 “Scott, will you pay attention to me for one fucking second please?” Stiles says, waving a hand desperately in front of his friend’s face.

“Dude, you’ve been talking about Lydia every lunch for the past six years and now I finally have a crush of my own to worry about. There’s no way you’re going to keep my attention.” he says, pushing Stiles’ hand away so he could continue to stare at the new girl, Allison, sitting across the cafeteria.

“But what if I told you I finally got to first base with Lydia...” Stiles says as Scott’s mouth falls open. “Well, ok not quite first base,” he continues and Scott’s shock quickly turns to annoyance.

“Stiles, stop trying to distract me.” Scott hisses but Stiles flails his arms around to keep Scott’s attention for just a minute longer.

“But wait! I really almost did! See Lydia was super drunk at Greenburg’s party on Saturday and so I couldn’t, like, take advantage of her or anything by actually kissing her. But! I did get to talk to her and I mean she was high as a kite.” Scott was giving Stiles a look of vague anger and bemusement. “Anyway! She was out of it, so she finally admitted why she wouldn’t date me!”

“Was it because you’re a spastic loser? Or because you’re hyper and annoying? Or because you’re a total geek? Or–”

“Scott, jesus, stop describing me please.” Stiles cuts in, really not wanting to hear more. “And no, asshole. She said it was because she only dates ‘experienced’ guys.” Scott just looks at Stiles in confusion for a moment. Then realization dawns on his face.

“Oooooh, you mean she won’t date you ‘cause you’re a virgin?” Scott says, way too loudly considering they are surrounded my classmates who, granted, probably assume Stiles is a virgin. But still, there’s no call for Scott to go and confirm their suspicions.

“God Scott, say it a little louder next time. But yeah, basically she thinks that virgins are too awkward and are incapable to keeping up with her or something? I don’t know, after a minute she got distracted and started rambling about freaking Jackson and his stupid face. Man, I hate that guy.” Stiles is ready to go on a rant about exactly how stupid each and every one of Jackson’s characteristics were when he looked up and noticed Scott’s expression.

The nicest way to describe it is that Scott looks like he really, really needs to go to the little boy’s room. But Stiles, being the wonderful best friend that he is, knows that that is Scott’s thinking face. When he looks like that it’s best to stay quiet and let the idea slowly coalesce. If you give Scott some time, his ideas are sometimes pretty good.

“You know Isaac? He’s on the lacrosse team with us?” Scott says finally.

“Umm, yeah he sits next to me on the bench pretty much every game. Although I really don’t see how he’s relevant. I mean, I think he told me something once about him crushing on a guy? And he does have really nice hair. And have you seen his jaw… but no, dude, I’m not going to sleep with Isaac. Not to mention he probably wouldn’t sleep with me.” Scott finally waves Stiles into silence.

“No, nothing like that. I was just talking to him the other day, because we’re working on this chemistry project together. And he kind of accidentally told me something that he told me never to tell anybody else. But, like, I think it could help you?” Scott says, and now his thinking face has come back, as if he is contemplating this terrible moral dilemma.

“Uh-huh, so tell me already?” Stiles demands. Whatever, he has special best-friend privileges, okay?

“Well, apparently Derek Hale pretended to sleep with him? So the whole school would think that Isaac had had sex and was kind of badass?”

Stiles knows a bad plan when he comes up with it. The plan that springs fully-formed into his brain in that moment is, without a doubt, a bad plan.

“I know exactly what to do.” Stiles says.




Derek stomps on the brakes of his Camaro. He had been just about to drive out of the school parking lot when Stiles Stilinski had stumbled in front of his car, waving his hands around like a crazy person. Derek just glares when Stiles comes around to the passenger side of the car and motions for him to roll the window down. Stiles progresses to knocking on the window before Derek grudgingly opens it.

“Umm, hey so I was going to talk to you at lacrosse practice but dude you get dressed really fast.” Stiles pants out, leaning into Derek’s car.

“Stiles. What do you want?”

“Uh yeah, I want to talk to you actually.” Derek does not want to talk to Stiles. He does not want to be stuck in a confined space with Stiles when he looks flushed from running and when his lips are unfairly pink. Derek does not want to talk to someone who he may have had an ill-advised crush on since middle school when Stiles had developed the habit of leaving his mouth hanging open in a way that should have looked stupid but instead had just turned Derek’s teenage brain to mush.

Derek unlocks the car doors. Stiles quickly jumps in, as if worried Derek would change his mind.

“So do you want a ride home?” Derek says after a minute.

“What?” Stiles says, shocked out of whatever thoughts he may have been having.

“Well, you already forced your way into my car. And I’m kind of blocking the parking lot for anyone else who wants to go home so…”

“Huh, yeah that’s true. Ok, sure I mean I guess Scott can take my Jeep. He wanted to go over to Allison’s place to study today anyway. Oh, and I left all my stuff in the locker room when I ran out after you. So I guess I kind of need a ride, yeah.” Stiles looks sheepish and Derek just rolls his eyes and puts the car into gear.



“So what did you want to talk about?”  Derek asks after a minute of silence. Stiles has spent that minute desperately trying to figure out why he thought he should do this. Pretending to have sex with one of his major crushes in order to get just a little bit closer to actually sleeping with his other major crush, oh yeah that’s bound to work out well. Especially when the guy he’s asking to pretend to sleep with him has kind of borderline despised him for longer than Stiles can remember. “Stiles?” he says again and Stiles doesn’t think, just talks. It’s his specialty really.

“So I heard from Scott who heard from Isaac that you have kind of been pretending to sleep with people.” Stiles pauses just long enough to see Derek’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, maybe in an attempt to restrain himself from strangling Stiles. He gulps and quickly continues. “And I know you’ll probably say no, but I was just kind of wondering if you might do that for me? Because I know you probably don’t want to but I could maybe give you something in return? Like, like a gift card! Or something? Not that I’m trying to pay you! I don’t think you’re a whore or anything! Or a pretend whore, because we wouldn’t actually be having sex but just pretending to have sex. Maybe.” That maybe, is looking increasingly like a ‘no way in hell.’ Damn it, this was a terrible idea.

To distract himself from his humiliation, Stiles tries to figure out some way to blame this whole thing on Scott. He’s still trying to twist the logic just right when Derek finally says something.





Stiles kind of laughs and then his face goes completely blank with shock.

“Wait, did you say okay? As in, okay you’ll do it? As in, okay you’ll pretend to sleep with me?” And Derek almost wants to back out, wants to say something snide and hurtful just to get Stiles to stop looking at him with that mixture of shock and awe. Instead he nods. “Oh my god! Thank you so much Derek, holy shit! I mean–” Derek cuts him off gruffly.

“If you want to do this, you’ll have to do it my way, alright?” Derek says, and wow, he’s a really bad person but he knows he’s going to go through with it. He keeps talking before Stiles can reply. “No gift cards, no payment, but you’ll have to make it look real. I’ve already helped out a couple people and if it gets out that it’s all a lie then they, and I, are going to be way worse off than we started.” Which is true, if completely not why Derek wants to make this as real as possible. “That means no telling anyone, got it? And tell Scott to keep his mouth shut too.” Stiles nods so vigorously he looks like a bobble head doll.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Whatever you want. We’ll play by your rules or whatever. But how exactly are we going to make it seem real? I mean what are we going to do besides start saying we slept together.” God just hearing Stiles say those words, ‘we slept together,’ should not be making Derek’s chest ache with how much he wants this not to be fake. Had he mentioned this was a terrible idea?

“There’s going to be a party this weekend, after the lacrosse game. At the party we’re going to pretend to be drunk and all over each other, and then go into one of the back rooms and pretend to have sex.” Derek says, as if he isn’t making this up as he goes along, as if he’s completely sure of himself and just trying to make a convincing show. But Stiles is already agreeing, already rambling again and Derek tries to focus on the road in front of him. It’s too late to back out now.




“Do you think it’s too late to back out now?” Stiles says, clutching Scott’s arm. They’re standing outside Danny’s door. Inside they can hear the party is already in full swing with rowdy shouts and loud music.

“Yeah dude, it kind of is. And whatever, you don’t really want to back out anyway. You’ll be fake having sex with Derek. As in Derek, the dude who made you realize you were bi. And fake sex is like way closer to having sex with him then I ever thought you would get.”

“Wow Scott, thanks for that little vote of confidence.” Stiles grumbles. “Also, I know who Derek is, jackass. I wouldn’t be so nervous if I was pretending to have sex with someone I didn’t really, really want to have sex with for real. I’m just, what if he’ll be able to tell somehow? What if we’re stuck in that room together and somehow he knows?” Scott looks sympathetic for a moment, then he turns and knocks loudly on the door before Stiles can stop him.

“That’s not going to happen, Stiles. And I’m not letting you wait anymore and freak yourself out.” he says as the door opens and Danny welcomes them in.


The party itself is boring. Just like every other party Stiles had ever been to. What’s different is how he quickly seeks out Derek, and how they hang out on the couch for a while, thighs pressed together, taking swigs from Derek’s flask. Of course, Derek’s flash is filled with some kind of vitamin mix, not alcohol. But no one else knows that. Not to mention it’s kind of gross so Stiles doesn’t have to pretend to wince every time he takes a swallow.

So he and Derek sit on the sofa for a while, talking more loudly, gesturing more expansively and generally acting like they’re getting drunker and drunker. But they’d decided the pretense wouldn’t be as meaningful if everyone thought they were truly smashed. So instead they’d agreed to rein it in at just beyond tipsy. When they both reach that point, Derek takes Styles hand in his and drags him into one of the house’s spare bedrooms, intentionally bumping into several people on the way, drawing as much attention to them both as possible.

And then they’re there, in the bedroom together, the sound of the music dimmed only to be replaced by Stiles’ pulse pounding in his ears.

“So, um, what now?” Stiles asks, hands balled in his pockets. Derek turns to him, looks him in the eye, and then grabs the front of his hoodie and slams Stiles back onto the closed door. The noise is loud and Stiles thinks he may have heard someone gasp in the hall behind him. Derek growls long and loud and Stiles is suddenly not just nervous but also extremely turned on. That didn’t take long.

“Are you going to help me out here?” Derek says quietly. Standing this close to him, it’s not hard for Stiles to let out a moan that sounds very, very real. Derek stiffly nods his head in approval before pulling Stiles back from the door. He wants to ask Derek what’s up with all the man-handling but before he has time, Derek is pushing him back on the bed sharply enough for the springs to groan and the bed frame to rattle loudly. Wow, apparently this is the squeakiest bed ever. Stiles figures that will just make their jobs easier. Derek stands over him for a second and Stiles swallows.

“Look,” Derek pauses and he almost looks nervous for the first time. “I don’t really know how to make this sound realistic. I mean, jumping on the bed and pounding on the walls isn’t really going to sound like anything but jumping on the bed and hitting the walls. So, I think we should– I’m going to try…” he trails off, then huffs out a breath and says. “Just tell me if I’m making you uncomfortable, alright?” Then he’s climbing on the bed on top of Stiles, mattress protesting the extra weight.

“Oh!” Stiles says, shocked and too loud. But whatever, that could be a sexy ‘oh,’ maybe Stiles is really vocal during sex. It’s not like anyone would know, not even Stiles considering he has never had sex. Actually, this – Derek kneeling over him, arms braced on either side of his head – is pretty much the closest he had ever come to having sex. Seriously, Stiles’ life is kind of tragic.

And then Derek rocks on his knees, bed creaking, and he groans. Stiles squeaks and he’s supposed to be making noise, but not those noises damn it. So then he moans loudly to make up for it as Derek moves again. They quickly fall into a rhythm. Derek shakes the bed enough for it to thump loudly against the wall with every ‘thrust.’ They trade shouts and groans back and forth in the space between them. Space which Stiles is incredibly glad of, because if they were closer then Derek would definitely notice that Stiles is embarrassingly hard.

“How,” Stiles says quietly, voice hoarse from fake and not-so fake moans, “how long do you think we should do this for?” Derek looks offended as he speeds up his movements so the bed rattles rather alarmingly.

“Longer than this.” he murmurs back. “It wouldn’t be quick, if this was real. If, if I was really doing this, I would make sure you were begging for it.” Stiles isn’t sure if the pause is pointed or not, but it doesn’t really matter.

“Derek, Derek, please.” Stiles groans out, voice already wrecked. “Please.”

“Yeah,” Derek says, voice gravely and soft, “just like that. I’d have you begging me, and then I’d still take my time. I might, I might be kind of rough, because I want you so much.”

“That would be okay.” Stiles squeaks back, before gathering his nerves and grabbing behind Derek’s knees, yanking him forward particularly harshly as Stiles shouts. “Yes, god just like that.” As soon as he’s done it Stiles’ cheeks burn but Derek just smirks down at him, so he leaves his hands cupping the back of Derek’s knees.

“I would make you yell just like that. But I’d keep going. I would wait,” and now he slowed his rocking down, so the bed still squeaked, but not nearly as much, “I would wait until you were right on the edge, until you were just about to come, and then I’d slow down. Keep you there, begging, until it got too much.” Stiles knows he’s whimpering, but by this point just the feeling of his jeans rubbing against his dick, along with Derek’s words, Derek’s eyes smoldering above him, is enough to have him all but coming in his jeans.

“Jesus Christ, Derek, fuck.” Stiles says and he’s not thinking about how loud his voice should be, not thinking about whether that statement is just for Derek or if it’s supposed to be for show. It doesn’t really matter because Derek starts talking again.

“Yeah. When it was too much, I’d go fast, go hard, just like you want me too.” The bed is shaking again, cracking roughly against the wall. “And Stiles, at the end, you’d come screaming my name.” And Stiles can’t take it anymore, he can’t keep looking at Derek’s face which is so close to his now, so intense. It’s too easy to hear his shaking voice and look into his eyes and think this could almost all be real. So Stiles squeezes his eyes shut instead and takes a deep breath. With his lungs full of Derek’s heat and Derek’s smell, Derek’s name slips out of his mouth and it’s a cry, a plea.

Stiles keeps his eyes closed as Derek shoves the bed a few more times before groaning so loud and long that it almost doesn’t sound human anymore, it’s too animalistic. Just a couple more faux thrusts and then Derek stills above him, hovers over Stiles for a long moment. He’s panting, and Stiles hadn’t really thought about how much effort it must have taken to push the bed against the wall over and over again. Derek carefully moves off Stiles before falling back on the bed next to him. In the quiet they can hear a small cheer go up from their apparently captivated audience outside the door. Stiles doesn’t know who it is and right then he can’t think about it. He can’t think about anything except how hard it is to breathe around the desperate want settled in his chest. He wants this, he wants Derek, he wants it all for real.

Finally Stiles opens his eyes to look at Derek, although he’s terrified of what Derek will see there. Derek’s face is smooth, just a tiny crease between his eyebrows.

“I’ve never actually had sex.” he says and it’s so completely out of the blue that Stiles doesn’t know how to react. “This was all a big misunderstanding. I’ve never had sex, because I’ve been waiting for someone. I wanted him to finally get over a girl, to look at me the way he looks at her.”

Stiles feels cold suddenly, can feel a shiver crawling up his spine. As if the lack of Derek’s heat above him is finally getting to Stiles.

“You’ve been pretty, you know, grumpy while you waited. It makes it kind of difficult for people to read you.” Stiles says and he doesn’t think about what’s happening. Can’t think about it because nothing makes sense and if he tries to make sense of it then he’s going to realize that actually it’s all a big misunderstanding or something. Because that would make more sense than this.

“Sorry.” he says and Stiles likes the sound of Derek apologizing, it sounds real and honest. “I’ll try to work on that.”

And then they lie there for a while longer, just kind of looking at one another and Stiles has a thousand things he wants to say or ask but he just bites his lip. Derek’s eyes follow the movement before flicking past him to look at the door.

“We should probably leave soon,” he says.

“Okay.” Stiles says, and they get up. He thinks for a moment about straightening their clothes, but that would be kind of counterproductive. They want to look debauched.

Derek steps in front of him and reaches out to open the door. The eavesdroppers are surely waiting on the other side but while it’s still just the two of them, Stiles touches Derek’s arm. He tugs on Derek’s sleeve and as he turns around, Stiles presses up against him and he slots their lips together.

Alone, completely silently, Stiles kisses Derek. He kisses like he means it. With his lips and his tongue he says, not for show, not for them, let’s do this for us, for real.

Derek kisses back like a weight has fallen off his shoulders. He kisses like he’s saying, yes, and finally, and thank god. When they break apart, it no longer feels scary or weird to turn around and open the door. They stand in doorway as the group crows and laughs and Stiles blushes and it’s not for show. They may not have had sex, but Stiles doesn’t feel like he and Derek really ‘faked’ anything.

Derek clasps his hand around Stiles’ and they leave together.




On Monday, a rumor quickly spreads. It’s spread by people like Erica, and Boyd, and Jackson, and Scott. It goes like this: Derek and Stiles had been pining for one another for ages. Derek had finally tried sleeping with other people to distract himself from Stiles. But Stiles couldn’t stand to see Derek with anyone else. So at Danny’s party they had gotten drunk and gotten bold. They had let down their walls enough to have super athletic sex in Danny’s spare room, which everyone could attest to. And afterwards they had realized how crazy they were for each other. Now they were going out and Derek was definitely not sleeping with anybody but Stiles.

When someone comes up to them and dares to ask Derek if the rumor is true, he shrugs, pulls Stiles a little closer to him and says “More or less.”