The special collections for anthropology and history at the university library are some of the best in the state. Stiles knows he’s very lucky to get the chance to work in them while he’s going to grad school, so he’s treating it like a professional. He’s got his masters already with a certification in special collections, though his actual focus is a combination of rare book conservation and research. He’s really into technology, lives off his laptop and smartphone, but there’s something about old books and the information available in them that has always sparked his interest. His mom had been an antique book collector, though she’d bought what was cheap since she couldn’t afford the real expensive stuff, and he’d inherited her collection when she died nearly fifteen years ago.

Stiles has taken the collection and made it grow, using the internet to locate rare books in subjects that appeal to him, and learning the tricks of the trade. He’s actually been able to pay his way through the college collecting fees for locating particular books for interested parties and arranging sales. It’s fun, almost like investigative work, and he can do it easily around his school schedule. His goal after he gets his PhD is to work in the special collections at a university or possibly a museum, but he’s a realist. Jobs like that aren’t easy to find, so this opportunity to work here is going to give him a step up above a lot of his competition.

That means he has to take his job very seriously. Serious translates into not getting a crush on a fellow grad student who comes in daily for hours to review texts and files on folklore. Not even grad students with a perpetual five o’clock shadow and the most adorable bunny teeth and glasses that actually look good on him unlike Stiles who knows he can’t carry off his own glasses so well. That’s not even going into the well-built shoulders and biceps evident when he’s reaching for books on higher shelves (okay, so, yes, maybe Stiles has creeped on him outside of special collections) or that amazing ass that’s evident whenever he bends over to get something on the lower shelves. Stiles can’t even come up with the right words to describe his eyes or the smile that makes his eyes crinkle whenever Stiles manages to make him laugh. Beyond the physical, he’s also very intelligent, very polite, and his voice does things to Stiles.

It’s just his luck that he’s Pining (with a capital P) for a patron just a few months into the job. And Derek, aka hot grad student, is totally not interested at all. When they first met, Derek had blushed every time Stiles looked at him, so there’d been a little hope that maybe he’d somehow managed to attract someone totally unattainable. The blushing continued, hell it still does, but he knows it’s not because of him. He already tried and struck out. The one time Stiles worked up the courage to suggest going for coffee after work, Derek’s ears had turned red and he’d left without even bothering to tell him no. Just packed up and took off as Stiles stood gawking at him. That outright refusal hasn’t done anything about his pining, though. He spent about six years crushing on Lydia back in middle and high school, so Stiles is a long-term crusher when he falls.

And he’s definitely fallen.

“Stiles, can I get this book?” Derek pulls him out of his thoughts as he pushes a piece of paper across the desk. The title and author and code are written in Derek’s neat block writing. Even his handwriting his pretty.

“Yeah, I’ll get it for you. It’s one of the older ones, so use protection.” Stiles winks at him as he walks around the desk. If he walks so close to Derek that he can feel body heat and the brush of fabric against his arm, well, it’s simply an accident, of course. He’s obviously a masochist, since he takes any casual touch and stores it away to think about later.

When he comes back with the book, Derek is sitting at his usual table, biting his lip and staring into space. He looks up when Stiles approaches and his cheeks turn red. His glasses are on the table, so there’s nothing blocking the full force of his beautiful eyes. “Thank you,” he murmurs, ducking his head shyly when Stiles puts the book down. He’s wearing the required gloves when he opens the book, his fingers delicately brushing across the text as he scans it for whatever information he’s looking for.

“This one is really interesting.” Stiles clears his throat when he hears how squeaky he sounds. He reaches out to touch the page, rubbing his thumb against it. If he moves his body ever so slightly to the left, he knows he could be touching Derek, could be pressing against his shoulder, but Stiles is a respectful guy, and Derek said no to coffee. He’s got to accept that and be content with what he can get. When Derek shifts into his space, though, he doesn’t do anything to move away. Respectful but not stupid. “See how the paper is made? If this one ever starts to ruin, it won’t be easy to conserve it. It’s really sad how much knowledge has been lost to the elements or time.”

Derek is staring at Stiles’ hand and doesn’t really seem to be listening. His lips are parted like he’s lost in thought, which makes sense considering most people don’t give a damn when Stiles talks about old books. He starts to pull his hand away when Derek reaches out to touch the spot he’s been rubbing. Their fingers brush against each other, the gloves preventing direct skin contact but, still, it’s enough to make Stiles’ brain short circuit for a moment. Derek looks up at him, long lashes fluttering like he’s got something in his eye, and he says, “It’s hard.”

Stiles blinks stupidly down at him because his mind just took that to a very not safe for work place. He lets go of the page and forces a crooked smile. “Yeah, the product they used for making paper back then is harder than what we use today.” He pulls his gloves off, tucking them into his back pocket before he takes his glasses off so he can rub his nose. “Well, uh, let me know if you need anything else.”

For a moment, Derek looks like he’s going to say something but he closes his mouth and looks down at the book, his shoulders sagging slightly as he sighs. “Thanks, Stiles.”

“Anytime, buddy.” Stiles goes back to his desk and sits down, opening his own research text so he can try to force himself to get something done during his down time. All he gets done is sneaking looks at Derek and occasionally catching Derek staring at him. He smiles during those times, just in case it’s actually at him and not just staring into space, and every single time Derek looks down quickly and gets back to work.

There’s a buzzing sound disturbing the quiet room. Derek picks up his phone and reads the text that came in. If it’s possible, he seems to blush even more than usual. Great. Probably a girlfriend or boyfriend, someone he does want to get coffee with and date. Someone who isn’t Stiles. He answers the text then puts his phone down, seeming to square his shoulders and take a few deep breaths before he stands up and walks over to Stiles. “You know, you shouldn’t frown.”

“Oh?” Stiles is surprised by the randomness of the comment and arches a brow. “I didn’t even realize I was frowning.”

“Uh, well, you, um, you never know who might be falling in love with your smile,” Derek says so quickly that Stiles’ brain takes a minute to catch up. By the time he does, Derek is gone. He’s left his stuff, so he must have to get a different book from elsewhere, and Stiles really wishes he hadn’t left because he’s trying to decide what that whole smile thing means.

When Derek comes back, he avoids Stiles’ desk and goes immediately to his table. He types something into his phone, reading whatever the response says with a shake of his head. Stiles gets up and walks over to him. “So, my smile?” he asks hesitantly, not about to get his hopes up when he’s been there, done that, got the no coffee date with Derek t-shirt already.

Derek looks up at him with wide eyes. “I, uh, went to look at the dictionary?”

He says it almost like a question, so Stiles doesn’t really understand. “We have one in here, you know? It’s in my desk. Did you need something?”

“No.” Derek shakes his head and puts his glasses back on. He takes a deep breath and looks away from Stiles. “There isn’t a word in there for how good you look.”

Stiles barks out a laugh, which is obviously the wrong response because Derek shoves his stuff into his bag and is gone before he can say anything. Stiles pushes his glasses out of the way so he can drag his hands down his face. “What the fuck,” he mutters to the now empty room.

The next day, Derek doesn’t show up. Stiles keeps expecting him, looking at the door every time someone approaches it, but nothing. He’s off on the weekend, so that means it’s going to be Monday before he sees Derek and can try finding out if he was joking or just really bad at flirting. Over the weekend, he spends time with Scott and Kira, his best friends, who commiserate and listen to him ramble about Derek, like usual, and Kira seems to think Derek’s interested but Scott keeps telling Stiles not to get his hopes up because he doesn’t want him to get hurt.

Scott’s probably right. Stiles is getting too excited over a couple of bad pick-up lines that are either a joke or weren’t intended to even sound like pick-up lines. While Stiles is guilty of slipping in some innuendo and making a few inappropriate jokes sometimes, Derek never has before, so he’s probably just trying to give it back to Stiles a little. Stiles has probably made him uncomfortable, and that’s why he skipped his usual Friday visit. Stiles has become that guy, the asshole who keeps flirting and won’t take no for an answer. And, sure, he likes to think about dating Derek, sometimes wonders what they might call name their adopted kids, but he isn’t going to risk their friendship for his crush.

On Monday, he’s so relieved to Derek coming in that he can’t stop himself from grinning. “Hey you.”

“Hey.” Derek nods at him, ears already turning red. He lingers at Stiles’ desk for several heartbeats then he walks on over to his table.

“I missed you on Friday,” Stiles admits, picking up the book he brought in with him this morning to help Derek with his research. He’s decided he isn’t going to mention the weirdness on Thursday afternoon because it’s easier to ignore it than find out it really was just a joke.

“Oh.” Derek looks up, eyes wide behind his lenses. “It was my younger sister’s birthday. We drove down to visit some friends of hers.”

“That’s Cora, right?” Stiles is pleased to see Derek’s crooked smile appear. “Laura’s the oldest one who likes to meddle in your life, and both brothers are older than all three of you.”

“I can’t believe you remember that.” Derek just stares at him.

“I remember everything you tell me,” Stiles says honestly, meeting his gaze for a moment before he looks away. “I found this book to help your research. It’s not from the library, so you can actually take it with you, if you want. I mean, I bought it for you, as a gift. A friendly gift because we’re friends. Aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are.” Derek’s tone is firm even as his expression looks wistful suddenly. “Just friends.” He opens the book carefully and strokes his fingers over the pages. “This is old, isn’t it? The paper and the ink look like the one you showed me from the eighteenth century.”

Stiles nods, grinning as he looks at Derek. “Talk about a good memory. Most people just tune me out when I start talking about book printing history.”

“I always listen to you.” Derek looks up at him then, and Stiles swears his gaze drops to his lips. “You’re fascinating.” The blush is back and so is the ducking head, so mixed signals are a go yet again. “But you shouldn’t have bought me this book. I know how expensive it must be, and you’re a grad student.”

“I traded for it, actually.” Stiles reaches over and ghosts his hand by Derek’s face, clenching his fingers and pulling his arm back when he realizes he almost touched without permission. “I saw it on an auction I was following and knew it would be great help for your dissertation. The seller was willing to work with me. But, uh, I probably would have bought it anyway, if I hadn’t been able to work out a deal.”

Derek looks up at him and smiles, the big smile that makes his eyes crinkle. “Thank you, Stiles. It means a lot.”

“Did the sun come out or did you just smile at me?” Stiles knows how corny that line is, but it’s also so true that he can’t help but say it. He runs his fingers through his hair and takes a step back from the table. “I, uh, there are books. Waiting for me. I need to go work. Now.”

“I’ll find you if I need anything,” Derek promises, a slight smile on his lips as Stiles rubs the back of his neck and runs away. Because that’s totally what he’s doing. Running away and hiding in the books because he’s a loser who keeps wanting what he can’t have. When he gets to the back of the collection, where all the oldest books are kept, he just leans his head against the wall and breathes in the comforting smell of paper and ink and oldness that he can’t really describe. Then he starts banging his head again the wall, lightly but still just hard enough to try to knock some sense into him.

After taking far too long chastising himself for being an idiot, he focuses on doing his actual job. They got a donation last week that needs properly evaluated and catalogued, and Mrs. Hooper has given the assignment to Stiles. He loses himself in his work, excited about the new discoveries he’s making as he examines the rare books and articles that accompany them. It isn’t until he hears Derek calling his name that he realizes he’s been back here a long time.

When he walks back out front, he sneezes from the dust in the air and takes off his formerly white gloves. They aren’t white any longer, not with the condition of some of their donations. “Wow. It’s late, isn’t it?” He looks at his phone when he sees Derek has all his stuff packed up and is about to leave. “Sorry about that. I got busy.”

“You were working. It’s alright. I didn’t need anything anyway. That book you got me is amazing.” Derek is worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and staring at Stiles’ face. Hesitantly, he reaches out and rubs his thumb down the curve of Stiles’ cheek. “You, uh, there was a, um, smudge.”

“Okay.” Stiles is happy he managed to get even one word out after feeling the warmth of Derek’s skin against his. He can feel the tiny hairs on the back of Derek’s knuckles brush against his jaw, and he unconsciously leans into the touch. Derek’s eyes are focused on his mouth, and Stiles licks his lips because he thinks maybe it isn’t just his wishful thinking right now.

Then the buzzing of Derek’s phone ruins the moment. Derek blinks and immediately pulls his hand away, looking embarrassed and adorably shy as he fumbles with his phone. He reads the text message and makes a face before putting the phone back in his pocket. Steeling himself, he looks back at Stiles. “I hope you know CPR because you’re taking my breath away,” he murmurs, blushing as he clenches his hands around the strap of his book bag.

Stiles grins. “You’re in luck because I do. Certified and everything.”

Derek blinks at him, parting his lips like he’s going to reply, but then he’s running away again, not even saying goodbye. He leaves Stiles standing there with the feeling of fingers still tingling on his jaw and a disappointed expression on his face. If he’s trying to flirt, doesn’t he know that you have to actually stick around to find out if it’s working?

The next day, Derek’s back, and he acts like they didn’t have a moment together last night. Stiles has to follow his lead, even if this mixed signals thing is giving him a headache. It’s been a rough morning already because his alarm didn’t go off, then he forgot his glasses, and this whole pining for Derek thing is distracting him from his own dissertation. He’s kind of cranky, so he just goes to the back to keep working on his project and leaves Derek to his research.

For the next couple of days, this is their new routine. It isn’t really awkward, since they do speak and Stiles even teases some, but there’s a tension that hasn’t been there before. And every evening before Derek leaves, he gets a text that has him making faces and then he’s using a corny pick-up line on Stiles and rushing out of the room before Stiles can even respond.

By Friday, Stiles is pretty well over it. It’s been over a week now with this shift in things between them, and it hasn’t been a good shift. He’s still pathetically smitten and pining like an idiot, and Derek’s still blushing and staring and shyly avoiding his gaze in what shouldn’t be adorable but is even at the same time it’s frustrating as hell. Derek’s older than he is by several years. He’s come back to get his doctorate so he can pursue his dream of writing a book or two, and he’s hot like fire and smarter than almost everyone else Stiles has ever met and he’s so sweet that it hurts to think about.

The thing is, he has to know how Stiles feels, even without the rejected offer for a coffee date that first week, because Stiles is not subtle. He’s so obvious it’s ridiculous, and he isn’t smooth or charming or even much of a catch, really, since he’s a cynical asshole a lot of the time, but he thinks he’d be good for Derek who might need a little sarcasm in his life. Stiles decides that today’s the day he’s going to rip the Band-Aid off his crush and just go for it so he can start to heal and eventually move on. He’s totally going to do it as soon as Derek shows up.

That vow lasts until Derek does show up, wearing a soft sweater with thumbholes (seriously? C’mon!) and a pair of jeans that makes his ass look even more banging than usual. Stiles just stares at him because, fuck, it looks like he’s dressed for a casual date with someone he loves and not research. Thinking about Derek rushing through his research today so he can go meet some gorgeous creature for a date makes Stiles’ heart hurt. The sweater looks so soft, too, and his fingers are itching to touch. He barely listens, for once, when Derek tells him about the information he’s been able to get from the book Stiles bought him, looking so excited and happy that all Stiles wants to do is kiss him.

“That’s great, Derek. Sounds like you’re making a lot of headway,” he says finally, shaking his head slightly and forcing a smile. “I’ll leave you to it. I’ve got more cataloging to do, and I’m sure you prefer working in silence anyway.”

“I don’t,” Derek admits, his happy smile fading slightly. “It’s quiet when you’re here, but it’s a good kind of quiet. I don’t really like it much when you work in the back.”

“I can’t bring it out here to do,” Stiles murmurs, licking his lips and staring at Derek’s mouth for a beat too long to be accidental. Fuck. He runs his fingers through his hair. “If you need me, just call out for me, okay?”

Derek’s shoulders slump but he nods. “Okay, Stiles.”

Stiles goes to hide in his work because he’s a cowardly coward who cowards. Band-aid, shchmandaid. He can’t risk making things so awkward that Derek doesn’t feel comfortable coming in to do his research or even goes to Mrs. Hooper to complain about Stiles pressuring him. He works for a few hours, losing him in the texts he’s cataloguing more than once, before he decides to take a break to check on Derek. When he goes back to the room, Derek isn’t alone.

Well, hello, jealousy. Not nice to meet you.

“Stiles!” Derek looks up with a flushed face, gorgeous eyes wide and lips parted. The woman with him has dark hair flowing down her back and, when she turns to look at Stiles, he sees that she’s even more beautiful than he’s expecting. Of course Derek’s found someone equal to him in looks. It shouldn’t be a surprise.

“I just thought I’d make sure you were doing alright, but I see that you’re busy. Please make sure your friend follows the rules if she’s going to be touching the merchandising,” Stiles recites with as little emotion as possible because he’s fighting the urge to go home and eat ice cream and watch action movies with lots of things being blown up as he cries into the ice cream right now.

“Trust me, cutie. I won’t be touching the ‘merchandise’,” the woman says, making the word into an innuendo that has Derek groaning and covering his face. “So, you’re the famous Stiles. I’ve heard so much about you, but he never said how gorgeous you are. I wonder why that is, Derek?”

“Laura, go away,” Derek growls softly, and, for a moment, Stiles swears that his eyes change colors. They must have a short in the lighting or something.

“Wait. Laura? Sister Laura? Not girlfriend Laura?” Stiles feels a tension lift from his shoulders as he looks at her a lot friendlier now. “Gorgeous, huh? Do you need glasses or does flattery usually get you what you want?”

Laura laughs. “Oh, he’s a keeper, Der-bear. If you don’t finally put a lock on it, I might have to Cougar his hot ass,” she says, waggling her eyebrows. “I have excellent eyesight, as does my entire family. Derek likes to be a dork and wears glasses because he thinks they can keep him safe from leering pushy people, but he doesn’t realize they just make him more attractive.”

“I’m telling Mom if you don’t leave right now,” Derek threatens, and, oddly enough, the threat seems to work because Laura looks like she doesn’t want their mom to know at all.

“You’re no fun. Anyway, I was being a supportive big sister by dropping by to check on your and see if you’d made your move yet.” Laura feigns surprise. “Oops! I didn’t mean to say that.”

“He’s obviously making his move tonight,” Stiles points out, trying not to sound bitter and jealous. “He’s dressed for a casual date, so he’s probably meeting someone when he finishes up here.”

Laura just stares at him before she looks at Derek. “I’m so sorry for not believing you, Derek. I didn’t think anyone but you could possibly be that oblivious. Forgive me?”

“Go away, Laura.” Derek tugs on his hair nervously and gives her a dirty look. “You aren’t making this any better at all.”

“I’m just trying to help!” Laura sashays around the table, swinging her hips in a way that might capture Stiles’ attention if he weren’t such a goner on her brother. When she reaches him, she smiles. “Do you know what his shirt is made of, Stiles?”

He arches a brow. “Um, maybe cashmere? It looks really soft.”

“Oh God. You’re so adorable I could eat you up.” Laura rolls her eyes and looks at the ceiling. “Give me patience for dealing with two men who are far too old to be this stupid,” she mutters before focusing her attention back on him. “No, it’s made of boyfriend material.” She winks at him before leaving the room.

Derek is cradling his forehead in his palms, his elbows on the table, and there’s so much tension in his shoulders that Stiles can see it from here. Stiles slowly walks over to his table. “I’m guessing that text messages were from her, huh?”

“What?” Derek looks up at him and blinks.

“You’d get a text and then look put upon before you’d try one of the corny pick-up lines on me. Was she making you do it?” he asks quietly, sitting on the edge of the table near Derek. “Was it some kind of joke or something? You told her I had a thing for you, had a laugh over it, and decided to be cruel with the whole mixed signals thing?”

“You have a thing for me?” Derek drops his arms on the table and raises his head. “Since when? And, no, I’d never try hurting you like that. You should know that.”

“Since forever?” Stiles snorts. “I asked you out for a coffee date the first week we met, Derek. Do you think I randomly ask out men for coffee unless I’m into them?”

Derek sighs and shakes his head. “You surprised me and I panicked because I thought you could tell I was, uh, attracted to you. Then you never asked again, so I thought I’d missed my chance.”

“You could have asked me. It’s been months.” Stiles studies his face. “You’re attracted to me? Really?”

“I like librarians.” Derek’s ears are turning red as he speaks. “I like glasses, a lot. Librarians in glasses is a deadly combination.”

“So it’s some kind of librarian kink then?” Stiles is curling his fingers into his palm, just enough to feel his nails against his skin.

“No!” Derek rolls his eyes. “Librarians in glasses with hipster wardrobes and moles and long fingers that distract me so much it’s ridiculous and full lips that make me think dirty thoughts. That’s my kink.”

“Oh.” Stiles ducks his head and smiles slightly. “That’s a pretty specific kink there.”

“I know.” Derek makes a face. “Laura figured it out weeks ago, and she’s been pushing me to make a move. The lines were her idea, and she’d text me with threats to make sure I’d say them. Since she’d know if I was lying, I had to do it.”

“Did you not want to pick me up?” Stiles asks, moving his hands slowly across the table until his fingers are brushing against the soft material of Derek’s shirt.

“I did.” Derek looks at him. “I do. I’m just not very good at this dating thing. If I’m really into someone, I turn into this shy and awkward dork who can’t even flirt.”

“Wow. You must really be into me then,” Stiles teases, reaching out to cup Derek’s face before he can reply. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Derek gulps and licks his lips, staring up at Stiles with those beautiful eyes practically sparkling. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Stiles leans down and presses their lips together, keeping it sweet and chaste because they’ve got all the time in the world for rough and wild or thorough or absolutely filthy. Their noses bump together as they kiss, and he feels Derek’s fingers in his hair, gripping it as he pulls Stiles’ head down even more. There’s the barest touch of tongues, just a quick lick or two, and then they’re pulling apart and just staring at each other. “I’ve wanted to do that for months.”

“Me too.” Derek smiles shyly as he traces Stiles’ lips with his fingers. “Would you like to go out for dinner after work tonight?”

“Hell yeah.” Stiles grins before nipping at the end of Derek’s fingers.

“You do realize that Laura is going to be insufferable about this, don’t you?” Derek huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “Probably even take all the credit.”

“Eh, let her. I mean, she was right about one thing, after all,” Stiles points out, leaning down to ghost his lips over Derek’s. “Your sweater is definitely made of boyfriend material.” Derek just groans before leaning up to kiss him again.