Work Text:
Derek gets a call from an unknown number at 10:27am. It happens sometimes, telemarketers, and quite often for the nannying agency that’s one digit of his mobile. Today is a new one.
“Hello, this is Derek.”
“Oh, hi. Okay. Hi, I’m Stiles,” comes a surprised voice from the other end.
“Hi Stiles.”
“So, Derek, this is going to sound strange, but I’m just about to go in for a job interview in three minutes, and I had to fill out this list of references and I was short a number so I wrote down a random one, then thought I should call it to see if it was real. And it is, it’s yours.”
“So you just wrote down a random number as a reference?” Derek asks, confused and also a little amused.
“Yes, that’s right. And look, I’m going in soon, and getting this job would be really great, and so would you mind if I keep your number on the list? They probably won’t call but I--”
“Go for it,” Derek interrupts. What’s the harm in it? He can cross off that he’s done his one nice thing for the day, and this Stiles is right, he probably won’t even get a call.
“Seriously? Ah, okay that’s amazing. Thank you.”
“What’s the job?” Derek asks, grabbing a pen and paper to write it down. He’s warming up to the idea of doing this fake reference thing. It’ll be a laugh if not anything else.
“So it’s an IT position with Saris and Fehr Legal. System maintenance, software security, a bunch of stuff really, but don’t worry about it too much, I just had you down as a personal reference?”
Stiles asks it like a question, showing some nerves, and Derek realises he’s essentially admitting he doesn’t know enough people who’d give him a positive reference.
“Oh well that’s easy enough then, I’ll just say that I’ve known you for years, talk about how you’re organized, trustworthy, etcetera,” Derek’s been a reference for some of his friends before, he knows the drill.
“Ah, yeah, sounds great. Wow. You sure about this?”
“It’s fine, Stiles. It’ll make my day more interesting at any rate.”
“Wow,” Stiles repeats, clearly surprised by Derek’s immediate cooperation. “So it’s Stiles Stilinski, not sure I gave you my last name.”
“No, you didn’t,” he says, writing down Stiles’ surname phonetically. “Mine’s Hale. Derek Hale.”
“Hale,” Stiles repeats, while Derek can hear the sound of a pen moving across paper through the phone. “Alright, I’ve got to go now but thanks so much, Derek. It means a lot.”
“You’re welcome,” Derek says, smiling at how relieved Stiles sounds. “Good luck for the interview.”
___
It’s a slow day at work. Derek figures out a whole backstory for him and Stiles, stretching back to college where they met in the mock UN club, and continuing through Stiles and he joining the same community soccer team which they’re still in together.
He doesn't expect the call for another couple of days, but it ends up only being the next that another unknown number comes through on his phone.
“Hello, this is Derek.”
“Is that Derek Hale?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Hello Derek, my name is James Holden, from Saris and Fehr Legal. I’m calling in regards to your friend, Stiles.”
“Oh yeah, of course. He had his interview yesterday,” Derek he’s just remembering. He pulls the piece of paper out of his pocket with his and Stiles’ imagined history, feeling absolutely no shame in how detailed it’s gotten in the past twenty-four hours.
“That’s correct. He’s put you down as one of his personal references. Do you have a few minutes to answer some questions for us?”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
“Firstly, how did you and Stiles meet?”
“Okay, so, I met Stiles about,” pause for effect, “eight years ago at college. We had the same UXD minor.”
“Stiles didn’t mention completing a minor in UXD.”
“He wouldn’t of, he switched out after a few weeks. He was miles ahead of everyone else in the class, and if I remember right, actually ended up being a TA for the subject later on. I think Ms. Vanderlin, the teacher, still emails him occasionally.”
Derek is feeling quite pleased with his bullshitting. That wasn’t even on his page of notes.
His conversation with James only last another six minutes, but he manages to mention Stiles’ volunteer work, plus fulfilling management roles in their soccer team, as well as a personal anecdote involving a nail-gun and Stiles’ quick and logical thinking. Derek has fun.
He hangs up pleased with himself and wonders whether he can have the same thing be his nice thing of the day two days in a row.
He decides to call Stiles to let him know he’s been contacted. The decision is partially fuelled by the adrenaline he’s feeling at a job well done.
“Hello?” Stiles answers the phone.
“Hey, Stiles. It’s Derek.”
“Derek? I don’t-- Oh! Random reference guy?”
“The one and only. I hope,” Derek adds as a joke.
Stiles laughs down the line. It’s a nice laugh. “No, no. Just you.”
“Good. I called you to let you know that someone from Saris and Fehr called me just then.”
“Seriously?” Stiles asks, sounding gobsmacked. “Chasing references the day after is kind of unheard of, isn’t it?”
“Not if they like you,” Derek says with confidence.
“How do you know?”
“I interview for my own branch a lot. I know how these things go. It’s a good sign, Stiles.”
“Wow.” Stiles draws it out, obviously processing. “I hope you said good things about me then.”
“There was an amusing anecdote involving a nail-gun that painted you as the cool-headed hero, and I slipped in some stuff about volunteering and academic skill too.”
“That sounds so great. I can’t believe they called. I can’t believe you went through with it.”
“Honestly, it was fun.”
“Man, I don’t know how to thank you for this. It’s just, above and beyond.”
Derek laughs at the awe in Stiles’ voice. “How about you just let me know if you get the job.”
“Serious? You want me to keep pestering you?”
“I’m invested now,” Derek admits.
“Well okay then, Derek. I’ll let you know.”
“Good luck, Stiles.”
___
The response rate for contacting successful candidates is so varied across job to job that Derek lets it slip to the back of his mind. He doesn’t forget about it, because it’s true that he’s invested, but he does have plenty of his own real life happenings to focus on.
Almost an entire month after Stiles first contacted him, he gets a call.
“Hello, this is Derek.”
“I GOT THE JOB, I GOT THE JOB, I GOT THE JOB.”
“Stiles?”
“Oh yes, shit, sorry. Been a while. It’s Stiles. Derek, I got the job!”
“I heard, congratulations,” Derek says with real enthusiasm.
“It’s amazing. I’m walking on cloud nine, no, cloud ten, some other better cloud.” Stiles’ rambling is charming in how open it his, Stiles’ passion clear in every syllable. “You’re the first person I’ve told.”
Derek raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, I’m honoured.”
“Can I buy you a coffee or something? Pay you back, thank you finally? Send you flowers? I don’t-- What do you like? No, wait. I don’t even know where you live, shit, we may not even-- Okay, deep breaths.” Heavy, evenly paced breathing comes through the line and Derek smiles at how endearing he finds the whole thing.
“If you’re working for Saris and Fehr I assume you’re based in San Fran?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Funny thing, I’m based there too.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Not at all. In fact, my building is a few down from yours on the same street. Collins Publishing?”
“Oh. My. God.”
“I know.”
“Oh my god. We have to meet up, Derek. I need to buy you thank you coffee for being an amazing reference.”
“When’s your first day?” Derek asks, opening the calendar on his phone.
“Tuesday two weeks from now.”
“Well how about we meet on the Wednesday, and you can tell me how your first day went?”
“Sounds amazing. You probably know cool places to go around there so you can choose.”
“I can meet you in the foyer of your building if you’d like. We can go from there.”
“Sounds like a plan. I imagine I’ll get to choose when to take my lunch, so should we aim for around one?”
“Suits me.”
“Great. See you soon then. Bye.”
Derek puts their meeting in the calendar, then goes ahead and properly programs Stiles’ number into his phone, last name still spelled phonetically, not once thinking about how strange it is to have arranged a coffee date with someone he’s never actually met.
___
Like with the phone call, Derek tries to push his meeting with Stiles to the back of his mind, but it has a way of sneaking up on him. He finds himself a little nervous, but mostly excited to meet the guy who thought the answer to not having enough numbers to fill in his reference list was to write down a made-up one.
He’s standing in the Saris and Fehr foyer at 12:57 and texts Stiles to let him know he’s there.
Less than a minute later, a slender brunette exits the lifts, and starts surveying the lobby. Derek’s pretty sure he’s seeing Stiles, and if he is, dear lord. Stiles is attractive, with hair and physique that make him exactly Derek’s type, and the glasses only add to his appeal, as do the tailored pants.
Derek smiles and makes his way over.
He sees the exact moment Stiles realises he’s being approached, because his head does an obvious double take, and then he looks Derek up and down, his eyes widening. Derek is pleased.
“Derek?” Stiles voice sounds deeper in person.
“Yes. Stiles, I assume?”
“That’s me,” Stiles says, blinking slowly, eyes still running over Derek’s body. He seems to catch himself though, because he laughs, and explains, “Sorry. You just aren’t what I pictured.”
“Neither are you,” Derek offers.
“Right, so, now that that’s out of the way, where’s good for coffee here? I had a crap sleep the other night worrying about starting this job and I’m still catching it up.”
Stiles talks like they’re already friends and it is immediately a comfort.
“You don’t look it at all,” Derek offers. Stiles smiles and ducks his head. Is there anything about this man Derek won’t find attractive?
The answer is a resounding ‘no’ which Derek can confirm a few minutes after having arrived at the coffee shop. Stiles insists on paying for Derek’s coffee and gets them both pastries as well. Derek finds them a two-person table along the side of the shop, and Stiles joins him with their food.
“So before anything else,” Stiles says before even sitting down, “I just want to say thank you again. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
Derek drags one of the plates toward him. He notices Stiles eyeing it, so breaks it in half, doing the same with the other so they get a bit of each flavour. Stiles smiles appreciatively at him.
“I hear we play soccer together?”
“Yeah, for a few years now. Hold on.” Derek reaches for his wallet and flicks through the slips of paper he has in there, reminders for this and that thing to do, before he finds the one he was looking for. He smooths it out and hands it over to Stiles as their drinks arrive.
“What’s this?”
“Our backstory.”
Stiles raises his eyebrows. “This is like a full page of writing. Hand-written,” Stiles points out.
Derek shrugs. “Like I said. I got invested.”
“I’ll say.”
“Read through it, you might need it if someone asks at work.”
“You sure? I don’t want to ignore you after dragging you out here so I could buy you that.” Stiles gestures to the coffee he ordered for Derek.
“It’s fine. I need validation anyway, and you’re the only one who can appreciate this the right way.”
“Well, in that case.” Stiles smiles and starts reading through the document. Derek picks up his coffee and watches Stiles’. Every now and then he’ll smile, or laugh, and Derek feels a little less like a stranger to Stiles, and a lot more like he wants to be much more.
“You made the lecturer email me for advice? That’s great.”
“Ooh, I would not have been in mock UN. I’m horrible at debating.”
“I actually do speak two languages, though probably a gamble to include if I’m being honest.”
At the nail-gun anecdote, Stiles laughs for almost half a minute, while miming to Derek. The lady sitting next to them looks over twice but Derek doesn’t care.
Near the bottom of the page, Stiles stops, blinks, then takes his glasses off to re-read a line, bringing the page closer to his face. Unobstructed, his eyes are beautifully coloured.
“You, uh, assumed a little there, Derek.”
Derek knows to what he’s referring.
“They didn’t ask that, if I assumed wrong. They’re not allowed to anyway. It’s illegal.”
“It’s-- It’s not wrong,” Stiles says, cleaning his glasses with a spare napkin and not making eye-contact with Derek. “So why is it on the paper?”
“No real reason other than that you intrigued me. Made me laugh. You seemed refreshingly optimistic on the phone.”
“So humour, a sunny disposition, and an air of mystery is what it takes to get a date with you?”
“In college it was, yeah.”
Stiles looks at Derek, head tilted. “And now?”
“I think you’d need to do something really outrageous. Like be a stranger and randomly phone me and ask for a favour.”
“I already did that,” Stiles points out in a teasing tone.
“Right you are. So, Stiles.” Derek leans a little across the table. “Would you like to go out with me sometime?”
Stiles bites his lip. Like so many of his other gestures today, it’s endearing. Also, a turn-on. Derek waits him out, but he doesn't think he’s read Stiles’ interest wrong.
“Yes. I’ll go out with you.”
___
Four months later the “dated for four months” part of Derek’s backstory becomes a truth. Derek never can convince Stiles to play soccer with him, but after the Frisbee incident he stops trying.