soldier!stiles

“You know if they’re driving you crazy, as the look on your face would imply, the seat next to me is open,” Stiles grinned. Derek cocked his eyebrow at him. “Which I’m sure you knew as you’ve been sitting in it for the past couple of minutes.” Derek smiled then, tempted. “Thanks, but if I tell them I’m ditching them to talk to a guy, my sisters will never let me hear the end of it.” “Pity,” Stiles said, “’cause I think getting some flak from your siblings would be totally worth it if I got to spend a bit more time with you.” And there it was. Stiles’ eyes – those not-brown, not-hazel eyes – flickered down from Derek’s face to his stomach, where his short-sleeved, button down shirt was undone all the way, leaving his abs exposed to the world, and Stiles’ lingering gaze. The corner of Stiles’ mouth pulled up again before he looked away, picking up his beer and taking another swig. The uncertain worry Derek held in his stomach only moments ago was replaced with uncontrollable, fluttering butterflies. Or where Derek and Stiles meet on vacation at Myrtle Beach.