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Stiles thought, sometimes, that the werewolves in his life took it a bit for granted that he - unlike them - was human. It showed in little ways a lot of the time; in ways most people wouldn’t pick up on.
Like the way Erica often forgot her new super-strength - and forgot Stiles didn’t share it - and would jump on him and expect him to catch her when really they just both wound up on the floor with Erica laughing and Stiles groaning and writhing in pain. Or how she would play-punch in a way that was anything but playful, at least for a human.
Or the way Scott, Isaac, Jackson, and Boyd would try to drag Stiles into their games - games of tag where he couldn’t hope to keep up, or playful fighting where Stiles had to shriek and dance away from claws he wouldn’t heal from, or hide-n-seek that was more like run-and-be-hunted for Stiles because he couldn’t track a werewolf but a werewolf could damned sure track him. And sure, Stiles appreciated that they wanted to include him in the pack bonding and all, but he was breakable and it was a little frustrating that they never seemed to remember that fact.
Unless, of course, a big-bad was in town, in which case it was All Hands On Deck to protect poor, human Stiles.
Derek was the only one who never forgot that Stiles was human. The Alpha werewolf was always the first to point out Stiles’ fragility and slow healing; his inferior strength and speed and reflexes; his muted senses. It might have annoyed Stiles from time-to-time, but it was also a nearly endless source of amusement for one small, seemingly insignificant reason.
Derek had never been human.
Which was to say, he had a very limited - and at times very wrong - perception of what it meant to be human. For instance, he didn’t understand the difference between, 'I sneezed because there’s a lot of dust in here.' and 'I sneezed because your down comforter is full of feathers, Sourwolf, and I’m allergic.' and 'I sneezed because I’m sick and miserable and I just want to curl up for the next week until I’m better.' and 'I sneezed because Isaac threw the contents of an entire packet of pepper from McDonalds at my face because your beta is a scarf-wearing douche.' Every time Stiles sneezed, or coughed, or made a pained noise, Derek was immediately convinced Stiles was dying due to his inferior healing. It was a little sweet, and a little annoying, and mostly funny as hell because the betas - excepting Cora - had all been human once. And Cora seemed more inclined to take her cues from Scott than Derek, in regards to Stiles’ overall physical well-being so she wasn’t nearly as funny as Derek.
The best way in which Derek - and yes, Cora too - misconstrued Stiles’ capabilities as a human was in their perception of his dull human senses. It seemed to Stiles that Derek was convinced that can’t hear as well as me meant something similar to practically deaf. True, the werewolf wasn’t shouting at Stiles to make himself heard when he was just a few feet away, but he did seem to believe that if he lowered his voice just a little or if he moved more than ten feet away from Stiles - or if he was out of Stiles’ line of sight - then Stiles couldn’t possibly hear him. The last one sort of baffled him, because it wasn’t like stepping though the doorway into the kitchen was going to create a mystical sound-stopping barrier or something, but Stiles had no intention of correcting Derek - or Cora’s - misconception on what he could and couldn’t hear.
No, it was far too much fun to eavesdrop without having to put in any actual effort. Derek just made it so easy.
If Derek knew that half the time when Stiles showed up to a fight he’d been benched on, it was because he’d overheard Derek saying where the showdown was happening…well, he’d miss a lot more fights and half the pack would probably be dead.
If Derek knew that the reason Stiles now baked for pack meetings was because he‘d heard Cora teasing Derek for his sweet tooth, despite her pulling him a few feet away before doing so, Stiles was certain Derek wouldn’t help himself to the sweets in question. Which would entirely defeat the purpose of Stiles having baked them, so. Telling Derek was obviously out of the question.
If Derek ever figured out that Stiles could totally hear him when he chastised the betas for forgetting that Stiles was breakable, well…Stiles wasn’t sure what might happen, except that it would be upsetting. Because when Derek told the betas off, he would point out how valuable Stiles was to their pack, and how important, and remind the betas that Stiles was to be protected. And every now and then - like after Stiles had been turned down by his latest crush or when college coursework was really weighing him down or when he was just having a shitty day - it was really nice to hear those things. Especially when Stiles knew Derek didn’t know he was listening, because it meant Derek wasn’t saying them to try to make Stiles feel better. He was saying them because he meant them.
And yeah, sometimes Stiles felt a little guilty for the things he overheard, but he would never use them against Derek. If anything, he did his best to use the things he learned for good.
Like when Cora followed a tense and snarling Derek into the bathroom during a particularly late research session, after Derek had bared his fangs at Stiles for seemingly no reason. Stiles pretended with everything in him that he hadn’t heard Derek crying; that he hadn’t heard Cora telling him she was hurting too, because Laura’s birthday was like an open wound with her gone and she understood Derek’s mood but taking it out on poor Stiles wasn’t fair. And when Derek came back out and gruffly apologized, Stiles pretended to believe his excuse about the full moon even though it was over a week away, just like he pretended not to notice Derek’s red-rimmed eyes or the way Cora’s cheeks were still streaked with tear-tracks.
And if Stiles went home and snuck another look at the Hale Fire file so he could memorize everyone’s birthdays, and the date of the fire, and Derek and Cora’s parents’ wedding anniversary, and every other date that seemed like it might matter…well, that was no one’s business but his. Just like it was no one’s business if, on those days, Stiles made sure to bake Derek’s favorite chocolate-peanut-butter-brownies and did his best to keep things low-stress and drama-free with the rest of the pack. Because Derek had been through so much and it was the least Stiles - or anyone - could do.
So when a pack meeting/movie night happened - at the start of the summer between Stiles’ sophomore and junior years of college - and Cora kept giving Derek funny looks and eyebrow-signals the whole time, Stiles waited for the opportune moment to present itself. It finally did, when Cora all but dragged Derek into the kitchen, demanding he help her make more popcorn. Stiles quickly switched seats with Isaac - done easily enough with a promise of freshly baked cookies the next day - so that he was as close to the kitchen as he could be without it seeming too suspicious.
And yes, even with the pack squabbling over what movie they were going to watch next, if Stiles strained his ears he could just pick up on Derek and Cora’s conversation in the next room. Not every word, of course, but enough.
‘…need…tell him…’ Cora’s tone was exasperated, like they’d had this conversation before. Possibly more than once. ‘…whole pack can smell…not a secret…likes you too…tell him myself if-’
‘Don’t…’ Derek’s voice was lower than Cora’s, but not angry. It was sad, and hurt, and maybe a little resigned. Stiles wished he could hear more than every few words; wished he could hear everything because his mind wasn’t capable of filling in the blanks without more information that Stiles currently had. ‘I can’t…doesn’t feel…not ready…too risky…’
That, apparently, made Cora mad. Her voice got a little louder - not a yell, not by any means, but enough for Stiles to catch it better. ‘I know you were hurt, Der, but you can’t possibly think Stiles would ever do that to you. I know you’re not that stupid.’
And Derek’s voice rose as well, though it sounded more like desperation than anger, and Stiles noted dimly that the rest of the pack had gone silent and he wondered if they were listening in as well; wondered if they realized he could heard what they were hearing, albeit not as easily.
‘There’s a difference between not trying to hurt me and not hurting me. I’m okay with just having him as pack and a friend. Asking for more is a risk. I can’t…if he said no, however gently…’ There was a pause, wherein the only thing Stiles could hear was his heart trying to break out of his chest with its frantic rhythm, and then Derek was speaking again. ‘Let it go, Cora. Please.’
After a long moment, Cora sighed. ‘Okay. I’m sorry. I promise not to bug you about it, or tell Stiles.’
Except, of course, that Stiles already knew. Because the stupid born werewolves in the kitchen kept underestimating his ability to hear shit being said ten feet away. Which was a little insulting, the more Stiles thought about it, though his pride was a little appeased when Derek and Cora came out of the kitchen and Cora winked at him. Because apparently Derek was actually the only one too stupid to realize Stiles could hear them. And now everyone knew that Stiles knew that Derek…what? Liked him? Wanted…wanted to date him, or be with him, or…or loved him? Maybe? It was all a little vague, and blurry, and uncertain in Stiles’ mind.
He wondered if he’d heard any of that at all. Or if he’d heard it correctly. Or if he was understanding what he’d heard. Because a world in which Derek Hale wanted Stiles didn’t make a whole lot of sense to him.
Even though Derek did always try to protect Stiles first. And even though Derek did sit next to Stiles at most pack meetings. And even though Derek laughed at Stiles’ jokes, and talked about obscure trivia with Stiles, and always picked up when Stiles called him. Even though Stiles knew Derek didn’t text much, except that he texted Stiles all the time. And the rest of the pack often grumbled about Derek’s failure to stay in touch regularly when they were all off at school but Stiles couldn’t remember the last time he went more than twelve hours without a text or phone call from the alpha werewolf. And it wasn’t just that Stiles knew all of Derek’s favorite foods, but that Derek knew those things about Stiles too and had even been known to growl and flash his eyes at anyone trying to eat/drink the last of something Stiles liked best.
“Holy shit…”
Stiles flushed when the whole pack turned to stare at him, but Stiles couldn’t bring himself to care because he was busy having a freakin’ revelation. Derek liked him. As in, like-liked. Which sounded juvenile, even in Stiles’ own mind, so there was no way he was saying it out loud, obviously. But it was true. And Stiles had to figure out what the hell to do with that information, because obviously he liked Derek, too. Loved him, really. Stiles wasn’t sure when that scale had tipped all the way over, mind you, but at some point it had. He had fallen in love with Derek Hale and it had been terrifying, and Stiles been left with a growing certainty that Derek was out of his league and it was best not to even try because it might fuck up their friendship or things with the pack.
Having his entire world-view shift the way it just had was a bit unnerving. He needed a minute to adjust. Stiles glared at the pack until they turned back to whatever movie they’d picked next - Stiles had no idea what it was - then he went back to his internal panic attack. He could feel Derek’s eyes on him - he wondered now how he’d ever not noticed Derek staring at him - but Stiles ignored him in favor of trying to remember how to breathe.
And when the pack cleared out - everyone, even Cora - Stiles was left with Derek, and an empty loft, and knowledge he wasn’t supposed to have and wasn’t sure what to do with.
“Planning to stay the night?” Derek’s tone was teasing; light; friendly. Stiles wondered how he managed to keep it that way, given his feelings. He wondered how Derek kept it all under wraps, because Stiles felt ready to vibrate out of his own skin with the need to act on his newfound knowledge. Wondered if Derek could possibly be that uncertain of Stiles feelings for him, that his fear would hold him back.
Swallowing down his own fear that maybe he was reading this whole thing wrong, despite all the evidence, Stiles said hoarsely. “I can. Since you want me to. You do want me to, don’t you, Der?”
Derek spun around from where he’d been cleaning up some of the detritus the pack always left behind, eyes wide and wild and fearful. He stared at Stiles with something like horror on his face, cheeks and ears going from pink to red in a few seconds, eyes flicking desperately between Stiles and the door like maybe he was thinking about running away.
“I…wh-why…” Stiles had never heard Derek stutter before. It was almost endearing. “St-stiles, I don’t…I…wh-what are you…”
“I’m not deaf.” Stiles broke in at last, because he was feeling generous all of a sudden. He thought it probably had to do with his growing certainty that Derek did have feelings for him.
Derek made a confused sound and Stiles’ lips twitched up into a smile that was a little bit wicked and a little bit sympathetic. “I know I can’t hear as well as a werewolf, but I’m not deaf. If you go into the bathroom, or the kitchen, or sometimes even upstairs…I can hear you. Maybe not perfectly, but well enough to get the gist of what you’re saying.”
“Oh my god.” All of the color had drained out of Derek’s face and Stiles made a sound of concern when the werewolf swayed on his feet.
“Hey, hey…” Stiles reached out and cupped Derek’s face in his hands, taking a second to appreciate the softness of Derek’s short beard against his palms. “I love you. Okay? So whatever horrible possibilities are going through your head right now, no. Because I love you. So.”
And Stiles didn’t even have a second to wonder if Derek believed him. It wasn’t more than a heartbeat or two later when Derek’s lips were against his and Derek’s tongue was in his mouth and Derek’s hands were pushing him towards the staircase, because eventually the pack’s nagging had paid off and Derek had accepted that his bed had no business being in the living room, in front of a bunch of windows. Stiles didn’t resist, not at all, because this was what he’d wanted for a long time.
Later, when Derek had finished mapping every inch of Stiles - and Stiles had more than returned the favor - they did get around to talking. Derek told Stiles he loved him too. Stiles admitted some of the things he’d overheard. Derek vowed to test Stiles hearing range, so he’d know if Stiles could hear him or not, and Stiles promised he’d only eavesdrop in life-or-death situations.
It was far from a perfect start to a relationship, but it was theirs and Stiles thought that maybe that was all that mattered. And anyway, he couldn’t help being grateful for Derek’s stupid assumptions about human hearing and all of the things he was never supposed to hear…but did anyway.