Work Text:
The video was of a surprisingly bad quality for something shot in the days of digital cameras and smart phones that had better video resolution than most professional cameras had had a decade ago. Not that Derek had a smart phone. In fact, Stiles would have bet Derek didn't even own a phone, except he had Derek's number saved in his own phone. Strictly for emergencies, of course.
Stiles' thumb hovered over the display - to slide or not to slide. He hummed thoughtfully. It wasn't exactly an emergency of the kind Derek had had in mind when he'd given them all his number. But it was an emergency. Of a sort.
"Ah, screw it," he muttered, sliding his thumb over Derek's name in his address book to initiate the call.
"What," was Derek's response, and Stiles clamped down on his first instinct ("Rude!") and went with his second.
"Dude! Please tell me you haven't been drugged, cursed or otherwise been manipulated into a different state of mind."
"What," Derek said again, but this time it was tinged with confusion instead of irritation.
Stiles rolled his eyes. Of course Derek would need him to spell it out. "So I was doing homework earlier and that led me to do some research on the history of improvised weapons and that led to this video of a lady using household items as weapons. Pretty cool, huh?"
"Stiles," Derek warned, the confusion giving way to impatience.
Stiles pulled a face. People who interrupted him were definitely not his favorite kind of people. In fact, on the list of people he didn't like they were right behind people who wanted to kill him and people who wanted to kill his family and friends.
"Yeah, well, you should have seen what she could do with an ashtray and a pencil. You'd be impressed, too."
"Is there a point to this? If you're not in danger, I'm going to hang up. I have other things to do."
That was the perfect opening and it made Stiles smile like an angel. A fallen angel who'd just discovered that the dark side had better cookies anyway. "Other things - like recording another crochet instruction video?" he asked innocently.
The silence on Derek's end of the line spoke volumes.
"Because," Stiles continued, "while I was watching some lady kick ass using a bunch of knick-knacks as her arsenal, I noticed one of the recommended videos in the sidebar. Namely a video by The Crochet King. Said Crochet King looked very familiar, so I clicked on it thinking I'd at least get a good laugh out of it. And really, Derek? The Crochet King? That's a bit presumptuous, don't you think?"
There was still only silence in the line, and Stiles wondered for a moment if Derek had hung up on him. It wasn't like cell phones had a dial tone. He briefly took the phone from his ear and checked if the call was still connected.
It was.
"Derek?"
"What do you want me to say, Stiles? Congratulations on finding another way to laugh about my shitty life."
Stiles opened his mouth, but nothing came out. That wasn't even the reason why he'd called Derek. Sure, it was funny to think of Derek Hale, alpha male and beta werewolf, as the Crochet King of the internet. But he'd called because -- well, Stiles wasn't actually sure why he'd called, but it hadn't been to gloat or make fun of Derek.
Much.
"No, that's not why I called," Stiles said, but it sounded weak and pathetic even to his own ears. Before he had time to sort out his thoughts and think of a proper response, Derek spoke.
"Right," Derek said, his voice dripping with barely contained anger and disbelief. "Well, if you're done laughing at me, I have to go back to what I was doing. And yes, that's code for crocheting something."
"I--"
"That's the last time we speak of this," Derek interrupted him, speaking low and intently. "If you're really desperate to know more about crocheting, maybe you should watch an instructional video. I hear they have those available online," he added before he hung up.
If he was honest, Stiles had kind of expected the sarcasm. What he hadn't expected was the anger and ...hurt? Had that been hurt in Derek's voice? Stiles wasn't sure.
He slipped his phone into his pocket and looked down at his laptop screen. Derek's video was long done buffering, the screen frozen on an image of Derek in a red sweater.
Stiles hit play.
The video's quality was pretty crappy, but the lighting was better than Stiles had expected. The video was semi-recent, so Derek was wearing a sweater with honest-to-god thumbholes and it was in a color outside of his previously favored color scheme of dark, darker and darkest. Derek also looked very uncomfortable, shifting in his seat and crossing his arms as he spoke.
Stiles frowned and then realized he'd muted the video when he called Derek, so he started over and turned up the volume.
There was a faint rushing sound in the background, speaking further of the poor quality of the video. Derek was sitting on a chair by the large window in the loft, looking uncertainly into the camera.
"Okay, um," video!Derek said. "I've been asked a few general questions that I wanted to answer first, so we'll get to the baby bootie tutorial in about, uh, three minutes?"
A pop up text in the corner informed Stiles that it was actually more like four and a half minutes, but Stiles had no intention of skipping a video of Derek talking to people on the internet. About crochet.
"So the first question is about the best way to hold the hook," Derek said, holding up a crochet hook with a bright blue plastic handle and a gleaming silver tip. "That's one question I get a lot and the answer is that there is no right or wrong way to hold the hook. I hold mine like a knife," he said, and the video cut to a shot of Derek's hands as he held the hook loosely in his fist. Then he changed his hold on the hook and Derek's voice-over explained that some people held crochet hooks like a pencil. The video cut back to Derek, who was smiling a genuine kind of half smile. It was somehow more adorable than the sweater and Derek's shy on-camera personality because he knew that Derek expressed at least 80 percent of his emotions by scowling.
"But those are just the two favored holds. Some people out there have to work around handicaps or other restrictions and have gotten creative with their crochet hooks. Others just don't find these holds comfortable and simply improvise something that suits them better. As long you can crochet with it, there is no wrong hold."
Derek glanced down at a sheet of paper in front of him and started talking about specific yarn brands and acrylic wool and Stiles zoned out a little. Derek's face was more animated than he'd ever seen it, and he was talking about crochet, for god's sake.
Derek had a hobby. Derek had a hobby and shared it with complete strangers. He had a special leather case with different sizes of crochet hooks and a pair of really nice scissors and a sewing kit. Derek loved to crochet.
How did Stiles not know this?
No, that wasn't even the question. The question was: what was he going to do about it now that he knew?
#
Derek having a YouTube channel where he uploaded weekly crochet tutorials demanded further research. Said research led Stiles up into the attic. He rooted though boxes of his mother's things to find the box they'd shoved all her craft equipment into. He found it in the corner, coated with a thick layer of dust. There were only three crochet hooks left in it - nothing like the ten hook kit Derek had.
There was a bit of wool - or was it yarn? What was the difference? Stiles had no idea - in the corner of the box. There wasn't much left, only a fist-sized ball of tightly rolled up baby blue wool. Yarn. Whatever it was.
An hour later, Stiles was staring intently at Derek's hands as he explained how to do a half double crochet. Stiles had never noticed it before, but there were short black hairs on Derek's knuckles.
The video cut and then Stiles saw Derek's hands move at a fast-forward like speed, working through several rows of yarn before the video slowed down again and Derek showed his viewers how to fasten off the yarn and expertly hide it so it didn't stick out of the finished work.
Stiles looked down at his mangled attempt at a baby bootie and cursed. Crocheting was a lot harder than he'd expected. Whenever he concentrated too much on what to do with the hook, he relaxed his other hand and lost the tension in the yarn. That meant he couldn't pull off whatever complicated crochet maneuver he was trying to pull off until he put some tension back into the string. Which he couldn't do without letting go of the hook and undoing all of his hard work. (Well, okay. The last move or two which - at his speed - was still a lot.)
Maybe baby booties weren't the best thing to start with, as a total beginner. Frustrated, Stiles unraveled his squishy blue blob of yarn and clicked through to Derek's channel page, browsing through the videos until he found one that declared it was for beginners.
The upload date of the video was just over a year ago. That put it at a few months after Allison's death. Stiles was both pissed and relieved. Pissed because Derek never bothered to tell anyone about this crochet stuff despite his near-pack status and the fact that they were almost sort of kind of friends these days. But he was also relieved because if anyone desperately needed a hobby that had nothing to do with death and destruction, it was Derek freaking Hale, the master of manpain and tragedy.
Stiles waited impatiently as the video loaded and then he hit play.
Instead of wearing one of the sweaters that Derek was pack-famous for these days, he was in a skin-tight olive green shirt. There were only a handful of shots of Derek's upper body - most of the video focused on his hands to show the individual crochet stitches in detail - but glancing over the comments section, Stiles could see that people definitely took notice of Derek's face as well as his crochet skills.
Well, judge not and all that. It wasn't like Stiles hadn't noticed as well.
The old video started with a shot of Derek, in the same spot where - going by the most recent one - he was still filming the videos, as he waved into the camera. He gave a short introduction and then the video cut to a shot of his hands. Stiles was too busy pondering the pain he'd seen in Derek's eyes to follow the instructions. It was obvious despite the somewhat sub-par lighting and Derek's massive eyebrows to deflect attention from his eyes, that Crochet King Derek hadn't been a very happy person in the early days. Maybe crocheting was Derek's form of therapy? It wasn't like any of them could go to a regular therapist to deal with their trauma.
Stiles focused back on the video and realized he'd missed at least a minute of explanations. On the screen, Derek was working his way through a row of stitches at lightning speed that looked nothing like the half double crochet stitch Stiles had been fighting with before. Being as hopelessly lost as he was, Stiles restarted the video.
Having an explanation for the whole cast on process was actually very helpful, even if his row of chain stitches had curled in on itself and wasn't mostly straight like Derek's. He had already noticed a major mistake he'd made with the baby booties. No wonder they turned out wonky.
Fifteen minutes later, he'd watched the video three times and managed to produce a small rectangle of crocheted yarn. The edges weren't very straight, but the rows were even enough for a beginner, Stiles decided.
He clicked on the next video.
#
It took Stiles a moment to realize that Derek was bare-chested and in bed. His eyes still had a faint blue edge around them and his hair was sticking up wildly enough that Stiles could see it even in the dim half-light coming in from outside.
Why would Derek be--oh. Stiles blinked and looked at the alarm clock on Derek's bedside table. The bright red numbers proclaimed that it was 1:22 am.
"Stiles?" Derek asked. "Do you have any idea how late it is?"
"One twenty-two," Stiles said, letting the loft door roll shut behind him. He made his way through the loft, glad that Derek's hobby was crocheting and not interior design. Navigating the loft in the middle of the night through a maze of designer furniture was not something Stiles had any intention of trying. Ever.
Derek fell back into the pillows. "Why are you here, Stiles?" he asked tiredly.
Stiles, having finally reached the bed, held out his tangled ball of yarn and the pitiful excuse for a granny square he'd made. "I need you to help me fix this."
Derek glanced at Stiles' hands - the only way Stiles could tell was by the shifting of the faint blue glow coming from Derek's eyes - and then put his arm over his face and groaned. "It's half past one in the morning," Derek said, his voice muffled by his own arm. "Don't you have school tomorrow?"
Stiles frowned. It was a Tuesday, so-- "Yes."
"Then go home," Derek said. "Sleep."
"But--" Stiles bit his lip and ran his thumb over the soft yarn in his hands, trying to look sad and pathetic. Not that he thought Derek would necessarily be swayed by it, but it wouldn't hurt to try.
Derek sighed. "Do you really want to learn?"
Stiles couldn't place the emotion he heard in Derek's voice. It wasn't his usual variation on the hurt/angry/upset/pissed off theme that seemed to run through Derek's emotional life most of the time. It wasn't the playful, sarcastic and annoying tone of voice either. That one seemed to be reserved for interactions with Stiles and for days when Derek was actually in a good mood.
"I've been trying to get this right since four o'clock this afternoon," Stiles said. He frowned contemplatively. "I think I missed dinner."
"Okay, fine," Derek said. "But I'm not teaching you how to crochet at two in the morning."
"One-thirty," Stiles muttered, receiving the full electric blue light show glare as a response.
"Tomorrow after school," Derek said. "Don't tell anyone, don't be late, and don't bother to come if you're going to treat this as a joke."
"Jeez, thanks, Derek. I'm not a total asshole, you know."
"Coulda fooled me," Derek mumbled. "Now get out."
Stiles rolled his eyes and picked his way back to the front door. "Sweet dreams, Crochet King," he called over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow!"
#
Stiles fidgeted for a moment, then reached into his pocket and got out the yarn he'd stuffed in there on his way up the stairs. Learning how to crochet was one thing, being caught with baby blue yarn in the staircase by Derek's neighbors was quite another.
Derek's other eyebrow joined the first as he took in the twisted, tangled mass of yarn. "You're actually serious about this," he said, sounding as surprised as he looked.
"Well, yeah," Stiles said. "I said I was, didn't I?"
Derek shrugged. "You say a lot of things, Stiles."
"Yeah," Stiles said, his eyes narrowing. "And then I stick to my word."
Derek sighed. "Well, if you're going to learn how to crochet, let's do it right."
Stiles' eyes widened a little when Derek led him upstairs to the roof. There was a small wooden shed in the corner of the roof, locked with a chain and padlock arrangement. Stiles raised an eyebrow as Derek took out the key and unlocked the chains.
Inside, the small shed was packed tightly with transparent plastic boxes. They were filled with multi-colored yarns and half-finished projects.
"Did you make all these?" Stiles asked, pointing at a box labeled 'hats' in black marker.
"Do you know anyone else around here who crochets?"
"I didn't know you did either until yesterday," Stiles pointed out.
Derek sucked in air through his nose. It made the kind of sound that Stiles had come to associate with Derek losing his patience. Quickly.
"Oh, hey! Is that a Captain America hat?" Stiles had the box open before Derek could stop him. The blue, red and white colored hat was indeed a Captain America hat, made to look like the captain's vibranium shield, complete with the white star in the middle. "This is so cool," Stiles breathed, running a hand over the soft yarn.
"You think so?" Derek asked, sounding a little mollified.
"Dude, I'd pay for a hat like this." Stiles froze and then looked up at Derek. "In fact... how much?"
"What?"
"For the hat," Stiles explained, waving the hat in front of Derek's face. "I want to buy it."
Derek blinked and drew back a little. "It's--I--You don't have to pay me. You can keep it."
"Really? Awesome!" Stiles said, putting the hat on. It was a little stretchy and fit snugly around his hat, covering the top half of his ears on either side.
"Okay, let's go back downstairs," Derek said. He held a couple of skeins of yarn and a small leather kit in his hands.
Stiles followed Derek back down into the loft and dragged a chair for himself over to the windows.
"Lesson one," Derek said, pointing to the window. "Always have adequate lighting. If you can't see what you're doing, you're just putting unnecessary stress on your eyes and you're most definitely going to mess up some of the stitches."
Stiles nodded. They were sitting next to the big window in front of the balcony, facing each other. Close enough, in fact, that their knees were touching slightly. Technically, Stiles supposed, that was so that Derek could reach over and help him. Practically, however, that just made it harder for Stiles to concentrate on anything.
"Lesson two: picking the right yarn." Derek plucked one of the skeins of yarn from the table and held it out to Stiles. It was a soft, light green yarn.
"The label has all the information you need. It tells you how much yarn there is, its weight and what size crochet hook you need."
Stiles turned the skein over in his hands, reading the small print on the label. Additionally to the washing instructions, there were a few more symbols printed on it. One was a tiny crochet hook and crossed knitting needles with a letter above it.
"Is that the hook size?" he asked, pointing it out to Derek.
"Yes," Derek said. "There are several different sizes, from really small to really big." He opened the leather kit and Stiles leaned over to look at the different crochet hooks. He'd already seen the kit in some of Derek's videos, but the smallest hook size was even tinier than it had looked in the video. The hook at the end was so small that Stiles could hardly make it out.
"What do you even need such a tiny one for?"
"The more delicate and thin your yarn, the smaller your hook. You can't make a doily with a J hook."
Stiles nodded seriously, vigorously biting his lip to keep from laughing at the thought of Derek crocheting a doily.
"And if you don't make doilies?" Stiles asked. "What if you're strictly a scarf guy? Or make blankets and stuff?"
Derek shrugged. "Obviously you don't need to buy a hook you don't need. I sometimes use the small ones for threading accent yarns through my work. I made a green scarf once and then wove a gold thread through it."
"Cool." Stiles nodded again. "Okay, so what's next?"
"Lesson three: casting on." Derek handed him the H hook and grabbed the next smaller one for himself. "Make a slipknot around your hook and pull it close but not too tight. Then you put your yarn over and pull it through the loop. That's your first chain."
Stiles fought with the yarn for a second before Derek reached over and wound it around his index finger.
"Hold it like that and keep some tension on it," he said. "And if you lead the end through between your pinkie and your ring finger, you'll have a bit more control."
"I already watched this tutorial," Stiles said, pulling the hook through the loops again and again until he had a four inch long chain. "I got stuck at the granny square thing."
"You need to learn how to walk before you can run," Derek said, sounding for all the world like a fortune cookie.
Stiles snorted. "Yeah," he said. "And I watched the tutorial on 'walking' last night."
"Fine," Derek said with a huff. "Show me. Make me an even square, no wonky corners, and we'll move on."
"Challenge accepted," Stiles said. Single crochet stitches were easy enough. Like chain stitches, but instead of pulling the yarn through all the way, you had to stop halfway and grab more of the yarn to pull through both loops. Despite knowing all of that that, though, his end result got a little narrower near the top.
Derek gave him the 'told you so' eyebrows and unraveled Stiles' hard work with a smug smile on his face. "Start over."
Stiles started over and ended up with the same result. His rows were getting smaller near the top, making his light green square not-quite-so-square. He tried crocheting a little more loosely, but that didn't do much except make the whole thing even less stable.
"Fine," Stiles said, throwing his hands up in the air. "I give up. Tell me what I'm doing wrong."
"Hmm?" Derek said, not looking up from his own work and fuck - who had given Derek permission to crochet nearly ten inches of some kind of scarf while Stiles couldn't even get a three-inch square done properly (he'd downsized from four inches because he could fail just as badly at three inches and it was quicker to re-do a smaller square).
"I thought you'd watched a video," Derek said, turning his work to start a new row.
"Dereeeeeek," Stiles whined. "Come on."
Derek looked up and grinned. "Lesson four: always count your stitches."
"I did! It still doesn't work!"
"Did you also add one to every row?"
Stiles froze, looking down at his not-square. "Add one?"
"You'll need to add one chain to every row to turn on. Otherwise you end up with something that runs to a point because you're losing a stitch every time you switch directions."
"Oh."
"Try again," Derek said.
This time, it worked perfectly. His square was the squarest of squares. Derek handed him the scissors and Stiles cut the yarn before Derek could speak.
"Traditionally," Derek said, flicking the rather short end of yarn hanging from the square, "we give it a bit more so we can weave in the end. What are you going to do with all of one and a half inches of yarn? Tie a knot in it to stop it from unraveling?"
Stiles glared at him. "Maybe."
"Just pull it through the loop," Derek said. "That'll hold it. It's not like you're doing anything with the square. It's just for practice."
"Now show me the granny square thing," Stiles demanded. "You said you would if I could do a square. Or is this not okay?" he asked, holding his square up to be judged.
"It's... acceptable," Derek said, pushing Stiles' hands out of his face. "But granny squares aren't exactly for beginners."
"Lucky me that I have a great teacher right here to walk me through it."
"Why do you want to learn it so badly?"
"It's Scott's mom's birthday in two months," Stiles said. "I'm going to make her a blanket."
"Uh," Derek said. "Maybe a smaller project--"
"A blanket," Stiles said decisively.
"You can just buy one," Derek said. "You don't need to do all this."
"The best presents are the ones you make yourself, not the ones you buy," Stiles said. "Unless it's a Ferrari. Anyone gives you a Ferrari, nobody cares if they built it themselves. But if you give someone a blanket, it's even more awesome if it's one you made."
"A simple pattern then, and no more than two colors or you'll never get it done in time," Derek said.
Stiles smiled. "I can work with that. Now show me how to do the thing."
Derek sighed, but obligingly put his own work aside to show Stiles how to crochet a simple granny square.
#
Derek went with him to buy yarn, critically judging the different brands while Stiles goofed off and mock-fought a little kid who'd been dragged in there by his mom with a pair of wooden knitting needles. The stern-looking matronly woman who ran the shop glared at him over her half-moon spectacles and then raised an elegant eyebrow at him when he paid an exorbitant sum for the quality yarn - dark red and white - that Derek had selected.
After a while, however, Stiles noticed that he never actually sat down to work on more squares for Melissa's birthday blanket if he was alone at home. But if he was at the loft, working in quiet companionship with Derek, he finished four or five a session. Derek, meanwhile, worked on his own projects or on new patterns he created.
"I sell them online, actually," Derek confessed when Stiles asked about it. "It doesn't make that much money - I'm not well known enough for that - but it's enough to cover the cost of the website and the yarn."
"But not a new camera, apparently," Stiles muttered under his breath.
Being a werewolf, Derek heard him anyway. "What do you mean?"
Stiles frowned. "What do I mean? I mean that your century-old camera is way below standard, Derek."
"It is?"
"Have you ever looked at any videos besides your own?" Stiles asked, shaking his head. "You'd probably get a lot more views if your videos looked a little less grainy in the previews."
"But--I mean you can see everything clearly enough, can't you?"
"Sure, the close-ups of your hands are okay, but sometimes the details are a little fuzzy. You're lucky you have these big windows or you'd be screwed."
The next time Stiles came to the loft for the Secret Crochet Club's bi-weekly meeting, Derek was pushing random buttons on a brand new camera.
"The man at the store said this was the best," Derek said with a shrug. "But I'm not even sure I can find the power button."
Stiles rolled his eyes and switched the camera on. It was heavy, but Derek had let himself be talked into buying a small tabletop tripod as well.
"Okay, let's test this thing," Stiles said. "Crochet something."
The camera was pretty easy to handle. Most of the controls were intuitive and the symbols on them let Stiles guess at their function with ease. The touch screen display made it easy to zoom in and out. The few actual buttons were clearly marked and easy to reach for anyone holding the camera.
Stiles stopped the recording and then played around a little. He found an instant replay option that let him watch the footage in real time, slow motion or fast track.
"You're picking this up very quickly," Derek said, looking over his shoulder.
Stiles jumped at Derek's sudden closeness and tightened his fingers around the camera in order not to drop it. Thankfully, Stiles was an old hat at dealing with Derek Hale induced mini heart attacks and managed to keep his voice even as he replied.
"I'm a fast learner."
Derek muttered something Stiles didn't catch, so he turned back to figuring out the camera.
They tested the camera in different light conditions and various settings and then uploaded the videos to Derek's laptop to see which settings were the best for Derek's preferred spot by the window.
When Stiles got an email notification on Sunday evening that The Crochet King had uploaded a new video, he was delighted to see the quality of the video was a definite step up from the older ones. Judging by the comments, the rest of Derek's audience thought so, too. Stiles read them all, although some of the comments were definitely crossing the line. Like CrochetKingLover92, who spent more time talking about Derek's hands and his muscles than she (he? they?) did about the flower pattern potholder tutorial that was the actual focus of the video.
Frowning, Stiles scrolled back up and started the video. It was a fairly basic video tutorial of a free pattern that had been requested by one of Derek's subscribers. Before he started the tutorial though, Derek gave a brief introduction like he always did.
"Today I'm going to show you how to crochet the flower pattern potholder - you can find a link to the free pattern in the description below. This video was requested by crochetfiend111 and has a medium difficulty, with a few color changes that might trip you up if you're still a beginner. Don't give up though - hopefully this step by step video guide can help you out," Derek said. He was wearing the same clothes he had two days before, when Stiles had been over to crochet. He must have recorded the video earlier that day.
"One other thing before we start," video!Derek said. "You'll have noticed by now that this video looks a bit different. Yes, I did buy a new camera - finally. A friend of mine recently told me I needed to step up my game if I wanted to keep making successful videos, so I trusted in his opinion and bought the shiniest new camera on the market. I'm still getting used to it though, so please be patient if there's a small transition period and things don't always look perfect."
Stiles leaned back and watched the rest of the tutorial, letting Derek's voice wash over him. He'd never admit it out loud, but hearing Derek describe him as a friend instead of an acquaintance or a nuisance or - Stiles' personal favorite - an annoyance made him feel warm all over. Like he could definitely crochet a flowery potholder if he put his mind to it.
#
"Here," Derek said after they'd been working in silence for a good half hour. "Try this on."
Stiles blinked and, for the first time since Derek had started his newest project, focused on the yarn in Derek's hands. His eyes widened when he saw the Captain America star on the blanket-like stretch of material.
"What is it?"
"A cardigan," Derek said. "Well, it will be when it's finished. This is just the back portion." He motioned for Stiles to stand up. "I need to test the length before I go on, see if I need to add any more to it."
Stiles stood and waited patiently as Derek held the half-finished cardigan against his back.
"Okay, I'm done," Derek said after a few moments. "I don't have a pattern for this, so I'm just making it up as I go along. I'll need to check the collar and the sleeves against you as well when I'm a little further along, otherwise it won't fit when it's done."
"Fit?" Stiles asked. "Fit me?"
"I'm not making this for myself," Derek said, an exasperated look on his face.
"You're making me a Captain America cardigan?"
Derek gave him a one-shouldered shrug, not looking up from where he was putting little safety needles into the cardigan-in-progress. "You like Captain America," he said neutrally, but the tips of his ears were turning pink. He cleared his throat. "And he's popular with my subscribers."
Stiles smiled widely. He could wear his Cap t-shirt, his Cap hat and his Cap cardigan to school when Derek was done. Or better yet - wear it to the opening of the next Captain America movie.
"Thank you, Derek."
"It's not even done yet," Derek said, grumpiness returning to his voice.
"Yeah, I know," Stiles said. He put his arm on Derek's and squeezed lightly. "But you're working on it. So thank you." Stiles frowned and squeezed Derek's arm again, running his thumb over the fabric. "Hmm, this sweater feels exactly like the yarn I use for the birthday blanket."
"That's because it's same brand," Derek said, pulling his arm back.
Stiles frowned. "Wait, did you crochet this sweater? Did you make all of your new sweaters?"
Derek sighed. "You've seen my videos, Stiles. I'm crocheting you a cardigan. How does that come as a surprise?"
Put like that, it really wasn't a surprise. Stiles just hadn't thought of it. Suddenly he was filled with the burning desire to try his hand at making his very own sweater.
"I want to lea--"
"Finish the blanket first," Derek interrupted him. "Then we can talk."
"Fine," Stiles said with a pout. They worked in silence for a while longer before Stiles asked, "How do you make the thumbhole?"
"A stitch called foundation single crochet. It's like a combination of a single crochet and a chain." Derek paused for a moment. "It's the same stitch I use for thumb and finger openings in wrist warmers and fingerless gloves."
"Can you show me how to do that?"
"Yes," Derek said, and Stiles internally crowed with victory. But then Derek opened his big mouth and ruined Stiles's big sweater plans, at least for the time being, when he added, "After you've finished the blanket."
#
Derek hadn't said anything, but Stiles knew he was invited and that there was a small crystal figurine wrapped up in purple wrapping paper, waiting to be gifted to the pack's unofficial Mom.
Stiles' own present was almost done. With Derek's help, he'd managed to make sixty-eight palm-sized squares that he now had to put together into a blanket. They'd spread the squares out on the table until they were satisfied it had a blanket-like shape.
Stiles poked at one of the squares. The edges were no longer curling in on any of the squares. Stiles suspected it had something to do with that blocking thing Derek had mentioned, although Derek had yet to properly explain it to him other than to say it was necessary.
"Lesson... what are we up to?"
Stiles shrugged. "Twenty-something? I don't know."
"It's not important anyway," Derek said. "What you need to know is that there are a lot of different ways to join granny squares. Some are easy, others not. Some use a crochet hook, others a needle."
Stiles made a face. Needles were not his favorite thing in the world, not even sewing needles.
"I'm going to show you an easy and quick way to join these," Derek said. He picked up two of the squares and handed them to Stiles. "Now, which one of the colors do you want to use?"
Stiles looked down at his work. The squares were red and white, with a white center, a row of red and another two rows of white around it. If he joined them with the white yarn, any mistakes or unevenness wouldn't be noticed at first glance. But the blanket would look a lot more badass if the squares were lined in red.
"Red," he decided.
"Okay," Derek said. He put the white yarn aside and picked up the red. "What you're going to do is use the single crochet join method to join these. It'll be quick and easy and it gives you a bit of a raised edge between the squares. You picked the red to stand out, right? The this is the perfect method for you."
It was as easy as Derek had said. After seven weeks of nothing but double crochet stitches, Stiles had a brief moment of panic before he remembered how to do the single crochet stitch, but after that he worked through the rows of squares at an astonishing speed. He stayed an hour longer than usual, but the end result was that he'd finished Melissa's blanket.
"It looks great," Derek said.
"It's a little wonky in this corner," Stiles said critically. During joining the squares, he'd noticed several squares where he'd missed a stitch or accidentally added one, meaning they didn't line up exactly straight, but it wasn't all that noticeable. Except for one corner where he'd somehow missed a stitch while joining the squares, resulting in a small hole.
"It's fine," Derek said. "If you'd stop trying to push your finger through it, you wouldn't even notice it."
Stiles made a discontent noise, but there was nothing he could do about it. Less than a week was definitely not enough time to start over.
#
Except he and Derek were friends now. Real friends. Friends who had a secret hobby together.
He could totally go over and hang out with Derek even if he didn't have a project to work on. Maybe he'd even try something new. Maybe that amigurumi werewolf he'd seen floating around the crochet forums.
Grinning, Stiles burst into the loft and nearly fell flat on his face when he saw Derek in front of his camera. Derek shot him a glare and stood up to his the stop button.
"Great," he said. "Now I have to start over."
"Sorry," Stiles said. "But you don't usually film in the afternoons."
"I used to, before you started coming over."
"Oh."
"What are you doing here, Stiles? Your blanket is finished, isn't it?"
"Whoa!" Stiles said. "Did you think that was the only reason I kept coming here?"
Derek didn't answer, but the expression on his face was clear enough.
"God save me from emotionally backwards werewolves." Stiles rubbed a hand over his forehead. "Okay, lesson one," he said, smirking a little when Derek gave him an annoyed look. "We're friends, aren't we? I can come over because I like hanging out with you. Lesson two: I actually like to crochet. Just because I finished the blanket doesn't mean I'll never touch a crochet hook again."
"You like to crochet?" Derek echoed. "You really, actually like it?"
"Duh," Stiles said. "Why did you think I kept asking all these questions that had nothing to do with the blanket I was working on?"
"I... don't know?"
"Ugh," Stiles said. "Okay, let's start over. Hello, Derek. What are you up to today?"
Derek looked at him like he wasn't quite sure Stiles was entirely sane, but he obligingly replied, "I'm filming a new video for my channel."
"Cool," Stiles said. "Can I help?"
Derek nodded. "You can, actually." He rifled through the box in front of him and pulled out a dark blue garment. "Put this on."
Stiles took it and unfolded it, his eyes widening when he saw the shield on the back. "You finished the cardigan!"
"Yes." Derek nodded. "But I made the mistake of mentioning it in a comment, and then people wanted to see it. So I'll have to show the finished thing off before you can have it."
Stiles slipped on the cardigan. The sleeves were barely long enough to reach his wrists, but other than that it was perfect. Stiles rubbed his cheek over the soft wool and the pushed the sleeves up his arms so no one would notice that they were slightly too short.
"Sorry about the sleeves," Derek said.
"It's fine," Stiles said. "This is great. I love it! Thank you, Derek."
Derek smiled and Stiles felt his insides melting. To distract himself, he ran a hand over the row of buttons on the front of the cardigan. They were small Captain America buttons and had probably cost more than the wool to make the cardigan.
Stiles' part in the video was easy. He just stood still and with his back to the camera while Derek explained how to do the color changes to make the shield not in a circle but row by row. Then Derek filmed a few of the details and Stiles was allowed to turn around. He couldn't help himself and waved at the camera, which had Derek rolling his eyes, but the recording process went smoothly enough.
Stiles left in his awesome new cardigan and grinned when, hours later, he got a notification email for a new video.
Derek must have edited the video right away, but not before filming another introduction after Stiles had left because he couldn't remember hearing any of it before.
"This is my friend Stiles," Derek said, and a still image of Stiles waving dorkily at the camera popped up in the corner. Stiles groaned. Trust Derek to pick the worst shot possible to introduce him to the Internet.
On the screen, Derek continued. "You can thank him for making me get a new camera. I've been making the Captain America cardigan I mentioned for him. Some of you expressed a wish to see the finished product, so here you go."
The rest of the video was cut together from scenes they'd filmed this afternoon and close-ups of Derek's hands as he showed a color change or a specific stitch he'd used.
Derek's usual end screen image of an assortment of his finished crochet projects had been replaced with a blown up shot of Stiles' dorky grin and Stiles closed his eyes in amused misery. He'd have to kill Derek the next time he saw him, no matter what kind of a mess it would make of Melissa's birthday party.
Grinning, he took out his phone. Nice video, Crochet King, he texted. Too bad I'm gonna have to kill you for putting my face all over your end screen.
Shut up, Derek texted back a minute later. You love being famous.
Famous? Stiles frowned and texted Derek a question mark.
Discussion about you has taken over the comment section, Derek replied.
Stiles refreshed the page and instead of the four comments it had had when Stiles started the video, it suddenly had fifty-three comments and counting.
Some of the comments are a little... out there, Derek cautioned.
Stiles skimmed the page, rolling his eyes at the people who had nothing better to do than to insult someone for enjoying something geeky. Apart from the asshats you could find in every corner of the internet, there were also a handful of people who apparently thought Stiles was Derek's boyfriend. It sent a small thrill through Stiles to know that somewhere out there people thought Derek wasn't completely out of his league.
The longest comment thread by far though was one between CrochetKingLover92 - Stiles already had not-so-fond memories of that particular fan - and someone called deedooduu. deedooduu thought it was cute that the Crochet King had made a fandom-related cardigan for his boyfriend. Stiles thought it was cute, too, even though he hadn't said so. CrochetKingLover92, however, was convinced that Derek (or "my king" as CrochetKingLover92 called him) was as straight as an arrow and seconds away from recognizing CrochetKingLover92 as his soul mate and proposing marriage.
After reading through the entire thread, Stiles sent Derek a link to the thread and asked, Who the hell is that and who do they think they are?
Yeah, Derek sent back. Like I said, some of it is a little out there.
It's disgusting, Stiles sent. That's what it is.
This time Derek's reply took a little longer. You think so?
Hell yeah, Stiles texted back. It's completely unfounded and so far from the truth that they can't even see how much it's never gonna happen.
Derek's next reply took even longer, and it simply read I have to go.
Stiles shrugged and refreshed the comments page again. Maybe Derek had more important things to do, but Stiles had to obsessively read every single comment now and resist the urge to reply and get involved in the argument.
#
After that, Melissa's attention had been occupied by other well-wishers and party guests and Stiles had wandered off to find something to drink and then to find Derek. But every time he caught a glimpse of Derek through the crowd, he'd vanished by the time Stiles had worked his way through the party guests.
Stiles downed his soda and decided to get another before he tried again. On his way to the refreshments table, Scott appeared at his side and pulled him into the kitchen.
"Dude," Scott said. "What did you do to Derek?"
"Huh?" Stiles opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water to top off his glass. "I didn't do anything to Derek. I've been trying to find him all evening."
"Did you have a fight?" Scott asked. His eyes widened and he gasped."Did you guys break up?"
What the hell? Stiles frowned. "Break u--Scott, we weren't dating."
"You weren't?" Scott gave him a skeptical look. "But you spend a lot of time with Derek."
"I spend a lot of time with you, too," Stiles pointed out.
"Yeah, but you're my best friend, Stiles." Scott reached up to scratch at his jaw. "You've been over at Derek's a lot these last couple of months, and you always come back smelling of Derek and happiness. You've both been happier. Derek's been smiling more and you've literally been skipping around."
"I have not," Stiles protested. There might have been one or two skipping incidents, but a man was allowed to celebrate for reaching a milestone number of finished granny squares, wasn't he?
"Yeah, well, Derek reeks of misery and he hasn't come out of his corner once except to give my mom her present and to avoid you." Scott gave him a stern look. "Whatever you did, fix it."
Stiles nodded and Scott walked back out to the party. He had no idea what he'd done, and to fix it, he'd first have to find out what was wrong. And for that, he had to find Derek.
#
Derek came out of the bathroom just as Stiles rounded the corner. Derek's neutral expression closed down and he turned the scowl up to full force at the sight of him, and Stiles felt a burst of anger. He had no idea what he'd done or why Derek was angry at him, but everyone blamed him anyway. Awesome. Just typical.
"Hey, Derek," Stiles said.
Derek looked past him, probably to see if he could push past Stiles without anyone - namely Scott - making a fuss. Apparently he couldn't, because he stayed where he was and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Fancy seeing you here," Stiles tried again.
Derek simply clenched his jaw and stared him down.
"Okay, what?" Stiles asked. "Come on, Derek, talk to me. I thought we were friends, so help me fix it. What did I do?"
And just like that, Derek deflated. He uncrossed his arms and sighed, then pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Nothing, Stiles. You did nothing. It's fine."
"It's not fine," Stiles said, putting his hand on Derek's arm as Derek was trying to edge past him and escape back to the party. "Something is wrong. Just tell me and I can do something."
"It's fine," Derek said again, gently shaking off Stiles' hand. "Nothing's wrong. Just enjoy the party."
Stiles watched Derek disappear into the crowd. When he went looking for him again half an hour later to try and get some more information out of Derek, he was nowhere to be found.
#
What was more, Scott thought that Derek was dating him. If Derek had a best friend, it was probably Stiles. Scott, however, was more like a brother to Derek. An annoying younger brother who he got to teach about werewolf-y stuff and complain to when his human best friend was being a tool.
So if Scott had the inside track to Derek's thoughts and he was convinced that Derek was dating Stiles, that had to mean that... Derek liked Stiles. He couldn't really imagine Derek telling Scott about any of this, but then again, neither had Stiles, and Scott had no problem figuring out that Stiles was attracted to Derek.
Stiles pondered the implications of that for several minutes, but the only conclusion he could come to was that Derek liked him.
Derek wanted to date him.
Stiles had to sit down for a moment.
But why weren't they dating then? Why was Derek scowling at him and smelling of misery? If anything, Stiles had been sending 'yes please' signals at Derek for at least the last six weeks, if not longer. What had made Derek revert back to his pre-Secret Crochet Club days? Or, judging by the depth of his scowl, even his pre-crochet days?
Stiles ran through their last interactions. Everything had been fine when they were filming the video at the loft. It was only afterwards when they were texting about it that Derek had stopped replying.
Stiles frowned, calling up the texts from that night. He couldn't see anything that would make Derek stop talking to him, but that didn't mean it wasn't there.
Stiles read their texts over and over, trying to puzzle it out. When he couldn't find any clues, he opened the Crochet King channel website and went through the comments again until he found the thread they were talking about. It had grown by several more comments, with a few more people jumping in.
It didn't click for him until he read a particularly nasty comment by CrochetKingLover92 where they called deedooduu several names for promoting such a 'disgusting and unhealthy' lifestyle for their favorite Crochet King. Stiles flagged the comment as offensive and then slowly sat back in his chair.
He'd called CrochetKingLover92's responses disgusting in his texts, but the thread had been started by a comment from deedooduu about how cute their relationship was. What if Derek thought he meant that was disgusting? He hadn't actually mentioned CrochetKingLover92 in his texts or what, specifically, he found so offensive about them.
Derek thought he was a homophobic asshole who got insulted by the idea of them being in a relationship. Stiles groaned and slumped down in his chair, letting his head thunk against his desk. Great. Just fucking great.
#
After nearly three weeks of this, Stiles was starting to get very frustrated when Scott - beautiful, amazing Scott - rode to the rescue.
"You need to make a grand gesture," he said. He was lying on his back, spread out over Stiles' bed and tossed a small ball - a dog toy, if Stiles' eyes didn't deceive him - up into the air over and over. Stiles had valiantly refrained from making any 'fetch' jokes.
"A grand gesture?" he asked dubiously.
"Like in the movies," Scott explained. "At the end of the movie when one of the star-crossed lovers is about to get into a plane or marry someone else, the other one usually shows up and makes a grand gesture. A love confession, or an extravagant gift." Scott frowned. "Hey, what was that movie where that guy suddenly broke out into song?"
"I don't know," Stiles sent absently, his thoughts racing. A grand gesture. For Derek. To show him he wasn't disgusted by the thought of dating him but would, in fact, be ecstatic if it ever happened. It would have to be something he crocheted, that much Stiles knew. But what?
"Out," he said, kicking at Scott's foot. "Go away, I need to plan."
"So? Why do I have to leave?" Scott asked.
"Because it's a secret," Stiles said. "I have an idea and I need to research it, and Derek would kill me if I let you know about it."
"Okay, fine," Scott said, getting to his feet. He grinned. "If it's a sex thing, I don't want to know anyway."
Stiles was still spluttering when the front door closed behind Scott.
#
Amigurumi, while more difficult than anything he'd tackled so far, wasn't that hard to figure out with the right kind of instructional videos and enough determination. There were a variety of patterns available for the small, stuffed crocheted figures, but for Stiles the decision which one to pick had been laughably easy. The wolf pattern had cost him five bucks, but it was so adorable that Stiles might have bought it even without the need to make an apology wolf for Derek.
He left the loft, pulling the door shut behind him. His hands started sweating on his way down the stairs. If Derek was out, he wouldn't find the wolf for hours. Hours of waiting and pacing and nerve-wracking mini heart attacks every time the phone rang. But if Derek had been home and simply disappeared to avoid Stiles, then he could have found the wolf already. He could call at any minute.
But what if he didn't call at all? Stiles gasped and held on to his Jeep for a moment.
No. Derek would call. He was sure of it. Maybe not necessarily to jump into a relationship, but at least to restore their friendship.
It took three hours for Derek to make contact. Three hours during which Stiles had cleaned the entire kitchen, scrubbed the Jeep until it sparkled and pre-cooked dinner for the entire week, freezing it in batches so he and his dad would only have to heat it up.
When Stiles phone chimed with a new text message alert, Stiles was arms deep in the freezer in the garage, trying to make enough room for eight home-cooked meals. He crammed them in and slammed the lid shut, taking out his phone.
He'd changed Derek's name to Crochet King weeks ago.
With shaking hands, he opened the message.
8 pm. Joey's Steak House.
Frowning, Stiles looked down at his phone. What was that supposed to mean? It was just like Derek not to explain anything. Was it a date? Stiles heart skipped a beat. Oh, please, let it be a date.
After he'd confirmed it with Scott, Stiles was reasonably sure that it was a date. Why else meet at a restaurant for dinner?
#
Derek gave him a relieved but tentative smile when Stiles hurried in five minutes late.
"I'm sorry," Stiles said, even before Derek could so much as greet him. "I'm sorry about being late, obviously, but I'm also sorry for everything else. I should have made it clear what I meant, and not let you assume the worst. No way would I ever call us disgusting. Hell, I thought it was cute too that you made me this cardigan," Stiles said, running a hand over the sleeve of his cardigan. "It's awesome and I love it and I was talking about that horrible person who thinks they know you because they've seen your videos and stalked you on social media platforms. Like you would ev--"
"Stiles," Derek interrupted him. "Breathe."
Stiles took a deep breath and released it, and the waitress appeared with two glasses of soda. Derek sent a questioning look Stiles way and then ordered food for the both of them when Stiles nodded.
"First off: I believe you," Derek said. "It was a misunderstanding. And it wasn't your fault. I should have let you explain and not been such a complete asshole to you at the party."
"You weren't," Stiles protested, and didn't back down even when Derek raised his eyebrows.
"Okay," Derek said. "But can we agree that it wasn't anyone fault and move on. Or better yet: start over?"
"Totally," Stiles said. "Although if we have to blame anyone, why not CrochetKingLover92?"
Derek laughed and Stiles grinned, feeling a lot lighter than he had all week. When Derek calmed down again, he reached his hand across the table and Stiles met him halfway. They held hands all the way through dinner and Derek even kissed him goodnight at the car. Stiles, drunk on pure happiness, put on his best Bogart voice and said, "Derek, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship."