*squeak squeak squeak*
There it was again. That fucking squeaking from the downstairs apartment. Derek gritted his teeth so hard it actually hurt, pressed hands to his ears, and stared at his textbook. He had an important test coming up and he’d really like the chance to study to keep his grades up. The damn noise was distracting and irritating as hell.
Derek had lived his first two years in the campus dorms, but after a couple of unfortunate incidents with both his roommates and their constant bedmates, he’d finally decided to move out and get his own place. His roommate at that time hadn’t been exactly subtle with his relief. According to him, Derek was too serious and scared his friends away with his scowling and ’eyebrows of doom.’
He didn’t have much money to spare on housing, so he’d been happy to find a small studio from a slightly run-down but otherwise decent-looking building a walking distance from the campus. When he’d moved in, he’d been cautiously optimistic. But as weeks went by, he didn’t have much interaction with his neighbors, just an occasional passing by in the corridor. Derek didn’t mind. He enjoyed the silence and his own peace.
Until his downstairs neighbor had gotten a dog.
*squeak squeak squeak*
It was one thing to get annoyed at the noise during the day, but waking up at three am to listen to the obnoxious squeaking was a completely another matter. Derek growled aloud, turned on his stomach and buried his head under the pillow.
He’d tried complaining to Laura about the squeaking chew toy, but his sister hadn’t really felt his pain.
”At least it’s not barking,” Laura had said a couple of days back, her voice tinny through the staticky line. She was traveling around and was currently somewhere around South-Eastern Asia. It was a miracle her phone even worked.
”I shared the bed with a spider the size of my hand last night,” she had continued. ”Almost pissed myself. Also, our host seems to think that roasted bugs are sufficient breakfast.”
”Fine. I’m complaining about nothing,” he’d grumbled and apologized by listening to her geeking about Cambodian jungles for the following two hours.
The pillow did nothing to muffle the squeaking, and on top of that, he was having difficulties to breathe. For a moment, he considered banging his fist on the floor, but then decided against it. If the dog was alone, his banging might trigger it to bark. And then he’d have squeaking and barking to entertain his night.
With a heaving sigh, Derek decided he was going to be dead tired and fail his test the next day.
The next day, when he came back from school, Derek saw a young man exiting from the apartment right underneath him. Fuelled by his tiredness and the utter pile of crap his test was going to be, he marched right to the guy, jabbed him in the chest, and growled, ”Get your dog under control.”
He didn’t stay to listen to the guy’s excuses and almost missed a confused, ”But… I don’t have a dog?”
He stopped and whirled around. ”Then who’s squeaking the damn chew toy day in and day out, huh?”
The guy blushed and didn’t protest.
”Thought so,” Derek snorted.
He was pretty sure his mom would have his hide if she saw how he behaved, but Derek really didn’t care. He just wanted to sleep.
That night, there was no squeaking.
In fact, from there on he heard no squeaking at all. Derek was violently relieved.
”—Don’t get it, Lydia. I can’t study at home. I can’t concentrate and I’m scared that he’ll hit me the next time.”
Derek blinked. He was standing in the cafeteria line, waiting for his turn. He took a cautious look around and saw a guy talking on the phone. He was drumming his fingers on his thigh and his other leg was bumping up and down at a nervous pace. His face was hidden behind the hand holding the phone, so all Derek could see was that he had glasses.
”The meds only work so far,” the guy continued. ”I can’t up my dose more without some big-ass side-effects, and you know how well walking while studying worked the last time.” He signed and rubbed a hand over his face, bumping the glasses on his forehead. ”I just… I thought I had it now, you know? The chew toy was so good, and none of the other neighbors complained! But then he just… jumped on me and practically hit me in the chest—no, it really hurt! He thought I had a dog—”
Derek blinked again, and then a couple of times more. He had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what the discussion was about. He was about to leave the line when the guy turned around, met Derek’s eyes, and let out a muffled yelp.
”You!” he squealed and then hunched over his phone and continued in a stage whisper, ”Lyds, he’s here! Oh my fucking god he’s gonna kill me!” He gave Derek a wide-eyed stare. ”Are you gonna kill me?”
The guy continued his babbling and Derek tried to slink away without a fuss. The students around them were giving him suspicious glances and backing out of the way. A safe distance away, someone was filming him on their phone.
Perfect.
”I’m just… I’ll just go,” Derek offered to no-one in particular and backed off, stumbling on a chair on his way out.
He knew he should try to fix things but he wasn’t sure how. For about half a second, he entertained the idea of calling Laura, but brushed it aside almost immediately. First, the call would cost a fortune and second, she’d never let him live it down.
At the end, he just decided to man up. He bought a twelve-pack of Krispy Kreme donuts and went to ring the downstairs apartment doorbell.
A short moment later, he heard shuffling and the door opened. The guy was barefoot and had a toothbrush in his mouth. When he saw Derek his eyes widened and he took a hurried step back, waving his toothbrush like he could defend himself with it.
”I’m sorry,” Derek blurted out before the guy either choked on his toothpaste or started begging for his life again. ”I didn’t mean to scare you. The squeaking just got to my nerves and— These are for you,” he said and shoved the donut box at the guy.
The guy took the box but didn’t say anything, just stared.
Derek nodded and repeated, ”I’m sorry,” before he turned to slink back into his apartment.
He was halfway up the stairs when he heard hurried steps and, ”Wait— what?”
Derek turned around and the guy was standing at the base of the stairs, a bewildered look in his eyes.
”What?” Derek asked.
”You can’t just— that’s not— I mean— and then— donuts!” the guy sputtered and then seemed to get himself under control with a visible effort. ”Dude, you can’t just threaten me and then give me donuts,” he said flatly. ”I don’t even know your name!”
”What does my name have to do with anything?” Derek asked.
The guy rolled his eyes. ”Because your name is a much better identification than just ’a hot guy with a beard.’” He paused and coughed. ”Not that I’ve called you that. Obviously.”
”Obviously,” Derek echoed, unsure of what else to say.
They stared at each other for a moment, the guy giving him a narrow-eyed look and Derek trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
”Stiles,” the guy then said with finality.
Derek blinked. ”What the hell is a stiles?”
”Ugh, that’s so old,” the guy groaned. ”It’s me. I’m Stiles. That’s my name.”
”I’m sorry?” Derek offered.
Stiles snorted and cocked his head, seeming to wait for something.
A short moment later, Derek got the hint. ”Um, I’m Derek,” he said.
Stiles shot him a brilliant smile. ”Nice to meet you, Derek. Wanna come in for a coffee? I don’t have a dog but I have donuts,” he said with a wink and lifted up the donut box.