He takes a moment to glance down the alley between his building and the next, because about a week after he moved into the building he had first spotted Handsome Hobo as he rummaged through the trash.īut no such luck. Stiles is a bit disappointed that he didn’t get the chance to give the guy… the really handsome hobo, and the alliteration of it is simultaneously driving Stiles nuts for somehow making light of what isn’t a light issue and MAKING HIS DAY… the coffee. There’s a Starbucks across the street from it, but Stiles can’t afford that for himself, and he’d be tempted to splurge for someone who doesn’t look like they have an easy life, but the guy looks like he needs an actual meal more than a venti of steamed milk. Derek would have better luck waking up fifteen minutes earlier and making his own coffee, but if he had that kind of commitment, he wouldn’t be well on his way towards growing a beard, now would he?īy the time Stiles gets back to the front stoop of his building, the guy is gone and Stiles is left holding a steaming take out mug of coffee from the McDonalds at the corner. No one is worse or feels that particular brand of entitlement towards caffeine than professors and PhD candidates who have to deal with undergrads.
Half the time, the heating pad is turned on and no one thought to start another pot, allowing that last quarter of an inch to burn. He’s not really sure what the point of all that was, and isn’t sure he cares.ĭerek smothers another yawn behind the arm of his sleeve and considers whether the staff room will have a fresh pot of coffee or not. If Derek had the energy, he’d scowl, but he’d already expended it shifting his body weight to get out of the guy’s way. The guy shoots him another look before walking down the street. There’s an awkward cough that has him cracking open his right eye to see a handsome plaid-shirt-wearing hipster worrying his lip between his teeth.ĭerek just sighs because he’s not blocking the stairs at all but he shifts more into the cool concrete of the building to let the guy pass. It’s just his luck he left his iPod under a pile of unread journals in his loft. It doesn’t matter if he nods off, he tells himself with the kind of certainty of the exhausted, he’ll hear the bus coming anyway. He sits against the apartment complex’s stoop as the sun fights to emerge and lets his eyes droop. Maybe he’ll just let his beard grow out for the next few months. There’s no way he’ll ever wake up early enough to shave if he has to make it across the city before the sun is even up. His jaw cracks in a big yawn and he regrets taking over Deaton’s morning lectures this semester. Last week, he wore a thumb hole right through, and it was the best, most Eureka part of his week. He’s not freezing, he just needs gloves so he can stop pulling his sweater down over his hands. For now, he has piecemeal layers on, each added to his autumn attire as it got chillier out. He blearily makes a note to dig out his winter gear from storage before the temperature drops any lower. Derek’s trying to warm his fingers against the frigid morning air.