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‘Dude, you had sex with your boss?’ Scott says incredulously, turning to Stiles, pizza forgotten.
‘Technically, he had sex with me, if you know what I mean,’ Stiles winks and waggles his eyebrows exaggeratedly, taking a loud slurp of his soda. He grins when Scott makes a face and covers his eyes. 'Too much information, Stiles.’ Scott says, holding up a hand.
'He’s like the hottest man I’ve ever seen, dude, and he wants to have hot, kinky sex with me. What can be better than that? It’s like my every teenage wet dream come true, except a thousand times better,’ Stiles says, pulling up Google on his phone and typing in 'Derek Hale’. He flips the phone so Scott can see pictures of the dark haired, sexy guy with the most perfect green-blue eyes and stubble. Oh, that stubble, Stiles closes his eyes and smiles, the memory of its rough feel against his burning skin still vivid in his mind.
'You’re imagining the sex, aren’t you?’ Scott says accusingly and Stiles opens his eyes and grins. 'Obviously,’ he says, taking a huge bite of the pizza and leaning back against the couch.
'But, Stiles, relationships between secretaries and bosses never work out, you know that, right?’ Scott asks anxiously but Stiles just shrugs it off. 'What about Danny?’ Scott asks, looking carefully at him.
'Danny and I aren’t really dating, Scott. We occasionally hook up and we never promised to be exclusive,’ Stiles says, waving his hands around.
'So, how’s that any different from what you have with Derek? I mean, you’ve never even been to his place, have you? And he’s certainly never been here.’
'First of all, Derek is a hundred times hotter than Danny and second of all, the sex is a million times more mind-blowing. And by the way, it’s only been what? Three days? I’m sure we’ll end up here or at his place sometime soon,’ Stiles finishes, waggling his eyebrows again.
'I just don’t want you to get hurt, Stiles. And personally, I don’t think it’s a great idea. Sure, he’s hot, but he’s also your boss and things could get nasty.’
'Don’t worry, man. He owns like, half the company. He’s one of the Hales. No one’s gonna find out and no one’s gonna fire me. Relax!’ Stiles says, grabbing the last slice of pizza and laughing at Scott’s sad face. 'Here, loser,’ he grins, giving him half the slice. 'Anyway, I was actually thinking of calling him over, you know. Cook him some dinner, maybe watch a movie, have some fun, you know what I mean,’ he winks.
Scott groans and falls back against the couch with a loud thump. 'Just let me know when that’s happening so I can go crash at Allison’s.’ Stiles laughs and punches his arm. 'What do you say we order some more? I’m still hungry.’
*
When he arrives, his new boss isn’t in. So he settles into his new chair, checks to see if anyone is watching then gives it an experimental spin. Whoa, this chair spins fast, Stiles thinks dizzily after a few rounds. The phone rings and he clears his throat before picking it up.
'Uh, Derek Hale’s office, how may I help you?’ he says, stumbling slightly over the unfamiliar words, his brain still feeling like mush.
'Love, you gotta do better than that,’ says a cool female voice. 'I’m Lydia from the front desk. Remember?’ she goes on and Stiles utters an 'Oh, yes!’ when he realizes she’s the beautiful red head from downstairs.
'Derek’s going to be slightly late today and since he doesn’t really know you exist at the moment, let’s go over the basics of this job, shall we?’ she says crisply and Stiles agrees quickly, pulling a pad of paper towards him and searching his pockets for a pen.
'He gets in at 8.30 am every single day. If he’s going to be late, he’ll call you to let you know. He likes his coffee black; don’t ever try anything with it, he’ll know it and probably throw it in the bin immediately, or at least that’s what I’ve heard, not that I believe in rumors,’ Lydia snorts. 'All his calls will be directed to you, so you’ll be picking them up. Try not to screw up names and businesses, and you’ll be fine. You just need to tell him who’s calling. If he’s away, take a message but never ever tell them why or where he’s gone. Are you taking all this down?’ Lydia suddenly asks.
'Oh, yeah, yeah I am,’ Stiles replies, furiously writing down everything she is telling him.
'Good. Now, sometimes he’ll ask you for more personal tasks, like picking up his laundry or getting his lunch or things like that. That’s part of your job, so never refuse. You’ll also be handling all his appointments and his calendar and he may even ask you to reply to some of his email,’ Lydia pauses here, as if thinking. 'I think that’s it, basically. Oh, one more thing.’
'Yes?’ Stiles asks, stretching out his fingers, his hand cramped from writing so fast.
'Are you gay?’
'What!’ Stiles splutters, turning slightly red. 'What does that have to do with anything?’ Lydia doesn’t answer, just clicks her tongue impatiently.
‘Okay, fine. I’m bisexual. Not that it’s any of your business,’ Stiles finally says and Lydia sighs. 'Why, what’s wrong? Why’d you ask?’
'I asked because I have an awesome gaydar and I didn’t detect you on it,’ she says, sounding slightly disappointed. Stiles stares at the wall opposite him, trying to make sense of where the conversation is headed.
'Um, okay, so your gaydar malfunctioned, so what?’ he asks hesitantly.
'So what? So I owe Erica Reyes forty bucks! That’s what!’ she hisses, 'That woman already gets on my nerves and now her gaydar proved better than mine? No way is that happening.’
'Wait a minute, you bet on me?’ Stiles asks incredulously and Lydia clicks her tongue again impatiently. 'Of course we did. It’s a thing we do with all newcomers.’
'Well, since I am bisexual, you actually kinda half-won,’ Stiles points out and Lydia is silent for a moment before making a victorious noise.
'Yes! Stiles, you’re the best – oh shit, he’s coming.’
There is a loud beep in his ear and he realizes she’d hung up. Stiles puts down the phone and gets up, feeling slightly on edge. From what he’d heard so far, Derek Hale was a very strange man. He could be generous with his bonuses, and strict with rules. He liked things a certain way, and he was rumored to be extremely hot. Quickly, Stiles Googles him and gapes at his phone screen when the pictures load. He scrolls through them slowly, leaning back in his chair.
'Who the hell are you?’ says a deep voice and Stiles jumps. It’s the man from the pictures and in person, he’s even hotter. Stiles feels himself blushing slightly as he quickly turns off his phone and pockets it, turning his attention back to his new boss. His green-blue eyes are hidden behind sunglasses but his extremely nice ass is extremely visible in his extremely tight jeans. Stiles stares at it appreciatively as Derek turns to go into his office, not waiting for Stiles’ answer.
'Uh, I’m Stiles Stilinski, Mr. Hale,’ he says, getting up and hurrying into his office. Derek Hale nods once and hands him his jacket.
'Are you my new secretary? Erica mentioned something about getting me another one,’ Derek says, settling into his chair and powering up his laptop. He sounds pretty normal. Stiles begins to relax a little. Well, as much as he can relax with the world’s hottest man sitting just a few feet away from him.
'That would be correct, Mr. Hale,’ Stiles says, folding the jacket over his arm and wondering where to put it.
'Oh, forget the formalities, just call me Derek,’ his boss says, fixing him with a dazzling smile. Stiles gulps and nods. 'Well, then, you can call me Stiles. Everyone does.’ he replies, and Derek laughs. He has a gorgeous, deep and rumbling laugh. It’s like listening to a roller coaster.
'Who names their kid Stiles?’ he asks with an amused expression.
'Uh, that’s not my real name,’ Stiles begins and Derek raises an eyebrow at him questioningly. 'My real name is Polish and practically impossible to pronounce so, I go by my nickname, and no, I’m not telling you my real name,’ he adds, when Derek opens his mouth.
'I could go to company records and find out, you know,’ Derek says, tapping his fingers absently on his desk and Stiles imagines them running down his spine and splayed over his hips and quickly tamps down the thoughts before he can pop a boner right there.
'You could,’ Stiles agrees, grinning. 'But as long as you never call me by the name, I think we’re good.’
'You’re interesting,’ Derek says after looking at him for a long minute. 'Get me my coffee. Black, two sugars, thank you.’ He adds abruptly after a few seconds.
'Sure thing,’ Stiles says, backing out of his office, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
*
'So how long has this been happening?’ Lydia asks, taking a dainty bite of her sandwich and smiles a little dangerously at Stiles. He’s not sure why but she always makes him nervous, even when she’s asking him normal stuff like 'Did you fax the document I gave you, yet?’ or 'Can you hand me that paper clip?’
'Uh, about five days now,’ Stiles says, sipping his coffee and shoving his other hand in his pocket. Over all, she’s taking it pretty well, if you leave out that scandalized noise she made when he first told her, or how she got mad that he’d hid it from her for so long.
'Well, you know what they say about these relationships, Stiles,’ she says a little gently and Stiles nods, not meeting her eyes.
'I know, Lyds. But, I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about him, and when I’m working for him, I’m having the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. He treats me almost like an equal, not like I’m his employee,’ Stiles says quietly. At first, it had just been about the sex but lately it had begun to be a little bit more and it scared Stiles but it also made him happier than he’d ever felt in a really long time. Lydia reaches over to squeeze his hand. When he looks up, she’s giving him one of her rare, genuine smiles.
'I just don’t want you to – ’
'Get hurt? Yeah, I know,’ Stiles says, squeezing her hand back.
*
'Stiles, are you done with that stupid thing yet?’ Derek calls out in an annoyed voice but Stiles knows its after 8 pm and most of their staff trickled out ages ago at 7 pm and he definitely knows what that means. He pops the pen out of his mouth and grins at Derek, waving.
'Stop waving your hands like a fucking wind mill and get the fuck in here,’ Derek orders and Stiles gives him a thumbs up, caps his pen and shoves all the papers on his desk into a file.
When he walks into Derek’s office, Derek’s staring at the Manhattan skyline from his huge-ass window (it could be a wall, it’s that huge).
'Hey, what’s up?’ Stiles says softly, depositing the file on his desk. His skin feels tingly all over and dick is already twitching slightly at the anticipation of what’s about to happen.
Derek turns with a smirk on his face, his tie loosened and his shirt untucked and open at the collar. His hair is all mussed up from running his fingers through it in frustration every two minutes while checking the associates’ work and his stubble is rough and Stiles knows it will feel wonderful on his thighs. He licks his lips as Derek steps forward, caging him against the desk by placing his hands flat on either side of him.
'We haven’t done it on my desk yet,’ Derek whispers, leaning in and tugging at Stiles’ bottom lip with his teeth and grinning when Stiles hisses in pleasure. 'Yeah sure, wherever, I don’t really care as long as we’re not talking and you’re in me,’ Stiles mumbles, dropping his head on Derek’s shoulder as he palms him through his jeans.
'For someone who doesn’t want to talk a lot, you sure do talk a lot,’ Derek remarks, unzipping Stiles and motioning for him to tug off his jeans while he did the same.
'Shut up, Hale,’ Stiles grins against Derek’s lips and then moans and arches his back when Derek fucks into his mouth with his tongue. It feels good, just as good as Derek’s palms over the flat of his hips, his fingers digging into his flesh just shy of painful.
'Shirt off,’ Stiles manages, breaking the kiss and panting slightly as he twists the buttons open and throws Derek’s shirt on his chair. Leaning forward, he bends to suck at the smooth, tan skin, enjoying the way Derek grunts and squeezes his ass in response. Encouraged, Stiles bites at the skin lightly, soothing the spot with his tongue immediately and pulling back to see Derek’s reaction.
He’s not disappointed. Derek’s pupils are blown and his mouth is open. Stiles smirks, cupping his cheek and rubbing his crotch against Derek’s. Derek grins back slowly, tilting his head just a little so that the tip of Stiles’ forefinger is in his mouth. Watching him closely, Derek sucks at the tip, rolling his tongue around it in a way that makes Stiles’ boxers infinitely more uncomfortable.
Almost awestruck, Stiles stills, pushing in his finger a little more. Derek takes it in, fellating it and hollowing his cheeks. Stiles gasps a little, pulling his finger out slightly and then pushing it back in. Derek moans quietly, letting his mouth be fucked by Stiles’ finger as Stiles watches, eyes wide and body quivering.
‘Liked that, did you?’ Derek asks, smirking as Stiles pulls his finger back with an obscene pop. Derek leans forward, licking the tender spot behind his ear slowly and making Stiles buck under him. His hand dips into the back of Stiles’ boxers.
'Oh god, stop teasing, start doing!’ Stiles pleads almost incoherently, running his hands up the smooth planes of Derek’s back. 'Please, just – oh my god, oh!’ his eyes flutter close as Derek finally slips a finger into him without warning and stretches him open. His knees growing weaker with each little push, he leans heavily against the desk and lets his head fall back. He doesn’t know where Derek got the lube but right now, he doesn’t really care.
'Ready?’ Derek asks after a while, positioning himself and wrapping one hand around Stiles, making him moan.
'Oh god yes, why do you even have to ask – oh god,’ Derek laughs and sets up a steady rhythm, his other hand cupping Stiles’ jaw and pulling him in for a heated kiss.
‘I’m close,’ Stiles squeaks a minute later and Derek pumps faster, grunting and feeling Stiles’ body thrum with pleasure under his. Stiles comes with his loudest moan yet and that’s enough to bring Derek over the edge too; he lets his forehead drop on Stiles’ shoulder and slumps against him, panting slightly.
'Dude, this is kinda gross,’ Stiles says a few moments later when he’s got his breath back. 'Can we wash up now?’ he pushes at Derek and Derek groans but shifts off him so Stiles can walk to the bathroom and clean up.
'If we’ve got come all over my desk, you’re cleaning it up,’ Derek says, following him inside and grabbing a wash cloth.
'What! Why me?’ Stiles asks indignantly as he pulls up his boxers.
'Uh, because I’m your boss and I said so?’ Derek raises an eyebrow, zipping up his jeans and looking around for his shirt. Stiles stares at the faint red bite mark on his chest and grins.
'It’s on the chair,’ Stiles says smugly, pulling his own on. Derek sighs and goes to retrieve it.
'Hey Derek?’ Stiles calls from the bathroom, slowly doing up his buttons.
'Yeah?’
'Would you like to come over tonight? I’m making lasagna and it’s my mum’s recipe and it’s pretty fucking awesome.’ Stiles asks, walking out and leaning against the door frame. Derek’s back is to him and for a moment he doesn’t turn around. But when he does, his expression is unreadable.
'What do you mean?’ he asks slowly.
'I mean, come over to my place, duh,’ Stiles throws his hands up and grins. 'Scott’s going to be at Allison’s, so I’m pretty sure you can spend the night too,’ he adds with a wink, taking a few steps towards Derek and reaching out to fix his tie.
'Stiles, you’ve got it all wrong,’ Derek finally says, stilling Stiles’ hands with his own. Stiles looks up at him, frowning.
'What do you mean?’ he asks a little hesitantly.
'I mean,’ Derek turns, does his tie himself, ’ I mean, you’re not the first secretary I fucked and you’re not going to be the last. I don’t do relationships.’
Stiles stares at his back, feeling hot and cold all over. He grabs onto the back of the sofa for support as Derek powers on his laptop and checks his email.
'So – so you’ve done this before?’ Stiles asks, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
'Obviously,’ Derek says in a matter-of-fact tone, shutting off his laptop and putting it in his bag.
'Why didn’t you – why didn’t you tell me?’
Derek finally looks up and his expression is one of amusement. It makes Stiles wish he had something he could throw at him.
'Are you seriously so upset over us just fucking? If I remember right, you have a great time,’ Derek laughs incredulously. Stiles doesn’t answer, his mouth set in a hard line. ‘You didn’t think we would start dating, did you?’ Derek asks kindly, taking a step towards him. Stiles shrinks back, his eyes burning with unshed tears.
'Fuck you,’ he whispers before leaving, slamming the door behind him.
'Stiles!’ Derek calls out but Stiles ignores him. He grabs his jacket and his keys and walks out of Derek’s offices, letting himself cry only when the elevator doors close.
*
To say Derek Hale had not slowly (if you call a span of two days slow) become the object of Stiles’ fantasies was probably the greatest lie on the planet and one that Lydia Martin would immediately call you on.
'Stiles, stop day dreaming and get me those files I asked for ten fucking minutes ago,’ Derek calls loudly from his office, startling Stiles’ from his reverie. He flails about for a second, rooting through the mess on his desk, looking for the file. What wouldn’t he give to be home right now, jerking off to the memory of Derek’s deep voice and his long fingers tapping his desk impatiently. Stiles sighs and goes to deposit the files on Derek’s desk. He barely looks up.
'Thanks. I’ll be leaving in a bit so just make sure all of today’s records are in order and then you can go too,’ Derek says, finally looking up. Stiles nods, waiting for a dismissal sign but Derek’s just staring at him a little blankly instead, his eyes roaming all over Stile’s body. Stiles feels himself grow a little red and then flees quickly when Derek nods.
It’s no surprise that his jeans are getting slightly uncomfortable. He closes his eyes briefly and places his palms flat on his desk, breathing deeply. It’s no use fantasizing about Derek here. He can’t afford to embarrass himself and lose his job. As it was, the biggest problem of working for Derek was sporting a half hard-on almost all the time.
'I want to check my calendar,’ Stiles opens his eyes with a start and clears his throat. Derek is leaning over Stiles’ desk, his expression enigmatic. Stiles swallows.
'Uh, okay, um, let me just pull it up,’ Stiles mumbles as he opens his laptop and clicks on the little calendar icon. To his surprise, Derek walks around the desk to come stand behind him, leaning over his shoulder to peer at the screen. Stiles tries to calm his breathing but Derek standing centimeters away is totally not helping.
'So, uh, what did you want to check?’ Stiles asks nervously, hyper-aware that one of Derek’s hands was now on his left shoulder, pressing slightly as he leaned over his right shoulder, his face right next to Stiles’ ear. Derek doesn’t reply, but he turns his head infinitesimally so that his warm breath falls into Stiles’ ear. Stiles suppresses a shudder and licks his lips.
'Do you want this?’ Derek asks, his voice slightly husky, sending the most delicious thrill down Stiles’ spine. Stiles closes his eyes, not sure if he’s dreaming or if Derek is really actually asking him if he’s okay with them fucking in his office. He opens his eyes, smiles widely and spins his chair around so that he’s facing Derek.
'Yeah,’ he says, reaching for Derek’s tie and pulling him down for a kiss. 'Definitely.’
*
Stiles walks past the front desk, but doesn’t pause even though Lydia gives him a small, sad smile. If he stops to chat, he won’t be able to go through with it. He takes the elevator to the 86th floor and marches into Derek’s office, slapping his letter of resignation on his desk.
'I’m busy,’ Derek says, raising an eyebrow at him.
'No you’re not,’ Stiles says coldly, flipping his laptop shut. Derek sighs and picks up the letter. He goes through it without comment and hands it back to Stiles.
'Sorry, but your contract says you can’t quit before your six months are up, unless you’re fired,’ he says calmly, opening his laptop again. 'Now make sure the New York Times subscription is renewed and fax this document to Peter ASAP,’ he points to a document on the edge of his desk.
'Fire me then,’ Stiles says, ignoring Derek’s orders. He balls up his letter and throws it on the floor.
'No probable cause, Stilinski,’ Derek says, leaning back in his chair and regarding him intensely. 'And you’re the best goddamn secretary I’ve ever had, so put your grievances aside and get to work because there is no way you’re getting fired or quitting,’ Stiles opens his mouth but Derek cuts him off by holding up his hand, 'Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t care,’ Derek says and turns away, 'Now go. I’m busy and you’re wasting my fucking time.’
Stiles leaves the room, anger boiling in his veins. He couldn’t believe how stupid he had been, how utterly stupid, to actually think Derek Hale would ever love him back, would ever want to date him or have a relationship with him. Of course he was just someone to fuck occasionally, how could he not have seen that? Why the fucking hell had he fallen for that asshole so hard? He wipes his tears quickly on his shirt sleeve and moves around some papers on his desk randomly. Four more fucking months and then he could quit. Stiles takes a deep breath and calls the New York Times subscription office.
*
'What’s this?’ Stiles asks playfully when Derek places a latte on his desk. 'You brought me coffee?’
'Yeah, I figured you worked really late last night, even after I left, so I figured you’d need some,’ Derek says, grinning and taking a sip of his own. Stiles smiles in surprise and reaches to pick it up.
'Mmmm, caramel,’ Stiles closes his eyes in delight and when he opens them, Derek is looking at him happily. 'Yeah, you once mentioned that you loved caramel in your coffee,’ he says, 'Anyway, did you finish proofing all those documents?’
Stiles grins as he hands over a thick folder to Derek.
*
'You could file a sexual harassment suit,’ Scott suggests but Stiles shakes his head.
'It was consensual, they won’t be able to rule in my favour.’
'Stiles, man, I hate to see you like this,’ Scott says anxiously. 'When you told me about him, it didn’t seem like a big deal – it was just great sex, wasn’t it?’
'Scott, it became more than just great sex,’ Stiles mumbles into his pillow. 'He used to bring me coffee, we used to talk like we were friends, we played a prank on Erica together, it felt – I don’t know.’
'That’s harsh,’ Scott pats his back comfortingly. 'I don’t know what you should do, man.’
'Oh, I’ll finish my six months,’ Stiles says bitterly. 'Then I’ll quit and I’ll never see his fucking face again.’
Scott makes a noise of agreement and they fall silent for a while. Stiles wipes at his eyes discreetly and is glad that Scott hasn’t yet said 'I told you so.’ It’s the reason why he loves him so much. He smiles at Scott and pulls him into a hug.
'Thanks man,’ Stiles whispers and Scott grins. 'That’s what bros are for.’
*
'Will you be my date to the company dinner?’ Lydia asks out of the blue one day while they’re having lunch at Stiles’ desk. Stiles half-chokes on his salad and Lydia thumps his back.
'Lydia! Don’t ask a man stuff like that when he’s eating, jeez,’ Stiles complains, sipping at his water. Lydia flips her hair over her shoulder and ignores it. 'So will you be my date?’
'Yeah, okay, but what about Jackson?’ Stiles asks curiously because the last time he’d checked, those two had been pretty much together. 'Weren’t you two going out?’
'Of course we are, silly!’ Lydia exclaims, opening a tiny mirror to check her lip gloss. 'But he’s in Mississippi for some business reason. And Erica has Boyd,’ she adds casually, reapplying her lip gloss. Stiles breaks out in laughter.
'What?’ she looks at him in annoyance. 'If she has a date, I have to have a date.’
'So that’s what’s it’s all about, huh?’ Stiles grins. 'Seriously, why do you seem to hate her guts so much? What did she ever do to you?’
'Hate her? I don’t hate her! She’s kind of like my best friend here,’ Stiles makes a sad puppy face and Lydia quickly amends, 'after you, of course. But she, well, she and I kinda grew up together and we’ve always been like this. She got a boyfriend first,’ Lydia informs him, looking disappointed. 'But I got a tattoo first,’ she adds with barely suppressed glee.
'What! You have a tattoo?’ Stiles gasps, almost falling off his chair. 'Show me!’
Lydia looks at him a little apologetically. 'Well, I haven’t actually got it yet but I’m probably going tomorrow. I have it all planned out. Erica and I have been talking about this for weeks, and now I’m just going to go do it. I think she’s still designing hers,’ Lydia hides a grin, schooling her features into her usual look of mild disapproval.
'What are you getting?’ Stiles asks, 'Where are you getting it?’
'A butterfly. On my ankle,’ Lydia says, pulling out her phone and showing him a picture.
'That’s really pretty,’ Stiles says, trying to keep a straight face. 'What’s Erica getting?’
Lydia scrunches her nose and makes a face. 'Some dragon type thing,’ she says with disdain and Stiles can’t help it, he breaks out laughing.
'What? Why are you laughing?’ Lydia asks, her eyes wide. 'Tell me, Stiles!’
'Nu uh, never gonna do that,’ Stiles grins, getting up and picking up all the take away containers from his desk. 'But I’ll tell you what I will do and that is accompany you to the company dinner as your date,’ he finishes with a flourish and Lydia gives him a small smile. 'Thanks, Stiles.’
'Hey everyone,’ comes a sharp voice from behind them and they turn to see a tall, black haired woman walk in as if she owns the place. 'Where’s Derek?’ Stiles narrows his eyes at her and Lydia bristles visibly.
‘Who are you?’ Stiles asks, walking over to stand in front of her, his arms crossed. 'You don’t have an appointment do you?’ The woman smirks and gives him a quick once over.
'I don’t need an appointment; I’m his girlfriend,’ she says and her eyes crinkle in amusement when Stiles’ mouth falls open at that. 'Oh, he’s fucked you, hasn’t he?’ Stiles splutters but Lydia gets up, a fierce look on her face.
'That’s none of your business. Now please leave before I can call security,’ she hisses and the woman grins at them. 'Teaming up on me, eh? Well, tell Derek, Jennifer dropped by to ask about the dinner tonight. He’ll know what it means,’ she says with a wink, turning to leave.
'What the hell was that?’ Lydia asks incredulously when she’s gone. Stiles, still looking at the door, shakes his head mutely, trying not to let the fact that she’s Derek’s girlfriend hurt him as much as it was.
*
Stiles yawns and rubs his eyes tiredly. Ever since Derek and he stopped – well, you know – things have been awkward as hell. Derek’s orders are now crisp and short, and their flirtatious banter and friendly talks are gone. If he ever needs something important done, he calls Lydia, explains the whole thing to her and asks her to explain it to him. If he wants reservations made or lunches brought, he emails or texts Stiles with the most formal of words.
Stiles shakes his head and takes a sip of his coffee, running his finger down another column of numbers; stupid fucking numbers ruining his life. Derek had asked him to finish it before Monday but he’d forgotten so now he was sitting in his goddamn office at 11.30 pm on a Sunday, working. He almost dozes off in the middle of another column and when he reaches for his coffee mug, it’s empty. He sighs.
'Fucking coffee,’ he mutters, getting up to fill his mug. But when he tilts the pot nothing comes out of it. Cursing, he slams the mug as hard as he dares into the sink and makes his way back to his desk because if it’s one thing Stiles Stilinski does not have the goddamn energy for right now, it’s making another stupid pot of coffee.
He stops short when he sees Derek lounging in his chair. 'Fuck,’ he mutters, walking over slowly.
'Stiles,’ Derek slurs and gives him a sloppy grin, spinning in his chair. 'Whoa, this chair spins fast,’ he says, stopping it with his foot and making a face.
'Don’t you dare throw up over my desk,’ Stiles hisses, grabbing the files he’s been working on and stuffing them into his bag. Great. Now not only does he have work to finish and no coffee, he also has to deal with a drunk Derek. No way in hell is he staying in the office with him; he’ll go home and finish the work and come early to drop it off so that no one finds out he took the files outside the building without permission. Stiles reaches for his keys but Derek grabs his hand and looks at him with a curious expression.
'Where are you going?’ he asks, stumbling over his vowels. Stiles ignores the tingly feeling of skin to skin contact and snatches his hand away.
'I’m going home to finish this work you gave me,’ he says, figuring Derek is too drunk to reprimand him or remember. He turns away from Derek and grabs his jacket.
'Don’t go, Stiles,’ Derek calls out, his tone desperate, 'Jennifer and I had a fight,’ he sounds like he’s crying.
Stiles pauses for a tiny second but then shakes his head and marches towards the elevators. He presses the call button and waits. His fingers wrap around his wrist, the same spot Derek had touched just moments ago and Stiles hates himself for responding to his touch the same way he used to. He jabs at the call button again, closing his eyes and willing himself not to look back.
It works only for a minute, and then he’s turning to sneak a look. Derek’s still sitting in his chair, looking absolutely dejected. He’s staring out of the window, his profile sharp in the dim light. Stiles sighs. If he leaves Derek here, he doesn’t know how he’ll get home or what he’ll do. And if he stays till the morning, the first thing people see when they come in for work will be their hungover boss, and okay, so Derek screwed him over big time, but Stiles has to do it for the company, not for Derek himself. He drops his bag onto the nearest desk and goes back into Derek’s offices.
'I’ll take you home,’ Stiles says quietly, leaning against the door frame. 'Get up.’
Derek turns and looks at him blankly and then gets up without comment. He stumbles over to Stiles and pulls him into a hug without any warning. Stiles freezes. Derek’s arms are around his shoulders, Derek’s face is buried in his neck. Though they’d fucked before and seen each other naked and open, the intimacy of this gesture leaves Stiles breathless and makes his heart ache. Slowly he brings his arms around Derek’s waist, hugging him back awkwardly. They stay like that for a minute, Derek’s tears wet against Stiles’ neck.
'Okay, let’s get you home, shall we?’ Stiles finally asks, pushing at Derek gently.
'Thanks, Stiles,’ Derek murmurs, unlatching himself from him and walking towards the elevators.
*
Stiles knows it’s a mistake but he can’t, he just can’t have left Derek in the offices and gone home and worked and slept and done normal things. He stares straight ahead, not looking even once at Derek, slumped in the passenger seat, probably drooling on the window he had pressed his face against.
The roads are clear, there is no traffic. Stiles fiddles with the radio and turns the volume down. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the memory of Derek hugging him out of his mind. He can still feel his arms around him, his breath on his neck. He can still feel that ache in his heart.
'I was such a dick to you,’ Derek mumbles after a while. Stiles jumps because he thought Derek had fallen asleep. 'I shouldn’t have been,’ Derek continues. Stiles doesn’t respond because he knows that if he says something, he won’t be able to stop. And Derek’s drunk anyway. There’s a very good chance he won’t even remember this in the morning.
'Paige,’ Derek says after a long time, turning and resting his head against the headrest, face towards Stiles, 'We were fifteen and I loved her. I really loved her. She was the only one who understood me, you know? What with Mum busy with her galas and dinners and lunches, and Dad off for business trips every two days, no one really had any time for me.’ Derek laughs humorlessly. 'Laura had escaped to NYU, Cora was too young. I spent all my time with Paige.’
There is a long pause in which Stiles says nothing. He doesn’t know whether he wants to hear the rest of the story or not. He doesn’t know what he’s even doing here, at this point.
'Then Paige died,’ Derek says dully and Stiles turns to look at him in shock. 'Car accident. I made it out alive, she died on the spot.’
'I’m really sorry,’ Stiles says quietly, wishing he had something better to say. He swallows and turns back to the road.
'They sent me to rehab because I started using. Laura came back for spring break and tried to talk to me but I didn’t listen to anything she said. Instead I went out that night and got high and drank till I passed out and woke up on the side of the main road,’ Derek continues, rubbing at a spot on the car seat, over and over again.
'I met Kate in rehab. I didn’t know she was a psychopath; I fell in love, stupidly, even though she was so much older than me. The sex was great,’ Derek grins, his slur more pronounced. He punches Stiles on the arm playfully. Stiles doesn’t look at him. 'But we fought about the stupidest things and she’d go hurt herself whenever we got mad at each other,’ he fingers his wrists unconsciously and Stiles suddenly feels a lump form in his throat. A part of him doesn’t want to know any more because it’s making it hard for him to hate Derek. But another part, the part with the ache in his heart, really wants to just stop the car and pull the broken man next to him in a never-ending hug.
'And one day, she just burnt down my house,’ Derek says, his tone expressionless. Stiles swerves to avoid a car, turning a shocked face to the man next to him. 'She was mad I couldn’t come to Christmas at her place, so instead of hurting herself, this time she just –’ Derek stops. Stiles is numb. He doesn’t even know what’s happening; it feels like he’s driving the car but also like he’s not driving the car and is just watching the scene unfold from some very far away place.
'Peter and his wife took me in. They sent me back to rehab, gave me a job…’ Derek trails off, not looking at Stiles anymore. 'And now, it’s Jennifer. It’s only been, like, what… two weeks? But she wants to merge our firms, wants me to talk to Peter,’ he pauses, trailing a finger along the dashboard. 'And I just can’t – I can’t help but feel she just wants me for my money, you know,’ he slurs, rubbing a hand across his face. 'God, I’m so drunk.’
'You are,’ Stiles says quietly, his knuckles white from clenching the wheel so tightly.
'How do you know where I live anyway?’ Derek asks, the syllables long and wide. Stiles doesn’t answer for a moment.
'I used to drop off and pick up your laundry,’ he finally says, turning to look at him. Derek’s fallen asleep, his head falling back against the seat. Stiles pulls the car into the driveway and closes his eyes briefly. 'I used to,’ he murmurs.
He undoes his seat belt, and reaches over for Derek’s. In the dim light, Derek’s face is cast in shadows. Stiles can see that he hasn’t shaved for a while and pushes down the desire to rub his fingers along his jaw and lean in for a kiss. Instead he pats his arm, shaking him slightly, telling him to wake up.
*
Derek stumbles over to the couch and sinks onto it with a groan. 'Ugh, my head hurts,’ he mutters. Stiles stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, wondering if he should just leave, now that Derek was safely home and all that. Really, there was no reason for him to stay. 'I just wanna sleep forever and ever and ever,’ Derek says, his words slightly muffled because he’d buried his face in a couch cushion.
'Okay then, um, I’ll just…’ Stiles pauses, looks around. 'I’ll just get you some water, and then I’ll go,’ he finishes, his gaze settling on the glasses on the kitchen counter. He walks over to fill up a glass and walks back to the couch to hand it to Derek, gingerly taking a seat next to him.
'Drink it, it’ll make you feel better,’ Stiles says. Derek grunts and downs it in one go, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He sets the glass down on the coffee table and lets his head fall into his hands. 'God, I feel so terrible,’ he murmurs and Stiles gives in to the urge and places a hand cautiously on his knee. 'It’ll be okay in the morning,’ he whispers. Derek looks up and gives him a watery smile which Stiles returns. They stare at each other for what seems like hours to Stiles before he realizes his hand is still on Derek’s knee.
'Oh, uh, haha,’ he blushingly removes his hand but Derek grabs hold and laces his fingers with his. Alarm bells start going off in Stiles’ head; this is not good, this not good, it can only end badly, Derek is drunk, Derek won’t remember this, Derek doesn’t love him, stop it Stiles – but he ignores them, staying stock still as Derek leans over slowly, cupping his cheek, running a thumb over his jaw, looking into his eyes.
Stiles knows this is a bad idea, but he lets his eyes flutter close as Derek brushes his lips against his, his hand moving to the back of Stiles’ head to pull him closer, his fingers brushing lightly through his hair. Stiles knows he will regret it, but he tilts his head and lets Derek’s tongue lick the seam of his lips, he lets Derek press his tongue against his mouth and opens it so he can taste him.
It’s nothing like their previous kisses. It’s slow, gentle and sweet. There’s no heat; it makes Stiles wants to curl up next to Derek, fall asleep next to him and wake up next to him. He feels his own hand coming up to brush against Derek’s cheek, his jaw, the back of his neck; but then the reality of the situation hits him hard and he pushes Derek away, tears in his eyes.
'I’m sorry, I can’t do this,’ Stiles whispers, rubbing at his mouth, trying to get rid of the feel of Derek’s lips against his. 'We shouldn’t have done this,’ he says, 'We shouldn’t have done this.’
Derek says nothing and makes no move to pull him back so Stiles gestures awkwardly at nothing before walking out, trying to calm the panicked feeling in his chest.
*
'You what?!’ Lydia says and Stiles makes frantic hushing noises. 'Sorry, you what!?’ she repeats in a loud whisper, pulling off her headset and getting up. 'Come here,’ she says, grabbing Stiles’ arm and dragging him to a door down the corridor. She checks to see if anyone’s watching and then pulls Stiles through and closes it behind him.
'Lydia, this is the women’s bathroom!’ Stiles hisses but she ignores him. 'Tell me what happened,’ she orders, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently on the floor.
'What if someone sees us!?’ Stiles asks, throwing his hands up and looking around at the empty bathroom. 'Relax, Stilinski, no one comes in here this early, I know,’ Lydia frowns impatiently and walks over to the little alcove in a corner, hidden by the towel rack. 'And if someone does, you can hide here. Now spill it before I do something drastic.’
'Okay, okay, I’ll tell you,’ Stiles says, holding up his hands defensively. 'I was here late last night –’
'You were here on a Sunday?’ Lydia interrupts, and Stiles gives her a look. 'Do you want me to tell you or not? Anyway, yes, I was working because I had forgotten to do something and Derek needed it today. So I get up to get some more coffee and when I come back to my desk, he’s sitting in my chair, all drunk and stupid-looking. So I get my stuff and I’m about to leave when I realize, well, I couldn’t just leave him there, could I?’ Stiles asks a little anxiously.
'No, of course not, go on,’ Lydia says, twisting a strand of hair around her forefinger and looking at Stiles intently.
'So, I tell him I’ll drive him home and he just gets up and hugs me, without a word and I’m just standing there awkwardly, and he’s hugging me.’ Stiles rubs at his neck and shrugs bemusedly.
'And then?’ Lydia asks, her eyes wide. 'What happened next?’
'Well, on the ride there, he pretty much, uh, told me everything about himself. And oh God, Lydia, he’s had such a shitty life! I felt so sorry for him, I just…’ Stiles trails off and Lydia’s expression grows a little softer. 'That bad?’ she asks quietly and Stiles’ nods.
'Then we went up to his apartment and I got him some water and we were just sitting there and he leaned over and kissed me,’ Stiles says in a rush, not daring to look at Lydia.
'Oh, Stiles,’ she says, taking hold of his hands and squeezing them slightly.
'It was the sweetest kiss ever, Lydia. I just – I just wanted it to go on forever and ever but he was drunk and he probably doesn’t even remember but I do and it’s just going to plague me for the rest of my life, oh god, Lydia, what did I do?’
Lydia makes little comforting noises as she pulls him in for a hug, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his back. 'Stiles,’ she says, pulling back a little, her hands still on his shoulders, 'do you – do you think you love him?’ she asks, looking at him. Her smile is a little sad.
'I think – I think I do,’ Stiles says, rubbing a hand over his face and sighing loudly.
'Oh, Stiles – shit, hide!’ she pushes him roughly into the alcove and straightens her skirt as someone enters the bathroom. Stiles rubs at his arm, wincing slightly and peers around the corner. He sees Lydia walking towards the mirrors and taking out her lip gloss. She smooths it over her lips and then gives a tight smile to whoever is next to her and Stiles’ hears her heels click away. He closes his eyes and tries not to make a sound.
There’s the sound of another pair of heels and then, the click of a phone and then silence. Stiles wonders who it is and why they’re not just going about their business and leaving. Derek will probably be here by now and will be wondering where the hell Stiles is. He presses his back against the wall and tries to make himself as flat as possible.
'Hi, it’s me,’ comes a voice and Stiles realizes with a shock that it’s Jennifer. 'It’s done. He said yes last night after I went back to talk to him,’ she continues and Stiles wonders who she’s talking to and why she had come to the bathroom to do it. 'Don’t worry, he doesn’t suspect a thing. Yeah, I’m having lunch with him today, to keep up appearances. Ok, uh huh, yeah I’ll do that. See you at eight. Don’t forget the paperwork.’
Stiles frowns, sensing that something was terribly wrong. As far as he remembers, and he’s the best goddamn secretary so he did remember, Derek has a lunch date scheduled with Jennifer that day. He waits impatiently until he hears Jennifer leave, then bolts out of the bathroom and slides to a halt in front of Lydia’s desk.
'Lydia, is he in yet?’ he asks, ignoring her raised eyebrows. 'Yeah, he just walked in like, five minutes ago.’ she says, 'Why?’
'Something has gone terribly wrong; meet me in lunch break in Derek’s offices,’ Stiles says quickly before rushing to catch the elevator two seconds before the doors slid shut.
*
When Stiles walks in, Derek doesn’t even look up from his work. Stiles glances over at his desk – there’s a pile of folders and papers on it that Derek has left for him to go through; evidently he either doesn’t remember last night or he remembers but doesn’t want to talk about it.
Stiles is not very surprised, but he can’t stop the disappointment rising like bile in his throat. He sits in his chair and fidgets with the files, opening and closing them at random, not really taking in anything. He shoots another glance at Derek but he’s still busily typing away at his laptop. Stiles’ own fingers flutter nervously at his side and he’s just about to grab his mug and get some coffee, thinking maybe that might help calm him, when Derek sighs irritably from his office and turns to him with narrowed eyes.
'Stop fidgeting. What do you want?’ he calls out coldly and Stiles’ heart drops low in his chest and he gets up to walk into his office, shutting the door behind him.
'Derek, I need to talk…’ Stiles starts but Derek cuts him off.
'Mr. Stilinski,’ Derek says, pronouncing each syllable carefully. 'Nothing happened last night,’ he continues, laying particular emphasis on 'nothing’. Stiles stares at him, speechless. 'Now, do you still want to talk to me?’ Derek asks, a hard edge to his voice.
'Yes,’ Stiles says a little forcefully. 'It’s not about the stupid kiss,’ Derek remains expressionless, 'though, it doesn’t surprise me that you don’t want to talk about that.’
'And yet you’re speaking of it right now,’ Derek says angrily, slamming his fist on the desk. Stiles flinches and takes a step back.
'It’s about Jennifer,’ Stiles continues, forcing himself to ignore the anger and disappointment pooling low in his stomach. 'She’s planning something; I overheard her on the phone and she was talking to someone about paperwork and you agreeing to something.’
'Is this about us getting back together?’ Derek asks, and Stiles stares at him. 'You think by making up stories about Jennifer, I’ll dump her and come back to you?’ Stiles can’t even believe it. How can Derek say such a thing?!
'Are you seriously serious right now? You think I’m doing this just so I can have five fucking minutes of sex with you every now and then?’ Stiles manages to say, tears blinding him but he will not cry in front of Derek, he will not.
'Yeah, maybe I do think that,’ Derek shrugs and Stiles clenches his fists so hard that he’s probably going to leave marks.
'Then you’re wrong, but you know what? I’m not even going to explain why. I just wanted to tell you to be careful about Jennifer because I think she is planning something terrible for your firm.’ Stiles tries one last time.
Derek narrows his eyes and glares at Stiles. 'Jennifer Blake is going to become a name partner. I suspect that’s what she was talking about. For that she will have to sign paperwork, because that’s how things like these are finalized,’ Derek says, his voice heavy with sarcasm and suppressed anger. 'Now, if you don’t have anything better to do than sit around listening in on other people’s perfectly normal conversations, why don’t you take the day off?’
Stiles stares at him, trembling slightly. Then without another word, he walks out.
*
'Hey, I was thinking of going to Allison’s for a bit,’ Scott says a little hesitantly, 'You okay if I go? You don’t need anything?’ Stiles half-raises his head from where he’s sprawled on the couch, watching crap TV.
'No, no, I’ll be fine. You go on,’ he waves his hand towards the door and gives Scott a small smile. 'It’s okay, I’ll just sit here watching TV anyway.’ Scott returns the smile and shrugs on his jacket.
'Okay then, don’t finish all the Cheetos, okay?’ Scott calls as he opens the door. 'I won’t! Have fun!’ Stiles calls out, flopping back on the couch with a sigh. He turns glazed eyes to the screen, not really watching, but it’s better than sitting alone and doing nothing. Or stress-eating, which he has been doing a lot of. He shifts around, trying to get comfortable and determinedly does not think about Derek.
Lydia had called him the day before, making small, apologetic sounds throughout the conversation. 'He, um, wants me to tell you that you have to come in tomorrow,’ Lydia had said, causing Stiles to snort. 'That is not happening,’ Stiles had said matter-of-factly and Lydia had sighed heavily.
'Stiles, what happened?’
'I don’t want to talk about it.’
'Okay, but um, he sounds really mad and he’s being extra mean to everyone,’ Lydia had said and Stiles had laughed humorlessly. 'Oh he’s not being extra mean, that’s just his default setting.’
'Okay, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. But if you need anything, you know you can just ask, right?’ Lydia had said gently. 'Thanks, Lyds,’ Stiles had said. 'Oh and Lydia?’ he said, his tone harder, just as she was about to hang up, 'Tell him if he wanted me to evenconsider coming back, he should have called me himself.’
Stiles frowns as he thinks back to that conversation and then shakes his head, scrabbling about for the remote. It’s time he switched from Animal Planet to some random game show. The wombats are depressing him further. He’s just started to flip through the channels when his phone rings. He scrambles about for it and eventually digs it out from under him.
'Yeah,’ he says tiredly, not even bothering to check who it is.
'Stiles, turn to channel 67,’ comes Scott’s urgent voice. 'Why, what’s wrong? Did something happen?’ Stiles asks a little anxiously as he tunes in to the channel. 'Oh,’ he says when he reads the loud, red headline. 'HALE & LAHEY TAKES A HIT WHEN BLAKE & DAEHLER MOVES FORWARD IN A HOSTILE TAKEOVER’
'You were right,’ Scott says quietly but Stiles doesn’t respond.
'Early this morning, Jennifer Blake, name partner of Blake & Daehler, announced at a press conference that their friendly merger with Hale & Lahey, one of New York’s top law firms, was friendly no longer. Blake & Daehler fully proposes to takeover over the latter, eliminating some fierce competition. No comments are available from Derek Hale and Isaac Lahey, the two managing partners of Hale & Lahey but it is entirely possible that both will lose their jobs or be demoted while Jennifer Blake & Matt Daehler take over. Many employees of the former Hale & Lahey are rumored to have been let go already,’ says the female reporter coolly and Stiles watches the video shift from a view of the building from the outside to a clip from the press conference, with Jennifer sitting there with a smug face.
'Hey, you okay?’ Scott asks and Stiles starts, realizing that he’s still on the phone.
'Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,’ he says and hangs up.
Sinking down on the couch, he cradles his head in his hands. He was right. He was right about Jennifer and Derek hadn’t believed him but he was right. And now Derek had nothing. He reaches for the remote and turns off the TV just as the doorbell rings. It’s probably the pizza guy, Stiles thinks dully, getting up and looking around for his wallet.
'Stiles.’
Its Derek standing there, when he opens the door, looking absolutely wrecked. It must be raining outside because he’s also slightly wet. 'Can we please talk?’
*
Derek sets the pizza box he’s holding on the coffee table. 'I paid for it. I hope you don’t mind,’ he says quietly.
'You shouldn’t have,’ Stiles says coldly, crossing his arms and glaring at him. 'Why are you here?’
'I, um, I just wanted to say you were right,’ Derek starts hesitantly but Stiles doesn’t say a word. 'About Jennifer, I mean. I should’ve listened to you,’ Derek says, looking at him with an expression Stiles can’t figure out, won’t figure out, doesn’t want to figure out.
'Did you just realize that?’ he asks instead, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
'It was stupid of me,’ Derek says, 'I should’ve looked into it when you said something, I should’ve listened,’ he trails off, looking at Stiles with a slightly expectant expression on his face. Stiles raises his eyebrows.
'What do you want me to say, Derek?’ he asks tonelessly. They stare at each other for a while before Derek averts his eyes.
'I don’t know,’ Derek finally admits and Stiles shifts from one foot to the other. 'Then why are you here?’
'I came to tell you that you were right,’ Derek repeats and Stiles makes a little impatient noise.
'You’ve done that already. Twice, I may add,’ he says. Derek falls silent.
'I came also because, I wanted, um,’ he pauses, fiddling with his jacket that he was holding in his hands, 'I wanted to see how you were; you haven’t been coming in for some time,’ he says quietly.
Stiles’ mouth drops open incredulously and he laughs. 'Wanted to see how I was? You think I haven’t been coming in because I’m sick? Are you really so stupid and self-centered that you don’t even realize how much you hurt me that day? And, fine,’ he says, angrily smacking the back of the sofa, 'Fine, you don’t realize it. But if this 'wanted to see how you were’ business is even one per cent true, you’re too late to the party, dude. This would have only made any difference had you done this on the very first day I didn’t show up.’
'I called,’ Derek starts to say but Stiles cuts him off immediately.
'Oh no, no. Lydia called,’ he corrects him.
'But I came here, didn’t I!’ Derek says defensively. 'Doesn’t that count for anything?’
'Well, of course you’d come here now,’ Stiles tells him coldly. 'Otherwise you would have seemed like the world’s biggest asshole,’ he looks around, as if paused in thought, 'Oh no, wait, you are the world’s biggest asshole. Congratulations.’
'Stiles, I know you’re angry at me,’ Derek is pleading now.
'Damn right I am,’ Stiles finally bursts out furiously. 'You played with me, fucked me and made me think it was something special with all your friendly banter and coffees and shit. And then you tell me that no, it’s just something you do with practically everyone and okay, you know what? I could’ve moved on from that, if I had the time. I could have done it. But then you got stupid drunk and I had to take you home and, wait, you know what? Just forget it,’ he says angrily. 'Just forget it. I don’t even care anymore.’ He takes the pizza box from the coffee table and thrusts it into Derek’s hands.
'You want forgiveness? Okay, I forgive you. But that doesn’t mean you get to waltz back into my life and make me feel like shit again. Now take your pizza and just go, because we’re done,’ he says, holding open the door. Derek stares at him and Stiles knows what he’ll see if he meets his eyes, so he doesn’t look at Derek.
'If you want to quit, I can send over the papers, no questions asked,’ Derek says quietly as he passes him.
'Thank you,’ Stiles says stiffly, closing the door behind him and leaning against it heavily, letting the tears fall.
*
Scott sometimes reads out the bits of news about Hale & Lahey and Derek and Stiles will never admit it, not even to himself, but he slowly pieces together what happened. Allison tells him about Isaac Lahey retiring, leaving Derek alone to manage the debris of his firm. Scott reads him a piece about Derek starting from scratch, as a single managing partner and Stiles knows how hard that is in a cut-throat city like New York. Then Lydia calls one day and for the first five minutes he feels guilty for never calling her but she understands and they go out for drinks but they don’t talk about the firm and Stiles is glad. He lets her tell him all about Erica and her dragon tattoo, which, naturally, Lydia hates. He laughs and promises to go out again.
If Stiles was asked, he would say he’s coping well. It helps that he doesn’t have to see Derek everyday anymore, and that the only news he has is official and not personal. But if he was to be super honest, he missed Derek. He missed their talks and the easy relationship they had before everything collapsed. And strange as it was, a part of him had actually forgiven Derek for what he did. It wasn’t okay but it was alright because Derek was broken and flawed and scared. And Stiles had seen that.
When he read about his problems as a single managing partner, his heart ached like it did on that drunk car ride home that now seemed ages ok. So maybe Stiles wasn’t okay, but as long as on the surface, he looked okay, all was good.
*
'Just a couple more, Stiles and then you can go. Oh, no, wait,’ Kira mutters, swiping her fingers over her tablet rapidly, 'Sorry, you have some pictures too.’ She looks up to catch Stiles’ mock-sad face, complete with the puppy eyes, and grins apologetically. 'It’ll take ten minutes more, tops,’ she says, peeking out from behind the screen. 'The line isn’t that long.’
'It isn’t?’ Stiles asks, eyebrow raised as he catches glimpse of the long queue snaking all the way to the cafe door. 'Oh, just do it. You just have to sit there and sign and smile; now don’t be such a grumpy cat,’ she chides gently and he grins.
'Anything for you,’ he says as he caps his water bottle and musses up his hair, stepping out from behind the screen. There is a collective applause and a rise in the noise levels and he grins at the crowd before settling back into his chair. Kira hovers somewhere in the background.
'Hi,’ Stiles grins at a young woman and she almost swoons. 'What’s your name?’ he asks, flipping her book open to the empty page in the front. 'June,’ she smiles nervously. 'Well, June, I hope you liked the book,’ Stiles says, scrawling his name with a flourish, 'Well, you obviously liked it, silly me, or you wouldn’t be here,’ he babbles and she gives him a blinding grin before waving goodbye and walking off, squealing about something to her friend.
'You see, they love you,’ Kira whispers in his ear and he smiles at her before looking up to see who the next person is. His grin fades.
He’s still the same, not that Stiles really expected him to change in a span of two years. He’s wearing gloves and a warm, fur jacket and he’s smiling shyly, holding out a copy of Stiles’ book. Stiles’ eyes linger on his stubble and his green-blue eyes before he reaches forward for the book and signs his name.
'Hi,’ Derek says quietly.
'Hi,’ Stiles returns, capping his pen.
'Um, is it okay if I wait for you?’ Derek asks, pointing to the empty tables near the window. Stiles nods.
'Yeah, um, I’ll be done in ten minutes I think.’ Derek picks up the book, hugging it to his chest. 'Okay, I’ll see you in a bit then,’ he smiles again and Stiles can’t help but smile back. 'Okay,’ he murmurs as Derek moves off.
'Who’s that?’ Kira whispers and Stiles shakes his head. 'Um, just an old – friend,’ he says, not looking at her.
'So, how long should this take?’ he asks and Kira looks at him carefully before sighing. 'We can cancel the photographs.’
Stiles smiles widely at her and gives her a one-armed squeeze. 'Thanks, Kira, you’re the best,’ he says, motioning for the next person to come forward.
*
Stiles slips into the seat opposite Derek and tucks his hands in his pockets. Derek pushes a coffee towards him. 'I got you some,’ he says as Stiles reaches for it.
'Caramel?’ Stiles asks after a slight pause and Derek raises an eyebrow. 'Obviously.’
'You remember how I take my coffee,’ Stiles states but Derek only smiles in reply. They sit there for a moment, sipping their coffees. Stiles is hyper aware of how their legs are almost touching under the table, how his coffee takes fucking perfect, how Derek’s eyes are lingering over his face.
'Did you even read my book or did you just get it so you could have it signed and have an excuse to talk to me?’ Stiles finally asks, setting his cup down.
'Of course I read it,’ Derek says. 'And I loved it,’ he adds. 'I didn’t know you liked to write or that you were so talented at it.’ Stiles averts his eyes and plays with his napkin.
'Well, there’s a lot of things you didn’t know,’ he mutters and Derek clears his throat.
'So, um, is that your girlfriend?’
'So, what are you doing here?’
They both fall silent and then make little motions for the other to go first. Stiles gives in first.
'No, she’s my agent, Kira,’ he says, picking up his coffee again. Derek nods, looking at her and then takes a deep breath.
'Stiles,’ he begins, looking at him intently. 'I’m sorry for what I did to you.’ Stiles swallows and doesn’t speak. A part of him can feel Derek’s earnestness and wants to reach out and take his hand, lying next to the milk jug. But the other part of him, the part that still stings when he thinks of Derek is holding up a big 'no’ sign in his head.
'You forgave me then, or so you said, but we both know you didn’t really,’ Derek goes on, 'I know that nothing I can say can undo what happened but I, um, I just wanted to see if there’s a chance to make things right with you,’ he finishes, holding on to his coffee cup as if it were his life line.
Stiles still doesn’t speak. He can’t say anything, his mouth feels like cotton and he feels as if when he starts to say something, everything will come out tangled and broken. Derek stares at him quietly for a minute before nodding slightly.
'I, um, got a new secretary,’ he says after a little while.
'Oh, yeah, did you fuck him yet?’ Stiles can’t help but say it. Derek doesn’t look offended though.
'No, I didn’t and I don’t plan on it either.’ Stiles looks away. His coffee is almost finished and they’ve gotten nowhere. He swirls the last of the coffee in the cup with a twist of his wrist and debates whether he should get up and just leave or if he should stay and let hope permeate him again.
'Stiles,’ Derek says finally, breaking a long silence.
'Yeah?’ he asks, looking up.
'I miss you,’ Derek whispers. Stiles stops mid-twist, his heart beating faster. 'I miss you so fucking much, and I can’t do this without you. For a year I have been a single managing partner with a vulnerable and weak firm and a shitty secretary, to boot,’ Stiles smiles despite himself. 'And yesterday, I just – I just realized I couldn’t do it.’
'Derek,’ Stiles starts but Derek cuts him off and reaches across the table, hesitantly, to lace Stiles’ fingers with his. 'You were more than my secretary, Stiles. I was just too stupid to realize it,’ he admits, stroking a thumb over the back of Stiles’ hand. 'I don’t have the right to ask you for anything after what I did and said,’ he goes on earnestly and Stiles keeps sitting perfectly still. 'So, I won’t ask questions if you don’t want me in your life anymore. I can see you’re happy,’ he says with a small smile, eyes flicking to the copy of Stiles’ book that lay on the table between them. 'And I don’t want to take anything away from you. Not anymore.’
‘Derek,’ Stiles says, squeezing his fingers slightly.
Derek looks at him with such naked hope on his face that Stiles has to pause and gather his thoughts before continuing.
‘I miss you too,’ Stiles finally admits. Derek stares at him unbelievingly for a minute before grinning in obvious relief. They smile at each other shyly for a minute before Derek clears his throat.
‘I, um, I was just thinking,’ Derek starts. ‘You’re too good to be a secretary and you have a brilliant legal mind. If you went to law school, you could actually be a managing partner.’
Stiles looks surprised. ‘I would kill to have a managing partner like you,’ Derek smiles.
‘Derek,’ Stiles says, ‘I don’t mean to offend you but I’ve found my passion. I love to write. I always have. I just never had anything to write but now I do and this is what I am. This is me, now,’ he squeezes Derek’s hand again. ‘I’m flattered that you think I have a brilliant legal mind but law bores me and I’m not interested in it.’
‘That’s totally fine!’ Derek tells him. Stiles grins.
‘But you know who did go through law school and also has a brilliant legal mind?’ Stiles asks. Derek shakes his head, looking confused.
‘Lydia Martin,’ Stiles says. ‘She’s smart and focused and she’s never told me why the hell she’s a receptionist when she could be so much more but maybe she’ll tell you.’
Derek’s expression breaks out in a grin and he ducks his head. ‘See, this is what I missed about you,’ he raises his head again and then swallows. ‘So, um, what now?’ he asks, looking vulnerable and scared.
‘Now,’ Stiles pauses, ‘we take this slow,’ he pulls his hands away and sits back in his chair. ‘Very slow,’ he adds, narrowing his eyes warningly.
‘That’s a great plan,’ Derek tells him quietly. ‘I want to get to know you.’
‘Me too,’ Stiles whispers, feeling happy.