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Hey, honey

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Derek had already had a shitty day. He had woken up to no cereals nor milk, courtesy of his dear uncle Peter. His sister Cora was stuck in New York because someone had snitched on her and that Jackson boy she had been dating for a while, who was also her boss and who Derek had warned her against several times. Deputy Parrish had spent the entire day describing him his weekend with Deputy Braeden, much to his utter dismay. An emergency party had been called for a missing cat, but since it was the mayor’s cat they had all been forced to attend. And his meeting with Isaac’s teacher had ended with Derek threatening to rip the man’s neck out and Isaac choking with laughter in the background.

So, no, when someone jumped in his car out of fucking nowhere and started shouting “go go go!”, Derek had wanted to punch him in the face, even as he reflexively started the car.

“What the fuck-” he started to say, before he almost swallowed his entire tongue when he finally looked at who was sitting in the other chair.

The man had almost shoulder length brown hair and a couple of moles on his face. A pair of shades were covering his eyes, and his lips were the most distracting thing Derek had ever seen. Especially since the dude seemed to be panting with his tongue rolling out, and an arm on one of his shoulders who seemed to be bent at an unnatural angle.

Derek was still completely bemused at what a completely hot person like him was doing, bleeding on his car seat like that. He swallowed. “What the hell is going on?”

The man flinched, and turned towards Derek at lightning speed, a gun raised and pointed at him. It was only years upon years as a deputy that stopped him from causing an accident in the middle of the road.

The man was glaring at Derek, sweating a little. “You are not Allison. Who are you working for?”

Derek rolled his eyes, feeling his temper rise. “I should be asking you that question since you jumped in my car and you are bleeding and told me to start fucking driving!”

The man didn’t put down the gun, but his lip twitched. “Fuck this, Deaton is going to murder me.” He muttered, wincing in pain when Derek took a curve and sent him against the window shield.

The deputy looked at him worried. “I’m a deputy. Do you want me to take you to a hospital? To the precinct? Where-”

“Take me to your house.” Murmured the younger man, looking ready to pass out. “Most safe…” he started, and then he promptly lost consciousness.

Fuck my life. Sweared Derek, hitting gas and wondering what the fuck did he just got himself into.

When Stiles woke up, the first thing he noticed was how comfortable he was. And after having slept in an abandoned warehouse for almost two months, waking up to slaps in the face or some sort of physical punishment, that was enough to send alarm bells ringing in his head.

He opened his eyes, scanning his surroundings almost reflexively and listening in for any kind of noise. He could hear the faint sound of a radio playing in the distance and smell bacon. That still didn’t tell him where he was.

Once he was sure no one else was in the room with him, he moved on the bed and sat down, back against the wall at all times. Someone- whoever took him- had taken care of his injuries, if the bandages on his chest and arms were anything to go by.

His clothes were folded neatly next to him, but his gun was missing. Stiles glowered darkly at the pile, before quickly remembering the secret gun his best friend Erica always forced him to use. “Just in case, Batman. You’ll never know when you gonna need one.” He knew there was a reason he loved her.

Thankfully his boots had been left untouched, and the boy sighed in relief as he retrieved the firearm from under the sole. He stood up, the gun steady in his hold and stopped for a second, noticing a picture from the wall.

There was a girl with long brown hair and piercing green eyes that immediately reminded him of what had happened the day before. Escaping Salvini’s men, closing the operation and the green-eyed angel that saved him. Uh.

Still, better safe than sorry. He slowly walked out of the room, gun ready and poised as he soundlessly stepped inside the kitchen. The man had his back to him and was nodding his head along with the music, scrambling eggs in a little saucepan. Stiles almost snorted at the 6-foot man humming along Mariah Carey’s voice.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked aloud, smirking at the way the man jumped and nearly threw his eggs at him.

He narrowed his eyes at Stiles, who didn’t want to shoot him. He had the prettiest green eyes and there was something familiar about his glare that didn’t make him look as murderous as he could have been. Still Stiles didn’t want to take any chances.

The man seemed to come to the same conclusion as Stiles, and stood taller, looking almost annoyed. “I’m the man who saved you from bleeding to death, so would you mind putting away the gun?”

Stiles smirked. “Yes, I would mind.”

The angel- ahem, the man, rolled his eyes. “My name is Derek, I’m a deputy for Beacon Hills police department and if I wanted to kill you I could have just dropped you off the car when you passed out.” He pointed out.

Stiles shrugged. “Yeah, but-” his vision went suddenly white, and he nearly fell on the floor, knees suddenly weak. But the man- Derek- was already at his side, holding his shoulders so that he didn’t fall.

He chuckled. “How about I put your gun on the table so you don’t end up accidentally shooting yourself?” he asked, but didn’t really wait for an answer before taking the arm.

Stiles muttered curses under his breath, but allowed Derek to help him sit up on the chair. Even though he glared at him during the entirety of the operation.

Derek huffed. “You know, you could be a little more grateful for my help and for the fact that I didn’t start screaming at the arms in your clothes.”

The brunette hummed thoughtfully, picking up a breadstick and sniffing it before eating it. “Well, I haven’t killed you for taking off my clothes without permission, so there’s that.”

At that the taller man blushed, making Stiles’ smirk widen. “Since we’re going to be stuck together for a while and you’re going to be sheltering me, let’s find out more about each other.”

The deputy arched an eyebrow. “You’re going to tell me where you got your scars from?”

Stiles shrugged. He was already in trouble, so why not charm the very hot guy with stories about how heroic he was? “Deaton is going to kill me no matter what, at this point. Anyway, I just escaped a 2 months captivity from Salvini’s gang- heard of him?”

Derek nodded. “My sister told me how the FBI captured him two months ago.” Stiles frowned, and Derek shrugged. “My sister works there. Her name is Cora Hale.”

Stiles’ eyes widened in surprise. “Dude! I know your sister, she’s like the best form of entertainment I have when we work together, since my sister is always sighing about her boyfriend, my best friend is awesome but too cool for you and Jackson is a dick.”

Now it was Derek’s turn to look surprised. “You work for the FBI?”

The smirk returned. “Kinda. But me, Cora and the other two were in the mission and we got most the gang, but Salvini’s right hand escaped- taking me hostage. So, I took them apart from the inside.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “Your turn.”

The other man scratched his stubble, thinking. “I only ever lived in Beacon Hills and New York. One of my best friend is a terrifying lawyer and the other is a nursery school teacher. I still don’t know your name.”

Stiles smiled, handing him his hand. “You can call me Stiles.”

Stiles nearly growled in frustration as he watched Derek’s internet connection fail for like the third time that evening alone. Honestly, he had been trying to connect with the association for almost the entire day, with no luck.

Part of him felt like Allison and Erica were just watching his call connect and then ignore it just because they were pissed at him for disappearing on them. As if he’d ever do that!

Okay, it had happened a couple of times, but that was in the past!

“I’m leaving now.” Said a voice from behind him. “Will you be all right on your own? There is some chicken- why are you staring at me like that?” groaned Derek, ears turning a little red.

Stiles didn’t comment, just gave him a very lazy once over from his polished shoes to the tight fit around his waist and around his chest. He smirked. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

Derek glared, although the effect was ruined by how much he was blushing. “I am a deputy. Of course I have a gun. Now I’m leaving.” He announced, pointedly ignoring the ‘See you later, honey!’ that Stiles called behind him.

The brunette watched him go and waved him away from the window, before setting out for the house.

Of course, Stiles knew who Derek Hale was. He knew all he needed to know about him. Derek Hale, one of three children. His sister, Laura Hale was a private investigator in NYC. His other sister, Cora, worked for the FBI.

And his uncle was a high paid prostitute.

Derek knew nothing of him. He didn’t know that he was Stiles Stilinski, as in the son of the Sheriff he was working for and also the guy that gave him one single red rose and three chocolates every single Valentine’s day throughout his entire high school era. And god help him, he was never going to find out.

“Good morning, Hale!” greeted deputy Braeden, with a smile at the officer. Derek smiled back. “Hey, Braeden!”

The entire station stopped for a second, every one of them looking at Derek like he had grown another head. And who could blame them? When had Derek ever smiled or sounded so chirpy in the morning?

“We’ve lost him,” declared Parrish, looking at him with a scared expression. “He’s a fake. He’s on drugs. He’s a fake on drugs.”

Derek didn’t even answer him, just snorted and flipped him the bird.

“He’s had sex.” Decided Jennifer Blake, one of Parrish’s best friends.  Derek almost winked.

“I certainly hope so.” He confided, feeling bold. The Stiles boy was way too hot for words. And if Derek managed to start dating him? He’d be the happiest motherfucker alive.

“Let’s leave poor Hale alone,” voiced the Sheriff, walking out of his office with a beatific smile, two girls trailing behind him. He pointed at them. “This is my daughter, Allison, and this is her friend Erica. They are here on holidays, so they’re going to join us at the Station’s Christmas party.” He looked at the rest of the deputies. “We’re all going to be there, right?”

Derek actually stopped to think about it. Maybe… maybe he could convince Stiles to come with him. The thought had him smiling goofily at nothing.

Honestly, he didn’t even know the guy. Yet, just the thought of being with Stiles made him fuzzy inside.

“Hey, I’m back!” called Derek, as he finally came back to the house. He found Stiles at the kitchen door, an apron with ‘Kiss the cook’ printed on it and scowling at him.

“You got your lines wrong! You were meant to say ‘Honey, I’m home!’, then I would have come with food and said, welcome back, darling.” He shook his head, sitting down at the table. “You suck, Derbear.”

The deputy glared at him, sitting down. “Shut up.” Only then he noticed how much food Stiles had actually cooked. “I didn’t know you could cook. Wait. Why did you cook?”

The brunette gave him a pearly smile. “Because I wanted to thank you?”

Derek looked around, noticing the way the room was a little bit too perfect. As in someone had moved it and had taken care of making it look the same. He arched an eyebrow at Stiles. “You were looking for your firearms, weren’t you?”

Stiles ate a spoonful of risotto without looking away from Derek. “…maybe.” Derek rolled his eyes, picking up his own plate and Stiles, pushed himself forward to catch his attention. “Hey. Wanna try what my mom made?”

The other man looked around the table, a spoonful of rice in his mouth. “What did she make?”

Stiles’ grin widened. “Me.” He started laughing hysterically as he saw Derek’s eyes going wide in realisation before he started chocking on his spoon, passing him a cup of water.

“God, you are so easy to wind up.” Teased him the younger boy, as Derek struggled to stop turning red.

“… anyway,” started Derek, making Stiles stifle a couple more chuckles. “The Sheriff’s daughter came to work today, which reminds me: we’re going to have a Christmas dance at the station, and if you wanted to come…”

The brunette looked at him for a second, face impenetrable as he thought about it. Then he smiled. “Sure, why not. I’d love to. Also, can’t wait to meet the Sheriff’s kids. I heard his son is so much cooler than his daughter.”

The sound of the window sliding open would have been terrifying if it hadn’t been exactly what Stiles was sitting for. He put down his book, and rolled his eyes at the two girls in front of him. “Well, hello, traitors.”

The blonde chick sent him a kiss. “Hey, babe. Ready to go?”

Stiles glared at her. “Fuck off, Erica. You went to dad without me?!” the last question was addressing both of them.

The brunette smirked. “Well, you could have come yourself. You disappeared on us.”

“No I did not!” complained Stiles. “They put a poison thing in their firearm, Ally! I was literally half passed out when I got in the car, and I didn’t realise it wasn’t your car until the guy started talking.”

Erica’s eyes gleamed. “The guy?”

Allison looked around the room with a smirk. “You surely made yourself comfortable. What’s his name?”

The boy would have gladly not said anything, but when Allison and Erica got like that, it was better telling them everything. “Derek Hale.”

The blonde bursted out laughing, like the bitch she was. “Damn, Stilinski! You really do have a type, don’t you?”

“The guy that works with dad?” said Allison in mock distaste. “I guess you like your roleplays, uh, Thing Two?”

“Shut the fuck up, Thing One.” He answered immediately.

“Well, are you ready?” asked Allison a few minutes later, when Stiles made no move to leave. The male looked up at her in confusion.

“Leave?” he asked.

Erica looked at him strangely. “Uhm, your dad? He said we gotta come to the Station party tomorrow, and to bring you alive or dead.” She smiled a little. “He misses you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Waved Stiles, although he seemed a little reluctant as he stood and retrieved the firearm from where Derek hid it.

He felt bad about leaving without telling Derek anything or leave him anything, so he put down one arrow on the table. A direction. An invitation.

Then, he picked up his clothes and left with Allison and Erica.

“You look like shit.” Commented Lydia, drinking her beer and looking at Derek out of the corner of her eye.

The man was scowling even more than usual, scaring away every single couple that came in his direction. Compared to a couple of days before, this was a complete 180 degrees change.

Derek didn’t even look at her. “Leave me alone, Lydia.” He sounded angry.

But more than angry, Derek was upset. Upset and annoyed at himself for hoping to conquer Stiles’ heart or something. It was obvious Stiles worked for the government or something. Honestly, it was not like Derek had even asked.

For all he knew, Stiles was married to a beautiful girl, was straight as a ruler and had three kids waiting for him in Australia.

“Hey, Derek! Have you met my kids already?”

Or he was right there and was in fact the son of his boss. What.

Derek stared at the image before him, almost too start stuck to speak. The Sheriff was standing in front in his Sheriff uniform and a drink in his hand. The girl from the day before was standing next to him, her long silky hair up in a chiffon. Her eyes were twinkling in amusement as she stared at him.

And holding her arm, with the most casual smirk you might imagine was Stiles. Stiles.

He was wearing a open buttoned white shirt, his hair not gelled up for once and dark skinny black jeans. He also looked like the exact copy of Allison, with his hair not covering his face for once.

“Derek?” said Stiles, moving forwards with a smile. “Nice to meet you. My dad only had nice words to say about you.” He confided, winking slyly at him.

Allison smirked. “Oh yeah. I heard all about you from more than once person.” She added, sticking out her tongue at Stiles when he glared at her. Then she turned to Lydia. “Eehy, Lyds, babe. How are you?”

“The roast is calling me.” Decided the Sheriff, when the silence started becoming a little awkward, slipping away before Stiles could stop him.

“Don’t eat too much!” called the brunette helplessly, watching his father disappearing. Only then he turned to look at Derek. Who was glaring missiles in his head. “Heeey, Derek.”

“REALLY? You are the sheriff’s son? You are the son of my BOSS? YOU literally live here? What the fuck Stiles?!” he exploded, looking at him angrily.  Stiles just kept looking at him, unfazed and the deputy finally sighed, pushing him a little away. “You left without saying anything.”

“I knew I’d see you.” Answered the brunette promptly, not missing a beat.

When Derek frowned, Stiles just smiled. “I promised you a date, and here I am.”

“A date!?”

Brown eyes met his, eyebrows arched. “You were asking me out, weren’t you?”

The deputy blushed, before moving towards the feast. “Fuck off. You’re still my boss’ son.”

Stiles caught up with him in a matter of seconds, sliding a hand in his. “Hey, honey.”

“Don’t call me that.” Answered Derek, hiding a smile.

Stiles winked, before pointing at the mistletoe on top of them. “Merry Christmas.”