Chapter Text
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The two slept for a few more hours in Derek’s giant, luxurious bed, their bodies tangled up in one another.
Derek was a habitual early riser due to his busy working schedule, and he eventually dragged himself out of bed (after placing a kiss to Stiles’ temple) and headed out into the apartment.
Derek placed a call to one of his favorite breakfast places in the neighborhood and ordered breakfast to be delivered for the two of them. He wasn’t sure what Stiles usually ate for breakfast, so he just settled on the largest spread with the most variety. Whatever Stiles didn’t eat, Derek could finish later. A werewolf’s metabolism didn’t allow leftovers to hang around for long.
Derek knew he had at least half an hour to kill before breakfast arrived, so he decided to clean up the living room from the previous night’s activities.
When Harry Met Sally was on TV, and Derek watched it at a low volume, reciting the lines along with the characters, as he shuffled the furniture back into place, washed dishes and folded the blankets so he could have them laundered later. Derek tried his best to stay as quiet as he could, trying his best not to wake Stiles with the noise.
(Even though by now Derek was well aware how heavy of a sleeper Stiles actually was, he still wanted to make sure Stiles was able to rest as much as he could.)
Derek had just finished checking his work email when he got a call from the lobby that someone from the restaurant was on their way up to his floor.
Derek figured they should probably eat at the table this time. He almost felt bad that Stiles hadn’t had a full meal since he’d been in the penthouse, and Derek knew if he tried to serve Stiles breakfast in bed, the morning would take a whole other direction and poor Stiles still wouldn’t end up with eating actual food.
Derek met the delivery girl at the, tipping her generously, and shut the front door behind him with his foot as he headed into the dining room. He arranged everything on the dining room table in a luxurious spread, trying to make it look welcoming and inviting for his guest, hoping he’d be pleased with how well Derek was able to provide for him.
For a second, he wondered if maybe this was a bit too much of an ostentatious display that would turn Stiles’ off. Or perhaps Stiles’ would have preferred to go out for breakfast instead. What if Stiles didn’t even want to stay for breakfast? What if he’d just rather go back home?
Before Derek could really let the anxious thoughts take over, he the sound of his bedroom door opening and the faint rhythmic beat of Stiles’ heart. Derek set the last container down on the table, taking a breath to steel himself, and turned around to face the omega.
Stiles padded barefoot down the hallway completely shirtless, Derek’s sweat pants riding dangerously low on his hips, into the main living area of the penthouse.
He had sleep in his eyes, his hair was sticking up in every which direction, and his mouth was open in a giant yawn. He looked adorably disheveled and much less glamorous than he did on a shift for Dolce, but Derek knew he could spend the rest of his life waking up to this version of Stiles.
The sleepy omega walked into the living room, scratching his stomach as he looked around. When his eyes landed on Derek at the entrance to the dining room, his eyes lit up and a gorgeous smile bloomed on his face.
As he changed his course and headed toward the living room, Derek noticed there was a slight hitch in his step, no doubt a result of how thoroughly he’d been fucked in the past 12 hours. Stiles walked directly over to Derek and wrapped his arms around his waist in an intimate embrace, nuzzling his face into Derek’s neck. Derek didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around the sleepy omega, kissing his forehead and mumbling, “Good morning.”
“Kawa,” Stiles croaked groggily, his neck pressed against the warm skin of Derek’s neck. “I smell coffee.”
“That’s because there is coffee.” Derek said, chuckling softly.
Derek held Stiles for several moments, rubbing his back while Stiles woke up a little more. Eventually, Stiles pulled back and looked up at Derek with a lazy grin, “Good morning.”
There were a few flecks of dried milk around Stiles’ left nipple and a faint trail of dried milk where he had leaked earlier in his sleep. There was a small fresh droplet of milk pearling at the tip of his right nipple and Derek brought his hand to Stiles’ breast, swiping at small pearl of milk with his thumb and sucking the digit into his mouth.
Stiles rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide his shy smile.
Derek grinned, pulling his thumb out of his mouth. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” Stiles stood up on the balls of his feet, kissing Derek softly on the lips, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck.
“C’mere,” Derek pulled away from Stiles, and Stiles took Derek’s hand in his, entwining their fingers so Derek couldn’t go too far.
“Breakfast is served.” Derek gestured to the table and the elaborate spread of breakfast foods, and looked at Stiles over his shoulder.
“Impressive,” Stiles grinned, heading for a chair.
“Did you want to get dressed first?” Not that Derek would have cared if Stiles changed, but he thought he should at least throw it out there as an option.
“What’s wrong, don’t like the view?” Stiles winked playfully.
“I just want you to be comfortable, that’s all,” Derek blushed, ducking his head a little bit.
He pulled out Stiles’ seat, pressing a kiss to the side of Stiles’ neck as he pushed the chair back into the table after he’d sat. Derek grabbed some juice for the table and poured the two of them a steaming hot cup of coffee, before joining Stiles at the table.
*
As they ate the large breakfast, Stiles chatted excitedly, gesticulating animatedly, his eyes with excitement the entire time he rambled on.
All of his nerves from yesterday seemed to have disappeared and Derek knew that this was the real Stiles. Not the dolled up omega from the club who laid there silently while alphas nursed from his chest. And after hearing Stiles talk so much for the past 12 hours, Derek was impressed that Stiles was able to remain silent for such a long stretch of time while he was working.
Stiles went on and on, talking about a musical he wanted to see on Broadway, the most recent movies he and Scott had seen together, funny stories about culture shock after he first arrived in New York from Wrocław. He even shared some stories about people from work (carefully not to give out their names), and giving Derek a peak behind the curtain that was Dolce. Stiles had a lot of interesting things to say, and Derek sat back and listened to all of it, enjoying every second of it.
There was something so natural about the way they interacted together. Everything was just so effortless, and Derek knew that the more time he spent around Stiles, the harder he was going to end up falling for him.
In the short time that he had known Stiles, Derek had opened so much of himself, and shared so much of who he was. It had been a long time since Derek had been in a relationship, and nearly as long since he had wanted to be in one. But being wrapped up in the penthouse with Stiles, away from all the distractions of Derek’s real life, it was easy to feel as though they were the only two in the world.
Derek knew that things could really end only one of two ways: Either Derek would give him the claiming bite, and they’d end up together. Or, they would go their own separate ways, and Derek would be left brokenhearted.
*
They’d finished breakfast, and had ended up back on Derek’s couch again, fooling around languidly. Derek knotted Stiles one more time, filling him up tightly and making the omega smell like him from the inside out.
While they lie tied together, Derek placed lazy, fucked out kisses on Stiles’ collar bone. Derek nursed from Stiles one last time, giving the omega a slow and sensual hand job and bringing him off a second time. Stiles combed his fingers through Derek’s hair, murmuring in Polish the entire time.
Derek could hear Stiles’ phone all the way in his bedroom even though it was on vibrate. It had gone off once or twice while they were eating, but it had been going off more frequently as the morning wore on. Every time Derek heard it, a little piece of him deflated, realizing that there was an entire world outside of the penthouse, and Stiles wasn’t really his.
Eventually, Derek’s knot had gone down enough so that he could separate himself from Stiles. With a sigh, he slipped out of Stiles’ body, feeling the slow ooze of slick and come start to drip out of Stiles’ loose hole.
“Your phone has been going off for a while,” Derek’s eyes lingered on Stiles’ backside, watching his come drip out of Stiles. “I think someone is trying to get ahold of you.”
Stiles sighed heavily, and ran a hand through his hair, nodding. “It is probably Scott. I told him I would be back this morning.”
Stiles got up of the couch, sliding on Derek’s sweat pants, and walking back down the hallway to the bedroom. Derek silently watched him walk away, sighing heavily as Stiles shut the door behind him.
He’s not really yours, he reminded himself. Agreeing that they wanted to see more of each other in the future did not mean that Stiles wanted to be mated to Derek.
Derek stayed on the couch, his softening cock covered in Stiles slick, mixing with his own scent, and he tried to ignore the pull in his stomach at the idea that Stiles would be leaving soon. He loosely jacked his softening knot, rubbing as much of Stiles’ slick into his skin as he could hoping the scent would stay.
He could hear the faint sounds of Stiles’ voice through the walls as he talked on the phone. Derek stayed on the couch, doing his best to block out the sound, giving Stiles some privacy. Eventually, Stiles voice stopped, and he heard Stiles’ footsteps as he headed toward the bathroom, and the sound of the shower turning on.
Derek finally hoisted himself up from the couch and went into his room to change into something less soiled.
His eyes fell on the bed and his wolf purred in delight as he eyed the bedsheets that were rumpled and still smelled like the two of them. He knew he should probably change them today, but he didn’t have to heart to do it just yet.
*
He was in the kitchen having a second cup of coffee when Stiles came out from his room, dressed and ready for the day.
Ready to leave.
His hair was still a little damp, a few water droplets falling onto his shoulders onto his t-shirt, and he smelled clean. Much too clean; Derek could hardly even smell himself on Stiles anymore.
Stiles stood there anxiously, shifting from one foot to the other uneasily, rolling his phone back and forth between his hands.
“I should probably leave,” he said softly, biting his lip. Over his shoulder was his backpack with the things that be brought over with him, all packed up and ready to go.
Derek nodded. “I don’t want to keep you from anything.”
They stood there silently, looking at one another from across the room. The room felt a little uncomfortable, both too small and too big at the same time, and it was quiet except for the sounds of traffic from outside.
Stiles opened his mouth to say something, and Derek hoped he’d ask Derek to take him home. He knew Stiles had boundaries, and while he understood them, he wished he was allowed just a little bit closer to this incredible little omega.
“I can call a cab or get an Uber,” Stiles said, holding up his phone.
“You don’t have to,” Derek couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. “I can have my driver take you back,” he offered, smiling softly.
Stiles paused, biting his lip uncertainly, and before he had a chance to respond, Derek spoke again. “He can take you to Dolce if you don’t want him to know where you live. Or he can drop you off at a busy public place near your house, if that would make you feel more comfortable.”
Some of the tension left Stiles’ shoulders and he chuckled, a soft grin taking over his face. “Alright then. The second option, please.”
Derek smiled encouragingly, and pulled out his phone to call Greenberg. He turned to face the counter, leaving his back toward Stiles to give himself a second to school his expression into something more relaxed.
While he talked, Derek could feel Stiles’ anxiousness in the room like it was a separate entity. When he ended the call, he arranged his face back into something friendly and neutral and turned back toward Stiles.
“It is not that I do not trust you,” he blurted as soon as Derek turned. He set his backpack on the floor, stepping forward a little bit and looking at Derek earnestly. It took Derek a second to figure out what Stiles was talking about, but he finally realized that Stiles was referencing his reluctance to let Greenberg know where he lived.
“I don’t think that.” Derek said. He slid his phone into the pocket of his track pants and walked toward Stiles. “You’re smart to be so careful with yourself.”
Stiles nodded, looking down at his hands.
“My dad works in law enforcement,” he said quietly. “He sees a lot of tough cases. I hear stories sometimes,” He chewed his lip softly, looking back up toward Derek. “He likes me to be safe.”
It was no secret that being an omega was significantly more dangerous than being an alpha, or even a beta. From cat-calling to street harassment to more insidious crimes, Derek couldn’t imagine the different ways omegas had to alter their daily lives just to make sure they made it through the day safe.
“He sounds like a good man,” Derek smiled softly.
Stiles nodded. “He his.”
“I know you don’t really know me very well, but I want you to know that you’re safe with me.” Derek said.
Stiles looked at him, tilting his head to the side.
“And you’re safe from me,” He added. He walked closer to Stiles, stopping just a foot or two from him. “I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you. And if you ever change your mind and want to leave, you can. I won’t force you to stay here just because you agreed to it beforehand.”
Stiles rolled his eyes dramatically, but he smiled nonetheless.
“Thank you, Seriouswolf,” He said in a teasing tone.
“I mean it,” Derek chuckled at the nickname, “You are. I mean it.”
“I know,” Stiles said. He stepped toward Derek, closing the gap between their bodies. Stiles reached down and entangled Derek’s fingers with his.
“How long until your employee arrives?” He peered up at Derek from beneath his lashes, a small, mischievous smirk playing out on his lips.
Derek’s eyes fell to Stiles’ lips and he let out a soft rumbling growl, “About 25 minutes or so.”
“Well then,” Stiles squeezed Derek’s hands, “I want your mouth again.”
Derek knew Stiles meant he just wanted to make out, but his mind flashed to earlier activities and to just how incredible Stiles tasted.
Stiles walked backward, pulling Derek with him, and backing them toward the couch. Derek allowed himself to be pulled down on top of the omega.
*
They made out lazily on the couch until Greenberg called Derek’s phone to let him know he was outside.
“I’ll walk you down.” Derek said. He rose from the couch, holding his hand out to Stiles to help him up.
Stiles hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder, giving the room a quick once over to make sure he had everything he came with, and together they rode the elevator down to the lobby of Derek’s building.
While the elevator descended, Derek eyed the omega shamelessly, admiring his handiwork. Stiles’ neck was marked with love bites and he knew that even with the balm that he had applied to Stiles’ hole, he would still be a little tender. Derek felt a rush of pride that the omega was wearing his marks, no matter how temporary they were.
Stiles caught him looking and blushed, shaking his head. “You are ridiculous,” He chuckled warmly.
Derek just leaned forward and kissed Stiles again.
Derek greeted the doorman as he held the door open for the two of them, and Stiles waved and gave him a small, “Thanks, man.”
Greenberg was stood at the curb and he opened the car door when he saw the two of them exit the building.
A few paces away from the car, Derek stopped walking to turn to Stiles. Stiles looked up at Derek, adjusting the strap of his backpack, and looking up at Derek, confusion written on his face.
“You know, Stiles...” Derek paused, working up the courage to ask Stiles what he wanted to ask.
God, why was he so nervous around Stiles?
He had spent the past 18 hours doing filthy, intimate things to him, but he couldn’t even work up the nerve to ask a question? He ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly.
“Yes?” Stiles asked, his eyebrows rising expectantly when Derek didn’t continue.
He was standing outside of Derek’s apartment building, after spending a night of passionate sex with Derek, currently wearing Derek’s marks all over his body, but Derek still found that he was unsure about his place in the grand scheme of Stiles’ life.
Derek swallowed the lump in his throat, and continued on.
“That business deal that I was at Dolce for….”
Stiles nodded. “Yes, I remember.”
Stiles reached forward and took Derek’s hand into his, and that gave Derek the courage he needed to keep talking.
“Well, we’re going to have a launch party in a few weeks to announce the merger. It’s going to be in San Francisco, so I’ll be flying out there. Would you like to be my date for the party and spend the weekend with me?”
Stiles let out a breath, clearly surprised by the question. His face lit up, and he grinned brightly. “Wow! I—”
Then, as quickly as it appeared, his expression faded, and he looked down a little self-consciously. “I do not know. I will have to see how much plane tickets will be.”
Derek shook his head. He let go of Stiles’ hand and cradled his face, stepping toward him.
“No, babe, you won’t.” Derek stroked the plushness of Stiles’ lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “You’d be my guest. Everything would be covered, you don’t have to worry about a thing.”
Stiles’ grin lit up his face, his whisky colored eyes glittering. He bit down softly on Derek’s thumb. “For how many days?”
“Probably the whole weekend. The party is on a Friday, but we can fly out Thursday evening and we would come back on Sunday. Maybe do a bit of sightseeing on Saturday?”
“That sounds great,” Stiles grinned brightly, bouncing on the balls of his feet a little. “I would love to accompany you.” Stiles leaned in to capture Derek’s mouth in a kiss. He pulled back just enough to speak against Derek’s lips. “Let me talk to my employer, and I will call you to let you know.”
Derek nodded. “Call me anytime.”
Stiles pulled back to walk toward the car, but Derek pulled him close once more. He kissed his neck, dragging his lips up to Stiles ear to whisper one last thing.
“Even if you can’t get the time off,” Derek said, “Call me. I’d like to see you again. I-If you want.”
“Oh, I definitely want.” Stiles’ grin was blinding. “Goodbye, Derek.” He backed toward the car, winking at Derek as he moved away.
Derek felt he ball of anxiety in his stomach dissolve, because this goodbye wouldn’t be forever. And if everything worked out, the next time he could be with Stiles would be a whole weekend.
Stiles climbed into the back of the car and Greenberg shut the back door before walking around to the driver’s side. Derek watched as the car pulled out onto the busy street, making its way down the avenue. Stiles turned around in the back seat, waving to Derek one last time before the car rounded the corner.
Derek had never looked forward to a work party so much in his entire life.
*
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-fin-