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Derek feels like he’s been set adrift when his assistant of five years announces that she’s going on maternity leave. How will he remember where he needs to be when his schedule is constantly in flux? Who will discreetly pull him out of meetings when Cora calls in tears over her latest breakup? How will he remember to buy birthday presents for Laura’s kids if he doesn't have someone circling dates on his calendar?
Derek hasn’t always been this helpless. He was a workhorse before Julia came along. He was always first to arrive in the morning and the last to leave at night. He’d felt like he’d had something to prove to his fellow first year associates. He was just as sharp as them, and had earned his right to practice law, even if his last name was the same one on the letterhead. When Derek made junior partner he was entitled to his own legal assistant, but he didn’t like the idea. He thought assistants made coffee and hung up your hat and jacket. He doesn’t like coffee and he never wears a hat, and he’s capable of hanging up his own jacket.
Eventually, Derek caved. Julia is incredible--organized, efficient, professional, and she cut Derek’s stress down by half. She’s irreplaceable, and yet she’s forcing him to look at applicants and choose someone by the end of the day. She says she can’t fit her swollen feet into her heels anymore.
So Derek has an array of folders set out with cover letters and résumés--each letter with more ass kissing than the next, and each résumé more padded than Kate’s cell at the facility where she’ll hopefully be locked up until her propensity for lighting things on fire is under control. Derek grimaces. He really needs to stop letting thoughts of her seep into his mind at work. He’s been distracted all week and he knows it’s because Julia is leaving. He’s happy for her, he truly is, because she and Kali are starting their family and he, more than anyone, knows how important family is.
Derek shakes off the dark thoughts and studies the files. He liked each of the candidates enough in person, but he can’t tell who will be a better fit until they are actually working with him. It’s all about who can handle his taciturn nature without crying. Yes, crying. Before Julia, there were other assistants. He made one guy cry because of his naturally grumpy looking face (it’s the eyebrows), and he made another woman quit without notice because Derek snapped at her after meeting with his most loathed client. He doesn’t mean to be a terrible boss, he just wants things his way and up to his impossibly high standards. Derek never asks Julia to do something he isn’t willing to do himself.
“Derek. This one. This is your new assistant.” Julia hands him a file when she walks in unannounced.
Derek skims it over again. “Stiles Stilinski. That was the kid with the glasses, right?”
She snorts. “Yes, well that kid is twenty-eight. You’re only five years older than him. Try not to be so condescending,” Julia ribs him gently.
“He seemed inexperienced.” Derek scratches his stubble with the edge of the folder. “When I asked him if he had experience with the law, he asked if I’d seen The Good Wife.”
“I can see what you mean.” Julia laughs. “In his defense, he was on The Good Wife.”
Derek rolls his eyes. He doesn’t watch a lot of TV, so the joke is lost on him.
“What? It’s a good show. If I was on it, I’d tell everyone too.” Julia smiles but Derek remains unimpressed. “But in all seriousness, yes, he’s an actor, but he’s hungry. He’ll probably be grateful to have a steady paycheck for once, and he’ll fake it ‘til he makes it. That’s really important in a job like this.”
Derek tilts his head and decides to trust Julia. She has good judgment and hasn’t steered him wrong in the five years they’ve worked together.
“Okay. Set it up.”
“Alright. If he’s free, I’ll have him start on Tuesday. I’ll give him a crash course in Derek Hale 101 and then on the following Monday, the kid’s on his own.”
Derek shrugs and smiles. “Are you sure I can’t just hire you a nanny to raise the baby?”
“You’re going to do just fine without me.” She squeezes his shoulder and heads back to her desk.
***
It’s 10:30 in the morning and Derek’s eyes are already feeling strained. He’s been poring over a brief for the past two hours and he still isn’t happy with it. He stretches when Stiles appears in the doorway.
“Derek, you have a lunch meeting at noon, so I’m having the car pulled around at 11:30. You might want to take a breather, recharge beforehand.”
Derek gets up out of his seat and shakes out his stiff legs. “I’m going to head over to the café. Can I get you anything?”
Stiles smiles. “I thought Julia was kidding when she said you didn’t like your assistant to get you coffee, that you preferred it the other way around.”
“I drink tea. But yeah, I’m buying,” Derek says as he heads toward the elevator.
Stiles clicks a button on his office phone and takes off his headset. He joins Derek at the elevator and brings his iPad mini. “I thought maybe after a week of being polite you’d stop buying, too.” Stiles chuckles.
During the long ride down from the high rise, Stiles taps away at his tablet. “I’m updating your calendar for tomorrow. You’re meeting with Deucalion at two, and according to Julia’s notes you like to wear that one charcoal suit for those meetings.”
Derek is about to protest. He wore that suit to court the previous week.
“I know, it’s at the cleaners. So...you’ll hit the gym first thing in the morning, and I’ll pick up your suit personally. I’ll drop it off at the club, unless you’re going to go home to change. Is that okay?” Stiles says while typing away on the tablet.
Derek can feel the buzz in his pocket as he gets calendar and appointment notifications.
“But I have tennis with Laura on Wednesday mornings. We have a standing arrangement.”
Stiles gives him a look that says ‘duh.’ “I already rescheduled for Thursday. She’s actually happy about it. She has a thing at Daphne’s school tomorrow and she was worried about cutting it close on time. So, normal workout with Ennis tomorrow. You can get all that aggression out before you start the day. Can’t have you flaring your nostrils at Deucalion.”
“I hate that guy,” Derek spits.
Stiles makes a face that tells Derek he already knows that too.
“Did Julia keep notes on everything? ‘Derek likes blue suits when he meets with the partners. Derek needs to pound the shit out of something before meeting with Deucalion.’”
Stiles snorts. “Something like that.”
Derek grumbles as they exit the elevator. They walk to Derek’s preferred café on West 44th and he places their orders.
“Medium chai with steamed milk and two sugars, and a large caramel latte extra caramel. Two blueberry muffins.” Derek hands over a twenty and leaves the change for tip.
Derek asked Stiles for his drink preference on his first day, and discovered he has an incurable sweet tooth. Unless he asks for something different, Derek orders him the same thing whenever he takes a break. Derek doesn’t go every day, sometimes he’ll swing by after court and bring drinks back to the office, and sometimes he’ll take an actual coffee break and invite Stiles along.
Stiles waits by the pickup area and scrolls through emails on his iPad. He bites on his lower lip gently and then looks up at Derek. “You need to RSVP for the Lincoln Center Gala. Thoughts?”
“I hate those things. Can’t I just write a check?” Derek complains. He doesn’t like going to fancy fundraisers. He’d gone to countless in his lifetime. Society events are unavoidable as the son of Talia and Aaron Hale.
Stiles smiles. “I’m sure they’d appreciate the check, but you do add a certain cachet to events. How about you buy a table like you always do, show up and put in an appearance, and then skip out before they start in on dinner service.”
“I’m sick of those boring beef or chicken dinners. You’d think for ten thousand a table they could spring for something decent.” Derek starts to run his hand through his hair until Stiles catches his hand.
“Don’t do that. You’re going to mess it up.”
Derek practically growls. “Did Julia leave you a folder about my mannerisms too?”
“Yes, and she said it took two years to perfect your hairstyle, and she doesn’t want her hard work ruined,” Stiles says while gently slapping Derek’s hand away.
“Eat your muffin,” Derek commands, but it lacks any sort of heat because he says it with a toothy grin.
Stiles makes grabby hands and then takes a big bite of his muffin. Their drink orders come up and they take them to-go. They head back toward the office and keep up an easy conversation. Stiles fires off work-related questions and Derek continues whining about the level of detail Julia must have left in her notes.
“Can I read them?”
“Nope. Julia made me promise.”
“But they’re about me.”
“Not really. Not all of the notes are about you. There’s a whole section on what to do when the copier jams.”
“Come on. I’m your boss.”
“Yeah, Julia said to ignore you when you say that. You are the boss, that’s why they pay you the big bucks, but you’re helpless without me. Admit it. Just a few weeks with me and already you’re hopelessly codependent.”
Derek laughs. Stiles is a good assistant. Maybe even better than Julia because she had to go through the trouble of learning Derek’s quirks. Stiles just has to look at the book filled with all of her notes. But there’s also something unique about Stiles. Derek can tell he’s interpreting Julia’s notes rather than following them to the letter. He’s good at reading situations and people, which is nice because Derek thought he’d drown in work without Julia. They were a team, and it’s good to know that Stiles is on his side. They don’t communicate in shorthand yet, but they’ll get there.
***
“You look incredible.” She brushes off imaginary lint from his shoulders and lapels. “It’s unfair I’m stuck in this getup.” Cora sighs and looks down at her intricate white lace and mesh dress.
Derek is always impressed by the way Cora can move between social scenes. She’s too granola to be a socialite, and she’s too sophisticated to be a hippy. Her dress looks like it was made for her, the way it sort of floats on her body. “You look like a spring fairy,” Derek says.
“I thought it was appropriate for tonight, despite what Laura says about the shorter length being inappropriate for a gala. She’s just jealous she couldn’t come this year.”
“You’re beautiful, as always.”
“Beautiful and really fucking uncomfortable. Whoever invented support boning should be shot.” Cora rubs at her side and makes a face.
“TMI.”
“I’ll TMI you. Shut up,” Cora says and pinches Derek’s butt.
Derek manfully squeals and swats her hand away.
“Am I going to have to separate you two?” Stiles calls out to them from across the way. He’s standing near the coat check and looks dashing in his tuxedo.
“Stiles!” Cora says and runs over to kiss him on the cheek. She’s known him for two months at this point and already they’ve grown close. Sometimes Cora doesn’t even talk to Derek when she calls in tears. Derek has heard Stiles cooing to her on the phone, offering her sympathy and support.
Cora leans back and examines Stiles. “You clean up nice. Doesn’t he, Derek?”
Derek nods approvingly. “I see you took my advice and went to my tailor.”
“Men's Wearhouse ain't got nothing on Tito.”
“Don’t let Tito hear you put his name in the same sentence as Men’s Wearhouse.”
Stiles laughs. “Just kidding. Tito is amazing. I didn’t know pants could fit this well.” Stiles hands Cora his phone. “I’m going to need you to take a full length pic of me so I can send it to Lydia. She’ll never believe I could look this good.”
“The ex?” Cora asks.
Derek tunes out. He and Stiles have a great working relationship, but they haven’t let it get personal. He knows that Stiles was a struggling actor before he decided to give it up and get a real job. He knows he’s from northern California, and his best friend is named Scott. Derek isn’t sure if Stiles knows his story. He isn’t sure if Julia would reveal something so private even to the assistant replacing her.
Stiles and Cora walk arm in arm into the venue. Derek hands his sister’s coat over to the woman at the coat check and pockets the ticket stub. He trails after his sister and his assistant to their table. He makes eye contact with the men and women who wave and smile. Some of them are his parents’ friends, some are business associates, but he’s never been comfortable in these situations even though he’s a born and bred Upper East Sider. Derek grits his teeth. He hates the posturing, simpering, and the fake smiles he has to flash for appearance’s sake. Derek wanted to have a career, not live off a trust fund, but instead he ended up a lawyer at his uncle’s firm raking in millions more and helping the rich and powerful stay out of trouble. It’s glamorous maybe, but totally soulless, and if Derek could go back in time, he’d make different decisions. Derek moves toward the only empty seat at the table between Cora and Stiles, and Derek wonders if he should offer to trade so they can sit together.
Before he can decide, Stiles introduces him. “Guys! This is my very generous boss, Derek Hale, who let me invite you slobs to this fancy schmancy event.”
Derek smiles congenially. “Hi.” He walks over to the guy he presumes to be Scott and extends his hand.
“I’m Scott. Thanks, man! Stiles talks about you all the time. He sounds super stoked about the job, and it’s awesome that you let us come to this event.” Scott shakes his hand enthusiastically and gives him a hug. Derek would normally be taken aback, but he can tell that Scott is just an affectionate guy. Scott turns toward Stiles and says loud enough for the group to hear, “The last time Stiles invited us to the city it was during his experimental theater phase.”
“It was off-Broadway theater,” Stiles interjects.
“Way, way, off-Broadway,” a woman in a blue gown calls out. She stands and shakes Derek’s hand. “I’m Kira. Thank you for giving us a reason to fly in for something a little more elegant than a two hour show where people say ‘fork’ repeatedly.”
“Allison,” says the women seated between Scott and Kira. She doesn’t stand but she twists to shake Derek’s hand.
Derek gives her a second glance, but can’t place her as someone he knows.
The taller man seated next to Kira stands up last. “Isaac.” He shakes Derek’s hand and gives him a friendly pat on the back. “Nice to see Stiles steadily employed. We were tired of lending him money,” he says to the group.
“You guys are the worst friends. I hate you.”
“You love us. And you miss us,” Allison says with a dreamy smile.
“I’m just glad you could help us fill out the table. My former assistant loved this event and it was like date night for her and friends,” Derek explains as he turns to Stiles. “I can let you sit next to Cora.”
“Derek!” Stiles shakes his head and pulls out Derek’s chair. “Sit.”
Cora rolls her eyes at him and asks Derek what he wants to drink. He asks for a bourbon and hands her cash for tip. Isaac and Kira offer to go along. Stiles, Scott, and Allison make polite conversation. Derek lets himself smile softly and he takes a chance to look look around the room. He notes that Peter has his table filled with his current boyfriend and some business associates. Derek’s mother and father usually have their own table, but they’ve moved out to the Hamptons house until the decorators are done with the new penthouse. Derek sighs and sends a grateful prayer to whatever supreme being was looking out for all of them. Kate set their penthouse on fire just a few months back, and it’s a miracle no one was killed or severely injured.
“Where’d you go just now?” Stiles asks, gently nudging Derek’s shoulder.
Derek looks up and focuses in on Stiles’ eyes. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Everything okay?”
Derek misses his former assistant. She would have known his gloomy look was Kate related.
“It’s nothing,” Derek insists.
Stiles leans in and whispers,“Did someone say something weird to you? Oh God, did Scott ask you if you were really born with a silver spoon in your mouth? I told him it was an expression--”
“Stiles--”
Stiles’ theatrical whisper gets louder. “It wasn’t Isaac, was it? I told him I’d pay him back. But he couldn’t resist, could he? He asked you for the money.” Stiles wrings his hands and looks a little peaked.
“Stiles, if you let me--” Derek tries to interrupt Stiles’ steady babble.
“You’re not going to fire me, are you? I mean, it would serve Isaac right if you did. I’ll never pay him back if I get fired.”
Derek pulls Stiles by the shoulders to face him. “I’m not firing you. None of your friends have said anything untoward. They seem like nice people.”
“You’re not firing me,” Stiles says and takes a ragged breath.
“Definitely not. You’re doing great. Breathe.” Derek takes a deep breath. “Breathe, Stiles.”
Stiles inhales and exhales deeply. He bobs his head a few times. “You’re not firing me. Cool. Okay. Forget I said anything.” Stiles runs a hand through his hair.
Derek smiles and pats him on the back.
“I can’t believe I almost had a panic attack over nothing.”
Cora and the others return from the bar and everyone raises their glasses to toast. Derek smiles and grabs onto his sister’s hand, she squeezes back affectionately. She gets it, she knows it’s hard for Derek to go out to society events normally, and it’s even harder now knowing with certainty that people are talking about his unfortunate ex-wife who almost killed him and his family and is locked up for fifteen to life.
Derek turns on the charm as best he can and engages Stiles’ friends in conversation. He even decides to stick around through the main course. Afterward, during the entertainment portion of the night, Stiles looks wistfully at the performers on stage. They’re doing a scene from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and it must be good if Derek’s to go by the look of rapture on Stiles’ face. After the actors come out to mingle with the guests, everyone gets up from the table. Somehow Derek finds himself by a window looking out over the city. Allison approaches him and he gets that feeling he had from before. There’s something striking and familiar about her.
“Derek,” she says with a nervous smile. “I was wondering if I could talk to you for a second?”
Derek nods, not able to do much more.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d put it together, but I thought I should say something…”
Derek feels like an anvil is about to fall on his head.
“My name is Allison Argent. I’m Kate’s niece.” She frowns and looks down.
Derek feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room.
“We were estranged. I didn’t even know she was married or that she lived in New York City. I had no idea that Stiles was working for you. I didn’t even know you existed.”
“How?” Derek manages after a beat.
“When I called to tell my parents about our trip, and how Stiles was working for Hale & Whittemore, it just came out. My mom wanted to warn me, and my dad wanted me not to come on the trip at all. I’m so sorry if this is horribly awkward.” Allison sighs heavily.
Derek feels for her. He knows what it’s like to carry the weight of embarrassment from being associated with Kate. “It’s not your fault. It’s awkward, but it’ll pass.”
“I haven’t said anything to Stiles. I don’t even know if Stiles knows about Kate.”
“I don’t think he does. It was in the papers right when it happened. She plead guilty, so there wasn’t a trial. The coverage fizzled out quickly. This was all before he came to work for me.”
“Stiles doesn’t read the newspaper. The Arts section, yes, and the trade papers. But I think it’s safe to say that he doesn’t know about Kate, and I’m not going to say anything. Maybe you should, though?”
Derek sighs.
“Stiles is great friend. He wouldn’t judge you.”
“Have you ever talked about your family with him?” Derek asks pointedly.
Allison looks away and takes a few seconds to reply. “I don’t talk about my family with anyone. I’m not sure how I’d even begin. My parents have tried to shield me from the worst of it.”
“Your grandfather?”
Allison goes tense. “I don’t know him, but I know the way he raised my dad and aunt...My aunt, she never physically hurt me. I know she loved me...but sometimes I’d see this shift in her. If I was doing something cute when I was little, I was her favorite thing in the world. But when I stopped being her amusement…”
“She could be cruel,” Derek supplies.
Allison gives him a watery smile.
Derek nods. “Thanks, Allison.” He extends his arm. “We should head back to the group.”
“Let’s.” She flashes her dimples.
In an instant Derek can see the family resemblance. Allison is stunning in her light green ball gown with her hair swept to the side, but there’s something in her eyes that reminds him of Kate. There’s a sadness there that’s easy to miss.
***
Julia had joked that their relationship was much like a sexless marriage. Derek hated that metaphor, but secretly he wondered if his closeness with his assistant was what caused his own marriage to fail. Kate certainly had thoughts about that. She had railed against him countless times, complained that he never let her in, that he was compromised emotionally. She claimed that he only had so much love to give and he had nothing to give her after spending his whole day with Julia.
Derek chokes down his nightcap and hates that his thoughts always return to her. Kate’s gone, and Julia left him to focus on being a new mom. Derek feels like somehow this proves Kate was wrong once and for all. If there had been anything between him and Julia, it would have been harder to let her go. Derek does know how to let people in, he does know how to love them, he just didn’t know how to love Kate because she couldn’t love herself. Kate liked fire; she wanted to burn herself down and take the world with her.
***
Derek hates the ugliness of his job. Winning the case for their client doesn’t feel like a victory at all. He feels cheap and dirty, like nothing will ever make him clean again. On Friday night after the verdict is in, he orders too much Chinese food and puts on a Leonard Cohen record while he waits for the delivery guy. It's the first night he's been home earlier than nine in at least a month, and the last thing he expects is Stiles to knock on the door with his box of food.
“What are you doing here?” Derek says as he opens the door wider to let Stiles inside.
“I guess the restaurant assumed delivery was to the office. You’re just lucky I was there to sign for it.”
Derek checks his watch. “What are you doing at the office so late? We were out of court hours ago.”
Stiles bustles in and sets the food down on the counter. He takes off his messenger bag and opens it up. “You’re back in court on Tuesday for the Tate case. You’re meeting with the client on Monday at eleven. Figured you’d probably want these for the weekend to review.” Stiles takes out a stack of files.
Derek closes his eyes and puts his head in his hands. “I totally forgot. Shit. You stayed late to make sure I don’t look like an idiot on Monday.”
“I stayed late because it’s my job to make you look good. And I’m Stiles. I’m awesome.” He laughs.
“You have to let me pay you for the food. How much was it?”
“It’s on your card, don’t worry.”
Derek grins. He likes that he can trust Stiles with his personal credit card. It took him a year to get there with Julia. He’s not sure what that says about him. Either Derek’s grown softer in his old age or Stiles is even better at getting past his defenses than Julia was.
“I should get going.” Stiles grabs his bag to go.
“Or you could stay. I was just going to eat an obscene amount of sweet and sour pork and call it a night.” Derek moves to the kitchen and starts grabbing plates. He knows Stiles has a hard time saying no to free food.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. You came all the way to deliver it, and I know you’re not going to let me tip you.”
“I wouldn’t say no to a new leather jacket,” Stiles teases as he washes his hands at the sink.
Derek gives Stiles a deadpan look. “You’ve got my card.”
Stiles holds up his wet hands. “I was kidding.”
“I wasn’t.”
Stiles sputters, “You’re not serious.”
“Didn’t Julia tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Stiles dries his hands grabs napkins and chopsticks.
“She wrote enough to fill a book and she left out that part?” Derek opens the cartons of food and starts to load up their plates. “A little bit of everything, right?”
Stiles leans over to look at the options. “Yeah, and extra Kung Pao.”
Derek dishes out food and hands over a heaping plate. Stiles sits at the bar and digs in with his chopsticks.
“You hate Kung Pao,” Stiles says with a mouthful.
“It’s your favorite,” Derek replies without thinking.
“Yeah, but you ordered dinner for yourself.”
“Huh.” Derek frowns. “I must have ordered on auto pilot.”
“Lucky for me.” Stiles grins.
“So, we got bonuses on Thursday,” Derek says while dipping his eggroll in spicy mustard.
“I noticed.” Stiles chews and nods his head. “It’ll make a sizable contribution to my considerable student loans.”
Derek ponders that for a minute. He knows how fortunate he is to have been raised a Hale. He’s never worried about money a minute in his life. He can’t imagine having to spend a bonus on debt. Bonuses are supposed to be extra--they’re meant for splurging on something frivolous, or adding to savings and watching the interest grow.
“Well, Julia always got a little extra from me in cash and a gift. Her choice. So, if you want that leather jacket, just charge it to my card,” Derek says casually while picking up a giant piece of sweet and sour pork.
“Seriously?” Stiles says through a mouth of pork Lo Mein.
“What?”
Stiles just shakes his head and looks actually pained.
“Is something the matter?”
Stiles just shovels more food in his mouth.
Derek gets up and pours himself a beer. “Do you want one?”
Stiles nods.
Once Derek settles back down he looks at Stiles thoughtfully. “It’s just money, Stiles. It doesn’t mean anything to me. Buy yourself something, don’t buy yourself something. I don’t really care. But you earned it, so you should take it. Enjoy it.”
Stiles puts down his chopsticks. “You know, when I took this job I had forty bucks to my name.” He raises an eyebrow. “I was really nervous my cell phone was going to get shut off. Sometimes, late at night, I think about what would have happened if Julia couldn’t get ahold of me to offer me the job.” Stiles sits back in the barstool. “Now I can pay my rent on time, all of my bills, and at the end of each the month, I have enough to actually pay down some of the principle on my debt.”
Derek doesn’t follow, he can’t track Stiles ambivalence toward money combined with the sad look on his face.
“When I moved to New York after my MFA program, I was so broke. I was broke, but I was happy. I had never been more happy to starve. I was here chasing a dream, and that sustained me.”
Derek hasn’t been hungry like that a day in his life. He’s not even sure he’d know the feeling.
“It was amazing. A truly wonderful and humbling time in my life. I was having fun and I felt alive.” Stiles’ voice catches on that last word.
“What changed?”
Stiles lets out a bitter laugh. Derek takes a long sip from his beer and waits for Stiles to continue.
“When I finished at Yale, I felt like anything was possible. And at first, things were great. I got call backs. I booked jobs. I did Law & Order and I wasn’t just a dead body. I got to play ‘cute waiter’ on The Carrie Diaries and ‘background hipster’ on Girls. I even had lines in Elementary and The Good Wife. I had choices. Directors seemed to like me. I was going to be a real actor.”
Derek remembers the look of awe on Stiles’ face the night of the gala as he watched the actors on stage.
“After a decent run my first couple of years doing theater and booking small gigs on all the shows that film in the city, things shifted. One play had to close early. And then another didn’t even make it to previews before the production went belly up. At that point I was just happy to be an extra in soaps. Then my agent sent me to LA for pilot season last year, and I come back three grand further in the hole. It was an expensive trip to be told ‘I have a face for stage.’”
Derek furrows his brow. “The expression is ‘a face for radio.’”
Stiles lobs a potsticker at him. “Thanks a lot, asshole.”
“Whoa,” Derek says quickly. “I didn’t say you had a face for radio.” Objectively, it’s a nice face.
“Well, maybe you didn’t, but that was the feedback I got from my agent.”
“I hope you fired that jerk.”
Stiles laughs. “Unfortunately, no. She let me go. She said I’m not attractive enough to play teenagers and I’m too cute to go out for more mature roles.”
“They say you have to expect a hundred nos before a yes.”
“They lied. I lost track after a hundred.”
“Is that what led you to Hale & Whittemore?”
“That was all Lydia.” Stiles sighs heavily.
Derek isn’t going to ask, he can sense it’s a sore spot. “So why did you...you know?”
“Quit?”
Derek nods.
“It’s fun starving for your art until the phone stops ringing.” Stiles lets it hang heavy in the air. “And what was I supposed to do, just wait until I lost my cute young face before I went after serious adult roles? Or get work done on my face so I could play a vampire? Or do something about this,” he gestures to his torso, “so that I could run around shirtless like those pretty boys on the CW and MTV?”
Derek shudders at the thought. Stiles is perfect in his uniqueness, and any attempt to make him conform would have taken away the very thing that makes him special. “No, of course not...None of those options are particularly good ones. I don’t think anyone blames you for getting discouraged. But...do you miss it?” Derek wonders.
“Every day.”
“Even the experimental theater where you just say ‘fork’ repeatedly?”
Stiles laughs and it actually sounds genuine. “No, maybe not that. But I miss it. I miss her…”
Derek doesn’t want to ask. The way he says her feels private, and Derek understands needing to keep a part of yourself hidden.
Stiles shoulders slump a little further. “I miss my mom.”
“Your mom?”
“She was a drama teacher, directed local theater back at home, did summer stock before she got married to my dad.”
The way Stiles talks about his mother makes Derek want to look away. There’s naked, raw emotion in his eyes.
“At first I did theater because of her, for her. Then it became my dream, too. And I only hung on as long as I did because of my dad. He was so…” Stiles swallows a few times before continuing, “He was so proud. I couldn’t disappoint him.”
Derek is familiar with that pressure not to disappoint. The crushing need for approval, the way nothing fills the ache for it, the ephemeral nature of any measure of success.
“I’m sure you’ve never been a disappointment,” Derek says finally.
“Yeah, what would you know, golden boy,” Stiles grumbles.
Something in Derek snaps like a rubber band. “I know plenty,” he spits.
“Enlighten me,” Stiles dares.
“I was married.”
“Big deal. You got divorced. It was your starter marriage. Don’t all you richy rich guys have them?”
“My wife, my ex-wife, tried to burn me and my family alive,” Derek says aloud, maybe for the first time ever. He hasn’t had to say it, or even talk about it, not since it happened. Everyone tip-toes around him and talks about it behind his back like it’s some big secret, like he didn't live through it.
Judging by the look on Stiles’ face, maybe it is a secret. His mouth hangs agape.
“I take it that wasn’t in Julia’s notes either.”
“I would have remembered that detail if it had been,” Stiles says and picks up his chopsticks, twirling some noodles around on his plate.
“Her name is Kate. We met when I was in law school.” Derek thinks about how she used to look at him, like he hung the moon, and how that look changed over time until she only looked at him like he should buy her the moon. “Things were fine for a long time. I thought we were happy. But there was a darkness in her, as cliched as that sounds.”
Stiles looks at him and he feels anchored, like he’s not going to slip away, like it will be okay if he talks about Kate. His mother won’t cry, and his father won’t turn stoic, Laura won’t curse, and Cora won’t shake with rage. Stiles stays quiet but he’s giving Derek his rapt attention.
“I didn’t know how to handle her. I didn’t...I didn’t know what to do. It started out small, with stealing a lipstick from a department store. Then it escalated quickly to stealing jewelry we had on loan from Harry Winston for a big society event. I could fix those things though, it was expensive, but I could make those things go away. But then she started withdrawing large amounts of cash from our joint accounts without explanation, and that’s when I knew it was a problem. The last straw was when she stole something from my parents’ place. It wasn’t something either of them noticed right away. She stole an ornamental box, you know, one of those knickknacks that collect dust on a credenza. This was a Fabergé box, expensive and highly collectible. She acted like my mother gave it to her when I found it. But I already knew I couldn’t trust her. I didn’t know how to fix that lack of trust, so I ended things.” Derek scrubs a hand over his face and runs a hand through his hair. “And I should have known. She made the divorce so easy. Too easy. She didn’t put up a fight. She didn’t ask for any more money than what she was entitled to by law, but she did ask for the apartment. So I gave it to her, even though Peter wanted to negotiate.” Derek remembers arguing with his uncle, and feeling magnanimous in honoring Kate’s request.
Stiles takes a sip of beer and waits for Derek to continue.
“She chose a night she knew we’d all be over at my parents' place. Pizza and pie night. Laura overfills the pies. The fruit and sugar bubble up and stick to the oven. It creates a lot of smoke. We always have to take the batteries out of the kitchen smoke detector.” Derek pushes his food around on his plate, he needs something to do with his hands. “She set the penthouse on fire and stood on the sidewalk to watch it burn. We were all in the living room watching a movie with the kids. My parents’ doorman thought it was odd she showed up out of the blue, months after the divorce. He called up just before the fire spread from the kitchen. By the time the fire department got it under control, the top two floors of their building burned and what wasn’t ruined by the fire was decimated by the water and smoke.”
Stiles holds his chin in his palm and props his elbow on the bar. “Well, shit.”
It breaks the tension. Derek give his a wry grin. “I told you. I know all about being the disappointing son.”
Stiles closes his eyes and sighs. When he opens his eyes he gives Derek a half smile. “Oh, poor little rich boy. So your ex turned out to have some pyromaniac tendencies, I hardly think that reflects on you.”
Derek raises an eyebrow. “I brought scandal and shame to the Hale name.”
“Your uncle does that on a weekly basis,” Stiles says with a snort.
“His sexual proclivities notwithstanding, he’s a credit to the family. Rich, successful, and at least he never married any of those men.”
“You’re rich, successful, and you can’t be faulted with your wife’s mental illness.”
“It’s different for me though.”
“Why’s that?”
“My uncle was the first to really establish a career outside of the family money. He was the trailblazer, I’m just a lesser copy.”
“God, I have never seen a dude as privileged as you be so self loathing and yet well-mannered at a pity party.”
Derek glares.
“Maybe being a lawyer isn’t original in your family, but you still did something no one expected of you. You could have been a rich dilettante. And if you’re not happy, then you should quit. Nothing’s stopping you, not money.”
“I’d expect that kind of advice from a quitter like you.”
“Uncool, man.” Stiles feigns being wounded.
“It’s true though. You have a gift and you’re wasting it as my assistant.”
“You’ve never even seen me perform.”
“I see you playing a role every day. And you play it beautifully.”
“I’m good at this. I’m fan-fucking-tastic as your assistant. And it’s nice for a change to feel competent about something. I like having money to pay for dinner when my friends come to town. I like taking cabs when it’s late and I don’t want to ride the subway.”
“Then stop being so angry at yourself for liking the money. Cut yourself some slack,” Derek yells.
“I’m not angry, you’re angry.” Stiles raises his voice back.
“Then stop being stubborn about the damn bonus.” Derek walks over to the small desk in the kitchen and pulls out a check from his wallet. He sets it down in front of Stiles.
“Fine, I will.” Stiles grabs it and reads it.
“Good.” Derek smirks.
“Great.” Stiles eyes go wide. “That’s too many zeros.”
Derek holds out his hand. If Stiles doesn’t want the money, maybe he’ll go behind his back and mail it into his debtors. It’s the standard twenty percent he gave Julia, and he’s glad he didn’t up it like he’d thought about when he wrote out the check.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t keeping it.” Stiles folds it and puts it in his pocket.
Derek laughs. “Okay.” He picks up his chopsticks and starts eating again. His food has gone cold. “I’m going to reheat mine. Want me to warm your plate up, too?”
“I’ll get it,” Stiles says and slides off the barstool and takes their plates with him.
“You’re a guest in my home.” Derek trails after him.
“I’m your assistant. I have to earn this bonus.”
“Oh my God. You are so annoying.”
“Get us some more beer,” Stiles directs over the hum of the microwave.
“Get it yourself,” Derek retorts. He takes the opportunity to eat potstickers out of the carton with his hands.
“You’re a terrible host.” Stiles laughs.
“Do you talk to all your superiors like that,” Derek says with his cheeks full of half-chewed dumplings.
“Nope, just you.”
Derek and Stiles sit down to eat the rest of their meal. They’ve both had two beers, but combined with the fatigue it makes them both a little braver to talk about things.
“Did you always want to be a lawyer?” Stiles asks while he takes seconds of the Kung Pao.
“I wanted to be something. I was good at sports, but not good enough to play professionally. I was book smart, but not genius levels. Peter said I’d be perfect for the law.”
“Why, because you’re driven and a little bit of an asshole perfectionist?”
“I believe he said it was because of the way I fill out a suit.” Derek rolls his eyes.
“Well, that must have been an encouraging start.”
“I didn’t see it back then, but I see it now. I’m just feather in his cap. I get to be his protégé but he hasn’t had to put in any of the work. He just parades me around when he thinks it will get him something.” Derek shakes his head in frustration.
Stiles turns toward Derek. “What was Kate like? You know, before.”
Derek sighs. “You know your friend Allison?”
Stiles nods.
“She was nothing like her, but she's an Argent…” Derek trails off.
Stiles eyes go wide. “So, intense, a little intimidating, and hot as hell?”
“Exactly.”
“Fuck. I had no idea. I mean, what are the chances?” Stiles looks guilty. “I’m so sorry. That must have been really awkward when Allison showed up.”
Derek waves his hands. “She didn’t know until right before the trip, I guess. She took me aside and we talked about it. Kate was estranged from her family, that much I knew.”
Stiles frowns. “Allison’s mom and dad are...very controlling, overprotective. I never understood why.”
Derek has theories about why Kate is the way she is, but not a lot of evidence. “Something, someone scared Kate. I thought I could help her by loving her.”
“You had good intentions. Whatever happened, it’s not on you.”
“But I feel the weight of it.”
Stiles puts his hand on Derek’s shoulder and squeezes it. “I know.”
After the moment passes, Derek spears a chunk of orange chicken on his chopstick and asks Stiles the question that’s been on his mind all night. “Do you think you’ll ever go back to acting?”
“Not likely,” Stiles says without pausing to consider it.
“But you admit you miss it. How can you give it up so completely if it's your dream?”
“I’ll get a new dream.”
“They’re not easy to come by,” Derek admits. “I’ve never really had that--hopes and dreams.”
“You sure you’re not harboring some deep seated dream that’s just too embarrassing to share?”
Derek blushes at the thought.
“You want to be a magician when you grow up? Run a clown school? Mime in front of the Eiffel Tower?”
Derek laughs. “Those are absurd dreams.”
“You’ve got enough money that nothing should be out of your reach.”
Derek considers that for a moment. “There are a lot of things money can’t buy.”
“Lydia would say you’re just not shopping at the right place.”
“Who’s this Lydia, anyway?”
Stiles hums and looks down at his beer. “Did you ever meet Lydia Martin?”
Derek fights to keep his reaction hidden. He pictures a petite redhead on Jackson’s arm. She’d been hell on heels as an intern at Hale & Whittemore. “She interned for us a few years back. After she graduated law school she declined our offer and opted to do a Ph.D. in math, if I remember correctly.”
“Yeah...I grew up with Lydia. I had the most ridiculous crush on her. We dated for about a minute in high school.” Stiles laughs. “She’s been dating Whittemore’s son since college. They live in Pasadena. She’s finishing her dissertation. Anyway, she’d been pestering me to get a real job, and one day she offered to send my resume to some people. I guess that’s how Julia ended up with it.”
Derek scratches his stubble and yawns. “I guess it was a boon for us then.”
“Alright, old man. I think you’ve hit your limit on deep fried meat bits covered in sugary sauce.” Stiles gets up and takes Derek’s empty plate.
“Leave them in the sink.”
“I’ll just throw them in the dishwasher.”
Derek rolls his eyes. “Go home, Stiles.”
“Did I wear out my welcome already?” he chuckles. "What about dessert?"
Derek laughs. "Help yourself if you can find anything. We can't all metabolize sugar like you. I might have a box of stale cookies in there somewhere." Derek gestures to a cabinet.
"Nevermind, this time. But next time, you better have ice cream."
"I'll try to remember."
"More like I'll add it to your grocery list," Stiles grumbles.
Derek texts his car service for a pick-up while Stiles scrapes the plates and loads everything quickly.
“What are you going to do, mope around the apartment and swim around in your piles of money all weekend?”
Derek furrows his brow and laughs. “I’m going to sleep and I’m not putting on a suit this weekend.”
Stiles grabs his messenger back and throws his jacket over his arm.
“There'll be a car downstairs.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s late.”
Stiles smiles. “Night, Derek.”
“See you Monday,” Derek says as he ushers Stiles out of the apartment.
“Thanks for dinner.”
“It was…” Derek searches for the right word. “It was nice to have the company.”
Stiles tosses him a wave and then he disappears down the hall.
Derek locks up and decides he’s too full to sleep. He messes around with his vinyl collection. He still can’t find a few of his favorite albums. He’s pretty sure they ended up in storage after the divorce. He puts on Tom Waits’ Closing Time album and grabs the stack of files so he can prepare for the Tate case. About an hour later he gets three texts in rapid succession from Stiles.
Stiles
11:52 PM Why did you let me eat so much
I’m in a fifth floor walk-up
11:54 PM I hate you
Derek
11:54 PM You could have taken the Kung Pao home. You didn’t have to eat it in one sitting.
Stiles
11:55 PM You tell me that now
Derek scans the page he was reading to find his place. He’d really rather be spending the night doing anything else but working on this case.
Derek
12:01 AM Tate case...ugh
12:02 AM Why are all of my clients complete assholes?
Stiles
12:02 AM I used to think lawyers were the worst kind of people
Derek
12:03 AM We’re not as bad as you initially thought?
Stiles
12:03 AM No, you’re all as bad as I suspected, but the clients are even worse
Derek laughs and finds zero defense to supply. Derek returns his attention to the file and makes a few notes. His buzz has worn off so he pours himself some bourbon.
Stiles
12:10 AM My dad is selling our house
Derek can’t tell exactly how Stiles feels about that, it’s not apparent from the text, but for whatever reason he wants to talk about it. Derek knows what it’s like to not be able to go back home, so he can be there for Stiles.
Derek
12:12 AM How do you feel about it?
Stiles
12:12 AM Happy that he’s moving on. Sad about the house. It’s dumb.
Derek
12:14 AM It’s not dumb.
Stiles
12:15 AM It’s selfish that I don’t want him to sell it.
12:17 AM I haven’t lived there in ten years.
Derek
12:17 AM Where is he moving?
Stiles
12:18 AM He’s moving in with Scott’s mom, Melissa. They’ve been dating for years.
12:20 AM Her house is a lot nicer. I get it. I do.
Derek can see that Stiles is typing, the little iMessage icon bubble flickers. He waits patiently and keeps reading the case file, but what little interest he had for the case has waned in favor of talking to his assistant.
Stiles
12:24 AM We used to talk about renovating it. My dad hasn’t done much to the house since my mom died. It’s clean, homey in the way two guys keep house.
Derek
12:25 AM Maybe he’d renovate if you told him how you’re feeling.
Stiles
12:26 AM We’re not all made of money, Derek. ;-)
Derek
12:27 AM You do know I don’t swim around in piles of money like Scrooge McDuck, right?
Stiles
12:28 AM I was wondering if you caught that reference earlier
Derek
12:28 AM Duck Tales is the shit
Stiles
12:29 AM o_O
I can’t really imagine you as a child watching cartoons
Derek laughs. If Stiles only knew that he still watches cartoons, and not just with his niece and nephew, he’d probably laugh his ass off.
Stiles
12:30 AM When you were a kid you probably wore little Brooks Brothers Suits and sulked because Cora got all the attention. You’re a classic middle child.
Derek
12:31 AM I was definitely forced into those little kid suits a lot. But I didn’t sulk. That was all Laura.
Derek gives up the pretense of working on the Tate case. His eyes feel like sandpaper and his body keeps jolting when his phone buzzes.
Stiles
12:32 AM OMG. You were the shy middle kid, weren’t you?
Derek shakes his head and rolls his eyes. He turns off the record player, sets the dishwasher, and turns out the lights. His phone keeps buzzing.
Stiles
12:34 AM I am going to take your silence as confirmation.
Either that or you’re engrossed in the Tate case.
12:35 I didn’t offend you, did I?
:-\
12:36 Please don’t fire me. I’ve come to appreciate the steady paycheck.
12:37 And who’s gonna buy me coffeeeeeee?
12:38 You’re a good boss, D.
I’m going to leave you alone now.
b4 u rly fire me
Derek
12:45 AM Was getting ready to sleep. I am still shy. Reserved is probably a better word. I’ve abandoned the Tate case, not offended, not going to fire you, not even for your offensive use of extra Es and stupid text speak. Thanks and good night.
12:46 you’re hopped up on sugar right now, aren’t you?
Stiles
12:46 i may have stopped for a pint of ice cream on the way home...g’night!
Derek
12:47 of course you did...night
zzzz
***
Stiles fits in Derek’s life in a way that Julia never did. Stiles has drinks with Cora on Thursdays if he’s out of the office at a decent hour. Sometimes they invite Derek, but usually he begs off. Laura calls Stiles for pep talks when she decides to go back to school for her Masters in Museum Studies after her youngest starts preschool. Even Derek’s parents warm to him. Stiles reads his mother’s unpublished short fiction and gives her feedback. His dad asks if the Sheriff has any interesting cases and they talk about the Mets.
The familiarity is not one-sided either. Derek gets tickets to shows and games when Stiles’ family and friends visit. Melissa takes an instant liking to him on her first trip to Manhattan. They play Words with Friends and she kicks his ass regularly. Allison and Derek end up Facebook friends, and sometimes she calls out of the blue to talk. They talk about Kate. Allison asks Derek one time, “What it’s like to love someone who’s damaged without letting it damage you?” Derek tells her he doesn’t have an answer.
Stiles spends a lot holidays with the Hales because California is just too far to travel to if he can’t stay for more than a few days. He has his own room at the Hales’ house in the Hamptons. They are in each other’s life in a big way. When Derek makes full partner in record time, at age thirty-four, he gives Stiles a check for ten grand, but it doesn’t feel like nearly enough. Derek’s one hundred percent sure he would have quit the firm entirely if Stiles hadn’t been there to rally his spirits after hard losses and even harder wins.
Stiles anticipates Derek’s needs before he’s even had time to think of them. Sometime after Stiles’ second year at the firm, Derek gets consumed by another case that goes to trial. He hates going to court when there’s a possibility of a reasonable settlement. Court trials require more energy and by the end of the week Derek feels depleted and impatient. Stiles calls him emotional and cranky. In a genius move, Stiles stops an enraged Deucalion from barging into Derek’s office. He diffuses the situation with his charm alone. Derek listens in on the intercom that Stiles and Derek share.
“Mr. Deucalion, how can I help you?” Stiles asks while getting up from his desk and blocking the way to Derek’s office.
“I need to speak to Derek. I insist.” Deucalion towers over Stiles.
“You know you can’t just barge in, Mr. Deucalion. You need a warrant, papal edict, or my say so.”
He can practically hear Stiles flashing his charismatic grin.
Deucalion raises his voice. “I’ve just been named in another frivolous lawsuit! Don’t I pay this firm enough to make these things go away?”
“Whoa. I need you to take a deep breath and a step back. I’ll talk with Derek and see if I can get you scheduled for later today.”
Derek doesn’t need to look up to see that Deucalion wants to challenge Stiles, but he backs down anyway and changes his tactic.
“You know, you’re quite striking when you’re forceful.” Deucalion’s voice drips with a rare combination of flirtation and malevolence.
Stiles doesn’t miss a beat. “I know you meant that as a compliment, but I don’t appreciate limitations being placed on my dashing good looks.”
Deucalion returns to the reception area and Stiles knocks on Derek’s office out of courtesy. They both turn off the intercom links to avoid feedback.
Stiles lets himself inside. “You heard.”
Derek snorts. “Yeah...and I’m in court this afternoon.”
“It’s fine, I’ll make Peter handle this.”
“Good…” Derek gestures absently with his hand. “Good work out there.”
“That’s the kind of work I do,” Stiles calls out as he leaves.
It’s true, Stiles’ work is top notch. He’s been approached repeatedly by other senior partners and lawyers from rival firms with better job offers. Derek tells Stiles to take a new job if he thinks it’s time to move on, but Stiles says he still feels like there are things he can learn working with Derek.
***
“I flex the acting muscle just fine at the firm,” Stiles says while dipping his spicy tuna roll into soy sauce and wasabi.
“Participating in mock trials hardly counts.” Derek reaches for the soy sauce and finds Stiles handing it to him already.
“I made Harrison Whittemore cry,” Stiles gloats.
“To be fair, he thought he made you cry first.” Derek remembers the conference room falling completely silent when the senior partner pulled out a handkerchief.
“My single teardrop is really my trademark.” Stiles beams.
"Their trademark here is the uni. Will you share with me if I order it?" Derek raises his hand to get the waiter's attention.
"You're buying, right?"
Derek rolls his eyes. "Always."
"Let's get sea urchin then!" Stiles says enthusiastically. “It’s my birthday, after all.”
“Really? You don’t say,” Derek teases.
***
***
Stiles
2:59 AM walking back to Heather’s. this is a bad idea. Ducking tequila
fucking. autocrat
gooddamn Lydia. this is her fault
Derek wakes up with bleary eyes and laughs at Stiles’ drunk texts. He tries to think of a compelling response.
Derek
3:01 AM stay safe
Derek flops back on the pillow and tosses and turns for fifteen minutes. It’s no use, he’s awake now. He turns on the TV and skims through a few things on Netflix. He finds the episode of Law & Order that Stiles is in and starts in from the beginning. He has a handful of lines, and maybe Derek’s biased, but he thinks Stiles is really good.
Stiles
3:32 AM i don know the etiqueft. what am i supposed to do???
i can’t find my left show
sho
shoe
Derek doesn’t know the etiquette of a one night stand either. The only person he’s been with since his divorce is Paige. She’s a doctor and works longer hours than Derek. They’re more off than on, but not for lack of trying. They have mutual affection, but not much commitment to make a relationship work.
Derek
3:33 AM how are you getting home?
googling a cab for you, give me the address
Stiles
3:35 AM scotts coimng for me
i’m going to kill Lydia
Derek knows that Stiles personally blames Lydia for most of his bad decisions.
Derek
3:35AM that bad?
Stiles
3:36 AM she said it would take my mind off of Arman
Derek wracks his brain. Stiles is pretty forthcoming about his dating life, but he doesn’t recall Arman.
Stiles
3:36 AM Armani
Danny
Derek
3:37 AM the model or the guy that works at the Bloomingdale's fragrance counter
Stiles
3:38 AM the model. sorry for walking you up.
waking
it’s cold
fuck i forgot my jacket
pretty sure the neighbors think i’m a peeping tom
Derek
3:39 AM maybe they’ll call the Sheriff ;-)
Stiles
3:40 AM shut up
Derek
3:40 AM hey, you texted me
Stiles
3:41 AM alcohl has worn off. realizing now how unprofessional this string of texts are
3:42 AM plz don’t fire me
Derek
3:42 AM i can’t. My mom put you in charge of the pies on the 4th.
Stiles
3:43 AM g2g
Derek
3:44 AM is scott there?
3:46 AM stiles?
3:48 AM scott or the sheriff come for you?
3:50 AM lmk if all is ok
Stiles
4:00 AM this is scott. stiles passed out in the car. told his dad it was jet lag.
4:01 AM thanks for checking in, bro. you’re a good dude.
Derek
4:01 AM np. night, scott.
***
“What’s up with you?” Laura asks as they hit up the juice bar.
“Nothing,” Derek says. Denying that anything is wrong is just a habit, a reflex. The people who know him well enough, who look past his stoic and reserved nature, know to keep pressing.
“Is it work?”
It’s more of a suggestion than a question. Laura loves him, Derek knows that, but she stopped being the person he could come to with his problems. She has enough of her own. Laura and her husband David are two weeks into a trial separation. She needs Derek to be the strong one, so he keeps up that brave face for her.
“Yeah, it’s this case,” Derek replies.
“Well, take care of yourself. I love you, little brother, but your form was weak today. I have to get cleaned up for my seminar. Next week?” Laura leans in and kisses him on his sweaty cheek.
“Next week.” He hugs her a second longer than usual and tries to take from it the comfort he needs.
When Derek gets back to the office, Stiles is on the phone. Derek waves and lets himself into his office. Ten minutes later Stiles breezes in with his trusty iPad. Before Derek gets started for the day, they always meet to go over the day’s schedule and touch base. Usually Stiles launches into it quickly, but today he just sits in the chair across from Derek. Derek gives him a look.
“So...Laura called me.”
Derek’s heart sinks.
“Said you seemed extra stressed with a case.”
Derek frowns.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t blow your cover. I didn’t mention your big win yesterday or the fact that you’re not due in court for at least a week.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” Stiles raises an eyebrow. “I cleared your schedule for the rest of the week.”
“Why?”
“You’re taking some much needed time off,” Stiles says while getting up and grabbing Derek’s briefcase. “Let’s go.”
“Now?”
“Yes, your mini-vacation starts right now.”
“Stiles, you’re being ridiculous. I don’t need a break. We just went to the Hamptons two weeks ago.”
“Yes, I know, my sunburn is in that horrific peeling stage. I look like a snake shedding its skin.”
“Gross.” Derek rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, enjoy that visual. Let’s go, big guy.” Stiles pats Derek’s back.
“You haven’t told me where we’re going,” Derek says as they head out toward the elevators.
“There’s no ‘we.’ You’re the one taking a break. I have work to do.”
“Stiles, you’re my assistant. What can you possibly have to do if I’m gone?”
“Not everything I do is for you, Derek. Not everything is about you. I mean, honestly,” Stiles jests.
When they get downstairs Derek’s driver is there and Stiles ushers him into the car. He’s about to slam the door shut when Derek throws out his arm. “Stiles, just get in the car.”
“Fine,” Stiles huffs, “scoot over.” Stiles gets all his long limbs in the car and they sit there in silence.
“Where to?” Derek asks.
“He’s your driver, you tell him.”
Derek shakes his head. “Stiles, you’re the one who canceled all my appointments and is forcing this little vacation. The least you can do is humor me and tell me what’s up.”
“Okay, Central Park. We can talk there.”
Derek nods to Ray, the driver, who eases them out into traffic. Derek looks down at his watch and touches the smooth gold. He doesn’t have the energy to fight Stiles over this little break. Maybe it’s not a terrible idea. When they get out of the car at Central Park, Derek actually notices just how beautiful the weather is outside. The sun is shining and the grass is green, it’s a perfect day. He’s been so anxious all week, he hadn’t even noticed.
“That’s better,” Stiles says as they begin to walk.
“Huh?”
“You’re kind of smiling.” Stiles stands in front of him. “Well, maybe not smiling. But you’re definitely not glaring anymore.”
Derek keeps walking. He picks paths at random. He watches families with little kids by the pond. He spots elderly ladies doing their daily loop. He people watches at Sheep Meadow. Stiles tags along but he doesn’t say much. It’s nice to just be out of the office together. For lunch they get hot dogs from a cart. They don’t taste as good as Derek remembers, but not much can live up to childhood memories. They sit on a bench in half shade-half sun, Stiles takes the shade. When Derek finishes, he crumples up his paper napkin and holds it in his fist.
“My ten-year anniversary would have been today.” Derek squeezes his fist around the balled up paper.
Stiles stops chewing and takes a drink of his water. He turns toward Derek to signal for him to continue.
“I don’t know why, but that’s been bothering me.”
Stiles sighs. “I can think of a few reasons.”
“I know it’s over. It’s been over for a long time.” Derek pretends to count in his head. “We split before Julia got pregnant. She and Kali invited me out and they got me drunk.”
“Good friends.”
“I guess,” Derek says bitterly. He knows it’s petty to be jealous of a baby, but he kind of is. He hardly gets to see Julia anymore. Sometimes they text, but she usually drops off after a few.
“You don’t talk about Kate.”
“I try not to,” Derek admits.
“Why’s that?”
“It makes other people uncomfortable.”
Stiles makes a face. “Well, that’s their problem. That’s not on you. She was a significant part of your life. And yeah, things are really fucked up between you two, what with her trying to burn you and your family alive and all. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t entitled to feeling a million different things about her.”
Derek crinkles his forehead. “Double negatives mean I--”
“Means you’re an asshole for correcting my grammar when I’m on your side, dude.” Stiles smiles. “Look, if your family doesn't like talking about her, then please know I give you complete permission to talk to me about her. I didn’t even know her, so it’ll be easy for me to just listen.”
Derek releases his clenched fist. He feels some of the blood return to his hand. “So, what’s next on your itinerary for my time off.”
“I honestly didn’t plan anything. This was all kind of spur of the moment. I just knew I had to get you out of the office.”
Derek gets up and offers Stiles a hand. “Let’s go.”
Derek and Stiles spend the week being tourists in the city and playing hooky from work. Derek lets Stiles pick out plays he’s been dying to see and they dine at restaurants that are booked months in advance for regular people. Name dropping Derek Hale means they can always get a table.
“I’ll never get used to this kind of VIP treatment,” Stiles says as they get seated at Blue Hill at Stone Barns.
Derek doesn’t know what to say. He’s somewhat embarrassed of the way his name affects people, but it’s also the only reality he’s ever known. He settles into his chair and prepares to be impressed by the dinner and wine pairings, or at least he hopes to be, considering they drove almost two hours in traffic for dinner.
The sommelier brings Champagne to the table. “For the happy couple,” he says as he pours them flutes.
Stiles blushes. “So the person I spoke with on the phone may have been under the impression that we’re a couple.”
Derek raises an eyebrow at him.
“What? They wouldn’t be the first people to assume,” Stiles replies defensively.
“And probably not the last.” Derek raises his glass to toast.
“Cheers,” they say in unison.
“It doesn’t bother you?” Stiles asks.
Derek frowns. “Why would it?” He takes another sip of his Champagne. “Does it bother you?”
“Are you kidding me?” Stiles laughs and the blush from his cheeks spreads to his neck.
Derek isn’t sure what to make of it, so instead he studies the menu like it’s the most fascinating thing in the room.
They eat ice cream everyday during their hiatus from the office. They try places all over the city. Stiles even talks Derek into driving to Brooklyn just for dessert one night. Stiles insists that the only way to truly enjoy the day is if you stop and eat ice cream.
“I believe the expression is ‘stop and smell the roses,’” Derek says over a dish of peaches and cream at the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory.
“Then clearly you haven’t been enjoying the right ice cream,” Stiles says while spooning a heaping amount into his mouth. “Ow. Brain freeze.” Stiles puts his face in his palm and moans.
Derek has to look away. “Do you have a favorite?”
Once Stiles can talk again he lists a few, “The classics are good--vanilla, chocolate, strawberry--but every brand or place has a stand-out. I don’t know. Haven’t tried them all yet so it’s tough to have a favorite.”
Stiles talks about his mother and how after a production she’d host an ice cream sundae party for the cast. He smiles and laughs, and Derek wonders if Stiles even notices that he hasn’t gotten morose like he usually does when he mentions her. Somehow the conversation switches and Stiles lets Derek talk about Kate.
“I was twenty-five when we got married. I thought I was an adult.” Derek laughs, but it’s a dull and lifeless sound. “Ten years later, and I’m not a whole lot wiser.”
“What would you tell your younger self?” Stiles asks.
Derek sighs heavily. “Your happiness won’t last?”
“You wouldn’t have told younger Derek to steer clear of Kate?”
Derek shakes his head. “Nah. I wouldn’t have listened anyway.” Derek talks about some of the good memories he has of their relationship, and he realizes just how important they are. Without remembering that sweetness, it’s hard to understand the bitterness of her betrayal. Talking with Stiles is a lot cheaper than the years of therapy Derek probably needs, and it’s a lot more fun over ice cream.
***
After another meeting with Derek's least favorite of all his unsavory clients, he comes back to his office in a sour mood. He motions with his head toward the elevators. Stiles knows that’s his signal to send calls to voicemail and tag along for a coffee break. Derek stews silently all the way to the café, and only replies in clipped, one-word answers as Stiles goes over the rest of the week’s schedule.
“What crawled up your ass and died?” Stiles asks while devouring his muffin.
Derek rolls his eyes. “Do you ever think about leaving?” he blurts out.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Derek emphasizes each word. “Do you think of going back to acting ever or is this really just it for you?”
“I don’t know where this is coming from.”
“Just answer the question,” Derek demands.
“No, no I don’t,” Stiles spits out.
“You’re a liar.” Derek thinks he's figured out all of Stiles’ tells, and getting defensive is a big one.
“What brought this on?”
Derek snorts. “You left your browser window open this morning while you were doing your online banking. I thought you were logged into my account. I didn't mean to snoop intentionally."
Stiles twists his mouth into a grimace.
"I saw that you paid off your student loans six months ago and I know you haven't had credit card debt in over two years,” Derek says finally.
“So?”
“Why are you still working for me, Stiles?”
"Because."
"That's not a reason."
"Because I'm good at it," Stiles deflects.
"I bet you're good at a lot things. It doesn't mean you have to do those things for a living."
Derek and Stiles have had this argument before. Stiles is good at everything he puts his mind to, and yet he's convinced that being Derek's assistant is his calling. Derek knows it's not.
"I know meeting with Deucalion puts you in a funk, but don't take it out on me."
"I'm not. I just think it's total bullshit that you're sticking around to help me out while I work for the scum of the earth. He is the most morally bankrupt person I have to deal with, and I once defended an actual hitman."
"Johnny the Mattress?” Stiles says fondly. “Good guy."
"Remember his meatball recipe?" Derek asks wistfully.
"I dream of those meatballs sometimes."
Derek shakes his head, unwilling to be deterred. “The point I am trying to make is that I got you those subscriptions so you would think more seriously about acting.”
“I’m not quitting to go back to acting.”
“You are wasting the best years of your life, can’t you see that?”
“Contrary to what my paycheck says, you are not actually the boss of me, Derek.” Stiles gets up from their table.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m walking away before we both say things we’re going to regret.”
“What about your coffee?” Derek says as the barista calls out their orders.
“Drink it. Throw it away. Give it to the homeless guy out front. See if I care,” Stiles says as he leaves the café.
Derek shakes his head and groans, but he’s not willing to let this go. He texts Stiles to meet him back at the office so they can talk. Derek dumps Stiles’ coffee and heads back, gathering the necessary courage for what he’s about to do. When he returns he goes to his desk and starts typing. He drafts a letter as official as he can before calling down to HR to finalize the arrangements. When Stiles arrives about an hour later, his cheeks are red and flushed.
“Take a seat,” Derek directs. His mouth feels dry and his hands are shaking. He rests his palms on his desk to settle them.
“Derek, I’m sorry for storming out of the café--”
“Stiles--”
“Sometimes I forget, I mean a lot of times I forget to remain professional. Because we’re friends. But I do know, I do know you’re my boss. I never should have said the thing about something crawling up your ass--”
“Stiles!” Derek interjects again.
“Sorry. Shit. I’m talking right over you.”
Derek runs his hands through his hair, frustrated before he can even begin.
“Derek, you’re going to mess up your hair.”
“Well, then it’s going to have to be messed up.”
Stiles eyes go wider and he blinks slowly. “Derek?”
“Stiles, I’m sorry.” Derek cannot get the words out. He slides the crisp, white sheet of paper across the desk.
Stiles picks it up and scans the page. When he looks back at Derek he looks shocked. “Am I being fired?”
“Yes.” Derek’s voice sounds tinny in his head.
“I don’t understand. We’ve been in worse fights. I mean, we don’t fight. Arguments. There have been worse ones than that.”
“This isn’t about that,” Derek says, but the words don’t ring true.
“Are you saying I’m not doing a good enough job?” Stiles asks.
“I don’t think you’re a good fit for this job anymore.”
“You can’t fire me. Not after all those times I joked about it. I never thought you would do it.” Stiles sounds breathless.
“You’re an at will employee. It means Hale & Whittemore are not obligated to keep you on or establish cause for your termination, just like you haven’t been obligated to stay even when you had better competing offers.”
“I know what at will means, Derek.”
Derek nods and purses his lips. “A letter about your severance package and your final check will be ready within the hour down in HR.”
“That’s it?” Stiles sounds hurt and surprised.
“I’m sorry, Stiles.”
“No, you’re not. You know exactly what you’re doing,” Stiles says while standing. “Acting was my dream. Was my dream. Mine. Instead of forcing me to chase it again maybe you should find your own dream,” Stiles gestures with his hands, “because this place sure as hell isn’t it!”
Derek stands and watches Stiles leave. He bypasses the elevators and keeps walking. Derek wonders for a brief moment if Stiles is going to talk to Peter, but Stiles returns with a box, presumably to collect his things. It’s painful to watch Stiles through the glass that separates their areas. Stiles is efficient in his packing. He takes a few framed photos, his stainless steel water bottle, a potted succulent, and the contents of just one drawer. Derek knows it’s full of Stiles’ personal stationery, a Mont Blanc pen Derek gave him during staff appreciation week, and a leather diary Cora brought him back from her trip to Italy. He sorts through a small pile of papers and puts things back in their place. He labels a few files with Post-It notes. Stiles doesn’t keep anything personal on his work computer. He shuts it down like he’s just going home for the night. Stiles grabs his box and turns to give Derek a final look. Derek has to suck in a breath. Stiles looks betrayed, and that devastates Derek to his core.
Derek waits a respectable amount of time before deciding to head out for the day. He goes for a session with Ennis and powers through even though his muscles feel like jelly before he even starts lifting weights.
After twenty-five minutes Ennis throws him a towel and says, “Shake it off, Derek.”
Derek sits up on the weight bench and looks at Ennis. He must be able to tell something isn’t quite right.
“I’ll see you next week, if you’re up for it.”
Derek watches Ennis’ retreating form for a moment before getting up on shaky legs to head back to the locker room.
Derek orders a pizza for dinner. His workout was shot, so he thinks he may as well indulge in a full cheat meal. When it arrives, it looks incredible. It has all his favorite toppings, but it tastes like shit. He drinks a beer to wash down the cardboard taste, but his beer tastes flat. He decides to go to sleep early. It’s been a shitty day, but he just has to get through Friday, and then he can indulge in a proper mope over the weekend. He turns out the lights and heads toward his front door to check the deadbolt when his door swings wide open.
“Derek!” Cora yells from the foyer. “Derek! Are you clothed?”
Derek goes to meet her. She’s half covering her eyes with her hand and peeking in between her fingers.
“I don’t know why you always ask that when you barge into my house. If you’re really worried about that, you could try knocking.”
“Oh, good. You’re here.” Cora sneers as she hugs him. “Part of me thought you might be out still, the other part of me thought maybe you wouldn’t let me in.”
“Why wouldn’t I let you in?” Derek asks confused.
Cora pulls back and gives him a judgmental look. “You forgot it’s Thursday, didn’t you?”
Derek makes the connection. “Oh.” Stiles and Cora have drinks most Thursdays.
“Yeah…” Cora hangs her purse on the coatrack. “You want to talk about it?”
Derek walks toward the sofa in the living room. “Do I have a choice?”
“Not in the slightest,” Cora says as she helps herself to his liquor cabinet.
“Pour me one.”
“Is this your first?” she asks while she pours.
“Yes, mom.”
Cora brings over two glasses of bourbon and hands one to Derek. She arranges herself next to him and takes a sip. “So, do you want to explain what the hell you were thinking when you fired Stiles today?”
Derek takes a sip of his drink and lets it burn on the way down. “I had to let him go.”
Neither of them speak. Derek doesn’t offer further explanation and Cora doesn’t press.
Cora screws up her face eventually. “Why?”
“I couldn’t stand watching him waste his life being my assistant.”
Cora takes a sip and bobs her head. “I mean...I get it. I can’t fault your reasoning, but I take issue with the execution of your plan.”
“It wasn’t really planned. But I felt like it was coming. It was a foregone conclusion that he’d leave.”
“For acting,” Cora adds.
“For acting,” Derek repeats, but he’s not sure he believes himself. He fired Stiles because he was afraid he’d never leave on his own, but it doesn’t explain Derek’s feelings of fear of being left and forgotten. It’s something to consider for another day.
Cora turns toward Derek and holds her hand out for his. Derek lets her hold on to him.
“Derek...as much as you care for Stiles, it doesn’t give you the right to take away his ability to choose. Going back to acting should have been his choice, but you took that away by firing him.”
Derek absolutely can’t see it that way. “I know he isn’t happy with me now, but I know he’s going to thank me later. When he makes it, he’ll understand. You’ll see.”
Cora shakes her head and smiles sadly. “But what if he doesn’t make it? What if he never thanks you later? What if you just ended the most significant adult relationship of your life and you never get him back?”
Derek furrows his brow. He’s not sure which statement to tackle first. The implication that Stiles won’t make it as an actor or the implication that Derek and Stiles have broken up. That’s just crazy; both of those things are crazy. Derek knows it in his bones that Stiles is going to be successful. He lights up rooms, he makes everything better, people can’t help but fall in love with him. And there it is--a sudden, yet inevitable epiphany staring Derek in the face--another thing he’ll have to consider another day.
“You’re wrong, Cora. About both things,” Derek emphasizes. “I’m not even going to dignify your remark about Stiles not making it. It’s not in the realm of possibility. Even Lucy Liu and Jonny Lee Miller think he’s great. They said so in the commentary of that episode of Elementary he did!” Derek rants.
Cora gives him a frown. “Derek. Do you hear yourself?”
Derek can hear himself, and yes, he knows that maybe he sounds like Stiles’ superfan. But he just can’t help it, because Stiles really is that good. So he just launches back into his argument. “And about that second thing. No. I know it might look different from the outside, but we are complete professionals,” Derek insists.
Cora just raises an eyebrow at him.
“We have never done anything, I swear.” Derek can feel his face heating up at the thought.
“Never on those late nights in the office?”
“Not once,” Derek answers truthfully.
“Neither of you have hinted, teased, maybe flirted with idea?” Cora’s lips curl into a smile.
“No. We’ve had a one hundred percent professional boss and assistant relationship.”
“Well, that’s just a barefaced lie,” Cora sasses back.
“I think I would know,” Derek huffs.
“Your relationship is not one hundred percent professional.”
“Okay, fine. We’re maybe a little closer than that. We’re friends.”
Cora raises both eyebrows.
“He’s like family.”
“You care for him. Intimately.”
Derek opens his mouth and squawks. “I’m not sure what you’ve been imagining. I don’t think I want to know, actually.”
“I have imagined nothing! You’re the one imagining it--”
“Cora, stop! I do care for Stiles, but as a friend.” Derek feels flushed and clammy. It has to be the bourbon on a nearly empty stomach. “We aren’t as intimate as you may have imagined.”
“Oh my God, Derek. Intimacy is not who you let touch you. Intimacy is who you text at ass o’clock in the morning about anything and everything. Intimacy is giving someone your undivided attention when you are exhausted, overcommitted, and all you want to do is sleep. Intimacy is the person you’re thinking of even when they’re sitting twenty feet from you.”
Derek sits back and takes it all in; he can’t think of a way to argue with his sister, and doesn’t want to really. “That’s deep.”
Derek puts his chin in his hand and looks at his baby sister. She’s nearly thirty and hasn’t been a baby for a long time. She’s rootless, a wanderer (directionless, their parents would say). She bounces from yoga retreats to slow food communes. She has a handful of half-started degrees, and has been in love a thousand times. She’s in love with love, so maybe she knows a thing or two about it.
“Come here.” He opens his arms wide for her. Cora puts her glass down and scoots over to cuddle. “When did you get so wise?” he presses a kiss to the top her her head.
Cora giggles. “You big sap. I didn’t come up with that on my own.”
Derek wonders which one of her self-help books it came out of, or if it’s something her therapist said.
“I read something like that on Tumblr once.”
“Tumblr?”
“Yes, the internet is full of wise people.”
“Not from what I’ve seen,” Derek snorts.
“Well, it’s also full of trolls and pictures of cats, but there are also unplumbed depths of wisdom.”
Derek squeezes his little sister tighter.
“Oh my God, you giant dork. I just paraphrased, don’t get so emotional. If I had known it was going to make you so verklempt I would have memorized it word for word.” Cora rubs circles on his back. “What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m just going to try and not freak out,” Derek admits.
“Don’t freak out. I know all about you and Jackson. This family’s sexual fluidity is its worst kept secret.”
Derek cringes at the mention of Jackson. “I didn’t think it was really a secret.”
“It’s not, I guess. We just don’t talk about it at all.”
Laura had come out to their parents while she was in college, but then surprised them both when she married David. Their uncle had slept with his share of Park Avenue princesses before dating men exclusively since his forties. The Hales are open minded, they just don’t talk about things.
“Well, we’re all on our own journeys, Cora.”
“Now who sounds wise?” she says while looking up at him. “Are you going to be okay without Stiles?”
Derek hadn’t stopped to think about that when he fired Stiles. He’d only thought about Stiles’ limitless potential for happiness chasing his dream. Realistically, he knew Stiles would be angry with him, but he hadn’t thought that it might ruin their relationship altogether. His day to day interactions with Stiles were probably over for the time being, but Derek had to hold out hope that they’d find their rhythm again.
***
“Hi, Erica,” Derek says with a cautious smile.
“Derek,” she says coolly. She looks unimpressed with him. “Don’t misunderstand me taking Stiles’ position as my tacit support of your decision. I’m only taking the job because it’s the only one available.” She crosses her arms.
“Noted.” Derek swallows and clears his throat. “Do you mind me asking why you asked to be reassigned?”
“Pfft,” Erica says while tossing her hair, “I told HR that they should reassign me or expect me to sue the pants off of this firm.” Erica takes a seat at the desk and syncs her headset with the office line. “Your uncle is a pervert. I thought he had a boyfriend and then last week I caught him looking up my skirt.”
Derek scratches at his collar uncomfortably. “Yeah...I don’t think he’s all too discriminating when it comes to um...what’s between someone’s legs.”
Erica cackles. “Oh! Well, that makes a lot more sense. Still a pervert though.”
“Do you want to take the morning to get situated at the desk? Then maybe we can talk about any specific questions you have? I can order us lunch and we can get acquainted. There should be notes somewhere that Julia took. She gave them to Stiles when she trained him.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be in shortly.” Erica dismisses Derek with the flick of her wrist.
About an hour later, Erica knocks on Derek’s door and he waves her inside.
“I thought I’d order Mexican food. How does that sound?” Derek says while handing his iPad over for Erica to look at the menu.
“Oh, about that. Yeah, that’s not really my style. I try to get out during lunch. I mean, you can order me lunch today and we can do the ‘getting to know you’ bit, but in general you don’t need to buy me lunch.”
Derek raises his eyebrows.
“Which leads me to other things you don’t need to buy me. Gifts. I know all about your gift giving habit because everyone used to be so jealous of Julia. You bought her a Birkin bag.” Erica looks at Derek like she’s seriously displeased. “I mean, what the fuck, Derek?”
Derek doesn’t follow. “I don’t understand. She loved that bag.”
“It’s not about the bag, Derek, it’s about what the bag represents.” Erica waves her red painted nails. “Your assistant should work hard for you because that’s what we’re paid by the company to do. It’s really generous of you if you want to give your assistant an additional bonus, and I wouldn’t say no to that if you felt that I earned it. But I have to draw the line at gifts.” Erica gives Derek a firm but kind look. “The only man I want buying me gifts is my husband.”
Derek really tries not to take what Erica says personally. Julia and Stiles weren’t bothered by his extravagance. Well, actually, Stiles wasn’t always comfortable with it. He never picked out his own gifts, but he didn’t return them either if Derek had something delivered to his house. “Okay. No gifts.”
“And I need to take a lunch hour every day. I mean, I can be flexible, and of course I’ll work around your schedule, but I need to create some distance. Work is work, but I have a life outside of it,” Erica says emphatically.
Derek scratches his chin. Derek doesn’t really have a life outside of work. He has his family, but they aren’t as close as they once were. He admits that is probably his fault. After Kate tried to hurt him and his family, he withdrew from them. He thought it was easier on them to deal with the trauma if they didn’t have to see him fall apart too. They hated Kate, and they couldn’t understand how his own feelings for her were more complicated than that. He was angry and hurt, but he didn’t hate her. He hated himself because he’d failed her.
“Alright. Lunch hour strictly observed, no gifts, and…” Derek senses these are just the first in the line of concessions he’ll have to make.
“Your coffee break routine. Derek, if we’re going to get along you’re going to have to let me get you your chai every once in a while.” Erica holds up her hands. “I’ll totally let you pay, but I like going out and getting coffee for my boss, my friends, my coworkers, my husband, my mom, whoever I feel like needs it. You can’t convince me that makes me subservient or that it emphasizes gender roles. I just like being thoughtful. Probably the way you like to be thoughtful.” Erica smiles. “You don’t get to have the monopoly on being nice at the office.”
“I think I can handle that. What else?”
“That’s it. Just remember I’m not your momma, your girlfriend, or your girl Friday. You get ketchup on your suit, that’s your problem. Don’t eat ketchup or keep an extra suit at the office.”
“Okay.” Derek smiles and laughs.
“And I’m not your replacement Stiles.”
“I don’t want you to be.” He smiles wider.
“Don’t smile at me,” Erica snaps back with very little venom.
“Why?”
“You’re too goddamn charming when you smile,” Erica says as she gets up and returns to her desk.
“I think you’re warming up to me,” Derek jokes.
***
Derek fills the time reconnecting with his family and pondering the accusation that Stiles lodged. Stiles said that Derek needed to find his own dream, and Derek wholeheartedly agrees. The problem is that Derek has no idea how to do that. He thinks maybe he needs to trace the dream back to his childhood, so he starts with his parents.
He reinstates pizza and pie night in the fall and everyone gets really sentimental about it. Everyone asks why they ever stopped in the first place. It’s silly that they ever did. It was always fun to pile into the kitchen and make pizza and pie from scratch. Now that Laura’s kids are old enough to help and enjoy the experience, it’s even better.
One day, Derek and his mom are working on the pizza dough and sauce and he decides to ask her what’s been on his mind. “Mom, I was wondering, do you remember when I was kid, what did I want to be?”
Derek’s mom, Talia, is a striking woman in her sixties. She doesn’t have a spot of grey yet and she has just a few laugh lines around her mouth. She looks thoughtfully at Derek and rubs a smudge of flour from his face. “What’s this about?”
Derek stretches the dough and avoids giving her eye contact. “I don’t know. Just something I’ve been thinking about for a while.” He glances over and sees her watching him intently.
Talia quirks her mouth, and the set of her jaw tells Derek she wants to say something, something motherly that she wants to stop herself from saying.
“What?” Derek finally breaks.
“Nothing, it’s just you, kid.”
Derek puts more concentration into shaping the dough into near perfect rounds.
“You were always my sensitive child,” she finally continues.
“You make it sound like I was a cry baby.”
“No, that was Laura. She didn’t enjoy having siblings until you two were old enough to do her bidding.”
Derek grunts. He remembers being put up to Laura’s wacky ideas and getting in trouble.
“You were my child who always needed that extra affection. You weren’t dreaming about the future or have your head in the clouds.”
“That was Cora.” Derek smiles.
“Bless that girl. What would we do without her?”
“Be a lot more bored.”
“Certainly.” Talia stirs the tomato sauce and tastes it. “Honestly, I don’t remember what you wanted to be. I don’t think you were the kid who thought about the world like that. You’re much more like your father and me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when I was a kid I didn’t really have a relationship with my parents or my siblings.” Talia makes a face.
Derek knows she’s thinking about the unpleasant years spent in boarding school.
“You want to connect to people, help them. You want to be a good person, and enjoy your family.”
Derek feels himself frowning. “I don’t feel like I help people.”
“But you could,” Talia says with a smile.
“I never thought of having kids with Kate,” Derek admits.
“Did she want them?”
“No.”
“Well, you loved her and you respected her thoughts on kids and didn’t try to change her. And that says something about you.” His mother looks proud of him.
“Thanks.” Derek knows how uncomfortable this might be for his mother to talk about Kate.
“I think about her sometimes,” she admits quietly. “I think about what I could have done differently. How we could have loved her better.”
Derek turns toward his mother and he feels some of the burden he carries being lifted. “Me too.”
She kisses him on the cheek and sniffles a little.
“Are those crusts almost ready?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’ll go get the gang,” Derek says while taking off his flour covered apron.
Derek goes to help his dad set the table while Laura and Cora work their magic with the pizza toppings. His mother lets the grandkids help her with the fruit for the pies.
“How’s work going?” Derek’s dad asks. It’s his standard conversation starter.
“It’s fine. We don't have to talk about it though. I know it’s boring for you.”
“It's not boring…”
Derek shakes his head. “Dad, did you ever think of working? Getting a regular job?”
Aaron Hale, eldest great-great grandson of the famous turn of the century industrialist, has led a life of mostly leisure. Derek knew his dad put on a suit and tie most days when he was a kid, but he didn’t really understand how he passed the time time until he was older. He and his wife spend most of their time donating and raising more money for the arts and sciences. They’ve made careers out of being philanthropists.
“You mean as opposed to living off of the family money?” his father offers bluntly.
“I don’t mean it like that.”
He laughs. “I know.” He puts down plastic placemats for the kids and arranges the cutlery. “Not really. I just knew I wanted to have the time to raise a family. That was the only job I ever wanted.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, well your grandmother and grandfather were always so busy doing society things and in such denial of their robber baron roots. I was raised by an army of nannies, as was the fashion back then. I saw my parents a few hours a week. They just seemed busy, too busy to pay attention to your uncle and me. I wanted something different for myself.”
Derek nods.
“I didn’t realize how boring life would get after I no longer had children that needed help with their day to day lives. I don’t know what I’d do if your sisters’ lives weren’t always in flux.” He gestures with his hand to the kitchen.
No one talks about Laura’s and David’s separation. The kids are extra sensitive and clingy. Their whole world has changed, and Derek understands that on a deeply emotional level.
“Imagine if Cora suddenly grew up? I would be beside myself,” his dad whispers.
“She is the perpetual child.”
“She keeps things interesting.”
“You could say that.” Derek fiddles with the taper candles. They’re the plastic, battery operated ones. “What about me?”
“You were always my brave boy. You wanted to be responsible and good. I don’t know where you got that.” His dad chuckles.
“Mom says I get it from you two.”
“Well, I suppose that could be so.”
“I don’t feel particularly brave or good. I work for Uncle Peter and I’m a divorced thirty-six year old.”
“Your life’s not over, Derek. You have hidden depths. You might surprise yourself.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you’re my child.”
Derek sighs and feels no closer to figuring out who is he or from where he came. He thought asking his parents would illuminate the parts of himself he couldn’t understand, but instead he just feels more confused.
Laura corners him after dinner while they’re in the kitchen doing dishes. “Have you and Stiles talked?”
“You know we haven’t, Laura.” Derek scrubs at a pan furiously.
Laura hops up on the counter. She never was much help in the kitchen. “I get that he’s angry. I’d be pissed at you too.”
“I thought you were trying to give me a pep talk?”
“I am, but in my own way.” She kicks her legs out like a child and bangs her heels against the cabinet.
“Well, don’t.”
“Look, you have to stop being angry at the world just because one person didn't like you giving unsolicited advice. If I cared about that sort of thing, I wouldn’t have any friends.”
“Laura, do you have any friends?” Derek asks pointedly.
Laura tosses her dark hair over her shoulder. “Well, that’s beside the point.”
“And what is your point?”
“What I wanted to say is that I have faith you and Stiles will start talking again soon.”
“You don’t know that.” Derek rinses the pan and sprays water all over himself accidentally.
Laura snorts. “I do.”
“How come?”
“Because you have faith in him, and I have faith in you.”
“Wow, when did you become such a sap.” Derek flicks her with dishwater.
Laura hops off the counter and hugs him around his waist from behind. “I am still older than you, and I will kick your ass for smart mouthing me.”
“Hey, Laura?”
“What?” She gives him a noogie.
“What do you think I’d be good at?” Derek asks as he extricates himself from her hold.
“The possibilities are endless. Give me a clue what we’re talking about?”
“Stiles said that I was pushing him to go chase his dream, and that I need to find a dream of my own.” Derek leans against the counter and sighs. “But I cannot figure this out. I talked to mom and dad and they were zero help. I don’t want to ask Cora because--”
“Well, yeah, it’s Cora. If you ask her for advice you’re going to end up looking for double rainbows and going on all-vegetable juice diet until you reach emotional clarity.”
“Right.”
“I don’t know Derek. We’re pretty lucky people. We can do and be anything. And if I had any clue what I want or what I’m good at, then I wouldn’t be getting a second masters and on my way to divorce.” Laura scuffs the floor with her boot.
“Mom and Dad said I’m sensitive, and that I want what’s good.”
Laura leans over and pats his cheek. “You are what’s good.”
Derek leans into her hand. It’s been a long time since he felt that was true.
“You class up the place, wherever you go.” She pinches his cheek.
“I don’t feel like that. I feel like I’m carrying the muck around with me.”
“You know, you could use your power for good, not evil.”
“I’m not a superhero, Laura.”
“No, but you are a highly educated and skilled lawyer. You can’t tell me that there aren’t people in need of that?”
Derek sighs. “I’d like to do more pro bono cases, but Peter usually only lets me do one a year.”
“Gee, I don’t know if it’s come to your attention, but you don’t really need the money from the firm. You’re kind of independently wealthy. I know that’s taboo to say and all.”
Derek shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Laura gets her bluntness from their dad. She says what she means and doesn’t really care what people think. Derek admires that quality, but he’s never been good at saying exactly what’s on his mind. Derek calculates risks first, thinks before he speaks, and worries about the outcome.
***
Peter is considerably younger than his brother Aaron, less than twenty years older than Derek. He’s handsome and knows it. He’s vain and showy, and all the things Derek is not. His new assistant greets him and lets him into Peter’s office.
“I just wanted to do you the courtesy of telling you in person what you’ll find in my letter. I’m leaving the firm,” Derek says swiftly.
Peter grins mischievously like he’s going to put up a fight. “I’d like to say I’m surprised, but I’ve been expecting this.”
“Bullshit.” Derek knows Peter just likes to sound as if he can read Derek.
Peter steeples his fingers and leans across the desk. “I’ve noticed your lackluster performance over the last few months.”
“If you thought I wasn’t up to snuff, then what was up with the bonus last month?”
Peter flicks his hands. “I didn’t say you weren’t good. You’re always excellent. But you’ve lacked that confidence you used to have.”
Derek wants to argue, but doesn’t bother. He can’t even remember this so-called confidence. Confidence is something he’s practiced and honed over the years, it isn’t innate for him and he doesn’t consider it a virtue the way his uncle does.
“Where will you go?” Peter strokes his goatee, ever the cartoon villain.
“I have a noncompete clause, so don’t worry. I’m not going to join another firm.”
“So you’re just quitting? What, are you going to be like your mom and dad? Give all your money to charity and milk it out of others? Or are you going to be like Cora, my dear niece? Eating, loving, and praying to the deity du jour.”
“There are worse things that I could do with my life. And I’ve done them all. For you.” Derek stands to go.
Peter rises and extends his hand. Derek shakes it and gives his uncle his laser like focus.
“Don’t be a stranger, Derek.”
“See you at Christmas dinner, Peter,” Derek says, a note of finality in his voice.
Derek’s goodbye to Erica is brief. He tells her during their coffee break that afternoon. “I’m leaving Hale & Whittemore.”
Erica purses her lips.
“What, you have nothing to say?” Derek smirks. “That’s a first.”
“Oh, funny. Are you going into comedy?”
“Maybe.” The future is wide open for Derek.
“Well, I guess the timing is pretty good.”
“Why’s that?” Derek says while sipping on his chai.
“I’m pregnant,” Erica says with a smile. “And you’ve been such a gentleman, not commenting on the weight gain.”
Derek smiles wide and holds his arms out. Erica lets herself be pulled in for a hug. “You’re stunning, as always. And I’m so happy for you and Boyd.”
Erica giggles. “You’re such a softy underneath your cool exterior.”
“I’d say the same about you, only your exterior is as hard as nails.” Derek pats Erica on the back.
“Take care of yourself, Derek,” Erica whispers in his ear.
It took them a while, but they eventually found their rhythm. Erica never tried to replace Stiles, and she tried even less to be like Julia. She was one hundred percent herself, an excellent assistant, and Derek’s very reluctant friend. She told him off when he was being overbearing, but she also accepted that Derek was fiercely driven. If Erica didn’t want to do a project his way, he’d tackle it on his own, but he could not be deterred.
“You’re the only one I’ll miss from that place,” Derek admits as he pulls back.
“Well, you don’t have to miss me. We’ll stay friends. Boyd likes you.”
Derek is skeptical about Erica’s promise. He still hardly sees Julia, and she was his assistant for five years. She was the closest confidante he had when everything went down with Kate. He and Erica are far from that level of closeness.
“I had no idea Boyd likes me. He’s usually so reserved.”
Erica swats him playfully. “That’s how I know he likes you! Come over for poker next week. It’ll be fun.”
“I’m actually terrible at poker.”
“Perfect! My next boss may not be as generous as you. I’ll need to make up the money somehow.”
***
Derek creates a routine in the chaos that is Laura’s home. He lets his niece and nephew jump on the bed and pile in for story time at night. They don’t care that the adults in the family are calling Derek’s extended sleepover an early midlife crisis. Derek takes Daphne to ballet class on Tuesdays, and he picks Oliver up from piano lessons on Wednesdays. The extra help around the house seems to ease the tension between Laura and her husband. David moved back in around Thanksgiving, and Derek has never seen Laura more committed to making her marriage work. Derek feels useful in a way he hasn’t in a long time.
When the kids are home from school during winter break, they ask Derek if they can make Stiles’ sugar cookie recipe. Derek doesn’t want to disappoint them, so he texts Stiles and crosses his fingers that he’s filled with holiday cheer.
Derek
4:42 PM if it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could send me your sugar cookie recipe? the kids are asking for them.
Stiles
4:46 PM yeah. i can email erica in the AM
Derek makes a face. Apparently Cora hasn’t told Stiles the news about Derek. She’s an effective Chinese wall between them.
Derek
4:52 PM don’t email erica. if you don’t feel comfortable sending it to me, you can send it to cora or laura. or not at all. it’s fine.
Derek sighs. This exchange is pointless and stupid, and he’s too old to be playing this game.
Derek
4:53 PM the kids will live. i’ll find something online.
Stiles
4:54 PM ouch. using the kids? that’s a low blow.
Derek groans and has to stifle the impulse to throw his phone against the wall.
Derek
4:55 PM forget it.
i didn’t mean it like that.
Stiles
4:55 PM did you fire erica, too?
Derek takes several deep breaths before replying.
Derek
4:57 PM i quit.
Stiles
4:59 PM when?
Derek
5:00 PM right after thanksgiving
Stiles
5:00 PM why?
Derek
5:01 PM can’t talk now. picking up Daphne from ballet.
Derek collects Daphne from her class and bundles her up in her winter coat and together they head home. Oliver is there with David but he has to go back to work. Derek fixes dinner for the kids and makes sure they bathe before bed. They ask about the cookies again and Derek tells them he’s working on it.
“Why can’t Stiles just come over and make them with us?” Daphne asks. She’s eight and she’s a handful.
Derek ignores her and tries to get Oliver to brush his teeth without his nephew biting his hand. He’s six but he still hates brushing his teeth.
“Uncle Derek.” Daphne tugs on his shirt sleeve. “How come?”
“He’s busy,” Derek replies without giving her eye contact. What kind of person can lie to a kid?
“Did you even ask him?”
“You know, I didn’t. But I will, okay.”
“When?” Daphne puts her hands on her hips.
“Later.”
“Promise?”
“Daphne.” Derek exhales deeply. He will not lose his cool over this.
“He missed Thanksgiving!” Daphne yelps.
Derek feels like he just went four rounds and lost, his teeth thoroughly pounded into the ground.
Oliver has a mouth full of toothpaste, but he tries to chime in anyway. “Momma’s punkin pie tasted funny.”
“That’s because she forgot the sugar. Spit, Oliver.” Derek lifts him up so he can reach the sink. Oliver insists on filling up his own paper cup so Derek hands him one and keeps him hoisted up over the counter ledge. “Rinse. Don’t swallow the toothpaste.”
“But it tastes like bubblegum.” Oliver giggles.
“You have a point, kiddo.”
Daphne and Oliver forget about grilling Derek about Stiles as soon as the take out books for story time. They still see Stiles occasionally, but they’re starting to notice his consistent absence from holidays. They’re so little, but already they’re learning that they can’t always count on the people they love to stick around. They seem to be adjusting to their dad being around, but Derek can see a cautiousness in their affection. After storytime he tucks them in to bed. Laura gets home from her night class not long after, just a few minutes before David walks back into the house. They both look exhausted and head to bed with a nod and a thanks to Derek. Derek gets ready for bed and pulls his phone out of his pocket. There are no more messages from Stiles and his email inbox only has an ad for a sale at John Varvatos. Derek tells himself that he’s doing it for the kids.
Derek
9:17 PM you up?
Stiles
9:25 PM yes. it’s not even 10.
Derek
9:25 PM sorry. forgot. my current social circle is in bed by 8
Stiles
9:25 PM ?
Derek
9:26 PM staying with laura and david
Stiles
9:25 PM ?
Derek rolls his eyes.
Derek
9:27 PM helping out
Stiles
9:27 PM ?
Derek
9:27 PM stop with the question marks. if you want to know something, ask me.
Stiles
9:28 PM i’m still angry at you
Derek’s heart sinks. He knows that Stiles is mad at him, he feels the aching loss of him in his life pretty much every minute of every day.
Derek
9:29 PM i know
i’ll leave you alone
Derek wants to turn his phone off. He doesn’t want to stare at it and wait for Stiles to decide to reply or not. But he’s weak, so he stares at it willing it to buzz with a new message.
Stiles
9:30 PM tell me why you quit the firm
Derek
9:31 PM i hated it there. didn’t really see the point anymore.
Stiles
9:32 PM i’m happy for you
Derek
9:32 PM thanks
Stiles
9:33 PM i’ll email you the recipe
Derek
9:34 PM ok
just one last thing
Daphne asked if you could come make them with her and Oliver
9:35 PM i told her i’d ask. i know i shouldn’t. i’m sorry...
Stiles
9:36 PM that face will get you everytime
Derek
9:36 PM pretty much
Stiles
9:37 PM tell her i can’t. i’ll get in touch with laura.
how’s Ollie?
Derek
9:38 PM still upset about the pumpkin pie incident
Stiles
9:38 PM aww. little man.
i have to go
ttyl
Derek is hopeful that Stiles will talk to him later, that it’s not just an accidental text he sent without thinking. Derek falls asleep clutching his phone, and in the morning when he checks his inbox, there’s Stiles recipe for perfect sugar cookies.
Derek does not push his luck and contact Stiles again, but it’s hard. It’s Christmas time and they have traditions. They used to play hookey on a Tuesday morning to do their shopping, and then drop everything off at Derek’s parents place. The Hales host an annual gift wrapping extravaganza for the family, complete with ugly sweaters and mulled wine. Derek would help Stiles box everything up and get it shipped to California. Derek would mail his gift for Stiles and the rest of his friends and family so there’d be something from him under the Stilinskis’ tree.
Stiles would get tipsy at the company party and sing karaoke with blinking antlers on his head. Derek would take a picture and post it on Facebook. They’d order late night Chinese takeout and eat at Derek’s place. Stiles would pass out on the couch, and in the morning Derek would take him to the airport. Derek would tuck his Christmas bonus check into his carry on bag, and Stiles would pretend not to notice. Stiles would pull a gift out of his bag and give it to Derek in the car. It was always something small like an out of print book or something handmade, but incredibly thoughtful. Derek would fawn over it and Stiles would shrug and say, “What do you get the guy who can buy anything?”
In hindsight, he can sort of see how Cora got the impression that there was something going on between Derek and Stiles. There are aspects of their relationship that were definitely more than professional. Their habits and traditions were even more intimate than friendship suggests, and yet Derek doesn’t know how or what to call it. Derek goes shopping alone on a Tuesday. It’s sad and depressing, but he gets through it. He wears an ugly sweater he found on Etsy to his parents’ gift wrapping extravaganza. It’s not as fun without Stiles there, but the kids are in a better mood this year because their dad is there and his sweater plays Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer.
“When can we have dessert?” Oliver asks for the third time in an hour. He won’t stop talking about the pumpkin pie Stiles made him and dropped off with Talia earlier in the day.
“That was so nice of Stiles to make you your special pie. Are you sure you want to share?” Talia asks her grandson.
Oliver looks scandalized. “I can’t eat a whole pie, Grandma. I’ll get a belly ache.”
Daphne is over the moon about the backstage Sugarplum Fairy experience that Stiles bought her for Christmas. “Why can’t you come with us, Uncle Derek?”
“I don’t think Stiles got enough tickets,” Laura explains to her daughter.
“Why can’t you just ask him to buy you one?” Daphne asks him.
“I think they’re pretty exclusive tickets, Daph.” Derek knows trying to reason with her is a futile effort.
“But won’t you be sad to miss The Nutcracker?”
Laura picks her daughter up even though she’s too big to be held. “Derek has seen it a lot of times. He needs a break this year.”
Daphne huffs, “Fine, but I’m going to remind Stiles that it’s not nice that he excluded you.”
Laura gives Derek a frown and Derek just stands there, stupidly warmed by his niece’s concern for his feelings.
A few days before Christmas, Derek heads to his apartment to make sure it’s still standing and to collect his mail. His apartment smells like stale, recycled air. He drops his mail, assorted catalogs, and a few packages onto the table. He notices a padded envelope with Stiles’ handwriting. He rips it open first and finds a small box wrapped in Peanuts Christmas paper. There’s no card. Derek’s heart beats wildly in his chest. He unwraps the box and lifts up the lid. Inside the box is a pair of gloves. The yarn is soft, and the color is an interesting mix of blue, grey, and white. The gloves have a thick cable knit across the top. They fit perfectly and they are warm and soft.
Derek goes through his mail on autopilot. He can’t believe that Stiles is finally reaching out on his own. He really tries not to read too much into the gift, but Derek knows the gloves are hand knit. He remembers Stiles trying to teach himself to knit with a Knitting for Dummies book. Derek teased him and asked him why he was knitting gloves in April. Stiles had laughed and said something about needing the practice.
Derek worries that the gifts he sent to the Stilinskis are all wrong. He wasn’t even sure if he should send anything since Stiles is still angry with him. He made a reservation at Melissa’s preferred bed and breakfast for her and the Sheriff. For Allison and Scott, Derek purchased a couples package at the spa Allison treats herself to once a year. Maybe Scott wouldn’t fully appreciate it, but he was the kind of partner that was satisfied if his other half was happy. He got Isaac tickets to a Kings game, he was easy. Kira was a bit trickier, but in the end Derek had gone with a Japanese chef knife to add to her impressive collection. He caught her looking longingly at them the last time she made them stop at Korin during her visit in the spring.
Stiles was undoubtedly the trickiest of the bunch to shop for this year, and really every year. He isn’t on speaking terms with Derek currently, so that means that Derek has to show him how important he is through a perfectly chosen gift. Derek usually gave Stiles a Christmas bonus plus a gift, but this year he wouldn’t be able to give him money, so everything he needs to say has to come from the gift itself. He couldn’t give Stiles anything too overly familiar or personal like clothes or cologne, but he couldn’t give him anything too impersonal either. Stiles had given Derek’s niece and nephew incredibly thoughtful gifts, and had personally knit Stiles gloves out of what Derek suspects to be cashmere. Stiles set the bar high, and Derek is stressed that it’s some sort of test designed for his failure. After much thought, Derek settled on buying Stiles a premium membership to an Ice Cream of the Month Club. Stiles might be angry with Derek now, but he’ll either want to kiss or kill him for the forty-eight pints of ice cream he’s getting in the coming year. It could go either way, really.
***
Derek
12:02 AM Merry Christmas, Stiles. Thank you so much for the gloves. They’re warm and soft and fit perfectly. Oliver and Daphne are pumped full of sugar cookies. It’ll be a miracle if they sleep.
12:04 AM I hope your trip to California is nice and that your family is well. Seasons Greetings from the Hales.
Stiles
12:05 PM was wondering if you got them. glad they fit...
Derek’s heart sinks. Stiles is angry at him and he won’t let up even a little to spread Christmas cheer. There is literally no hope. He’s about to just turn off his phone and go to sleep, and wait for the kids to wake him up on Christmas morning with an accidental knee to the balls or the face. Both would be less painful than what Derek’s currently experiencing.
Stiles
12:17 PM sorry, had to step outside before i could continue
Merry Christmas, Derek to you and yours. Stilinskis et al say a collective Ho Ho Ho and thanks for the gifts. Amazingly thoughtful, per usual.
12:19 PM if the kids are hopped up on sugar that’s your fault, as is the ten pounds i’m going to gain after i consume 48 pints of ice cream over the next 12 months. i officially hate you.
Derek grins from ear to ear. He’s under the covers and no one will ever know.
Derek
12:20 AM i’ll let you train with Ennis.
Stiles
12:20 PM lmfao
12:21 PM how are you?
Derek
12:21 AM ok. you?
He goes with a succinct answer, because really, what can he say? Miserable without you. Please forgive me? Derek would grovel if he thought it would work, but he’s pretty sure that Stiles isn’t ready to listen and he’s not ready for any apology Derek can give him. Short of building a time machine, the only thing Derek can do is wait.
Stiles
12:23 PM fine.
They are both terrible liars.
Derek
12:24 AM i should let you go before you catch a cold.
thanks again. Merry Christmas & Happy New Year.
Stiles
12:25 PM same to you. maybe i’ll see you in the new year.
It is not a lot of encouragement, but it’s enough. Derek takes it as a sign that eventually Stiles will be receptive to hearing a full explanation, and will forgive him if he apologizes profusely and sincerely. Derek doesn’t dare hope for more than reconciliation--friendship would be presumptuous, and anything beyond that would probably result in Derek’s utter humiliation.
***
His parents suggest coming to work for their foundation. There’s plenty of legal work to keep him busy, but after thinking it over he decides it’s time to stop playing it safe. Derek worked for his uncle because he offered him the job, not because he looked selectively at the firms in the city and decided where he wanted to apply. Working for his parents feels the same. Laura suggests getting in touch with a headhunter, and Cora suggests working on himself before he finds a job. Derek ignores them all and tries to create routine out of his commitment free days.
Derek works out with Ennis several times a week. He plays tennis with Laura on Wednesday mornings. Cora finally gets him to agree to yoga on Thursday mornings. Derek stills helps out Laura and David with the kids on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, their busiest days with work and school. Derek spends the rest of his time sorting through things at his house, reading, and cooking. All in all, the hours aren’t hard to fill. When he feels the need for contact outside of his family, he reaches out to his small circle of friends. He takes Julia and her son out for lunch. He meets up with Erica for movies, or dinner if Boyd is working late. Derek invites himself over to help Boyd build baby furniture for the nursery. Derek and Allison talk at least once a week. Sometimes Derek texts Kira for recipe advice. Melissa stills plays Words with Friends with him. Sometimes, when he’s a glutton for punishment, he watches Stiles’ episode of The Good Wife. Actually, he marathons the whole series twice. Derek’s not as lonely and depressed as he was in the months right after he fired Stiles, or maybe he’s just adjusted.
Derek stumbles upon his next job completely accident. During the first week of February, his parents ask him to come to a fundraiser. They need another person at their table and Derek is powerless to say no to his mother. The fundraiser is for the Legal Aid Society. Derek wonders if his parents orchestrated the whole thing to influence Derek. During a lull in the evening Derek leans in to talk to his mother.
“I could work for Legal Aid,” Derek says, testing the waters.
His mothers hums. “Well, that could be interesting.”
“You don’t think I could do it?”
“I’m sure you could. I’m sure they’d love to have someone like you on their team.”
Derek rolls his eyes. “Now you’re laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?”
“Legal Aid isn’t like working at Hale & Whittemore. You think anyone will care who your uncle is, who your family is?” Talia raises a shrewd eyebrow at Derek.
“Isn’t that the point? I’m a good lawyer, and it seems like they’re in need of them.”
“Are you ready to work in service of others?” His dad asks him.
Derek doesn’t even have to think. “I am.”
Aaron Hale claps his only son on the back. “Well, then I think you should go talk to Alan Deaton. He’s mingling with some of the board members over there.” He points to a few people congregating by the stage.
Derek excuses himself from the table and approaches the people from Legal Aid. He feels rusty at making these types of professional connections and overtures, but someone how he’s able to introduce himself and ask about how he might get involved.
Alan Deaton calls him the next week to explain some of the ways Derek might consider contributing toward the organization. Derek decides to at least work on getting his resume updated and writing up a proper cover letter. He’s either going to dive in and work directly for Legal Aid, or he’s going to establish himself in a solo practice and take on pro bono cases that way.
Derek orders Chinese takeout on Thursday and works on a draft of his cover letter. His doorman calls up to let him know his food has arrived. He tells him to send up the delivery guy. Derek grabs his wallet and swings the door wide open after the courtesy knock.
“Special delivery?” Stiles offers with a nervous smile.
Derek is taken aback and his eyes boggle.
“Big mix up with the Chinese restaurant. The delivery guy went to the office again. The receptionist got flustered and the delivery guy got pissed when there was no one to claim the order. He called the restaurant, they called me about the mix up. I guess my number is still on file with your credit card.”
“Oh,” Derek finally manages. He stands there and has absolutely no idea what else to say. “Why didn’t you just give them my address?” he says while taking the the bag of food from Stiles’ hands.
Stiles makes a face. “I was going to. Then I asked them what you ordered.”
Derek furrows his brow.
“You ordered Kung Pao again. Did you forget you don’t like it?” Stiles rubs the back of his neck.
“Maybe I changed my mind about Kung Pao.”
“Is this a recent change?”
“Maybe. Maybe I missed having Kung Pao around.”
Stiles quirks his mouth. “Are you going to let me in or are we just going to stand in your doorway talking about Kung Pao as a metaphor for you missing me?”
Derek steps back to let Stiles in and wills the blush in his cheeks to go away.
Stiles walks in like he owns the place. He helps himself to a beer from the fridge. He hands one to Derek like they do this all the time, shoot the shit in Derek’s kitchen over takeout. Derek puts the food down and grabs plates and starts opening up containers.
“Are you staying for dinner?” Derek asks.
“I mean, I guess. You did order Kung Pao,” Stiles says as he heads to the sink to wash his hands.
Derek silently panics and wishes he’d left on his street clothes. He’s in flannel pajama pants, wooly socks, and a long sleeve henley. The bands around the wrists are worn out so he’s haphazardly rolled up the sleeves.
“Wait, the Kung Pao is a metaphor for you missing me, right? You didn’t suddenly decide you like chili peppers, did you?”
Derek can’t help but grin. “No, I still don’t like chili peppers.”
“You’re such an asshole.” Stiles throws a potsticker at Derek.
“Hey!” Derek picks up the fallen potsticker from the counter and pops it in his mouth.
“Well, did you?” Stiles asks him pointedly.
Derek looks at Stiles fondly. “Yeah, I really did miss you.”
“Then, yes, I’ll stay for dinner.” Stiles takes a seat at the bar and gestures for Derek to serve the food.
“A little bit of everything?” Derek asks even though he knows the answer.
“Yes, and extra Kung Pao, please.”
Derek starts dishing up plates and tries to think of what to say. Stiles is better at filling the silence than him.
“So really, why did you order it?” Stiles presses.
Derek looks at him sheepishly as he hands Stiles his plate. "I think I got used to ordering it. Even if it wasn't for me, I wanted to have it."
Stiles starts eating while Derek makes his plate. He doesn't know what to say or how he should begin, so he starts with small talk. "It's Thursday. Don't you have plans with Cora?"
"Oh yeah, we were having drinks when I got the call about your takeout."
Derek sits down next to Stiles and starts in on his soggy egg rolls.
"Your sister pretty much kicked my ass," Stiles admits.
Derek snorts. “That’s Cora for you.”
“It must be a thing with the Hale women.”
Derek raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“Your niece also pulls one hell of a guilt trip.”
Derek laughs and attempts to twirl some noodles around his chopsticks. He can’t really imagine what Daphne said. She’s only eight, and already she’s intimidating grown men.
“She was very cross with me for the first hour of The Nutcracker.”
“Oh, that.” Derek remembers how upset she was that her uncle wasn’t invited.
“She said that just because you had seen it before didn’t mean it was okay to exclude you.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. She asked me how she was supposed to enjoy herself knowing you were going to miss out on the Sugar Plum tea party.”
Stiles starts laughing and it’s contagious. Derek has to quickly swallow his food before he chokes on it. He’s overcome with full-on manly giggles. Stiles clutches at his side and looks pained, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Derek feels like whatever tension was in the room is gone now.
When they can both breathe again, Derek offers to thank Daphne. “She’ll be proud to know she got us talking again.”
“She probably won’t let us live that down.”
“Maybe we don’t have to tell her just yet. Maybe when she’s older.”
“Definitely.” Stiles nods effusively. “But...um, I guess the real reason I’m here has less to do with them pressuring me. I felt like it was time.”
Derek gives a tight lipped smile. “You’re ready to hear the full apology.”
Stiles grins. “As much as I’m looking forward to that...no. I didn’t come here for an apology. Not really.”
Derek feels his heart stop.
“I came here because the most incredible thing happened to me this week.”
Derek’s heart gives an experimental beat.
“I auditioned a while ago for this thing...and I got a call this week. I got it.” Stiles beams at Derek. “I got cast in a film. It’s not going to be a blockbuster or anything, but the script is really good. I feel like it could be something.”
Derek feels like his heart is going to burst with joy. “That’s brilliant. I’m so happy for you.” Derek smiles so hard he feels like his face is going to crack. “Oh my God. This is amazing... just...wow. I’m so happy for you,” Derek babbles.
Derek really wants to pull Stiles in for a bone-crushing hug, but he’s not sure they are back on those terms yet. Stiles either knows what he’s thinking or he feels the same way. He hops off the barstool and moves toward Derek. He stands in the space between Derek’s legs and loops his arms around Derek’s shoulders. Derek grabs him around his middle. Stiles holds on and let’s Derek squeeze the life out of him. Stiles’ cheek presses up against Derek’s neck. Derek takes in a deep breath and inhales the familiar scent. Stiles smells of his various products--soap, deodorant, and detergent, but also a bit like coffee and sweet caramel. It’s sappy and he knows that, but he smells like home.
“Thanks.” Stiles breathes out against Derek’s neck. It sends a shiver down Derek’s spine.
Stiles steps back and takes a seat. They both sit there looking at their food but not speaking. After a moment Stiles continues, “Anyway, I found out on Tuesday and I’ve been so excited. I called everyone back home and told them. I saw Cora today and told her. It feels surreal. Unreal. It feels unreal.”
“Give it time. It’ll sink in.”
“It felt unreal because I hadn’t told you. You were the one person I wanted to tell and I couldn’t, because I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Well, that’s kind of my fault.” Derek gives Stiles a half-smile.
“No, dude. This isn’t on you. Yeah, you were an asshole when you fired me, but I was the bigger one because I pretended like you had done some awful thing to me. When in reality, you were kinder to me than I was to myself.”
“You don’t have to let me off the hook, Stiles.” Derek feels guilty for how he handled things and it shouldn't go without saying.
“Believe me, you’re going to work for it later, but right now I just have to get this out there.” Stiles sighs. “For some reason, you’ve been the most supportive person in my life. For a while now. You made me feel okay about quitting acting in the first place. When I came to work for you, you didn’t judge me or make me feel like being your assistant was some second choice career. You made me feel like I could handle everything and you trusted me. You trusted me more than I trusted myself. You made me feel okay about working and enjoying the money. You never made it feel like I was selling out, which is pretty much how I felt all the time. It’s what all my actor friends made me feel, and it’s even sometimes how my dad made me feel. You even made me feel okay about having lingering thoughts about acting. You never made me feel like I had failed at acting, even though you never really saw me in anything. You made me feel okay when I got other job offers. You were like, happy and supportive, even if it meant I’d be leaving you. You pushed me gently, encouraged me to think about acting again. And you have no idea...you have no idea what that meant.” Stiles squeezes Derek’s shoulder.
Derek nods and feels like maybe he might break down, because this is a lot to take in at once. He hasn’t talked to Stiles in person in more than six months, and now they’re sharing a meal in his sad bachelor’s apartment and Stiles is saying these things about how Derek did something right.
“So it was really hard, going from having you in my life as my...boss--my friend, my biggest supporter--to not having you in my life at all. And I was really angry with you for a lot longer than I’d like to admit. I blamed you entirely for not having you to talk to anymore. You fired me, and then we weren’t talking. And for a long time, I didn’t want to see that us not talking was my fault.”
Stiles looks up at Derek and he looks wrecked. He looks so sad, and fragile. Derek shakes his head to disagree. Stiles cuts him off before he can begin.
“No, it was my fault. You never said, ‘Stiles, you’re fired and I don’t want to see you again.’ And you didn’t act that way either. You were always there reaching out, and I just had to grab on, and I...I never did. I just sort of pushed you away, time after time. You had more patience with me than I really deserved. You sent me that text when you caught that episode of The Carrie Diaries, even though I don’t even speak in it. I literally just bring water to the table. But you sent other ones, too. When you saw something or did something that made you think of me. At first I was just so happy to hear from you, and then I’d get upset with myself for wanting to talk to you. I was so stubborn, and all I did was make myself miserable--”
“It was no cakewalk for me either,” Derek chimes in before Stiles berates himself any further.
Stiles rolls his eyes.
“Anyway...this was my very long winded way of saying that I got good news this week, but it hasn’t felt real because I haven’t gotten to talk about it with you. So...that’s why I came here. I’m literally sick of being angry at you. I’m sick of myself. I can’t even remember why I’m mad at you.” Stiles seems to be grinning in spite of himself.
“I fired you without warning. Because I thought I was being helpful, but in actuality it was an awful thing to do to you. I don’t get to decide what’s best for you.”
Stiles sighs heavily and chuckles. “Oh yeah, that. I remember now.”
Derek reaches out and grabs onto Stiles’ hand. “But I am sorry, Stiles. I am so incredibly sorry. The absolute last thing I ever want to do is make you feel like you aren’t capable of making your own decisions. You’re the smartest, best, most amazing person. I had no right, none at all, to do what I did. It was inexcusable.” Derek pours every ounce of passion and sincerity he has into his apology. “I just hope that I can show you that I know what I did was wrong and that I will never do anything like that again. And you’re wrong. Maybe I never saw you act in anything before you started working for me, but I have obsessively watched everything you’ve ever been in. I even found a clip of you on YouTube saying ‘fork’ in that experimental theater troupe. I went out and bought Elementary on DVD just so I could listen to the commentary for your episode. I once quoted Lucy Liu’s and Jonny Lee Miller’s praise of your performance to Cora.” Derek sounds breathless, but he keeps going. “After quitting a law firm, I watched every season of The Good Wife, twice, just so I could see your face. You were my assistant, yes, but you chose to be my friend.” Derek’s already said more than he planned, so he goes for broke. “And I know I said I’d never put you in a position where you didn’t have a choice again, but I…” Derek’s voice breaks. “I’m sorry. I can’t go back to being just friends with you, Stiles.” The words tumble out so quickly that Derek actually shocks himself. He hasn’t let himself or his feelings about Stiles take shape before. They’ve been with him for as long as he can remember, but they’ve been nebulous, and any time he’s tried to really examine them his head has overruled his heart.
Stiles’ mouth hangs open. His eyes look a little glassy. He stands up quickly and Derek prepares himself for the worst. Stiles has never given Derek any indication that his feelings run deeper than friendship.
“You can’t just say stuff like that to me and expect me not to jump you,” Stiles shouts.
Derek still can’t bear to get his hopes up. “I’m sorry. The double negatives mean?”
“They mean you’re an asshole,” Stiles says as he throws himself bodily at Derek. “Come here.”
Derek stands and Stiles holds onto him. Stiles breathes him in and runs his hands through Derek’s hair. Stiles’ hands slip up Derek’s henley. Derek lets his thumbs rest in the jut of Stiles’ hip bones where they peek out above his jeans. It’s about ten times more erotic than their last hug, but they’re not nearly close enough. Derek pulls back a fraction of an inch to look at Stiles. His pupils are blown and his cheeks are pink. Derek looks at his lips and Stiles flicks out his tongue, perhaps unconsciously, or maybe he knows exactly what he’s doing to Derek. They both lean in and tentatively brush their lips together. It’s not enough. Stiles opens his mouth and lets Derek push in with his tongue. Stiles makes little appreciative noises as Derek nips and sucks at his tongue and lips. Stiles grinds his hips against Derek. It’s hot and wet and fast.
They’ve sailed past platonic friends and experimental G rated stuff right into toe curling kisses with the promise of something more explicit. They stand in the middle of Derek’s kitchen kissing, exploring each other’s body with lips, tongues, and deft hands. It’s hard to say whose hands wander further faster. Stiles gets a hand down the back of Derek’s pajamas but only because the waistband doesn’t present a major obstacle. He trails his fingers down the slope of his ass. Derek doesn’t want to break the kiss to give him verbal permission to go further, so instead he just groans and rubs his already hard cock against Stiles’ hip. Stiles reads his message and skims his fingers between his cheeks. Derek hums his approval. Derek doesn’t fare as well with Stiles’ pants. They’re slim fit and show off his narrow hips and lean legs, but they don’t leave much room for Derek’s hand to explore. He settles for rubbing Stiles through the front of his jeans and teasing his nipples through his layered shirts.
They’re putting their entire friendship on the line. This is definitely not for the faint of heart. Derek’s body is at war, his head says they need to slow things down, and the rest of him feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t get Stiles inside him immediately. If Stiles feels any doubt, he’s not showing it. His talented mouth sucks at his clavicle and Derek doesn’t actually remember stripping off his shirt, but it’s on the floor already. It’s winter and he keeps the heater at a decent temperature, but his nipples seem to protest until Stiles covers his pecs with his hands.
Stiles’ head snaps up and he stares at Derek with a glazed over look. “How are you even real?”
Derek tilts his head. “What do you mean?”
Stiles blinks at him slowly and his dark lashes fan out against his pale skin.
“How are you even real?” Derek turns the question on Stiles.
“Me?” Stiles jerks a thumb at himself. “I’m the weird looking dude in this scenario. You on the other hand...are impossibly sweet, smart, and so so hot.”
Derek actually laughs at that. He grabs Stiles’ hand and pulls him toward the couch in the living room. If they’re going to make out and rut against each other like teenagers, they may as well do it on a comfortable surface. Derek sits on the couch and gets Stiles to straddle his lap. Stiles towers over him on his knees, but it’s perfect for what Derek wants to do. Derek unbuttons his shirt and throws it somewhere behind them, then he inches up Stiles’ stomach with his nose. Stiles pulls his t-shirt over his head.
“See, weird skinny guy,” Stiles says modestly.
Derek leans back and takes in the sight of him. It’s not the first time Derek’s seen Stiles without his shirt. Stiles used to be a frequent guest at the Hales’ house in the Hamptons. They’d go swimming in the ocean and lounge around poolside in the summer. Derek always found it difficult keep his eyes on Stiles face when he’s shirtless. His shoulders are broad and his torso tapers down to narrow nips. There’s a distracting dark trail of hair from his belly button that heads south past the waistband of his pants. Derek doesn’t want to tell Stiles how attracted to him he is, he wants to show him. He pulls him forward and undoes the button of his pants, gives his zipper an experimental tug. He looks up at Stiles to find him watching Derek intently. His mouth is parted and he looks like something Derek could only dream. (And on those occasions when he would dream of Stiles, he’d wake with sticky sheets, burning embarrassment, and the need to repress and forget.) Derek palms his aching cock with one hand and uses his other to undo Stiles’ pants the rest of the way.
Stiles stands up and shucks off his skinny jeans and briefs. He runs a hand through his hair and bites his lip. He’s completely naked and seems to finally notice. “Is this seriously happening?”
Derek doesn’t let Stiles get shy again. He pulls him back on top of his lap and thumbs the head of his dick, rubs circles with the precome beading at the tip. “Tell me you’re okay with this,” Derek teases. He pulls Stiles into a kiss, settles him on his lap so that he’s a little more comfortable and relaxed. He rolls his hips under Stiles so that he can feel his hard length trapped between them. “We could stop. If you’re not okay with this, we could go back to just friends,” Derek says while peppering his chest with wet kisses.
Stiles lets his head loll back. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.” He bucks into Derek’s hand.
Derek strokes his cock and licks his lips in anticipation. He looks back up at Stiles. He looks blissed out, biting his lower lip and stifling a moan. Derek gets Stiles up on his knees again while he sinks further down on the couch. Derek pulls Stiles closer to his mouth and cups his ass. He blows air over the tip of his cock before taking the head of it into his mouth. Derek closes his eyes and loses himself to the sensation. It’s been a long time since he was with a man, but this is different. He’s intimate with Stiles in a way he’s never been with anyone, man or woman. He feels split open, vulnerable, like Stiles could put his hands inside Derek’s chest and scoop out his heart. Derek trusts him implicitly and knows that he won’t do that. He’ll protect Derek’s heart with his own.
Derek sucks and licks at the tender flesh. He likes the weight of Stiles on his tongue. Derek likes the way he smells and tastes. He likes the little choked noises Stiles makes, and he loves the aborted thrusts of his hips. Derek wants to take his time with this, but Stiles’ thighs are already starting to shake from exertion. The last thing Derek wants is to tire Stiles out this early in the night. Derek already has plans for Stiles and he’s going to need his stamina. Stiles moans and cups Derek’s jaw in his hand. Derek lets Stiles feel his mouth stretched around his cock.
“You’re going to have to stop if you want this to last longer than the next ten seconds.” Stiles sounds out of breath. He withdraws from Derek, stands up, and shakes out his legs.
Derek stays seated and palms himself again through his pants. Somehow he’s still clothed, but he’s a gentleman and will wait until Stiles is ready to undress him.
Stiles holds out his hands. “Up. Come on.”
Derek stands and tries to rearrange his dick so it doesn’t tent his pants like some kid with a boner he can’t hide.
“Take these off. Why are you wearing pants. You should never be wearing pants. You should be naked always,” Stiles babbles as he tries to get Derek’s pants off.
Derek obliges and kicks them off. “Always, huh? You’ve never even seen me naked.”
Stiles laughs. “Let me get a good look then.” He stands back so he can admire Derek’s physique. He wolf whistles. “Jesus.”
Derek blushes from his scalp to the tips of his toes. He knows he’s grown into an above average looking guy, but he’s never been totally confident about the way he looks. He was a late bloomer, and he wore braces until he was seventeen. His sisters teased him relentlessly about his ears and teeth. When they’re feeling especially catty they still call him ‘bunny.’ It took him years of playing sports to put muscle on his naturally lean frame, and it’s been a struggle for him to keep it on now that he’s not playing sports on a daily basis. Derek works out with Ennis just to maintain some of the bulk. When he would get busy with work and skip sessions, Derek could tell just after a week or two. His suits would start feeling big, and swimming around in his clothes just made him feel like more of an imposter than he already felt. Derek looks up and hopes for Stiles’ approval.
“I always forget how shy you can be,” Stiles says as he pulls him closer for a kiss. “You’re perfect to me.”
Derek smiles into the kiss and his heart beats wildly. He doesn’t want Stiles to wax poetically about his looks, and it’s like he knows that without having to say so. They are attracted to each other, of course, but their feelings run deeper than that.
“Bedroom?” Derek suggests.
Stiles nods his head but doesn’t move. “Unless you want to spread me against a desk and have your way with me?”
“Is that what you want?” Derek raises an eyebrow.
“I want you every way I can have you. But, um...yeah. I had a few X-rated fantasies that were office related.”
“Maybe later.” Derek smirks.
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
“I look forward to it,” Derek says as he steers Stiles toward his bedroom.
Derek turns down the bed and slips in between the sheets. He lets Stiles wander around his bedroom naked. His bedroom, like the rest of his house, is impersonal. It’s well appointed, and the bed is incredibly comfortable, but the room is nothing special.
“The master bedroom,” Stiles says while examining a framed family photo. He makes a face and then lays it facedown on the dresser. “I’ve never been in here with you, you know. I’ve come by to pick up clothes for you, but you’ve never been in the room with me.”
“Is that so.” Derek puts his hands behind his head. “We’ve been everywhere else in my house together.”
“This is the final frontier,” Stiles jokes.
“It’s a shame you’d rather explore my room than--”
Stiles launches himself at Derek mid-sentence. “Oh, I’m going to explore. Don’t you worry.”
Stiles attacks Derek with kisses. At the moment there’s no finesse to his technique, but Derek loves it anyway. He likes feeling cherished and at the center of Stiles’ undivided attention. Derek sighs dreamily. Stiles rakes his hands down Derek’s body and he shivers. It’s been so long since he’s been touched like this.
“You’re so responsive. I can’t believe it.”
Derek furrows his brow. “Why?”
“I don’t know...I just never thought you’d let me touch you like this.”
Stiles runs his hand through Derek’s chest hair and down his abs and further still. He touches Derek’s dick for the first time and he hisses out in pleasure. Stiles takes his time exploring Derek’s body, focusing considerable attention on his cock. He slides the foreskin up and down experimentally. He’s uncircumcised, unlike Stiles, and he appears to be fascinated by the velvet soft skin. Derek feels like he’s trembling under his touch, coming undone before they’ve properly begun.
“Did you think about it a lot. This? Us?” Derek wonders aloud.
Stiles sits up but doesn’t let go of his dick. He looks at Derek thoughtfully. “Honestly?”
Derek nods his head.
“Sometimes. Not often. I never thought it would happen. I didn’t want to be that pathetic person who pines after their hot boss. So I just...I pushed it out of my thoughts. I just focused on being everything else.”
Derek knows exactly what Stiles means. He lifts Stiles’ hand to his mouth and kisses each knuckle as he says each word. “Assistant. Partner in crime. Ok, partner in law. Friend. Supporter.”
Stiles nods in return. “Yeah. You?”
“No.” Derek nods his head and knows that it’s a contradiction. “I told myself you deserved better. And in those moments where I felt like maybe...like maybe we could be more, I’d remember the shit Kate used to say. And I know she was wrong about a lot of things, but on the off chance she was right about this one thing, I just didn’t want to let myself imagine being with you.”
“What did she say?” Stiles’ tone is hard.
“She said I was closed off. She said I always made her feel like there was some part of me that was inaccessible to her. I wanted something better than that for you. I wanted you to be with someone who could show you how they felt, and love you the way you deserve.”
Stiles scrabbles at the sheets to get on top of Derek. He straddles Derek’s hips and sits back on his thighs. He takes Derek’s hands and lifts his arms above his head. He pins them there and leans down. “Please tell me you know what she said is not true.”
Derek looks up at Stiles and just blinks.
“You are the opposite of closed off. You are so open with me. You let me in. You tell me things, maybe not everything, but a lot of things. And the things you don’t tell me, I can read. I can read your expressions and I know your body language. Sometimes I feel like I know you better than I know myself. If you were inaccessible to her, that was because there was something wrong with her. In a million ways you’ve shown me that you love me. You are perfect.”
Derek looks away and sighs. “I’m far from perfect, Stiles.”
“You are perfect to me. You are perfect for me.” Stiles dips down and chases Derek’s lips with his. After kissing him for several minutes and grinding their cocks together, Stiles pulls back. “Do you hear me, Derek?”
Derek looks at Stiles, really looks at him, his expressive eyes, the upturn of his nose, the curve of his lips, the dusting of beauty marks on his cheeks and across his jaw. If Derek is perfect for Stiles, than Stiles is something more than perfect. Derek nods his head and lifts his chin up for a kiss. He can’t maneuver much with Stiles on top of him, his arms pinned to the bed, not that he wants to go far. Stiles leans in for a kiss but then shifts positions so that his face is cradled close to Derek’s. He let’s go of Derek’s hands and clings to him.
“Love you,” Derek whispers into Stiles’ ear. He doesn’t mean to say it just then, but it’s as easy as breathing. He says it without the expectation of hearing it back just yet. He kisses Stiles’ cheek, the shell of his ear, his pulse point. “I love you. I missed you. Don’t ever go away again.” He holds onto him.
“You can’t get rid of me.” Stiles sighs.
“Don’t want to. I was so stupid. I never should have pushed you away.” Derek sucks at the long tendon of Stiles’ neck. That’s always been one of his favorite bits and he thinks it deserves his particular attention.
Stiles groans. “It’s okay. Somehow it worked out. I’m in your bed and I have a part in a movie. That doesn’t make you stupid. It makes you brilliant. Perfect. Oh, right there.” Stiles grinds down against Derek and then reaches down between them and circles his hand around them both.
Derek pants after a few languorous strokes. “You have to stop or I’m going to come.”
“That’s kind of the point, Der,” Stiles teases him.
“I want you to fuck me,” Derek says as he lifts Stiles off of him and reaches for supplies in his bedside table.
Stiles whines. “You can’t just say stuff like that to me. I need to be in you immediately.”
He lets Derek lie back before crawling between his parted thighs. Derek anxiously awaits Stiles’ clever fingers, but he take his time. Stiles resumes kissing Derek and jerking them them both off slowly. After a few minutes, Derek has to pull back to breathe. His brain needs oxygen and he’s close to the edge again. After a few deep breaths, he feels Stiles’ slicked up finger teasing his entrance. Stiles finds his mouth again and licks his way inside with his tongue. Derek has never had anyone kiss him so enthusiastically, or maybe Stiles is just better at it, and everyone from his past pales in comparison. Derek is so focused on the way Stiles kisses a path from his neck to his chest that he nearly misses him breaching the tight ring of muscle. His body protests before it adjusts. Derek feels like he’s gasping for air. Everything is too much. Stiles is relentless with his finger, yet his touch is light. He works him open until he can easily slip in a second finger. Derek can hear himself making sounds that should be embarrassing, but he feels too good to care. Stiles scissors his fingers and hits Derek’s prostate. Derek cries out from pleasure.
“Enough,” Derek says and squeezes his eyes shut and breathes. His cock is throbbing and he can’t really think. He strokes himself a few times, but his body wants more friction.
“Are we really about to do this?” Stiles asks as he rolls on a condom.
“Why, you want to stop?”
“No fucking way. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable like this?”
Derek thinks about it and Stiles has a point. It’s been a while and his body already aches all over. “Let me ride you.”
Stiles moans. “Have I ever told you that your direct style of communication is incredibly hot.”
Derek rolls his eyes.
“Seriously, it’s a huge turn on. You say what you want, and you mean what you say,” Stiles explains as he nudges Derek over so that Stiles can position himself in the middle of the bed. “Talk honestly to me, baby.”
“You’re honestly going to call me Der and baby?” Derek asks while straddling Stiles.
“Among other things…” Stiles reaches back and grazes a finger against Derek’s slick rim.
Derek lines Stiles up and inches him inside. Derek exhales and tries to stay as relaxed as possible. In between breaths he repeats Stiles’ other pet names for him. “Dude, buddy, boss, pal, asshole. Big guy.”
Stiles struggles to stay still as Derek adjusts. “Who’s the big guy now?” he waggles his eyebrows.
Derek lets out a shaky laugh, and after he’s fully seated he rolls his hips once experimentally. He groans and bites down on his lip.
Stiles uses his feet for leverage and rocks up. “You have to move. I’m dying.”
Derek matches him move for move. “Don’t die on me now. We’re just getting started.”
“I had no idea you’d be a talker during sex.”
“I’m not usually.” Derek sighs. “I think you’re the only one I’ve ever opened up to like this.”
Stiles hooks his fingers around Derek’s hips and works Derek up and down his length. The pace builds from slow to quick, and then Stiles changes the tempo so that Derek can hardly keep up. “Have I told you you’re amazing yet. Fuck. So tight. I don’t know…”
Derek leans down and kisses Stiles as he fucks himself on his cock, riding him hard and fast, taking a bit of control back.
Stiles bucks up with force and reels his head back. “It’s not just because I’m fucking you and I’m seeing stars, but I love you. Fuck. I do.”
Derek jerks himself in synch with Stiles’ hips moving. He feels his climax a second before it hits. “Stiles,” is all he manages to say before his hot, white cum shoots over Stiles’ chest. The force of his orgasm is shocking and he drops down onto Stiles, his elbows keep him from crushing him, but they do nothing to keep Derek from smearing the sticky mess between them. Stiles shouts as he finds his release a second later. They lie there panting and enjoying the afterglow for a bit. Derek’s knees ache and he’s kind of crushing Stiles, though he doesn’t complain.
“I should move,” Derek says while staying completely still.
“I want to say you should stay, but your jizz is starting to dry.”
Stiles holds the base of the condom as Derek maneuvers off of him. He can feel lube and sweat on his ass and he really is just too lazy to change the sheets. Derek lies on his side and hopes he doesn’t make a mess. After Stiles disposes of the condom and wipes off the worst of the mess from their chests with a washcloth from the bathroom, he gets back in bed and lets Derek hold him. They kiss lazily and whisper sappy things to each other.
“You looked so good.” Stiles hums and kisses Derek’s temple.
“You did too. I don’t know why you think you look weird.”
“I mean, I know I’m not awful looking--”
“Don’t fish for compliments. It’s unbecoming.” Derek laughs.
“I am not fishing! I just know where I rank,” Stiles says as he pushes his hair off his forehead.
“You’re a ten.” Derek smiles widely and feels something like butterflies in his stomach.
Stiles scoffs, “Oh, please. I’m a seven on a good day.”
Derek feels incredibly defensive about the way Stiles sees himself. “How come you get to say I’m perfect and I can’t tell you the same?”
“Um…”
“You are perfect to me too. Better than perfect, because you’re real. Perfect isn’t real, it’s an illusion.”
“Have you seen yourself?” Stiles looks at Derek with raised eyebrows.
“Yes, my front teeth are too big, my ears stick out, and I have a unibrow if I’m not diligent about waxing.”
Stiles chuckles and presses himself closer to Derek. He kisses Derek’s neck and lets little puffs of air out when he laughs. Derek squirms against him.
“Are you ticklish?” Stiles laughs harder.
Derek touches his neck and the sensitive skin there. “Apparently.”
When Stiles calms down a bit, Derek takes Stiles’ face in his hands. “I know you don’t believe me when I tell you you’re a ten, but you are. And I don’t care if I have to tell you everyday, because I will if that’s what it takes for you to see yourself the way I see you.”
“What did I do to deserve you?” Stiles asks adoringly.
“You were yourself,” Derek says with his lips against Stiles’. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Stiles sounds amazed. “I can’t believe we can just say that to each other. I mean, this is like our first date. That’s pretty fast.”
“We’ve known each other for years. Doesn’t that count for anything? And are you really going to call this a date, much less our first?”
Stiles laughs. “Are we going to be one of those couples who argue about the real date of our anniversary?”
“Are we a couple already? You just said this was our first date. Aren’t you going to court me first?” Derek teases.
“Nah. I’m not all that old fashioned.”
“Maybe I am?”
Stiles cracks up. “Real old fashioned, I can tell. You slept with me on our first date.”
“If we’re really calling this our first date, then I think I should at least let you finish dinner.”
Stiles whoops and bounces on the bed. “I forgot! We have Chinese takeout. Let’s go.”
Derek laughs at Stiles. “Okay. Food, shower, bed?”
“Or…”
Derek knows Stiles’ mischievous tone and is pretty confident he can guess what’s on his mind. “Or, we could make a detour and I can take you against the desk?”
“Fuck me. Yes, please.” Stiles grabs Derek’s hand and hauls him out of bed.
Derek and Stiles find their clothes strewn around the apartment and put the minimal amount on before heading to the kitchen. They kiss as they wash their hands, and drip everywhere. Reheating food and eating is a similarly messy affair.
“Are you going to feed me?” Stiles asks as they take a break from making out.
“How do you feel about wearing fried rice?” Derek asks while feebly attempting to eat with his chopsticks.
“Another time then.”
“Hey, tell me more about the movie. We kind of got distracted.” Derek turns toward Stiles, ready to hear about his new role.
Stiles’ eyes light up as he describes the script and the auditioning process. “It was incredible, Derek. I just kept thinking that even if I didn’t get the part, just getting to audition was a learning experience. I thought I was rusty, but I think maybe it worked in my favor? I don’t know, I felt like I attacked it differently than I used to…”
“What do you mean? What did you do differently?”
Stiles thinks it over for a minute. “It’s like everything we did back at the office stuck with me. I think what I was always most impressed with when I watched you work was your commitment to understanding the arguments. You’d study and analyze everything. You’d research, you’d look things up you already knew because you needed to be sure concepts were applied right. You knew everyone who was going to be in court. You read about them, you remembered, you listened. I know I used to joke with you that what made you good was that you’re an uptight and argumentative asshole, but that’s not it at all. Yeah, you’re particular. Everything you do is intentional. But acting is a lot like that.”
Stiles is so animated as he speaks, and it’s breathtaking for Derek to watch. He’s just happy that now he can look at him unabashedly. It’s strange for Derek to hear Stiles’ opinion of him as a lawyer, as his former boss. Derek knew his reputation around the firm wasn’t great. Erica confirmed that for him when she first started, and it took her a long time to warm up to his professional peculiarities. It’s nice to hear that those are the very things that Stiles appreciated.
“Grad school was all about developing those same skills. Studying the material, not just knowing the lines. But those skills...you get sloppy once you start working, you know? Or maybe it was just me. I got sloppy. If I had a bad day or I was stressed about money, which was often, I couldn’t let it go. I’d carry it with me into the audition. I’d forget to listen. I made excuses for not doing my research.” Stiles sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “When you fired me, I had to confront a lot of things I wasn’t proud of, things I tried to forget. For the first few weeks, I felt paralyzed. And then I just decided, ‘What the hell? Give it another shot. You’ve literally got nothing to lose.’”
“When do you start shooting? Where’s it filming?” Derek asks.
Stiles’ face falls. “I have to be out in LA at the end of the month for a bit, then we’re filming on location for three months in Europe. What am I going to do without you? I just got you back in my life.”
Derek kisses his frown. “Well, there’s these things called phones. We can text and Facetime. And if you have time for me, I can come fly out and see you?”
“Would you really?” Stiles looks excited at the prospect.
“Of course. I’m a recently unemployed millionaire. I have nothing but time and money on my hands.”
“Yeah, about that. Did you figure out what your dream is yet? You gonna run away with the circus or something?”
“Run away with you, maybe.”
“Sap,” Stiles says affectionately.
Derek rolls his eyes and smiles fondly. “I don’t know if I have a calling or a goal like you do, I don’t think I ever did. But having a life with you...kind of sounds like a dream come true. I think maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do.” Derek leans over and kisses Stiles on the lips and on his forehead.
“Oh my God. We are a disgusting couple already.” Stiles beams at Derek. “Well, besides being my lover,” he says with a dramatic flourish, “have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
Derek nods. “I’m actually thinking of doing work for the Legal Aid Society. If all goes well, I’ll interview sometime this month.”
“That’s awesome. I think you’d be incredible working for Legal Aid.”
“Laura said something a while ago about using my powers for good rather than evil.”
“I don’t think all your clients were evil,” Stiles offers generously.
“Yeah, Johnny the Mattress actually had a great code of ethics.”
“Seriously. And killer meatballs.” Stiles groans and makes a lewd hand gesture.
“Can you not? You make everything sound sexual.” Derek swats him playfully on the arm.
Stiles eyes boggle. “Me! No, you! You make everything sound sexual.”
Derek’s ears feel hot and he suspects they’re bright red. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I will never forget the first time you did it.”
“When? What? I did not.”
“I had been working for you for a few weeks and you said something about ‘needing to pound the shit out of something’ before dealing with Deucalion. I about died.”
Derek laughs and tries to recall that particular conversation. “It must have been a slip of the tongue.”
“Come here, let me slip you the tongue.”
“Stop it,” Derek complains but he leans in for a bruising kiss.
Stiles tries to acquaint himself with Derek’s tonsils. It’s nothing but the wet slide of tongues that hint at the other promise of something else.
“Why didn’t you volunteer?” Derek asks breathlessly.
Stiles pulls back and looks at Derek thoughtfully. He scratches his chin. “I knew that’s not how you meant it. But I have to admit, it got my imagination working in overdrive.”
“You thought about me pounding you on my desk at work?” Derek’s voice drops an octave. “How did you imagine it?” Derek wonders.
Stiles gets up from his barstool. “You know, rather than telling you, why don’t you show me.”
Derek readily complies. They abandon their food for the second time that night, but neither of them are all that hungry for food. Derek’s desk at home is a lot smaller than at work, but it serves its purpose just fine.
***
“Not in front of Ray.”
“Ray won’t mind…” Stiles says as he sucks a hickey on Derek’s neck. “You don’t mind Ray, do you, buddy?”
Ray raises the security glass.
“See, he doesn’t mind.”
“I mind, Stiles. Come on, you’re going to get your suit all rumpled. Sit up straight.”
“You’re no fun.” Stiles pouts.
“You’ll thank me when we get there,” Derek says while trying to fix his collar.
“Where’s there, anyway? Where are we going? I mean, you look hot in this tuxedo and all, but I’d rather get you out of it.”
“Later, I’ll let you peel me out of it.”
Stiles palms himself and groans in frustration.
“We’re here.” Derek waits for Ray to pull up and open the passenger door.
“We’re at Lincoln Center,” Stiles observes. “I thought you hated these things.”
“I do.” Derek puts his elbow out for Stiles to take.
Together, they make their way inside. Derek smiles at acquaintances and finds that it’s a bit easier because he’s actually really happy. Derek and Stiles have spent a whole week together, practically living in each others pockets. Maybe it’s just the honeymoon phase, or maybe it’s just them, but everything is just easy. They know each other inside and out already.
Stiles greets people politely and squeezes Derek’s arm when he senses Derek getting shy. “You had to buy a table, didn’t you?”
“It’s for a good cause,” Derek explains nervously. He searches the room and looks at his watch surreptitiously.
“Der, I know you hate these things. Wouldn’t you rather go home?” Stiles leans in and whispers, “I’ll let you--”
“Please don’t finish that sentence, I beg of you,” Derek says through gritted teeth.
“Why…”
Stiles looks up and follows Derek’s line of sight. His family and friends and Derek’s are all there spread out over a few tables. The Hales wave and manage to look pleased yet nonchalant, the way only really rich people do. Cora and Laura smirk like they knew this was coming all along. Scott’s and Allison’s dimples are in full effect. The rest of their family and friends are obscured by the crowd.
“Surprise,” Derek whispers to Stiles.
Stiles pauses and looks at Derek. “What. How. I thought you wanted to, you know--”
“Keep this private for a bit?” Derek raises an eyebrow. “We did. We had a week.”
Stiles laughs. “Well, I guess there goes our privacy.”
Derek makes a face. “You didn’t seem too concerned with privacy earlier.”
“Hush.” Stiles kisses him on the lips. “Let’s go say hi.” Stiles holds onto Derek’s arm and lets himself be led over to their tables.
The Sheriff and Melissa are the first to rush them for hugs.
“This is an awfully official way of announcing your new relationship, son. Did you want to take an ad out in the paper?” Stiles’ dad teases him as he gives his kid a hug.
“There’s plenty of time for that.” Melissa leans in and gives Derek a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so happy for you two, is what he means.”
Kira and Allison bombard Derek next. They aren’t as bad as his sisters. They at least wipe off their lipstick smudges. They both echo Melissa’s sentiments.
“I’m glad you all could make it.” Derek squeezes their hands.
“Wouldn’t miss an opportunity to put on a ball gown,” Kira explains while doing a turn to show off her dress.
“You look gorgeous,” Derek compliments. “Both of you.” He lets Allison do a spin too.
“I think maybe Isaac has finally noticed you’re a hottie with a body,” Allison teases Kira.
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Kira looks over at Isaac, who’s busy congratulating Stiles with Scott. “He’s even denser than you, Derek.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Derek asks.
“It means that you were pretty much the last to realize you were in love with your assistant,” Laura offers with a hug from behind.
“Oh, he knew. He was just too chicken shit to do anything about it,” Cora adds with a sloppy kiss to his cheek.
“Language, Cora.” Derek looks around and sees a few scandalized looking old biddies at the next table.
Cora rolls her eyes. “Drinks?”
Derek nods and pulls out cash from his money clip and hands it to his sisters to tip the bartenders.
“Your usual bourbon?” Cora asks as she backs away.
“Champagne,” Derek calls out. He looks over at Stiles and catches his eye.
“We have a lot to celebrate!” Stiles cheers.
There’s a collective moan from the group. They really are one of those disgustingly cute couples.