we could be the best thing, EVER

"Judge Martin, I would like to move to have this case thrown out."

"Oh?" asks Judge Martin. For some reason, there's an amused smirk, almost fond, tugging at her lips "On what grounds?"

A giddy, almost manic, grin takes over the defense attorney's face just then. "On the grounds that the prosecution's client is full of bullshit."

The judge rolls her eyes and an exasperated "Stiles," slips from her lips, seemingly against her will. (Derek's not really surprised by the familiarity between the two of them. With how often state-assigned lawyers are called to the courtroom on small cases, it wouldn't be too big of a leap to suggest they might be chummy.)

"Respectfully, of course." Mr. Stilinski--er Stiles?--winks back at her.

"Objection. Your honor, this is ridiculous."

"Overruled. Make your point, Stilinski."

"Mr. Davis says he saw my client at 12:30 P.M., on August 4th, attempting to take his back-right hubcap outside his apartment. Mr. Davis' apartment complex at that time, on that particular day, would have cast a huge shadow over the back lot as evidenced by the gaudy sundial-art-installation outside the courthouse. Meanwhile, my client's picture, when taken in for questioning, has a sunburn on the entire right side of his face. This would corroborate Mr. Lyle's story of walking home alone, down the upper, unshaded side of Elmore Street, during one of the hottest days of the year, for an hour straight. Also, the fact that Mr. Davis has no realistic idea how long it would actually take a person to steal a hubcap should be evidence enough."

"Uh-huh. And this wouldn't happen to be something you've ever had any expertise in, would it, counsel?"

"I plead the 5th."

And just like that, Derek's case is thrown out so quick, he's still reeling about it all the way home.

For the next two years, this becomes Derek's life. This man, this Stiles Stilinski, keeps showing up like a whirlwind and absolutely puts him in his paces.

Stiles, as he insists Derek call him, is a powerhouse. Relentless and unstoppable. That mouth can filibuster for literal hours (which, for those unfamiliar, is when someone legally cannot be forced to give up their time on the floor as long as they can keep talking), that brain quick as a whip, with a hunger for research, a mastery of the English language svelte enough to trip up even the most well-rehearsed lie, and an attention to detail like nothing Derek has ever witnessed before. It's like he knows every law inside and out. Lives it. Breathes it. It's like he had been raised on the law his whole life. Not only that, it's like Stiles enjoys it. Every case is a new game to get excited about.

All of it makes Derek's blood boil.

However, it's not always about losing to Stiles all the time, because, honestly, that might be less humiliating.

In truth, when faced against Stiles, Derek's bound to win about 60% of the time. Out of that 60%, only 5% of those wins actually feel earned. As for the other 55%?

He knows Stiles is letting him win.

Derek can't prove it, but he knows the asshole is holding back on purpose nearly half the time. Knowing that Stiles could have beaten him if he wanted to, but didn't, is somehow more frustrating than just losing.

He hates Stiles.

He hates that the guy is so chipper and playful all the damn time. He hates that Stiles could probably work at any firm he wanted, could make enough money to get a decent car that doesn't shit out all the time, could buy a proper-fitting suit, but instead CHOOSES to stay here "watching out for the little guy", as he so put it.

He hates that facing Stiles in court is the most challenged, the most motivated he's ever felt in his entire life. He hates that Stiles brings out in him the spark of passion and drive Derek had long thought had died. He hates that Stiles always tries to banter with him during recess or whenever they have to exchange evidence.

He hates finding out that Stiles only loses cases on purpose when his endless amounts of research points to the defendant actually being guilty of horrendous crimes, because Stiles is a good fucking person.

He hates Stiles' constant teasing and he hates that Stiles is somehow able to bring Derek down to his childish level to tease back. He hates how much he looks forward to court-dates with Stiles now. He hates being invited out by Stiles over and over to grab a bite together after a long day, as if Stiles hasn't been wiping the floor with him on this case for the last month. He hates it even more that he always accepts and that now they have their own designated booth at the diner across the street. Derek's so unbelievably frustrated, it makes him want to bite Stiles at the neck just to hear that smartass mouth squeal.

"Hey, I ever tell you I was thinking of quitting before you arrived?" Stiles asks one night as they're walking to their cars.

Derek's head immediately snaps to him at that. "What?"

Stiles smiles distantly at the thought. "Oh, yeah. Things had started feeling like being trapped in a cubicle, y'know? There wasn't any challenge in it anymore."

"What made you stay?"

"Well...you did. You were the first, serious competition I'd faced in a while. It wasn't a matter of winning just to win, anymore. Going against you always reminded me of the reason why it was important for me to win. It gave me stakes, because now there was an actual chance I could lose and an innocent person could go to jail. You, I don't know, kinda reignited my passion for fighting the good fight, I guess."

Derek can feel his heart thumping hard in his chest. He wants to say 'You did the same for me!' He wants to tell Stiles that he didn't think his life could ever be this fun or happy or messy or chaotic or exhilarating or challenging or fulfilling before coming to Beacon Hills.

But just as Derek goes to open his mouth to sing Stiles' praises, he instead finds himself roughly shoving him up against the Camaro and biting hungrily at that mouth and tongue that's been the bane of his existence. There's a surprised little squeak that Derek quickly swallows up, but it isn't long before they're both tearing at each others' clothes and fucking each other dirty in the backseat of Derek's car.

What's crazy is, after they get together, nothing in their careers really changes. The only difference is now they get to fuck each others' brains out after an intense battle in court (and the sound Stiles makes when Derek bites him is exactly what he always imagined it would sound like). They still face against each other on opposite sides in court. They still give it everything they got, no conceding even if they are dating now. Not to mention, Derek wouldn't dream of tempting Stiles over to his firm. Not when he knows Stiles is at his best staying where he's at.

The day Derek's family finally decides it's time for him to take over the firm with Laura is the best day of his and Stiles' lives.

Not only does Derek tell them he's declining, he hires Stiles as his attorney to negotiate terms against his entire family of well-seasoned lawyers.

The entire month-long negotiation results in Derek, not saying a single word, but absolutely beaming as he watches his boyfriend run circles around his mother, his father, his uncle, and both of his sisters on contracts. It's so unbelievably hot, they're banging on whatever flat surface they can get their hands on every time they leave the boardroom. There's even one very memorable blowjob in the empty hall outside the boardroom when Stiles somehow manages to get Peter to agree to a (most likely illegal) clause dictating the firm will pay Stiles a finder's fee for any pro-bono case Stiles takes on outside of Beacon Hills that strikes his fancy.

And, no one says it, but they all know Derek definitely, 100%, dragged his own firm through this negotiation just to show off how incredible Stiles is to his family and preen about it.

--

Fast-forward, Derek is going to be in the audience for the first time for one of Stiles' cases.

While waiting in the hall, Derek sees a familiar face from his New York days. The prosecution has hired the eighth best lawyer money can get, Jackson Whittemore. He's sporting a Rolex, sunglasses indoors, and the face of someone who thinks he's above literally every other person in town.

Well, at least until he sees Derek.

For some reason, Jackson seems to think Derek is all the way out in the middle of nowhere to 'watch a master at work' (which...well...is technically true...).

As Derek goes to sit in the audience, Jackson tells him in passing, "This'll be over so fast, probably won't even get a chance to learn the other guy's name."

Derek chuckles and says back, "Ooh, buddy, you have no idea."

Before Jackson can think more on that, a whirlwind of limbs and papers suddenly hurls through the doors.

Derek sits back, gets comfy, and waits eagerly for the show to begin.

He races down the stairs from the loft to the jeep, hesitates, then turns towards Derek's Toyota instead. If Derek's hurt, and he is, the Toyota will be more practical.

The preserve. Behind the school. Right. Go.

He drives. Fast but not too fast. First rule of responding to an emergency, don't become a casualty yourself. He still breaks every speed limit.

Because it's been /days/. It feels like forever but it's only been four days. He knows that. Logically he knows that. Four days since Derek disappeared without a trace. Not even the 'wolves could pick up his scent. They've all been out searching ever since Stiles raised the alarm when Derek didn't come home. In pairs so no one is left alone. In shifts, so everyone would get some food and rest.

Except for Stiles.

He tried. He was paired with Lydia and she needed to rest so they stopped at the end of their shift, Stiles made sure she got home safely, then he went home to rest.

But when he got there, he couldn't settle. The loft felt too big. Too empty. Too silent. The voice in his head was too loud. Telling him that it was pointless. Derek was already dead. Pointless even looking for him. Another voice, telling him it was all his fault. That he should have been there to protect Derek. He couldn't settle. Instead, he turned on some music and did research when he was supposed to be resting.

He hasn't slept for four days. He's barely rested. He's running on empty. Only adrenaline is keeping him standing now.

But not for long. He's going to get Derek, take him home, fuss over him for as long as he's allowed to, and then he's going to crash. Hard. He'll probably eat enough to feed a small army, then sleep for days. Just as soon as he knows Derek is ok. Not until then.

He screeches the Toyota to a halt in the far corner of the parking lot, closest to where the preserve meets the playing field, and jumps out.

"Derek?!" He shouts into the dark, fumbling in his pocket for his phone. He should have picked up a flashlight but the torch function on his phone will be enough. Probably. Probably enough. At least enough to stop him falling over his own feet.

Derek hears the engine, recognises the truck. And Stiles' too fast heartbeat. And the crunch of gravel under his sneakers as he stumbles out of the truck, the same way he always does. He summons the last of his strength and hauls himself to his feet. He has to get to Stiles. To safety.

Stiles is halfway to the treeline, phone in one hand, baseball bat in the other, when a figure comes shambling out of the trees. He breaks into a run, undeterred by the unfamiliar flash of red in the figure's eyes.

"Derek! Oh my /god/ why are your eyes red? No, never mind, not important. You're hurt. Where are you hurt? Do I need to get you to Deaton?"

Derek stumbles but Stiles' arms are strong around his waist. "No. Just need time," he manages to say.

"Ok. Ok. Let's - we'll get you home, I'll patch you up, then I'm gonna hug you forever, ok?"

"Forever?"

"For-ev-er," Stiles says, separating the syllables for emphasis.

Derek huffs out a breath of laughter. "Sounds good to me."

"Good. Let's get you home, big guy."

Getting home doesn't take long, a fact for which Stiles is eternally grateful because Derek really doesn't look great and he's filled with echoes of the time Derek nearly died in his Jeep because he'd been shot with a wolfsbane bullet. Back then, Derek dying in his car would have been an inconvenience. Now -

Well, now it would destroy him beyond all repair.

But it doesn't happen. Derek doesn't die in the Toyota. Or on the stairs. Or in the bathroom where he sits on the closed toilet while Stiles gently cleans and bandages each wound and tries not to make any jokes.

Instead, Derek makes one. "You should see the other guy."

"Bad, huh?"

"Alpha. I -" Derek gulps down his emotions, tries to swallow the words he doesn't want to say. "I killed him."

Stiles nods. "Kinda figured that when your eyes flashed red."

"You don't mind?"

"Mind? Why would I mind?"

"I killed someone."

"You did what you had to do."

"You don't know that."

Stiles smiles, his whiskey eyes lighting up. "Yeah, actually, yes, I do. Because I know /you/, Derek. I know that you only did what you had to do to survive."

Derek gulps down some more emotions. Namely, that Stiles has this seemingly unwavering trust in him. He isn't sure what he's ever done to deserve it.

"I do have one question, though," Stiles goes on. "Where the fuck have you been for four days?"

"Leading him away from the pack. I couldn't let him get close to any of you."

Stiles doesn't so much roll his eyes as he rolls his entire head. "You're a self sacrificing idiot, you know that? We could've taken down one alpha in less than an hour."

"It wasn't supposed to take me that long."

"You wanted the alpha power, didn't you?"

"No."

"Because you always wanted power and then you didn't, you stopped looking for it but...you never felt like you were enough, did you? You never felt like you were strong enough."

"Shut up."

"Fine but only because I know I'm right."

Derek sighs dramatically. "Fine," he echoes. "You're right. I have to keep you safe. You, Stiles. Not the pack, not the town, I'll leave that to Scott. But you. I have to protect you."

"I love you too, Sourwolf."

"Shut up." Derek's words carry less heat this time, and maybe a hint of amusement.

Stiles slaps the last dressing into place. "Ok, you're done. Now you're going to lie down, I'm going to bring you food and water, and then we're going to get on with the hugging forever part. Got it?"

"Got it," Derek says. He's smiling as he limps across the loft to their bed.

He's still smiling when Stiles shoves a bottle of water and a sandwich at him.

He smiles even more when Stiles wraps his arms around him.

The smile is still on his lips when he falls asleep like that.

And when he wakes up, still being hugged like he's a much loved childhood teddy bear.