#deanspiee

“Oh yeah? Who’re you gonna see?”

“My boss.” Derek already wanted to disappear, just so he could avoid this conversation.

“Ah, lucky guy.”

“What?”

“What?”

Derek turned, brows lowered, and he looked at the guy, who was now shaking his head.

“Pft, I didn’t say anything. Nothing inappropriately unprofessional or anything.”

“Right, ‘course not.”

They both fell silent for a beat or two, because apparently this guy could not shut up.

“So, what do y-”

“You know, I would really appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me.” Derek turned back, gave the guy a sharp look and then turned back to stare at the doors. Seriously, how long could it take for an elevator to reach the top floor?

“Okaay, sourpuss,” he heard the guy mumble.

And then finally, there was a ding and the doors slid open.

The guy stormed out first and of course, headed the same way Derek was supposed to go.

“Morning, Lydia,” he nodded at the red headed lady behind the desk to Derek’s boss’ office. Derek had decided to stay a few steps behind, just so he wouldn’t look like he was following the guy.

“Good morning, Stiles. Scott called again.”

“Allison still didn’t call him?” The guy - Stiles, apparently, and what the hell kind of name was that even? - reached over and grabbed one of the buns on this Lydia’s desk.

“Not even a text. Please call him after your first meeting. I’m really tired of their drama and I’d really love to actually go out with Jackson without being interrupted by Allison complaining for once.”

Stiles sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll take him out for a bro night so you can go bang your boyfriend.” He stuffed his face with the bun and headed towards the office at the end of the hall, before he turned and looked back at Lydia. “By the way, who was my first meeting again?”

“Derek Hale.”

Shit.

Shit x 1000. No way in fucking hell.

Stiles moved his gaze to Derek, sending him a knowing look, then turned and went into the office.

Derek stood frozen for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh and headed towards Lydia.

“Derek Hale, here to see Stilinski.”

Lydia gave him a quick look up and down, hand on her hip and a brow raised. “You were on that elevator with him, weren’t you?”

“I was. Don’t ask more questions. Just let me in so I can get fired.”

Lydia did and Derek walked in, closed the door and stopped walking in front of Stiles’ desk where he was sitting, watching him carefully and eating the rest of his bun.

“Take a seat, mr. Hale.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna be necessary, boss. Just get it over with.”

“Wow, you’re still so rude and grumpy. Did someone piss on your breakfast or are you just always like this?”

Derek sighed silent, shaking his head. “Just not a good day.” That was a lie. According to not only Erica but pretty much all his friends, he was always grumpy and rude.

“Nah, I can see that.” Stiles paused for a beat, finishing the bun. “Take a seat, Derek, I’m not gonna fire you.”

Confused, Derek did as he was told. “Why not?”

“Because people are rude to me all the time and I don’t want my employees to treat me differently just because I’m your boss.”

Derek had nothing to say but apparently, Stiles was nowhere near done. “But, Derek, you’re gonna have to make it up to me.” There was something about the grin on Stiles’ face that Derek wasn’t sure whether he should dislike or want to see more of - in different situations.

Never breaking eye contact, he asked; “How can I make it up to you, boss?”

Stiles seemed to chew on it for maybe half a second. “Dinner, 6 PM. Be late and I’ll give make you pay for it.”

Derek wasn’t late. Dinner was nice. Stiles spend the night in Derek’s bed. Clothes gone somewhere along the way.

Derek quit his job a couple of weeks later so they didn’t have to be secret about their growing relationship.

Soon, Derek’s jaw dropped and he jumped forward, teeth ready to dig into his flesh and rip him apart.

Stiles woke up panting, gasping for air. His one hand went flying to his chest, feeling his heart beat fast against his palm. If he was smart, he would have stayed in bed and just fallen back asleep because there was still that thing called school the next day filled with more werewolf crap and supernatural nonsense and actual school stuff. But when was Stiles Stilinski ever smart? Answer; 1 out of 10 times or so.

He hadn’t even gotten over his freak out before he was pulling on his hoodie, running (because sneaking wasn’t an option at this point and his dad had the night shift anyway) out of the front door and jumping into his jeep. He would have gone to Scott. Hell, he probably should have gone to Scott. But he didn’t. He was speeding through the forest in the middle of the freaking night, freaking out and heading to the burned down Hale house.

“Derek!” He was yelling Derek’s name the second he leaped out of the jeep, letting the door stay open because he wasn’t thinking clear at the moment. “Derek!” He slammed the door open, took two steps inside and stopped at the sight of a flash of red eyes from the top of the stairs.

“Stiles,” came the calm voice belonging to Derek as he took step by step down the stairs, towards the still panting high schooler. “It’s 3 am.” He paused in the middle of taking a step, his brows furrowing as he listened to the sound of Stiles’ hammering heart. “What is it?”

“I had…” Stiles swallowed, taking half a step forward. “I had… you were…” He was starting to feel slightly ridiculous now that he had calmed down after practically sprinting over here, just to see if it really all was a nightmare. Which is was. Derek was perfectly human. Well, perfectly werewolf-y, but without the werewolf out at the moment.

He swallowed thickly one last time. “I had a dream.” Derek was already rolling his eyes and even his eyebrows looked like they were totally done before it even started. But Stiles wasn’t finished. “No, hear me out, sourwolf. You were… you were a freaking wolf. And not the werewolf-y shit you usually are but an honest to God fucking wolf with teeth and the whole shebang!” He let out a heavy breath when he stopped talking, his heart hammering again by the flashing images in his head, the images of the wolf snarling in front of him and pounced at him, teeth first.

He only stopped because Derek was laughing.

Actually laughing.

Until he listened to Stiles’ hammering heart and saw the hurt and fear on his flushed face. Slowly, Derek stopped laughing, his brows furrowing and he took a step closer to the other. “You’re not kidding?”

“No, I’m not kidding, asshole!”

Stiles was about to continue yelling at Derek for being an asshole, but he was interrupted when he felt arms moving around him, pulling him flush against Derek’s chest. He was surprised and speechless for a whole of three seconds before he clung to Derek, still shaking but now slightly less with Derek holding him.

“You’re still an asshole,” Stiles murmured after a while, his cheek pressed to Derek’s shoulder