Captain Finstock is furious. âGreat job, you bunch of morons! Got yourself into a hostage situation, almost got half of the team killed, and now we have to babysit a pack of FBI agents because you are so damn incompetent! And no, Hale, you do not get to opt out of this bullshit because a fed stole your beanie! In fact, Iâmma pair you up with him, what was his name, Bilinski? Yes, the doe-eyed one. How old is he anyway, do they hire kids right out of kindergarten now? God, I donât have enough booze to cover this shit. Could be better off coaching teenagers in a high school. Now, get out of my office!â What a way to start a Monday. ** âI didnât know a beanie and a hoodie are new FBI style,â Derek all but seethes. âSays a detective wearing his own initial on his belt.â Derek follows Stilinskiâs gaze to his crotch and blushes, âThatâs not ⊠thatâs not for âHaleâ, itâs for âHermesâ. âOh, an officer who knows couture? Iâm impressed!â And then the bastard winks. Derek mentally punches a wall. ** In theory, having a team of FBI agents helping you with a case can be a good thing, because, well, they have more resources, and a much larger database, and cooler toys. On practice though, it is a giant pain in the ass, mainly because Derek hates his new partner. Well, no, Derek doesnât hate him, itâs Derekâs balls that hate him. The brat (what kind of a name is Stiles Stilinski anyway?) is not just cute and smart and knows how to make killer lattes, he is also obnoxious and flirts with Derek all the time, and has an obscene mouth and fingers Derek canât even look at, because those long dexterous fingers do things to Derek, and at this point Derekâs balls are not just blue, they are pitch black and about to fall off. Derek might have ripped several bedsheets with his erection and may or may not have considered billing Stilinski for them. He decides against it, and instead chooses to channel his frustration into anger and into being a dick. That doesnât help. In fact, it just makes things worse. The more frustrated and angry Derek gets, the flirtier Stiles becomes. Itâs ridiculous, like trying to put out a fire by throwing gasoline at it. Finally, frustration boils over and Derek all but slams the younger man into a wall while no oneâs looking. He gets into Stilesâs face, pointing an accusational finger at him like a gun, and tells him all he thinks about flowers, handcuff hearts, chocolates, winks, air kisses and all other crap Stilinski has been pulling on him since day one. He has enough, he doesnât like it, he doesnât want it, and ⊠Derek is surprised to see how hurt Stiles looks. He expects anything from a sucker punch to a fist to his face, but Stiles just whispers liar and leaves. Derek wouldâve preferred a sucker punch. ** Iâm such an idiot! Derek cusses himself while camaro slithers through empty streets. What a shitty detective is he if he canât recognize a genuine crush over a prank? Worse even, Stiles is right- he is a liar. He should be sucking Stiles off right now instead of going back to an empty loft. His self-loathing is cut short by a truck ramming into his side. ** Derek loses track of time after about a week. After all, it is hard to tell day from night when you are lying semi-conscious in a windowless basement. Well, if it is how Derek goes out, so be it, he canât cheat death forever. He wishes he could cheat it long enough to tell Stiles he likes him though. May be even loves him. But, with Hale luck âą , he likely wonât even have a chance to say good bye. He hears his captors chatting near the cell, clanking tools. Oh, another round of torture, how terrific. And then something goes wrong, there are screams and shouting and gunfire and the cell door busts open and itâs actually Stiles, his Stiles, hair disheveled, with stubble and dark circles under his eyes, and he looks livid. Derek tries to scream, to warn Stiles one of the terrorists is launching at him from behind but Stiles just grabs the man and breaks his neck without even looking because his eyes never leave Derekâs face. Derek would probably coming all over himself now if not for the extensive blood loss. ** Stiles drags him out through fire and dead bodies and drops him into an ambulance before Derek gets a chance to say thank you. ** When Derek comes back, things are different. Stiles is still friendly and cooperative but now he is, for a lack of a better word, professional. No winks, no kissy faces, no more trying to sit on Derekâs lap â only business. Basically, this is everything Derek had asked for. And Derek wants to scream. When Captain Finstock calls him to his office and tells him, âI donât know what the hell you did, Hale, but you better fix it soon, because your lovers spat is freaking me outâ, Derek realizes how royally he screwed up. ** It takes a mind of a genius and a healthy dose of gay juju to properly apologize to Stiles, and Derek now owes a case of champagne to Dr. Martin and a new Prada wallet to Danny from cyber crime, but sleepy warm Stiles is cuddling him in his bed, so all of that was totally worth it. Stiles nuzzles Derekâs neck and mumbles, âI can hear you thinking.â Derek smiles, kisses him and goes back to sleep.
