#one moar

Even though Stiles still thought he was Derek Greenberg.

  It didn’t matter now – even if Derek told him the truth, Stiles would probably hate him more for the deception. He should just leave Stiles alone, and let things go back to the way they were, with Stiles hating him from a distance and inevitably leaving H.I. for someplace like the Hunter Corporation- and that thought was even worse than hearing about Stiles’ crush on the R&D girl.

  Derek loosened his death grip on the tumbler. He rubbed at his temples and tried to relax into the couch, but the cushions were too firm, some Swedish design someone at some agency had been overpaid to put in his flat. Nowhere near as comfortable as the cushy sofa his family had growing up, with its chocolate milk stains and cushions that he and Laura used to build blanket forts.

  Derek took out his phone and hit the first speed-dial.

  Ring. Ring. “Derkle!”

  Derek’s lip quirked. He hated the name growing up, but he heard it so rarely these days.

  “How’s the series coming along?”

  “Oh, it’s coming. I’m covered in paint as we speak, baby bro. You get the invite for my gallery opening?”

  “I booked my flight last week.”

  His sister made an approving sound. “So, what’s new with you?”

  I can’t stop thinking about one of our interns. “…Peter’s sending me to Beijing next month to meet with some clients.”

  “No, no. Peter making you do his dirty work isn’t news, Derek, that’s all he ever does-“

  Derek sighed. “Laura-“

  “All I’m saying is, you need to get away from H.I. once in awhile, Derek. Go out and meet people, find a new hobby-“

  Derek cringed. Last time Laura suggested he find a new hobby, she’d sent him a couple crates of painting supplies, he managed to mix a muddy brown color on the palette instead of sky blue, and the rest of the supplies had gone straight to the local community center.

  “-I knew it wasn’t for me, and you’re still young, Derek. I just don’t want you to end up like Peter,” Laura finished softly.

  …Peter lived at the office. When his uncle wasn’t at the office, he lived alone. Peter had more money than he knew what to do with, but there was nothing to do but make more. Peter didn’t have someone to tell him when he’d messed up and needed to stop, who made sure he ate healthy, who was smart as hell, whose giant eyes lit up whenever he saw him.

  “What if I already have? What if the only person who’s talked to me already hates me?” Derek muttered.

  “You tried to talk to someone and they said they hated you?” Laura asked incredulously.

  “No, he never - I’m the one who – he doesn’t know who I am-“

  “I’ll say. No one that knows anything about you could possibly hate you, you hear me? If this…if this guy really knew what you’re like and he still doesn’t like you? He’s not worth it.”

  “Yeah.”

  The line went quiet for a moment. “Derek, he’s not Kate. Don’t be afraid to let someone in again, okay?”

  Derek nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

  **

  Derek didn’t assign Stiles any more original projects. He let things go back to normal, trying to treat Stiles like any of the other interns even if it meant Stiles was still cursing him from another part of the building.

  At least this way, he couldn’t make things worse.

  It wasn’t until Erica opened his office door one day, stepping aside to let Allison in. “I’m sorry for the interruption, Mr. Hale, but Allison has something important she needs to discuss with you. Off the record.”

  Derek raised an eyebrow, dismissed Erica and turned in his chair to face Allison.

  “Mr. Hale, I’m not- I shouldn’t be here, but you know who my father is and what the Hunter Corporation does,” she began nervously. ”I work for H.I. because I don’t want to be a part of a company that produces weapons.”

  Derek nodded solemnly.

  “They don’t know that I heard them talking, but the Hunter execs have a lateral hiring plan for Hale Industries’ interns before they’re officially signed on here.”

  Derek’s eyes went wide. “Argent is planning on poaching our interns to work for them?”

  “It was my grandfather’s idea - they’ve discussed offering them higher starting salaries and more flexibility,” she said, eyes turned to the floor. “That’s all I know.”

  Derek tapped his pen on the desk. “Thank you for coming to me, Allison. I’ll discuss this with the rest of the board-”

  Allison looked up. “-And your name will never come up. I promise.”

  A look of relief passed over her face. “Thank you, Mr. Hale.”

  Derek nodded at her as she stepped back out, before buzzing Erica to arrange a board meeting.

  **

  If Derek rode the elevator up and down for nearly an hour that evening, well, nobody needed to know.

  When the doors opened and it was finally Stiles standing there, slurping loudly through a plastic straw, Derek let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding…and then promptly tensed back up, because he hadn’t planned beyond making sure Stiles still worked there.

  “D-man! How’s it hangin’, bro?...You look a little green.”

  The last hour might have left him a bit motion sick.

  Stiles stepped into his space. “Seriously, you okay? You look like you need to sit down, or eat some saltines, or I’ve got this blue slushie if that’ll help?” Stiles shook the cup at him. “Okay artificially colored syrup probably isn’t a good idea right now, but you should really pop a squat, come on now.” Stiles grabbed Derek’s elbow and manhandled him down to the floor, before settling in cross-legged next to him.

  “Better?” Stiles asked. Derek took a deep breath and nodded. The nausea was starting to subside.

  “So what is it – week-old potato salad? Bad fiscal quarter? You forget the covers on your TPS reports?”

  Derek turned and looked at Stiles. The kid looked better than he’d ever seen him, no dark circles around his eyes and his usual twitch subdued. Derek huffed at Stiles’ lips, tinted blue from nursing his drink.

  “You can’t let it get to you,” Stiles said. “Even if your boss rips you a new one for screwing up, y’know. This too shall pass and all that. I mean, look at me, I survived the Great Hale Storm of 2012 and kept my job! Whatever that guy’s throwing at you is nothing you can’t handle.”

  Ha, well, Derek Hale’s existence is definitely my greatest obstacle right now. But what Stiles thought of him didn’t matter anymore. All Derek wanted was to know if Stiles was happy with his job.

  “Do you like working here?” Derek asked tiredly.

  Stiles paused, his eyes widening in an expression of surprise, glancing down to Derek’s mouth. They lingered there, until Stiles shook his head and met Derek’s eyes with a sincere look.

  “Yes. Yeah. I mean, I get to play with robots and machines all day. How cool is that? And that project from hell that I told you about? Other than the deadline, that project was awesome. I got to design a light bulb that recycles its own thermal energy. Best job ever or best job ever? Plus, you won’t find better benefits anywhere on the west coast, and the holiday parties are the bomb. Insider tip: if you can sneak into Marketing’s holiday bash, their eggnog is more liquor than…nog.”

  As Stiles expounded on all of Hale Industries many merits, it felt more to Derek like Stiles was the one trying to convince him to stay at H.I. It made something in Derek’s chest clench to see Stiles gesticulating enthusiastically about everything from the prototype machines to the vending machines, his smile wide and uninhibited.

  The elevator dinged at the ground floor, and Stiles stopped abruptly to look straight at him.

  Derek averted his eyes, rolling forward onto his hands and knees to reach for his suitcase, when a choked off sound came from behind. Derek glanced over his shoulder to see Stiles staring back at him red-faced, before the intern scrambled up to his feet and slipped out of the elevator, clutching his bag in front of him.

  Derek stood and dusted off his pants. By the time he walked out to the street, Stiles and his bike were already long gone.

  Part IV.