A Drop Of Ink In Water

XI

Stiles checks his watch for the sixth time. Hale is late. Nine minutes late exactly. He paces, running a nervous hand in his short hair, then sits abruptly in a dramatic sigh.

He hates waiting. Always had.

He's forehead is sweaty, he's hot, his throat feels desert dry and his legs are shaking uncontrollably under his desk. During the last hour he drank so much water, he feels like he's going to explode. But once again, he grabs a bottle of water and takes a large mouthful. It seems like the only remedy to his state. When the cold water fills his mouth and run down his throat, he feels at peace again. His mind stops its frenzy working, focusing on the soothing sensations. Sadly, it only last a few seconds.

He puts it back on the desk with another loud sigh. What the fuck is Hale doing, he thinks biting a nail. Is he going to come or not? He started to consider the possibility that the man might not come. Another glance at his watch indicates him that a new minute has passed. Did Derek change his mind? His stomach twinges at the thought. What if Derek decided he wasn't worth the trouble? He still didn't understand how someone like Derek could have been interested in him in the first place. Why bother with someone as plain as Stiles when he could have anyone he wanted without spending a penny.

Maybe, it wouldn't be such a bad thing if he didn't come. Maybe Stiles did rush all of this. To be honest he had been flattered by Derek's sudden interest in him. He had never been the object of such attention before and even less coming from someone that looked like Derek. So, even if the werewolf was a little creepy, he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride from spreading in his chest. Maybe that was the problem, maybe pride was blinding his judgment. Maybe he was doing something completely stupid and unreasonable.

He scratches the back of his neck, eyes landing on the bottom drawer of his desk. He bends down, opens it, and takes a light file out of it. Three stapled pages he spent a whole day working on. He flips the file open and slowly reads the first words. No. He was sure about this. So that certainly wasn't the best decision he ever made and he shouldn't probably mix with Hale. The right choice would be to ignore the iron hot glare on his back and keep leaving his life until Derek got bored. But of course, that wasn't what he was going to do. His father needed the money, Scott had to be looked after and he was a curious person, always putting his nose or his foot where he obviously shouldn't.

Stiles puts the file down on his desk. Hale better hurry or he will have to go find him himself.

He leaves his chair, standing up to walk to the bathroom. He shouldn't have drunk so much water. A few minutes later, he's washing his hands, inspecting his reflection in the mirror. He checks his hair, his teeth. He looks the same as always not good, but not bad either. This should do it. He dries his hand with a towel, eyes still fixed on his double in the glass, daring the other to question his choice. He gently puts the towel on the side of the sink and leans on it, hands clenching the washbasin till the tips of his fingers go white.

"It's going to be okay." He says looking at himself right in the eyes. "I'm gonna be okay." He takes a deep breath. Then, he hears a noise. Not loud, so light he normally wouldn't have heard it, werewolf like.

"He's here." He thinks, heart racing at the thought. He tries his best not to lock the bathroom door and never go out. The werewolf would find him anyway. He forces himself to be calm as he gets out of the room, tries to make his steps calm and tries to ease his heart as well. Inspire, expire. "I'm okay."

"Did you never learn how to use bells?" Stiles asks, closing the office's door behind him.

Derek is sitting on his desk, cross-legged, a smug air on his face. His worn leather jacket loosely hangs on his shoulders. He shrugs.

"They make noise." He says, not moving from his sit.

The younger snorts, shakes his head with disbelief.

"Well, that's the point." Stiles declares. He walks to the desk, stopping in front of the other man, just close enough Derek has to raise is his chin to meet his eyes but far enough not to be at arm reach. Derek must not enjoy the position because he rises, standing up on his two feet. They do not shake hands or anything. Derek stands still, gauging at him. Stiles doesn't look away, staring like it's some contest he absolutely needs to win. Then Derek he turns his head, looking around like he's never been here before and Stiles feels strangely victorious.

"Nobody is there?" Derek asks.

Stiles tilts his head on the side. He's pretty sure Derek already knows the answer to that question. Was he trying to test him, see if he could trust him or was he just attempting and failing at making conversation ?

"I think Greenberg is still there somewhere but you already knew that, didn't you?" Stiles says after a moment, and then continues before Derek lack of answer. "He won't bother us."

Derek nods and sits in the same chair he occupied seconds ago. Stiles does the same. He's not completely settled when Derek takes the file he left on the desk. He stills but then realizes Derek is the one he did all of this for, so he would read it at some point.

"What is that?" Derek asks flipping the pages. He raises an eyebrow. "Is that a contract?"

"Yes." Stiles answers, sitting in the chair. He rests his back on the soft material. He's not completely calm yet but he's getting better. Thankfully, Derek didn't make any comment. "You should read it." He adds.

Derek raises his eyebrows, then drops his eyes on the pages.

Stiles observes him read with a quiet satisfaction. Several expressions passes through Derek's face, slowly going from surprise to scandalized. He even lets out a chocked noise.

"What the fuck?" He finally says when he's done reading. "I've never heard of contracts like that."

Stiles form a fine line and his hands tightly pressed together under the table, on his lap.

"Actually, we always make clients sign contract. This one is just more… elaborated." He says. "Take it or leave it."

Derek makes a face. Are you fucking serious? It screams.

"No meeting outside? Why?" Derek asks, tone a little harsh as his eyes lay back on the file, looking incredulously at the pages. "Isn't what escort are supposed do? Accompany people to places. Outside." He adds frowning.

Stiles sighs.

"I don't really have to justify myself but I will make you a favor." He ignores the huff Derek lets out. "Primo, my dad was… he's a cop. So, if I go around with you he'll suspect something right away. You don't look like my usual company if you know what I mean." Derek raises his eyebrows. His face clearly saying, No I don't. Stiles shrugs it off with a wave of the hand. "Segundo, I don't want anyone else to know. Especially Scott. So, it'd be nice if you could shut your mouth about it since you guys became best buddies and all." He snubs the werewolf's eye roll. "No going out outside, period."

"You said anyone else. Who's that?" Derek asks in a sigh.

"Oh, it's Danny." He says, then continues when he notice Derek's expression. "Danny? The barman?"

The wolf slowly nods, recalling the boy's face.

"What can I do exactly? You're like forbidding everything in this. No inappropriate talking, No inappropriate questioning, no inappropriate touching…" He recites, tapping a finger at each prohibition.

It's Stiles' turn to roll his eyes.

"You're exaggerating. It's not forbidden. It just says that you can't force me into anything. Basically, you can do everything that I want."

"Which means nothing." Derek retorts and it seems to Stiles that he's pouting.

"Stop acting like a kid."

"I'm acting like a kid?" The man repeats with a face. "Do I have to remind you that I'm paying a lot of money for this?"

Stiles raises his chin, clearly indicating that there won't be any change of mind. Derek sighs loudly.

"So, what can I do?" He asks after a brief pause.

"I don't know you – "

"Can I kiss you?" Derek interrupts him.

Stiles sucks a breath, heart jumping up in his throat.

"…Yes." He says.

Derek looks surprised by the answer. And for a moment he looks like he's going to jump on the desk and put his tongue in Stiles' mouth. Eventually, the moment passes when he notices Stiles' uncomfortable shift.

"Can I touch you?" He continues anyway.

Stiles clears his throat, changes his position again.

"It depends." He says.

"Of what?" Derek deadpans.

Stiles opens his mouth, then closes it loudly. "Hum, of circumstances? Body parts?"

The werewolf has a disdainful pout.

"Sex?"

"Don't push it."

Derek stays silent for a long minute, thoughtful. And Stiles looks at him, intently waiting for his answer. After a moment he can't wait anymore. "So..?" He questions.

"I'm not paying triple for that." Derek simply responds, and Stiles can't help a contented, smug smile to spread on his face. He tries to hide it but fails miserably. Derek raises an amused eyebrow.

"Double is fine." Stiles says. It takes a blue pen from and holds it out to Derek.

"Wait," Derek says, interrupting his movement, "I want to try something first."

He rises from his sit, walks round the desk and stops next to Stiles. He grabs one of Stiles' armchairs and moves it so he and Stiles are face to face. Still holding the armchair, he bends, his face now inches from Stiles'. Stiles doesn't move, heart thumping loudly against his ribcage. He waits, closes his eyes, as he sees Derek's face come closer and closer. Then lips are pressed against his. Derek's mouth is dry and firm but gentle. They share just one, light kiss and Derek separates their mouths. When Stiles opens his eyes he finds the werewolf looking at him, hot breathes burning his skin. He looks like his waiting for an invitation, an approval. Stiles' eyes drop unconsciously on the other man's mouth, lips tingly from Derek's touch, throat is too tight to speak.

He's about to tell Derek that he can go on, but Derek with all his werewolf senses, must have read his thoughts because he takes his lips between his again. He nips at his lower lip, making Stiles open mouth with a pleasured sigh. He lets Derek taste his tongue, the inside of his cheeks, feels menthol and sour chocolate tickle his palate. He can feel his face burning hot. The kiss deepens. He doesn't know what to do with his hands at first, fist hanging awkwardly in the air. Then, he relaxes, decides to enjoy this as much as he can and to make Derek enjoy it too. So he grabs Derek's face between his palms and enjoys the sensation of the dry stubble against the tip of his fingers. The werewolf seems pleased by the enthusiasm and lets out a low growl. He kisses him like he wants to devour him. And Stiles wants more, he wants to get closer, deluded by the electricity running through his body and the flow of sensation in his stomach. He can feel his pants tightening around his cock. He moans again. It's feels good, so good he feels dizzy. It's suffocating. Nothing like any kiss he's had before. And just like that Derek is off him. He's just as out of breath as he his and he doesn't even try to hide his obvious erection. Stiles is still trying to regain his thought when Derek says, "So, that pen…"

Stiles looks at his empty hands.

The pen is on the floor.

"So, how is work going", the Sheriff asks shoving a fork full of pasta in his mouth.

Stiles stiffens like every time the subject is brought up. He never told his father about his job. Always stayed evasive, saying he managed a team of workers, never specified what kind of workers they were. He doesn't feel ready, yet. Having his dad looking down on him would be too hard. He knows his dad is open minded and would still love him anyway but he doesn't want to take the risk. He feels even more tensed since he concluded the thing with Derek just hours ago.

"Oh, you know. As usual. Okay. A bit boring, though," he answers unable to hide his discomfort. He stumbles on his words, unable to control his mouth.

His father doesn't seem to notice the lie, nose in his plate. He loves pasta nights.

"Mmmh," he grumbles in agreement.

He swallows a mouthful and grabs a napkin, wiping his mouth clean.

"You know, I might have found a job," he announces after a moment. His tone is light maybe a little too much.

"Yeah," Stiles says anyway. He knows his dad is still not over the fact that he lost his Sheriff place, that he still has hope. And that he's probably only thinking about finding another job to reassure his son.

"Hun, unh. A man offered me to work a night security job, since he knew about..."

"Yeah. Great. It seems cool, dad," Stiles declares trying to show as much enthusiasm as he could possibly can. His throat is tight we he speaks. He can't believe this is what his father is reduced now. This is tough on his father, the least he can do is support him.

Jackson is pale looking. He doesn't look sick or like he didn't have a good night of sleep, there is something strange in his eyes, in the way he moves and how sometimes his gaze fall on an invisible point far away and he looks in the distance, a small smile crinkling his lips like he knows a secret nobody else does.

Danny notices the change, too. He tries to talk to Jackson, asks him is everything is okay. But the man, waves him with a gesture of the hand, answering an "I'm fine," that is all but reassuring.

Danny and Stiles exchange a look.

Something tells him that Peter isn't innocent in that matter. Jackson still has a week to spend with the werewolf. Stiles will have to ask Derek about it.

"I can't help you. For all I know, the only thing they do is fucking and nothing else," Derek answers when he questions him the day after.

They're in Stiles' office where they agreed to spend most of their meetings. Stiles doesn't let him the time to sit and starts to ask his questions as he enters the room.

"You sure? You have to tell me if something is going on. Jackson may be an ass but I won't let him -"

"I don't know," Derek interrupts a little strongly. Apparently, he doesn't appreciate to be interrogated as a hello, "I haven't seen my uncle in a few days anyway."

Stiles nods to himself, he still isn't done. But Derek seems sincere. Maybe, it has nothing to do with Peter after all.

"You would tell me if you knew anything, right?"

Derek shakes his head.

"I know you don't really like Peter and he's no angel but he's not a bad person," he says with a face. Then his expression changes. "So, are we done here?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Good."

He places a hand in Stiles back and presses him against his body without a warning. Derek puts lips on his, kissing him almost tenderly, callused hand caressing his flushed cheek.

"Hi." He says when he removes his mouth from Stiles'.

"H-hi." Stiles' heart is beating fast. It's even more embarrassing that he knows the werewolf is well aware of his inner torment.

Derek seems to be done talking. He kisses him again, this time deeply. His tongue slices into his mouth as his hands travels on his back, wrecking his flannel shirt. Stiles decides to stop thinking and circles his arms around his neck, enjoying the heat of Derek against his own. He doesn't resist when Derek slowly guides him to the desk, hands not leaving his body, sliding under his clothes and feeling the hot skin of his back. Stiles ends up sited on the desk, Derek between his legs, kissing him like a hungry man. Stiles can feel his erection growing in his pants and Derek's hard one against his thigh. He takes off Derek's leather jacket, getting a feel of the hard muscles underneath. And damn, that's some hot bod Derek got here!

Derek lips leave his mouth to travel down his neck, Stiles moans. He can't believe thing went there this fast. One day, he's hating psycho Derek wishing he would just get the fuck out of his work place and the other day, he's there all hot and needy under Derek's agile fingers and mouth. Derek is definitely weird. Nothing like Stiles expected he would be. He thought Derek would be rough, aggressive and that he would not care about his feelings at all. But it's exactly the opposite. He feels Derek's palm grab his ass and tries to hold back a moan. He bites his lips, noticing he's been humping Derek for a while now. He's rock hard and so is Derek.

Derek stops his assault, and when he looks at him his eyes are gentle.

All of this seems okay, Stiles' account full of Derek's money and them making out on his desk after Derek sneaked out not to be seen by anyone when he entered the agency, almost natural.

And that is definitely not okay.

TBC

Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I can't believe it's already been 3 months! I have been very busy these last few months but it's all settled and I should be able to update more regularly. Anyway, I wish you a Happy New Year with a little advance! I hope you will accomplish every that you want and that you will keep following this story till the end!

Thanks again to all the reviewers who warmed my hearts with their little (or longer) notes in this cold weather! You really keep me going.

See you !