Human is Just a Word 16/?
Chapter 16
The meeting was a disaster. Not even the food was good.
In hindsight Derek should have taken the wilting appetizer salad and the beyond well done steak as an omen and leave fifteen minutes ago. Instead he was sitting here, wasting his time with this idiot.
Derek worked for a few magazines and journals but a lot of his work was freelancing and this had sounded solid when he'd spoken with the guy on the phone the other day.
"It's not that you wrote the book." The man, Steve or Stan, he wasn't sure and didn't really care at this point.
"Translation is more than just translating something word by word, especially when it comes to scientific publications. You may get away with some artistic creativity in fiction, which I'd call lazy to be honest, but not when it comes to science." Derek glared at him but the guy was clearly not getting it. "You don't fuck with science." He quoted Stiles but even the blunt words didn't get through that guy's thick skull.
"You're just greedy." He threw his napkin on his half-eaten plate. It reminded Derek of a toddler with a tantrum. "You take one sentence and translate it to English, then you take the next one. I don't see why you want this amount of money for a simple translation. And four months? Who's lazy now? I could do this myself over the weekend."
"I'd suggest you do exactly that, then." Derek stood up, he was done here. He did, however, threw a few bills on the table because his host most likely would forget the tipping part of the bill.
Without another word Derek left. He had been looking forward to a nice meal, hashing out the deal over it and if the guy loved his work enough to not shut up about it, Derek would have liked to hear him talk because that would make Derek's work much easier.
But not like this. The guy was an idiot.
That's why Derek was home earlier than intended and in a bad mood.
He smelled it the second he stepped into the loft but it was so faint that he couldn't identify it immediately but it was a lingering thing in the back of his mind. Not bad, though. It made him think of Stiles.
Stiles was in his room, probably sleeping, so Derek was alone with his bad mood, no Stiles to distract him with his constant babbling. He did tell him to shut up once in a while but Derek really liked his chatter. It filled the silence. Not that he ever intended to tell Stiles that.
It wasn't that late in the evening and Derek was still too angry to think about sleep any time soon so he got the coffee maker going and then went upstairs to get out of his dress shirt and pants. It wasn't what he felt comfortable with but it never hurt to dress up when he met with a potential client.
Coming up the stairs the smell got stronger. Now he recognized it.
Stiles had jacked off in the shower before, Derek had caught a lingering trace of his scent once or twice, and he had tried to ignore it. That he had done the same with the memory of Stiles' body against his, he really didn't want to think about. Stiles was seventeen and not here by choice.
Derek hadn't heard anything indicating it but he wouldn't be surprised if Stiles woke up at night soaked in cold sweat, haunted by the memory of that night. Derek was the last person Stiles would want to get intimate with, that was for sure. He was just happy that Stiles could still enjoy sex.
However, the scent that hit him when he passed Stiles' door was more than a lingering trace. It was musky and rich and most definitely fresh.
Derek braced himself with both hands at the door frame, face only inches from the door and breathed in deeply.
Stiles wasn't just sleeping, this was the satisfied sleep after a good orgasm.
Derek took another breath, picturing Stiles lying on his bed, naked with drying sweat and come all over his body.
His forehead hit the door with a soft thud. He was so screwed. His claws dug into the wood of the frame while his rock hard cock was straining against the zipper of his silly pants. He wanted to burst in and wake Stiles up for a second round. Or at least jack off right here at Stiles' door with his scent strong in his nose. Instead Derek walked stiffly over to his own room where he ripped off his pants and threw himself on his bed.
He didn't have time for lube or finesse, it was just a rough tugging and pulling and within a few almost painful strokes he spilled his release all over his fist and dress shirt. He didn't like that stupid shirt anyway.
Then he lay there, half-naked with his arm over his face while he waited to come down from his high. When his breathing had evened out, he stayed like that for a while longer.
"Fuck."
By the time Stiles woke up, Derek was downstairs again, had his coffee and was hoping that his traitorous thoughts wouldn't show on his face.
The rapid spike in Stiles' heart-beat told him the exact moment when Stiles realized that he wasn't alone any longer. Stiles opened the window but it took him a few minutes before he dared to leave his room.
When Stiles finally came downstairs, acting like nothing had happened, Derek didn't comment on the shower or the scent still heavy in the air, too busy hiding what that smell did to him.
When Stiles suggested pizza and a movie, Derek agreed which in his current state probably was a bad idea but in the end the evening wasn't that bad.
Derek had told Stiles about the disaster of a meeting, mentioning the overcooked steak, and a few days later Stiles made a point of making him the perfect steak.
"This is good." Derek said around the first bite. It really was, more on the rare side with the juices coming out when he cut it.
"I know you like yours bloody, Mr Big Bad Alpha Werewolf." Stiles said but there was some of his enthusiasm missing. He was pushing the carrots he had insisted on going with the steak around on his plate. Thinking about it, this dinner felt like Stiles was buttering him up for something.
"What?" Derek asked, lifting his head only enough to raise his eyebrows at Stiles before he dug back in. Bribe or not, this steak was really good.
"My dad." Stiles said and put his fork down with a sigh. "He wants to visit me. This weekend."
Derek swallowed which gave him a moment to study Stiles. Over the last week he had dropped most of his scared behavior, he didn't expect Derek to jump him any second anymore, but now it was back again. Stiles ducked his head, fiddled around with his napkin and was waiting for the rejection.
"I told him it's too soon." He continued, when Derek didn't answer quick enough. "I told him that I'm fine, that he doesn't have to worry about me. But he wants to come."
"Isaac has a guest room." Derek finally spoke.
"What?" Stiles gaped at him.
"Your dad needs to stay somewhere." Derek put a bit of carrot in his mouth. Those weren't half-bad either. "Isaac has a guest room."
"Wait a second." Stiles pointed with the knife at him. "You're okay with that? My dad coming here?"
"He's your dad." Derek pointed out. "He wants to make sure that you're fine. That I'm treating you right." He thought about the things he'd heard about Peter, the bits and pieces Stiles had revealed about him.
"And you want him to stay with Isaac?" Stiles asked as if he still wasn't sure if he had heard right. "You haven't even asked Isaac. My dad can stay at a hotel, a hotel is perfectly fine. No need to bother Isaac. Or you. He won't be a bother, I swear. You'll barely notice that he's here."
"Stiles, shut up." Derek cut in. "He can stay with us, with the pack, that way he'll see for himself."
Stiles stared at him as if he was trying to figure something out but then a wide grin spread over his face.
With that it was settled.
Of course Derek had to ask Isaac first but as expected the beta agreed immediately.
"If we don't get along, I'll just put on the fur and sleep in the den." Isaac shrugged, knowing full well that he wouldn't sleep there alone. Nobody ever slept alone in the den. It would just end in another pack night, not that Derek had anything against that.
Stiles' dad would arrive Friday evening and the days leading to that, Stiles was even more antsy than usual. He worried about every little detail, planned out the meals he wanted to cook, beside the fact that Derek was pretty sure that at least once they would go out or order something in, and he constantly had his phone out to shoot his dad messages to remind him to bring this or that.
The sheriff also would bring Stiles' car. That was another thing Stiles hadn't been sure about. Was he allowed to have his own car? He hadn't downright asked but the way he said that his dad would bring it told Derek more than words that Stiles wasn't sure.
There was a lot Stiles wasn't sure about living with a pack but the only thing Derek could do was to patiently show him that his fears were unfounded.
His dad would also bring more of his things so that Stiles would feel more at home here. At least Derek hoped that one day Stiles would think of this place as his. At the moment he only referred to it as Derek's place.
On Friday Stiles was up early, too keyed up to sleep any longer. He joined Derek in the kitchen where Derek tried to get some work done before their guest arrived. He wouldn't have time for that over the weekend and some of these things had deadlines. Not that the clients without a deadline liked to wait either.
However, with Stiles cluttering around in the kitchen it was impossible for Derek to focus on his work. Stiles was always so loud. How could somebody be this loud? But today it was even worse than usual.
Derek hadn't realized how much Stiles missed his father. Over the last few days he had gotten an idea but what he saw now was a child waiting for Santa. It was adorable, if he was honest.
Derek threw him a glance he hoped translated to "I'm trying to work here." but it was completely lost on Stiles. Even in the beginning it had never really worked. Sure, Stiles had been afraid of him, sometimes still was, but he had never backed down, not really.
By noon Stiles was bouncing off the walls and around four in the afternoon Derek was ready to bite his head off.
"Have you checked the room?" Derek asked, already knowing the answer to that question. Stiles had checked Isaac's guest room once yesterday and two times today and maybe once more when Derek hadn't been looking.
"Yeah." Stiles made, already glancing at the door. "We put fresh sheets on and aired the room."
They had done more than that. Isaac didn't have guests very often, or at all, so he usually used the extra room as his study slash storage room. He and Stiles had spent half a day with digging the bed out from under Isaac's college stuff, sketchbooks and clothes he had forgotten he owned.
"But I think I'll check real quick." Stiles said as expected. "Just to make sure that the window's closed and I think we forgot to dust under the bed."
Derek watched him leave before he let the smile spread over his face.
Let Isaac deal with Stiles for a moment.
Chapter 17
Masterpost