Gambling Debts 5/?
Chapter 5
Isaac was waiting for them at the car. Turned out that he was head of security and as that also Stiles' personal bodyguard slash driver. And since today he wasn't collecting werewolves to pay their uncle's debts, Isaac would be the one driving. He was leaning nonchalantly at the car but straightened up and buttoned his jacket when Stiles and Derek stepped out of the elevator.
Stiles had put on some actual pants and a nice shirt for this trip and once again Derek was painfully aware of his clothes. Not that he didn't care for them but they had been well worn before he'd bought them and they were still in need of laundering. But as Stiles had explained, they were about to fix that. Not the laundry part, though.
"Morning." Isaac greeted them but the look he gave his employer was cold. However, it warmed up when his eyes fell on Derek. He held the door open for them and Stiles slipped in the backseat as if he didn't notice the cold shoulder he was getting from Isaac.
When Derek tried to get in the car as well, Isaac stopped him with a pointed look.
"Are you okay?" He whispered but Derek had no doubt that Stiles could hear him even with his human ears.
"I'm fine." Derek answered and hoped that his tone made it clear that it was true. This was a crazy roller coaster ride but he was fine.
Isaac studied him for a moment longer as if he needed to make sure of that himself. Derek had no idea what he was looking for. Even if Stiles had beaten him half to death last night, by now even broken bones would have been healed.
"Scott gave you my number?" He whispered in an even lower voice. When Derek nodded to that, a sad smile formed on Isaac's lips. "Whenever you need me." He said and Derek could hear in his heart-beat that he meant it.
Derek ducked in the car and Isaac closed the door behind him.
"He's a good guy." Stiles said while Isaac couldn't hear them. "He wants to kick my ass for what I did to you."
"You're his boss."
"We've known each other before I became his boss." Stiles shifted in his seat. "That's the only reason he hasn't kicked my ass so far. This whole thing kind of hits a bit close to home for him."
Derek would have liked to ask more but Isaac opened the driver's door and with that the conversation was over.
They drove mostly in silence.
This was a part of Vegas Derek hadn't been to that often, most of the time he had been looking for his wayward uncle, but at this time of the day everything looked even more surreal than at night.
Twenty minutes later Isaac parked the car in front of a building with the the bold letters "Lydia Martin" above the entrance.
"Lyds is Lydia Martin?" Derek asked, a little too shocked to get out of the car just yet. Lydia Martin was the fashion designer in Vegas. Even Derek who wasn't interested in fashion and couldn't dream of owning even a sock with her name on it, knew that label. It was up there with Prada and all those other fancy names he didn't bother to remember. If you wore Lydia Martin, you were somebody.
"She's an old friend." Stiles shrugged while Derek rubbed his palms on his ratty jeans. He was about to die from embarrassment.
"And she's waiting for us." Stiles added when Derek didn't show any intention to leave the car. Isaac who was holding the door open for them just grinned.
Here goes nothing, Derek steeled himself and got out of the car.
Isaac stayed behind and Derek would have loved to wait with him but Stiles was dragging him forward. On his sleeve if necessary, Derek got that and hurried to keep up with him.
"Stiles." The woman coming towards them greeted him. They hugged and it wasn't air-hugging with kisses left and right like Derek would have expected. They hugged like old friends and that put Derek a bit at ease. If somebody was friends with Stiles for real they couldn't be a stickler to rules and conventions, that much Derek had learned over the last day.
"You must be Derek." She turned to him with a calculating eye. Derek did his best to keep his stoic posture and not squirm under her gaze. "I'm Lydia."
"Nice to meet you." He answered politely, ignoring the fact that she was undressing him with her eyes.
"So, Stiles, what do you need?" Her gaze was still raking up and down his body.
"A complete wardrobe." Stiles answered. "We'll start with one tailored suit but no hurry with that, for the rest, just show us what you got. However, he needs to leave here in something that makes him look like the personal assistant he is."
"That shouldn't be a problem." She nodded and gave Derek a reassuring smile. "With a face like that? He'll look gorgeous. Where did you find him, anyway?"
"Won him at a poker game." Stiles replied easily and from his tone it wasn't clear if he was joking or not. Derek had to admit it was clever.
Lydia just raised one perfect eyebrow at that and led them deeper into the store to the more private fitting area.
An Asian woman was helping another customer but other than that the store was empty. It wasn't even noon, Vegas was still sleeping.
Over the next hour Derek tried on countless pieces of clothing with Stiles running a nonstop commentary on the whole thing.
At first Derek had been excited but now he was just throwing on whatever Lydia was handing him, pants, dress shirts, jackets, he didn't care anymore. The pieces she deemed worthy got an extra treatment with pins. She worked surely and efficiently and didn't prick him once.
The pile of things to keep grew but there was little that didn't need altering. Derek didn't actually see a reason for that most of the time but he had learned in the first two minutes of knowing Lydia that his opinion on this matter didn't count.
When they had his wardrobe together, there he had his Lydia Martin socks along with underwear with her name on it, and they had even found something fitting enough that Lydia was willing to let him out of her store wearing it as it was, Derek thought it was finally over. He just wanted to go home. Or back to Stiles' place, which technically was his home for the foreseeable future. If he never had to try on any new clothes for the rest of his life ever again he would die a happy old man.
However, Lydia had other ideas.
"Strip." She ordered and sure that her order would be followed, she turned to the front of the store. "Kira, if you have a moment ..."
Moments later Derek stood only in his boxers on a little pedestal while Lydia was measuring every inch of him. Derek turned his red face towards the ceiling and let Lydia just do whatever she wanted. Her assistant, Kira, took note, not in the slightest thrown off by the random numbers Lydia was throwing at her. She wasn't human, he could tell, but not everybody was as out as the werewolves so he didn't mention it.
To his surprise the measuring involved less groping than expected and even when Lydia came close to his private parts, her hands wielding the measuring band felt nothing but professional on him. Derek relaxed slightly.
That was when he noticed Stiles. The man had retreated to the corner somewhere behind Derek but even if he couldn't see him, he for sure could hear his heart beating faster. The scent of arousal hung heavy in the air and it wasn't coming from Lydia who was almost kneeling in front of him to measure the length of the inner side of his leg. She and her assistant were focused on their work and didn't bother with unprofessional thoughts.
Derek could almost feel Stiles' gaze between his naked shoulder blades. Or maybe on his ass, he wasn't quite sure.
Then Lydia's hand hit a ticklish spot and he twitched, clenching his ass in reflex, and for sure Stiles' breath hitched.
Yesterday Stiles had refused to keep him as his personal sex slave and now he was lusting all over him. Derek wasn't sure what to make out of that. Maybe their charade wasn't such a good idea after all but so far Stiles hadn't made a move on him.
The playroom flashed in his mind but before he could explore that thought farther, memories of her tainted everything. With a sigh, which he hoped passed as bored, Derek shoved the memories back into the depths of his mind.
Then Lydia was finally done with him and he could put on some clothes. He left the store head to toe dressed in Lydia Martin and felt only a little guilty when Stiles casually swiped his card to pay for the designer clothes.
Lydia said that she would call him for his first fitting session for the suit and Derek couldn't help but wonder how he'd ended up having fitting sessions with on of the world's top designers. Yesterday he had been flipping burgers.
Isaac drove them back to the Red and all Derek wanted to do was to drop dead on his bed and sleep for a week.
Instead Stiles guided him deeper into the labyrinth beyond the shiny casino and classy hotel.
"Boyd will set you up with everything you need." He told him and shoved him towards a door.
Since Stiles had been spotted outside of the penthouse on his day off, people seemed to think that they could bother him. Two people had approached him with urgent matters on the way from the garage alone and by now Stiles' phone was chiming with new messages nonstop.
"Come up to the penthouse when you're done here." He said over his shoulder, already striding down the corridor and typing furiously on his phone.
Derek stared after him for a moment before he turned around to find out what he was supposed to do here.
The door read "Vernon Boyd - Staff Manager". Right, he was now officially staff. Derek knocked and entered.
Boyd was sitting behind a neat desk, no papers astray like he'd seen on Stiles' desk in the penthouse. He was working on his computer but had one file lying on his desk. Derek had no doubt whose file it was.
"Stiles said you wanted to see me?" Derek prompted when Boyd kept on typing.
"Just let me finish …" He said, eyes firmly on the screen, but he gestured for Derek to take a seat in front of the desk. Derek had been prepared for another round of pitiful glances and questions if he was okay. This was surprisingly refreshing.
"So." Boyd finally said and reached for the file. "Stiles made you his personal assistant."
"That's right." Derek wasn't sure if he should add a "sir" but after yesterday it somehow felt wrong. Boyd didn't seem to mind. Instead he leaved through the pages of the contract as if he didn't know exactly what was in there.
"Stiles forgot the non-disclosure agreement." Boyd reached down and took a form out of a drawer. "We can and we will sue you if you give out or sell information about the Red Riding Hood, our guests or the people who work here."
Derek signed the form.
Then he signed another form for his key card.
"This will give you free access to most of the staff areas and you can use it for the elevator to get up to the penthouse." He locked eyes with Derek. "Don't lose it."
There was an awkward pause and Derek wondered if they were done here. But then Boyd spoke again.
"I don't know what Stiles is doing here." He admitted. "And he made it very clear that it's none of my business." He tapped the file. "But I have to ask. Is this what you want?"
"Yes." Derek was sure of that.
Boyd studied him for a long moment but accepted his decision without questioning.
Moments later Derek stood in the hallway with no idea which direction to turn to get back to the penthouse.
Chapter 6
Masterpost