Derek sat on the edge of his bed with a big mess of cash scattered out on his mattress as he counted his daily earnings. He divided the ones, fives, tens and twenties into individual piles and rubber band each one once they reached a desired amount.
"Knock, knock."
Derek tensed up at the sound, it was mid-day, and he had just finished up with his drug runs for the day. He wasn't expecting anybody. Then again, he was never expecting anybody. He always did his deals away from his place.
He never wanted anyone knowing where he lived for safety reasons, as well as wanting to protect his loot and privacy.
He took out his sliver 44 magnum pistol from the back of his snug blue jeans, that he brought with him every time he was out making drug runs as a safety precaution in case someone tried to steal his shit or cheat him of his cash.
It also was a good thing to have in his place in case someone tried to break into his place and steal his stash or dough. Derek wasn't a fan of guns but sometimes they were necessary.
He took the safety off the gun and as he peeked out his bedroom window into the parking lot, trying to sneak a peek at who was at his front door.
He caught sight of a crème colored hand with long delicate looking fingers, part of a red hoodie jacket, blue jeans and a glimpse of short brown hair sticky out.
Derek let out a frustrated sigh, putting the safety back on his gun.
He quickly gathered the cash and pistol and placed them inside his safe, locking it up before closing his bedroom door behind him and heading over to the front door, swinging it open in annoyance to see none other than Stiles.
"I thought I told you to never come back here." He snapped at the teen.
Stiles opened his mouth to speak when Derek shut the door in his face.
Derek started walking to his room when the knocking started up again.
"Knock, knock, knock, knock, KNOCK, KNOCK!"
"What?" Derek barked, flinging his door open, hitting it against to wall by the force.
"I have nowhere else to go."
"What are you talking about Stiles?"
"My dad knows I do drugs and he kicked me out."
"What, how would your father know that?" Derek asked.
Stiles shrugged.
"I don't know. He must have smelt it on me."
"Coke doesn't have a smell Stiles." Derek replied, rubbing his forehead in stress.
"Well, I got some weed from a friend of a friend and I started to smoke it in my room and lost track of time and before I knew it my dad was home. I aired out my room the best I could and tossed out the weed but he knew that smell being a cop and all. They are trained to know stuff like that. The hazards of being a cop's son."
"Get on with the story Stiles."
"Well, my dad smelled it and said he wouldn't allow a pothead living under his roof and kicked me out. So here I am."
"Here you are?" Derek repeated now noticing Stiles had a duffle bag on his shoulder.
"I was thinking since we hit it off so well and you seem like a cool dude you would let me crash here for a bit."
"Oh no, no way. Forget it!" Derek said in a rush, slamming the door in his face.
"Ok fine, I'll just live on the streets and become a prostitute then. I'll probably catch a disease or two and die. I would hate to have that on my subconscious knowing I could have prevented such a tragedy!" Stiles shouted at the closed door.
He waited a moment.
When there was no sign of moment or sounds coming from the other side of the door he let out a defeated sigh, and turned to walk away, when the door flung open and Derek grabbed his arm.
"Get in here! What is this, some kind of game to you?" Derek bickered.
"No, thanks for letting me stay here."
"Shut up Stiles. I haven't promised you anything yet."
"Drop your duffle bag, take a seat and let me think." Derek instructed as he began to pace back and forth.
Stiles did as told, placing his bag on the floor by the couch and sitting on the cushion.
"There's got to be someone you know that could take you in." Derek said as he stopped in his spot and turned to face the troubled teen.
"Grandparents?"
"Dead."
"Aunts or uncles?"
"Live out of state."
"A best friend perhaps?" Derek asked, desperate.
"His Dad works for the FBI, I don't think you want him seeing you pull up to drop me off. Nor will he take lightly to a drugged out kid being friends with his son."
"Jesus Stiles, there's got to be someone who can take you in." Derek stressed, starting to panic, knowing his chances were dwindling down to nothing.
"Look Derek, I know how you feel about me. That I'm just some pesky, little kid but there is no one else. You're my only option and I promise I will stay out of your hair while I'm here. That is, if you let me stay." Stiles claimed.
"Fine."
"What?"
"You can stay, BUT, only as a temporary thing and you better not get in my way or I'll have your ass out on the curb so fast you won't know what hit you." Derek warned.
Stiles lit up at the news.
"Oh, thank you Derek. I'll be good, I promise." He said excitedly, getting up from his seat and pulling Derek into a hug.
Derek quickly pushed the teen away.
"Don't touch me." He said.
"Oh cool, no touching, got it." Stiles replied, holding his hands up, showing he met no harm before leaning down and grabbing his duffle bag off the ground.
"So, where is my room?"
"Room?" Derek chuckled bitterly.
"It's called a couch, make yourself at home." Derek mocked, as he walked into the kitchen to pick up his now buzzing cell phone.
"That's fine, I can make this work." Stiles said to himself as he dropped his heavy duffle bag on the long three seating, black leather couch and worked on slipping his shoes off, placing them on the ground next to the couch, before sitting back down on the big cushy sofa.
"Mind if I use your shower? I didn't get a chance to clean up before my dad kicked me out." Stiles said with a bit of annoyance in his tone as he unzipped his bag and dug through his things.
"There's no time for that." Derek replied, pressing some buttons on his phone, dialing a number.
"What, don't be silly, there is always time for cleanliness. You know cleanliness is close to godliness." Stiles said as he took out a clean pair of clean clothes.
"Shut up Stiles." Derek voiced, before his cell up to his ear.
"Yeah, it's me. Where are we doing this, the usual spot? Okay, I'll be there shortly." He replied before ending the call.
"Put your shoes back on. We are going out."
"What? Oh man, I just got comfortable." Stiles whined.
"Hurry up. I don't have all day." Derek voiced as he put his jacket on and grabbed his keys.
"Okay, okay. Where are we going exactly?" Stiles asked as he slipped his sneakers back on and tied them.
Derek let out an annoyed sigh as he looked down at his watch.
"I need to meet with my supplier and get more products to sell."
"Why do I need to come for that? Why can't I stay here, shower and just chill?" Stiles complained as he got off the couch.
"Because I don't trust you alone in my place. Now, let's go. You move slower than molasses." Derek voiced opening the door waiting for Stiles to walk out.
"You move slower than molasses." Stiles repeated, annoyed as he walked outside.
"Do you want to live on the street because that can be arranged?" Derek replied, as he closed his door locking it up.
Stiles let out a sigh but kept his mouth shut as he got in the passenger side and Derek started to drive.
Once they pulled up to a vacant parking lot Derek parked the car.
"Stay in the car. I'll be back shortly."
"What, you're telling me you brought me all this way to just sit here?" Stiles argued.
"Stiles, you'll do what I tell you. Now, stay here." Derek ordered, before getting out and shutting the door behind him.
Stiles huffed frustrated folding his arms into his chest. He looked out the window watching as Derek walked off down a side alley out of view.
After five minutes passed Stiles grew bored, he fiddled with the radio but found nothing of interest to listen too.
He was getting antsy.
Ten minutes went by.
"Stay here, stay here." He repeated to himself, as he drummed his fingers on his legs trying to pass the time.
"Oh fuck it." Stiles said, opening up the car down.
It was cooler out, the sound of dogs barking, rap music playing in the distance along with the sound of cars driving by the filled the air.
Stiles looked around cautiously as he headed in the direction Derek headed to a little earlier.
Derek looked through the duffel bag full of sample bag sizes of weed and coke along with some other products.
"This is all of it?" He asked his supplier, Boyd, a muscular, dark brown man dressed in a black and white swear with tan jeans. A pair of white Jordan's and a thick gold chain around his neck, finished his look.
"It's all there man, you got the money?" Boyd asked.
Derek dug in his leather jacket pocket pulling out a big stack of cash, making Boyd's chocolate colored eyes light up.
"Yo Derek, how much longer?" Stiles voiced, as he walked down the alley.
A couple of guys drew guns at the teen causing him to freeze up in in his spot, wide eyed, holding his hands up in surrender.
"Whoa, whoa, lower your guns." Derek orders.
"My men don't take orders from you, only me." Boyd said drawing a gun on him.
"What the hell is this Derek, you working with the feds now?"
Derek chuckled amused.
"Hardly. The kid with me"
"You're a baby sitter on the side now too?" Boyd said amused.
"He works for me, his new. Now, do we have a deal or what?"
Derek grabbed Stiles arm roughly as they walked back to the car.
"Owe, owe, owe. Not so tight." He whined as Derek dropped his grip.
"Are you trying to get killed? Huh? I told you to stay in the damn car!"
"I'm sorry, I got bored."
"You got... you almost got shot and ruin my deal!"
"It won't happen again."
"Your right, it won't happen again. I want you gone."
"What? That's not fair. I have nowhere else to go Derek." Stiles stressed.
"Not my problem. I'll let you stay the night but tomorrow, I want your ass out."
"Fine, be that way. See if I care." Stiles said stubbornly, folding his arms into his chest and turning to stare out the window as Derek drove them back to his place.
"My own father doesn't want me. You think I care if a drug dealer like you doesn't want me around either?" Stiles bickered upset.
Derek turned to Stiles mid drive noticing how quite he was being.
He heard a sniffle and noticed as Stiles brought a hand to his face as if to wipe a tear away.
Derek had a mental fight going on in his head as if wondering if he should say something or not.
He chose not to and let out a stress out breath, gripping his steering wheel a bit tighter.
Derek opened the front door as Stiles silently and sluggishly made his way to the couch, slouching down in it.
"Go ahead and take your shower. I'm going to put this away and then order a pizza, how does that sound?"
Stiles shrugged.
"Fine. Whatever." He said dully.
Derek let out a stressed sigh before going into his room. He shut the door and removed a picture off the wall that was hiding a safety vault behind it.
He put in his pin combo and opened it up, placing his new stash of drugs inside before closing it up and placing the picture frame back over his hiding place.
He could hear the shower running as he came back out into the hallway.
It bothered him seeing Stiles upset and he didn't know why.
He was just some stupid annoying kid, too stubborn and cocky for his own good but it bothered him just the same.
What bothered him most was the strong urge he had to protect the kid.
