Derek found himself settling into a routine with Stiles. Because Derek worked days and Stiles worked night, they didn't actually spend a lot of time together.
Derek learned that Stiles didn't have a roommate – the extra room was Scott's who'd moved out across the street with Allison who also worked at Tardis – in accounts. He found out that Stiles dad was the local Sheriff. He found out that Stiles was a great cook but was lazy – and loved take-outs. He learned that he took his computer games seriously and that at Tardis, news about inter-departmental romances spread like wild fire.
"So, I hear you've hooked up with Stilinski up on the Droner floor." Boyd grinned, looking up from his text-book.
"I hear you just got your ass dropped by Erica?"
"Touché."
Stiles learned that Hale was a neat freak who put everything back the way he found it like he was in the military. He learned that his morning routine consisted of half a grapefruit and a run before he showered for work. He learned that Derek liked home cooked meals over take-outs. He learned about Laura and her rehab (or retreat as Hale called it) to help her with her drinking. He also learned that Hale didn't like dressing up. At all.
"Cody – Lydia will kill you if you don't wear something themed."
"I'm not wearing wings." Hale grumped, sitting on the edge of the bed while Stiles got ready for work. They had a few overlapping hours that were normally spent either laughing or making out – normally both. "And it's not Cody."
"I refuse to sleep with a Colbert, I'm sorry." Stiles laughed. "So if that's your name, please, pick up your toothbrush and leave – wear horns then. You have to wear something!"
"I'm not putting horns on either."
Derek felt a little weird that he'd pretty much moved into Stiles apartment when they'd only been together a week, but Stiles had given him Scott's old key and told him that only an idiot would miss the chance to spend more time with him, and Derek – who'd spent his time since arriving in Beacon Hills getting to know exactly one person (Isaac) – had to agree with him. He found himself laughing all the time. He couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled so much, he felt as though he hadn't a worry in the world.
So when he unlocked the door to find Stiles standing, grinning like a cat who'd not only stolen the cream but the whole damn cow, he knew something bad was about to happen to him.
"Cole,"
"Nope."
"Fine. Colin – no, don't interrupt! – I've got you an outfit for the weekend."
Derek was wearing a pair of wings and a halo, as well as the tightest pair of white jeans he'd ever worn in his life. He was pretty sure his changes of ever fathering a child were dropping the longer that he wore them. Luckily though, he'd be able to pay for the testical retrieval operation from the tips he was making alone – and Isaac was managing to pull in twice the amount as he was.
The place was bursting with people. He'd already seen Scott and Allison (dressed as Angel from Buffy and a weeping angel from Dr Who) and Erica, who was apparently some white eye'd demon called Lilith in a simple white dress splashed with 'blood'. There was a lot of beige trenchcoats and ties – which Derek didn't understand – and a lot of people with wings. It seemed (aside from Erica and a couple of others) Angels were the thing to come as. White suits, white jeans, white vests, white wings… Derek had felt like a total idiot before the doors opened, with his jeans and wings (Stiles had insisted that he remain shirtless – which was why he was making a fortune in tips) standing beside Isaac who was wearing almost the same thing, but with bigger wings.
Then everyone had started to arrive, and Derek felt less like an idiot but more like a piece of meat. He saw Boyd, wearing a black suit and looking… well… just like Boyd, approach the bar.
"What the hell are you meant to be?" Derek called out, pouring him a drink.
"Uriel." Boyd shrugged. "He was the only angel of colour I could find on Google." Isaac – at the other side of the bar – waved over at him, smiling widely. "I see Isaac went with the Angel as well, huh?"
"Yeah." Derek shrugged. "I thought there would be more demons."
"Yeah – a big club of gay guys and the opportunity to wear feathers?"
"Point taken." Derek laughed. "I thought it might be quieter. Yesterday was dead."
"Yeah," Boyd laughed as he paid for his drink. "Everyone was saving up for tonight, dude!"
Isaac was pleased with his wings. They were a little smaller than they looked online, but that was probably for the best as he tried not to knock all the bottles off the shelves behind him. He'd always gone as the Angel – the innocent – to these things, because in a way, it felt like he was atoning for all the crap he'd pulled as a teenager. He was pretty pleased that Derek had gotten with the programme and decided to wear something, almost identical to what Isaac wore, but he thought that perhaps Stiles had more to do with that than anything. From how Derek had been acting, Isaac thought that perhaps Stiles could have gotten him to arrive dressed like a Cupid, with a diaper and everything.
It was good though, to see him smile more, and it didn't hurt the tips.
Stiles loved dressing up. He'd set the bar too high at Halloween with the drag thing, it was fun but he wouldn't do it again, so when he picked his outfit, he decided against any of the costume shop ideas and gone for something a little more… sophisticated.
A lot of red dye and some crazy sewing skills (thank you High School credits for the props department) and he looked… well… like a damn king. King of Hell, to be exact.
When he arrived, late because his damn contact lenses wouldn't go in, he handed in his coat to the cloakroom and got a wolf whistle – which was exactly the best way to start the night.
He'd gone for a tight (so tight!) red pants and a matching red waistcoat that fitted him like a second skin. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a blood red tie – black contact lenses and had taken full advantage of the hair cut he needed to spike two horn shapes with some gel – wolverine style.
He looked like he'd just stepped off a photo-shoot for vogue – just hoped that his eyeliner wasn't going to end up running all the way done his face – and he felt fucking killer.
Once he'd walked into the main space though, he threw up a silent prayer that he'd kept away from the Castiel he'd been playing about with, because he could see at least 5 different trench coats, and he prided himself on being original. As he passed, he found himself getting appreciative looks from the guys around him, and smirked at them as he walked, full off swagger and intent – he was heading for the surly looking angel behind the bar.
Derek saw Stiles arrive and had a moment where he found breathing a little difficult before he got a grip of himself. Stiles was wearing… well… red. Lots of red. Tight red. And a suit.
Because he'd only ever seen Stiles wear his jeans and hoodies around the house, and his loose-fitting work clothes, he wasn't expecting to see him in that tight suit and… Derek hadn't ever thought of himself having a suit fetish, but seeing Stiles dressed like that made him appreciate the body underneath – and judging by the smirk and the swagger as he made his way over to the bar, Stiles knew exactly what he was doing.
Isaac got the feeling that Derek hadn't seen Stiles in full 'cos-play' mode before – and was watching the reactions play across his face as Stiles approached the bar. Isaac had expected Stiles to pull out all the stops, and he had, with that outfit. Some kind of demon, Isaac thought – Stiles probably did some research before settling on a look – the black contact lenses looked awesome with the dark eyeliner he'd used. Everyone was watching him swagger up to the bar like he owned the place.
He poured another couple of drinks, wondering if he should have gone as a demon this year – when he saw him.
Standing off to one side of the room, partly obscured by people as they walked between them… was a demon. The black suit wasn't as tight as the one Stiles was wearing, mostly because the guy was pretty built across the shoulders, but his devil mask meant that Isaac just couldn't tell who it was.
And he was staring.
At him.
With dark, intent eyes.
Isaac served the drinks with a grin, putting his (large) tip into the jar, and looked back. The devil was still there. Still staring.
And damn… but that was hot.
"I'll have a rum and coke." Stiles said, throwing Angel Hale a dark smile (that he'd totally been practicing in the mirror for the better part of a week) and got a thrill up his spine when he got a slightly flustered look in return. That was his plan. He wanted to make sure that by the time they got back to his place, Hale was ready to do anything Stiles asked. And Stiles was going to ask for a lot.
"It's on the house." Hale said, voice rougher than normal. Stiles chose to think it was the tight ass suit and the hotness he was projecting, but it was more than likely the fact he'd been shouting at people all night with the volume of the music.
"Careful, Angel – I might just take advantage of your position at the bar…" Stiles replied, letting the emphasis sit on the word position and trailing off. He could see the darkening of Hales eyes as he spoke, pupils going wider.
He gave Hale another suggestive smile (practiced, of course) and carried his drink over to where he could see Scott and Allison dancing.
"Angel?" He scoffed, goosing Scott with his free hand, getting a decidedly un-masculine squeal from his best friend. "How unoriginal."
"Holy crap, Stiles!" Allison gushed, grabbing his arms and turning him 360 so she could get a good look at him. "You look amazing!"
"Why, thank you, Little Miss Don't Blink." He laughed, taking a sip of his drink. "I like the teeth."
"Thanks." She grinned, pointed teeth showing. "They make drinking nearly impossible."
"And making out." Scott complained, which made Stiles laugh and Allison roll her eyes. "What? I care about stuff like that."
"That's all you care about." Allison shot back, tone good natured. "I swear to god, I'm going to start rewarding good behaviour with kisses and train you like a puppy."
Scott didn't look too unhappy with that idea, shooting his fiancé a 'yes please' look and wiggling his eyebrows.
"Oh my god, I think I might need insulin because you two are so damn sweet." Stiles complained as he was grabbed from behind by a pair of blood soaked hands.
"Oh, if I kiss you, will you take my soul?" Erica purred into his ear, voice low and sexy. Stiles turned to face her, and gave her white eyes and dress a long look.
"I don't think you have a soul to steal… Lilith."
"Bingo!" She laughed, kissing him on the cheek. "Boy got it on the first try."
"I aim to please."
"I saw that," Erica smirked, "And so did your bartender boyfriend, from the look he's giving you – don't turn around – it's like he wants to eat you up."
Stiles raised an eyebrow and smirked. "All part of my cunning plan." He told her, before downing the rest of his drink and heading for the floor. "Lady Lilith, come dance with your King."
Happy Monday All!
I am unhappy to report that today was just as bad as last week at work, because all of our systems were down on Friday I've a whole day of catch-up to do. So BOO!
But YAY! For sexy-ass-Stiles and Shirtless-Derek-with-wings!
Tomorrow – as a special gift for Amanda (aka TheDreamerLady) I will be having a mini plot shift over to Angel!Isaac and his Devil!Danny to say 'Happy Birthday Amanda!' and also a big thank you for all the support you have given me as I write these stories. So…
Happy Birthday for tomorrow!
(Sam has his soul back, He seems okay about it, lots of hugs all around. Castiel still seems… odd… and I want to marry Dean. Still.
Also, in Community, it is December 10th, and everyone got into a fight.)
Love you all, I'll try to write more tomorrow!