Stiles woke up, stretching out his tired muscles, before sitting up in bed. He looked toward the bottom of the bed noticing Scott was sitting on the edge putting his shoes back on.
"Man, I slept like a log. How about you?"
"I slept decent but I still don't think that bed is worth rent money," Scott replied, getting up and heading over to his backpack on the ground, making sure he had everything he came with before zipping it back up.
"Hey, you got to admit it is better than my lousy twin bed," Stiles claimed, as he pulled back his covers, getting off the mattress.
"I suppose. What are your plans for the day?" Scott asked curious, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"Oh, don't worry about me. I have a lot to occupy my time." Stiles voiced, as he grabbed his phone off his nightstand, checking for any missed calls or texts before setting it back down with a sigh.
"Oh right, job searching," Scott said, as if answering his own question.
"Well, right now, I have a hot shower with my name on it. The rest I'll figure out as I go."
"All right man, I'm gonna head out. Allison invited me to the beach. I'm sure you could tag along if you want."
"No man, I'm fine. I don't want to spoil your alone time. Plus, I've never been big on the whole beach thing. The hot sand, the sunburn, the sharks…no, thank you. You have fun."
"Well, when you put it that way, it doesn't sound too thrilling." Scott cringed at the mental picture forming in his head.
"Dude, forget what I said. I'm sure it will be fine, just think of Allison in a bikini, and her possibly willing to take it off for you."
Scott perked up at this and smirked.
"Right. So worth it. Later man." He voiced before walking out of the apartment, shutting the door behind him.
Stiles chuckled, "What a dingbat." He headed over to the bathroom when suddenly there was a knock at the front door, stopping him.
"Oh, Danny. He's always forgetting his damn keys. And he calls me the irresponsible one." Stiles said in thought shaking his head, before going to the front door, yanking it open, and quickly walking off.
"It's opened, Jackass. Maybe you would know that if you actually pulled on the door." Stiles snapped as he headed back towards the bathroom with a full bladder, not bothering to glance in his roommate's direction.
"Sir?" An unknown guy's voice filled the air.
Stiles quickly swung around to eye the guy standing at the door, dressed in a delivery service uniform.
He blushed sheepishly at the discovery, not only did he call the stranger a jackass but he was standing in front of the guy in only his white boxer shorts and multicolor socks, feeling very exposed.
He grabbed the first thing he could find to cover himself up which was the crème color sofa throw, and draped it over his shoulders. The medium size throw did very little to cover the teen. At most, it covered his back and shoulders, but that was it.
Stiles cursed under his breath in stress. Leave it to Danny to buy a throw for the sofa that was decorative rather than a useful blanket.
"I'm sorry about that. I thought you were my jerk of a roommate. Can we hurry this up, I have to piss like a racehorse." Stiles said, coming over and moving his weight a bit from side to side, trying to distract himself from the pressure on his bladder.
"Uhh…" The working guy looked him over at the doorway, glancing down at his boxers that were somewhat tented, thanks to morning wood.
Stiles noticed and quickly moved the throw to the front, holding it like a towel.
"Are you Stiles Stilinski?" The guy continued, finally meeting his eyes.
"Yes."
The guy handed him a white envelope. "Have a nice day, sir." He voiced before walking off down the hall, heading to the stairs.
"You too!" Stiles called back before closing the door and dropping the throw on the ground, giving the envelope his full attention.
He looked down at his full name written neatly on the cover. A handwriting he remembered well. He quickly ripped the top open and slid out the thick paper from inside, looking it over. It matched the color theme of Derek's business card. Clearly, he had a love for black and gold, or his company did, or maybe they just thought it was a good color combination for a fancy event. And that, it was.
The card itself was black with a gold square border, decorated with a set of gold leaves sitting diagonally across from each other on the edge. The writing was also in gold trim and made in a fancy script.
Stiles read the invite to himself:
Hale Enterprises would like to formally invite you to a black-tie dinner.
This event is purely for the purpose of our employees at the company to have a chance to mingle with other members as well as the possibility of gaining new clientele, as some clients will be attending the function as well. Remember to have fun, and as always, act professionally. Any plus ones must be pronounced at least three days prior to the event to be reviewed, and accepted.
Dress and tie required.
Cocktails will be served from 5:00 to 6:00 p.m.
Dinner will be served at 7:00 p.m.
Thank you, and we look forward to seeing you there!
Please be sure to keep this invite close, as it is also your ticket to the event.
Saturday, January 5th
5:00 p.m.- 9:00 p.m.
Paradise Gardens Event Hall
Los Olas, 4572 Orange Drive
"Jesus, this sounds fancy as hell. What the heck did I get myself into?" The teen didn't have much time to think before the need to urinate won over.
"Oh shit! Oh shit!" He yelled, dropping the invite on the coffee table before b lining it to the toilet, quickly pulling down his boxers and aiming his loaded cock at the water hole down below, before releasing himself in a fast, steady stream.
He rested his head against the wall in front of him, and sighed contently as the last few drops came out.
Once showered and dressed Stiles headed over to the couch, plopping down and turning on the tv, trying to find something good to watch.
The sound of the bedroom door opening caught his attention, he glanced over to see Danny coming out dressed in a light pink tank top with a green palm tree design on the top left chest area, hot pink shorts, and hot orange flipflops with matching orange sunglasses hanging off the top of his shirt.
"Oh, you're here." He voiced as if surprised to see someone else was there.
"I do live here, you know," Stiles said slightly annoyed.
He didn't know what it was, but there was something about Danny that got under his skin. Perhaps, it was the fact that he acted like he was all high and mighty compared to him, because he had his shit together and acted slightly more mature than Stiles and Scott. Whatever the reason, it bugged the teen, and for that, Stiles didn't like spending much time with him.
Danny wasn't that bad in high school. Sure, a little stuck up but he still didn't mind hanging out with the slightly younger gang, and sharing a laugh.
Since college, he changed quite a bit. He suddenly took growing up seriously, got a job as a bartender, and an apartment, and only hung out with mature crowds his age or older. He didn't have time for the party scene anymore. Unless of course, there was a chance he would be getting laid.
Stiles was lucky to even get to rent from him. Danny didn't want to at first, but he had recently lost a roommate and needed someone quick. Stiles had some saved-up money between his part-time job and his side hustle of mowing lawns back in high school. That, and he was able to guilt Danny into it considering his dad was the sheriff, and Stiles knew a lot about past stuff he had done. It was quite a good bargaining chip, but would only go so far with rent coming up.
"I thought you had class at this time?" Danny said, looking down at his white sports watch and then back at the teen.
"Uhh, Yeah. Normally I would…but the teacher is out sick. So, I have the day off. Lucky me." Stiles said with a forced smile.
It's not that Stiles made it a habit to lie, but he didn't want Danny to know about his schooling, or job situation until he had money in his hand, and a plan for the future. The last thing he needed was for Danny to go off and tell his father what he was up to, or rather, not up to.
"Where are you going dressed like that?" He asked eying his roommate's tropical explosion of an outfit.
"The beach."
"Oh, you got an invite from Scott too?" Stiles asked curious.
"Hell no. I'm not hanging out with you delinquents. I'm meeting a boy toy there." Danny said, fixing his hair in the picture-size mirror hanging on the wall, right outside his room.
"Hmmm, have fun."
"Oh, I plan to." He replied, sliding his sunglasses off his shirt, and slipping them on his face, heading off to the door with a beach-size towel in hand.
"Don't get eaten by a shark!" Stiles called out over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on the tv screen, watching whatever program was on it.
"Oh, I plan to be eaten, but not by a shark," Danny said in the doorway.
"Eww, Danny, TMI!" The teen shouted back, trying to block out the sudden images of Danny's tan, hairy ass up in the air, being devoured by some random dude like he was at an all-you-can-eat buffet, while waves crashed the sand in the background.
Danny chuckled shutting the door.
A moment of silence went by before the door creaked open once more.
"Friday. Rent." Danny reminded.
"Yeah, it's coming," Stiles replied before he heard the sound of the door being closed once more.
Luckily, the door stayed closed after that.
Stiles picked up his cell and started texting to the familiar number he had come to know so well.
Stiles: Hey man, I know you're probably busy getting busy, just let me know when I can come by and collect a suit from you for that thing, I have this weekend.
Scott: Dude, you have the worst timing, I was just about to receive some special attention from Allison's mouth.
Stiles: Please, spare me the details. Can I come later today to pick it up?
Scott: Sure. Whatever man. You can come later, as long as I get to come now.
Stiles: Well, stop texting and maybe you can.
Scott: Oh, right. Later.
*Wednesday*
10:00 a.m. Stiles woke up, poured himself a bowl of cereal, and began a game of Call of Duty.
"Get him! Yeah, you're dead sucker!" He yelled as he pounded away at his controller deep in the game.
1:45 p.m. Stiles scans the fridge for something to eat. He decides to go with day-old pizza, heats it up in the microwave, too lazy to actually try and put it in the oven. He soon regrets his decision when he leaves it in the microwave too long and the pizza ends up tasting like cardboard with melted cheese on it. He ends up tossing it out after a few bites and makes a healthy salad instead for his lunch.
2:30 p.m. More Call of Duty.
3:00 p.m. Scott text. He asks how the job search is going and Stiles scrambles to put together some bullshit lie about Harris owing him money for all the times he worked overtime, and how he has a ton of sick days and vacation days he never used that added up to a good sum of change, coming his way Friday. Even though he only worked part-time there. Luckily, Scott bought it. He didn't say otherwise. Stiles even went as far as to say he told Mr. Harris of his situation, and that the man knew someone at the Market store who was looking for someone, and would put a good word in for him. Good old, not so old, Mr. Harris.
4:00 p.m. Stiles goes on social media, checking out Twitter to see what is currently going on in the world with celebrities, shows, world news, and random followers he has. He comes across some news of a celebrity pregnancy of someone he has never heard of before, and sees climate change news all over with fires and floods popping up all over the world. Great. And people he follows posting random things like, cats, creative artwork, and a jar of pickles? What? How does that even make sense? And if he was really lucky, Stiles would stumble across some NSFW, which luckily for him, he didn't have to worry about someone breathing down his neck as he viewed the naughty works. He viewed many guy-on-guy drawings and some even real-life porn images of some hot and some not-so-hot guys modeling nude. He pondered about jerking off but then thought about his plans with Derek and decided not to. Getting off was always so much better when you waited a bit, letting your sperm build-up. The anticipation made it way more rewarding, or so he was told.
6:00 p.m. Dinner time. The fridge was looking pretty bare now with the pizza gone. Stiles went with soup and a salad and made a mental note to go grocery shopping as soon as possible.
7:00 p.m. More tv.
11:00 p.m. Stiles decided to head to bed but actually just laid in bed staring up at the ceiling for an hour before sleep took over.
*Thursday*
11:30 a.m. Stiles woke up and went to make a bowl of cereal only to realize there was less than a half cup of milk left. He cursed under his breath and made due, filling his bowl up with a small amount of cereal and pouring the remainder of the milk into it, before washing out the carton and shooting it into the waste basket, only to miss. He grumbled under his breath and sluggishly walked over, picking it up and tossing it out. He then proceeded to eat his drier-than-wet cereal.
12:00 p.m. Stiles took a shower to wake his tired body up and of course, get the oil and dirt off his skin. After he got dressed, he sent a text to Scott letting him know he got the job, not wanting to worry his friend, as well as, keep his deal with Derek a secret as promised.
1:30 p.m. Stiles headed inside the grocery store, well aware the only people in the store during working and school hours were old retired folks, and maybe some housewives. He probably stood out like a sore thumb. He glanced around at the products on the shelves and in his loaded cart before opening up his wallet, cringing, realizing he wasn't going to be able to get half the stuff he had in his cart.
2:30 p.m. He came home with two bags of groceries worth twenty-five bucks. Milk, lettuce, salad dressing, shredded carrots, cereal, and a whole pack of Ramen noodles. Yup, Stiles was going to have to tough it out the next few days until he got paid for his services.
3:00 p.m. Stiles made some Ramen noodles and a salad for lunch and as for dinner…err. He was going to worry about that when the time came. Maybe his roommate would take pity on him, or Scott would offer to get him a sub. A dude could dream.
4:00 p.m. Stiles browsed the web and came upon Yoga and meditation for relieving stress and helping build a brighter future. He didn't believe much in that crap but had nothing better to do, and figure it couldn't hurt to try it. He watched intently as the woman on the screen with the never-ending smile and pip in her step began her lesson, grabbing her yoga mat, and laying it out on the ground before standing on it.
"Okay guys, I want you to take a deep breath and extend your right leg out into the air. Yes, that's it. Now, reach down to the ground with your left arm and exhale as you drop down." The lady instructed on the screen.
"God, how does she even do that?" Stiles stressed, watching the woman do the movements with ease.
He mimicked what the lady was doing, his legs shaking like crazy as he started to move down. "Oh ok, I got it. I got… Woah!" He exclaimed as he fell to the ground with a thud.
Stiles rolled onto his back and let out a heavy sigh, as the woman went on in the background, showing off her next move, which looked more complicated than the last.
"So, this is what it's like to be retired? No one to hang with and bored out of your mind. Got it." The teen thought out loud.
5:00 p.m. Stiles laid back in his comfy bed and put on his earphones, listening to some music to keep his mind off his obvious situation, and drifted off.
6:30 p.m. Stiles was woken up by Scott, shaking him awake by the shoulder and shoving a fresh sub and bag of chips into his face. Stiles practically drooled from the smell alone.
"Dude, you are my knight in shining armor. I could kiss you!" He claimed, quickly unwrapping the sub, and taking a big bite, letting out a satisfying moan.
Scott chuckled, shaking his head, and grabbed an extra soda out of his bag, tossing it on the bed next to his friend.
"Yeah, well. You're welcome, but the only kisses I want are from Allison, and maybe Jessica Alba if she ever gave me a chance." He said smiling goofy at the thought.
Stiles chuckled, "Noted, next time Jessica hits me up I'll send her your way."
"Please do."
"Anyway, it's no big deal. I passed Subway on my way back from my job, and I figured you were probably starving over here. There were slim pickings in that fridge Sunday night. I can only imagine what it looks like now."
"I went shopping today, but money only gets you so far," Stiles said with a shrug, before tossing a couple of chips in his mouth to crunch on.
Scott looked over at his friend worriedly.
"Don't give me that look, man. I'll be fine. Payday is tomorrow and I'll be able to buy a whole shit load of groceries if I want."
"You sure, man? Even with rent?" Scott asked.
"Yeah. This job is good money. I'll be fine." Stiles voiced before downing some of his soda.
"Ok man, just know if you ever need help. I'm here. I don't have much but I can lend you some cash."
"My hero," Stiles said playfully in a girly voice, looking lovingly at his friend while batting his eyelashes, before busting out laughing seeing Scott's distaste.
"Just eat your sandwich before it gets cold, will ya," Scott replied, taking a bite out of his.
8:30 p.m. After talking to his friend and catching up Scott headed home and Stiles surfed the web. Thoughts of Derek came to him as he looked over random pages on Instagram wondering what the handsome mysterious man's page looked like. Was he a photographer on the side, capturing random shots of things he saw on the daily that fascinated him, or perhaps, taking shots at some fancy upscale resort he stayed at during his travels? Was he the sentimental type? Showing off pictures with loved ones, and treasured memories and items? Was he egotistical, with his page covered with tons and tons of pictures of himself, him taking selfies, him at the gym, him naked on the bed? On second thought, that sounded pretty hot. Stiles wouldn't have minded that one bit. He loved some good eye candy.
Stiles eagerly typed in Derek Hale and hit enter, When the name popped up, he excitedly clicked on it wondering what hidden treasures were there to be found. However, when the page loaded, he was sadly disappointed. There were no sexual pictures or even cute family images. Stiles would have even settled for a cool shot of the sunset, but nope. The page was strictly work-related, boring, and severely lacked personality, as well as, Derek's fine self.
Up top for his bio, Derek talked about his occupation, placing the name of his business, his work email, and his number on there if anyone needed his assistance. As for pictures, There was one of a plaque he won for "The Most Successful Law Firm Of The Year," as well as one he received as a thank-you for a generous donation he gave to a charity for orphanages.
Stiles couldn't tell if he was bragging or just posting it as a means to get better business. Either way, it was quite impressive. He moved on and saw pictures of his office during its renovation stages, before and after. Apparently, Derek had done very well for himself over the years, upgrading from a basic, boring office to the high-scale, spacious place it was currently. It seemed he was proud of his accomplishments and he had every right to be.
Stiles envied him. He wanted to be successful and satisfied with his growth too one day.
He scrolled up and found a zoomed-in picture of Derek's hairy wrist wearing an expensive silver Rolex with the caption: Thank you for the generous gift, Rolex. I now have a pretty nifty device to tell time and look stylish at the same time. I look forward to fighting your fights in the future. Real men wear Rolex.
Good lord, it's worse than he thought, Derek was a walking billboard. Stiles could only imagine the amount of bank the big-shot CEO was making from his personal shoutout.
The other pictures to grace his screen were a bunch of motivational quotes about work. "Play hard and work harder," "The future depends on what you do today," "It always seems impossible until it is done" and the last one, "The best preparation for good work tomorrow is to do good work today."
Stiles thought he was witnessing a TED talk of some sort. All he wanted was some dirty pictures and a bit more insight into Derek but he just felt more confused than ever as to who he was.
He found one group picture taken of all of Derek's work employees and himself, with the caption: I couldn't do what I do without these fine individuals by my side. Thank you.
Maybe he is humble after all, Stiles thought.
He scanned over the picture until he came across Derek's face, and chuckled. Everyone was smiling in the shot, even the receptionist, Lydia. Everyone except Derek, who was standing tall with a stern look on his face like he meant business.
Stiles was definitely going to have to teach the man how to relax more. He made a mental note before looking over at his clock noticing it was twelve at night and decided to head to bed.
*Friday*
Ring, ring.
Ring, ring.
Stiles scrambled out of his tangled covers and reached down grabbing his phone off the nightstand, looking at the name before bringing it to his ear.
"Hey Derek, What's up?" He said with a yawn as he stretched out his tired arms.
"Sorry to be calling so early but I'm heading into a meeting soon, and will be in meetings all day, and I just wanted to confirm that we are good for tomorrow night."
"Yup. Operation: work function, is a go."
Derek would have rolled his eyes if he could, but he was too stressed out about making sure everything was going to go smoothly with his meetings and the event coming up, not to mention, his eyes were preoccupied with proofreading a monologue he typed up for one of the many meetings of the day. He was basically on autopilot, multitasking between his computer and the phone.
"Do you have your ticket?" He asked as he hit print on the computer, letting the device ink up a paper with his words.
"Yes, sir," Stiles replied as he got up from his bed and headed for the kitchen, hearing his stomach start to rumble already for food.
"And you have your suit and tie ready?" Derek asked as he looked over his paper once more, now fully typed, before placing it on top of his other files.
"Check, and check."
"And you promise to be on your best behavior?" Derek stressed, making sure to emphasize the word best.
"Affirmative, sir." The teen voiced, holding his hand to his forehead, saluting the box of cereal on the shelf.
"Stiles."
"What? I gotta have some fun with you." The teen said grabbing the sugary breakfast treat, pouring some in a bowl, and adding milk.
"Save that for later," Derek warned.
"Okie dokie. So, what are you up to?" The teen asked, hearing a lot of papers scattering and machine noises in the background.
"Getting ready for my first meeting of the day. You?"
"Studying," Stiles answered sarcastically, as he sat down on the sofa taking a spoonful of cereal in his mouth before turning his game console on.
"That's right, you mentioned you were in school. What's your major?" Derek asked curious, as he organized his desk, making sure all the papers needed were in order, and placed them in his folder before putting the binder in his briefcase.
"I don't have one." The teen claimed as he began a new game.
"Well, what are you studying in school?" Derek asked as he went through his work emails.
"I'm not."
"You said you were studying."
"Yes, I was being sarcastic. I told you I dropped out of school in my drunken message. At least, I think I did."
"Why?" Derek asked, moving his attention to the teen rather than his work, as he leaned back in his chair.
"Why did I leave you a drunken message?"
"No. Why the lie?"
"Because if I told you what I was really doing right now, I don't think you would approve."
Derek sat up and his chair eager to know more.
"What are you really doing?"
"Trying to beat my last score in Super Mario Kart." Stiles voiced as he hit the buttons on his controller, as the Italian character on screen, dressed up in suspenders sat in a car weaving back and forth between obstacles.
"You're right. I don't approve."
Stiles chuckled on the line. "Told ya."
"So, Why aren't you in school?"
"I'm in debt. I told you I can't afford it. I'll be all right though, thanks to your weekly contribution."
"Right, because becoming a bum and mooching off of others is so appealing." Derek voiced, as he brought his attention back to his emails, addressing one with questions from a fellow employee about the upcoming office meeting.
"Do you want me to end this contract?" Stiles teased.
"You could if you wanted to."
"How much time do I need to give you, two weeks?"
"This isn't a job, Stiles."
"I know that, just asking."
"Whatever works for you, if you need to stop right away, I'll respect that, but I would appreciate some notice, considering there might be an upcoming event scheduled that I promised to go to with a plus one, that can't be changed," Derek informed.
"Got it, give a two-week notice."
"Very well," Derek said, letting out a sigh as he typed out a reply and hit send.
"Cool. So, I get paid today, right?"
"Shit. I completely forgot about it with this damn meeting, and event coming up. My mind has been elsewhere lately. My apologies. I'll message over a check today. Next week, you can give me your banking info so that I can just deposit it directly into your account." Derek replied as he pulled open a drawer and grabbed a stack of blank checks, writing down the amount and date on it before grabbing an envelope to put it in, and jotting Stiles's name on the outside of it.
He pressed the button on his intercom ringing his receptionist. "Ms. Martin, I have an envelope I need sent out as soon as possible, could you please set that up?"
"Yes, sir." She responded back.
"I can't give you my banking number, that's not possible," Stiles replied, reminding the older man that he was still on the line.
"Why not?"
"Because, I don't have a bank account."
"What? How is that possible?" Derek asked confused, as his assistant came in for the envelope, which he handed over with a silent, mouthed-out, "Thank you."
"I mean, I had one at one point, but I couldn't make my school payments or rent, so I just took everything out and once I did that, my account closed." The teen explained, before pausing his game and grabbing his forgotten bowl of cereal, drinking some of the now purple sugary milk.
"Fine, open a new one then."
"I don't have money for one."
"How could you let your bank account get that low, Stiles?"
"It's called being broke, Derek."
"Well, it's essential you have one in life. You need a bank account for practically everything nowadays. I'll come with you next week and give you the money needed to open one, all right?"
"Fine. God, sometimes you remind me of my dad."
"Please, never say that again."
"What's wrong, you don't like to be thought of as an old-fashioned older man?" Stiles teased.
"No, I don't like you thinking of me as your father, especially since we are sexually involved," Derek explained.
"Ewww! Dude! Ok, point taken. Now, I have to go bleach that image of my dad out of my brain."
"You did that to yourself," The older man said with a light snicker.
"Okay, okay, moving on. How do you feel about fucking other people?"
"Against it."
"Why? You the jealous type?"
"No, but I would prefer not to contract an STD."
"You could just get tested you know."
"I do, every time."
"So, you got tested after we… you know."
"Yes."
"Damn, that's crazy."
"No, it's smart."
The line was quiet for a moment and a thought suddenly occurred to Derek.
"I hate to ask, but I'm now thinking it's crucial, How many people have you had sex with?"
"You mean this year, or this week?" Stiles teased.
"Ok, I'm hanging up now."
"No wait, I'm kidding. Five. Five people total, including you."
"When was the last time?"
"Before you? Uhh, Three months ago."
"You?"
"Five years ago."
"You're shitting me?!"
"Believe it or not, some of us have jobs."
Stiles rolled his eyes.
"That's some dedication, Boss."
"I don't have time for a full-blown relationship, hence our arrangement."
"Shoot, you should have told me. I could have gone down on you when I came by to sign the contract. You're way overdue for some head."
"Call me crazy, but I don't think my receptionist would take kindly to seeing you, down on your knees in my office with my dick in your mouth."
"How do you know? She might be into that kind of kinky stuff."
Stiles was met with a dead line.
"Hello, heeelllooo?"
He called back.
"Yes?"
"Yo, I think we got disconnected."
"No, I hung up."
"You hung up? Dang, that's cold."
"Stiles, is there a reason you called back? I'm a busy man."
"Sorry, Sugar Daddy."
"Don't call me that," Derek said cringing at the thought.
"What, Sugar Daddy? That's what you are."
"I like to think of it as partners in a business arrangement."
"Ok, so you're saying this is a business arrangement between my ass and your cock?"
Derek hung up just as Lydia opened the door to his office.
"Sir, the meeting is about to start."
"I'm on my way." He announced grabbing his briefcase in hand, and heading for the door.
Suddenly his cell went off again. He sat his briefcase on his receptionist's desk as he twisted to get it out of his pocket.
"Yes, Stiles."
"Sorry. I'm working on the no-humor thing." The teen voiced realizing the seriousness in Derek's tone.
"Try harder."
"Yes, sir."
Derek let out a stressed sigh as he grabbed his jacket and case once more, heading for the elevator.
"Goodbye, Stiles."
"Bye, Derek. Have a nice day at work, not thinking about me down on my knees, sucking you off."
Derek cursed under his breath as he got inside the elevator with nothing but thoughts of Stiles going down on him.
Damn kid, he thought as the elevator chimed its way to his destination, and he mentally willed his twitchy cock back down, thinking of work-related things. The true hardon killer.