missisjoker:

Captain Finstock is furious.

“Great job, you bunch of morons! Got yourself into a hostage
situation, almost got half of the team killed, and now we have to babysit a
pack of FBI agents because you are so damn incompetent! And no, Hale, you do
not get to opt out of this bullshit because a fed stole your beanie! In fact, I’mma
pair you up with him, what was his name, Bilinski? Yes, the doe-eyed one. How
old is he anyway, do they hire kids right out of kindergarten now? God, I don’t
have enough booze to cover this shit. Could be better off coaching teenagers in
a high school. Now, get out of my office!”

What a way to start a Monday.

**

“I didn’t know a beanie and a hoodie are new FBI style,”
Derek all but seethes.  

“Says a detective wearing his own initial on his belt.”

Derek follows Stilinski’s gaze to his crotch and blushes, “That’s
not … that’s not for “Hale”, it’s for “Hermes”.

“Oh, an officer who knows couture? I’m impressed!“ And then
the bastard winks.

Derek mentally punches a wall.

**

In theory, having a team of FBI agents helping you with a
case can be a good thing, because, well, they have more resources, and a much
larger database, and cooler toys. On practice though, it is a giant pain in the
ass, mainly because Derek hates his new partner.

Well, no, Derek doesn’t hate him, it’s Derek’s balls that
hate him. The brat (what kind of a name is Stiles Stilinski anyway?) is not
just cute and smart and knows how to make killer lattes, he is also obnoxious
and flirts with Derek all the time, and has an obscene mouth and fingers Derek
can’t even look at, because those long dexterous fingers do things to Derek, and at this point Derek’s balls are not just
blue, they are pitch black and about to fall off.

Derek might have ripped several bedsheets with his erection
and may or may not have considered billing Stilinski for them.

He decides against it, and instead chooses to channel his
frustration into anger and into being a dick.

That doesn’t help.

In fact, it just makes things worse. The more frustrated and
angry Derek gets, the flirtier Stiles becomes. It’s ridiculous, like trying to
put out a fire by throwing gasoline at it.

Finally, frustration boils over and Derek all but slams the
younger man into a wall while no one’s looking. He gets into Stiles’s face,
pointing an accusational finger at him like a gun, and tells him all he thinks
about flowers, handcuff hearts, chocolates, winks, air kisses and all other
crap Stilinski has been pulling on him since day one. He has enough, he doesn’t
like it, he doesn’t want it, and …

Derek is surprised to see how hurt Stiles looks. He expects anything from a sucker punch to a
fist to his face, but Stiles just whispers liar
and leaves.

Derek would’ve preferred a sucker punch.

**

I’m such an idiot!

Derek cusses himself while camaro slithers through empty
streets. What a shitty detective is he if he can’t recognize a genuine crush
over a prank? Worse even, Stiles is right- he is a liar. He should be sucking
Stiles off right now instead of going back to an empty loft.

His self-loathing is cut short by a truck ramming into his
side.

**

Derek loses track of time after about a week. After all, it
is hard to tell day from night when you are lying semi-conscious in a
windowless basement.

Well, if it is how Derek goes out, so be it, he can’t cheat
death forever. He wishes he could cheat it long enough to tell Stiles he likes
him though. May be even loves him. But, with Hale luck ™ , he likely won’t even
have a chance to say good bye.

He hears his captors chatting near the cell, clanking tools.
Oh, another round of torture, how
terrific.

And then something
goes wrong, there are screams and shouting and gunfire and the cell door busts
open and it’s actually Stiles, his Stiles,
hair disheveled, with stubble and dark circles under his eyes, and he looks livid.  Derek tries to scream, to warn Stiles one of
the terrorists is launching at him from behind but Stiles just grabs the man and
breaks his neck without even looking because his eyes never leave Derek’s face.

Derek would probably coming all over himself now if not for
the extensive blood loss.

**

Stiles drags him out through fire and dead bodies and drops
him into an ambulance before Derek gets a chance to say thank you.

**

When Derek comes back, things are different. Stiles is still
friendly and cooperative but now he is, for a lack of a better word, professional. No winks, no kissy faces,
no more trying to sit on Derek’s lap – only business. Basically, this is
everything Derek had asked for.

And Derek wants to scream.

When Captain Finstock calls him to his office and tells him,
“I don’t know what the hell you did, Hale, but you better fix it soon, because
your lovers spat is freaking me out”,  Derek
realizes how royally he screwed up.

**

It takes a mind of a genius and a healthy dose of gay juju
to properly apologize to Stiles, and Derek now owes a case of champagne to Dr.
Martin and a new Prada wallet to Danny from cyber crime, but sleepy warm Stiles
is cuddling him in his bed, so all of that was totally worth it.

Stiles nuzzles Derek’s neck and mumbles, “I can hear you
thinking.”

Derek smiles, kisses him and goes back to sleep.