Chapter Text
“Is that The Police?” Jackson sneered the band name like it was an insult, and Derek could easily picture the scowl the brat was probably giving the phone. Sure, the Hales founded the cooperation, the Derek had to admit his own position was probably influenced by the fact that his Uncle owned the company, but he had crawled his way from the bottom. Jackson had gotten the go ahead from his Daddy when the kid was barely out of college.
“I have to go. Don’t forget to have that presentation finished by the end of the week,” Derek warned in a clipped voice. “It’ll be your ass on the line if the clients complain.”
“Yeah, I get you,” Jackson answered, voice swarming with confidence. “Just don’t let your ipod go off during the meeting, okay?” And with that the brat hanged up.
Derek put his phone back in his pocket and rubbed his face with a sigh. He had a lunch meeting in ten minutes, and the music blasting in the front of the car wasn’t doing much for his concentration of the key points he was supposed to discuss. With a flick of a button the black dividing window rolled down, and the music rang out even louder. Derek was about to bark at Scott to turn that shit off when he noticed that the voice singing along wasn’t his usual chauffeur's.
Temptation, frustration
So bad it makes him cry
The strange driver’s voice wasn’t exactly pleasing, but it wasn’t grating either. It was young, probably Scott’s age, but more energetic. The words were sung with an excitement that was usually reserved for shower heads, and it was obvious the man- though if he was Scott’s age and barely out of high school, probably more of a kid- had obviously no idea that Derek had let down the divider.
Wet bus stop, she's waiting
His car is warm and dry
The driver turned his head and went to grab something in the front seat while still singing along in obvious disregard for safe driving. The side profile revealed a pale boy, handsome in a youthful way. He seemed even younger than Scott, but that couldn’t be possible because the company didn’t higher drivers under 18. He kept right on singing, his voice bright and his smile brighter.
Don't stand! Don't stand so-
Don't stand so close to me
Derek suddenly had a thought of what the boy would look like out of his currently ill fitted suit. Perhap he could leave the hat on. And as much as Derek was enjoying the driver being in his private car, he couldn’t help but feel that it would be so much better if the kid joined him in the back of it. That was when the driver noticed that he was in clear view, and he froze like a rabbit in the eyes of a wolf. He scrambled the turn off the radio, pressing the button with jerky movements and then sitting up straight, hands at three and five.
“Sorry Mr. Hale, I didn’t realize the music was so loud,” the driver said, voice a little rough from singing.
Derek wondered if he had been reaching for a water bottle. “Where’s Scott?” he asked instead.
“He’s out getting a client. Knows the Upper East Side better than I do, so we switched for today. I hope you don’t mind, sir. It’s not exactly regulation...” The driver sounded a bit sulky, more like a child getting caught more than a man who might be fired.
Derek shrugged, but made sure his eyes were no-nonsense. “I would like to be informed when a switch is going to be made in the future. I would also like to be introduced to the man I entrust my car and life to.” He knew he was going a bit far with that line, but for some reason he wanted to watch the kid sweat.
The driver blanched, and the rearview mirror showed his eyes widen in panic. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hale! Stilinski, here to drive you to your destination, sir!”
Derek smirked at that, but quickly replaced it with his business frown. “I call Scott by his first name. I like to know those that I work with by a first name basis.” That was a lie, Scott had simply introduced himself as such and Derek had never been bothered to ask for a last name.
“Er- well, my friends call me Stiles,” the driver muttered, a bit embarrassed.
“Stiles,” Derek said, his voice clipped. He leaned forward. “Are you my driver for the rest of the day?”
Stiles fidgeted in his seat. “Yes, Mr. Hale.”
Derek smiled at that, a look that was all teeth as he took out his phone. “Excellent, because I believe I’ll be needing your services all day.”
+++
Stiles looked uncomfortable in the restaurant, which was precisely why Derek had chosen it. It was casual enough that a bit of name dropping had allowed them to reserve a table last minute, but upscale enough that the menu prices were high enough to make Stiles eyebrows shoot up.
“Um... do you think they’ll just let me have some water?” Stiles asked, taking off his hat and putting it down on his lap. He rubbed his brown hair, a few inches of growth that had been flattened. “I can’t really... I mean, no offense, but these prices are just a bit...” He bit his very pink lip in a way Derek couldn’t help but find tantalizing.
Derek lifted his gaze back to Stiles’ eyes and showed an easy going smile. “Don’t worry, it’s all on the company’s tab. Order whatever you want.” The lie slipped easily out of him, since he was sure Peter would be pretty pissed about him dumping the clients he was supposed to meet with in Isaac’s lap, much less charging a personal lunch bill to the company. But what was the point of having lackeys if he didn’t use them every once in awhile? Isaac had been working with him on the account, knew all the details. And Stiles, well, Stiles was only his driver for one day. Derek had to make the best of his time.
Stiles flicked his finger across the edge of the menu. “I mean, are you sure? I never heard of a drivers getting to eat with- I mean, I can bring back receipts if I have to work through lunch, but they have a price limit and I just don’t want Lydia barking at me for having this huge bill-”
Derek put his hand over Stiles’ as it rested on the table. “It’s fine. I’ll make sure that it’s under my name, so there’s no way you can get reprimanded. Just enjoy yourself, okay?”
“Uh... okay.” Stiles stared at where their hands were touching, then back up to Derek, then back to his menu. His ears were starting to grow pink. “Wow, look at all this food, I don’t even know where to start!” He didn’t pull his hand away.
Derek smirked as he released his hold, letting his fingers glide across the back of Stiles’ hand slowly, enjoying how the action made the driver’s shoulders tense. “Have you been driving for very long?”
“Oh, yeah, I started up with Scott a few months back. I mean, it’s not exactly what I spent four years in college for, but finding a job in New York is tough these days. Just doing this until I get on my feet, you know?” He looked up from his menu in panic. “Not that Hale Incorporated isn’t a great place to work! I mean, really, it’s a great company, I’m lucky to have been hired!”
Derek rolled his eyes. “Stiles, relax. It’s fine if you don’t want to chauffer for the rest of your life. Few people do. All that matters is that you take your job seriously while you are working of us. It’s fine if you’re aiming for something else.” He paused, growing curious. “What is it that you went for college for?”
“Oh, well, you’re probably going to think it’s dumb,” Stiles muttered, sinking a little in his seat.
“Try me.”
“Ugh, well, it’s an English degree with an emphasis on creative writing.” Stiles flinched. “Stupid move, I know.”
Yes, Derek had to agree. “No, I think it’s great that you went for something you’re passionate about. Do you want to become a novelist?”
“Uh, well, sort of...”
Derek raised a brow.
“Well, I want to write for comic books,” Stiles admitted, voice small. He still refused to look up from his menu, and his ears had turned bright red by this point. “Or video games, I guess.”
Derek had to physically stop himself from saying something blunt like, you and thousands of other waiters in New York, or, did your parents will pay thousands of dollars for you to end up as a glorified taxi driver? He had enough experience in business to know what to say, and when to say it. And if he ever wanted to see Stiles out of that suit and into his bed, he had to say just the right thing.
“D.C. or Marvel?”
Stiles face lit right up.
Luckily Derek had at least a grasp of the comic world from movies, because after that Stiles talked nonstop about it. And while he didn’t know a thing about the House of M universe, or give a flying fuck that Professor X hadn’t been resurrected yet, he smiled and nodded and added opinions where he could, no matter how half-baked they were. And Stiles didn’t seem to mind that he was the one who was doing most of the talking, because he never seemed to run out of things to say.
“I mean, the second Iron Man movie was definitely not as good as the first, but it was leagues above Thor,” Stiles went on, spearing a shrimp with his fork. “Captain America can be argued for, but I don’t know how the hell they’re going to pull off Winter Soldier, since that’s actually the name of his-”
The sound of Derek’s phone went off, cutting Stiles short. Derek gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, have to take this,” he said, standing. “Be right back.”
He didn’t answer until he was in the hallway by the bathroom, leaning against the wall as he scowled at his caller I.D., pressing to accept the call. “What do you want?”
“Oh, how cold you are to family lately, Derek,” Peter answered, playing hurt. “Especially cold of you to cancel on that client today. Last I heard you were already in the car, driving to the location. Car troubles?”
“None of your business,” Derek muttered darkly. “Isaac is taking care of it. He knows those accounts just as well as I do, he’ll do fine.”
“Yes, but he doesn’t have your position.” Peter’s voice was clipped now, to the point. “What exactly do you want me to tell them when they call to complain that I sent a department head over a VP?”
“Tell them I got sick.”
“And is that true?”
“It’s about to be.” Derek shifted the phone to his other ear. “Look, you can’t pull this alpha crap on me. If I want to cancel a lunch meeting, and I make sure someone who knows their stuff handles it for me, you have to just accept my judgement. I can’t have you berating every little thing I do.”
Peter was silent for a few choice moments before saying, “I may not be your alpha, Derek, but I am your boss. You want to play hooky, fine, but you ask me first. That’s the way the business world works. You’ve gotten cocky ever since Laura left for the San Francisco branch, and just because you’ve turned alpha doesn’t mean we’re equals in this company.” His voice turned sharp, like the edge of a hunter’s blade. “I will be respected.”
Derek knew when he had pushed too far. “Okay, look, I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to send them a gift with a personal letter making up for it, okay? Handwritten by me and everything.”
“Good. Don’t think your betas can do all your work for you.” A pause. “And just what is the actual reason for not attending? You’re eating lunch anyway, not even that far away from the meeting.”
Derek inwardly cursed that someone ever decided that a cell phone needed a GPS. “None of your fucking business.” He hanged up, concentrating on holding back his strength. He didn’t need another cracked screen.
Stiles must have sensed something was off, because he frowned when he saw Derek’s face. “Wow, bad news or something? Did somebody else cancel on you?”
Derek considered this. He hadn’t really had any appointments scheduled for today, just some paperwork that could definitely wait to be handled tomorrow. “Actually, yeah. That’s exactly what happened.” He made sure to catch Stiles’ eye. “Looks like I’m free for the rest of the day.”
“Oh...” Stiles looked away, grabbing the dessert menu off the table. “Did you want to get something else? We could split something if you wanted. Anything you wanted to have?”
“Actually,” Derek answered, not taking his eyes off Stiles face, “there is.”
+++
Stiles’ mouth tasted like alfredo sauce and shrimp. It was soft, with cupid bow lips and a needy tongue. For all that Derek had penned him for a naive college grad stuck in the big city, Stiles really did know how to kiss with a good deal of finesse. It was obvious that Derek wasn’t the only one to know what Stiles’ lips felt like.
It wasn’t exactly a pleasing thought. Derek could admit one of his flaws was being somewhat... possessive.
So perhaps the thought of Stiles kissing another man made his hands dig tighter into the kid’s hips, nip a bit harder at his lower lip. No matter. Derek was the only who had Stiles in his lap now, and that was the important thing. And, really, what good was a company car if not for plenty of space for-
Well, all kinds of things, and Derek was just unsure of which one he wanted to start with.
“Mr. Hale,” Stiles panted into the air as Derek began to bite and lick at his pale neck.
A growl. “Call me Derek.” Mr. Hale was his father, his uncle, one title short from his sister. Things he didn’t need to be reminded of right at this moment.
“Yeah, okay. Derek.” Stiles reached down and unzipped his pants, slowly, obviously knowing that Derek was watching the movement. “You are going to help me cum, or just lap at my neck all afternoon?”
Derek chuckled as he undid another of Stiles’ cream buttons, revealing a tantalizing piece of collarbone. “What’s the rush? Can’t I be allowed to enjoy my dessert slowly?” He lapped along the exposed piece of flesh.
“Yeah, slow? Not exactly what I had in mind for the backseat of a car.” Stiles’ grin was all cock and no modesty. “But I suppose you’re the boss.”
Derek bit into Stiles’ shoulder as he rubbed his hand along Stiles’ hard cock, indecently stretching the fabric of his boxer-briefs.
Stiles let out a satisfied hiss. “Yeah, that’s it. Come on, throw out your cock too.” He licked his lips, his hands clenching into the back of Derek’s jacket. “I want to see it, fuck, I’ve wanted to see it since I saw who I was driving today.”
A dry chuckle. “Wish I could give you a better look,” he muttered as he went to kiss Stiles again, a clash of teeth and tongue, all wild aggression that needed something soon, something now. He finished unbuttoning the white undershirt, pushing it off pale shoulders and letting it fall to the car floor. “Though I have to say I’m pretty pleased from my viewpoint.”
Stiles started unbuttoning Derek’s shirt too, only to have his hands stopped. “Dude, what the hell?” He started to, honest-to-god, pout. It really shouldn’t have been as adorable as it was. “Why am I the only one who gets to put on a show?”
“Later.” In one swift move Derek pulled down Stiles’ underwear and began to stroke his cock, grinning at the way Stiles’ moaned. He buried his head into Stiles’ neck, gnawing lightly, enjoying every vibration of pleasure as he continued to stroke.
Stiles was quick to reciprocate. Derek couldn’t help but love that, love the confidence in Stiles’ steady fingers as he began to stroke up and down, the movements strong and sure. “Fuck,” Stiles panted between heavy breaths. “Do you have some lotion or something? We’re gonna chafe soon. Or...” Stiles grin was more than just a bit wicked as he stared into Derek’s eyes, shining amber with no hints of hesitation. “We can change position a bit...”
Derek liked to think that he was, at this point, experienced with proposals of all types, and he immediately had no hesitation in accepting this one. It was a bit cramped as he laid across the seat, his legs bent at an odd angle to allow Stiles access to his cock. His fingers dug into Stiles’ knees as he leaned forward to lick along the Stiles’ shaft, feeling the tension in Stiles legs as he struggling to stay on all fours in the cramped location of the backseat. Stiles shivered as Derek began to bob his head in a slow rhythm. It was a greedy action, all take and no tease, all heat and sloppy tongue work, and from scent alone Derek knew Stiles loved every minute of it.
“God, I’m so fucking glad we did this in the company car. So much more room.” Stiles stopped talking to run his tongue up and down Derek’s dick, allowing the tip of his tongue to skid along the skin. He teased the tip just to hear the whine at the back of Derek’s throat, allowing the cock head to rub teasingly between his lips before starting the process over again.
At this rate it was hard to tell who would give out first. It might seem Derek would last longer, but there was something skillful in the way Stiles flicked his tongue that made the man’s spine curl. And though Stiles was given full range to fuck Derek’s mouth, he appeared to be holding himself back, letting Derek do all of the work to make the moment last.
“I haven’t tasted cock in months,” Stiles said between licks. “Not since my ex fucked me over.”
Derek growled, the vibrations skidding across Stiles’ cock in a way that made him cry out, no shyness, no embarrassment lacing his voice as he let Derek know just how much he liked that.
“You’re the jealous type, huh?” Stiles asked conversationally between heated breaths as he allowed more saliva to pool on his tongue. “He used to love making me go on my knees, suck on his cock. Why I’m so good now, I guess.”
Derek’s grip on Stiles’ hips tightened, sharp nails digging in. He had to reign back though, physically stop himself from letting claws come out, to scratch, to take. Stiles cried out again, this time in pain just as much as ecstasy. The knowledge that it was Derek, it was his possessive pain that sent pools of heat into Stiles’ gut, was enough to make him want to come right then and there.
“Besides,” Stiles mused, making sure to break the sentence off with a long swipe of his tongue, “There’s nothing to be jealous of. I’ve never found a cock as wonderful to suck on as yours.” His teeth lightly skidded over the tip.
Lights flashed in Derek’s vision as he came, his hips pulsing forward, growling deeply, and his vibrating throat was enough to send Stiles over the edge as well. He caught Stiles’ salty release in his mouth, loving every drop of it, sucking until Stiles’ was soft. Stiles was evidently pleased to do the same.
Derek immediately began to sit up, pulling Stiles into a more comfortable position of sitting in his lap, leaning against the side of the car wall as he stretched out his cramped legs. Stiles laid against him, panting and sated, a pleased grin plastered on his face.
“Good thing you don’t have any more appointments,” Stiles muttered. “I don’t think I’ll be good to drive for awhile.”
Derek kissed his neck softly. “‘S fine. I can drive us back to the company if you want. And then it’s a pretty short walk to my car.”
Stiles tensed, his shoulders taut. Derek kissed them gently, urging them to relax once more, to press against his chest. Perhaps that had been the wrong thing to say. Too soon, but when was Derek going to get a chance like this again? Scott would be driving him starting tomorrow.
Eventually Stiles did relax, leaned back with only a little hesitation. “Fine, but we’re ordering out tonight then. I’m thinking chinese. The waiter at that last restaurant was horrible.”
Derek didn’t even try to hide his victorious grin as he flexed his fingers on Stiles’ waist. He wondered how good those pale hips would look with bruises, signs of Derek, possessive marks that no one but he would be allowed to see. “Only if I’m allowed my dessert of choice.”