Title: Companion (read hooker) for the Night
Rating: R
Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski
Word Count: 827
Warnings: miscommunication, misconstrued identity
Summary: Derek is looking to arrest a hooker. He happens upon a gorgeous young man on a street corner.
Notes: An idea that came to me. I had to write it. There will be at least one more part, possibly more than that if it all works out.
Derek smirks to himself as he sees the boy leaning against the corner, a lit cigarette in his hands. "Finally found one, Sheriff."
"Well, pick him up and remember, you can't arrest him until he tells you how much you owe him, whether it's before or after."
"Wait. I might actually have to have sex with this kid? Sheriff, he barely looks eighteen. Okay, honestly, he doesn't look eighteen."
"Do it. Maybe you'll luck out and he'll ask you to pay before he sucks you off or you fuck him." The sheriff laughs a little.
Derek nods and pulls up to the corner, rolling down his window. He smirks at the kid, turning down his radio. "Hey, think you could help me? I'm kind of lost."
"Oh?" The kid lifts an eyebrow and Derek can't help but notice the smattering of moles across his face and neck. His eyes are the colour of good, aged whiskey and his hair is a dark brown, sticking up all over the place. Derek's stunned to find himself actually attracted to this boy who's obviously selling himself. "And what do you think I can do for you?"
"Thought maybe you could tell me how to get to the nearest motel?"
The boy smiles, eyes lighting up with it. "Oh yeah? I'm sure I can help you out with that." He flicks his cigarette aside and walks around the car, climbing into the passenger seat. "I'm Stiles."
"Derek," Derek says, smiling and waiting for the list of prices. When Stiles doesn't say anything, he smiles and drives towards the nearest cheap motel he can find.
A couple of hours later, Derek stares up at the ceiling, gasping for breath. He and Stiles have gone several rounds and the kid is just... magic. He looks over at Stiles and smiles. "What are we doing?"
"I'm done, dude. Seriously, you wore my ass out." Stiles smirks and climbs off the bed, grabbing his clothes. "It was... fun."
"Yeah. I didn't expect it to be fun." Derek licks his lips and props himself up on his elbows. "So..."
"Oh. Right." Stiles blushes as he tugs on his underwear and jeans, then his tank top. "Uhm. How much?"
"You tell me." Derek raises one eyebrow. He's so confused now. Don't whores usually know what they charge their clients?
"How would I know? I've never done this before. You're the expert here, man." Stiles pulls out his wallet and Derek frowns.
"Wait. Hold on. What? I'm your first John?"
"John? What the fuck are you talking about dude? I thought you said your name was Derek?"
"No." Then it occurs to Derek. There's no way anyone that responsive and enthusiastic is a whore. He's dealt with a lot of whores in his line of work and none of them were that wide eyed and innocent. "You're not a hooker?"
"Me?" Stiles squeaks out, eyes going wide. "You think I'm a hooker? Dude, you're the one who... picked me up. Jesus fuck. My dad is going to die laughing when I tell him this one."
"Why would you tell your dad someone picked you up thinking you were a hooker?"
"My dad's the sheriff. He's always telling me how much trouble I am..." Stiles giggles and starts for the door. "Seriously, Derek, this was fun. I'll see you around."
Derek's face drops and his eyes widen and he chases after Stiles. "You said your name was Stiles!"
"It is. Geez, dude, what's wrong?"
"You're not the Sheriff's son!"
"Uh, yeah. Born and raised by John Stilinski. Stiles Stilinski at your service... oh my god, Officer Hale!" Stiles blushes and ducks his head. "Shit. Oh shit. Dad's gonna kill us both."
"No. No. No!" Derek shakes his head and drags Stiles back into the room. "The Sheriff's son is named Lechosław," Derek says, mangling the pronunciation.
"And that would be why I go by Stiles. No one but my dad, mom and grandparents have ever been able to say my name properly. I can barely say it properly."
"Shit."
"Yeah." Stiles shrugs. "It's fine. We just won't say anything. Seriously dude, I need to go. I'm late to meeting my best friend."
"You can't... You can't just run off. They're expecting me to bring in a hooker."
"And if you falsely arrest me, my dad is going to have your balls for lunch. Which, I mean, I thought they were pretty tasty, but they look a lot better on you than they would on his plate."
Derek frowns. "What am I supposed to tell them?"
"Tell them that you were such a good lay, the hooker didn't charge you." Stiles yanks his arm from Derek's grasp and shakes his head. "I don't care. Goodbye, Derek." He turns on his heel and runs from the motel. Derek groans and flops down on the bed, debating never moving. He's going to be in so much trouble when the Sheriff finds out.
tbc
Rating: R
Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski
Word Count: 827
Warnings: miscommunication, misconstrued identity
Summary: Derek is looking to arrest a hooker. He happens upon a gorgeous young man on a street corner.
Notes: An idea that came to me. I had to write it. There will be at least one more part, possibly more than that if it all works out.
Derek smirks to himself as he sees the boy leaning against the corner, a lit cigarette in his hands. "Finally found one, Sheriff."
"Well, pick him up and remember, you can't arrest him until he tells you how much you owe him, whether it's before or after."
"Wait. I might actually have to have sex with this kid? Sheriff, he barely looks eighteen. Okay, honestly, he doesn't look eighteen."
"Do it. Maybe you'll luck out and he'll ask you to pay before he sucks you off or you fuck him." The sheriff laughs a little.
Derek nods and pulls up to the corner, rolling down his window. He smirks at the kid, turning down his radio. "Hey, think you could help me? I'm kind of lost."
"Oh?" The kid lifts an eyebrow and Derek can't help but notice the smattering of moles across his face and neck. His eyes are the colour of good, aged whiskey and his hair is a dark brown, sticking up all over the place. Derek's stunned to find himself actually attracted to this boy who's obviously selling himself. "And what do you think I can do for you?"
"Thought maybe you could tell me how to get to the nearest motel?"
The boy smiles, eyes lighting up with it. "Oh yeah? I'm sure I can help you out with that." He flicks his cigarette aside and walks around the car, climbing into the passenger seat. "I'm Stiles."
"Derek," Derek says, smiling and waiting for the list of prices. When Stiles doesn't say anything, he smiles and drives towards the nearest cheap motel he can find.
A couple of hours later, Derek stares up at the ceiling, gasping for breath. He and Stiles have gone several rounds and the kid is just... magic. He looks over at Stiles and smiles. "What are we doing?"
"I'm done, dude. Seriously, you wore my ass out." Stiles smirks and climbs off the bed, grabbing his clothes. "It was... fun."
"Yeah. I didn't expect it to be fun." Derek licks his lips and props himself up on his elbows. "So..."
"Oh. Right." Stiles blushes as he tugs on his underwear and jeans, then his tank top. "Uhm. How much?"
"You tell me." Derek raises one eyebrow. He's so confused now. Don't whores usually know what they charge their clients?
"How would I know? I've never done this before. You're the expert here, man." Stiles pulls out his wallet and Derek frowns.
"Wait. Hold on. What? I'm your first John?"
"John? What the fuck are you talking about dude? I thought you said your name was Derek?"
"No." Then it occurs to Derek. There's no way anyone that responsive and enthusiastic is a whore. He's dealt with a lot of whores in his line of work and none of them were that wide eyed and innocent. "You're not a hooker?"
"Me?" Stiles squeaks out, eyes going wide. "You think I'm a hooker? Dude, you're the one who... picked me up. Jesus fuck. My dad is going to die laughing when I tell him this one."
"Why would you tell your dad someone picked you up thinking you were a hooker?"
"My dad's the sheriff. He's always telling me how much trouble I am..." Stiles giggles and starts for the door. "Seriously, Derek, this was fun. I'll see you around."
Derek's face drops and his eyes widen and he chases after Stiles. "You said your name was Stiles!"
"It is. Geez, dude, what's wrong?"
"You're not the Sheriff's son!"
"Uh, yeah. Born and raised by John Stilinski. Stiles Stilinski at your service... oh my god, Officer Hale!" Stiles blushes and ducks his head. "Shit. Oh shit. Dad's gonna kill us both."
"No. No. No!" Derek shakes his head and drags Stiles back into the room. "The Sheriff's son is named Lechosław," Derek says, mangling the pronunciation.
"And that would be why I go by Stiles. No one but my dad, mom and grandparents have ever been able to say my name properly. I can barely say it properly."
"Shit."
"Yeah." Stiles shrugs. "It's fine. We just won't say anything. Seriously dude, I need to go. I'm late to meeting my best friend."
"You can't... You can't just run off. They're expecting me to bring in a hooker."
"And if you falsely arrest me, my dad is going to have your balls for lunch. Which, I mean, I thought they were pretty tasty, but they look a lot better on you than they would on his plate."
Derek frowns. "What am I supposed to tell them?"
"Tell them that you were such a good lay, the hooker didn't charge you." Stiles yanks his arm from Derek's grasp and shakes his head. "I don't care. Goodbye, Derek." He turns on his heel and runs from the motel. Derek groans and flops down on the bed, debating never moving. He's going to be in so much trouble when the Sheriff finds out.
tbc