Like it or Not

Put together

Derek leaned back against the inside of his now closed door. His head spun just enough to have him regretting that last glass or two of wine. He silently thanked whoever was listening that his mouth hadn't gotten him in trouble. Alcohol tended to make him too honest, something he was deathly afraid of being around Stiles and Elijah.

He took in a deep breath before pushing off the door and heading to his room. He pulled at his tie and slipped out of his jacket. He ignored the ringing of his phone as he laid them across the chair in the corner of his room.

As he passed the full-length mirror across the room, he paused. He looked so put together, even despite his state of undress. His hair sat exactly as he'd styled it that morning. His shirt barely had a wrinkle, even his pants were in pristine shape. You couldn't even tell he'd been drinking just by looking at him.

A sigh passed his lips. He wished he were as put together on the inside as he appeared to be on the outside.

The chime of his phone finally pulled his attention from his reflection. A voicemail from Alaric.

With hesitation he pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hey, it's me. I was just calling to make sure you weren't laying at the bottom of a bottle of jack or worse, in bed with Elijah."

Derek flinched. He didn't blame Alaric for thinking so low of his self-control.

There was a pause on the other end before Alaric continued.

"I just wanted to see how today went. Give me a call."

Derek pushed down the regret that welled inside him. He knew he should call Alaric, but he'd hear the wine on his voice and that wasn't something he wanted to deal with. Not tonight.

-

When Derek finally laid down in bed after showering off the day's events, the effects of the wine had mostly diminished. His vision no longer lagged, and his head was no longer swimming.

A gentle ping on his phone made Derek groan. He was half a second away from throwing his phone out the window.

He debated ignoring it, but the second ping was the final straw. He snatched the phone ready to turn it off when he paused.

Stiles' name lit up the top.

Derek opened the messages.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that tonight. I promise no more dinners or one on one time with Elijah outside of work."

Derek felt a tiny smile pull at his lips. When he wanted to be, Stiles could be very sweet. It was no wonder the team loved him so much.

The second message read, "We still meeting for Coffee in the morning?"

Derek's heart attempted to climb through his throat. He forgot about meeting for coffee before work. They were meant to do couply things.

"Meet you there at seven thirty," he typed back. At least the alcohol would be completely gone from his system by then.

-

Mornings weren't usually an issue for Derek. Did he like them? No. Did he hate them? No. Did he hate this morning? More than anything.

His head ached, reminding him just how long it had been since he'd been wine drunk. He hadn't slept well, his mind riddled with dreams of him saying and doing stupid things at dinner.

Stress, he had to remind himself. The therapist he'd seen briefly after the breakup had told him the recurring dreams reliving stressful moments in terrible ways were because he wasn't coping with his stress. And no, a bottle of whiskey was not a coping mechanism.