Sterek Library (a03 Edition)

Hot Single Dad Derek Hale

By: WhoNatural on a03

Work Text:

Derek is coming off a three-day flu stint when he finally lurches blearily into the office, smoothie in hand, sunglasses blessedly dimming Lydia’s idea of carte-blanche aesthetic.

If that’s even a thing.

There’s a person lounging across one of the sectionals, instantly making it all look untidy, tapping at his phone and loudly sucking on the complimentary mints perpetually laid out on the glass coffee table.

“Holy hangover, man,” the guy says before he can sneak by, crinkling his forehead. He gives Derek a pointed once-over without pausing in typing, and one corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. His eyes are.... arresting--- the color of bourbon. Derek stops.

It’s 8:30 in the morning and he suddenly wishes he weren’t the kind of person who keeps a suit in his car that he changes into at work. His hair is still sticking up on one side - he knows this because he can see his dulled reflection in the glass outer wall of Lydia’s office - and there may or may not be finger paint on his cheek.

Then he remembers why he is that kind of person and frowns, clutching his drink closer like some kind of barrier.

“Hope whatever’s in there is virgin.”

Derek blinks down at the sparkly princess cup he’d reached for in caffeine-free delirium. “Kale is a super food,” he says intelligently. Sectional-guy looks happily bewildered, and Derek attempts to form a better sentence before they’re interrupted by his business partner.

“Stiles,” Lydia says, appearing out of nowhere in the same fashion that makes their interns scurry around in a state of constant alert. ‘Stiles’ simply swings his head back on the couch and blinks at her. “Ready for you.” She notices Derek and smiles warmly. “All better?”

“Think so,” Derek says, then clears his throat to break up the roughness of his voice. He’s fucking exhausted. “She’s with Cora today.”

Stiles is standing now, hands stuffed in his pockets and glancing between them. “Lyds,” he says, and makes some kind of raised-eyebrow-jerk at Derek with his chin.

Lydia just says, “No.”

There’s a long moment where some kind of unspoken conversation happens with their eyes, and Lydia’s narrow, then flit to the ceiling for strength. “Stiles, Derek, Derek Stiles,” she sighs. “Derek’s my partner. He was the original backer for the house when I came up with the business plan.”

“Good to meet you,” he says, remembering basic manners and holding out his hand. Stiles trips on the corner of one of Lydia’s artisan rugs in his quest to shake it. “And Stiles is...?”

“Coming with me,” she announces firmly and grabs the guy by the elbow, yanking him towards her office. Derek’s left standing there as they go inside - hand still held out in the air like an idiot - and watches as the door closes. A heated conversation takes place inside; there’s a lot of head-shaking from Lydia and gesturing from Stiles, and the last thing Derek sees before she activates the smart glass is a cheeky waggle of eyebrows, followed by a grin at him.

Derek pushes a flustered hand into his hair. He blames his exhausted mind on the fact that the first thing he said to the most attractive man he’s seen in months was about fucking kale, and the only word he can come up with to describe his current feeling is charmed.

Derek is charmed by him.

You are so easy, he tells himself.

___