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Derek stifled another yawn, refusing to give Lydia another reason to glare at him. She had already given him her dagger eyes for his slightly mussed up hair, his crooked tie, his loud paper shuffling, and the spot of bird poop that had found its way onto his shiny shoes, which she had fixed with a flick of her wrist as he had walked into the room. The last thing he needed was another one of her famous glares.
Boyd, his second in command, was seated at his left. He would sometimes bump Derek's arm with his own whenever someone said something that he found particularly humorous or ridiculous. He did it as Erica Reyes, the official Apparition Examiner at the MACUSA argued loudly with Danny Mahealani, the Surveillor of Activity. "My department is not out of line!" She screeched, standing. "We take pride in the fact that we handle all students who test within the apparition limits safely and securely, and we uphold the purpose statement of the Congress, along with our own department. Do not mess with me, Mahealani. I know what I'm talking about."
"I'm not saying that you aren't adequate at your job, Reyes. I'm just saying that I'm concerned. And it's not only me: it's the entire Surveillance Wizarding Resources Department! We're all concerned that you are unable to completely control apparition tests. Some of these witches and wizards are apparating outside of the boundaries, and we're afraid that a no-maj might see."
"In the fucking forest mountains? Yeah, I'm also terrified that some lonely straggler will see someone magically appear in the middle of fucking Montana. No one lives there, Mahealani."
Boyd hit Derek this time, and Derek realized this was also his realm and he needed to speak up. "As the Director of Magical Security and Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I understand Mr. Mahealani's concerns. My department, however, is not interested in attacking other departments that obviously have their systems under control. We see no problems with the current apparition system and we support Ms. Reyes's methods."
A lithe figure on the other side of the large table the entire Magical Congress of the United States of America was sitting at stood up, eyes burning into Derek even from across the room. The figure wasn't angry, though, just demanded attention. "While Mr. Hale may not be concerned about getting Wizarding world being exposed from the current apparition standards, The Body for Protection of Magical Species is, in fact, concerned about it. We have found that 10 percent of our Bicorn population resides in the mountains and forests of Montana, which pertains to all of us. A horn from a Bicorn is necessary for polyjuice potion, and if a lonesome apparator happens upon one and kills it, that could continue to happen and eventually cause them to be endangered or even extinct! Right now they are on our warning list, we cannot take the risk of them dying out." The man who just finished talking is pale, with long fingers and spotty moles and everything Derek finds both attractive and infuriating in a man. He shamelessly cannot tear his eyes away.
"None of my students have even touched a Bicorn! Those things are vicious!" Erica jumps up to match Stiles's stance.
"Well then maybe you should change your apparition standards! Don't want any kids getting hurt, now do we?"
"You're so infuriating, Stilinski." She glared.
"We still need a solution," the President of MACUSA, Dr. Deaton, said calmly.
"I propose that they use the Appalachian Mountains. That was formerly our first headquarters, and therefore should be secure enough where we can get away with apparating there. Plus, the only magical creatures there are Wampus cats, and they are much too elusive for students to do anything other than grab some hairs for a wand core."
"That sounds like a fine idea, Mr. Stilinski. Consider it done. Ms. Reyes, I expect a full write-up on the new system and new place, along with the protocol you will follow pertaining to it," President Deaton said, and she glared at Stiles as she sunk back into her chair.
"Yes, sir."
Stiles sat down with a self-satisfied smirk, and Derek watched him throughout the entirety of the meeting.
--
Once they were released, they all made their way to the break room for breakfast treats. Derek found himself drawn towards Stiles, who was in an animated conversation with Lydia Martin. "They're just so amazing! I did my dissertation on their absolute thirst for magic. Did you know that they are responsible for 80 percent of sudden failures in various new electrical goods? They use electricity to satisfy their need if they can't find magic! Now tell me that's not resourceful!"
"Now what are you two discussing? It seems very interesting," Derek said, deciding to enter the conversation.
"Chizpurfles!" Stiles exclaimed, a glint in his eye. "They're quite extraordinary."
Derek wrinkled his nose. "Not those disgusting parasites. There's nothing extra nor ordinary about them."
"Now that, Director Hale, is where you are wrong."
"I stand by my disgust for the creatures."
"They are very helpful to spells and the magical environment!" Stiles argued indignantly.
Lydia rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go talk to Director Jackson. Have fun measuring your wands, boys."
She left them to their own little corner, and Stiles stopped his argument mid-word. He waggled his eyebrows. "We're getting pretty good at making people leave us alone."
"It's because you're so insufferable," Derek mumbled, surveying the room. When he decided no one was looking he reached behind Stiles and opened up the supply closet. He pushed he man I of it and followed silently. Once they were inside, Stiles flicked his wand to soundproof the room, and then immediately surged towards Derek.
"You love how insufferable I am," he murmured against Derek's lips, and the Director moaned.
"Of course I do."
Stiles pulled away and licked a stripe up Derek's neck, then began to mouth his earlobe. "I bet you were a Wampus, weren't you? A big, brave warrior." Stiles rubbed his cheek against Derek's scruff, and Derek hoisted Stiles up into his arms. Stiles's legs wrapped around him strongly, and they continued kissing filthily, Derek pressing Stiles up against the wall of the storage room.
"Were you a little Thunderbird, then? Strong and adventurous? Too curious for his own good?"
Stiles panted into Derek's mouth, his breath sweet and warm. "Bad guess. I'm a Horntail through and through."
"Hell yeah you are," Derek said, gasping as Stiles hand made its way for, his hair to the front of his pants, then slipped down to fist his cock.
"Oh god, Derek, you're so hot. You were so hot in the meeting, challenging me and Danny," he panted between kisses. "Wanted to, take you right then, and there. God, your hands," he moaned loudly, still pumping Derek's cock with vigor. "God Derek, your cock."
At Stiles's mouth moaning his name he came, shuddering into his pants. "Stiles, fuck."
"Oh yes, say my name again, say it as you kiss me," Stiles close, Derek could almost taste it.
"Stiles," he whispered, kissing him hungrily. "Fuck Stiles, you drive me crazy. You cock is so beautiful, your lips are so perfect. Wanna take you home." Derek was humping him against the wall, and Stiles could feel the wetness of his cock through both of their pants.
"Shit. Derek."
"Wanna mark you up, make you mine. Wanna take you home, not keep fucking after meetings. Fuck in a bed. Love on you. Wanna..." Derek trailed off as he breathed into Stiles's mouth with want.
"Tell me, tell me," Stiles whined.
"Wanna fuck you, wanna feel my cock inside you." He kissed Stiles for a moment. "Wanna feel your cock inside me, wanna be yours."
Stiles halted for a millisecond. "Be mine, then."
Derek looked at that man, the man who advocated for magical creatures, who loved them with all of his heart, who fiercely fought for the little guys. He was beautiful: his wide chest was rising and falling beneath his light blue dress shirt; his rose lips were parted, and his tongue darted out to wet them; his hands were gently cupping Derek's neck; his skin smelled like forests and freshwater.
He nodded quickly and earnestly. "Okay, okay." He scooped in for another kiss. "But promise me one thing."
"Anything," Stiles said distractedly, nipping at Derek's neck with his teeth and sucking love marks with his tongue.
"No Chizpurfles in the bedroom."
Stiles stopped, startled, then threw back his head in laughter. There was absolute mirth in his eyes as he wrapped his legs even tighter around Derek's waist. "No promises."