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The world was doomed.
The human race would soon be wiped off the face of the Earth if this was the best they had to offer.
“I resent your aggressive glaring, dude. I’m here because you couldn’t get the job done.”
Dude, he said. Dude.
They were doomed.
The kid rounded the table in the most graceful stumble that Derek had ever seen. He didn’t even seem to notice, just wobbled back and forth like one of those creepy clown punching bags that popped right back up. Derek was probably gonna hate the guy just as much as he hated clowns—which was a completely reasonable amount that was not at all due to any irrational fears.
But the pack needed his help—this Stiles. They needed a human with the knowledge and skill to hack into the hunter’s mainframe and find Laura. So he managed to growl out as Stiles examined the blueprints before them. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know…,” he hummed, never looking up. Something in his eyes suggested he knew more than he was saying, however. Derek didn’t trust him. “Something dramatic, I hope.”
His shit-eating grin was directed straight at Derek. The nerves this guy seemed determined to bother were firing throughout his body, telling him to get his ass into gear. Fight, run, fuck—
Not fuck. What the fuck?
His sister was being held captive, facing god know’s what kind of torture and here he was thinking about sex?
No, he was definitely not thinking about sex. And definitely not with this… obnoxious dude-bro.
“Seriously, man. The glaring is hot and all but also super unsettling. I kinda need to focus to save your sister.”
He’d been staring… Shit. “I’m not stopping you.” That’s right, just be a dick. No one will ever see through that.
“You kind of are. At the very least you’re slowing me down with all your…” he trailed off as his hands circled in front of him, indicating… something. “Ten minutes. That’s all I ask. Lemme set up and then you can lurk over my shoulder all you want.”
“Fine,” Derek grumbled as he stomped out of the room without another glance. He could practically feel the boy gaping at his rapid retreat. Whatever. He needed air.
The terrifying grump stormed out of the room and Stiles seemed to finally take in a complete lungful of oxygen. Sure this mission was expected to be dangerous, but even a job well done couldn’t save him from a serial killer like that.
On the plus side, he now understood how serial killer fangirls felt. Not that that was really a benefit, per say, but Stiles liked to understand things. It was his curse.
He hauled out his computer but left the rest of his expensive equipment in the bag. Derek didn’t seem the type to be all that careful with other people’s things. If his practically empty apartment said anything, he didn’t seem to be a fan of “things” at all.
He did his best on a preliminary sweep, but by the time Derek returned he already knew it was useless.
“We need to get in here,” he directed Derek’s attention to a small room on the schematics.
“No.”
What?
“No, listen to me. We need to. There is no other way into their system.”
Look, Stiles got that these guys were werewolves, okay? This wasn’t his first rodeo. But they generally didn’t start growling in the middle of normal conversations.
“Fine, sour wolf, do it yourself. Good luck.” Good thing he hadn’t unpacked. Storming out would be a lot less impactful if he had to carefully pack up all his shit first.