Gambling Debts 10/?
A/N The self-harm warning is for this chapter and the next one. If you're concerned about this, please read the note at the end of this chapter for more details.
Chapter 10
It had been almost two weeks since Derek had made the deal with Stiles and so far everything went very well. For the first time in forever Derek felt well rested and he couldn't remember the last time he'd gone hungry. The last bit was a lie, he had gone hungry almost two weeks ago, but it felt longer. Almost like it had been in a different life.
He and Stiles went along well and Derek had to say that he really liked the younger man. Not in the same way Stiles liked him but Stiles never let his feelings for Derek get in the way and they spent time together aside from their jobs as often as they could.
However, there were two things Derek hadn't anticipated when he'd signed the contract.
The first thing was how well the rumors worked. The first few days nobody in the casino had known where Derek had come from or what to do with him but now everybody knew him at least from sight. And not everybody took into consideration that he was a werewolf and could hear them talking behind his back. Or they didn't care.
Once or twice he heard one of those Mr. Grey comments Stiles had mentioned but now they were directed at him as well. Maids blushed when he ran into them, most of them had seen Stiles' playroom, others were talking about how wrong and disgusting the whole arrangement was while at the same time they wondered what kind of assistance Derek had to provide when they were alone in Stiles' suite. Some even openly regretted that he was a werewolf so they couldn't see him limping in the morning.
Derek did his best to ignore all of that, most of them didn't acknowledge his existence most of the time anyway, but it was harder to shrug off than expected.
But there were incidents like with one of the IT guys that just got to Derek. He knew the guy a little better than the others due to all the computer work he was doing recently. During a coffee break the guy started a friendly conversation just to fish for information about him, Stiles and the infamous playroom. He didn't even try to be subtle.
Derek turned on his heel and left him standing there with his mug of coffee but an hour later Derek needed some information from him so he had to go back and pretend that their earlier encounter never happened. Thankfully the guy didn't bring it up again.
Derek tried to keep his stoic mask, as if all that didn't bother him, but it got under his skin and he couldn't just shake it off.
The other thing Derek hadn't anticipated was how much he missed Peter. Not as a person or even as his alpha but as another werewolf. Peter had never been affectionate but as a werewolf he had the same needs as Derek. They never had pack cuddles and watched a movie together with their shoulders touching but there had always been a pat here or a touch there. Never enough to satisfy his wolf part completely but enough for Peter and him to get by.
Now, aside from the occasional handshake, Derek hadn't touched another person in almost two weeks. What made it even worse was the fact that he was living with somebody who was dying to touch him but denied himself even the smallest brush of fingers when they reached for the coffee pot at the same time.
Derek got that Stiles didn't want to make this more uncomfortable for him than it already was with Stiles' arousal and longing almost constantly lingering in the air but it didn't work.
It was driving Derek nuts.
Derek tried to distract himself with work. By now everybody knew that he was Stiles' assistant and they had figured out that if they wanted Stiles to really do something, the best way was to throw it at Derek first. It was a strange combination of interacting with him and ignoring him at the same time.
However, both things made Derek think of the playroom. He had bad experiences with that but it had also helped him before. So when he knew that Stiles was sleeping, he slipped into the room just to have a look around. The atmosphere alone did help to calm him down, to ground him for a moment.
He let his fingers run over the smooth leather of the bench and he wondered what it would feel like to be strapped to it. Stiles had a nice collection of paddles and floggers. And there was even the cane Derek had seen under different circumstances leaning against the wall.
He took one of the floggers out and let the soft leather stripes run through his fingers. He wanted to feel it on his skin, needed to feel anything on his skin, but he didn't dare to try it out on himself. He feared that he wouldn't be able to stop until he had beaten himself into a crying mess and there was no way that Stiles wouldn't hear that.
Derek put the flogger back and hurried out of the room. A scalding shower had to do for now.
Wednesday was the worst. It was Stiles' day off and with that it was Derek's day off as well. Like before they spent the day in the suite and for once every talk about work was forbidden.
Stiles introduced him to his favorite games but it turned out that shooter weren't Derek's thing and in the end they played Mario Kart. According to Stiles "You can never go wrong with Mario Kart".
Derek quite enjoyed the game but his attention was more on Stiles sitting next to him on the couch than on what was happening to his character on the screen.
They were almost touching. Derek wanted to just lean in and let his shoulders bump into Stiles' but every time he made the slightest move in his direction Stiles moved out of the way. Derek wasn't even sure if he noticed what he was doing.
A few times it looked like Stiles wanted to pat his shoulder or grab his hand to take over the controller but every time he caught himself before he made contact and flinched away as if he'd been burned. The one time Derek let on that he'd noticed, Stiles blushed and mumbled a "sorry".
Over the day the waves of arousal had become stronger and Derek got that Stiles didn't want to push that on him. At the same time Derek was dying for just one touch. A hand on his, his leg pressed against Stiles', something. Anything.
Derek used the chance when they waited for their dinner to slip in the bathroom for a quick shower. He stood with his back to the closed bathroom door and tried to calm down.
Derek stripped and stepped in the shower. By running his own hands over his body he could almost convince himself that they were somebody else's. It usually was enough to take off the edge. He closed his eyes and let the water run down his body while he rubbed his own forearms.
It was only when he opened his eyes that he noticed the blood. He dropped his hands with a choked whine, claws retracting and the shallow gashes on his arms already healing. The smell of blood lingered for a moment in the air before the water washed away the last evidence.
Derek lifted his hands and stared at them for a moment. He hadn't even noticed that he'd been slicing himself up. He leaned his forehead against the cool tiles, arms slung tight around his body, shaking.
He felt like he had lived on the brink of starvation for so long, in many ways, but now he got enough sleep and he was always well fed, the only thing he didn't got enough of was this. With his other needs met, this felt even worse. If your stomach is gnarling, you don't care about a human touch.
Derek had fooled himself into believing that his deal with Stiles could work. Couldn't. Not in the long run. He had to go back to Peter.
Derek was ready to admit defeat when something else occurred to him.
Stiles wanted him.
Derek had been ready to have sex with him to pay off his uncle's debt. He could do it for this.
Decision made, Derek shut off the water and grabbed a towel. He didn't bother with his clothes and stormed out of his room with just the towel wrapped around his hips.
By now their dinner had been delivered but Derek couldn't even remember what he had ordered. His eyes were on Stiles who for once was speechless. He just gaped at him when Derek strode towards him.
"What?" He squeezed out before Derek brought their lips together. Too stunned to do anything Stiles just let him but then he caught up and started to kiss him back.
Suddenly there were hands on his bare shoulders and Derek let out a whine. Tears pricked in his eyes and he buried his face in the crook of Stiles' neck.
Stiles took advantage of the new angle and started to kiss along his neck while his hands were roaming over Derek's back. His skin was still damp from the shower which added some friction. Without thinking Derek moved forward until he had Stiles backed off to the wall so he didn't have room to move away. His chest pressed to Stiles' he held him in a tight embrace and Stiles hugged back. He was still kissing Derek and one of his legs had slipped between Derek's but Derek didn't care where this went.
Stiles' lips and hands left burning traces on his skin and Derek was sobbing in relief.
However, Stiles eventually noticed that they weren't on the same page here and with his hands on Derek's shoulders he pushed him back far enough to look him in the eye.
"Derek?"
There was no way to hide the tears but Derek tried anyway.
"Let's move over to your bed." Derek said, his voice hoarse but not in a sexy way. He tried to drag Stiles over to the bedroom but Stiles didn't budge.
"Derek, what's wrong?" He asked, bringing more distance between them. Suddenly Derek felt cold all over and it had nothing to do with the fact that he stood there in only a towel.
"You want me." Derek tried to kiss him again.
"Yeah, but you don't want me." Stiles stated.
"I changed my mind."
"Dude, it's so obvious how much you don't want this, I've no idea where to even start." His voice rose and he pushed himself off the wall to get away from Derek. "You don't owe me. You don't need to do this, you don't need to pay me back. And for sure I don't need a pity fuck from you." The last words hit Derek like a bucket of ice water.
"That's not …" He started but he had no idea what to say. His chest was tight and he couldn't even breathe properly.
How was he supposed to explain this? He didn't understand it himself.
"You're right, it's not." Stiles yelled at him as if that even made sense. "You should probably leave now." Stiles said with false calm, his eyes cold.
The words rushed over him and all Derek could do was to nod numbly. Stiles was kicking him out. He deserved it. He should have gone back to Peter. He was such an idiot.
On wobbly legs he made his way back to his room. His head was swimming and he had just enough time to think "So, this is what a panic attack feels like" before he crashed to his knees on the bathroom floor.
His vision was gray around the edges and he just couldn't breathe. His skin was too tight. He was burning and freezing and he couldn't breathe. He tried to hold on to something, anything, but even his claws didn't find any purchase.
Panic washed over him, drowning him.
Suddenly there were hands on him again.
"Derek, stop!"
A/N Derek is touch-starved and tries to feel something by rubbing his hands up and down his arms. When that isn't enough, he starts to use his claws. It's not detailed but there is mention of gashes and blood. In the end he's clawing at himself in blind panic again.
Chapter 11
Masterpost