Failure to Appear
Title: Failure To Appear
Summary: All human AU set in the future. Derek is a bounty hunter & Stiles failed to appear on his court date. Derek accepts the job of tracking down Stiles; despite their history together.
Warnings: None
Rating: Mature
Chapters: 8/?
Notes: No beta, so mistakes are mine as per usual.
PS AO3
Chapters 1| 2| 3| 4| 5| 6| 7|
-
“On the bright side, we’re not dead. On the not so bright side, we’re still stuck” Stiles babbled on.
“Shut up Stiles, I’m begging you” Derek pleaded. They’ve been tied to their respective trees for the past half an hour or so, without much success of getting free. Stiles, in typical Stiles fashion had talked non-stop, his defence from nervousness, actually his defence for anything. Stiles always figured if he kept talking, he’d confuse people and they’d forget why they were mad at him, or why he hadn’t handed in his homework in school. It usually worked too, just not on his dad, or Derek apparently.
The sun had long since set, darkness upon them, and the stars trying to shine through the trees. Where Stiles tried to get free by pulling him arms as far apart as they could where bound, like he were the Hulk about to break free, Derek’s rubbed his hands up and down the tree bark trying to weaken the rope by the friction from the bark. Derek’s tactic fared much better as he felt the rope fall to the ground his arms now free.
Derek rose to his feet; he rubbed his hands over the faint bruises along his wrist from the rope. He dusted the dirt of his jeans (though it wasn’t much use) and stretched his legs. He saw Stiles as he still struggled to get free.
“Care to help a soon to be ex-husband out?” Stiles quipped. “Hey where the hell are you going?”
-
Derek wasn’t actually going to ditch Stiles, as much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t. But he really needed a piss, and while they used to pee in front of each other when they were both in their little en suite bathroom when they were married getting ready for work, now? Now just seemed a little creepy to unzip and piss in front of your ex. He walked a few feet away, behind a group of bushes all the while Stiles yelled after him.
After Derek peed he walked a little farther off trying to catch his bearings. It was too dark, and everything looked the same he couldn’t be sure which direction Adahy and the other men had gone. It was still nice to be able to stretch his legs after having been stuck and tied to a tree - which reminded him, Stiles. He begrudgingly followed the howls coming from Stiles, calling him an “asshole, you little bitch; I’ll take you for everything you’re worth.” And that, that definitely caught Derek’s attention.
“Take me for everything I’m worth?” Derek came around the group of bushes in the line of sight of Stiles, who was still secured to the tree.
“Well it got your attention didn’t it? Not that there’s much I could take from you, except maybe a spare toothbrush.”
Derek froze when the words from Stiles hit him and echoed in his ears. Spare toothbrush. It took him a few seconds to realise that Stiles would have seen Simon’s toothbrush in his apartment when he went to the bathroom. A few seconds later he snapped back to his indifferent stature and crossed his arms.
“You can’t afford a toothbrush and you live in that fancy place?” Derek sneered. “Maybe if you didn’t throw money away on every new gadget that comes out.”
“Excuse me for wanting the finer things in life” Stiles shot back. “I do work hard for what I want.”
“That’s pretty evident” Derek snorted to hide the hurt. Stiles didn’t want Derek, because if he did - Stiles would have worked harder, tried more. Derek walked around to the back of the tree where Stiles’ hands were still tied, tugging on the rope until it loosened and fell to the ground, freeing Stiles’ hands.
“Thanks” Stiles mumbled rubbing his hands over his wrists, they were pretty sore from the amount of tugging and pulling he did. Much like Derek, Stiles rose to stretch his legs then ran to hide behind a bush to take a piss. At least he managed not to piss his pants; he could only imagine what Derek would say to that.
“I say we start heading back” Stiles announced as he came around the tree zipping his pants up.
“Didn’t you hear what they said, it’s not safe” Derek sighed. He’d dumped what Adahy had given them in their packs, which wasn’t much in terms of survival tactics.
“Please” Stiles admonished. “They were probably just trying to scare us.”
“You want to head back, by all means go. Get yourself caught in yet another trap. It’s dark out Stiles, we have one measly, no fancy GPS - what do you expect to do?”
“Aren’t you some survivalist?” Stiles accused. “Shouldn’t you be able to use the stars and lead the way, sniff us home or something cave man?”
“I swear if you don’t shut up I will kill you, and feed you to whatever animals are out here” Derek grunted.
-
Stiles held up his hands in surrender. His ex was after all an ex-cop, and way stronger than Stiles. Derek could kill Stiles and hide the body in this never ending forest and no one would be none the wiser. He probably should have told someone where he was going - too late now. Besides, one night? They could totally do it; they were going to do that back at their campsite initially - although at least there they had a tent.
He walked to where Derek had dumped out the contents of their packs to take a look at what good old Adahy had left them. If it weren’t for the stars shining through the trees they’d pretty much be in the dark - but through the dim lighting of the stars Stiles saw a bottle of water each, a sleeping bag, a blanket, their beef jerky they bought at the camping store, a flashlight and some rocks.
“What the actual fuck? Rocks? To kill each other or what?” Stiles asked puzzled.
“They just wanted to weigh down the bags I guess” Derek shrugged.
“Pure evilness I tell you” Stiles snorted.
-
Despite it being July and the dead of summer, there was a cool breeze that only strengthened with the amount of trees around. It wasn’t as hot as it would be if they were in the city, instead it was a lot cooler. Normally it would have been nice, if they had proper clothing and proper sleeping arrangements.
Stiles dumped what little tree branches he could find to try and build a fire before Derek shoved him aside muttering something about burning down the whole forest. Derek found a decent sized rock that he jammed into the earth repeatedly digging a hole. Every time Stiles tried to ask what Derek was doing, Derek bore a deadly glare in Stiles’ direction until he shut up. Once Derek was satisfied with the hole he’d dug about 6 inches in diameter he dumped the branches Stiles had found into the pit of the hole and attempted to start a fire.
“You know you can start a fire with a condom?” Stiles asked.
“Do you have a condom on you?” Derek snapped.
“Well I figured you’d have some” Stiles scoffed.
“Only you would know how to start a fire with a fucking condom. No other use for all those condoms?”
“I’ll have you know -” Stiles started but quickly shut his mouth. He didn’t need to stoop to Derek’s level and make it known that he does in fact have reason to use condoms.
“Right” Derek snorted.
Stiles sat quietly sulking to himself as he watched in quite awe as Derek took the battery out of their lone flashlight and grabbed something Stiles had missed out of the pile of their collective belongings they’d dumped out. Derek worked efficiently rubbing the material he’d grabbed over the terminals of the battery. It started to spark and he dropped into their little hole as it caught fire on the twigs and branches, a fire starting.
“Impressive” Stiles mused, because okay it was.
-
They sat close to the fire pit on either side facing each other. They didn’t have anything else to eat besides the beef jerky which they divvied up. Derek dug into his and finished it off quickly while Stiles made faces as he took small bites and chasing it down with water. He hated that stuff. After he got through about half of his first piece of jerky, he gave up and handed them over to Derek.
Derek asked if he was sure and when Stiles said there was no way he would ever going to be able to digest it, Derek nodded his thanks and polished Stiles’ share of jerky off in seconds. Hopefully it would be enough to get them through the night and however long they were going to be stuck here.
If they didn’t manage to find their way back to Adahy and the tribe, Derek had no idea if they’d come looking for Stiles and him, or just not care. He didn’t voice his concern to Stiles, either because Stiles would worry or brush it off, he wasn’t sure.
“It’s pretty neat seeing the stars this bright. You’d never see this in the city, not even in Beacon Hills” Stiles noted as he leaned back on his palms looking up at the sky.
“Because of all the city lights.”
“I know that” Stiles said. “I’m just saying, it’s nice.”
“It is” Derek relented.
“How come you never took me camping?” Stiles teased.
“Like you would have gone” Derek huffed. “Besides, you were always too busy working.”
“So were you!”
“I only picked up double shifts because you were always working. What was I supposed to do sit around at home?”
“Well I only worked so much because you were picking up double shifts” Stiles countered.
With that logic neither of them were going to get their point across, it would only end up them going back and forth bickering.
“My Dad totally takes your side by the way” Stiles pouted.
“I know.”
“You still talk to my dad?!” Stiles screeched.
“He calls me from time to time” Derek shrugged. “He misses you.”
-
Derek will admit there’s not a lot to do. He’s not much of a TV watcher when he’s at home, he doesn’t even own a laptop, only using a computer when he’s at work. He prefers to read, or do something, anything with his hands, work on little projects, take something apart just to rebuild it. Being stuck in a forest, with no books, anything to take apart aside from their lonesome flashlight which won’t provide much entertainment is just plain boring. Derek will gladly accept one of those tiny black and white TV’s with an antenna that sticks up in the air with three channels.
The difference between Derek and Stiles though, is Derek can sit still - or rather lay still. He’s sprawled out on top of the one sleeping bag that had been packed for them staring up at the sky, nodding off every few minutes. Stiles on the other hand, is still sitting by the fire muttering to himself everything he’s witnessed so far - as if that’s some sort of memorisation tactic since he doesn’t have any pen and paper to write, or a tape recorder. He’s not just muttering to himself, he’s also trying to build a house out of twigs - snapping some every few minutes, complaining even more when it topples over. He starts it all over again.
Since Adahy had been just so darn kinds to pack some food, a flash light hell even some steel wool he wonders if he slipped in a herb that can knock Stiles the fuck out, at least for a few hours. That was just plain wishful thinking though, and Derek knew it.
-
The fire soon dwindled out and Stiles huffed, got up and kicked Derek right in the ribs where he’d been sleeping. Stiles watched as Derek startled, about to laugh only to notice he was flat on his ass. Derek hadn’t realised it was Stiles and grabbed at his ankle, tugging until Stiles fell on the ground - and that was going to leave a bruise.
“Jesus dude, it’s just me!” Stiles wailed as he kicked Derek yet again this time in the thigh - because hey it worked out so well in the first place.
“What the fuck was that for?” Derek growled as he shoved Stiles’ foot away from him.
“I’m tired.”
Derek pursed his lips together, let out a breath of air as if he were seriously contemplating killing Stiles right there - laws be damned.
“And it’s cold” Stiles added. “One sleeping bag…” he trailed off.
“Should have kept the fire going” Derek shrugged. He kicked his boots off, unzipped the sleeping bag and got in, ignoring Stiles.
“And who said you get the sleeping bag?” Stiles whined. “I’ll flip you for it.”
Derek flipped his middle finger up at Stiles and started to zip the sleeping bag up around him. It’s not like they even had any coins to flip - idiot.
“No. No, no, no!” Stiles hissed he stilled Derek’s hand that was trying to zip up the sleeping bag. “You’ve been a major fuck face this whole weekend. First you, charge me just so you don’t haul my ass into jail right away. Second, you tackle me to the ground, even though we’re on the same fucking team. Third, well third you’re just a big major, I don’t know, asshole? Words fail me and I’m too tired for this bullshit. But No, you don’t get the sleeping bag. Out.”
Derek stared at Stiles for a few seconds before he finally spoke.
“If that’s your plan on how to get the sleeping bag I suggest you re-strategize. Insults don’t help.”
He still unzipped the sleeping bag completely until it looked like a large blanket and manoeuvred it so he was still partially lying on the fabric but there was now more that could accommodate another person. They’d have to lie partially on the ground, but it was better than trying to squish in one sleeping bag - no thank you.
Stiles eyed Derek warily like this were a bad idea but he didn’t really have any other options so he scooted in under the makeshift blanket yet still tried to stay as far away from Derek as he could.
-
“Okay, I’m wide awake now” Stiles murmured minutes later. His body was functioning way faster than his brain and right now it was hyperaware that he was lying next to his ex-husband. Sure, they had slept in close quarters last night - but it was a bit more terrifying being stuck in mesh netting. Although sleeping on the ground should be terrifying in its own - who knew what sort of animals were lurking out there right now, poised to attack when they dozed off.
“I was asleep just perfectly before some dumbass kicked me in the ribs” Derek muttered.
Stiles sighed as he flipped over on his stomach shoving his arm under their makeshift pillow which was just their backpacks as he tried to get comfortable. Soon after he realised that wasn’t comfortable enough and starts shifting again until he elbowed Derek square in the jaw.
“Stiles” Derek barked, he bolted straight up, rubbed at his jaw and shoved Stiles’ on his back his palms on Stiles’ chest. “Quit, moving” he enunciated.
“I’m - I… sorry?” Stiles said - and he didn’t know why he was flustered all of a sudden.
“Why’s your heart beating so fast?” Derek asked he tilted his head to the side. Even through the fabric of Stiles’ shirt he could feel the constant staccato of Stiles’ heartbeat. It’s not like he even threatened Stiles or shoved him that hard - he shouldn’t be scared.
“It’s not” Stiles tried even though he knew it was no use, he felt like his heart was going to jump out whether through his chest or his throat he didn’t know.
Derek narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything, nodded his head and started to remove his hand. Stiles surged forward - unaware of what he was even doing himself - and practically face planted into Derek. It wasn’t quite precise as Stiles’ lips made contact with the side of Derek’s mouth but it didn’t matter he placed a kiss, moving his mouth the last few centimetres until their mouths were sealed and Stiles just kept kissing.
-
Derek didn’t open up straight away - startled at the turn of events, thrown off balance. He felt Stiles’ lips on the corner of his mouth then moving towards his until their lips slotted together - like all the hundreds, thousands of times they’d done it before. He felt Stiles grip at his shirt as he pulled Derek closer and Derek found himself opening his mouth only fractionally - but that’s all Stiles’ needed and took the opportunity to dart his tongue out, ran it along Derek’s lips and into his mouth.
Derek doesn’t know whether it was him or Stiles that let out a desperate whining noise - it didn’t matter because Stiles pushed until Derek was flat on his ass and Stiles moved right along with Derek never breaking apart until he straddled Derek.
Derek needed to stop this, his brain kept flashing stop, stop, stop over and over again. He was even ready to push Stiles’ away, break their mouths apart until Stiles ran his hand down Derek’s chest. It’s not like he was even touching skin, but his hand - so familiar yet so foreign that Derek blanked. He just wanted to remember, even if it were just one last time. He never got a last time - not really, he didn’t know it then, that that was their last time. This time, this time he had a chance to know, this was it.
So he let Stiles run his hand down his chest, slip it under the hem of Derek’s shirt and run it up and down Derek’s abs. This time, Derek knew for certain it was him who let out a whine and it seemed to work because Stiles took that as a keep going. He ran his fingers along the top of Derek’s jeans and Derek took that as his opportunity to sit up a little straighter, pull away - only to fumble to get Stiles’ shirt off, then his own. He leaned back on his palms as Stiles’ went to work on unbuttoning Derek’s belt and zipper on his jeans.
Stiles undid the zipper on his own jeans but made no effort to take them off. He instead worked awkwardly at trying to get Derek’s jeans down a little, Derek putting his weight on his palms, he lifted his hips and Stiles pulled the jeans and his boxers down.
Derek shivered as the cold air hit him but the coolness soon replaced by Stiles’ hand - as it gripped Derek’s cock and started to stroke it to hardness - and that just made Derek shiver all over again, but for a completely different reason.
Stiles worked on Derek’s cock, a firm grip from the base to the head - he watched mesmerised as the head of Derek’s cock disappeared under his foreskin as he pulled forward and returning as he stroked back down to the base. It’s been a long time since he’s done this, seen this.
He scooted backwards as he pushed Derek’s legs apart and settled himself in. His grip firm on the base of Derek’s dick, he licked his lips and let it trace over his lips, he felt Derek try and buck his hips at the contact. Stiles relented, opened his mouth and ran his tongue along the crown before he sucked just the tip. Now it was Stiles’ turn to moan with the head of Derek’s cock in his mouth because doesn’t that just bring up old, fantastic memories. He focuses on taking more into his mouth, as much as he can while his other hand traced over Derek’s balls. He runs his tongue along the familiar veins that run the length of Derek’s cock - Stiles swears he can remember each and every one of them.
-
Derek’s give up on trying to steady himself on the palm of his hands, instead leaned back bracing himself on his forearms as he subtly tries to thrust his cock further into Stiles’ mouth. He tries to chase away the images of Simon and the way he goes down on Derek because that’s nothing compared to Stiles and the way his mouth and tongue work. From day on Stiles had been eager and loved Derek’s cock - it was after all the first one he’d seen in a sexual capacity other than his own, he’d said as much. Stiles always went on that no other cock would be as amazing not that he’d ever know because they’d be together.
Derek then had to chase away that thought because they weren’t together. But they were here and now, and right now Stiles was licking at his balls taking them into his mouth and sucking and that was enough to make Derek forget about anything else.
Derek gripped at Stiles’ neck trying to get his attention and when Stiles lifted his head he had a string of spit dripping from his lips and Derek couldn’t help but moan at the sight. He pulled at Stiles to get closer as Stiles gracelessly shifted his jeans and boxers down. Stiles inched closer, lining up his cock with Derek’s and let a drop of spit slip down onto where their cocks were together and wrapped his hands around them both.
Derek batted his hand away and wrapped his large rough hands around them both and Stiles can’t help the groan that escaped - because that feels even better than his own hand. It’s been his own hand for too damn long. He meant to let Derek jerk them off, but he can’t help his hips as they give little aborted thrusts and he finds himself thrusting his cock with Derek’s hand around his them, his cock sliding over Derek’s and it’s too much, he knows soon enough it’ll be over.
Derek placed a hand on Stiles’ hips stilling his thrusts - as much as it feels good, and as much as Stiles looks perfect; his eyes closed, a small smile on his face as he keeps licking his lips, Derek wants to feel them. He keeps his grip on Stiles’ hips and starts to stroke them. He grips harder, twists his wrists and runs his thumb over the tip of his cock and he knows he’s done for.
His stomach clenches, tingling running up his spine as his legs start to shake and he bites down a groan as he starts to come, feeling it spill onto his hand running down his and Stiles’ cocks. That seems to be enough for Stiles because after a few more strokes from Derek his hips give one final thrust and he’s coming, over their cocks and onto Derek’s shirt.
Stiles seemed to be a little dazed like he doesn’t realise what just happened, sort of just slumped on Derek, unable to move - typical Stiles. Derek grabs the sleeping bag, using a corner to wipe away the drying cum that’s covering their cocks and he unsuccessfully tries to get the come stuck to his shirt off but only manages to rub it more in. At least, it’s not like Derek wore designer clothes.
Eventually Stiles comes back to the land of the living, out of his daze tumbling off of Derek as they both pull their boxers back fully on and laying down. It certainly doesn’t take long for either of them to fall asleep suddenly exhausted.
Chapter 9|