Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this work of fiction. I don't even own the strays. I am making no profit, monetary or otherwise, through the writing of this.
A/N: Inspired by the following writing prompt, given to my by a friend, "character A keeps bringing strays home, how does character B react?" I believe that it is from the OTP prompt post on tumblr, which I am not very savvy at navigating.
The first stray that Stiles brings home is a puppy.
It's not cute.
It's not fluffy.
Looks like it's just a breath away from being considered road kill, but Derek doesn't have the heart to say anything about it. Lets Stiles keep it, nurse it back to health. Hoping that, once it's better, they'll find a home for it.
Over time, the puppy starts to resemble a puppy rather than a patchy bit of fur that Stiles found by the side of the road.
It eventually gets a name. Fluffy.
Learns how to snuggle.
Stops smelling like skunk and death.
Starts to take over Derek's half of the bed, wedging itself between the boy and the wolf.
The next stray that Stiles brings home is not a puppy.
Derek has no idea what the bit of fur and teeth and nails is for a full week and a half. Tries not to poke and prod it, because it would upset Stiles.
Tries to ignore the foul stench that emanates from it. A cross between Stiles' sweaty gym socks and dead 'possum.
Tries not to cast what Stiles calls his 'alpha eyes' in the creature's direction for fear of pushing it over the thin bridge of mortality that it's clearly dangling off of.
Tries not to growl at the little spitfire when it finally starts to take shape and inserts itself on the pillow between him and Stiles.
It's a cat. A helpless kitten, according to Stiles, but Derek knows better. It's a minion of hell, and Derek's got the scratch marks to prove it.
It, too, gets a name. Eventually. He and Stiles argue over it, and in the end, Stiles wins, but Derek secretly calls,Muffin, Little Hellion, hopes that Stiles won't find out about it, because he would never hear the end of it.
When Stiles brings yet another stray home, Derek decides that it's time to put his foot down, to declare their home, such as it is, a stray-free zone.
One look at the sad, blue eyes, matched with the severely malnourished body, and Derek's a goner.
He can't turn it away.
Wouldn't if he could.
He ignores the smug look on Stiles' face. Refuses to coddle the emaciated creature, pretends that one it was one of the others – Isaac – who's handfed the pathetic looking beast.
Doesn't mind when the young she wolf sprawls across his side of the bed, laying a paw on his shoulder.
She finally gets a name.
After much consideration, and weeks of careful deliberation.
Indigo.
When Stiles comes home, shoulders hunched, clutching his next woeful stray to his chest, Derek doesn't comment, doesn't stick his nose in the air to 'sniff'.
Knows that soon, it too, will have a name, a place on their bed.
Doesn't mind, because, in the end, he loves Stiles, and if taking care of the strays makes Stiles happy, well, then it makes him happy too.
Though, Derek reasons that if Stiles keeps it up, they're going to have to get a bigger bed.
Please, review, feed the strays. Let me know if you like this, give me hope and love.