"Don't worry!" Jordan yelled across the clearing. "I'm fireproof!"

In hindsight, Jordan found that he could safely say that this was not the most appropriate thing to say to anyone in polite company, let alone a pissed off werewolf that you barely knew. As it was, he could also say that this was the start of his and Derek's beautiful relationship.

Of course Derek on the other hand, he would describe it as the first of many times he found himself wanting to strangle his eventual boyfriend. Somehow Jordan always found himself in the center of some kind of danger. Even if he was fireproof, as he liked to remind Derek quite often, it didn't stop him from worrying about the young deputy.

It was also how Derek and Jordan eventually met Stiles and Lydia, by being on fire at the not so best moment. Or the exact right moment, depending who you asked. And that, Derek could admit, wasn't the worst thing Jordan had ever accomplished by setting himself on fire.

"You do realize, of course, that we're like our very own kick ass fairy tale come to life, right?" Stiles asked, breaking Derek out of his thoughts. The stupidly gorgeous smirk on his face made Derek's stupid heart skip a ridiculous beat.

"One written by the Grimm Brothers, maybe." Derek muttered.

Jordan grinned. Lydia smiled.

Stiles huffed in annoyance because he was Stiles and it was just what he did when Derek was involved.

"I'm being serious, dude," Stiles reiterated, rolling his eyes at the older man.

"So am I." Derek deadpanned.

"Dude, you are literally the big bad wolf or maybe the Beast! Parrish is obviously our knight in shinning armor, with the added bonus of being able to catch fire and Lydia is, of course, our very own-"

"Watch it, Stiles," Lydia interrupted, never once looking up from the manicure she was giving herself.

"-bad ass Joan of Ark type person, lady, um woman who can totally take care of herself and don't need to man to rescue her." At Lydia's approving smirk, Stiles found he could breathe a little easier.

"And yourself?" Derek asked, a smirk slowly forming on his face.

"Huh?"

"Well, if I'm the big bad wolf and Jordan is the knight in shinning armor that occasionally catches fire and Lydia is a modern day version of Joan of Ark, then what, or who, are you?"

The fact that Stiles could feel his cheeks heating and flushing what he was sure was a bright red made him wince and suddenly find the purple that Lydia was applying to her nails entirely too interesting.

"No please, do enlighten us. Just who are you in this little story?" Derek urged his boyfriend to continue.

"Derek, be nice." Jordan chastised from his place on the couch where he was braiding Lydia's hair.

"I am being nice!" Derek exclaimed. "I'm always nice." He pouted.

"Lies, Derek. All lies." Lydia muttered, chancing a look up at the oldest man in the room, and grinning at him.

"You all suck." Derek continued to pout, his arms not crossed over his chest like a petulant child not getting his way.

"I don't," Stiles started, his eyes downcast. "I don't know who I am in this story."

All at once everything stopped. You could have heard a pin drop even without Derek's enhanced hearing.

"You're all these amazing people: a werewolf, a banshee and a frigging hellhound. I'm literally nothing. Just a breakable human that somehow ended up winning the fucking lottery. The prize being you guys."

"Stiles," Lydia started, only stopping when she realized she didn't exactly know what to say.

"You don't really think that, do you? Stiles?" Jordan was quickly moving across the room, Lydia's hair left unfinished, and dropping himself down in front of his boyfriend.

Stiles shrugged.

"Well, I mean, its true. I'm not exaggerating or making it up. You guys are all awesome and perfect and okay let's be real, hot as fucking hell and I'm just me. Just Stiles."

Lydia looked close to tears while Jordan found himself entirely lost for words.

"You are a moron." Derek finally said, his eyes unblinking and locked onto Stiles.

"Derek!" Jordan hissed, his own eyes quickly narrowing as he snapped his head around at Derek's words.

"Well, he is." Derek snapped. "If he honestly thinks he's no one in this story then he's a lot dumber than I figured him to be."

"Derek Steven Hale!" Lydia yelled, her eyes wide and disbelieving.

"No, be quiet, listen to me." Derek took a quick breath and continued. "So you aren't a werewolf or a banshee or a hellhound! Who cares?! You're Stiles! Our Stiles and you don't need to be any fucking thing else! We'd be lost without you, or I know I would be! I can't cook for shit, you know that. I would probably be out in the middle of the woods, hunting for dinner if it wasn't for you. And we all know my temper would be so much worse than it is. You help keep me calm and centered, Stiles. And Lydia, god knows instead of just doing her own laundry she'd throw the things out and just buy everything new!"

"Hey!"

"Its kinda true, babe." Jordan tossed at her, a smile tugging at his lips.

Lydia huffed a small huff and agreed.

"You helped her understand what was happening to her and learn how to use her ability for good. She's only what she is today because of you. And Jordan? Fucking Jordan would still be walking around half set on fire if you hadn't come along and helped him take control over that side of himself."

"Yeah. That's true." Jordan smiled up at Stiles, his hand gripping the younger mans own hand tightly.

"You take care of us, Stiles. You worry about us and you-you love us and fuck you if you don't realize that we love you too, you little asshole!" Derek snapped, his eyes flashing yellow.

It was entirely too quiet for all of about thirty seconds before Stiles finally spoke.

"The Beast."

When he received three puzzled looks in return, he explained himself.

"You're not the big bad wolf, Derek. You're totally the Beast. All hard and gruff on the outside but really you're just a hairy ball of feelings with sharp fangs." Stiles smirked as he stood, took two steps towards Derek and dropped himself down in the older mans lap. "I love you too." He said as he dipped his head down to press his lips softy against Derek's.

"Our boyfriends are hot together," Jordan said as he moved to resume braiding his girlfriends hair.

Lydia grinned and silently agreed. Of course they were. It was only fitting, after all, that Derek was the Beast in this story since Stiles was, after all, their very own Prince Charming.

End.