A/N: Ta da! More! Thanks for the great comments on the opening! It's nice to write something sweet, with only some mild angst. Plus the eventual smut should be fun. Let me know what you think!


Of course Stiles' Dad was home. Of course he was. It was after dark on a Friday night, after dinnertime, and, despite being the Sheriff again, Stiles' dad had been trying to be home more often, which had been much more doable ever since the whole kanima mess got settled.

So, of course he was home now, which meant Stiles had to explain where he'd been as well as who he was with, something he still wasn't entirely sure how to go about right up until the moment when he walked up to his house with 16-year-old Derek close behind him…and his dad opened the door with a stern look of 'Where the hell have you been?'

His dad's sharp blue eyes darted almost immediately to Derek but returned stubbornly to settle on Stiles. "Weren't you supposed to come straight home after lacrosse practice?"

Stiles' dad wasn't always so overprotective, but considering Stiles had been attacked at the police station, showed up constantly at murder scenes, and had recently been 'beaten up by rival lacrosse players', the Sheriff had gotten a little antsier about Stiles being out late.

"It's like…nine o'clock," Stiles shrugged, even though that didn't actually answer the question.

His dad's gaze softened and he returned his attention to Derek. He held the door open wider and stretched out a hand. "Pleased to meet you, son. You're…"

"Joe," Stiles jumped in on Derek's behalf, thinking of Joe too-hot-to-not-somehow-be-one-of-Derek's-long-lost-relatives Manganiello. At least Derek didn't look at all ruffled by the Sheriff's sudden appearance.

Derek also looked less like he was swimming in his clothing, since Stiles had stashed the leather jacket and Derek's too-large T-shirt in the back of his jeep and gave Derek his 'Stud Muffin' T-shirt instead. It had been stuffed into the bottom of Stiles' lacrosse bag but didn't smell too well-worn. Well…not to Stiles.

Stiles felt a sudden wave of sympathy for Derek and his awesome smelling abilities.

"Uh, yeah…this is Joe, Dad. He started at school this week, and we…sort of lost track of time at Scott's after practice. I meant to call. Is it okay if he spends the night? We, uhh…wanted to hang out again tomorrow."

The Sheriff's expression softened further, friendly now, but there was still something decidedly calculating about it, which Stiles hoped didn't lead to him realizing why Derek probably looked really familiar. "I suppose that's alright. Can I talk with your parents to confirm it's okay with them?"

Panic slammed into Stiles as if he'd been tackled by Boyd.

But Derek, to his extreme credit, didn't even offer a flash of grief at the mention of his parents. He kept his smile and shrugged apologetically. "Actually, sir, that's why Stiles offered for me to stay. I live with my uncle, but he's out of town on business this week. He made sure I was settled at school before he left, but…it's kind of lonely in the house alone. I figured I'd be spending the weekend in front of the TV before Stiles asked me over. Is it okay?"

Damn.

Stiles was reminded of that time Derek wooed the officer at the police station, only this time without any of the flirting part. Just an honest smile, pleading eyes, an innocent little sag to his shoulders…

Apparently, Derek had always been a good liar. Then Stiles realized…it was a lie wrapped up in some pretty heavy truth, so of course it sounded sincere.

Stiles turned on his own puppy pout and shrugged Derek's direction when his dad looked at him. The combined efforts were far more than the Sheriff was prepared to handle tonight, it seemed, and he soon stepped back to let them into the house.

"Of course you can stay. But I'll want to talk with your uncle the first chance he gets once he's back in town, just to make sure you boys haven't been up to anything you shouldn't be. Not that I don't trust you, kiddo, but…" his dad's eyes turned away, filled with that familiar regret that he wasn't there for Stiles enough, even though Stiles felt much more like he was the absent one lately.

"I know, Dad, it's fine. A lesser man would have grounded me ages ago," he grinned.

The Sheriff shook his head but smiled back. "There's actually some groceries in the house, for once, if you boys are hungry. I'm pretty beat, so don't be surprised if you find me passed out on the sofa pretty soon. Nice to meet you, Joe," he added, looking Derek over again. Then his brow furrowed. "Boy, I feel like I've seen you somewhere before. You just moved to town? Have you been to Beacon Hills before?"

Again, Derek didn't falter for a second. "Sure, especially over the last few months getting everything settled. My uncle and I have been around town a few times."

The Sheriff nodded, seemingly convinced by this answer, and that the reason Derek looked so familiar was obviously because he had seen him on the street or in a store or…somewhere.

Suspicion left his eyes in exchange for acceptance, just as Erica had predicted, and he excused himself to the living room so the boys could raid the kitchen.

Stiles sighed in relief as he went for the fridge. He was starving.

"Joe?" Derek whispered, suddenly right there close at Stiles' side.

Stiles shuddered at the natural heat Derek radiated. "Uhh…yeah. He's an actor you remind me of. Well…older you. I'll force a random episode of True Blood on you so you can see. It's worth it just for him. Though you'll have to forgive that he plays one of those lame werewolves that aren't really werewolves."

"Just turns into a wolf?"

"Yep."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Who came up with that copout?"

A swell of…well, Stiles would probably say it was a swell of admiration, because he didn't want to admit it might be a swell of love, even if he was totally loving this side of Derek.

Stiles had long ago dealt with the fact that Derek revved his engine, which was totally normal, considering how freaking hot the guy was, and—up until now—he had completely come to terms with the fact that he still probably had a better chance with Lydia, and she and Jackson were practically engaged.

Not that Stiles had ever honestly considered trying anything with Derek. He simply acknowledged that Derek was hot and that said hotness got him…hot. His thought process on Derek Hale had never really gone beyond that: hot, smug, and dangerous.

At least it never used to.

Stiles shook his head to clear all those traitorous thoughts away. "So…sandwich?"

Together, Derek and Stiles managed to make a couple sandwiches each, stole a bag of chips and a few sodas, and then headed upstairs, noting that the Sheriff was indeed already passed out asleep with one of those late night talk shows playing on mute in the background. Stiles didn't have the heart to wake him just yet.

Stiles was off in full rant mode about how rare it was that they actually had real food in the house, so he didn't notice at first how stunned and silent Derek became upon entering the bedroom. It wasn't until Stiles had shoved his keyboard aside and plopped down at his desk to eat that he looked over and saw Derek staring in awe around the room.

Derek set his own spoils on the floor as he settled in front of Stiles' bookshelf—the one filled to the brim with comic books and everything on werewolves Stiles had managed to smuggle out of the local and school libraries. He pulled out the large role-playing game handbook Werewolf: The Apocalypse and looked at Stiles with a smirk.

"Okay, that one was just for fun. But some of those I thought might actually be useful," Stiles defended. "My more up-to-date stuff, with real facts, and a list of the things that are 100% bullshit, are all on my computer, but…that stuff's fun for light reading."

"Even though most of it is crap?" Derek chuckled. Then his eyes brightened as he snatched up the DVD for Van Helsing. "Oh, I love this one!"

Now Stiles had to chuckle. He set his half-eaten sandwich aside and slipped from his desk chair to join Derek on the floor. "For its accuracy?"

Derek all-out laughed. "The look! This has got to be my favorite fictional look for werewolves ever. Hugh Jackman just looks so big, black-furred, badass Alpha when he's a werewolf. It's as close to accurate as I've ever seen and, you know…Hugh Jackman. Kate Beckingsale's pretty hot too."

Stiles' admiration for young Derek was growing exponentially, especially since he wasn't sure if Derek meant that Kate Beckingsale being hot was also a reason to like the movie, or that Kate Beckingsale was also hot, as in…High Jackman was hot. Which he so was, Stiles just had never expected Derek Hale to say that.

Derek didn't notice Stiles' mild brain aneurism since he was carefully placing the DVD back on the crowded shelf. "Plus I've always kinda wondered if there were vampires out there, but Laura always rolls her eyes at me when I ask about other supernatural creatures. Dad would probably just get mad."

This admission brought Stiles back to reality and he had to frown.

"He just…really wants everyone to stay safe," Derek said upon noticing Stiles' expression. "So, he likes things being low-key. That's why the house is built in the woods, so we can still do…wolf stuff without people seeing. I still go—went—to regular school and everything. I have—had—regular friends…" He shrugged, deflating as he realized that everything he said needed to be in past tense now. "Well…Laura was sort of my best friend. And all the rest were…human members of the pack around my age. We all stuck together. Even though not everyone was strictly family, you know?"

Stiles wanted to place a caring hand on Derek's shoulder or something, but he wasn't quite sure how to go about it. He still didn't really know Derek all that well, young or otherwise.

So he pulled on a smile and said, "That's how we are too. For the most part, everyone kind of ends up at the den together. Scott's mom and some other friends of ours are the only ones who know everything. Isaac…he lives with you since his dad…died. But Scott goes home, Jackson's parents are loaded, and Erica's mom isn't so bad, though Boyd…well, I guess 'neglected' would be the right word there, so he sticks around you most of the time too. You picked good people who need you, it just…took us awhile to get the right pack dynamic going. I think we almost have it down now. We don't all live in one house, but we're a team, with wolves and humans on our side, and even some understanding hunters. Sort of."

Derek looked understandably wary at the mention of hunters.

"It's an uneasy truce," Stiles shrugged, "but we'll take what we can get. Plus there's Deaton. The local Vet. You said he's a…a Watcher, or something?"

"A Watcher?" Derek's eyes brightened. "That's good. I don't know much about them, but they look out for packs."

Stiles nodded. "He's saved our asses plenty. Only…he sort of went missing after the witch showed up. We've been a little worried." Stiles had to kick himself that with every bit of seemingly good news there was always something equally crappy.

Except the pack itself, because they really were working. The biggest thing holding them back, in all honesty, was usually Derek. Older Derek, who just wouldn't open up and trust any of them nearly as much as he needed to for the whole 'pack' thing to work.

Stiles looked at younger Derek and smiled.

Derek smiled back at him—and wow, was Stiles so never going to get used to that. "So…the other humans in the pack. How do they fit in?"

"Oh, well…Alison is sort of Scott's girlfriend. I say 'sort of' because she's also the local hunter's daughter, and there have been issues, but…things are getting better there."

Stiles decided that the last thing he was going to mention was that Derek had accidentally started Alison's mother down the road to suicide—not that Stiles really mourned the loss of that psycho.

"Then there's Lydia. She's with…Jackson. She's unique. Peter bit her, but nothing happened. She's immune to anything supernatural. We're still trying to figure out if we can use that to our advantage somehow." Which would be really helpful, but Stiles still wasn't sure if that was even possible. "Then there's kind of Danny, Jackson's best friend, who's also on the lacrosse team with a bunch of us, but he doesn't actually know anything. He just tends to get messed up in all of it, and he's a good guy. Considering the boy he was crushing on turned out to be a serial killer, he could probably use some lovin' about now."

"What about you?"

Stiles faltered, unable to think of anything at first other than whether or not he 'needed some lovin'. Then it dawned on him what Derek was really asking. "Oh…I…I'm not with anyone. I'm here because of Scott. Not…because…gross. He's my best friend. I was there when he got bit and…it's sort of been a joint venture."

Derek nodded, and Stiles couldn't tell if he looked confused by all of the information being thrown at him or just…relieved and happy.

"Hey, wanna see something crazy?" Stiles reached around Derek toward the row of comics for his first installment of Captain America: Man and Wolf. He had all seven issues.

"Does that say…'Capwolf'?"

"Indeed it does."

"Oh my god." Derek proceeded to gently take the issue before rapidly flipping through it.

"Just wait 'til we get to Marvel Zombies, dude," Stiles beamed, especially since Scott never appreciated his comic book collection. "One of the endings of that deals with werewolves too."

Derek groaned somewhere between frustration and pleasure. "That doesn't start coming out until December for me. Is it awesome?"

"SO awesome. The Ash cameo nearly killed me."

"Ash…like Army of Darkness, Necronomicon, Ash?"

"In all his Bruce Campbell perfection. He tricks the Necronomicon into helping him because otherwise the Marvel zombies will eat it, which is total bullshit! It's freaking amazing!" Stiles reached for the first issue of that series and handed it over to Derek as well, which seemed to immediately trump Capwolf.

Considering Stiles had been ten years old when those comics started coming out, he had spent weeks convincing his dad to let him start collecting them. Apparently, zombies and rampant mutilation weren't seen as good content for growing boys. Who knew?

They laughed together as Derek read more carefully through issue #1 of Marvel Zombies, and Stiles promised he could borrow the rest, or just read them whenever he wanted—which of course made him wonder if older Derek would even care once they turned him back. Stiles quickly pushed that thought from his mind.

It was easy to forget how late it was getting, considering they had eaten dinner at 9PM and Stiles had gone down to send his dad off to real bed about 11PM. But, well after midnight, they were still mulling over comic books, Stiles' horrible werewolf lore collection, and some truly epic movies, some of which Derek HAD to see, especially if older Derek hadn't seen them yet either.

Who in their right mind hadn't ever seen Airplane!?

All the while, a shadow of doubt ached in Stiles' chest, because normal broody Derek would never be this carefree and relaxed—or admit what a huge geek he was—but time and again Stiles chose to shake it off. For now, he had a very awesome Derek to hang out with, and he wasn't about to think about inevitably losing that.

Stiles checked his phone, realizing that he hadn't heard anything from Scott, or anyone else for that matter, but there were no messages waiting for him. He was practically falling over asleep on the floor, he was so tired, something he hadn't realized until he bothered to pull his attention away from Derek.

He promptly sent Scott a message to check in when he could, because they were going to bed now and would just have to deal with everything in the morning. Stiles mentioned as much to Derek, who agreed, and then Stiles crawled over to the bed to pull out his sleeping bag and extra pillows from underneath. Older Derek had used that bedding before, a time or two, holed up in Stiles' room on the run from the police. Young Derek sniffed the air, immediately able to tell, it seemed, since he cocked his head at Stiles.

"Oh, uhh…long story," Stiles shrugged. "You've crashed here before, is all."

Derek just smiled, but something in his eyes told Stiles that he was a bit anxious about the arrangements.

"Hey, no worries. You've been through a lot today," Stiles said, as he began to lay the bedding out on the floor. "You can take the bed. Half the time, I fall asleep at my desk, anyway."

"No, you don't have to do that." Derek reached out and gently grabbed Stiles wrist, which almost caused Stiles to drop the pillow he was holding, since Derek's skin was so strangely…soft. "Can't we just…I mean, if it's not too weird for you, can we…maybe…share?" He blinked luminous hazel eyes at Stiles that looked like a perfect swirl of blue and green and bronze.

Stiles stared at Derek, then down at the sleeping bag, wondering how they could ever both fit in it. He realized what Derek actually meant with a bit of start.

"It's just…sometimes…if something bad or intense happens…there's always someone from the pack to..." Derek shrugged, slowly releasing Stiles' wrist as he seemed to collapse in on himself, weighed down by the reality of everything that had happened.

Stiles swallowed, because something about this other version of Derek made his throat go dry. He tossed the extra pillow onto the bed. "Someone to…snuggle with?" he said with a crooked smile.

Derek chuckled quietly. "Yeah. Laura. Dad. Peter."

Stiles tried not to shiver at the mention of Peter, and the image of him snuggled up with Derek.

Derek shrugged again. "Sometimes my friends too. And…you're pack, so…so we're friends, and I just thought…maybe I'd sleep better if…" He trailed and looked away, a flash of grief crossing his face that was so strong, Stiles was reminded of the older Derek and all that pain he carried around with him all the time.

"Hey, it's cool. I don't mind," Stiles said, leaving the sleeping bag crumpled on the floor. "Some of the other wolves are really…touchy feely with each other, like, all the time, so I shouldn't be surprised, just…"

"You're not used to it from the older me," Derek said, and it wasn't a question. He looked too solemn for Stiles' liking but, at the same time, Stiles did like that younger Derek was a bit disappointed in his older self for all the times Stiles had to say…that just isn't who you are anymore.

Stiles was glad that he always kept an extra toothbrush around, which Derek was also grateful for, but he couldn't seem to stop blushing when they were changing for bed, even though their eyes weren't anywhere near each other. Stiles had offered Derek a pair of shorts and a fresh T-shirt to sleep in, and the whole time Stiles just kept thinking of that day when Derek was trying on his shirts in front of Danny, all of which were so small it was…well, quite the show.

At the time, Stiles had thought it was funny, because of course he recognized how hot Derek was, or he wouldn't have come up with the ploy to enlist Danny's help in the first place, but it seemed different now when there wasn't any ruse or game to this, and it was just the two of them—about to share a bed.

Stiles' shirts fit Derek perfectly now.

By the time they were slipping under the covers, Stiles was so tired, he was overtired, which meant he would be sitting up awhile before he actually fell asleep. It didn't help that his heart rate skyrocketed against his control the second Derek snuggled in close to him with an arm thrown over his waist, their legs touching, and Derek's face pressing into Stiles' neck.

"Is this okay?" Derek asked, since he could probably hear Stiles' heartbeat like a marching band base drum. "You just…" he took a deep breath beneath Stiles' ear, "…smell like…home. I can't really explain it, but…I feel calmer, being close to you."

Wow. Stiles wondered if that was true of older Derek too, but then he remembered how many times Derek had yelled at him and slammed him into hard surfaces, and figured the answer was probably no.

Derek rested his head on Stiles' shoulder. "Stiles?"

"Uhh…uh, yeah, it's okay. I was just cold, and you're so warm, so it's…giving me goosebumps." Which was totally true, so at least Derek couldn't catch him in a lie.

"Yeah…wolves generate a lot of heat. My normal temperature is like…101."

Stiles nodded, unsure of what else to say. He forced himself to relax into that heat, which really did feel nice, and let his hand come up to rest on Derek's back. He rubbed in small, light circles, feeling himself lulled to sleep already by Derek's breathing, and warmth, and the way he seemed to be…purring.

There was a brief moment when Stiles felt Derek's breath hitch, and he wondered if Derek was going to start crying again, so he tightened his hold and turned his head in toward Derek's hair, which smelled like mint from older Derek's hair gel.

Derek clung to him tightly for a moment, but soon calmed, his breath evening out in small puffs against Stiles' skin.

"So…humans aren't excluded in the whole…pack snuggling thing, huh?" Stiles whispered.

Derek nuzzled his nose against Stiles' neck. "Not the important ones."

tbc...


Next...there be a puppy pile. :-) And if you don't know who Joe Manganiello is, or haven't seen the awesome video of him and Tyler Hoechlin hugging, you really need to look that up. :-)