Summary: Stiles gets Derek home, and into his bed… But it's not how it sounds, even though the Sheriff thinks otherwise.

Stiles isn't completely sure how he's done it, but he's gotten the wolf into his Jeep and gotten him home. He has trouble getting him up the stairs to his room, but gets it after a few tries. Now he has Derek in his bathroom, trying to clean him off before be passes out again. The older teen tells him that he feels tired again, and to just let him be, but Stiles won't have it. He wants him rid of the blood and dirt, and they'll figure out what to do later. He cleans him off as best he can and now has a shirtless Derek into his bed. He moves away from him for less than sixty seconds to get one of his bigger shirts, and he's passed out again. But he's actually sleeping this time, so it's easier on the younger teen's mind. He takes the shirt over and sits on the edge of the bed, debating on what to do. He doesn't want his Dad to find Derek in his room, but if he does, he would rather not have him shirtless. Right? He bites his lip and looks back at the wolf, then at the shirt in his hands. Damn it.

He crawls up the bed and haphazardly straddles Derek's hips, looking at him slumped against his headboard. Moving closer, he grabs him by his shoulders and starts to get his shirt on. He manages to wake the older teen up about halfway, but Derek still won't help him out - asshole wolf - insistent for him to just stop caring. So he leans against Stiles and lets his head lay on his shoulder while Stiles tries to make him put clothes on.

"Hey, Stiles, do you think you could—?" Sheriff Stilinski opens his son's bedroom door, and is caught with the sight of his little boy in another boy's lap. Stiles turns his head and his eyes widen, hands freezing on the lower buttons of the shirt he's putting on Derek. The wolf buries his face in Stiles' neck, hiding it from the kid's father.

"D-Dad… This isn't what it looks like." Stiles tries to get up, but the wolf weakly holds him in place by hands on his hips, with everything he has left.

Does Dad know him? Christ, what if he does? It would be bad for both of us. Stiles thinks as Derek grips to him. The Sheriff, on the other hand, just wants to know what's going on.

"…I'm getting my gun." He says and swiftly leaves the room, causing Stiles to almost yelp in horror. He pushes Derek away from him and cringes slightly as his head hits the headboard with an unsettling thump, and the wolf looks up at him with half hooded and tired eyes.

"What the hell was that about, huh? Now my dad's gonna kill you! You have to hide, o-or leave." The younger teen moves away from him, off the bed, urging him to get up.

"Stiles, I can't feel my legs." Derek says softly, actually trying to pull himself up, but after enough animal tranquilizers - that have double dosing time releases - to put down two full grown moose, he's in trouble. Stiles looks like he's going to kill him himself, or at least have a heart attack.

"Jesus Christ! What am I going to do? …Has my dad ever seen you, seen you? Like, right in your face I-know-that's-him kinda thing?" Stiles tries to think, ideas rapidly growing in his mind, making his head a bit dizzy, actually.

"No, the first time he caught me, I had a hood on and I got away. The second time it was one of his partners, and they took my picture, but I made sure it didn't come out right. And then all the other times… Well, he doesn't know me." The wolf tells him, trying to button up the shirt. The other teen races to help him, and they hear footsteps pounding down the hall.

"Can you keep yourself sitting up?" The quirky teen asks him, getting a nod. He helps him up, legs hanging off the bed in a totally I-wasn't-fixing-to-fuck-your-son way, just in time for Stiles to get over to the door before the Sheriff is there again, old Winchester in hand, looking angry. Derek braces for a shot.

"Dad, please stop. P-Please." He looks up at him with a pleading expression, his father's eyes softening when they meet his, "…We weren't gonna do anything."

"Stiles… Why didn't you tell me you… liked boys?" Sheriff Stilinski asks, eyes glancing up to the older teen on the bed, now with his head in his hands.

The younger teen doesn't know what to say about that one. He's been curious about things like that, but he's never actually acted on any of it, "I-I just… I wanted you to know when I was ready. But uh, I guess now I sort of ruined that. His… parents kicked him out… after they beat him, and he has nowhere to go."

The Sheriff moves his gun to his side, sighing. He wasn't actually gonna shoot him, anyway. "I don't even know how to feel about this."

"If it's any consolation, I'm sorry and I'll find a way to my uncle's house tomorrow. Plus, my dad hit me so hard against a wall… I think I might pass out." Derek chimes in weakly, making the two others look over at him.

"I-I have to take care of him." Stiles frowns up at his father before making his way over to the wolf and taking him into a hug - oh god I'm sorry you're gonna hate me for hugging you shit shit shit - letting him lean against him. Stiles actually feels heartbroken when the other teen lets out a real-sounding sob against his shoulder.

Sheriff Stilinski doesn't want this boy to stay in his son's bedroom, but with his home situation... he has to think about it. He watches how Stiles comforts him softly, telling him it would be okay, and he's proud of his son for being such kindhearted. Stiles always goes in fully with something when his heart's in it, "He can stay tonight… But the door stays open. And I don't want to find you two like that again, you hear me?"

The two teens part for a moment and Derek presses the heels of his palms against his eyes, making them water as Stiles gives his father a hug. The younger teen smiles a little, "I hear you, Dad. Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah," He nodded, then lowers his voice to a whisper, "…What's his name?"

Derek takes in a fake shuddering breath and sniffles, "T-Thank you, Sheriff. I uh, my name's Tyler." He tries to pull himself up from the bed; it's a bad idea, but he knows he should make an effort with a hand extended to shake. It just makes it more believable when his legs won't hold him and Stiles comes running over, putting him back on the bed.

"I told you not to get up. You can't handle it right now." He says, sounding concerned, wiping away one of the tears on his cheek. He never thought in a million years that he'd see Derek Hale like this, even if he's lying through his teeth. He's convincing. The wolf nods, leaning into the touch like he actually wants it.

"You should probably relax... Dinner's at six. I expect both of you down there." The Sheriff says before leaving the room, going to put his gun back, sighing at how confused he is now.

Stiles puts his hands on Derek's shoulders, making him stay upright. He makes a face, "Tyler?"

"When I spent time in Canada, I had a fake name… Can I lay down now?"

The younger teen takes a moment, then nods, "Yeah, of course you can."

"…Can you help me?"

His tone sounds calm; soft. It was something Stiles hasn't heard until today, and it's so different to him, but he likes it. It makes him want to comply. It makes him want and not be scared of that want. He moves the wolf's legs back on the bed, then helps him scoot up to the pillows, not even feeling awkward when he has to be close to get him comfortable before he settles down. He's leaning over him, and Derek picks himself up enough to be on his elbows, from where previously his head had been on the pillows.

"What?" He breathes out, watching the way the younger teen's eyes flutter almost closed before he shakes himself out of it. He doesn't know why he likes it so much, but he suddenly wants to replay the movement in his head over and over.

"I-I…"

"Stiles, what did I tell you?" He hears his father's voice from behind him, and he turns, seeing his arms crossed over his chest with an unhappy expression. He grins apologetically, and he removes the hand that had settled high on the older teen's thigh.

"N-No more catching us like that, got it." He nods and so does the Sheriff, shooting a glance at Derek before leaving his spot in the hallway.

It's going to be a long night.