"Dean, come to bed already."
"Cas it's not like I'd be getting any sleep anyways. Damn kid's got me worried sick over here."
"He's an hour late, so what? He'll be home soon; he's just out with friends. Let him have his fun while he's still young." Castiel yawns. His eyes feel heavy and all he wants to do is crawl into bed and cuddle up with Dean but the stubborn human insists on staying awake until their teenage son comes home. "He's not out with friends, Cas. I've seen him hanging around that Hale dude recently. There's definitely something going on there, babe. I'm not about to let our kid stay out after curfew with some guy we don't even know."
"Fine. Do as you please, Dean. When you realize that you're being an overprotective father-and if I remember correctly it's something you said you'd never be-I'll be in bed. Alone. And I'll be hogging all the blankets." The angel turns around and his sleep robe slaps Dean in the face as he struts away. Dean sighs heavily and wonders why the hell he puts up with this sassy son of a bitch and oh, that's right. He loves him. And they raised a baby together. That might be a reason too.
He turns his attention back to the TV and quickly gets engrossed in one of Discovery Channel's Shark Week episodes. He's watching some massive shark jumping out of the water and eating some poor seal and it's freaking awesome when the sound of an engine rumbling outside calls his attention. He quickly mutes the TV before walking towards the window and peeking slealthily through the blinds. Stiles is pressed against a nice, expensive looking black car, while some guy twice his size hovers over him, hands on either sides of Stiles' body. It takes his brain a couple of seconds to process that the dude all over his son happens to be the Hale kid that Stiles has been hanging around with lately. Stiles moves forward and says something into Hale's ear that leaves the dude with a nasty smirk on his face. The guy leans in and says something back into Stiles' ear and Stiles opens drops his mouth and slaps him playfully in the arm before moving in to kiss him and okay, times up, kid. He raps his knuckles against the window and they make a loud banging sound against the glass. Stiles' eyes dart up and he pushes Hale away from him, looking at Dean through wide frantic eyes. The Hale kid's face turns into a stony expression and he give Stiles a nod before getting into his car and speeding away. He can practically hear Stiles' rapid beating heart as his son enters through door and leans against it.
"Dad, I-"
"You're two hours late, Stiles."
"Yeah dad, but I just-"
"Since when is it okay for you miss curfew 3 nights a week huh, kid?"
Stiles looks down as his sneakered feet, avoiding the expectant gaze that his father is giving him as he remains silent. "Well?" Dean asks once more. Stiles opens his mouth and starts blubbering, "I know, dad. I'm sorry, okay? But Derek and I lost track of time at the movies and then we went to go get something to eat-"
"Whoa whoa whoa. So his name is Derek, then?"
"-and then when we looked at the time it was already late and wait what?" Stiles stops his rambling and furrows his eyebrows at Dean's question.
"Derek. That's the guy you've been hanging out with for the past few weeks."
"Well, yeah but why do you have to say it like that? Derek. It's not like you even know who he is so why are you saying his name like you hate him already?" Stiles quips defensively.
"I don't hate him, Stiles. But do you not see that that's exactly what the problem is here? You've been coming home late and going places after school because of this guy-Derek. Don't you think something's wrong with the fact that we haven't met him yet?"
Stiles looks at Dean through guilty eyes, nodding his head softly before asking, "Am in trouble?" The hunter lifts a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose and lets out a sigh. "No, you're not. But you do have to invite Derek over to dinner tomorrow." He provides. Stiles' mouth widens before he huffs out a laugh. "What? Dad, no. No way! Nope."
"I'm letting you off easy, Stiles. You can either invite Derek for dinner tomorrow or you can be under house arrest for the next two weeks."
"Two weeks!? "
"Your pick, bud."
Stiles' shoulders sag in defeat. "Fine. I'll text him tomorrow. I'm going to bed now." He mutters before retreating to his bedroom. "And don't slam the door, your pops is asleep." Dean warns. Stiles stands in the middle of his doorway with a surly expression on his face. "Okay, daddy. Oh and don't worry, I'll be sure to tell Derek to bring an armor suit just in case my crazy hunter dad decides to stab him with a knife that's always strapped around his ankle!" He slams the door as he shouts the last words and it makes Dean cringe. "Little punk." Dean whispers under his breath and there's another shout from Stiles' room saying "I heard that!"
The hunter takes off his shirt as he walks to where his husband is sleeping and sure enough Cas has managed to make himself into a cocoon of their blankets. He unbuckles his belt and slips off his pants as he climbs into bed, snuggling up to the angel's back. "Babe, you're hogging all the blankets." Castiel makes a little huffing sound before grumbling, "I said I would." Dean reaches a hand out and tugs at the blanket, unwrapping Cas from the little blanket burrito thing he has going on. The two men end up facing each other and Dean can tell Cas is trying not to smile.
"Hi."
"Hello."
"You upset with me, too?"
"I'm not upset with you, Dean. I just thought you were being a little…dramatic with Stiles' social life is all." Cas says as he moves forward to press his nose against Dean's.
"I know, babe. But we need to make him follow the rules or else he'll think he can do whatever the hell he wants." Dean murmurs against the angel's lips.
Cas doesn't argue. He knows that Dean is right. Stiles hasn't been obeying their rules lately. Dean presses their lips together and rubs his arm comfortingly. "Hey…I'm sorry if I was a jerk earlier. I was just angry that he thought this was all okay. How about we get some sleep now, yeah?"
Cas burrows his nose into the crook of Dean's neck as he nods sleepily and says, "Mhm. Love you." Dean shifts his body to accommodate his husband's cuddling and replies, "Love you too, Cas." He closes his eyes and then he remembers that his son is most likely, probably, dating that Hale guy. "And just a heads up here, Derek is coming over for dinner tomorrow. So get your angel mojo ready for some interrogating."
"Hey Stiles, could you set up the table?" Castiel asks as he moves around the kitchen, wooden spoon in one hand while the other is covered in a bright red oven mitt despite the fact that his body has no need for it.
"Sure, Pops." The teenage boy removes the unnecessary items from the kitchen table before grabbing 4 sets of tableware and setting them up around the table. There's knock from the front door and Dean walks over to get it but Stiles stops him with a hand on his shoulder. "Dad, no. I got it, don't worry about it." Dean shrugs and moves to lean against the kitchen wall in favor of watching Cas pull out some delicious looking lasagna out of the oven. Dean's mouth waters and goes to wrap his arms around the angel's middle, resting his chin on his shoulder. "Jeeze, babe. I'll never get over how good of a cook you've become."
"Well someone had to feed our child." He replies, leaning back against the hunter's hold. The front door opens and Stiles' shrieking fills the house.
"Oh my god, Derek! What are you-is that a suit?"
Dean peeks through the hallway and sure enough Derek is standing there awkwardly, in a fitted black suit holding a box that looks suspiciously like Dean's favorite brand of convenience store pie.
Derek's shoulders are tense and rigid and when he spots Dean looking at him he nods his head in a brief form of greeting.
Dean strides over to his son and the older boy and looks Derek up and down. "Nice suit, kid." He quips. Stiles shoots his dad a displeased look and Dean whips his head around when he hears the sound of a throat clearing. Cas mouths the words 'be nice' as he crosses his arms over his chest. Dean rolls his eyes and turns back to the boys in front of him. "Dean Winchester." He sticks his hand out and the Haletakes it in his own and announces, "Derek. Derek Hale, sir," while giving the hunter a firm handshake. Hm, well at least he's got a good grip.
Stiles is staring at Derek slack-jawed before bursting out incredulously, "Sir?! God, Derek. Calm down, will you? It's just my dad. Its Pops you should be worried about. He's the one that's got the angel mojo powers going on."
"Stiles. You know I don't use my powers unless it's absolutely necessary." Cas walks up the other three males and places a hand on Derek's shoulder. "Hello. I'm Castiel. It's a pleasure to meet you, Derek Hale. Any friend of Stiles is welcome into our home at any time. Let me take that pie off your hands for you." Cas orders them to take a seat before the food gets cold as he takes the pie in Derek's hands and places it on the kitchen counter before serving the food.
Halfway through their meal, Dean places his fork on the table and folds his hands over the table. "So... Derek. How do you know my son?" The hunter waits for an answer as Derek lowers his fork onto the table and pats his mouth with a napkin before clearing his throat and speaking. "We met through a mutual friend. Scott McCall." The name is familiar to Dean and Castiel. Melissa McCall had helped them out with Stiles' minor cuts and bruises many times before when he was just a child. The man nods and continues to probe the kid for questions.
"And how old would you say you are, Dere- Damnit, Stiles! You better watch that little foot of yours under the table, kid." He warns his son. Stiles' lips are in a tight line and his knuckles are white from they're gripping his silverware tightly.
"I'm twenty two."
"Twenty-twenty two?" He asks skeptically. "Tell me, Derek, what do you do when you hang out late at night with my seventeen year old son and make him miss his curfew, huh?"
"Dad!" Stiles rises on his feet and his fork clinks against his plate and he turns his head to look at Hale. "Derek, dude, I'm sorry." He apologizes frantically.
Derek scoots his chair back and stands as well. "I think I should leave, Stiles." He states. He turns his head to look at Cas. "Thanks for the dinner, it was delicious." He makes to leave the table but Dean stops him with a knife held in front of his chest.
"Whoa buddy, you sit back down. I ain't done with you just yet." Derek's eyes glow red and he clenches his jaw, hackles beginning to rise.
Dean's eyes widen for a fleeting second before he composes himself and looks at Stiles with an amused expression. "Really, Stiles? A werewolf? Out of all the normal people in the world you could have chosen for a boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever it is you like, you chose a werewolf? And an alpha at that. God, kid. You sure know how to pick em'."
Stiles slaps a hand to his face and drags it downwards letting out an aggravated groan. "Dad, can you just like put the knife away or something? You're making him get all defensive." Stiles looks at Cas pleadingly. "Pops, can you please make dad leave my boyfriend alone please? How is this my life right now?"
Castiel nods and rubs a reassuring hand across Stiles' elbow as he stands to his feet. "Put the knife away, Dean. We're not getting anything solved this way. Everyone sit back down and we're all going to talk like adults." He throws a wink towards Derek's way.
As they all take their seats once more, Derek's eyes turn back to their human color and he gives Cas a grateful nod. Dean and Stiles refrain from looking at each other and both of them have their hands crossed against their chests stubbornly.
"Derek, from what I understand you're dating our son, correct?" The angel asks calmly. Stiles is thankful for how relaxed and non-threatening Cas sounds. Leave it to Pops to fix anything that's going terribly wrong.
Derek nods and the gesture makes a little noise of complaint erupt from Dean's mouth. The hunter opens his mouth ready to ban any werewolf dating, at least until Stiles is 25 when Cas cuts him off with a light grip at the back of his neck.
"Are you treating Stiles with respect, Derek?" He questions gently. Derek gives him another nod and when Cas' body releases a soft sigh, Dean's body relaxes too because there is no way in hell that Cas isn't using his angel mojo to tell if the kid is lying right now.
They continue to sit in silence until Dean's finally had enough and he blurts out, "If you're gonna be dating our kid then you need to respect our rules and bring home before curfew got it?" The werewolf's head bobs in affirmation and when Dean tries to tell him and Stiles about certain acts that are not permitted until Stiles is eighteen, his voice seems to become too weak to speak.
"And no doing any of that…"
"What your father is trying to say Stiles, is that you are not allowed to partake in any sexual acts with Derek-" The hunter releases a cough, "-Sorry. With anybody, until you are 18. Is that clear?" He corrects. Stiles' face is pale and Dean thinks Derek might jump out the kitchen window any second now.
"Oh my god-Oh my god. You guys are so-I'm so sorry, Derek. You can go, now. Can he go?" He looks at his dads and receives twin nods. "Okay, I'll walk you to your car. Let's get out of here before Uncle Sam comes out of the hallway closet and threatens to squish you with his giant feet or something. God. "
Stiles pushes Derek out the kitchen and then out the front door and yells out a sassy 'Okay, dad!' when Dean notifies him that he has five minutes to say his goodbyes and that kid better watch his attitude if he wants to keep dating that brute.
Exactly five minutes pass before there's the sound of a smooth engine running and then exiting out the driveway. Stiles walks in and makes a show of throwing his body face-first onto the couch. Dean and Cas walk over to him. Dean sits in the arm chair while Cas sits on one end of the couch, trying to contain his smile at their mortified teenaged son.
Cas reaches out a hand to pat against Stiles' calf and the boy kicks it away quickly.
"That was the worst dinner I have ever had in my entire life." He groans.
Dean lets out a chuckle. "You're seventeen, kid. You still got way more dinners to go."
"Okay, dad, I get it. You like ruining my life, okay?"
"Hey now. You may not understand now, Stiles, but when you see your kid coming home late and hanging out with a guy that looks like that- all good looks and cocky smirk, you'd be a little bothered by it, too."
Stiles lifts his head to look up at Dean.
"Oh yeah? And what would you know about someone that has 'good looks and cocky smirks'?" He asks.
"I was that kid, Stiles. I had a different girl every two weeks. You think I didn't hurt any of them? You think I didn't make them cry because I had my fun and didn't need them around anymore? I don't want you getting hurt, son. It's my job as a father to protect my kid. You gotta understand that I'll always do everything I can to keep you from ever getting hurt." He glances at Cas to where the angel is looking at him with that soft smile and those big wide eyes that always manage to make his stomach swoop. "The both of you."He finishes.
Stiles sits up and Cas plops down onto the couch. Stiles sighs and lays his head down across his dad's lap. "I know, dad. It's just -It's different with him, okay? I haven't felt this way about someone since Lydia and I just really really don't want to ruin it. I get that you're just trying to keep me safe from the world, but dad, sometimes people need to get hurt to learn from their mistakes. And if Derek, for some reason, ends up being a mistake-which I highly doubt by the way-then I want you to let me get hurt. Because that's the way I'm gonna learn to stay away from people like him. You and Pops taught me what people to keep away from. If I thought Derek was one of them I would have done it a long time ago, okay? There's no need to worry so much."
Dean feels like a proud father. And having Stiles as a son only means the feeling is around constantly. He can tell Cas is feeling the same way by the pride that glistens in his wide blue eyes. The angel has his hands on Stiles' head, one of them rubbing smoothly across his short hair while the other rubs soothingly across his eyebrow and down the side of his face with his thumb.
Cas leans forward and places a kiss to Stiles forehead. The boy immediately wipes his face and gives him a grossed out look playfully . "Well, I like him, if that makes you feel any better, Dean. He's nice. Handsome if you must. You have good taste, son." He says to Stiles. The boy peeks up at him from his lap before both father and son share award winning grins.
Dean squints at them suspiciously. Stiles releases a short laugh and announces he's going to get ready for bed as he stands up. He walks into the bathroom to brush his teeth, leaving his dads in the middle of the living room floor. Dean slinks his arms around his husband's waist and nuzzles against his neck.
"Handsome, huh?" he asks, mouth halfway up-turned into a smirk.
Cas chuckles as he replies teasingly, "Oh yes. Very handsome."
Dean nips the corner of Castiel's ear playfully. "Maybe you need to be reminded of how handsome your husband is?" He proposes, rubbing his scruff against Cas' neck.
"I suppose that needs to be done." Cas answers him.
Dean mouths at Cas' neck and the other man stretches his neck to allow Dean more access to skin.
"How about we take this to the bedroom?" Dean growls out, teeth nipping along Castiel's jaw.
"O-okay." Cas croaks out.
The door to the bathroom flies open and Stiles yells, "Dads, gross! Don't you have any shame? I'm right here!"
Dean looks at his watch then back at Stiles. "You have two and half hours until curfew." Stiles stares at him blankly. "Go." Dean orders. And just like that Stiles scrambles off grabbing his jacket and keys mumbling something about, 'scarred for life' and 'no shame.'
The front door slams shut and Dean stares at his prey. How Cas manages to look so innocent knowing fully well what's about to happen in their bedroom still baffles Dean. He presses Cas up against the wall and the angel releases a soft moan before pushing Dean away gently.
"It's my job to protect him too, Dean. " He says seriously. "If something seemed off with Derek I would have kicked his werewolf ass out of the house from the very start. Nobody fucks with the Winchesters."
Dean nods in understanding then swiftly attacks the Cas' mouth with his own.
"Shit, babe. I love it when you curse."
Their teeth clink against eachother's and they haven't done this in so long and it feels so good.
"Maybe-Ngh- we should-Guh-extend curfew. Ah, Deeean." Cas whines.
Dean lifts Cas off the ground, the friction between their clothed crotches making Cas whimper as he wraps his legs tighter around Dean's body.
Dean plops him onto the bed and shuts the bedroom door, locking it for good measure.
"Yeah, maybe."
