Derek did call Stiles about watching Elias again. Well, rather, text. At 7.55pm. On a Friday.
Stiles was enjoying his evening, only just settling in to catch up on his DVR when his phone buzzed. He sighed in exasperation, but got in his jeep anyway.
The door to the Hale house was open, so Stiles took this as an invitation to walk right in.
"Stiiiiiiiiiiileeeeeeeeeeees!" His name was stretched out from the living room to the front door.
"Hey kiddo!" Stiles said to the tiny head buried in his kneecaps. "What's shakin' bacon?"
"Nothing important!" Elias' voice was muffled by his jeans. "Daddy's just leaving for work now!"
"Work?" Stiles checked his watch. 8.15. "Why is he going to work?"
"Because sometimes people get called in late." Derek said as he stepped out of his kitchen. "My regular sitter isn't available. I hope you don't mind." Derek inserted a leather wallet into his mouth after he spoke, presumably to put on the leather jacket he was also holding.
"It's fine. Where the… heck do you work anyway?" Stiles was getting better at watching his language around the kids.
"Cernstertion." Derek murmured around the leather.
"I'm sorry?"
He removed his wallet and slid it into his back pocket. "Construction and carpentry. My interior designer needs me to do some more grunt work."
"Tell them that I appreciate it." He beamed down at Elias. "I like babysitting this one."
"Tell her yourself. She only drops by my house once a week." Derek reached past Stiles for his keys.
"What?"
"Lydia comes by for… our meetings too, you know." Derek rolled his eyes. "She comes with Erica."
Stiles' eyebrows rose gradually. "You work for Lydia?"
"Yes. I'll be home in an hour, tops. Please have him in bed by then." Derek bent to kiss an eager Elias on the forehead.
"You've got it."
Derek rose to leave, but held back at Elias' 'love me' voice. "Does Stiles get one?"
Both older men stared at the boy. "A what?"
"A kiss. Can Stiles have a kiss too?" Elias' eyes were huge; Stiles swore if they got any bigger they were going to pop out of his head.
Stiles broke the silent staring contest between father and son with a forced laugh. "I think your daddy needs to get to work now, buddy. Why don't we go do something else?" He took Elias' outstretched hand. "See you later, Derek."
"Later." Derek grunted on his way out the door.
Stiles put the book he'd been reading aside, looking down at the small boy curled into his side.
"I think it's time for bed." He whispered. No reply was given, only a sigh and sudden tiny wet spot on his shirt. "I always knew you were a drooler." He smiled down at Elias, then shifted carefully as not to disturb the small boy.
Stiles crept downstairs and raided the kitchen for coffee in the dark. His search was aided by the lights flickering on.
"Stiles?"
He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden light-bulbs-on-and-honey-Derek's-home combination. "Hey… Derek. I didn't know you were home."
"What are you doing here?" Derek set his work bag down beside the counter.
"What?" Stiles flailed in an attempt to upright himself. "I was getting coffee. Elias just fell asleep."
"Then why are you still here?" Derek growled, taking off his jacket and throwing it across a chair.
"I didn't want to leave your kid in this giant-ass house alone. Do you know what that does to a kid?"
"No." Derek searched the mug cabinet for a second, then glared at Stiles. "That's my favorite mug."
"Do I care?" Stiles added crème to his cup and sipped it leisurely.
Derek continued to attempt boring a hole in his skull with his vision. "No, please, make yourself at home." He drawled.
"Thanks." Stiles smiled, detecting sarcasm. It takes one to know one. "Did you know Elias drools?" He tapped his sleeve. "I found that out tonight." Derek grunted in response. "Did you know that?"
Derek shook his head. Stiles laughed humorlessly and rolls his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry that I don't let my kid drool on me." Derek bit out. "It doesn't mean I don't care."
"That's not all that makes me feel like you don't care, Derek! You leave him at daycare every day, then take him home and don't even play with him! You stick him on the couch and hope he doesn't talk to you!" Stiles slammed Derek's mug against the counter, cracking the ceramic.
"Don't talk to me like I don't know how to raise my own kid!"
"Maybe because you don't! He's lonely, Derek! He needs you to-"
"Are you guys talking about me?" A tiny voice trickled in from the doorway.
"Elias, what are you doing up?" Derek's tone softened and he took a step towards his son.
"I heard you guys yelling. I wanted you to stop."
Stiles adopted a soft smile and kneels in front of Elias, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Elias. Your Daddy and I just had a disagreement."
"Daddy has loud disagreements."
"How many people does Daddy disagree with?"
Elias shook his head. "Just Mommy."
Stiles glared over his shoulder at Derek, who glared back. "C'mon Elias. Let's go back to bed." Stiles ended up getting him back to bed in ten minutes, only to return downstairs to Derek's scowling face.
"Good job, you've officially traumatized your kid."
"Leave."
Stiles frowned. "Fine. I thought we'd made progress. Whatever." He's pretty sure Derek could hear the genuine sour tone in his voice, but he didn't care; he simply walked out, keys jangling against his fingers.
