Weekends were a time for Stiles to hang out with Scott – only this weekend (like every other weekend for the past month) Scott was hanging out with Alison.

His dad was working (again) and Stiles was faced (again) with another weekend of sitting at home and watching TV. Only… that's not what happened.

"Breakfast is looking a little lean this morning."

"Shut up. We're out of eggs."

"I could go to the store and get more."

"Stiles, I've seen you in a store, you'd come back with chocolate eggs and think you were being smart." Derek said, handing him a bowl of fruit loops. "We'll go after this." Derek paused. "But we're taking my car."

Derek raced out of town in his black muscle car, shades on – black leather jacket. Stiles, who had grabbed his checked shirt and red hoodie as he followed the wolf out the door felt completely inferior sitting in the passenger seat beside him.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"I need to do a few things before we get the food in."

"Sure." Stiles said, shifting his position in the seat. "Where are we going?"

"Well, I need to get to the bank, sort a few things out. Paperwork."

"Cool." Stiles said, looking out of the window as they left Beacon Hills. Strange to think that if he'd been driving out of town in Derek's car a month ago he'd be pretty sure the Alpha would be taking him somewhere to kill him – not to sit in an office and listen to him talk about money.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Derek said, although he didn't sound too convinced.

Dude was a millionaire. A Squillionare. A Bazzilionaire. He'd been living in the spare room of the Stilinski household for a month and the whole time he'd been rolling in cash. Stiles sat in the office as Derek's bank manager explained to Derek that the money was still there, should he wish to make any purchases. Explained that if Derek needed anything (anything at all) just to call – day or night. Someone would be there.

They walked out of the building, Derek putting back on his shades as they stepped out onto the busy street.

"Dude, you're fucking loaded."

"Looks like it."

"You're living in our spare room and you could buy our house a million times." Stiles couldn't help but feel a little bitter. His dad struggled on his wage, and Stiles was an expensive kid – the cost of his meds alone could keep him fed for a year.

"It only just came through." Derek said, giving him an odd look as they walked. "The insurance company wouldn't pay out. You're dad helped me a lot with the police reports, from the fire."

"That's a lot of money for a life insurance policy." Stiles said, scuffing his feet as he walked. They hadn't gotten anything when his mom died – it all went to pay for her medical bills.

"There were 11 people in the house." Derek said, and Stiles felt like the worst kind of bastard. He stopped and looked up at Derek.

"I'm sorry. I just…" He tried to find the words. "I just… my dad… we…"

"I know." Derek said, and put his hand on his shoulder. Stiles smiled, grateful and comforted, although he knew that he should be the one doing the comforting.

They walked through the busy Saturday crowds - no one gave them a second look, even though Stiles knew they much make an odd looking pair, One brooding drug dealer and a skinny pale kid in a red hoodie.

"You're buying clothes?" Stiles grinned, as Derek walked into the clothing store. Derek glared, but there was no real threat behind it. "I hate to tell you, that's losing its effect when you're standing by purple and pink board shorts."

"Shut up, Stiles." Derek said, but there was a smile in his tone.

Turned out that clothes's shopping with Derek was actually pretty fun. He shot down everything Stiles suggested, but didn't seem to mind standing about while Stiles looked through rails and rails of clothes.

"I went shopping with Lydia once." He said, picking up a red t-shirt and handing it to Derek, who checked the size before putting it back on the rack. "She kind of ruined me forever when it comes to clothes."

"You talk about her a lot." Derek said, taking the blue t-shirt Stiles handed him and putting it back on the rack again.

"I thought I was going to marry her." Stiles said, handing Derek the only grey t-shirt on the rack. "Then Jackson got all supernaturally enhanced and it turns out that Lydia digs that in guys."

"It had its downsides."

"Yeah." Stiles said, walking over to the jeans. "Strength, agility, speed, power – sexual awesomeness. I could see how it must suck for you."

Derek actually laughed, a real laugh that attracted a couple of looks from the girls who were standing at the counter. They were cute, really cute – and Stiles groaned. There was no way they were going to notice him with Derek around. He picked up a pair of jeans (black, of course – the wolf really rocked the drug dealer look) and tried to look like he knew what size Derek might be.

Derek pulled the jeans out of his hand and smacked him on the back of the head, before pointing out the size. XXL.

Stiles rubbed the back of his head and winced. "Dude, my medical bills cost a fortune as it is, I don't need to add permanent brain damage on to the list!"

"Sorry." He said, but Stiles could see he was trying to hide a smile. He reached out and rubbed the back of Stiles head where he had hit him. "Poor kitten."

Stiles glared, but the feeling of Derek's hand on the back of his head felt… nice. Strange, but nice. When Derek didn't move his hand right away, Stiles found himself leaning back into him, it only lasted a few seconds, maybe no one else in the world would have noticed, but Stiles did – Derek's thumb ran down the side of his head, down the thin skin behind the ear. Just for a moment – just long enough for Stiles to register that perhaps it wasn't just Derek being patronising. Then the pressure was gone, and Derek was on the other side of the display, grabbing a pair of jeans and checking the size.

He ended up buying a few things more than Stiles had expected. He'd not managed to stray from his comfort zone of black and grey, but he'd bought enough clothes to last him a year at least. He'd also bought a bright red t-shirt for Stiles, even though Stiles had kept it back from Derek's purchases.

"Just hand it over." Derek sighed, when Stiles stood behind him at the register, cash in hand.

"I've got the money here."

"Hand it over, Stiles, before I beat you to death."

The cute girl at the register giggled, mouthed to her friend when Derek wasn't looking 'so cute!' which made Stiles feel ill. No one had ever really done that to him, and he could tell Derek knew what was going on. Derek took the t-shirt (the Flash! – so cool) from Stiles and added it to his own pile of clothes. It was kind of obvious what belonged to whom. Derek leaned back and looked at Stiles while the girl totalled everything up. "Do you want to get something to eat now, or just wait till we get home?" Stiles hoped that he wasn't asking because of the sounds coming from his stomach.

"Well, since the only thing we had this morning was fruit loops, I might actually starve to death before then." The girl at the till looked over to her friend and gave an 'I told you so' nod that Derek definitely didn't miss. Stiles wondered what they had been talking about before – one of the disadvantages of being a mere mortal was that all the cool stuff like listening into the conversations of cute girls from across the room was impossible.

Derek paid in cash.

"So what were the girls in the shop talking about?" Stiles asked, swallowing a bite of the baked potato he'd ordered.

"What?" Taking a drink of his soda (Derek apparently had a soft spot for Dr Pepper) he looked at Stiles like he'd lost his mind.

"The girls – the ones in the store." Stiles clarified. "What were they talking about?"

"I wasn't paying attention." Derek lied. And Stiles knew he lied – right at that moment, he knew Derek Hale had lied to him.

"Did they think I was cute?" He continued.

"What?"

"Did. They. Think. I. Was. Cute?"

"They thought we were cute." Derek said, grudging every word.

"Damn. I should have asked for her number." Stiles said, looking at the door. "Do you think if I went back they'd remember me?"

"They thought we were cute." Derek said, and Stiles saw what could only be a red tinge on Derek's skin. "As in, 'they are so cute together'."

Stiles stared at Derek for a few moments, taking in the information. "Oh," He finally said, taking a scoop of soft potato filling. "Guess asking for her number would be a bit pointless then."

"Yeah."

They ate the rest of the meal in silence. Derek paid.

The drive back was quiet, Derek had his shades back on and Stiles spent most of the trip looking out the window at the view. The thing was… it wasn't awkward – it was a bit like sitting watching the TV at night. Comfortable.

When they'd taken a walk back to the car Stiles had insisted that he carry a few of the bags – and Derek had handed him the one with his Flash t-shirt in. Stiles wondered as they walked back, if the girls in the shop had thought Derek was his older boyfriend – maybe in college or something. He wasn't really offended, in fact, he didn't think even Danny had ever been out with a guy as hot as Derek and Danny was pretty good looking himself. Not that Derek and Stiles were dating… but if those girls thought Stiles was good looking enough to date a guy like Derek, then that was a win, right?

"Are we going to the grocery store?"

"Yup."

"Can we get something more interesting than green beans?"

"Nope."

"You're no fun at all."

It took Stiles a couple of trips to the store with Derek to realise that the wolf actually enjoyed food shopping. He obviously wasn't too keen on clothes shopping, but when it came to the groceries, the man read every packet, stood for a quarter of an hour comparing two or three different types of butter and refused to put anything in the trolley that he hadn't personally picked.

Stiles spent most of their previous Saturday shopping trip trying to sneak high sugar items past him. Nothing had made it to the checkout. So he stood and waited with his hands in his pockets as Derek went down every aisle. Tried not to look bored out of his mind when he stood and chatted to the in store butcher (who seemed to have a soft spot for him – judging by the generous cuts) for at least half an hour.

"You look bored."

"Do I?" Stiles said, glancing down the row of vegetables. "I have no idea why."

Derek laughed, and that made Stiles smile. "Won't be long."

"Promises, promises."

Derek paid for the food, even though Stiles had the money in his back pocket.

"Do you plan on paying for everything today?" Stiles asked, as they loaded the boot of the car with the paper bags.

"You can pay me back." Derek said, reaching above him and closing the boot and walking around the car.

By the time Stiles had put the trolley back, the car was out of the parking space and waiting for him at the bay. As he climbed in the car he noticed Derek looking at him strangely, before the wolf put on his shades and drove out of the parking lot.

If there was one thing that Derek did well, it was cook. Stiles had been allowed in the kitchen as long as he didn't touch anything (which suited him as he had no idea what Derek was doing half the time) and stayed quiet.

He'd never quiet managed that part though, but Derek didn't seem to care about the constant flow of words that Stiles kept up.

He was making some kind of chicken thing, everything Derek made had some kind of animal in it, and the garlic smell was going around Stiles heart.

"Did you talk to Scott this week?" Derek asked, taking the flat of the knife to crush the garlic on the board.

"Why?" Stiles asked. "Did he say something to you?"

"Scott and I aren't exactly close." Derek said, adding the garlic to the pan. "Isaac mentioned that you weren't talking at school."

"Isaac needs to mind his own business." Stiles snapped, seeing red.

"Is it my fault?"

"What?"

"Are you not talking to Scott because of me?" Derek repeated, and Stiles couldn't believe how… vulnerable Derek looked as he turned back to the cooking food. Stiles had to fight down the urge to wrap his arms about him – it was the strangest moment they'd ever had (including the 'hard on for Stiles' incident)

"No." Stiles said, watching Derek's back. "I'm not talking to Scott because he's a self-centred jerk whose life revolves around a girl who spent a week going postal trying to kill everything on four legs and whose crazy grandfather beat the shit out of me." Stiles, who had only been slightly annoyed at Scott a moment ago, was shaking with rage now. "You know, I did everything for him when this whole thing started. I did the research, I didn't freak out when he tried to kill me, I made sure he knew what would calm him down. I was the one who-" but Derek cut him off with a:

"Scott tried to kill you?"

"Oh, yeah!" Stiles raged. "Never once tried to kill Alison and I've known him since he was 3 years old." He glared at the table. "So much for that." He'd been keeping his anger under control for months, trying to be the cool best friend who was happy for his buddy, but the floodgates had opened. "He's got all these awesome super-powers and I've got hairline fractures and bruises all over my body because I keep trying to help him." Stiles couldn't have shut up if someone handed him a million dollars and a gag. "You know they asked me at the hospital if my dad hit me?" He asked, anger radiating from his voice. "Because it was the only reason they could think that would send me to ER so often. My dad."

He didn't mean to cry, but he did. Months of being overlooked and beaten up, months of being second to everyone – he sat on the chair and couldn't stop the angry tears.

Derek was there, suddenly, standing by him and lifting him to his feet.

"How badly are you hurt?" He asked, standing him up.

"What?"

"How badly are you hurt?" Derek nearly roared at him, which snapped Stiles out of his rage and pain.

"It's not that bad." Derek was holding him by the shoulders and looked as though he was going to kill him. There was nothing in his eyes, flat with rage, that looked anything like the guy who had been laughing in the clothes store a few hours ago.

"Stiles, if the next words out of your mouth aren't the truth I swear to god, I'll kill you." Derek hissed, eyes turning red.

"I've got bruised ribs, I dislocated my shoulder and a hairline fracture in my leg – I didn't even know!" He managed as Derek gripped his shoulders harder. "It doesn't hurt! I swear to God, I only know because they gave me a body scan thing!"

"You're walking about on a broken leg!"

"No! No, It's not the same thing!" Stiles gasped as Derek's grip increased. The pain as the Alpha gripped him was enough to make him see stars. "Derek, please, you're hurting me."

Derek let go instantly, looking at Stiles as though he was made of hot coals, or snakes, or both. The look of horror and disgust would have been funny if it wasn't directed at Stiles – and then he was gone.

Out of the kitchen, out of the house – leaving Stiles alone. Again.

"I had to put the chicken in the trash." Stiles said, sitting on the floor of the living room, TV on. He had a bowl of cereal on his knees. The funny thing was, he didn't know how he knew Derek was back. The door didn't open; there was no sound of footsteps. He just knew that he was back in the house and that he would hear what Stiles was saying.

"I brought Chinese." Derek said, from directly behind the sofa. His voice was relaxed, as though he hadn't just run out of the house and left Stiles alone for the better part of 6 hours. He wasn't buying it; there was a trace of guilt in that tone.

"What did you get?" Stiles asked, not turning around.

"Everything."

"I'm not cleaning anything up; you're doing all the dishes."

"Fine."

Derek brought the food though – enough to feed an actual army of teenagers, Stiles wondered if he actually did ask for everything on the menu. There was, however, a lack of vegetarian dishes. He pulled the coffee table closer and put the food on it. Some was still in the cartons, others on plates.

Instead of sitting on the sofa like normal, though, Derek pulled a cushion down at sat beside Stiles. They were so close that Stiles could actually feel the wolfs body heat seeping into him. It wasn't unpleasant, he smelt of dark woods and Chinese food.

"Warehouse 13 is on." Derek suggested, nudging him a little with his arm.

"Only if you promise to let me watch Supernatural tomorrow without bitching."

"Deal."

About half way through the show, Derek stretched his legs out alongside Stiles. They were sitting hip to hip, the entire right side of Derek's body leaning against the left side of Stiles.

It made reaching for the food a little awkward, but neither of them seemed willing to put a little more space between them.

Stiles eventually just pulled one of the tubs down and ate from that, not minding when Derek would take a few forkfuls out.

"Do you think stuff like that is real?" Stiles asked, during a break. "Artefacts and stuff?"

"It's just a TV show." Derek said, knocking Stiles shoulder as he leaned forward to grab another plate.

"I know that, but… True Blood is just a TV show and it's got werewolves in it." Stiles said, turning slightly to look at Derek. "Are vampires real?"

"No idea."

"No idea?!" he almost screeched. "You've got no idea if life sucking immortals are hanging out at the mall?"

"I can think of a life sucking mortal right now."

"Funny." Stiles said, grinning. "Really funny."

"Do you want a refill?" Stiles asked, getting to his feet. Derek, still sitting on the ground, looked up at him and smiled, holding up his glass.

"Thanks."

Stiles was in the kitchen pouring a glass of Dr Pepper and a Coke when Scott knocked on the back door. Knowing that Derek would have heard, he opened the door before turning back to pour the rest of his Coke.

"Hi."

"Hey."

"Is he here?"

"If you mean my dad, then no. If you mean Derek, yes." Stiles said, picking up the glasses. "We're watching TV."

"I need to talk to you." Scott said, and Stiles was brought back again to that afternoon, the anger and hurt he couldn't really place.

"Talk." Stiles said, walking back through to the living room. Derek had moved to the chair, the one where his dad sat. The only pillow on the floor was Stiles. He had no idea why that bothered him – that Derek was now on the other side of the coffee table. It made him angry with Scott, for interrupting, angry with Derek for not having the balls to show Scott they were actually friends. Stiles handed Derek the Dr Pepper, knowing it was written over his face that he wasn't happy. Derek's cool expression didn't change, but Stiles thought he saw a slight change in his shoulders, his eyes – like his whole body was saying 'sorry' while his face was saying 'go fuck yourself'.

"I wanted to talk to you alone." Scott said, standing in the doorframe.

"Scott, I'm having dinner and watching TV. If you don't want to talk to me now, why did you come?"

"I didn't know he was going to be here."

"He lives here." Stiles said through gritted teeth.

"I just wanted to know if you had the notes from Chemistry." Scott said, eventually, eyeing Derek from the doorframe. Stiles thought it was pretty good how the older wolf managed to convey an air of 'Do I look like I give a fuck?' while also looking dangerously alert.

"You took notes." Stiles said, grabbing the carton that he'd been sharing with Derek, which was now sitting on the table. "And you never understand mine."

"My notes aren't… um…" Scott's voice trailed off as he looked at the food on the table. Stiles wondered if he had eaten.

"Did you spend the entire lesson writing 'Scott loves Alison' instead of taking notes again?" All notion of telling Scott to sit down and tuck in to the food was gone. He'd only come here to get Stiles notes so he wouldn't fail and get kicked off the lacrosse team.

"No! I just… She was right there, and… I just…"

"Scott, you never understand my notes." Stiles said, taking a scoop of noodles. "So what's the point?"

"You could help me." And there it was, like a punch in the gut. He looked at Derek, who was watching the TV as though nothing was happening. But Stiles could feel it, in the pit of his stomach, a low burning pain.

"I'll give you my notes." He said, getting to his feet. Ignoring the look Derek threw at him as he led Scott upstairs; he pushed his bedroom door open and dragged Scott inside.

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've known you since you were 3 years old, Scott McCall, so if you think you can lie to me, you are so wrong."

The look on Scott's face was pained, like he'd eaten a slushie too fast and now felt like he was going to throw blue food colouring all over himself. "Spit it out."

"I didn't think he'd be here."

"Jesus, Scott, get over it! He lives here!" Stiles snapped.

"I came over this afternoon." Scott said. "Just to hang out, like we used to, but you weren't here. So I asked Isaac if he'd seen you and he said you'd probably gone to town with Derek." Stiles tried to block out the image of a kicked puppy from his mind, because that's exactly what Scott looked like. "Because Derek mentioned that he needed to get some business done." Scott leaned closer, and whispered, which was stupid, because Stiles knew Derek could hear every word, "You don't want to be involved in his business, you don't know what kind of dodgy stuff he's up to."

"Scott," Stiles managed to say through gritted teeth. "I don't know what you think Derek is up to, but he spent the morning in the office of a bank manager talking about his account, and how he wanted to manage it. He spent the afternoon in GAP and had steak for lunch. He's really that evil. GAP." He picked up his Chemistry notes and handed them to his friend. "Take these. I'm sure Alison will be able to work it out."

Derek was still sitting on the chair when Stiles came back down. The show was over.

"I missed the end, then?"

"Yeah. They worked it out." Derek said, getting to his feet.

"Shocking."

"Are you gonna help with the plates?"

"I think I'm still mad at you." Stiles said, looking at the mass of food left over.

"I'm sorry." Derek said, walking over and nudging his arm. Stiles pushed back, but Derek was immoveable.

"I don't think I've ever heard you apologise before."

"You'll never hear it again." Derek frowned, although his tone was friendly. "Can I borrow your laptop later, when you go to bed?"

Stiles picked up a couple of plates and nodded. "I'll have to delete my browsing history."

"God, please do – the last thing I need is to open up a website and be blasted with your freaky pornography."

"Better stay off Tumblr then." Stiles laughed. "My dash is all Destial porn."

"You make me feel ill." Derek said, following him through to the kitchen with plates in his hands. "Its not even a thing in the show."

"They have moments!" Stiles argued good naturedly.

"Sure."

I've had so many positive reviews for this story that I'm totally overwhelmed! I hope you like this latest chapter – I write after work and am trying to get ideas down as fast as I can.

Love to you all for your support, I really appreciate it! :D