Friday had Derek finally breathing easy, his heat leaving him as he laid in bed. He curled up on top of the sheets, careful of his chaffed and very, very sensitive dick. And he slept. There were no dreams, just blessed, wonderful sleep.
When he awoke, it was to his ringing phone. Derek answered, yawning.
"What is it?" He asked. He hadn't even checked the ID.
"Morning, Sleeping Beauty. Pack meeting tonight, or did you forget?" Stiles teased. It wasn't even morning. He sounded like he was eating something.
"Whose bright idea was that again?" Derek groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. He needed to clean this place up, badly.
"Uhhh, yours? I'm coming over there- my dad's kicking me out of the house and Scott's with Allison." Stiles said matter-of-factly.
"Shit- alright. I need to clean up." Derek mumbled, mostly to himself.
"I'll help." Stiles offered.
"Uh…" Derek cleared his throat, looking around at the used tissues. And this was only his bedroom. Downstairs was worse. Way worse.
"It's nothing I haven't seen before. Scott had his heat right after yours. Lasted shorter. He forced me to help him clean up before his mom saw." Stiles took another bite of whatever it was he was eating. "I still have a ton of questions about that. I don't know if you know, but everybody else has hit their heat, too. Except for, y'know, us humans."
Derek was cleaning as he listened to Stiles, taking in every word. He moved gingerly, wincing each time his dick brushed the inside of his sweatpants. He was sore everywhere, too, which also sucked because there was nothing his healing could do about it. At some point, Stiles stopped talking and they shared a companionable silence as Derek dragged his trash can downstairs and found a broom. He hadn't broken any furniture, miraculously, and the surfaces weren't soiled too badly.
"Alright, I'm pulling in the driveway, so I'm hanging up." Stiles announced.
Derek flipped his phone shut without a word and threw it on the couch so he could sweep with two hands.
Stiles knocked before coming in, shutting the door behind him before whistling at the sate of the entryway.
"I'm guessing it was worse, huh?" He asked after following the sound of bristles against wood.
"You wouldn't exactly be winning a prize." Derek smirked a little.
"If it weren't for that teeny tiny smile, I'd never be able to tell if you're joking. Or that you actually have a heart." Stiles said, overly fond.
He succeeded in causing Derek to scowl.
Stiles laughed and took the broom from him, kicking the dustpan into a good position on the floor and bracing it with his foot as he swept.
"Go take a shower, Sourwolf. You look like you could use it." Stiles nudge him playfully with the broom handle. "I've got this."
Derek opened his mouth to say something and then thought better of it, shaking his head with a sigh and going to do as he was told.
The water was hot and soothing on his muscles. Not so soothing when it reached his groin, but Derek did his best to ignore it. He washed quickly, getting redressed in his softest sweatpants and one of his tanktops.
It was then that he smelled the scent of food cooking. He made his way downstairs, confused but realizing he was starving.
Stiles was down in the kitchen, cooking on the one hotplate Derek had until he got around to fixing up the kitchen.
"You didn't have to-"
"Jesus Christ!" Stiles jumped. Violently. Thankfully, nothing went flying.
"Sorry. But you didn't have to do this." Any of it. Derek emerged from lurking around the corner of the doorway and towards that delicious scent. It was making his mouth water despite himself.
"Jeeez, Derek." Stiles was getting his breath back. Derek could hear his heart jackhammering in his chest. It made him smile a little. "I wanted to." Stiles said when he regained himself. "And you looked like you needed it. So eat." Stiles dished up the chili and actually watched Derek to make sure he ate all of it. "And warn a guy next time."
Derek rolled his eyes and said nothing.
By the time they cleaned up the dinner things (for indeed, now it was dark out), the pack had started to arrive. Derek sat down on the couch, because he really couldn't take anymore walking around and Stiles kept giving him this look while he went to go open the door.
Over the time that they'd been a pack, the others had all dragged in new furniture to sit on while Derek made the house fit to be lived in. Bean bags, two mismatching armchairs, a new coffee table and couch. Even a rug. Derek was on said new couch.
Stiles made the mistake of walking passed Derek one too many times, until Derek finally reached out and dragged him down into his lap.
"What- Derek, what're you-" Stiles squawked.
"You're doing too many things. Take a break. And it helps." He rubbed Stiles' stomach, urging him to lean back and relax against Derek.
In truth, the heat of Stiles' body didn't really help at all; an ice pack would be better, but he made a really nice blanket and Derek exhaled softly as he went limp under the comforting weight. When everyone was gathered, Derek took inventory. He could tell by the look of them which ones had gone through torture week- for them it was probably more like three days- and who hadn't. Erica didn't seem to have yet, which was unsurprising.
"So what's this all about?" Scott broke the silence first.
"It's called heat." Derek explained. "For you, it will come more often than it will for an Alpha, like more, or for a girl, like Erica." Derek sighed. "You won't have much control. You're not supposed to. It's meant for mating." Derek felt Stiles shift on top of him and covered up a wince. "Stop moving. Anyway, it's nothing to be afraid of or dread, so long as you keep track of it."
Derek tried to answer other questions, but there wasn't much else he could answer. Heat was simple. Annoying as fuck, but simple. The pack dissolved into small talk and gossip, but it was done as a group. Everyone had something to say. They laughed.
Derek hadn't felt this comfortable in a group of people in a long time. Somehow, this motley crew of outsiders, insiders, and inbetweeners had all come together and made a pack. A family. Humans and wolves alike.
Derek relaxed, his arms loose around Stiles' waist. Stiles was moving, always moving, but more with his hands and chest so as not to bother Derek. He was warm, comfortingly heavy. And he smelled like mate, even though phone sex didn't count in the biological identification of a mate. At least, Derek didn't think it did. He closed his eyes to better focus on the sounds of his pack around him, and before he knew it, he was asleep.