They only exchanged a few texts the next day, since Stiles was mainly having a Bro Day—capital letters insisted upon by the Omega—with Scott, but they still needed to go over the plan for that night. Which Stiles had already completely thought out, of course, giving pros and cons regarding when exactly to drop the Bond Bomb—capital letters by him again—to their families.

Derek wound up arriving early in picking Stiles up, the younger man answering the door in a red plaid that he'd actually buttoned up and black skinny jeans, but no shoes, and once again it struck the Alpha just how grown up and attractive he was now. His jaw actually dropped some and he inhaled sharply, taking in that sugary-sweet scent and feeling his head spin, the smell sticking to his tongue.

Stiles frowned in confusion, stepping away from the door in a wordless invite for his guest to enter, forcing out a laugh. "You okay, Big Guy?" he asked, trying to keep it light and friendly.

The few feet of space Stiles out between them helped clear Derek's head and allowed him to snap out of it, shutting his mouth with a click. He glanced around the street behind him, at the yard, taking a few last breaths of fresh air before he headed into a house that had the Omega's scent saturated in every inch of it. Feeling ready and strangely unprepared at the same time, he stepped inside, shutting the door behind himself.

"Yeah, fine," he finally answered, clearing his throat of the roughness it now held and ignoring his wolf's demands to go over and wrap his arms around the Omega, to cover the younger man in his scent, to get that scent on himself, to hold him close and never let go.

"You look nice," he stated awkwardly, wringing the back of his neck and wincing, glad Stiles was busy checking between couch cushions for something and couldn't see his face.

The Omega's scent bloomed at that, smile curling up at the corners of his lips as he focused on his task. "Thanks." He pulled out a set of keys from where he'd apparently lost them between the couch arm and a pillow, raising his head to take in the other man. "You, too."

Derek looked down at his outfit of a burgundy Henley and his own black jeans, thinking it wasn't anything too fancy but nice enough for a family dinner. Yet the compliment had his chest puffing out in pride and his wolf preening in his head, both parts of him glad his Mate found him aesthetically pleasing.

"Thanks," he croaked out, clearing his throat again. "You almost ready?"

"Yeah, I just gotta grab my shoes from my room. I'll be right back." He held up a finger to signify "one moment", heading back around the couch and past Derek to the stairs, pausing after the first couple. "Oh, I told Scott the whole truth about—" He wagged a finger back and forth between them before moving it in wide circles to encompass everything. "—all of this so he knows what's happening tonight." He walked up a few more steps before pausing halfway. "And my dad's gonna meet us there. He's heading straight over from his shift." With that, he disappeared up the stairs, floorboards creaking as he made his way to his room.

Derek's eyes went wide as he stood in the middle of the living room. He was gonna have to tell the sheriff, in full uniform, gun and handcuffs and all, that he was in a Bond with his Omega son. Shit.

Then again, John had told Derek at the hospital that he approved of them and he was glad it was Derek who was his son's Mate.

On the other hand, John was under the impression that they would enter a real Bond followed by an actual Mating. When it came time for the break-up, he was gonna be sorely disappointed and incredibly confused.

Hopefully by then Derek would not only figure out a good lie to explain it all away to his mom and to a man who'd believed he was gonna be his father-in-law.

Shit again.

"Body spray or no?" Stiles called from his bedroom, snapping Derek out of his thoughts.

"No. Bonded pairs don't wear shit like that," he replied, remembering how Boyd had quit wearing his favorite cologne after he'd gotten together with Erica because she preferred the pure scent of him, plus. "They like smelling like each other."

"Oh shit, that's right. Okay!" he unnecessarily yelled the last part like the Alpha couldn't hear him, like Derek wasn't now completely attuned to every move Stiles was making in his room, tossing shoes around in order to find the pair he wanted. He let out an "aha!" once he located them, rushing around his room to grab whatever other essentials he needed before he bounded down the hall and the stairs. "Do I still smell like you, by the way? I took a shower so I'm not sure." He paused in front of Derek, head titled back and to the side, displaying the side of his neck that the Alpha had pressed his hand to the night before.

Derek swallowed hard at the sight, biting back a growl as his wolf rumbled. He was never gonna get over seeing that, seeing Stiles in such a trusting and submissive position, seeing all that pale flesh just begging to be marked up and bitten, seeing the place where his Claiming Bite would go when they were Mated.

If they were Mated.

Which wasn't likely to happen.

Damn.

His entire body was trembling as he leaned forward ever so slightly, head just barely ducked down, Stiles now at the perfect height for him. He scented the Omega, lids fluttering closed at the sugary-sweetness and he ground his teeth to hold back a moan at it. Searching, he sifted through Stiles' natural scent, that of his body wash, of the laundry detergent and cotton on his clothing, finding just a hint of himself amongst all of it. And fuck if it didn't smell good, smell right to have his own woodsy musk mixed in there.

Clearing his throat, he lifted his head, swiping a finger under his nose. "It's still kinda there," he answered, not pointing out how much he loved it or how badly he craved to add more to it. His mind supplied him with images of the two of them writhing together on the couch, Stiles' shirt unbuttoned, his own rucked up, hips rolling as Derek nuzzled the Omega's neck, kissed it, licked it, bit it, the younger man's head lolling back against the arm of the sofa as moans escaped him and he begged for more.

He quickly shut it off and stored it for later, tips of his ears growing hot.

Stiles seemed oblivious to the x-rated revery he'd just had, nodding thoughtfully as he licked his lips and pressed them together before finally meeting Derek's eyes with a contemplative frown on his face. "Recently Bonded pairs would smell a lot like each other though, right? Like, they'd constantly be scent-marking the crap outta each other."

The Alpha snorted, thinking that was putting it lightly. Boyd and Erica had constantly been nuzzling one another when they were together, public or not, and when they were alone, they both carried a heavy dose of the other's scent, like they'd bottled it up and poured it all over themselves.

But now that Derek had found his own Mate, he honestly couldn't be pissed or annoyed at them for their behavior anymore. Because he got it, understood that need and desire to wear their Mate's scent proudly and to mark their Mate up, because that's all he wanted to do now. He was beyond tempted to call his mom and say they couldn't make it to dinner, to drag Stiles up to his bed so they could scent-mingle for hours, with or without clothes, it didn't matter. He just wanted that sugar-sweet all over him, wanted his woodsy musk all over Stiles, wanted his friends to wrinkle their noses and comment over how much he reeked of the younger man, wanted them to wear each others scent with pride and joy.

Wanted this to be real.

"Yeah," he answered, voice holding a rasp to it that wasn't there before, cock twitching in his jeans at the dirty routes his mind was traveling in.

Stiles shifted his weight from foot to foot, muttering out a "thought so", chewing on his bottom lip. "Scott and Allison pretty much stank of each other when they first got together, to the point where I could barely stand being around them at times. Same with Jackson and Lydia, although there were other reasons for that. She fucking reeks of Parrish these days though. Malia and Kira were bad in the beginning, too."

"I remember that," the Alpha agreed, perfectly recalling how his cousin had shown up one day all smiles, her own natural scent smothered in cherry blossoms and sugar, which he later learned was Kira's.

The younger man nodded, fingers drumming on his thigh as his leg shook in nerves. "So I was thinking, clearly we can't go announcing some Bond when we barely smell like each other. And just the swipe of a hand isn't gonna be enough."

Derek's eyebrow raised at the implication, wolf yipping in excitement and bouncing around, cock twitching once again. Because there was really only one thing Stiles could be suggesting with those words and it sounded eerily—and arousingly—like what he'd just been fantasizing about only moments before.

"Sooo," Stiles went on, stretching the word out, clearing his throat and licking his lips. "I dunno why this is awkward. We already agreed to it, basically. I mean, it can't be all that different from cuddling or whatever, right?" He winced slightly as he rubbed the hair at the back of his head, looking awkward and unsure and probably feeling a million times more than that.

The Alpha thought back to times when he'd scent-marked Paige, comparing it to when he just held her on the couch watching TV or a movie. He thought of witnessing Boyd and Erica's love-fest taking place in front of him and how it differed from him and Paige, knowing his friends were Mates and that everything was much more intense for them. He thought he knew, but he honestly had no clue.

He shrugged and gestured helplessly, stammering a bit before finally sputtering out a "I guess so, yeah."

The unease seemed to leave Stiles at that, carefree grin forming on his face as he shook the nerves off. "Cool. Do me first," he stated jovially, tilting his head back and to the side again.

Derek's eyes went wide, tips of his ears burning hot as his mind went straight in the gutter with that request. Not that he had any issue following through with the more explicit version of those words. Hell, if it was up to him, that would've been exactly what Stiles had meant and exactly what Derek would do.

But it wasn't. Meaning he wasn't going to.

Although there was no telling his wolf that, the animal letting out a victorious howl and slobbering all over the place.

His hands trembled by his sides and he curled his fingers into fists, trying to steady himself, trying to calm his racing heart and shaky breaths. He was back in high school once more, a nerd with a crush on the super hot popular guy, having no clue how to act, what to say, what to do with his hands, his mouth, his body.

No. He was fine, he was cool, he was calm. He was a fucking Alpha and could handle any situation that life threw his way.

Any situation except one involving Stiles in a submissive position, apparently.

Derek took a deep breath to steady his nerves, mentally reminding himself that he was an adult, a Hale, an Alpha, that he could do this with no problems and it wasn't an issue. Stepping forward, he got right in Stiles' space, their bodies barely an inch apart, just one deep breath and there'd be contact made. His head ducked, he gingerly placed his fingertips on the Omega's hips, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips.

"This okay?" he murmured, not wanting to touch when it wasn't welcome, not wanting to overstep his bounds.

Stiles swallowed audibly, nodding, breath leaving his lips shakily. "Yeah. It's fine."

Knowing he had the go-ahead, Derek cupped the younger man's hips with the flat of his palms, thumbs finding the jut of the bone just over the top of his low-slung jeans and rubbing through the cotton of his plaid. He dipped his head lower, nose trailing up along the side of his neck, from his shoulder to the crook of his jaw where it met his ear, nuzzling a mole he found there and making the Omega shiver against him. Inhaling deeply, he took in that sugar-sweet scent, eyes closing in pleasure as he held it in his lungs.

'Mine,' his mind declared, his wolf rumbling its ascent and he couldn't find it in himself to disagree.

Stiles stepped closer still, pressing their torsos together, one of his feet slipping between both of Derek's. His hands slid up the Alpha's arms, settling on the round of his triceps, spine stiffening as he fought to remain still.

The older man nuzzled into the crook of his neck, rubbing his cheek against the sensitive skin, whiskers rasping. Stiles let out a hiss and he pulled back immediately, lifting his head to look at him in concern and worry.

"Wasn't expecting the beard for some dumb reason," the Omega admitted with a sheepish grin. "Was kinda scratchy."

"I'll shave before next time," he promised, not wanting to cause any discomfort or harm or—

"It's cool. I like it."

His eyebrows went up at that before a smirk pulled at his lips. "I won't shave then," he corrected before leaning back down and rubbing his cheek along the same place, this time with more purpose, with a bit more pressure behind it.

The Omega shuddered, fingers gripping onto the sleeves of Derek's shirt as his lips parted and he exhaled loud and long. His heart was pounding in Derek's ear, fast and out of control, but his chemosignals weren't giving away any fear or trepidation. No, he was enjoying it, was practically melting against the Alpha at his actions, scent lit up with joy and a dark spice Derek couldn't quite place at that moment.

He nuzzled against his neck more, trailed his nose along the sensitive shell of his ear, followed by his lips in a barely there graze, coaxing another shuddering breath out of the younger man. His grip on his hips tightened, holding him close, relishing the gasp he got when the whiskers on his chin rubbed the soft flesh just below his ear. Fuck, he should've known Stiles would be so responsive, should've known he wouldn't be silent or still during this. It was just who he was, and the Omega part of him was—

The Omega part of him was what was causing all those reactions. It wasn't because it was Derek marking Stiles, it was because it was an Alpha marking an Omega. His reactions were pure biology, a natural thing, and had Derek been any other Alpha in the world, Stiles would be behaving exactly the same way—assuming of course said Alpha had consent the way Derek did, otherwise he had no doubt Stiles would be trying to kick their balls up into their body as he yelled about perverted knotheads and their inability to understand the word "no".

But the knowledge that it wasn't him getting those reactions, but his Alpha part, was like a bucket of cold water on Derek. He didn't freeze, not wanting to cause any sort of alarm, but he knew he had to pull away, knew he had to end it. Already he was too interested in it, mind already five steps ahead to the two of them naked in bed doing this very thing, but with Derek's cock driving into his Omega—into Stiles, he mentally corrected. And since that wasn't gonna happen, he needed to cool off, needed to step away, needed to regain control of his head and his wolf and his everything before he fucked the whole thing up by pushing things too far.

Swallowing, he lifted his head, taking in Stiles to make sure he was okay. His eyes were closed, teeth sunk into his bottom lip, and when his lids finally lifted, he almost looked a little dazed and it took him a moment to focus. The younger man cleared his throat, cheeks going red, his neck already a deep shade of crimson from Derek's beard and the Alpha thought it was a damn good look on him. Add in a couple bite marks and sex-rumpled hair and—

And that thought was ending right fucking there.

"My turn?" Stiles croaked, clearing his throat again, shaky smile on his face.

Derek could only nod, not trusting his tongue or his words, scared to open his mouth lest something pop out that he didn't want to.

Safer to be silent.

The Omega nodded back before leaning in, snuffling at the older man's neck, making him shiver when a harsh exhale ghosted over his skin. A small groan left Stiles, so low it could almost be mistaken for something else, almost be an accident, like he hadn't even realized he made the noise. Derek ignored it, tried to remain still as he felt the smooth skin of Stiles' cheek rub against his whisker-roughened flesh, fingers digging into the younger man's hips in an almost bruising manner.

Stiles exhaled shakily, breath sliding over Derek's neck and collarbone and making him shiver. The fingers on his arms dug in deeper, nails biting at his skin through his sleeves, pressing in deep and hopefully leaving marks behind, proof that Stiles had been there and that this had really happened. Hips rolled against his, a groin pressing into his thigh and he closed his eyes and grit his jaw, somehow finding the strength not to move right along with them, not to move so he could create some sort of friction to bring them off.

His wolf was howling in his head and his cock was hardening in his pants and he backed his hips away to prevent the half-chub he was sporting from being discovered. But Stiles just pressed right up against him again, moving insistently. A whine escaped the younger man, body arching and lifting, feet now on his tiptoes as he practically tried to climb up Derek. His movements were desperate, almost frantic, a wildness to his scent that Derek had never picked up on before, not from Stiles or anyone else.

Things were beginning to go too far, he knew it, knew he should stop it before it went all the way and Stiles wound up resenting him for letting it happen. Because he was the older one, the Alpha, the one who was supposed to be in control. But he felt so very out of it at that moment, like he was losing his grip on the situation, on Stiles, on everything and it was only a matter of time before he completely lost it.

He shifted the grip he hand on Stiles' hips, used it to push him back with care, used a bit more force when the Omega fought it. "Stiles," he prodded, gently, moving his own body back. But the Omega followed him, dug his nails in more, tried to haul him back in close.

"Stiles," he repeated, with more force, moving back and pushing the younger man at the same time. "I think I'm marked enough." His voice was rough, gravelly, and he almost didn't recognize it.

Stiles froze against him, embarrassment flooding his scent, and he immediately released his hold on Derek's arms. With his head still ducked, he stepped back once, twice, three times, put a good foot of space between them, wringing the back of his neck and clearing his throat awkwardly. "Sorry," he murmured, tongue darting out to lick his lips, chancing a peek up at the older man.

Derek shrugged and shook his head, dismissed it with a quick "it's okay" and a small smile, even though it wasn't entirely true. Because they had stopped, had to put an end to it, had to extricate themselves from one another.

But there was nothing for either of them to be ashamed of or embarrassed about. All right, so they'd gotten a tiny bit carried away and maybe it was a half-step beyond what their agreement covered, but it couldn't have been helped. They'd been with their Mates, had their Mate's scent in their nose and body against them. Instincts were running wild, wolves were being terrible instigators, and shit happened. But still. Derek truly felt there was nothing to apologize about, other than it ending, which he was only sorry that there was even a need to stop it and that the fakeness of the whole situation existed.

Placated by his words, Stiles gave a small smile, still not entirely assured or back to himself. "All right," he agreed too easily to actually fully agree, nodding as he glanced around. "Yeah, I'm just, uh. I'll." He pointed at the stairs behind him with a thumb over his shoulder. "Be right back," he announced before quickly turning and racing up them, stumbling on one near the top.

Derek leaned back against the couch, letting out a long breath and roughing his hands over his face. He was still half-hard in his jeans and he tried thinking of every gross, disgusting thing he could to get rid of it, having to settle for his mom's Anchor trick of chanting "Alpha, Beta, Omega" in his head. Chances were he was gonna be using that a lot over the next four years.


The plan was to wait until someone asked Stiles or Derek during dinner what was going on between them. They figured out of politeness the questions would be held off until about halfway through the meal, if not after while waiting on dessert, no one wanting to seem too eager or invasive or rude.

They hadn't counted on Malia.

The food had just been dished out and the first compliments made on a fine meatloaf before she'd blurted out what had apparently been on everyone's minds.

"You reek of Stiles. What the hell is going on?"

All side conversations stopped, all eating, chewing, slicing, scooping, everything. All eyes completely focused on Derek who'd been at the receiving end of her bluntness, Stiles getting the occasional quick glance or two, and he felt himself shrink under the weight of all their stares, uncomfortable and anxious because of it.

A hand cupped his knee under the table and he knew it was Stiles, seated on his right, offering his silent reassurance. After a sip of water, he focused on his cousin sitting across from him, giving her a dubious expression. "You saw us at the movies two nights ago," he reminded her. "What do you think is going on?"

His mom raised an eyebrow from the left end of the table, the sheriff mirroring the look on the opposite end, the two parents having a wordless conversation made of lip quirks and eyebrow bobs and head nods. Guilt was a heavy ball in Derek's stomach, knowing that they were both under the impression that the movie date was the start of a future Mating, when it was just the start of a scheme and a trick they were playing on everyone.

Well, everyone except Laura and Scott, who were both perfectly playing the curious and confused roles the rest of the table was.

"Right, but you two didn't stink of each other so bad then," Malia pointed out, brown eyes hard as they stared Derek down, expression serious and earnest and just a slight bit naïve in a way that only she could pull off. "So what the hell is going on?"

Kira hesitantly raised her hand, glancing around at everyone else sitting at the table, nervous smile on her face. "I'd like to know, too," she stated lowly, teeth sinking into a painted red lip.

"Pretty sure we'd all like to know," Cora clarified, eyebrow cocked as she glared at her older brother, not liking being on the outs, despite already having gotten info out of him two nights ago at the diner.

Derek turned to Stiles for support, the Omega shrugging a shoulder and squeezing his knee under the table, silently stating that he'd back Derek up no matter what he wanted to do. Which meant he was giving Derek yet another out, allowing him to make the decision as to whether or not they follow through with the plan or if they just pretend its casual and break it off in a few days like Stiles had suggested previously.

No fucking way.

Reaching under the table, he removed Stiles' hand from his knee, entwining their fingers before putting them both on top of the wood. "Soooo, we have an announcement to make," he began, stating the obvious, noting how the Omega was smiling out the corner of his eye.

"The two of you are dating," Laura stated monotonously, raising her wine glass. "We know, Buns. You couldn't have made it more obvious if you tried."

The irony of her statement had him narrowing his eyes at her but she just shrugged a shoulder in dismissal before drinking deep.

"Actually, there's more to it than that," Stiles spoke up, turning his head to Derek and giving him a smile so warm and genuine, even the Alpha thought it was real. "We've decided to enter a Bond and I'll be moving in with Derek within the next week." His smile grew, brown eyes sparkling, and the older man was helpless to return the expression, feeling a thumb absently rubbing along his knuckles.

The table grew silent once more as everyone absorbed the news, the scents of surprise and pleasant confusion filling the air and overpowering that of the meal. Derek felt Stiles' fingers tighten around his, heard him swallow hard, his knee beginning to bounce under the table as his anxiety grew, as he became more and more worried that maybe they'd made a mistake, that maybe their families wouldn't be as accepting as they believed they would be. But Derek wasn't worried, wasn't nervous, remained steady and sure enough for both of them, butting his head against Stiles' shoulder in support and coaxing a small smirk out of him.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Cora! Language!"

Cora didn't look the slightest bit admonished by her mom's chastisement—probably because she heard it every other day of her life from the time she was twelve—throwing her arms in the air before gesturing to Derek and Stiles. "Are you seeing this, Mom? And you're okay with it?"

"When you know you know, dear," the elder female stated, toasting her wine glass in her daughter's direction before drinking.

She rolled her eyes, turning to the sheriff, gesturing at his son with a hand. "And you're okay with this? Your eighteen year old son who just recently graduated high school is moving in with someone he only just started dating."

John shrugged, hands spread out in front of him helplessly. "When you know you know," he parroted with a smirk, the expression growing when his son pointed at him and winked.

"Why are you fighting this so much?" Derek questioned, scowling at his sister as he leaned across the table to where she was seated on Malia's right, across from Laura. "Why can't you just be happy that we're happy and not be an ass about it or try to prevent it from happening? Pretty messed up, Core."

She actually had the decency to look a little repentant, the fire in her eyes gone as she slumped down in her seat ever so slightly. "Sorry," she muttered halfheartedly, like she was forced to apologize when she didn't want to. "I just feel like you guys are rushing things. You only just started dating and now you're moving in together and entering a Bond and I swear to god if you tell me 'when you know you know' I will jump across this table and claw your face off."

"You will do no such thing and you know it," their mother warned, arched eyebrow just daring her daughter to defy her.

"I meant metaphorically."

"No, you didn't," their mom, Laura, and Derek all said at the same time. Stiles, Malia and Scott each nodded in agreement. Kira sank down in her chair and poked at her meatloaf with her fork, sheepish smile on her face that said she agreed but didn't wanna say it out loud. John just grinned in amusement, wrinkle-framed blue eyes sparkling.

Cora huffed as she slammed back against her seat, bottom lip stuck out in a pout. "Fine," she ground out petulantly, brown eyes focusing on her brother once again. "I still think you guys are rushing things, but it's your lives so go for it." She turned her attention to Stiles, eyes narrowing further, knife pointed at him in warning. "But just know that if you break his heart—"

"Lemme guess," Stiles interrupted with a smirk. "You'll claw my face off."

She grinned evilly back at him, eyes filled with a dark sort of delight that never came with anything good. "No. I'll claw your balls off and feed them to you."

"Cora Jean, I did not raise you that way," their mom sighed, hand covering her eyes in embarrassment and disbelief.

Scott jumped in to defend Stiles' honor, setting off a debate between him and Cora, with Malia adding in how they were both idiots and therefore just as likely as each other to screw the whole thing up. The sheriff asked Kira how her parents were doing as a way of distracting himself, while Laura and their mom began a heated discussion over Laura's break-up with Landon. Again.

All the while Derek sat back and watched with wide eyes, not having expected that reaction to their news. Stiles seemed just as shell-shocked, yet strangely amused and clearly relieved it was over. Leaning over, the Alpha got close to his ear and whispered if he was still sure about wanting to do all this. Stiles simply turned his head and grinned at him, eyes almost whiskey with the way the light shone on them.

"Hell yeah. It'll totally be worth it," he stated happily, squeezing Derek's fingers where their hands were still entwined on top of the table.

The older man returned the smile with a smaller one of his own, pretending that Stiles had been referring to being with him as the thing that would be worth all the hassle and trouble, and not the benefits of being Bonded that he was actually in it for.


The sheriff managed to get Derek alone after Stiles had headed to the bathroom, leaving the Alpha to do drying and putting dishes up duty by himself. John had left his utility belt—and his weapons—in the department SUV parked outside, but he was no less intimidating without them. He'd always carried an air of authority, even before he'd been elected to his position, and Derek knew it was only partly due to his status as an Alpha. Knowing that the man was now his possible—hopeful—father-in-law put him in a position of even greater power in the younger man's life. He could so very easily tell Derek to never see his son again and that would be it. No plan or scheme or Mate-Bond could change that.

But John was approaching in a friendly manner, feet almost scuffing at the floor as he walked closer, casually leaning back against the breakfast bar, arms folding over his chest in a relaxed way. His face was more contemplative than anything, scent curious and reflective, and Derek felt the tension leave him at it, no longer worried he was about to get a stern talking to or a warning or a threat.

"Your mother told me that you weren't gonna tell Stiles about the Mate thing just yet, that you wanted to wait until the right moment," he stated plainly, without judgment or disapproval, just stating the facts.

Derek put away the last glass before closing the cupboard, drying his own hands on the dishtowel. "Yeah," he affirmed, licking his lips before folding the towel up. "I'm gonna wait 'til we're both more settled in our lives and Stiles is in a good place before I spring something like that on him." He put the towel to the side and slid his hands in his back pockets, trying to maintain a casual position and not come across as defensive or aggressive.

John's brow furrowed into a hard line, eyes narrowing, bottom teeth on display, and Derek knew without a doubt he'd just slipped into Sheriff Mode. "So your main concern is Stiles?" he gestured with his hand at the other Alpha. "You're not worried about yourself or getting hurt by being rejected or your image, nothing like that?"

"No, sir," he answered honestly, head held high, looking the sheriff right in the eye. "Stiles' happiness and his well-being come before my own. At the risk of sounding crude, I'd sooner let Cora claw off my balls than upset your son in any way."

A gust of laughter huffed out of John's nose, and he put a hand over his eyes to hide the amusement in them, grin still showing. "You can definitely handle my son then," he stated, lowering his hand and holding it out to Derek as if putting him on display. "Not that I had any doubts about it, considering your experience wrangling the little shit over the years. But I'm glad to hear that your head and your heart are in the right place."

Derek ducked his head and frowned at the floor, unable to maintain eye contact with the sheriff. Because he wasn't entirely sure if that was true, if those things were in the right place. Maybe when it came to Stiles they were, putting his needs and wants before his own. But with his family, his friends? That he wasn't sure about. He was lying to them, all of them, and about something so incredibly fucking major. And everyone was so happy and accepting of this lie and it made a ball of guilt appear in his stomach, one that was only gonna get bigger as the years went on.

Then, in four years time, when the plan was over and they split, Derek would still be lying. Lying about the break-up, lying about the relationship he'd been in, lying about god knows what else.

And with the lie and the end of his fake relationship, he would be breaking his mom's heart, upsetting his friends and family who'd all been supportive and happy for them being together.

God, he was an asshole.

The sounds of footsteps getting closer hit his ears but he kept his head down, watching as the tips of the sheriff's shoes entered his line of sight. A hand clapped down on his shoulder, jostling him slightly and affectionately, his scent warm and full of love. He closed his eyes against the caring he was being shown, feeling like he didn't entirely deserve it. But John had been the closest thing to a father that Derek had had after his own was killed and the affection he felt for the older man couldn't be ignored or denied, especially not now that he had a relationship of sorts with his kid.

"You're gonna be fine, son," John reassured him, voice steady and firm with just enough warmth to be caring. "Don't worry so much." He gave his shoulder a few pats before removing it and heading to the door, only to stop and turn halfway there. "Oh, and Derek?" he began, waiting until the mentioned man lifted his head to show he was listening, eyes twinkling as he smirked. "You and Stiles are on your own for the move. I think I might conveniently have a sore back that day."