Mrs Fleming was exactly as Derek remembered, thin face, long nose, tan skin, dark unruly curls for hair. The interview was more of a catch-up chat, the female Alpha asking him about college and his degrees, how his life had been for the past five years. When he told her he'd recently become Bonded to a childhood friend, her face broke out in a huge grin, all stretched thin lips below large brown eyes.
He was hired on the spot and asked to start the next morning at seven, something he agreed to. It was early, but he'd be up anyway with Stiles and it still gave them time to eat breakfast together. He could just postpone his run to later on in the evening—assuming he wouldn't be too tired.
Stiles was stoked for him when he shared the news later that afternoon, insisting they order take-out for dinner to celebrate—"Plus I'm craving pad thai like you wouldn't fucking believe, dude." "So it's nothing to do with me, just your stomach." "Sixty-forty you." They ate out the cartons at the breakfast bar, swapping and switching boxes, turned towards one another with their knees interlocked, Stiles' foot on the bar of Derek's stool. Conversation was easy and full of laughs and there was absolutely zero talk about what a dick Theo was, so the Alpha chalked the day up to a total success.
Their routine remained exactly the same when they woke up the next day, minus the run they'd normally go on during Stiles' late shifts. Surprisingly the Omega was open to joining him if and when he went in the evenings, although it was up in the air if that would include days he was on late. Not for the first time, Derek wished Stiles had a more fixed schedule, mainly one that had him working in the mornings then coming home in the afternoon so they could spend the rest of the day together, but it wasn't exactly up to the teen. For the time being, they'd just have to make do.
He arrived right on schedule, before the doors opened to the kids, meeting up with Mrs Fleming in her office as instructed. He updated his paperwork, changing his address and his emergency contact from his mom to Stiles—since it seemed like something a Bonded person would do—and handed over a voided check so she could set up direct deposit for his pay.
Business taken care of, he was led down the hall, introduced to the other caregivers as he passed, ogled by more than one of them. He'd completely forgotten that most of the employees here were Omegas, that the dynamic leaned more towards caretakers and babysitters than the others, making them ideal day care workers.
Having been an Alpha had made him stand out when he worked there in high school, parents cooing over how sweet he was, taking care of the kids rather than being out partying with his friends and causing a ruckus. Explaining to them that he was used to babysitting for his sister, cousin, and family friends just endeared him to them even more, something that embarrassed him to no end, but paid off when overly flirtations moms brought him cookies and brownies and cupcakes when they'd "accidentally" made too much, the scent of arousal and hope rolling off them as they all longed for their own Desperate Housewives moment of sleeping with the hot teenager who was good with young children.
Some days it got to the point where he wanted to yell about how their fantasy would cause them to wind up in jail rather than anyone's bed, with him being underage—not to mention not interested.
But he couldn't do any of that, especially not when those comments were aimed at his new co-workers and would result in him getting fired. Better to just shut his mouth and take it.
He was led to one of the larger rooms near the back of the building, away from where the babies and toddlers would be napping near the front, where the older kids were, those aged seven to ten, too old for pre-schooler and kindergartener activities, but too young to be allowed to stay home by themselves. Mrs Fleming led him in with a smile, explaining he'd be an assistant to one of their full time employees, a woman named...
"Jen?"
Mrs Fleming's words died in her throat and she snapped her mouth shut before plastering a smile on her face. "I take it you two know one another?" she surmised, tone light, scent unsure.
And to be honest, Derek's scent was probably smelling about the same.
His ex from college strode over in a pair of khaki capris and baby blue tank, slip on sneakers of the same color covering her feet, the hue making her eyes stand out. Her long brown hair was pulled back by two barrettes, the ends curling, laying soft over her bare shoulders. A smile was on her face, friendly and wistful, and she let out a small laugh before saying his name.
"Wow. Didn't expect to see you here," she commented lightly, still grinning.
Derek swallowed hard, not entirely sure what to expect, considering their last interaction hadn't gone well—to put it lightly—and his wolf began whining in his head, demanding they leave. "Could say the same to you," he replied, chuckling uneasily, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans and plastering a smile on his face. He tried to appear relaxed and at ease as she stepped closer, stopping a couple feet away, arms folding over her chest, but his legs were tensed and ready to run at the drop of a hat. His memories of her were still fresh and he knew that she could flip in a second and start railing at him.
Hell hath no fury, he figured.
"My Mate works in Beacon City and this seemed like a nice town to settle down in and raise our family," Jen explained, pressing her pink painted lips together as her eyes gave him an up and down, more assessing than lecherous. "You look good."
The compliment stunned him for a moment and he dumbly gave a "thanks", giving her a measuring look as well. "You, too," he added on, meaning it.
Whatever had happened in the past three years since their disastrous break-up, it had been kind to her, had done wonders. She looked a lot softer, not just in appearance, but in her personality and the way she carried herself. She was no longer hard planes and frayed edges, no longer sharp spikes and razor wire that could cut him. It was almost hard to correlate this Jen before him with the one he'd known, remembering the last time he'd seen her. Her hair wild, tangled and gnarled, mascara tracks running down her face, snot and spit and venomous words as she hurled anything and everything she could find at him, screaming about what a giant Alpha bastard he was for trying to control her life and tell her what she could or couldn't do.
All because he'd told her he wasn't ready for kids yet.
Mrs. Fleming cleared her throat, snapping their attention to her and she gestured between them with a hand. "Is this gonna be okay? Because I can put Derek elsewhere," she stated in a take-no-shit manner and he was instantly taken back to the time he snuck some of the icing for the cookies the older kids were gonna decorate around Christmas time, earning him a long reprimand and put on job probation for a month.
Hadn't been worth it. That icing had been terrible.
He turned to Jen with both eyebrows raised in question, not entirely sure. But she was still smiling softly and looking at their boss, giving a nod.
"Not a problem for me," she assured and Derek backed her up.
"Good," Mrs Fleming declared, turning to her new employee with a grave expression. "Despite what your instincts may tell you, Jen is in charge and I expect you to follow her orders. If you find you can't handle that, let me know and I'll move you to another room."
"This is fine," he told her with a small smile, already feeling at ease with his position.
She gave one long nod, glancing back and forth between them before leaving and wishing them luck.
Which felt like a jinx more than anything.
"So," Jen began, catching his attention, and he turned to watch her walk back to the other side of the room and a table against the wall. Not knowing what else to do, he meandered his way over to stand on her left, looking down at where she was reading over what appeared to be paperwork for a couple of the kids. "Thought you wanted to teach high school," she pointed out with an amused smirk.
"School's out for the summer," he reminder her, smirk of his own on his face. "Plus I was turned down for a position. Un-Bonded."
Her head turned to him at that, brow furrowed in confusion, nostrils flaring as she scented him. "Really?" she questioned dubiously. "Because you reek of Omega."
The tips of his ears turned red, but his smile returned as his wolf puffed out its chest in pride. "At the time," he amended, rubbing his hand over the back of his head. "I was un-Bonded at the time."
"Huh," Jen stated flatly, stepping away and heading back to the other side of the room, two sets of sneakers racing towards their room. "You'll have to tell me about him later."
His grin became more genuine and he ducked his head to hide it, wringing the back of his neck, as two boys came barreling into the room. He took a deep breath and braced himself for the crazy, watching as Jen instructed them to put their backpacks on the table in the back as always, the pair yelling and charging the table before the shorter of the two dove on top, his darker-skinned friend laughing and encouraging the behavior. Jen gave Derek a wide-eyed look across the room then sighed and strode over, reminding them the table wasn't a beast they needed to conquer, still.
Maybe Mrs Fleming had been on to something when she'd wished them luck.
Their group was small, but eclectic and loud. Liam and Mason were the initial boys who'd shown up, apparently best bros who were joined at the hip, reminding Derek a lot of Stiles and Scott. Garrett was next, a blond boy who turned his nose up at all of Jen's suggestions of activities, not really saying anything until a cocoa skinned girl named Violet showed, the two of them sticking close together and not interacting with the others. Brett and his younger sister Amy—who was technically too young for their room, but Brett refused to let her out of his sight—were next to arrive, joining Liam and Mason as they made paper swords to battle the "beast" with. The final arrival was a girl named Hayden that Liam wound up following around like a puppy with stars in his eyes.
Halfway through the morning, they took the kids outside to the basketball court, Garrett and Violet playing on one hoop, Brett, Liam, and Mason the other, with Hayden and Amy sitting in the grass making daisy chains and wearing them as crowns.
Jen and Derek sat on a nearby bench and chatted, catching each other up on their lives. She apologized profusely for her behavior the last time they'd seen one another, explaining that she'd been in a terrible place and had been to therapy since—"I found out that it wasn't you that I was in love with, but the idea of what you could offer as far as Matings and kids, and when you wanted to leave, I had a breakdown because I thought I was losing all that forever." "And here I thought you just couldn't bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight." "Wow. Nice ego, Hale." "It's a Star Wars quote. Stiles would've appreciated it".
She also went on to tell about how she found her Mate a year later, a high end defense attorney Alpha who worked at Deucalion and Valack in Beacon City— "Oh shit. It's not my sister, is it?" "No, her name is Kali. Why? Would me being with your sister be that bad?" "Honestly? Kinda, yeah." "Ouch, Derek." "You just told me you were more upset over losing my sperm than me. You deserve the burn."—and that they were currently going through the adoption process.
Derek congratulated her, unable to help the way his wolf whimpered as he realized it was yet another person he knew who was moving on to the next stage in their life, getting what he one day wanted for himself.
Granted a lot could change in four years. Hell, it had only been three since he'd last seen Jen and she was a totally different person with a totally different mindset in a totally different place in life. There was always a chance that things between himself and Stiles would shift and change, too, that maybe they'd fall in love and decide to do this Bonding thing for real, leading to an eventual Mating, then the big house with the white fence and the kids and the dog...
Or maybe things would stay exactly as they were and in four years time, Stiles would be gone and Derek would get a dog all by himself.
Jen asked him about his Bonded and Derek smiled, telling her about how their families were friends and he used to babysit him, then when they ran back into each other a couple weeks ago and the Alpha scented him he just...knew. She grinned the entire time, letting him ramble about how they were living together, Stiles' plans for college then becoming a deputy, how smart he was and funny and vibrant and easy to talk to and chatty yet a good listener when he needed to be.
"You sound like a man in love," she commented a little dreamily, eyes sparkling at him, knowing exactly what that felt like.
"Yeah," he breathed out, staring at the grass between his sneakers and trying to figure out if he was agreeing for the facade of their arrangement or because he actually meant it.
His day went fairly smoothly, considering he spent most of it surrounded by adolescents, and at five-ten pm, he was on his way home.
Several large boxes were waiting for him outside his loft door when he got home and he hauled them inside one at a time, taking them straight to the Heat room to unpack later on. He took a shower and changed into a pair of sweats and an old tee before getting dinner together in time for Stiles to walk in.
"Okay, no fair you're in sweats and I'm not," the Omega complained, dumping his keys and wallet on the end of the breakfast bar, scowling at Derek.
"No one told you you weren't allowed," he pointed out, carrying the pot of pasta he'd cooked over to the sink and giving a pointed look over his shoulder.
Stiles flailed his arms then waved one at him in dismissal. "Not the point," he grumbled before tromping his way over to the bedroom area, tossing his phone on the bed and kicking off his sneakers.
Derek shook his head and smirked in amusement, draining the pasta as the sounds of rustling fabric hit his ears, most likely the Omega grabbing a change of clothes before he headed to the bathroom to change. Turning, he carried the pot back to the stove, putting it on a cool ring, movement catching his eye. He looked up to see what was going on, only for his jaw to drop and his eyes to go wide.
Because Stiles wasn't changing in the bathroom.
He'd dropped trou right there in the open.
And not just his pants, but his underwear, too. Shirt, socks, all of it was gone. Just a naked Stiles with his back to Derek, totally unaware that he was being gawked at.
Because the Alpha was gawking, there was no other word to describe it. He was unashamedly staring, mouth hanging open, eyebrows raised, breath frozen in his chest as he took in the lean frame across the loft from him. He briefly lamented the fact that he was so far away and that he couldn't get a good look, but what he could see had his dick twitching and his wolf rumbling in pleasure.
Stiles was all long lines and smooth skin—from what he could tell at that distance, he was sure there were countless moles and freckles speckled across his skin—a lean torso and nice legs. His ass was perfectly rounded, not too big, but enough that Derek imagined would fill his hand as he grabbed onto it, as he held those cheeks apart and delved between them. The shape of it got better when Stiles bent over to pull his gray sweats up his legs and the Alpha felt a drop of saliva at the corner of his mouth but made no move to wipe it away. His cock twitched in his pants, plumping up and he subconsciously reached down, cupping it through black cotton.
Fuck what he wouldn't give to just walk across the apartment, to shuck his own sweats and slide his dick between those cheeks as the Omega bent over, to get him nice and wet before slipping his fingers in, finding that special button that made him cry out. He'd turn Stiles into a panting, whining, begging mess, only letting his cock slide inside when he was mumbling nonsense, when the only words he was capable of were "please" and "Derek."
The younger man straightened up, pants now around his waist, head moving around the air before turning sideways and Derek could see that he was scenting the air.
Shit.
Busted.
He quickly snapped his head down, staring at what was on the counter and trying to figure out what the hell he was doing. But his mind was gone, every synapse burst at the sight of Stiles' bare ass, all the blood in the wrong head.
'Alpha Beta Omega,' he mentally reminded himself. 'Alpha Beta Omega. Alpha Beta Omega. Alpha Beta Omega.'
"You okay?"
His head jerked to the left to find Stiles entering the kitchenette, eyebrow quirked in question as he opened the fridge door, concern rolling off him in waves. But not arousal. Meaning that if he had scented it off Derek, it hadn't affected him in any way.
Which was a definite boner killer.
Derek ducked his head, clearing his throat and nodding. "Long day," he lied easily, wringing the back of his neck as he looked along the counter in a second attempt to figure out what the fuck was going on. Dinner. He knew that much.
A large hand rested gently between his shoulder blades and he turned once again to look at Stiles, taking in the black tee and gray sweats he had on. He raised an eyebrow of his own before glancing down at his own black sweats and gray tee, before giving Stiles a pointed look. The Omega took the hint, looking at both their outfits then snorting.
"That one wasn't me," the older man stated.
Stiles shrugged, not seeming bothered by it, patting the Alpha's back. "Go sit. I'll dish it up," he instructed before shoving him out the way. "Tell me how your first day went."
Derek rounded the counter then dropped down onto one of the stools, proceeding to do just that, even telling Stiles about how he was now working side by side with his ex—"Wait,.Jen? Crazy Jen? The one who threw a lamp at your head?" "In the direction of my head, yeah." "Hope the furniture in that place is attached to the ground."
They ate side by side with interlocked knees again, both discussing their days, coming up with plans for the weekend—"I gotta help Boyd paint the nursery. I owe him." "You gotta owe him huge if you're putting up with Prego-Zilla for it." "There's no longer a hole in my wall. I owe him huge."—and Stiles volunteered to go with.
After dinner, they crashed on the couch to watch TV, where Stiles proceeded to throw his legs over Derek's lap and put the Alpha's arm around his shoulders to use his bicep as a neck pillow while he channel surfed. Part of the older man wanted to complain solely out of principal, but found he couldn't. Not when he and his wolf were both so damn happy.
He wondered if Jen had been right about him being in love and he suddenly got very fucking scared.
Their usual routine changed once Derek got a job.
They still woke up at five am and Stiles still dragged ass to the shower while Derek made breakfast, the two eating together before they both cleaned up the kitchen and made the bed as a team. Only now the Alpha was leaving at six-forty every day for work, whereas the younger man left at six-thirty on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Derek got home at five-thirty or so every day and when Stiles was home, they'd head off on a run together before the Omega made them dinner.
Saturday mornings became grocery shopping days, both of them doing it together. During their first time, an elderly woman—an Omega by the scent of her—commented on Stiles' ability to drag his Alpha out to help with errands, the teen confused because it had been Derek's idea that they go together, something that had surprised her further. Derek gruffly pointed out that Stiles' dynamic wasn't the only one that faced discrimination and stereotypes and they left it at that, heading to the next aisle.
The rest of the day was usually spent with friends, either alone or together, neither one wanting to become that guy who got in a relationship and their entire world shrank down to just their partner and they lost contact with everyone else. They helped Boyd paint the nursery—or rather Derek helped, while Stiles hung out with Erica, sorting out baby clothes and discussing gender neutral name ideas—spent time with Scott and Allison as they looked for a place of their own, helped the sheriff host a barbecue when he announced that Melissa would soon be moving in with him—right after Scott moved out, of course.
Sundays were still Lazy Sundays though, the two of them slobbing around in their pajamas before having to get dressed to have dinner at the Hale house. The questions about their living situation tapered off, the novelty of their relationship gone, and everyone acted with a quiet acceptance towards them. Every now and then, Derek would catch Laura watching them with a curious stare, but he ignored it, refusing to think too much about it.
The Heat room slowly came together as everything arrived. Isaac helped him out—Derek figuring it was safe to have another Omega's scent in the room, but put a couple scent neutralizing air fresheners in there just in case—filming as Derek unrolled the mattress that had arrived in the mail—"Why am I filming this again?" "Because Stiles would wanna see it." "You are so totally slick-whipped, man.". The Alpha also got reassurance that the blond Isaac was interested in wasn't Theo, but Jackson, something that still had him groaning but not nearly as bad as it would've been had it been the dick Stiles worked with.
Stiles proved to be a great roommate and partner, picking up on the housework when Derek was at work and the Omega was at home. He took over laundry duties—a job the Alpha hated with a passion—heading down to the building's laundromat every Thursday like clockwork and soon, Derek's clothes began to smell more like StilesAndDerek, a fact that had him wolf practically purring.
His job was going great, things between him and Jennifer cordial and respectful, and he soon found himself becoming friends with her. The only issues that ever seemed to arise was his jealousy when she updated him on her and Kali's adoption process, but he never let it show, always happy she was happy and in a good place. He bonded with the kids he worked with, mainly Liam, Mason, and Brett, playing basketball and soccer and baseball outside with them. He was pretty sure Amy gained a crush on him, frequently giving him dandelions she'd picked or drawings she'd made. Stiles thought it was adorable and hung the pictures on the fridge, commenting on how they were gonna need more magnets soon.
Derek sent an email to Ms Finch at the beginning of July, updating her on his Bonded status and she replied with a promise to meet again in August. Laura's warning about possibly not getting the job came back to him, a small paranoid part of him worried that she'd be right, that he won't get hired just because he was Bonded, but he didn't show it or voice any of it to Stiles. He just relished the Omega's excitement over their plan coming together and mentally assured himself that it would be okay, he already had a back-up job in place and there was always next year.
He found himself hoping he wouldn't get hired, that Ms Finch would tell him to come back next semester or next school year, that she needed him to be more established in his Bond before she could give him a position. A year's delay in being hired would mean a year's delay in getting tenure and would hopefully extend their scheme another year, too, and give him more time with Stiles.
Because the more he was around the Omega, the more he realized he didn't want to let him go. They moved around one another too perfectly, fit together too perfectly, proof they were made for one another. He had no clue how he was supposed to wake up every morning and not be greeted by a litany of swears as he woke Stiles up. He had no clue how he was supposed to eat his meals without a rambling commentary on every damn thing, hands flying around nearly sending cutlery soaring. He had no clue how he was supposed to watch TV in the evenings without his Omega curled around him, legs draped over his lap and arm wrapped around Stiles' shoulders.
He had no clue, and he didn't want to find out.
At the end of his second full week of employment, Derek surprised Stiles by having them cook dinner together, deciding to add a new facet to their routine.
"Stir Fry-days?" the Omega questioned with a smirk, obviously having gotten the reference Derek was making when he pointed at a packet of steaks he'd bought and told Stiles to cut them up while he chopped up a couple bell peppers.
"Yep," the older man smiled back, making sure he didn't slice a finger. "Figured with all the Archer you watch, you'd appreciate it."
"That show is fucking hilarious and highly under-appreciated," the teen insisted, setting to work.
They prepped the food side-by-side, discussing favorite moments on the show, then debating Pam vs Cheryl in a game of Who'd You Rather—"Pam kinda scares me with all that freaky shit she's into." "Cheryl likes being choked. How's that not freaky?" "Honestly, I'm kinda curious about what it'd be like to choke someone." "That's fucked up, Stiles."—which shifted into who was hotter: Lana or Katya—"Lana. And only partially because I feel like Katya could and would do more damage to me during sex." "Okaaaay, but Der. It vibrates. Total sploosh" "Doesn't matter. I still feel like she'd somehow manage to literally squeeze my dick off."—followed by Who's More Annoying: Ray vs Cyril—"Cyril. How is this a debate?" "Ray keeps getting crippled though." "Not entirely his fault for one. And two, it's Cyril, Derek." "Point taken.".
Talk soon shifted to who was cooler: Han Solo or Sterling Archer—neither of them even sure whose side they were on since neither could make up their own mind—which further turned into a dinner discussion over what they believed the dynamics of the three main characters in the original Star Wars trilogy were, since it was never flat out said.
"Fuck you, man. There is no fucking way Luke Skywalker is anything less than a Beta," Stiles stated firmly, pointing a fork-speared piece of beef at Derek as they sat at the breakfast bar, having given up on meals at the table for good a week ago.
"Swear to god, he's an Omega," Derek argued, pausing to take a drink of his water. "And shouldn't the Omega be the one arguing that and not the Alpha?"
"He's not an Omega," Stiles insisted before swallowing. "No leading man in an action film is, especially not back in the seventies and eighties. The producers wouldn't have let it happen." He shrugged a shoulder, scent a sad sort of resignation.
Which honestly just pissed the older man off. He knew society fucking sucked and knew that Omegas had it the worst, but it shouldn't be to the point where an Omega just accepted his lot in life, especially not Stiles. That guy would argue that a zebra had spots and not stripes, just to debate it and be a pain in the ass.
The Alpha shook his head, determined to prove him wrong, determined to prove that being the lead hero didn't mean you weren't an Omega. "That's exactly why I think he is one," he began, turning more in his seat to face Stiles, food forgotten about. "George Lucas is an Omega, we know that, right? And let's face it, Luke Skywalker is a huge fucking self-insertion solely due to the guy's fucking name. I truly believe that George Lucas was sick of all these action stars being Alphas, or Betas at the least, and not only set out to change the face of science-fiction and space movies, but also how people viewed Omegas. He wanted to prove that they could be the heroes and the victors, the ones with the magical powers to move shit with their minds. He wanted to show that Omegas could be more than just the damsel in distress who needed saving by the heroic Alpha. But that wouldn't have gone over well back in the day so he made no mention of their dynamics. I mean, let's face it, how many movies have you seen where the hero actually goes out of his way to say he's an Alpha?"
Stiles snorted and rolled his eyes. "Too fucking many," he muttered, stabbing some peppers onto his fork. "But that argument makes sense. It's why I think Steve Rogers is an Omega, too. Because of what Erskine said in the movie, ya know? A strong man who is used to strength doesn't appreciate it. Steve being an Omega means he's used to being shoved around and forced to submit, so he has a greater appreciation for these muscles and powers and doesn't take advantage of his new found leadership. Whereas most stereotypical Alphas are used to being in charge and followed without question."
"And people followed Steve because of what he stood for and his values, rather than the fact that he Alpha Commanded them into it," Derek added on, impressed pout forming on his head. "Stark is definitely an Alpha though."
"Oh hands fucking down. An ego like that?" He made a "pfft" noise, head rearing back. "Has to be an Alpha."
A discussion on the dynamics of all the Avengers started, expanding to the comic Avengers, to Marvel in general, Deadpool proving to be a highly controversial one that neither of them were willing to back down on. Before Derek knew it, his ass was numb and Stiles was stifling his third yawn in the past five minutes. A quick glance at his phone showed it was past eleven, and that they'd been talking for over four hours about nonsense.
And he wouldn't trade a fucking minute of it.
"We should head to bed," he suggested, Stiles whining as he tipped his head back and slumped in his seat.
"But we're having fuuuun," the Omega pointed out, pouting and flashing puppy dog eyes at Derek, nudging his shin with a sock-covered toe.
"I don't caaaaare," he mimicked, rising to his feet and collecting his dishes. "I'm exhausted and so are you and we both need sleep."
Stiles blew a raspberry and gave a thumbs down. "Not like we have work tomorrow."
"No, we just have groceries to get and you have to help your dad clean out the attic and I have shit to do around here." He gave the younger man a pointed look as he headed to the sink, carefully setting them in the steel basin and flipping on the water.
"Shit for my surprise? Which I may or may not see sometime this year?" the Omega quipped, stool scrapping along the concrete floor as he rose to his feet, silverware clattering against the ceramic plate as he gathered his own things.
"You might never see it at all with that attitude."
"Pfft!" the teen responded, soon joining him at the sink and laying his plates in the soapy water, grabbing the dishtowel to dry them off as Derek washed. "You wouldn't be able to stand not letting me see it."
He was right, but that didn't mean the Alpha had to admit it.
Although judging by the smirk that formed on Stiles' face when Derek didn't respond, he clearly didn't need to admit it since the Omega figured it out for himself.
Damn.
Dishes done and put up, they both headed to the bedroom area, where Stiles gathered up his pajamas from under his pillow and started heading to the bathroom.
Again.
Because he still wasn't changing in front of Derek, for whatever fucked up reason, and it was beginning to almost seem offensive in a way. Did he not trust the Alpha? Did he not believe that Derek wouldn't look or jump him? Did he not feel comfortable in their home, even a month after living there?
Was it something Derek had done or said, or hadn't done or said?
Stiles stepped around the end of the bed, pausing when the older man called his name, eyebrows raised in expectation at he turned his head to him.
"Why do you do that?" the Alpha questioned, his own brows furrowed into a confused line, wolf whimpering in his head. "Why do you always change in the bathroom? Not like you've never been naked in front of anyone before. And you've changed in front of other guys in locker rooms so why do—?"
"Right, but that's a locker room," he interrupted, turning to fully face him, arms folded over his chest, PJs draped over them, face grave as though he was preparing for a heated debate and not just a simple conversation. "There's kind of an unspoken rule that you keep your eyes above someone's waist. Unless you're a douchebag who wants to, like, compare sizes. Or a perv."
Well, okay...
Derek seesawed his head, somewhat seeing the point. "Then I promise I won't look below your waist. How 'bout that?"
He didn't bother pointing out how he'd already broken that rule technically, having peeked below Stiles' waist and getting a nice view of his naked ass. Because it didn't count. That happened before this discussion and was therefore inadmissible.
He was watching too many procedural dramas with Stiles if he was throwing that around in his own mental vernacular.
The Omega licked his lips then pressed them into a hard line, leg shaking as he turned away, not making eye contact. His scent was nervous, unsure, and Derek worried that he'd maybe pushed too far, that he'd struck a raw nerve and was making the other man completely uncomfortable.
"I didn't," the Alpha began, huffing when he couldn't think of the right words. "It wasn't meant to be an accusation or me insisting you change out here. I was just wondering. I thought maybe it was something about me."
Stiles' head snapped to him with wide eyes but he didn't say a word, scent growing curious as he narrowed his eyes and parted his lips in an action he probably didn't even realize he was doing.
The older man shrugged, rubbing at the back of his head before gesturing to him with an open palm. "You know I'm not gonna jump you or anything. You can trust me. I can keep my hands to myself." He put on a reassuring smile and an innocent expression, keeping his scent neutral and light.
The Omega looked around the room once more, leg still shaking, not saying anything.
Still.
Shit.
Derek's wolf began whining in his head, feeling as though he'd fucked up, and the human part of him completely agreed. It wasn't that Stiles wasn't ever silent, it just happened so rarely that it would catch the Alpha off-guard. Usually the speechlessness was due to being so overwhelmed by something that it took a minute for him to sift through his racing thoughts and figure out a reaction—at least that's how the teen had explained it. And judging by the lack of words and the fact that his scent was turning slightly salty with upset, clearly Derek had said something that pushed him past his boundaries and he was scrambling to get back in them.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, swallowing. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you wanna keep changing in the bathroom, you can, I'm not gonna make you do anything." With that, he snatched up his own pajamas, laying them on the bed in a heap before grabbing the back of his shirt to lift it over his head.
The sound of fabric rustling caught his attention and once he had his tee all the way off, he looked to find that Stiles had dropped his own PJs on the bed, too, and was working on unbuckling his belt. A small smile formed on Derek's face, more glad that the younger man was comfortable enough around him to do that rather than pleased that he was about to—possibly—see his Mate naked.
Stiles caught the look and shrugged a shoulder in a phony sense of nonchalance, forcing the corner of his lips up in a semblance of a smile. The older man nodded once then ducked his head, keeping his eyes on his clothes and what he was doing.
But if he happened to peek up to catch a glimpse of bare belly and a happy trail he wanted to nuzzle his nose in and follow south, then he couldn't entirely be blamed. The best way to get rid of temptation was to give in to it. It was a cliché for a reason.
