Disclaimer: Derek and Stiles sadly do not belong to me. Nor does Teen Wolf. Weh.
Warnings: Not canon-complacent, angst, humor, crossdressing, fabulous drag queen OCs, pining, courting, mating, D/s, knotting, rimming, licking, cum eating, animalistic/feral/possessive behaviors, PackMom!Stiles, PackDaddy!Derek, puppy piles, affectionate poly!pack, pet names, Daddy kink, Twilight references, potential OOC
Sunlight filters through the open curtains the next morning and Stiles wrinkles his nose when it finally reaches his closed eyelids, not wanting to wake up just yet.
Eventually, he huffs and languidly blinks the room into focus, snuffling into Derek's chest before looking over to see Jackson's peaceful face still slack with slumber on the Alpha's other side.
He reaches over and lightly traces the curve of his face with a fingertip, smiling when Jackson twitches and hazy blue eyes slowly flutter open under his touch.
"G'morning, sexy," he whispers, grinning, and gets a shy muzzy one in return.
"Morning," Jackson yawns, nuzzling his cheek into Stiles's open palm with a hum and giving the meat of his thumb a little peck.
Stiles coos and couldn't help rising up onto an elbow to lean over for a kiss, slow and loving - thankful they'd brushed their teeth last night because bad morning breath? Ick.
"Mm," he purrs, pulling away a bit. "Wanna help me make breakfast?" he asks, nudging their noses together.
"Yeah. Sure," Jackson says in reply, rubbing at his eye and blinking before they get up and carefully extract themselves from Derek's arms. He snickers when he sees the boxers Stiles had pulled on last night after their shower – white with red hearts decorating it as opposed to his own navy blue boxer briefs – and Stiles sticks his tongue out at him playfully.
The brunet replaces himself with his own pillow when Derek unconsciously begins seeking for something to cuddle up against now that they weren't pressed up to him, the big softie.
The two stifle their snickers when Derek clutches the pillow to his chest and snuffles into it, inhaling Stiles's scent in his sleep before turning onto his side, curling himself around it. It won't hold him for long, so they amble into the adjoining bathroom to freshen up and put on lounge clothes before heading downstairs to the kitchen to start breakfast, hand in hand with their fingers lazily tangled together.
Since it's Valentine's day, Stiles is busy manning the stove making heart shaped pancakes with the help a large cookie cutter stencil while the waffle maker - complete with interchangeable plates – sits next to him on the counter cooking up heart shaped waffles.
Jackson is on his other side slicing up fruit in the shape of hearts - strawberries, oranges, even little banana slices.
The two work together in compatible silence, moving around each other easily until Jackson's ears perk up and he turns his head towards the entrance way, Stiles following suit after he plates his latest fluffy golden pancake.
Just as he'd thought, it didn't take long for Derek to get up and find them once he realized he was alone in bed, the Alpha adorably sleep rumpled standing there in only his pajama bottoms with his feet poking out, knuckling at his barely opened eyes one-handed with his hair laying flat on his head from lack of product.
He shuffles into the kitchen groggily like a zombie, following his nose until it finds itself attached to Stiles's neck after a gentle bump, making the boys chuckle.
"Morning, sleepy wolf!" Stiles greets him affectionately with a kiss to his temple, reaching a hand up to scratch at Derek's scalp.
"Mmph," is his grunted reply as Derek snuffles and burrows his face into the hollow of his throat above his ever-present collar, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind to anchor him in place.
This is not meant to be, though, as Stiles wiggles around in his embrace until they're chest to chest, cradling the wolf's face in his hands before leaning in for a proper kiss good morning, which gets him another purr-growl from Derek.
The Alpha gently scents his face, trailing his nose down the curve of his cheek before pulling back to give his mate a little smile underneath sleepy hazel eyes.
Stiles's heart warms at the sight, because that smile is only meant for him. He grins in return before Derek turns his head and reaches out a hand to grab Jackson.
The pup comes willingly when Derek tugs at his arm, and parts his lips when his Alpha leans in for a kiss hello from him too.
Stiles sighs happily. Honestly, he could watch them make out for hours (and he has). It's like his own private live gay porn. So epically awesome.
When they part, Derek scents his omega as well, cradling both his boys to his chest and rubbing his scruffy cheek against the top of their heads.
Stiles laughs while Jackson soaks in all of his Alpha's affections serenely.
"Why don't you get started on setting the table, hm? I'll put Derek on fruit duty now that he's up and about," says Stiles after a while of calm morning cuddles, giving Jackson a quick nose-nudge.
The blond nods and rubs his cheek against Stiles's, getting once last peck from Derek before sauntering off towards the cabinets.
He doesn't get far before the sounds of running footsteps catches all of their attention.
Erica bursts into the kitchen moments later, Allison and Lydia not far behind her, and she pounces on her Alpha when her eyes land on him. "Derek!" she yells and leaps into his arms, clinging to him like a spider monkey and peppering kisses all over his face in her excitement. The older wolf, to his credit, doesn't even flinch and shifts her into a more comfortable position, his strong arms under her bum. Stiles snorts merrily behind his fist from the sidelines.
After she's had her fill, Erica is set down back onto her feet with Allison and Lydia flanking her, the she-wolf nuzzling right up to him. "Welcome home, Daddy-Alpha," she says with a hand on his chest and a mischievous look in her eye.
Derek quirks a brow at her, getting a waggle of her own in reply, and grunts, "Naughty pup." He boops her nose with a gentle finger.
Erica merely cackles and steps back to let Allison lean up and kiss the Alpha's jaw, welcoming him home with a sweet smile. Derek softly kisses her forehead and thanks her before turning to the prim redhead on his other side. Lydia steps up and offers him her cheek as he leans down, carefully pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth. Unlike Stiles who revels in being marked, Lydia doesn't tolerate beard burn.
After the girls move on further to the dining room, in come Boyd and Danny, the former clasping forearms with his Alpha and touching their foreheads together briefly while the latter cups Derek's face in his hands and kisses him hello with a dimpled smile.
Scott and Isaac trail in after them, glomping their Alpha happily when they see him, and he ruffles their hair before the two are off to help Jackson and Danny finish setting the table, Erica getting the glasses while Allison readies the juice and milk, and Lydia helps herself to some of the coffee already brewed and ready to be consumed. Boyd is prepping a couple frying pans next to Stiles for eggs, bacon, sausage, and hash browns.
When the older members of the pack amble in, Peter greets his nephew with his signature smarmy smirk and a cheek rub full of...well, cheek - while John smiles warmly and gives him a hearty hug welcome back as well as a lip smack to the temple, Chris giving a nod and shooting him a small grin before clapping him on the shoulder.
Derek accepts it all with grace and Stiles couldn't help smiling as he flips another pancake and ladles in another waffle. He loves his pack. Even creeper Peter (but don't tell him that).
Today is gonna be a good day.
That evening everyone has plans to celebrate the holiday. Scott, Allison, Lydia and Isaac are going to the movies while Boyd and Erica are off to the bowling alley. Jackson and Danny head to Jungle for some much needed bro-time, and to hang out with the ladies if they happen to be there tonight.
The Sheriff, Chris and Peter stay in for the evening, opting to watch movies that were popular during the 80's in the living room and reminisce on good times past while splitting a huge bowl of popcorn that Stiles had approved of.
This leaves Stiles to get ready for his date with Derek.
Fresh from his recent shower and towel drying his hair in a robe, he pads around his personal room - a boudoir that serves as another bedroom, as well as a study and a place where he keeps odds and ends like Scarlet's things, one of which is a large antique vanity table he'd gotten for a steal at the flea market – towards his spacious walk-in closet and heads to the back where he keeps his delicate under-things.
After carefully making his lingerie selections for the night, Stiles ditches his robe and sets about putting them on, shimmying into a pair of soft pink panties trimmed in white lace and carefully rolling on the sheer ivory stockings up his shaved legs. A matching garter belt soon sits nice and snug at his waist and he clips the stockings in place.
Wiggling his sheathed toes against the soft plush carpet, Stiles hums as he goes about picking out the rest of his outfit and laying it all on the end of the bed when he's satisfied, slipping into a pair of comfy silver pumps before he takes a seat at his vanity and ponders his make-up choices.
Hm, should he go smoky or earthy hues for his eyes? Lips? Bright colors were out in this case, that's for sure. In the end he decides to go with a light and natural look, and gets to work on powdering his face, because of course 'light and natural' requires just as much time and effort as any other look.
He grumbles internally at this universal travesty.
Minutes later, just as he's finished sweeping his eyelashes with the mascara brush one last time, he finally notices Derek's dark form through the mirror when he's done, the Alpha leaning against his door frame with his beefy arms crossed over his equally beefy chest, freshly shaven and dressed in a white half done-up oxford that Stiles suspects is the same exact one Jackson was wearing last night, tucked in a pair of charcoal gray dress pants perfectly pressed and hugging him in all the right, uh, assets.
Amber eyes smolder. Mm, yummy.
"Hey there, handsome," he grins, winks lasciviously, and caps his mascara as his mate pushes off the door and slowly slinks his way over to him.
He's just about to reach for a lipstick when Derek is suddenly there behind him, closing his fingers over Stiles's wrist in a loose hold to stop his movements as the other hand comes to rest on his shoulder.
Derek presses his face into the crook of Stiles's neck and inhales deeply, taking in the sweet, heady combination of his mate's natural scent and the perfume he has on – one that doesn't offend his sensitive werewolf olfactory nerves (specifically purchased for that reason) – as well as the scent of warm leather from his collar, smirking when he gets a delicious little shiver.
"Mm, Der," Stiles begins softly, "I need to finish getting ready." Despite his words though, Stiles is tipping his head to the side for more and Derek obliges, kissing up and down his neck with warm, loving lips.
"In a minute," Derek murmurs back and nibbles on his ear, trailing his hands up and presses his thumbs in, massaging Stiles's neck and shoulders, and rubbing out any knots he happens to come across.
In front of him, Stiles groans and sighs in relief as his muscles give way under Derek's gentle insistence, leaning back into his Alpha's chest and turning his face to nuzzle his cheek.
"Hmm, I like it when you shave," he says absently and lifts a hand to run the back of it across smooth skin, rubbing their cheeks together and knowing he's getting a raised eyebrow even without looking through the mirror.
"Should I do it more often?" Derek asks back, and Stiles shakes his head a little.
"Maybe once in a while? I like your scruff and beard, too."
He could feel Derek smiling. "Okay," the wolf agrees softly and presses his lips to his forehead.
Derek's hands in the meantime travel south, finger tips circling around his nipples, making Stiles shudder against him.
"Seriously though, I need to finish getting ready or we'll be late."
Derek hums in acknowledgment, but his hands aren't listening, trailing even lower until one of them reaches down and cups him through his panties.
Stiles mewls, legs automatically parting for his mate, and bucks up into the touch involuntarily before whining out, "Der-ekkk. Stop it. Don't tease me." He pouts.
Derek huffs in amusement and nips at his neck, then pulls away entirely. Stiles swallows back a noise of protest at this before the Alpha is stepping to his side and offering him his hands. "Stand up for me? Wanna see you."
The brunet bites his lip softly, smiling when he hears Derek growl from his chest, and takes hold of the hands in front of him. He's helped up onto his heels and led away from the vanity, hips swaying as he does, before Derek lets him go and twirls a finger in front of him.
Stiles crosses his ankles and slowly turns around on the balls of his feet in a full 360 as bid, hands out by his sides and wrist turned up daintily as he shows off for his mate. "Well? What do you think?" he asks when he's facing him again, voice a little higher, a little breathier; more feminine. He flutters his darkened eyelashes coyly.
Derek doesn't answer in words. Instead, he rumbles deep like a thunderstorm, gorgeous hazel eyes bleeding into brilliant Alpha red as they rake up and down his body. Slowly, he starts to saunter around Stiles, a predator stalking his prey, before stopping back in front of him and slipping into his personal bubble.
Stiles holds himself still and closes his eyes as the Alpha gingerly scents him, tilting his head into it as the tip of Derek's nose barely grazes the planes of his face, warm minty breath puffing against his cheek. The heat of his mate so near is intoxicating and he finds himself swaying towards it until they're neatly pressed together, limbs entangled.
He purrs and parts his lips for a kiss, something Derek is more that happy to give him. Long dexterous fingers bury themselves into his mate's thick dark hair as big, warm hands stroke and wander down the bare skin of his back. Derek toys with the hem of his panties and he moans, arching into him when those hands grab handfuls of his ass and squeeze roughly.
A squeak is startled out of him when he's suddenly hauled and lifted up into Derek's arms, his ankles crossing automatically over the small of Derek's back as he clings to his mate's neck.
Derek lays him out on the bed, pressing him into the mattress with the power of one single passionate kiss, distracting him from noticing how the Alpha's hands trail down dangerously low until Derek cups the half chub trapped in its silken prison with one palm, the other holding his hip.
Stiles breaks their kiss with a gasp. "N-...n-no...don't. Derek," he whines, moaning helplessly when his mate doesn't listen and moves on to gently maul the space between his collar and his jaw, his hand continuing to grope and molest him until he's fully hard, clever, wicked fingertips rubbing at his taint through his panties. Stiles clutches his shoulders, not being able to do much else but tilt his head to the side and submit. "Our reservations..."
"We'll just have to make this quick then," Derek lifts his head and smirks at him, leaning in for a dirty little kiss before getting to work.
Stiles watches him through lidded eyes as he kisses his way down his chest and stomach, pausing to play with his nipples briefly which makes him squirm, before unclipping his garters and hooking his fingers into his panties to tug them down his legs until they dangle uselessly on one of his ankles. That's all Derek needs to do really, before the Alpha is on his knees and pulls Stiles to the edge of the bed for easier access, throwing his legs over his broad shoulders.
"Nnyuh~!" Stiles cries out, toes curling in his heels and fingers clenching the sheets above his head when Derek burrows his face into his ass and starts to lick him out with gusto, like a starved animal. "U-unh, Daddy..."
Derek groans and digs his tongue right in, wiggling it just right until he's in as deep as he can go. He licks and sucks and fucks Stiles until he cries, pulling away slightly to drag his tongue up his wet, twitching cock before swallowing it down whole. His eyelashes flutter. "Mmm..."
"A-ah! Ahn!" Stiles's mouth drops open and his chest arches up sharply, the boy trembling there before chewing on his lip as tears prick his eyes. "Daddy! Mmn, Daddy..."
"Always tastes so good, baby."
"Please," he mewls and chokes on a moan as Derek starts to suck him in earnest. His whole body flinches when a dry fingertip skims over the rim of his hole, the digit coming back lubed after he hears Derek blindly rummage around the nightstand nearby.
The finger slowly circles his entrance before making its way inside him, then one becomes two, and minutes later two becomes three. It isn't long until Stiles is riding those fingers urgently, soft breathy sounds falling from his mouth unbidden.
"Make that pretty pussy clench for me, baby girl." Stiles whimpers but does as he's told.
"Want to cum...want to cummm~" he moans out, little pink tongue peeking out of his mouth to lick at his lips seductively. Derek growls and hits his prostate in response, stays there and massages it firmly. "Nnn!"
"Fuck," the Alpha swears roughly, twisting his wrist and curling his fingers, watching them drive Stiles mad with want.
"Breed my pussy, Daddy," he begs, hands clutching at his own hair. "Please! Put your knot in me."
"Later," Derek promises soothingly, glancing at the clock as he kisses his inner thigh, "For now, I want you to cum, baby. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes!"
"Good girl." Stiles cries as Derek takes him back into his mouth, couldn't stop the noises pouring forth from his lips and gushes down Derek's throat moments later, his vision whiting out as the Alpha swallows again and again, his hand still busy finger-fucking the boy's wet hole until Stiles whines from over-sensitivity.
Gradually, Stiles comes back into himself when he feels gentle kisses rain down all over his face - his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his forehead – and blindly searches for those lips with his own. A small happy noise escapes him when Derek chuckles and kisses him properly, little butterflies kisses to his mouth all in a row.
When Derek pulls back, Stiles notices his panties are pulled back up and his garters are clipped in place again. Then he notices the large bulge in Derek's pants.
"You didn't cum," he says, concerned as he reaches out a hand, "Can I?"
Derek's eyes are soft as his lips quirk up. "Of course. If you'd like."
Stiles nods enthusiastically at that. "Yes, please," he says and slides off the bed to sink to his knees, shivering slightly at how slick he still feels inside and the saliva he feels drying before making grabby hands at his mate until Derek steps in between his spread thighs.
Stiles carefully nuzzles his bare lips against Derek's groin with a purring sigh, mouthing at the bulge before unzipping Derek's pants with his teeth. Quick, agile fingers undo Derek's leather belt and the button of his pants before pulling them down, as well as his boxer briefs, just enough for Stiles to get at his hardened cock.
The boy moans and licks at the tip of his length all kitten-like before opening his mouth wide and taking him in whole. Derek lets his head fall back with a groan, knowing he's not gonna last as his fingers card through his mate's hair, before both his hands come up to hold Stiles's head still. He pulls out and pushes back into that reddened mouth experimentally, seeing if his boy could take it like this.
Stiles whines high from the back of his throat, swallowing and licking around him eagerly as best he can, and he takes that as he's cue to do as he pleases.
Without preamble, he starts to thrust with abandon, fucks Stiles's face roughly in search of his own release.
Below him Stiles remains pliant for him to use, having been trained well by his Alpha mate, one hand resting on Derek's waist as the other gently massages his sac until the wolf cums with a snarl, shooting his load down his throat. He hold Stiles there to his groin until the boy greedily gobbles it all up before slowly pulling out all the way.
Stiles licks at his swollen lips - feeling dirty and naughty and used - then bathes Derek with his tongue, making sure he's clean of cum before tucking him back into his underwear and pulling up his pants, dressing him back up like he was before his horny mate decided to ambush him with a quickie.
After buckling up his belt, Stiles is pulled up onto wobbly feet to rest against his mate's chest in his arms, the two nuzzling and kissing each other until he gets his legs back.
"Hm, I think I like this color on you best," says Derek as he thumbs his plush, red lower lip.
Stiles bites at him playfully, "Of course you do. You put it there."
"Gonna have to renew it often."
Stiles's eyes lower heatedly. "Guess so."
"Love you," Derek murmurs to him, nosing at his face. "Love you so much."
"I love you, too, sappy wolf," he giggles, tracing the lines of the wolf's handsome face with a fingertip, and gives his mate a dazzling smile, "More than you'll ever know."
"Doubt it," Derek hums, "Love you more."
"Oh, stop," he laughs, delighted, "You're ridiculous."
Derek shrugs, "Even so. I still love you more."
"Whatever," Stiles pecks him on the nose, "We'll just see about that later tonight."
"Hm."
"Speaking of, I guess these will have to wait until then," Stiles pouts, looking down at his heels, "Scarlet wanted to go out tonight."
"Sorry," Derek says, not sounding apologetic at all.
"Liar," Stiles accuses, but kisses him again anyway.
"I'll make it up to you later," Derek smirks and guides him to sit on the bed. The wolf gathers up the clothes he was going to wear to dinner from the end of the bed and walks to the closet to put them back in their proper places before making his own selections.
He comes back with a pair of dove gray slacks, a matching vest, and a white button up over his arm. Hanging from his fingers is a pale pink bow-tie and matching necktie, as well as a belt.
Stiles tilts his head curiously but obliges his mate as Derek goes about dressing him. First is the button-up, then comes the slacks after the wolf regrettably pulls off his heels from his feet. He pulls him up to stand so they can be done up with the belt.
Stiles flushes, that naughty feeling coming up again when he realizes he's going out in public wearing his lingerie under his clothes. He wiggles excitedly until Derek smacks his bum in fond reprimand. Then, they get to putting on his vest.
After making sure everything's tucked in place, zipped and buttoned up, Derek finally brandishes the bow-tie and does it up expertly, straightening out until its symmetrical to his satisfaction. A little hint of Stiles's collar peeks out from underneath, but Derek thinks that may be for the best, at least for tonight. It will be their little secret.
He leads Stiles to the vanity to see for himself. "Will this do?"
Stiles gapes and blinks, before taking a critical eye to his outfit. "Hm. I suppose," he says loftily after a moment, and laughs when Derek pinches his butt. "Kidding, kidding. I look stunning. Thank you, Daddy," he purrs and leans in for a kiss. Derek rumbles. Unfortunately, they have to keep it short since they really do need to head out soon.
The Alpha takes the remaining pink necktie for himself as Stiles tidies up the little smudges under his eyes from his mascara, making sure everything else still looks all right (yey for versatile make-up!) before swapping out his heels for a pair of loafers. He grabs a comb and some hair gel from the adjoining bathroom to style his hair right quick, then the two of them head to their master bedroom so Derek can grab his own shoes and his suit jacket. After that, they are off the restaurant at last.
They say their goodbyes to the pack's elders on the way out, choosing to ignore Peter's knowing smile as John and Chris wish them a good night.
Stiles couldn't wait to get theirs started, but first, food.
Dinner is fabulous. They're at their regular table in a cozy little corner near the back; the lights are dim, the atmosphere is romantic, the food's delicious...now if only Stiles could figure out exactly why their waiter has been glaring daggers at Derek all night, he'll be just peachy keen.
After being interrupted from yet another intimate moment in favor of their entrees, Stiles has had enough.
"Der," he says sweetly after their sullen waiter has stomped off, "Have you done anything in particular to make Antonio cockblock us at every turn when I wasn't looking?"
Derek immediately huffs, affronted, and lowered his eyebrows. "No. Of course not." A second later, one cocks back up as he looks at his mate, "Have you?"
"Of course not!" Stiles sputters, flailing slightly in his seat, "but if we haven't done anything, then why does he keep giving us these looks?" He imitates said look before his expression reverts back to being adorably confused.
Derek couldn't help but smile fondly at his mate, laying out a hand palm up on the table and crooking his fingers lightly. Stiles reaches out his own hand in curious response to the invitation and the wolf lovingly curls their fingers together. He brings Stiles's knuckles up to his lips for a kiss, his thumb rubbing soothing circles across them. Stiles bites his lip in a poor attempt to stifle his smile.
"Honestly, I don't know why Tony's acting the way he is, nor do I really care," says Derek, kaleidoscope eyes dazzling in the candle light, "because I'm not here for him. I'm here for you."
Now that's just unfair. Stiles breaths out a dreamy sigh, eyelashes fluttering, and just melts into the mushy-gushy pile of romantic sap that he totally is. He's certainly one lucky bitch indeed, as Crystal would say.
Derek's lips quirk up indulgently at the corners, "Let's just focus on us tonight, all right, baby?"
The smile beneath his lashes is both affectionate and coy. "Yes, Daddy."
Antonio considers himself a good, reasonable man. He enjoys his job, enjoys the food, the other employees working here, and especially their customers.
On that note, when he saw one of his favorite regulars come in on this busy night without the other, he was flummoxed for a moment before he registered the young, distinctly male individual by his side.
Feeling gobsmacked, he hides it on the inside with a strained smile as he leads Derek and his companion to their table. Maybe it's just a friendly dinner between – what is it the kids call it these days – ah! Bros. Yes that was it. Just a dinner between bros. Not the ridiculous notion he'd immediately thought of when he hadn't seen Derek's girlfriend with him on this Valentine's night.
That theory goes out the window though when he spies the two of them leaning close to each other, smiling privately to one another as Derek strokes the young man's hand with his own after ordering their food.
As far as he knows, 'bros' don't do that here in this country. And they certainly don't share kisses between them.
Tony is both in shock and enraged.
That...that two-timing cad! How could he do this to poor Miss Scarlet?!
In reminisce of their first date, they'd ordered a large plate of spaghetti to share, along with soft garlic bread sticks and crunchy Caesar salad.
Stiles is happily stuffing his face, munching away without a care in the world and making pleased sounds with every bite.
He pauses when he sees his mate stare at him in amusement from across the table. "Wha'?"
Derek laughs and shakes his head. It's a nice laugh, one Stiles always wants to hear.
"Chew with your mouth closed, dear," Derek gently chides, and Stiles sticks his tongue out childishly. Thankfully he'd swallowed his mouthful already.
Derek sighs, but smiles again anyway before taking another bite. Stiles grins cheekily, victorious, and does the same.
As they eat, a single strand of spaghetti starts to levitate from the rest. Brown eyes met hazel and the pair smirk at each other, before their faces start to draw closer and closer as the noodle gets shorter and shorter.
Just as they're inches from each other's lips, a pair of kitchen scissors appear out of nowhere and rudely cuts their connection in half, startling the two apart.
"Wha' da hell?!"
Derek scowls at the offender, "What is going on here?"
"I should-a be asking you that," Antonio retorts, visibly becoming more upset as he stands there, hands on his hips.
Stiles's confused gaze just darts from one and then the other as he finishes slurping up his end of the noodle.
"What." Oh no. Derek is growling now, and he's losing his punctuation again. Are his eyes flashing? Crap.
Stiles hurriedly wipes his mouth with a napkin, "Uh...Tony? What's the matter? Is something wrong?"
"Is-ah something wrong?" Tony starts, his Italian accent thickening the more he gets riled up, "Is-ah something wrong?! I shall tell you wassa wrong, young man. That-a heathen," he points to Derek and his offended eyebrows, "is-ah cheating on not only you, but someone who has-ah grown dear to my heart. How could you?!" He rounds on Derek.
Meanwhile, Derek's eyebrows go from offended to dawning realization. The couple share a look of comprehension across the table as Tony continues his tirade, before Stiles decides to step in.
"Uh, Tony–"
"Signorina Scarlet is a lovely young woman, you are-ah lucky to have her–"
"Tony."
"-and you go and-ah do this? Wassa-matta-wit-chu, eh?!"
"TONY!" Stiles flails his arms around dramatically and finally obtains their waiter's attention before clearing his throat and placing his hands on his lap, sitting up properly in his seat. "It's me. Scarlet," he says then, voice softer and delicate as he looks at the stocky man with big Bambi eyes.
Tony opens his mouth to start and say something, finger raised in the air, before the sound dies in his throat when it looks like he's registered what just happened. He stares at Stiles wide-eyed, before stating a faint, "Mamma mia."
After apologizing profusely to the couple, a mortified Antonio insists that their dinner is on the house and refuses any and all tips once they've finished eating dessert before going into the kitchen to hide due to his "most-ah shameful behavior unsuited for restaurant hospitality and-ah their precious camaraderie," as he says.
They leave him a generous tip anyway, tucked away under a dirty plate, and when called on it, Derek simply shrugs and says, "He's willing to defend for you, even against me. That deserves something."
Stiles grins and gives him a kiss. They leave the restaurant, hands clasped together after asking the host to tell Tony they'll see him again in two weeks, same table.
They get home, still chuckling over what happened at dinner, and hurry up to the front door, eager to finish where they left off earlier.
Those plans go out the window, though, when they go to pass the living room and see the Sheriff sitting there on the couch by himself, his head in his hands. A certain hunter and a wolf are noticeably absent.
Derek takes a sniff around and frowns. It smells of confusion, hurt, and anger. Betrayal.
"Dad?" Stiles calls out worriedly.
John looks up at them with watery eyes. In a hoarse voice, he says, "Peter's gone, and Chris has gone after him. We didn't think he'd storm off like that."
On the table in front of him lay a box with two golden wedding bands in it.