The Feeling That I'm Under

by wearing-tearing

[TFTIU #1] Stiles is a paramedic and Derek gets into a bike accident. It's kind of love at first sight.

6. Chapter 6

a/n: super important note at the end, please read!

---

"Did you get the bread?"

"Yes, dear," Stiles bats his lashes at Derek, pushing the cart.

"Cream cheese?"

"Yep."

"Taco seasoning?"

"Yes," Stiles nods. "And I still have salsa, lettuce, and tomato at home."

"So we have to get the ground beef and the cheddar cheese."

"And ice cream."

"And ice-," Derek cuts off, raising an eyebrow at Stiles. "You still have half a pint in your freezer. We don't need ice cream."

Stiles turns to him and pouts.

And promptly crashes his cart into somebody else's.

"Oh, shit. I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was- Oh. Hi, Isaac."

"Hey, Stiles," Isaac tilts his chin in at him, eyes going to Derek. "There's no food in your house."

"You mean you and Cora ate it all," Derek glares at him.

"I resent that," Cora says as she walks up behind Stiles and Derek and dumps about six bags of chips in their cart. "If we didn't eat it, it'd go to waste. It's not like you're at home a lot these days to do it yourself."

"That's because Stiles' apartment is nicer."

"Thank you?" Stiles frowns at him. "But I'm sure your place is-"

Stiles stops, thinking.

You know, about how he's never been to Derek's place.

Ever.

In over the two and a half months they've been dating.

His frown deepens.

Derek seems to notice, because he turns his attention completely to Stiles, coming to stand in front of him and blocking Cora and Isaac's view of his face.

"I've never asked you over before because Isaac and Cora are always there, and I didn't know if the lack of privacy would be a problem for you," Derek tells him, voice low so only Stiles can hear. "But if you want to come over instead of going back to your place, then I can make dinner there."

"Is that really the reason?" Stiles asks, not really liking that he has to.

"Yes," Derek breathes out. "I know you don't share your apartment with anyone, when it's almost a given that if we ever go to mine, someone will be there. I just didn't really- I didn't really think you'd want that."

"How about we make a deal on never assuming things about each other?" Stiles suggest, licking his lips. "Because you know what they say."

"I do," Derek's lips twitch. "And really, if you want to come over now, I'm sure Isaac and Cora will be happy to know I'm cooking for them."

Stiles blinks at Derek.

"You'd be okay with them having dinner with us?"

Stiles can see Derek swallowing, the minute glance to the ground as he says, "I want you to get to know them because they're an important part of my life. But so are you. It'd be okay if you all got along."

"Only okay?" Stiles teases, lying his hand flat against Derek's chest.

"Maybe even great," Derek shrugs, trying to sound casual.

Stiles chuckles and places a kiss on the corner of Derek's mouth, pushing him back to his side as he turns to Isaac and Cora, who both have their arms crossed over their chests and expectant looks on their faces.

"Are you two done discussing your relationship in the middle of the grocery store?" Cora asks, sounding bored.

"Just because of that I'm hiding red peppers in your sandwich," Derek threatens, smiling smugly when Cora looks at him like he just killed her kitten.

Stiles hides his smile by ducking his head and pretending to look at things on their cart.

"Does that mean you're making us a sandwich?" Isaac asks hopefully, and when Stiles glances up at him is to see puppy dog eyes that rival Scott's.

"Yes," Derek says, running a hand through his head and looking at Stiles, expression softening. "Stiles is coming over."

"Finally," Cora throws her arms up. "If I knew bumping into you while shopping for food would have gotten you to do that, I would have done this a lot sooner."

"Three words," Derek points a finger at her.

"Shut. Up. Cora?" Cora counts on her fingers, smiling sweetly at Derek.

Who just lets his own lips curl into a self-satisfied smile as he says, "Avocado ranch sauce."

"You wouldn't," Cora gasps.

"Try me," Derek narrows his eyes at her, voice coming low and with the hint of a growl.

Stiles starts looking around in a desperate attempt not to crowd Derek against one of the shelves and kiss him stupid.

"It's always so nice spending time with the Hales," Isaac says dreamily, catching Stiles' eye and winking at him. "It's obvious how much they love each other."

Cora and Derek turn the force of their glares at Isaac, who just stands there, looking relaxed, with a smile on his face.

Stiles just blinks at all of them and wonders what he got himself into when he started dating Derek.

He then remembers he doesn't care.

Because Derek.

And now it's not the time to get mushy.

Especially when one of Derek's sisters is near.

And they have groceries to buy.

"We're gonna have to buy more food," Stiles says loudly, fighting a flinch when everyone's gaze snaps to him. "If we're all going to have dinner together."

"We are," Derek sighs, looking back down at his list with a frown.

"And," Stiles drawls out, lips stretching into a grin. "We're gonna have to buy ice cream."

Derek gives him a long and heavy look before saying, "I'm picking the flavor."

"Okay," Stiles nods. "And you're picking mint chocolate flavored ice cream."

Derek gives him another one of those looks, lips thinning and eyes turning into slits.

Stiles smiles.

Derek sighs and says, "I'm picking mint chocolate flavored ice cream."

Stiles thinks he can hear Isaac muttering, "Whipped," under his breath.

And he expertly chooses not to say anything when Cora looks at her boyfriend and says, "Can you go grab tampons for me? I have to make sure Derek doesn't buy anything disgusting."

Isaac just nods, places a kiss on her temple, and walks away.

Who's whipped now?

"I wish mom left you in the hospital when you were born," Derek tells Cora when she grabs her cart and turns to them.

He's lying.

Stiles can tell by the way his nostril flare a little when he says it.

Cora must be able to, too, because she just gives him a hard look before saying, "Are we going to do this or not? Because I'm getting hungry."

"You're such a brat."

"And I'm so glad I don't have any siblings," Stiles remarks, both Hales looking at him and making a face. "Really. I don't think I could deal with the amount of love I'm seeing from you two."

Stiles gets the double Hale Bitch Face for his joke.

He counts it as a success, because at least now they're not bickering anymore and actually walking in the direction of the ground beef they'll need for dinner.

"We'll have to get more of everything, won't we?" Stiles asks Derek, eyeing the contents of their cart.

"Probably," Derek says, fingers scratching at his stubble as he considers. "We can make Cora and Isaac pay for half of it, though."

"Dream on, big brother," Cora calls out, smirking when Derek scowls at her.

Isaac comes back with Cora's tampons in hand, dropping it on their cart, and then clasping his hands before turning to Derek and asking, "What do you need?"

Derek opens his mouth only to snap it just and hand Isaac the grocery list, telling him about what he and Stiles already picked out and what they still need.

Isaac nods and tilts his head so they can follow, which they do without comment.

Aside from Stiles leaning in to whispers against Derek's ear, "Why does it look like Isaac's on a mission?"

Derek's expression darkens, one of his hands coming to rest against Stiles arm so he'll slow down their walking and let Cora and Isaac up front.

"Isaac's father was an asshole," Derek says bluntly, voice hard. "An abusive one. Groceries was one of Isaac's many chores at the house, and he learned early not to take too long at the store and get things done quickly. It's an habit he didn't break, one I think he never will."

Stiles swallows hard as he stares at Isaac's back, taking in the set of his shoulder and quick steps and feeling a little sick to his stomach.

"What happened to him? Isaac's dad?"

"Car crash," Derek tells him. "Isaac was sixteen. He and Cora were in the same class, and when Cora found out about what was going on with him after his father died and she told mom, mom pulled some strings so he could come live with us."

"They've been together since they were in high school?"

Derek shakes his head, "Isaac wasn't- His head wasn't really in the right place for a really long time after that. It took a lot of time and effort on our part to make him realize we wouldn't let anything bad happen to him ever again. He and Cora actually only started dating after they had a huge fight and Cora called him a self-sacrificing idiot."

"For sacrificing his happiness because he thought he didn't deserve it?" Stiles fills in.

"Yep," Derek nods, and then wrinkles his nose. "He kissed her right then and there. It was disgusting."

Stiles lets out a surprised laugh and grins up at Derek, wiggling his eyebrows as he says, "How do you feel about payback?"

"I like the way you think," Derek pitches his voice lower, leaning into Stiles' space.

Stiles is the one who closes the distance between them, giving Derek a quick kiss and nipping at his bottom lip before pulling back.

Only to find Cora staring back at them with a pinched look on her face.

"You two are gross."

"It's not my fault your brother's so hot I can't keep my hands off of him," Stiles bats his lashes at her, lips forming a smirk when she makes fake gagging sounds.

And when he looks back at Derek is to find him trying to hide an embarrassed smile, not that it does any good when all Stiles can see is the blush going from the tips of his ears to the back of his neck.

Stiles leans in and presses a kiss to the flushed skin, grinning when Derek turns to him and bumps their shoulders together.

They go back to shopping, following Isaac around on the store with both of their carts, Stiles torn between being happy about grocery shopping finally not taking a ridiculous amount of time and feeling sad about the reason why that is.

Derek makes Isaac and Cora pay for half the ingredients that are going to be used on dinner, and makes Stiles pay for the extra ice cream pint.

"But-" Stiles tries to protest, stopping and pouting when Derek just raises his eyebrows at him and doesn't say anything. "Alright, I'll pay for it."

Isaac and Cora follow them back to the parking lot, groceries in hand, stopping by a black Toyota and yelling out they'll see them at home.

Derek and Stiles continue towards the Jeep a few parking spaces ahead, Stiles with his brows furrowed as he glances back at the couple a few times.

"I thought everyone in your family drove bikes," Stiles says. "And that Laura had the Camaro."

"They do," Derek says, taking one of the bags from Stiles so he can open the Jeep and they can start loading the groceries inside. "That's- The Toyota- We used it whenever we have to go somewhere it's not practical to use the bike. It's mine. The car."

Stiles' mouth drops open, eyes widen as he stares from Derek to the car and back to Derek again.

"You drive a soccer mom car?" Stiles almost shrieks, flailing an arm.

Derek huffs, shifting the bag in his arms so he can get a better grip and avoiding Stiles' gaze as he says, "It's safe."

And Stiles is about to open his mouth to say something else equally mocking when he remembers how Derek's father died.

So he snaps it back shut and walks up to him, leaning closer so he can rubs their noses together.

"It's a very cute car," Stiles says, teasing.

"For a mom?" Derek fills in.

"Yep," Stiles nods, pecking him on the lips before smacking him in the ass and saying, "Let's put these groceries away."

Derek jumps forward when Stiles' hand connects to his ass, glaring when Stiles just smiles sweetly at him and start taking the bags from him and loading them in the car.

"I'll need directions," Stiles says once they've climbed in. "To your secret hideout."

Derek rolls his eyes at him and tells him where to drive to, turning on the radio and flicking the stations until he settles on something to listen to.

They drive around in silence, Stiles getting positively more and more excited the closer they get to where Derek must live.

He doesn't really know what is he's expecting Derek's place to look like, but what appears to be an abandoned building comes as a little bit of a surprise.

Stiles just blinks at the place a couple of times before killing the ignition and turning to Derek, who's already out of the Jeep and getting the groceries.

Stiles worries at his bottom lip as he helps him, still quiet when they get into an elevator and start going up to Derek's floor, not saying anything as Derek slides the heavy metal door open and steps inside.

Stiles blinks.

And blinks some more.

Because Derek's loft is kind of...

Empty.

Of furniture.

Not boxes.

There are a lot of boxes stacked close to the walls and piled on top of each other.

Stiles looks around, taking in the big empty space of the place where Derek lives and not really knowing what to do about it.

He can see a wooden table and a couple of chairs close to the big window further into the loft, close to the spiral staircase that hopefully leads to somewhere with stuff and things, and the-

"Is that a bed?" Stiles says loudly, mouth slack as he sees the perfectly positioned bed in the middle of the fucking room, navy sheets and cover spread and fluffy pillows and all.

No one answers him, because Derek's long gone to the kitchen and Isaac and Cora are nowhere to be seen.

Stiles follows the noise of plastic bags and stuff being moved to find Derek, seeing that at least his kitchen appears to be really well stocked.

With stuff and furniture.

"Why do you have a bed in the middle of your living room?"

"Hm?" Derek looks up absentmindedly at him, putting food away and not answering the question.

Stiles doesn't really think Derek heard him.

"Why do you have a bed in the middle of your living room?" he asks again, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking back on his heels.

"Oh," Derek blinks, and shrugs. "My room was on the top floor, but I decided to give it to Isaac and Cora when they moved in. They needed privacy, I didn't, not at the time. Figured it was best. Most of the stuff I have like furniture and things are all still up there, since this was supposed to be for only a week or two."

The last part is said mockingly, Stiles having no doubt Derek is repeating something Isaac or Cora said to him more than once.

And all his worries about Derek living in a place where it looked like he didn't plan on staying long fly out the window.

And his heart melts a little in his chest.

Because Derek gave up his room and privacy and things so Isaac and Cora could have somewhere comfortable for them to live in.

"You didn't really think I lived in a place with only a bed and a table, did you?"

"Not really?" Stiles winces, smiling sheepishly when Derek huffs at him.

"I don't," Derek tells him. "I got this place when living at the house got to be too much for me. I never planned on staying here long, but then Isaac and Cora wanted a place to stay and they kind of..."

"Stayed?" Stiles offers. "Forever?"

"Yes," Derek breathes out, shaking his head a little, expression soft. "I thought about leaving them the loft and getting a place for myself, but-"

Derek trails off, shrugging.

Also, not really looking at Stiles in the eye.

"But there really wasn't a reason to?" Stiles tries, licking his lips.

"Yeah," Derek says, clears his throat. "I didn't really need- There's was no- The privacy, it wasn't something I had to consider. Not then."

"And now?"

"Now things are different," Derek tells him, looking up straight into Stiles' eyes. "Now I have a reason to find something better than this."

Stiles presses his lips together and nods, coming up to Derek and winding his arms around his waist, pulling him close, tucking his chin over Derek's shoulder.

"If finding a new place is something you're seriously thinking about, then I can help you," Stiles says, and then adds, "Look for a place, meet with realtors, whatever you need."

"I'd like that," Derek says, hand at the back of Stiles' neck, thumb pressing against the spot behind his ear. "I'd really like that."

"I thought you were cooking dinner," Cora spares a glance at them as she walks into the kitchen. "Not making out in the middle of the kitchen."

Derek narrows his eyes at her, looking back at Stiles and-

Stiles swallows hard.

Because that's a grin on Derek's face.

A wolfish one.

Full of teeth and danger and hot as fuck.

"Hey, Cora," Derek calls out, eyes glued to Stiles' as he keeps grinning. "That wasn't making out. But this?"

And then Derek's slotting their lips together, licking past the seam of Stiles' lips and into his mouth, kissing him hot and wet and deep and dirty, and all Stiles can do is grab at Derek's hips and hold the fuck on.

He's vaguely aware of Cora swearing at them as she walks away, something about fucking Derek and I didn't come live here for this and I need to bleach my brain.

He doesn't really give a fuck.

Not when Derek keeps on kissing him, even after she's gone and they can't hear her curse anymore.

Derek pulls back with a slick sound, lips red and swollen and shiny with spit, breathing hard.

Stiles feels a little dazed.

He thinks he might also look a little dazed, if the way he has to blink a couple of times before he regains control of his own limbs and manages to unclench his fingers from where they're squeezing bruises on Derek's hips.

"Hi," Stiles rasps out, still feeling a little glassy-eyed.

"Hey," Derek breathes against his lips, hands still cupping Stiles' face.

"That was-," Stiles clears his throat. "I- We should do that more often. Not kiss in front of your sister but, you know, kiss like that. Preferably without an audience at all, actually. Yep."

Derek looks at him for a beat or two without saying anything, eyes raking over Stiles' face as if looking for something. He must find whatever it is that he's looking for, before his entire expression softens and he nods, just once, and steps away.

Stiles clears his throat, "So, do you need help with anything?"

"Not really," Derek says, opening and closing cabinets and gathering the stuff he'll need to make the sandwiches. "And the rule about not jumping me while I'm handling knives still stands."

Stiles eyes the bread knife Derek is currently waving around and nods once, lips curling up, "Wouldn't want you to cut off something important."

"Or ruin our food," Derek says dryly, grabbing a large skillet and starting on the ground beef.

Stiles hears footsteps before he sees Isaac step into the kitchen, eyes going from Derek to Stiles and back again before he shrugs and opens the fridge.

"Cora said you two tried to traumatize her," he remarks as he grabs a can of soda, closes the door, and leans against it.

"And I hope we succeeded," Stiles tells him, earning a chuckle from Derek.

Isaac looks a little taken aback by Stiles' words before he groans and thumps his head against the fridge, "This is payback for the stairs, isn't it?"

Stiles has no idea what he's talking about.

Which is why Derek answers, "And for the living room table. And the couch. And the balcony."

Stiles blinks at them, still at loss.

"It's not like anyone could sees us from there," Isaac throws one arm up, the other cradled to his chest as he holds his drink. "And the living room table is actually a pretty decent height to fu-"

"Oh my god," Stiles says loudly, at the same time Derek throws a bunched up dishcloth at Isaac's face. "I thought you were kidding when you said they had sex everywhere."

Isaac looks offended, while Derek looks like he can't believe this is his life and he wants out, now.

"It's not everywhere," Isaac protests, one hand gesturing around the kitchen. "We never had sex here."

"That's because you know I wouldn't hesitate to cut your dick off and fry it if I found out you defiled my kitchen," Derek snaps at him.

Stiles barks out a surprised laugh that quickly dies when Derek glares at him, "Sorry. It's just- Who says defiled my kitchen?"

"Your boyfriend," Isaac deadpans. "Congratulations."

Derek is now looking down at the floor, and both Stiles and Isaac notice the change for what it is.

Stiles can actually see Isaac's look of surprise when Stiles immediately walks up to Derek and throws an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close.

"Thank you, Isaac," Stiles beams at him. "I think he's great, too. In fact, I think you're jealous you don't have a boyfriend as great as mine."

Isaac's lips twitch, and so do Derek's, but neither of them make a move to acknowledge it.

"I think you're wrong," Isaac drawls out, smirking. "Because you see, I have his sis-"

"I hope you don't plan on finishing that sentence, Lahey," Cora threatens as she steps into the kitchen and hips checks him so she can get to the fridge.

"I would never," Isaac smiles softly at her, his whole face changing.

Stiles can't really help but smile at them both, at what they have.

And then he feels Derek's breath on his cheek and he turns his head just in time for Derek to brush their lips together, close-mouthed and chase.

"You really are great," Stiles says, turning so they're chest to chest, one of his arms still around Derek's neck. "Greater than great. The greatest."

Derek smiles fondly at him before kissing him one more time, stepping back so he can check on the ground beef and start on other things.

"Hey, Stiles," Isaac calls him. "Why don't you help me grab some chairs so we can sit here and annoy Derek while he cooks?"

Derek shakes his head, muttering something under his breath Stiles has no doubt are curses, while Cora eyes them both suspiciously. She actually opens her mouth to say something, but the minute shake of Isaac's head makes her change her mind.

"As long as I get the best seat on the house," Stiles plays along, following Isaac into the living room.

Isaac doesn't say anything until they're out of earshot, turning to Stiles with a somber expression and arms crossed over his chest.

"He told you."

Isaac doesn't it like an accusation, just stating a fact, the mere hint of surprise still showing in his tone.

Stiles shakes his head, "He told me some things. About-"

"His ex."

"Yes. But not everything. Not near enough everything, I think."

"Do you know what that means? Him telling you, even if it was just a little part of it?"

Stiles looks at Isaac and nods, because he does know.

He knows how fucking hard it is for Derek to let people close to him, to open up, to share his life and family and friends with someone else.

He knows how much it means, and he knows how much he means to Derek for him to want to take that chance.

"Yeah, I know."

"Good. So you'll understand when I tell you that if you hurt him, I'll come after you and I'll hurt you."

Stiles blinks, face breaking into a smile as he takes in Isaac's threat.

Stiles clasps him on the shoulder, "And I would let you."

It's Isaac's turn to smile at him, tilting his head so each of them grabs two chairs and bring them back to the kitchen.

Derek is beating cream cheese and salsa in a mixing bowl, barely looking up from what he's doing as he says, "Are you satisfied?"

"Yes," Isaac grins at him, patting Derek on the back when he walks by him. "Yes, I am. And I have to say, Derek, you picked a good one."

Derek looks almost surprised at that, eyebrows climbing up as stops what he's doing and stares at Isaac.

Only to direct his gaze to Stiles and smile that small private smile as he nods, "Yeah, I did."

Stiles blushes, teeth coming down to clamp at his bottom lip so he keeps himself from smiling, settling for leaving their chairs near the counter and coming up behind Derek to snake his arms around his middle, nuzzling at the back of Derek's neck.

He can see over Derek's shoulder Isaac whispering something at Cora, who has her eyes glued to Stiles.

He sees her eyes widen a little, expression open and incredulous before she schools it back into something serious and almost blank.

He sees her catching his eye, and nodding, and offering him a tentative smile.

He gives her one in return, squeezing Derek one more time before letting go and flopping down on his chair.

"So, how long's it gonna take for us to get some food around here?"

His tone is teasing and it serves to put them all at ease, Cora joining in right away with a comment of her own, "Yeah, big brother, we're all hungry here."

"Fucking hell," Derek curses, throwing his arms up. "If you're so desperate, then you can help."

Derek promptly drops the mixing bowl on Stiles' lap, pushing his chair until he's practically glued to the counter, a tray with about six pieces of bread cut in half and hollowed out.

"You," Derek points a finger at him, the bowl, and the breads. "Spread the mix inside the bread and set it aside."

He then directs his gaze to Isaac and Cora, who are trying to make themselves smaller.

"You two," he snaps, both of them jumping in place and pushing their chairs until they're sitting near Stiles. "After Stiles is done with that, you layer only the bottom half with lettuce and tomato."

Stiles presses his lips and widens his eyes when Isaac and Cora look at him, mouthing what the fuck when they just stare back.

They both shake their heads at him, Cora mouthing just do what he says and Isaac whispering he's crazy when he's like this.

"I don't hear the sound of you working," Derek announces, back turned to them as he drains the beef and stirs in the taco seasoning.

Stiles starts spreading cream cheese inside the bread shells, handing them off to Isaac and Cora when he's finished.

They leave the top halves of bread on the tray, which Derek scoots up and starts layering it with beef mix mixture and cheese.

When he's done he lays the tray back on the counter, Isaac closing the sandwiches as Cora starts picking things up and putting them away or in the sink, and Stiles stares around without really knowing what to do.

"What just happened?" he mumbles under his breath.

Isaac leans in closer so he can whisper, "Derek can be a little touchy when it comes to cooking."

"And people being around him in the kitchen," Cora says as she passes them, voice low.

"And having them nag at me about taking too long when they aren't doing anything to help," Derek butts in, making the three of them yelp.

Derek gives them his best unimpressed look and a twitch of his eyebrows.

"I'll grab the chips," Cora announces.

"The drinks," Isaac raises a hand.

And as soon as they do just that, they're both out of the kitchen.

Which just leaves Stiles alone with Derek, who's looking at him with eyes glinting in amusement and as if daring him to say something about how he runs his kitchen.

Stiles, of course, fucking dares.

And blurts out, "You're so sexy when you're bossing people around."

Derek does that thing where he chokes on nothing and starts blushing, Stiles pushing his chair back and getting up and throwing his arms around Derek's neck, "So sexy."

"Stiles," Derek hisses, trying to sound put out but still resting his hands on Stiles' hips.

"So, so sexy," Stiles whispers against his lips, lips forming a smirk.

"You already said that," Derek tells him, voice low.

"And I'll keep doing it until you shut me up," Stiles says, licking his lips. "Or kiss me."

Derek huffs and obliges, closing the distance between them and biting down at Stiles' lower lip, sucking it into his mouth and sighing contentedly when Stiles opens up and presses the tip of his tongue against his lips, asking for entrance.

Which Derek quickly gives.

That is until, "Stop making out and bring us our food!"

Stiles pulls back and groans, head dropping to rest against Derek's shoulder.

"See?" Derek pokes him in the ribs. "This is why I never invited you over."

And later when they're eating Taco Sandwiches while sitting on the floor and Cora kicks out a glass when Isaac sucks a hickey into her neck and Stiles gets his pants wet with soda, he can totally understand why.

---

"So," the Sheriff side-eyes him as Stiles sits down on the kitchen table and takes a big gulp from his coffee. "When are you going to bring your boyfriend for dinner and officially introduce us?"

Stiles almost chokes.

Really, it's a near thing.

The only reason he doesn't is because he still has the mug on his lips and he can spit the coffee back on it.

It's been two days since the dinner at Derek's loft, and four days until the dinner at Danny's, and Stiles really doesn't need this right now.

"Do we have to?" Stiles sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I'm taking him to dinner at Danny's on Saturday to meet everyone. I think I should wait until he gets over that before I bring the subject of Weekly Dinners up."

He's been with Derek for almost three months now, known him for almost six, so even though he's asking his father for a little more time, he knows it's time for them to meet.

Past it, actually.

His Dad appears to agree, by the way his expression closes off a little as he stares at Stiles.

"Now, son-"

"I know, I know," Stiles raises a hand to stop him, grateful when his dad lets him. "I'll bring him, definitely. I want him to meet you guys, but I just think springing that on him so soon after what's going to happen Saturday is not one of the best ideas."

The Sheriff stares at him some more before he nods, face clearing as he says, "As long as I meet him sometime this month."

"You will," Stiles nods, relieved. "You definitely will."

"Good," his dad says, lips twitching. "Because it's been a while since the last time I got to threaten one of your boyfriends or girlfriends."

Stiles rolls his eyes at him, and then stops, thinking over what his dad just said.

And over what happened with Allison when she first came to dinner with Scott.

And then over the little he knows about Derek's last relationship.

He doesn't know what kind of things might trigger Derek, but considering the way he's always so hesitant and apologetic when he does something and thinks it might have upset someone, especially Stiles, Stiles doesn't think having his dad, the Sheriff, threatening him might be a good idea.

"You have your serious face on," his dad frowns, breaking Stiles from his thoughts. "Talk to me."

"I don't-," Stiles bites down on his bottom lip. "I don't know if I can talk to you about it."

"Is something wrong?" the Sheriff asks, instantly going into worried parent mode. "Are you in some kind of trouble? Did Derek-"

"No, dad," Stiles interrupts him, shaking his head, running his fingers through his hair. "Derek didn't do anything. But it does have something to do with him. I just don't know how he'd feel if I told you about it."

His dad blinks, "You started thinking about something when I said I missed threatening people."

Stiles presses his lips together, knowing his dad is doing his thing and trying to figure out what it is without Stiles saying anything.

Sometimes having a cop for a dad pays off.

They're better at charades than one would ever think possible.

"Is this because you're afraid Derek won't stay if I do?"

Stiles opens and closes his mouth, because that has something to do with it, but not in the way his dad is thinking.

He thinks Derek might not want to stay because something his dad might say could trigger him, and that could make him want to push Stiles away.

Stiles tells his dad as much, and that's why he sees the shutter coming down on his eyes and his expression blanking.

"You said trigger him," the Sheriff says, voice flat. "That's an important choice of words you used there."

Stiles nods, because he knows it is.

He also pointedly looks at the picture of the Sheriff and Mrs. McCall on the fridge.

His dad doesn't miss it.

And Stiles doesn't miss the way his expression hardens before it softens again and he nods, just once.

Stiles knows he gets it.

He wishes he didn't, but he does.

And he knows his dad is thinking the same thing right now.

That he wished the person Stiles cared about hadn't gone through that.

"Tell me when you think it's okay to bring him over," his dad says, resting a hand on Stiles' shoulder and squeezing. "I'll ask Melissa to make her Rice Stuffed Chicken and Apple Crumb Pie."

"Thanks, Dad," Stiles offers him a smile, patting the back of his hand. "I'll talk to him."

"You know you can always come to me, right?" his dad says, giving him a significant look. "If you ever want to talk about things. Anything."

"I do," Stiles nods. "Love you, Dad."

"Love you too, son," his dad smiles at him, and then looks down at Stiles' mug. "You done with your coffee?"

"You giving me a ride to work?" Stiles blinks at him hopefully.

That way he'll have an excuse to ask Derek to pick him up.

And that way he'll be able to convince him to come upstairs to his apartment and make out.

And hopefully take things a little bit further than that, if Derek's comfortable with it.

"If you keep your hands off the police scanner," his dad gives him a pointed look.

"I make no promises," Stiles says lightly, smiling when his dad just gives him a tired sigh and a roll of his eyes.

"Let's go, then," the Sheriff says, getting up and putting his dirty dishes in the sink. "I still have to pick up Melissa from work."

"And gossip," Stiles pipes up.

"If you think we are not going to talk about our little bundles of joy and how, even after all these years, they still keep getting themselves in over their own heads, you are mistaken."

"And if you think getting rid of contractions in all of your sentences makes your argument any more legitimate, you are wrong."

"Brat," the Sheriff swats at his head.

"I don't know why I love you," Stiles huffs, ducking his head.

"It's because I give you rides to work."

"That might have something to do with it, yes."

The Sheriff snorts.

Stiles grins.

He really can't help having the best dad in the world.

---

"Derek's coming to dinner tomorrow, right?" Danny asks him as they drive back to the firehouse.

This call wasn't a bad one, thankfully.

Just another woman's water breaking in the middle of the bank.

No biggie.

"Yes, he is," Stiles nods, noticing the way Danny's entire body relaxes when Stiles confirms it.

"Good," Danny nods. "That's good."

"Nervous about bringing Ethan?"

"You have no idea," Danny tells him. "It's like I can see all the yoga jokes Jackson is going to make."

Stiles snorts.

Danny glares, and then smirks, "And all the riding and mechanic jokes he'll make about you."

"I hate you," Stiles punches him on the shoulder.

"No hitting the driver," Danny yells, laughing.

"That's a stupid rule."

"Jackson's jokes are the ones that are stupid," Danny sighs. "Seriously, I can already fucking see it, and I don't like any of it."

"Hey. Don't worry about it. I'll be right there with you, bringing my new boyfriend along so our friends can judge him and tell him embarrassing stories about me. You won't be alone in this."

"Thanks," Danny says dryly. "That helps a lot."

"You're welcome," Stiles says seriously. "And if it makes you feel better, I'll threaten everyone with bodily harm if they so much as think about telling Ethan about that time with the purple body paint and glitter."

Stiles thinks that look on Danny's eyes could be classified as murder.

He just smiles sweetly and pokes him in the cheek.

Danny tries to bite his finger off.

"Seriously, though," Stiles says, patting him on the arm. "I'm here, buddy. And I'm sure Ethan will appreciate having another person there who's just as new as this as he is."

Danny nods this time, lips curling up, "Remind me to thank Derek when I meet him."

"I will," Stiles nods. "And I can't wait to meet Ethan. I can see how important he is to you, and I'm sure we'll all like him."

"You know that doesn't really help," Danny raises an eyebrow at him.

Stiles makes a face at him, "It's better than nothing. And I'm trying here, I don't see you pep talking me out of my nerves about Derek meeting all of you."

"That's because Lydia met him when he was dressed as a bunny," Danny points out. "And I met him when he was concussed and going on and on about how you had the nicest face. Everything will be a step up from that."

Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times before blinking at Danny, "You kind of have a point."

"I know."

"And that kind of really helps me calm down."

"I know."

"Thank you, Danny."

"You're welcome, Stiles."

They park at the firehouse and climb off the ambulance, walking inside the station and finding Scott and Jackson playing one of their many card games on the kitchen table.

"Did Danny talk you down from freaking out about Derek coming over tomorrow?" Scott asks him as soon as Stiles pulls up a chair beside him and sits down.

"It's creepy how well you know me," Stiles remarks. "But yes, he did."

"Good," Scott nods. "That means I don't have to do it."

"The love, Scott," Stiles deadpans. "I'm drowning in it."

Scott just grins at him, and then his expression turns serious as he says, "But seriously, dude. You don't have anything to worry about. You're the happiest I've seen you in a really long time, and I know it has something to do with Derek. We all do. So you can stop freaking out about us being inappropriate or trying to intimidate him, because we'd never put your happiness at risk that way," and then he adds, "Unless he's a dick, then I make no promises."

Stiles snorts shaking his head and grinning at his best friend, "He's not a dick. And thanks, it means a lot. And you know I always have to worry about you being inappropriate."

"That's not true," Scott frowns.

Just as Jackson says, "So what you're saying is that he's the asshole in the relationship?"

And then yelps.

Because Danny elbows him in the ribs.

Stiles gives Scott a pointed look.

And makes a mental note to keep Erica away from Jackson at all costs.

"See what I mean?"

Scott makes a face at him, and then turns to scowl at Jackson and, judging by the way he hisses, kick him under the table.

"Don't forget your best friend is bringing someone too."

Jackson face sours at that, glancing at Danny from the corner of his eye.

Danny just sighs a long suffering sigh and throws an arm around Jackson's shoulder.

Stiles will never understand their friendship.

"Yes, Jackson," Danny tells him, and then narrows his eyes. "And you better be nice."

"I'm always nice," Jackson says, radiating smugness.

Stiles can see the grip Danny has on Jackson's shoulder tighten, so much so Jackson can't contain a wince as he shifts in his chair and tries to get away from him.

"I'm serious," Danny says. "I like him. A lot. And I don't need any of your overprotective bullshit scaring him off."

Jackson purses his lips together, expression hard.

"If he hurts you, I'll kill him."

Danny pats him in the cheek, "I wouldn't expect anything less. But if you do anything to make him uncomfortable, I'll be the one doing the killing."

"They are so weird," Scott leans in to whisper at him. "So so weird."

"I know," Stiles whispers back. "It makes us look well-adjusted."

"We are well-adjusted," Scott frowns.

"Sure," Stiles says slowly. "Sure, we are."

Before Scott can say something back, Stiles' phone buzzes in the pocket of his uniform pants.

He picks it up and sees the screen light up with a new text from Derek, Stiles getting that sweeping feeling at the bottom of his stomach as he unlocks his phone and reads it.

From: Derek

Is it okay if I spend the night after dinner?

Stiles swallows hard, biting down on his bottom lip as he types an answer.

To: Derek

of course you can

To: Derek

assuming you still want to

To: Derek

after you meet my friends

"You have your freaking out face on again," Scott comments, staring from Stiles' phone to his face and back.

This time, before Stiles can be the one to say something, his phone rings.

Like, with an actual call.

From Derek.

And Stiles feels like he should mention that even though they've been dating for quite a while, having actual conversations on the phone is not something either of them do.

And then before he can blink his chair is being tipped back and his phone is being plucked out of his hands and he's sprawled on the floor with Jackson sitting on top of him and covering his mouth with a hand.

"Stiles Stilinski's phone," Scott answers, Stiles eyes widen and then narrowing into slits as he glares at his best friend with as much hate as he can muster. "Scott McCall speaking."

"Oh hey, Derek," Scott smirks at Stiles, who starts squirming and trying to buck Jackson from on top of him. "Stiles told me you're coming over to Danny's tomorrow."

Stiles hates his friends.

A lot.

This is a direct violation to the bro code and Stiles won't hesitate to let Scott know about it.

And then make him pay.

"Stiles a little busy right now," Scott says, scratching his chin. "But I can tell you that we're super excited to meet you, man."

A little busy his soon-to-be dead ass.

"He should talk a lot about us," Scott nods along to whatever Derek is saying. "We're his best friends. His family."

Stiles tries to push Jackson off of him again, only to get Jackson settle more of his weight on him and pin him to the ground.

Danny is just watching them, serene smile on his face as Scott keeps talking to Derek on the phone.

"Yeah? That's really cool, dude, that you have people like that," Scott answers to whatever Derek says. "Maybe we can all hang out sometime. I think it'd be cool for us to meet. You know. Worlds colliding and shit."

"Yeah, man," Scott says, risking a glance at Stiles shooting daggers at him and then at Danny when he extends a hand to him, palm up. "Yeah, he is, but Danny wants to talk to you first."

Scott passes the phone to Danny, turning to Stiles with a grin attached to his face that instantly slips as Stiles manages to free a hand from under Jackson's legs and point a finger at him.

"Derek? Hi, this is Danny."

Stiles' attention snaps to Danny, thoughts of murdering Scott being pushed to the back of his head for a while.

"The bike accident, yeah," Danny laughs. "I was the one driving the ambulance when you were in. I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm actually talking to you more to reassure that you're not going to be completely on the spotlight tomorrow than to intimidate you like Scott was trying to do," Danny says, and Stiles goes completely limp on the floor, eyes staring up at the ceiling. "I don't know if Stiles told you, but I'm also bringing my boyfriend to dinner, so you won't be the only one new there."

"Yeah, Ethan," and Danny's face softens as he says his name. "So there's no reason for you to be like Stiles and freak out because of it."

"Yes, just let me go get him."

Danny tilts his head at Jackson, who starts getting up.

Only to immediately get kicked in the chin when Stiles manages to move his legs freely.

He doesn't feel sorry when Jackson topples sideways and crashes to the ground.

Dick.

And don't think he doesn't notice Scott's eyes widening and the hurry in which he gets out of his chair and gets the fuck out of the kitchen.

And it's not like he doesn't know Stiles knows he's going to be hiding in the Chief's office until either Stiles or him get called out.

And it's not like it's the easiest thing in the world to get Chief Finstock out of said office just by telling him Greenberg is doing something he's not supposed to.

Danny flashes Stiles his dimples as Stiles gets up and walks up to him, lips thin and expression hard.

I'm going to kill you, Stiles mouths to him as he picks up the phone.

Danny winks at him.

Stiles turns on his back and gets as far away from his friends as he can.

And by that he means climbing on the back of his ambulance and closing the door.

"Hi," Stiles says quietly, sitting down on the stretcher.

"Did that just happen?"

"If by that you mean my friends kidnapping my phone and sitting on me so I couldn't get it back and they could talk to you, then yes."

"Sitting on you?"

"Remind me to poison Jackson's food for that one," Stiles grumbles. "And chopping Scott into tiny little pieces for starting it."

Derek huffs out something that Stiles thinks it's a laugh before saying, "At least you're not freaking out anymore."

"I wasn't freaking out before," Stiles lies, shifting a little in place.

"Sure you weren't," Derek says lightly. "Your friends seem nice."

Stiles snorts, "Too bad I'm going to kill them before you have a chance to meet them."

"Stiles," Derek drawls out his name. "It's okay. It was good talking to Scott, actually. I can see why he's so important to you."

"Yeah, well, I'm regretting giving him the title of my best friend."

"He reminds me of Laura," Derek remarks, and then adds, "Only, you know, nicer."

"Great," Stiles groans. "Let's make a pact to never ever let them meet."

Derek stays in silence for a beat or two before saying, "Scott mentioned that."

"Mentioned what?"

"Our friends meeting."

Stiles blinks.

And then groans again, "Can we agree on you getting to know my friends first before we start thinking about them meeting and joining forces to make our lives a living hell?"

"Yes," Derek says, and Stiles can hear the smile in his voice. "We can. And I'd like you to get to know everyone better before that happens, too."

"I- Yeah?" Stiles asks hopefully, voice lowering.

"Yes."

"That's-," Stiles clears his throat. "I'd like that."

"Good," Derek tells him. "Because Erica's birthday is almost here and I know she'll want you to come."

Stiles rolls his eyes, "Of course she will. I doubt she'd ever let the chance to find out more about our personal life pass her by."

"I blame Cora for her lack of boundaries," Derek sighs. "She talks about hers and Isaac's relationship to anyone who'll listen."

"And Erica listens."

"She says she likes to gather as much information as possible about people."

"And who do you blame that one on?"

Derek doesn't say anything for a few seconds, and then sighs again, "Uncle Peter. He has a thing for knowing everything about everyone."

"Yeah?" Stiles asks, curious. "That must be..."

He trails off, making a face even though Derek can't see him.

"Invasive? Annoying?" Derek offers, and then clears his throat. "He wasn't always like that."

Stiles blinks, stomach tightening as he waits for Derek to say something else, to explain.

"It was after-," Derek starts, stops, tries again. "It was after her that he decided he should always know what people were thinking, planning, doing. He didn't want to be caught off guard again, didn't want any of us to get hurt."

"He sounds-," Stiles cuts off abruptly.

"Nice is not the right word, is it?" Derek feels in for him. "His heart is in the right place, and he never tried to get in anyone's business without-"

"Without consent?" Stiles asks hopefully.

"Without making sure they had no idea what he was doing."

Stiles can almost see Derek's wince at that.

"This doesn't bode well for me, does it?"

Stiles is not really sure he wants to meet Derek's Uncle anymore.

Or ever, really.

"You're the Sheriff's kid," Derek remarks. "That'll count for something with him."

"At least he'll know I'm honest?"

And Stiles doesn't like how that comes out as a question, but is relieved when Derek just laughs at him.

And teases, "Like anyone would need to be observant to figure that out. You're a horrible liar."

"Hey!" Stiles yelps, and then stops. "I don't know why I said that. It's not like I should be offended about not being able to lie to save my fucking life."

"You really shouldn't," Derek tells him. "And that's one of the things I like most about you."

Figures.

Derek liking the fact that Stiles can't, for the life of him, ever betray him like that.

Like she did.

It's no wonder, really.

"Well," Stiles says slowly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Derek chuckles. "So I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"Yes."

"And I can stay the night?"

"You can always stay the night," Stiles blurts out, and when Derek doesn't answer he swallows hard and says, "I mean it. You don't have to ask all the time."

"I- Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Derek breathes out. "I'll talk to you later, Bunny."

"Later, baby."

Stiles climbs out of the ambulance feeling lighter than he's been all day.

And promptly marches to Chief Finstock's office.

Only to see Scott sitting on one of the chairs, eyes wide when Stiles opens the door and closes it behind him.

Stiles tackles him.

Scott screams.

Chief Finstock burst into the room, opens his mouth, takes one look at them, snaps his mouth shut, and says, "I don't want to know, do I?"

"No," they both say in unison.

"Alright," he gives them a sharp nod. "Carry on then."

And Stiles does just that, fingers at Scott's side as he grin wickedly down at his friend.

"You wouldn't," Scott says, voice high.

Stiles leans in close until their noses are almost touching, "I so would."

Later, Danny tells him they could hear the sounds of Scott's laughter as Stiles was tickling him right from the entry of the firehouse.

---

Stiles is trying to find something decent to wear tonight at Danny's when he hears a knock on the door, his heart clenching in his chest in anticipation as he runs to open it.

He knows it's Derek, knows he's here earlier than usual so they can have some time alone before they have to head out to dinner, so they can make out and freak out and talk and possibly make out so more.

So there's already a smile stretching across his face as he gets to the door and opens it and-

"What are you wearing?"

Stiles freezes in place.

And gapes at Derek.

And lets his eyes rake over his boyfriend's body and clothes.

And gapes some more.

And then snaps his mouth shut and lick his lips and sticks a hand in his pocket to not-so-discreetly adjust himself.

"I'm going to have dinner with your friends," Derek scowls at him, the tip of his ears starting to flush. "And meet them for the first time."

Stiles presses his lips together and tries not to coo at how fucking adorable and awkward Derek is being right now.

Because he says meet them for first time like it explains why he's wearing slacks, a button down, and a tie.

And looking about as excited as someone who's marching to their own certain death as he clutches his overnight bag in one hand.

"Aren't you going to let me in?"

Stiles still doesn't say anything, stepping aside so Derek can go past him and into the apartment.

He closes the door as Derek walks no further than a couple of steps and pauses, dropping his bag on the floor, turning so he and Stiles are face to face, Stiles leaning with his back against the door.

"You're wearing a tie," Stiles croaks out, mentally adding and looking unbelievably fucking hot.

Derek scowls harder, staring down at himself. "Am I not supposed to?"

"Well, I mean," Stiles gestures a hand in front of himself. "You can wear whatever you want. And if what you want is to wear a tie and slacks and a button down, then that's okay. It's more than okay, actually. You look really-," Stiles clears his throat. "You look really really good. But it's not necessary."

"But it's my first time meeting them," Derek frowns at him. "I don't want to..."

Derek trails off, face doing that pinched thing when he wants to say something but doesn't really know how to put it into words.

Stiles, as always, doesn't hesitate to do it for him.

"Embarrass me? Make a bad first impression?"

And he really can't help the way his lips twitch up at that, at Derek being the one freaking out this time, after being so calm while Stiles was a bundle of nerves.

And when Derek nods, Stiles can't help but huff out a laugh and grin at him.

"Baby," Stiles says, walking up to Derek until their chest to chest and taking his face in his hands. "The only thing that'll happen if you show up dressed like this is have Lydia and Allison bitch at the rest of us for never looking quite as nice," Derek gives him a bitch face, but Stiles continues. "You don't have to try to impress them. They'll already think it's impressive enough that you manage to put up with me for long periods of time without cracking and trying to strangle me to death."

"I like spending time with you," Derek mumbles, mouth hard.

Stiles shakes his head and doesn't stop himself from leaning in and closing the distance between them, catching Derek's lips in a sweet kiss.

"And they're going to see that," Stiles reassures him when he pulls back. "All they want for me is someone that makes me happy and keeps up with me. And since you do, you don't have to worry about that. And as for embarrassing me, we all know I'm the one prone to doing embarrassing things in public, not you. And Scott used to walk around town with a fake bunny tail stuck to his ass, so it's not like they can say anything, anyway."

Derek makes his curious eyebrows at the mention of Scott walking around town with a tail, but Stiles just shakes his head at him again and pulls at the collar of Derek's shirt.

"But again, if you want to go dressed like this, you can," Stiles tells him. "Or if you want to change into the clothes you have in your bag, you can too. Or if you want me to lend you a shirt, that's an option, too."

An option Stiles liked a little bit too much now that it came out of his mouth.

Because-

"I'm not going to fit into one of your shirts," Derek rolls his eyes at him, the discomfort from before slowly fading from his expression.

"You will, they'll just be-," Stiles licks his lips, eyes raking over the muscles of Derek's chest. "Really tight," and then down at his slacks. "Like your pants right now."

"Stiles," Derek gives him a long and heavy look, lips pressed thin in the way Stiles knows Derek is hiding a smile.

Stiles huffs, "Really, though. As much as I like you with a tie and pants that don't hide anything, by the way," Stiles proves his point by tugging at the end of the tie and bringing Derek closer to him, "I want you to be comfortable tonight. And I don't think these clothes will do it."

Derek looks down at himself before glancing back up at Stiles again.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I know I'm going with my hobo jeans and the first clean shirt I can find, so you don't need to dress up."

"Hobo jeans?" Derek blinks at him.

Stiles bites down at his bottom lip, ignoring the way his cheeks start to flush, "The one I wore on our first date? I call them my hobo jeans."

"The one with paint splatter on one of the back pockets?"

Stiles nods.

"And the rip on the knee?"

Stiles nods again.

"And the rip under your right back pocket that shows off your boxer briefs depending of the way you walk?"

Stiles trades nodding for gaping at Derek and flushing deeper, his voice coming out a little choked when he asks, "You noticed that?"

Derek licks his lips, "Kind of hard not to."

"But you never said anything."

Derek shifts in place a little, bringing a hand up so he can wrap his fingers around Stiles' wrist is a loose hold.

"I didn't want to-," Derek starts, throat bobbing as he swallows. "I didn't want you to think-"

Stiles waits for him, one hand still wrapped around Derek's tie and the other coming to rest against the side of his neck, Stiles' thumb pressing just under Derek's jaw.

"I didn't want you to assume I was expecting something if I mentioned it," Derek tells him, shrugging one shoulder. "Especially if it was something I wasn't ready to give you yet."

"Oh."

"But I noticed," Derek says, staring at him straight in the eye, lips curling up in a smirk. "Did I notice."

"I-," Stiles licks his lips, clears his throat. "Yeah, well. That's what I'll be wearing tonight. So you can get rid of this if you wanna."

"I wanna," Derek sighs, body relaxing. "I really wanna."

Stiles laughs at that, shaking his head as he bend down to grab Derek's bag, taking one of his hands in his own as he says, "C'mon, big guy," and leads him to his room.

Stiles dumps Derek's bag on top of his bed, sitting down beside it as he opens the zipper and starts rummaging through it looking for jeans and a shirt.

That is until his fingers close around something.

Two somethings, actually.

That are most definitely not clothes.

Because Stiles is staring down at them and all he can see are lube and condoms.

Lube and condoms.

That Derek brought.

In his bag.

When he's going to be spending the night.

And suddenly the reason why Stiles doesn't really want to go to have dinner with his friends has nothing to do with the possibility of them being awful to Derek, but because he wants to stay exactly where he is, in his bed, with Derek, preferably naked, and making use of these two things in his hand.

He swallows hard and risks a glance at Derek, who currently has his back turned to him and is methodically folding his slacks so they don't get any wrinkles.

Stiles scrunches up his nose and tries not to find him adorable.

Meh.

Who's he kidding?

"Did you grab me my clothes yet?" Derek asks, startling Stiles.

Who promptly drops the lube and condoms back on the bag and grabs the pair of jeans Derek brought and the light green v-neck he can see poking out from underneath it.

And pushes all the thoughts of Derek apparently wanting to have sex with him tonight to the back of his mind.

"Yep," Stiles says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out a little high. "Yeah, I got them."

Derek turns around then, placing his pants neatly on top of Stiles' bed, fingers under the knot of his tie as he loosens it and pulls it over his head, turning around so he can hanging it over Stiles' computer chair.

When he faces Stiles again is to unbutton his shirt, and Stiles has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from laughing.

Because Derek's frowning down at it in concentration as he pops the buttons.

It kind of makes him look angry.

Like it personally offended him having to wear a button down from the ride from his loft to Stiles' apartment.

And then Derek is only in his dark gray boxer briefs and a pair of socks, muscles rippling as he starts folding the shirt before he sets it on top of his slacks on Stiles' bed.

"Here," Stiles says, licking his lips as he hands Derek his jeans and accepts a peck on the lips.

"Thanks," Derek smiles softly at him, pulling on his pants.

Stiles tries not to feel disappointed for not being able to oggle Derek's ass anymore, giving him the shirt and bracing himself on his hands as Derek finishes getting dressed.

"Your turn," Derek says as he sits down beside Stiles', poking him in the thigh with a finger.

Stiles blinks at him.

"To get undressed in front of you?" Stiles asks, tone teasing. "Was that a game we were playing? You strip and then I strip? Because if so I would have put on some music and made you move your hips a little more."

Derek gives him a pointed look, the tips of his ears going red as he tries to sound stern, "Go get dressed or we'll be late."

"There is no being late in our dinners," Stiles waves a hand in front of him as he gets up. "There's only no food left because between us no one waits for anyone before they order. They're like a pack of hungry wolves. If you're not there by the time the food arrives, then you might just eat something at home before coming."

"Lovely," Derek deadpans. "Your friends just keep looking more and more like my friends."

"And we thought we didn't need more people in our lives, didn't we?" Stiles smiles sweetly at him, getting rid of his shirt and dropping it on the floor.

"Glad I was proven wrong," Derek says quietly, eyes glued to Stiles.

"Me too," Stiles whispers as he bends down to cup Derek's face between his hands and brush their lips together.

"No more kisses-," Derek says, getting cut off when Stiles kisses again, "Until you-," and again, "Get dressed," and one more time.

"Alright, alright," Stiles laughs when Derek pushes him away with hands on his bare belly. "I'll get dressed."

Stiles turns his back to Derek, taking his time to unbuckle his belt and unbutton and unzip his pants, hooking his fingers under the waistband and pushing his pants slowly down past his hips and the swell on his ass.

He's glad Derek can't see him, because as soon as he hears Derek's sharp intake of breath, Stiles' smile is nothing but pure smug.

He doesn't turn back, walking to his closet and grabbing his old jeans and putting them on, wiggling his ass a little as he zips it and buttons it. And then picking out one of his older shirts that's a little too tight in the chest and shoulders and everywhere, really but make him look good.

When he finally looks back at Derek is to find him darting his eyes between Stiles' ass and his chest, cheeks flushed and lips parted as he takes in the view.

Stiles is still smug.

And hoping this means Derek now has more than one reason to make use of the lube and condoms he brought with him today.

It's Derek who breaks the silence, clearing his throat and tilting his chin up at Stiles, "You look good."

"You too," Stiles says as he flops down beside Derek on the bed. "And I have to say, even though I loved the fancy clothes, I kind of like you more in just a shirt and a pair of jeans."

"Me too," Derek sighs, and then wrinkles his nose. "I don't really like clothes that restrict the way I move."

Stiles looks significantly down at Derek's tights jeans.

"They're stretchy," Derek explains, eyes glinting in amusement.

"And very nice," Stiles nods as he traces his fingers over Derek's tigh.

"Sometimes I think you only want me for my body," Derek says, joking.

Or trying to, but Stiles has become pretty well-versed in Derek Hale to know when there's some truth lying underneath what he's saying.

Stiles wonder if this is another thing about his previous relationship, if his ex-girlfriend valued him for his good looks and what kind of things his name could give her.

He doesn't call Derek on it, though, deciding to play along but also make his point that he likes Derek for so much more than that.

"And your cooking skills," Stiles starts, pressing kisses over Derek's jaw and cheek and shoulder and neck every time he lists something off. "Your dry wit. Your loyalty to your family and friends. Your impeccable taste in toothbrushes. Your willingness to let me cuddle the shit out of you whenever I want. Your always warm and soft skin. Your ridiculous expressive eyebrows. Your ability to remember the little things I said to you a long time ago. Your bike. And your laugh lines."

Derek doesn't say anything for a few seconds, turning his head so their noses bump together.

"My laugh lines?"

"Yes," Stiles says as he traces them with his fingers. "If you have laugh lines it means you're smiling and laughing a lot. And if you're smiling and laughing a lot then it means you're happy. And if you're happy, hopefully it means I have something to do with it. So he's, your laugh lines."

Derek shakes his head at him, cupping Stiles' jaw with a hand as he stares at him, eyes filled with so much intensity they make Stiles' breath hitch.

"You have everything to do with it."

Stiles blinks furiously and swallows, trying not to show how much that statement affected him.

And failing when he says, "I'm glad to be that for you," and his voice cracks.

Derek doesn't say anything else, just pulls him into a sweet and slow kiss that leaves Stiles feeling like there's something pressing down against his chest and making it hard for him to breathe.

"C'mon," Derek says when he pulls back. "We have a dinner to attend."

Stiles snorts and looks at Derek, lips tugging up and a look of pure determination on his face.

Like Stiles friends are going to fucking like him or else.

Stiles approves.

It also calms him down in a way, knowing how much Derek wants this to happen.

Only that look lasts halfway to Danny's, Derek starting to squirm in his seat with nerves the closer and closer they get to the apartment.

Stiles doesn't try to say anything to make him calm down, just reaches over and takes one of Derek's hand in his, squeezing it tight.

Derek doesn't move the rest of the way, only to lift their joined hands up to his mouth so he can brush his lips against Stiles' knuckles as they drive.

They park outside Danny's apartment, Stiles killing the Jeep and unbuckling his seat belt and turning in his seat so he can stare fully at Derek.

Who's actually looking a little pale, if Stiles is being honest.

Stiles thinks about saying something.

Or more specifically, about telling him there's no way his friends won't like him, because Stiles likes him.

He doesn't, though, deciding to take a page out of Derek's book and doing something instead.

And by that he means kissing the fuck out of him.

Grabbing him by the back of his neck and turning his face so Stiles can slot their lips together and getting a hand on his hair and nipping at his bottom lip before tracing his tongue over it and licking his way into his mouth until neither of them can breathe anymore.

"Okay?" Stiles asks when he pulls back, voice coming out a little rough.

Derek blinks at him, looking a little dazed, before he lets out a deep breath and his entire body relaxes.

Who knew Stiles' kisses could do that to someone.

"Okay," Derek says quietly, bumping their noses together.

They walk up to Danny's hand in hand, Stiles' thumb rubbing circles over the palm of Derek's hand as he grabs his keys and looks for the one Danny gave it to him.

"Do you all have keys to each other's apartments?" Derek asks as he peers over Stiles' shoulder.

"Yep," Stiles nods. "Danny's place is closer to the hospital, so sometimes if Lydia or Allison are too tired to drive home, they crash here. While Scott's place is closer to the firehouse, so whenever Danny, Jackson, and I are too exhausted to do anything other than pass the fuck out somewhere, we go to Scotty's."

Derek makes a sound at the back of his throat as Stiles puts the key into the lock and opens the door, yelling "Stiles and Derek!" as they step inside.

Derek gives him his confused eyebrows at having Stiles announce their presence like this, so Stiles explains, "We also make a habit of yelling our names so people know we're coming and aren't naked."

"You mean you make a habit of yelling out your name so people know you arrived," Derek raises an eyebrow at him.

"You know me so well," Stiles bats his lashes at him, squeezing Derek's hand as the step into the living room and all conversation ceases.

Scott and Allison are sitting on the couch, Scott's arm thrown over Allison's shoulder and Allison's hand on his knee. Lydia and Jackson are by their side, Lydia with her back resting against Jackson's chest, knees pressing against Allison's thigh, and Jackson with an arm around Lydia's waist. Danny and someone Stiles assumes is Ethan are sharing one of Danny's armchairs, Danny with his legs thrown over Ethan's lap so they can fit.

They all just sit there and stare at Stiles and Derek.

Until Scott's eyes widen in surprise and he says, "Derek?"

"I- What- You two-,"Stiles looks from Derek to Scott and back to Derek again, stunned. "You know him?"

He doesn't really know who he's asking the question, he just wants an answer as to why his best friend knows his boyfriend.

"Yeah," Scott says at the same time Derek tells him, "Yes."

"This is interesting," Lydia wonders out loud, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she stares at them.

"Really interesting," Jackson nods, squeezing her hip.

"He's Derek," Scott says, shaking his head a little. "Derek Hale. From Hale's Garage."

"I know that," Stiles huffs. "What I don't know is why you never told me you- he's your mechanic!"

Stiles looks from Derek to Scott and back again, mouth agape, as he tries to take the new information in.

And wondering if he should be pissed at Scott for not telling him he had a hot mechanic and setting him up with Stiles.

To know he could have met Derek before and they could be doing this for a while is making him feels things.

Mostly like he was robbed of something.

And by something, Stiles means time with Derek.

"He's not my mechanic," Scott shakes his head. "Isaac is. He's just around sometimes."

"Just around-"

"I stay at the office a lot," Derek interrupts him. "Handling things for Peter. So it's not everytime he comes by that I'm at the shop. And speaking of which," Derek turns to Scott. "Your bike working okay?"

Scott looks taken aback for a moment.

And so does Stiles, if he's being honest.

He knows how shy and awkward Derek can be around people, so the fact that he's actually talking to his friends makes Stiles' stomach flip.

And his heart melt a little bit.

"Yeah," Scott says slowly, the edges of a smile forming on his lips. "Isaac did a great job, taking care of it for me. But I figure I'm gonna have to buy a new one soon, though. I've had this one since I was in high school."

Everyone startles at that, because they've been trying to convince Scott to buy a newer model forever without any success.

Not even Allison managed to talk him into retiring from the old dirty bike, so the fact that it just takes Derek one conversation for Scott to be totally on board with this is a feat.

"I can help," Derek offers, looking from Scott to Stiles, as if noticing everyone's wide stares. "With that. The new bike. Isaac too, considering he knows more about how Scott uses his bike than I do."

"Yeah?" and now Scott is actually beaming at Derek. "You wouldn't mind?"

By how eager he sounds, Stiles knows he won't be needing to make any efforts for his best friend and his boyfriend to get along.

Awesome.

And thank fuck, because now he won't have to worry about getting called to pick Scott up from an accident when his bike inevitably crashes.

"No," Derek shakes his head. "It's important to have a safe means of transportation, and old or bikes are definitely not it. No matter how much you love them."

"Derek is totally right," Allison jumps right in, nodding vigorously. "You should take him up on his offer. And we can agree to meet on a day where I'm not working or on a later shift so I can come with."

"Yeah?" and Scott looks really fucking excited now.

"Yeah," Allison grins at him, and then turns to Derek. "Is that okay with you?"

Derek looks at them and then back at Stiles, who nods, "Yeah. That'd be great. I'll talk to Isaac."

"Thanks, man," Scott smiles. "I appreciate it."

"No problem."

"And now it kind of makes sense, though," Scott says as he squints at Derek.

Derek blinks at him, "What does?"

"Why I thought Hot Biker Guy seemed familiar whenever Stiles described him."

If Scott thinks the tickling attack yesterday was bad, he has no idea what's coming for him.

No idea.

"Hot Biker Guy?" Derek asks before Stiles can open his mouth.

Stiles knows all the blood on his body must be pooling in his cheeks, but he still turns his head to look at Derek.

Only to see this soft and warm and open expression on his face as he blinks at Stiles.

"Really? Hot Biker Guy?" Derek asks again, and as Stiles looks closer he can see the corner of Derek's lips twitching as he's trying to fight a smile.

"Why do you always focus on the embarrassing stuff?" Stiles hisses, face getting redder by the minute.

Derek gives him a smile, then.

A real one, with teeth showing and eye crinkles and dimples.

Stiles is vaguely aware of Danny and Ethan's sharp intake of breath and Lydia and Allison's mutters "wow" and Scott and Jackson's annoyed huffs.

He's too busy staring at Derek.

And at how fucking gorgeous he looks when he smiles.

"I really want to kiss you right now," Stiles whispers, blinking at Derek.

Derek's entire face flushes under Stiles' gaze, and he starts shifting on his feet, eyes going from Stiles back to the living room full of his friends.

His smile is still in place, though, even as it transforms into something small and soft and fond.

"Maybe you should introduce me to your friends, first," Derek suggests, shrugging minutely.

"Right," Stiles drawls out, turning to stare back at everyone. "Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Derek," he says, gesturing to the Derek. "Derek, this is everyone."

Everyone is rolling their eyes at him at the moment, and then either raising a hand or smiling as they state their names.

And who they're in a relationship with.

Or at least, Allison, Scott, Jackson, and Lydia do that, because when it gets to Danny's turn everyone goes silent again, looking at him expectantly.

"Everyone," Danny starts, grinning when he looks from Ethan to his friends. "This is Ethan, my boyfriend. Ethan, you've just met everyone."

Everyone waves and smiles again, Stiles directing Derek to the empty loveseat and pushing him down to sit on it, flopping by his side and instantly moving so he's as close to Derek as he can get.

Derek just huffs at him and lets Stiles grab one of his arms and wrap around his shoulder, and Stiles can tell that whatever tension Derek still had in his body dies down as Stiles squirms to find a comfortable position.

Especially when Derek starts tracing patterns over Stiles' arm and places a kiss on his temple, oblivious to everyone around them.

"I have to say," Lydia comments, eyes trained on Ethan and Derek. "After hearing so much about you from both Danny and Stiles, it's nice to finally meet you. You officially, Derek."

"I think it's safe to say Derek and I heard a lot about all of you, too," Ethan smiles at Derek, who gives him a nod.

And kind of surprises Stiles by saying, "And I didn't get a chance to tell you what a great job you did with the Egg Run," Derek tells Lydia, who arches her eyebrows minutely at him. "I used to run with my Dad when I was younger, so it's nice to see people still care about it."

Lydia's lips twitch up briefly before she nods at him and says, "Thank you. It's good to be appreciated."

That last bit is directed to Jackson, if judging by the way Lydia's eyes snap at him.

"What?" Jackson grumbles. "I appreciate you."

"You weren't even there."

"Oh, here we go," Allison sighs, slumping further into Scott, who just pats the hand she has on his knee lightly.

Danny rolls his eyes, getting up from the couch and grabbing both Lydia and Jackson's hands and leading them to his kitchen.

That leaves Ethan alone, who Stiles notices starts looking a little nervous now that he doesn't have Danny's presence there by his side.

"You don't have to worry," Stiles shrugs one shoulder, looking from Ethan to Derek. "Lydia and Jackson fighting when we have dinner is kind of a common thing."

"Like the food," Scott nods. "It's always there."

"They don't always fight," Allison protests, only to get looks from both Scott and Stiles.

"But aren't they together?" Ethan asks, frowning at them.

Allison, Scott, and Stiles share a look before Stiles explains, "We don't really know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Derek pokes him in the arm, and when Stiles looks up at him it's so see him frowning.

"We don't talk about it," Scott says, getting nods from Allison and Stiles.

"They were an on-and-off thing in high school," Stiles tells them. "By college we just didn't care to to keep track of their relationship anymore."

"When they fight about something it usually means they're together," Allison offers. "But it's still better for everyone if we just-"

"Don't talk about it," both Derek and Ethan say in unison.

"And that's why you two will fit right in," Danny says as he steps out of the kitchen and turns on the volume a little bit louder, Lydia and Jackson nowhere in sight.

"Still fighting?" Scott asks as Danny sits down again, arm thrown over Ethan's shoulder as he pulls him close.

"Yep," Danny nods. "Jackson brought up the '09 Medical Convention."

Stiles and Scott both groan, Allison rolling her eyes and saying, "You don't want to know," when Ethan and Derek just frown in confusion at them.

"So, Allison," Danny wiggles his eyebrows at her. "What are we eating tonight?"

"Dude, you want to order before Lydia comes back?" Stiles asks him, wide-eyed.

"I thought you didn't wait for anyone," Derek comments, looking down at him.

Stiles grins, "We don't. I was just going to say Danny is a genius."

"Lydia is not going to be happy about this," Allison tells them, pressing her lips together.

"Do you really care?" Scott asks her. "Because if you do, we can totally wait."

Allison smiles sweetly at him, kissing him on the cheek before turning to Danny and making grabby hands and saying, "Give me the flyers."

Both Stiles and Scott throw their arms up in celebration, Ethan and Derek looking once again at everyone with confusion on their faces.

"Lydia is picky," Allison supplies.

"Oh," both Ethan and Derek nod in understanding.

"Do any of you have any food allergies?" Allison asks them as Danny hands her the flyers.

"No," Derek shakes his head, just as Ethan says, "No, but I don't really like sea food."

"God, me neither," Allison says, relieved. "I always have to ask for a hot plate whenever Jackson insists on picking that for his turn."

"I don't think he'll be doing that anymore," Danny says, eyeing Scott.

"Never again, man," Scott shakes his head. "Never again."

Allison goes back to looking down at her options, Scott looking over her shoulder, Danny and Ethan smiling and talking to each other, the faint voices of Lydia and Jackson coming from the kitchen.

Stiles turns to Derek, who's staring at everyone with a small smile playing at his lips.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Derek says quietly as he looks down at him, rubbing their noses together. "I can see why you love them."

Stiles makes a thoughtful sound at the back of his throat, brushing their lips together quickly before asking, "Does this mean you like them?"

"I've liked what I've seen so far."

"Diplomatic answer," Stiles nods against Derek's chest. "Very good. If Lydia was here, she'd be proud."

Derek snorts, pressing a smile against Stiles' hair.

"How about some Italian food?" Allison asks, waving a flyer around.

"I'm in," Stiles says, looking at Derek who only nods in response.

Ethan and Danny both give Allison a thumb-up, while Scott just smiles and says, "Whatever you want."

"I'll make the call, then," Allison flashes her dimples at them, fishing Scott's phone from his pocket. "You two take a look at what you want and let me know," she tells Derek and Ethan, who nod.

"Don't you need to go ask Lydia and Jackson for what they want?" Ethan asks after they finish rattling Allison they're order.

"They probably already know," Derek tells Ethan, raising an eyebrow at Scott and Stiles when they scoff at him.

"Yep," Danny nods. "Gonna fit right in."

Lydia and Jackson come back from the kitchen just as Allison finishes placing their order, holding each other's hands.

Allison lets them know what they'll be eating, and even though Jackson glares for not being consulted about it, Lydia just gracefully accepts the news with a nod of her head.

Conversation flows after that, Stiles' friends making space to ask questions about both Derek and Ethan's lives and jobs and getting to know them, sharing stories about him and Danny, Derek making a friend out of Lydia when he mentions he might be looking for a place to live - something Stiles is surprised to hear Derek mention, but he guesses tonight is all about that, being surprised - and accepts her on her offer to help, and Ethan grabbing Allison's interest when he mentions the couples yoga class he teaches.

Things only get better when the food arrives, everyone laughing and making jokes and Stiles's friends eyeing him and Derek whenever Derek steals something from Stiles' plate.

He's pleasantly surprised to see everyone getting along so well, to see Derek interacting and talking to his friends and making an effort, just because he knows how important these people are to him.

And the best part is that he's just himself.

Like after Stiles told him he didn't have to try and impress them by dressing up, he relaxed and let Stiles' friends judge him for who he is.

And Stiles can tell, by the way he keeps getting looks of approval from everyone whenever Derek matches him on his shit or makes a dry joke or gets that look on his face like Stiles is the only one there or leans in to peck him on the lips that they think he made a good choice.

Which is why everything goes to fucking hell when they're leaving.

Lydia and Jackson leave first, with Jackson giving Derek and Stiles a sharp nod that Stiles will take as a compliment, and Lydia stopping to say a few words.

"It was nice seeing you again, Derek," Lydia smiles sweetly at him. "It's good to know Stiles is in good hands."

"You, too," Derek gives her a small smile in return before looking at Stiles. "And he is."

"Good," Lydia pats him on the shoulder. "But if you hurt him, remember I have access to the records of the drivers registered in the race."

Derek blinks at her while Stiles gapes and hisses, "Lydia."

"What?" she asks him, all mock innocence. "I just want him to know I know where to find him. And not to forget that I know how to work a scalp in my favor."

But just as Stiles opens his mouth he hears the low sound of Derek's chuckle, his gaze snapping to his boyfriend to find him smiling down at Lydia.

"If it comes to that," Derek tells her, his serious tone still there despite his smile. "I won't stop you."

It's Lydia's turn to smile at him, this time more genuine, before she blows them kisses and leaves.

"What was that?" Stiles shakes his head, not protesting when Derek pulls him flushed to his side with an arm over his shoulder as they make their way to the door.

"That was expected," Derek says, raising an eyebrow at Stiles. "And it was a good idea the rest of your friends waited to get me alone to tell me there'd be a world of pain if I ever hurt you. They must have known you were going to act like that."

"They did what?"

"Yes, thank you for proving my point."

"How are you okay with this?"

"Because I know my family did and will do the same. And I told you," Derek says, voice low. "I wouldn't expect anything less from people who love you. If coming from my family has taught me one thing, it is that you protect those you love. And that's what they're doing."

Stiles doesn't really know what to say to that, doesn't really know if he even wants to think about what that means when it comes to Derek's friends and family and what happened to them.

"You know what? Nevermind," Stiles waves a hand in front of him. "What's important is that tonight was fun and everyone seemed to like you and you seemed to like them and there were no death by food allergies or wayward silverware or Jackson's horrible jokes, so I'm counting it as a win. For everyone."

Derek shakes his head at him, eyes bright and fond as places a kiss on Stiles' forehead and says, "I did like them. And I like knowing you have friends like that. Even if I can see Ethan and Danny making on out the kitchen right now."

Stiles turns his head to see that yes, they both have a pretty good view of Danny crowding Ethan against the fridge and kissing him.

Stiles snorts.

Derek blushes.

And Scott comes out of the bathroom with a sleepy Allison leaned against him, her head on his shoulder.

"She okay?" Stiles asks, frowning at them.

"Yeah," Scott sighs. "She's just more tired than usual. I should probably get her home."

"Okay," Stiles says, giving Scott a one-armed hug, and Allison a kiss on the cheek. "Bye, Scotty and Ally."

"See ya, man," Scott tilts his chin at him and then turns to Derek to smile and shake his hand. "It was nice meeting you, man."

"You too," Derek says, and looks down at Allison's almost sleeping form. "Both of you."

Scott looks down at Allison, his smile turning into something soft and in love as he brings a hand up to brush her hair away from her face, "C'mon, Dr. Argent. Time to say goodbye to our friends."

Stiles feels Derek's entire body tense as Allison opens her mouth and mumbles, "Bye", both of them walking past Stiles and Derek to the door so Scott can take her home.

Or at least trying to, before Derek drops his arm from Stiles' shoulder and positions himself in front of it.

"What did you say?"

Stiles doesn't like the way Derek's voice has gone flat, his expression blank.

Something's wrong.

Really really really wrong.

"What did he say her last name was?" Derek asks, this time to Allison, eyes glued to her face.

"Argent," Scott frowns, looking from Stiles to Derek, obviously confused. "Her last name is Argent."

Stiles doesn't even have time to open his mouth and call Derek's name before he's opening the door and walking out of the apartment.

---

a/n: TL;DR: The Feeling That I'm Under is going to have about a million chapters and I have no one to blame but myself. And that might mean more time between updates.

First and foremost, I want to thank everyone who's been reading and leaving kudos and comments and being a sweet sweet angel and making it so much fun for me to write this. 3

And it's because of that I want to let you guys know about how the writing process is going and what's going to happen with the story and not leave you wondering about everything while I sort things out.

UNDER is already the longest thing I've ever written in my life, and I still have a long way to go. As of right now I have 8 chapters outlined, around 10k words of stuff that didn't fit into the story or I changed while re-writing it, and about 10 to 15 more things I want Derek and Stiles to go through before I'm done.

I think I'll be able to explore those 10 and 15 more things in another 7 chapters, which will mean this story will have about 15 chapters total. But that's subjected to change at any time as I keep writing. Hopefully I'll keep to that plan and manage to get everything in 15 chapters, but if I don't, I'll let you all know.

One of the reasons I've managed to update every week is because I'm on break from uni, but my classes will restart at the beginning of August. That means I won't have as much time to write, and updates might slow down a bit.

If it takes me a while to get a chapter up, it's because I'm taking my time to make it good and not just get something out that might be rough and bad because it's been over a week or two without updates.

I value good fanfiction writing, and I don't want to disappoint you by updating with a chapter I don't think it's good.

That said, no matter how much time passes between updates, I won't be abandoning the story. Some of you might think I'm being super dramatic but I'm having a lot of anxiety about this, so I figured I should just say it, even if it's only for my own peace of mind ~

So I'm asking you guys to be patient with me while I write and edit and plot the rest of this out. And if you have any questions about anything or just want to talk to me you can send me a message on my tumblr (if the link doesn't work here, my username is dylansmouth).

Thank you for reading. 3