Baking My Way Into Your Heart – Unexpected Part II
"So by the time it's all done, it'll kinda be like it's a whole new house," Stiles commentated.
"Yeah, pretty much."
The two were sitting in the driveway of the Hale house, watching as workers moved in and out of the home. To be honest, Derek was stalling. As soon as he stepped out of the car, he would have to go to his room and collect his things before taking a taxi to the hotel where he would be staying. But beyond that, stepping out of the car meant no more time with Stiles.
Derek might've looked cool, calm, and collected on the outside, but on the inside he had been bubbling with excitement. He had just spent nearly two hours trekking through the woods, holding Stiles' hand in his. He had even slowed the pace, using Stiles' scraped knee as an excuse. And all the while, Stiles never complained. Holding his hand felt like the most natural thing in the world. And replaying the image of Stiles' soft blush in his mind, he had to deem the entire day a success. And because of that, he was in no hurry to end it just yet.
"Jesus, is that a bathtub or a Jacuzzi?"
"Both."
"So wait, if all the plumbing is out for the day, how are you gonna go to the bathroom? You guys rent a port-a-potty or something?"
Derek sighed, unable to prolong their departure any more. "I'll be staying at a hotel." He glanced at his watch. "I mean, I will be when I get a room." Then Derek thought of another excuse to spend more time with him. "Hey, you think you can drop me off? If you have time, I mean."
"Wait, a hotel?"
"Well yeah. Obviously I can't stay here. Plumbing won't be back on until late afternoon tomorrow. So, hotel it is."
Stiles brightened as an idea hit him. "You know what? I'll do you one better. You can stay with me tonight. That way you don't have to pay for a room for just one night."
Derek snapped his head to the side, staring at Stiles with a look of disbelief. 'Wait… did I hear right? I couldn't have heard that right…' he blinked. "What?"
Stiles shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, you let me stay at your place when my bathroom was getting fixed, now you can stay at my place now that your bathroom's getting fixed." He chuckled at the irony.
This was way better then getting a fifteen-minute ride. Derek had to mentally restrain himself from bursting out in delight cause no. That's just not something he does. Instead, Derek put on a bored expression and shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."
Stiles frowned, studying Derek who had to refrain from squirming under the intense stare. "Is that the same kind of 'whatever' you said when I asked you about the lemon tarts that first time? Cause it sounded like the same thing."
"It's… whatever."
Stiles snorted. "All right, then, stubborn. I'll take you to your hotel."
Derek almost pouted. Almost. Apparently Stiles still wasn't proficient in Derek code. 'Whatever' in this context very clearly meant 'Yes, I want to stay with you! Forever, if that's a viable option!' He exhaled deeply, eliciting a little growl.
Stiles smirked. "You should probably get your stuff if I'm dropping you off."
'Wait? Did that mean staying with him is no longer an option?' Derek glanced over at Stiles who merely raised his eyebrows in question. Did Derek just ruin his good mood by being stubborn?
Stiles cocked his head to the side. "You did still want me to take you, right? Or was that a 'whatever' as well?"
With another growl, Derek popped the door of the Jeep open, stalking back into the house to gather his things. He grumbled the whole way.
"Idiot… I should've just said 'yes'! Why is that so hard? If he asks, 'Hey Derek, wanna stay at my place?' say 'yes.' This shouldn't even be an issue!" He tossed his toothbrush into his bag, scooping it up off the floor before stomping all the way down the stairs. He was still berating himself as he climbed back into the car.
"So? Where to, Miss Daisy?"
Derek frowned again. 'I guess it really is off the table…' He slumped in his seat, eyes fixed out the window. "The Regent. It's off First."
"I know that place," Stiles said, starting the car. "My dad and I stayed there once while our house was getting fumigated. Just a head's up, don't take anything from the mini-bar unless you don't mind spending five-dollars for something that typically costs less than a dollar. My dad was not pleased with that one."
The drive to the hotel was very much one-sided. Stiles made commentary along the way while Derek just stewed in his own frustration and melancholy. The day had been going so well and had the prospect of being much better. And then he had to go and ruin it. 'Idiot…' he internally growled for the thousandth time. So annoyed at himself was he that he didn't even pay attention to where they were going. He didn't even pay attention when Stiles had stopped the Jeep, proclaiming their arrival. He had just hopped out of the car, only pausing when he looked up and saw a garage, not the entrance of a hotel. Derek did a double-take, head zipping around as he finally took note of where Stiles had driven them. He heard the boy laughing as he made his way up the front steps to unlock the front door.
Stiles turned around and fixed Derek with a smug smirk. "Coming?"
Derek was glued to the spot as his mind tried to catch up. 'He was pulling my leg all along…' He narrowed his eyes, a scowl forming on his face. 'Okay. Two can play at that…' He looked the house up and down before looking back at the boy still smiling on the porch. "This isn't the hotel," he said, a touch of disdain in his tone as he slowly brought his arms up to cross them over his chest.
Stiles' mouth dropped open as he gaped at the older boy. "Liar!" He accused, mirroring Derek's own stance. "Just admit it, Derek. You want to stay at my house. I know you do."
"And why would I want that?"
"Obviously, it's cause I'm awesome and you want to hang out with me, like, all the time," he rolled his eyes as if this were the most apparent fact in the world. He hobbled down the steps, walked over to the passenger-side door that Derek had yet to close, and grabbed Derek's bag. "So quit dilly-dallying and let's go." He waved him over and walked back to the front door.
With Stiles' back to him, Derek just grinned, finally closing the door and following the boy into the house. Maybe Stiles was more proficient in Derek code than he let on.
Stiles gave Derek a quick tour of the first floor before deciding he needed a snack. Derek took a seat at the breakfast bar, watching the younger boy dart around the kitchen. "You sure your dad won't mind me staying?"
"Yeah, it's no problem," Stiles said, head inside a cabinet. "Scott used to crash here all the time."
Derek tried to convince himself that he was over being jealous about Scott and Stiles' long-time friendship. He tried, but he failed. "But that's Scott. Your dad knows Scott."
Stiles sighed. "Look, if it'll make you feel any better, I'll call him, all right?" He grabbed his phone, tapped through a few menus before setting it down on the counter on speaker so he could continue rifling through the cabinets. After a few rings, the Sheriff picked up.
"Hey kiddo, what's up?"
"Hey Dad. Enjoying yourself?"
"Eh-the game's all right. And these hot dogs are ridiculously expensive. Luckily, I'm not paying so..."
"I'm going to ignore the fact that you're eating hot dogs and not carrot sticks and I want you to keep that in mind when I tell you what's come up."
"Jesus Stiles, you've been home one day. What did you do?"
"Daaad," Stiles whined, chuckling nervously as he glanced at Derek who merely cocked an eyebrow. "I didn't do anything. Think better of your only son, please."
The Sheriff snorted. "Have you met my only son? Did he tell you about the time he thought it was a good idea to take my cruiser for a joyride?"
Stiles sputtered. "Hey, I explained that to you. I only did that on a dare. A dare from Jackson, of all people. Besides," he harrumphed. "I brought it back in one piece."
"Stiles, the fender was hanging off on one side!"
"It was technically still attached. I rest my case."
Derek was a mix of incredulity and amusement.
The Sheriff sighed. "Did you need something?"
"Yes," Stiles perked, getting back on track. "I just wanted you to know that my friend needed a place to crash tonight so I offered up the couch. You're okay with that, right?"
"Yeah, sure. No problem."
Stiles gave Derek a smirk as if to say 'I told you so.'
"Actually, that's good," the Sheriff continued. "You see, after the game, the guys and I were going to play some poker over at Ron's house-"
"I don't like where this is going. Why don't I like where this is going-"
"-So it's good that you'll have company over night while I'm out."
"What do you mean while you're out? What time are you coming home?"
"Oh, about eight…"
"That's not so b-"
"In the morning."
"Dad, what?"
"It's poker, Stiles. There's bound to be drinking involved."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you need to partake in it. Whatever happened to not giving in to peer pressure?"
"I am an injured man. I need every ounce of relaxation I need. And I know you're not suggesting I drive home after a few beers."
"Then have someone else drive you home."
"I doubt any of them will be in any better a shape than I."
"But Dad, I wanted you to meet Derek-"
"Wait, it's Derek? Derek Hale?"
The man in question sat up a little bit straighter, unconsciously leaning in towards the phone to listen better.
"Yeah, Dad."
"The same Derek Hale from school that you've been talking to me about for weeks now?"
Stiles glanced at Derek, cheeks flushing. "Eh-heh. You don't have to put it like that, Dad."
"If he's the one you're having over, you better be sleeping in different rooms."
"Oh my God, what are you even implying?"
"Now," the Sheriff continued, ignoring his son. "I will be back tomorrow morning as planned, just in time for breakfast. So if he's still around, I can meet your new boyfriend then-"
"Dad! He's not my boyfriend."
The Sheriff scoffed. "Well, from the way you talk about him-"
"And that's enough of speaker-time with Dad," Stiles said loudly, grabbing his phone off the counter and running out the back door to finish the call outside.
Derek was stifling a grin. Apparently he wasn't the only one who kept getting the 'boyfriend' shtick. And it's not like he actually minded if others thought Stiles was his. It would discourage them from looking at the boy with any sort of interest. And if it was the Sheriff who already thought he was Stiles' boyfriend, well that couldn't be a bad thing, could it?
Stiles came back in, grinning sheepishly. "Bottom line, you can stay," he said, rubbing the back of his head.
"Just how much do you talk about me, Stiles?" Derek teased.
Stiles tossed him a withering look. "My dad is injured and therefore is doped up on some pretty intense meds. Anything he says can't be used against him in a court of law." He hopped back into the kitchen, throwing a bag of popcorn into the microwave. "Soooo, since you're staying, what do you want for dinner tonight?"
Derek blinked. "That's right… I have dinner with my sister." He had almost forgot.
"Oh," Stiles.
It might have just been wishful thinking on his part, but to Derek, Stiles sounded a little disappointed. "Her fiancé is flying back in from a business trip later so I'm being forced to finally meet him."
"Whoa, buddy. Don't sound so excited, there," Stiles said, hands up in jest.
Derek just rolled his eyes. "She's already marrying the guy. I don't see why she's making such a big deal about us meeting one another."
Stiles gaped at him. "Okay, seriously. Did you grow up in a cave or something?" At the glare he was receiving, he pressed on. "I mean, obviously it matters what you think. That's your sister. And this is the guy she wants to spend the rest of her life with. And if her brother and her boyfriend can't get along, then that's definitely a problem. I doubt she'd want to go the rest of her life having awkward family get-togethers if you and her hubby can't stand each other. Hell, even I get that and I'm an only child!"
Derek was still wearing a blank expression, looking very unconvinced.
"Look," Stiles said, placing his hands flat on the countertop and leaning in on them. "Think of it the other way. What if you were the one getting married? Wouldn't you want your sister and your girlfriend to get along?" He shrugged. After a beat, he added, "Or boyfriend. You know, you never clarified the matter."
Derek snorted derisively, but it did make him think. He wasn't very pleased with his sister when she outright said she didn't like Stiles just because she thought the boy had Derek wrapped around his fingers. Stiles was important to Derek and so was Laura. It would kill him if they couldn't get along and that's just what he felt as Stiles' friend. If Derek were actually marrying Stiles… Well, Derek didn't want to think about that just yet, lest he overwhelm himself with feelings. Baby steps. But yeah. All in all, he understood what Stiles meant. Which is why he said what he did next.
"Come with me."
Stiles blinked in surprise. "What?"
"Come with me to dinner tonight."
Stiles snorted. "Yeah right. Suffer through the awkward meet and greet yourself. Besides," he said, reaching over the counter to pat Derek on the shoulder. "It'll do you some good to meet new people. You can practice being nice."
Derek frowned. "I can be nice. I'm nice to you."
"Pffffft," Stiles snickered. "That's only cause I wooed you with my goodies," he winked with a laugh.
Derek sighed, before reaching over the counter to take one of Stiles' hands between his own. Apparently, he was still feeling a bit courageous from earlier in the woods. He pulled the hand toward him, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the countertop, bringing his hands mere inches from his lips. "Please, Stiles. Come with me. If you're there, I think I'll feel comfortable enough to get through this dinner without scaring this guy off like my sister thinks I will."
The flush returned to Stiles' cheeks as eyes tracked over his hand between Derek's.
"Stiles," Derek urged, forcing the boy's eyes to snap up to his own. "Please."
He gulped, before nodding slightly.
Derek smiled, keeping the boy's hand secure between his own, squeezing it gently. But then a familiar scent called his attention. "Is something burning?"
"Huh?" he blinked in his stupor. Then Stiles shook his head, eyebrows jumping up. "Oh crap, the popcorn!" He snatched his hand back before leaping over to the microwave. He yanked open the door as a cloud of smoke billowed into the room.
Derek moved quickly, throwing open the back door to let the kitchen air out, as Stiles tossed the bag into the sink, drowning it in water. He coughed as a cloud of steam wafted through the air as he waved it out of his face.
Derek had to laugh. "Who burns popcorn? Isn't there a pre-set on your microwave specifically for popcorn?"
"Oh- you- just stop it, okay? Just stop," Stiles stammered. "I must've pushed the wrong button is all. It happens."
Stiles let the smoke clear out of the kitchen before trying again. This time, he made sure to push the right button so that he and Derek had something to munch on while they caught some movie on TV.
Later, Stiles showed Derek the second floor, giving him the tour of his old bedroom and showing him where the bathroom was. Derek tried not to react when he saw Sourwolf sitting on the bed as Stiles quickly snatched him up and took him to his dad's room. Apparently, the wolf protected him while on the road as well.
"You can stay in my room tonight, and I'll take my dad's bed since he won't be using it," Stiles had explained when he returned. Derek just nodded in understanding before perusing through all of the boy's knickknacks.
The both of them then took their time washing up before heading out. Stiles drove to the restaurant where Derek would finally be meeting Laura's fiancé. And despite Derek's instructions to slow down and take his time driving there, Stiles drove at speed limit, reminding Derek that he couldn't put off the inevitable. And also that there were impeding laws in California.
As they approached, Derek spotted his sister near the entrance, her arms wrapped around the neck of her fiancé as she laughed at something he must've said. She looked purely enamored. And then, when she finally spotted Derek approaching, her soft smile turned into a grin as she waved at him, but the grin almost instantly fell once her eyes tracked to the boy just beyond his shoulder. She eyed Stiles suspiciously before narrowing eyes at her brother. She looked less than pleased by the unexpected guest.
"Ah, Derek. Good to finally meet you," Tom greeted as they neared, holding his hand out.
Derek just glanced at the outstretched hand, prepared to ignore it. But then he felt the icy glare from his sister as well as a nudge from Stiles, and he was holding out his hand to shake it courteously. The nudge didn't go unnoticed, Derek noted, as he looked to Laura who in turn was looking at Stiles, cautiously.
"Derek," Laura said, tone sterile. "Who's your friend?"
"Stiles," the boy introduced himself, holding his hand out. "Stiles Stilinski."
"Stilinski?" Tom piqued, shaking his hand. "As in Sheriff Stilinski?"
"That would be my dad."
"Who names their kid Stiles?" Laura wondered aloud, earning herself a glare from Derek. Why was he expected to be nice to Tom when she couldn't be nice to Stiles?
But Stiles was unfazed. He just laughed. "You'd be saying the same if you knew my real name. Possibly worse." He shrugged.
Laura just cocked an eyebrow at that.
"Whoa," Stiles stared.
"What?" she frowned.
"That thing with the eyebrow. It makes you look just like Derek," he mused. Stiles looked over to Derek, face lighting up with glee. "See?"
Not even realizing it, Derek had made the same face. He trained it back into a blank stare, but Tom was already laughing.
"They do look very much alike. Could pass as twins, almost."
Both Hales rolled their eyes at this, only causing the other two to laugh even more.
"Shall we?" Tom asked, looping his arm through Laura's and nodding towards the door.
Derek and Stiles followed behind the happy couple. Stiles leaned over, voice low. "See? He doesn't seem like such a bad guy. Just relax, be cool, and pretend like you're talking to me when he asks you a question. And for God's sake man, if the guy sticks his hand out, just give it a damn shake. You're so rude sometimes, Derek," Stiles teased, bumping him on the shoulder.
Derek looked at his friend sideways, but didn't miss the brief glance Laura took over her shoulder before she looked to him. Derek cocked his eyebrow at his sister in question, but she merely mirrored the act before turning her gaze forward once more. Maybe they were more alike than they had noticed before.
While waiting to be seated, Laura quickly eyed Stiles. "So, Stiles. How do you know my baby brother?" she asked, though her tone made her sound uninterested.
Stiles answered anyway. "Well, we go to the same school. He's a customer at the coffee shop I work at-"
"Oh, so you're a barista," she said, flatly, as if baristas were beneath her.
Derek glared at his sister. She was being so incredibly rude. Was this how Derek acted as well?
"Yeah, well, it helps pay the rent and for the books I need for classes," Stiles shrugged.
"He's studying to be a forensic scientist," Derek added, wanting Laura to be impressed. Forensics was hardly an easy thing to get into. But she wasn't having it.
"Oh so, what? You'll be looking at cum stains under black lights?"
Derek was mortified. If looks could kill, Laura would be six feet under, then resurrected just so he could murder her again by the cold, hard glare her brother was giving her.
And yet, Stiles remained unfazed. "Cum stains? I can't actually be certain about this, but I'm pretty sure that not every criminal has time to jack off before leaving the scene of a crime. I mean, not unless he gets off on that sort of thing… or unless he's a teenage boy getting his first hand job." At this, Tom had to laugh. Stiles snickered, pointing to the man. "See? He gets it."
Derek was shaking his head, wondering how his life had brought him here. And despite herself, Laura looked like she was having a hard time fighting off a smirk. Derek counted that as a win for Stiles.
"So what about you, Derek," Tom asked. "Tell me a little about yourself. I only know what Laura's told me."
Derek scoffed. "Well in that case, just take the opposite of everything she's said and that's me."
"You wanna know about Derek Hale? Derek Hale is one cocky miscreant. Just your average, stuck-up, arrogant, rich kid."
Derek could recognize that voice anywhere. A smile tugged at his lips as he turned around. He was just about to greet the man standing behind him when Stiles stormed right past Derek, moving to place himself between Derek and the unforeseen guest.
"Excuse me? Do you even know Derek?" Stiles barked. "Cause if you did, you'd know he's nothing like that. Sure he can be a little grumpy and it wouldn't hurt if he smiled more often, but he's actually a really good guy-"
"Stiles-" Derek tried, but the boy continued.
"-and who are you, anyway? Who do you think you are, talking about Derek like that when obviously you don't know a thing about him?"
"Stiles," Derek tried again, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder to calm him down, his own eyes wide in surprise. Stiles just glanced at Derek over his shoulders, eyes questioning him. "Stiles, this is my Uncle Peter. He was joking."
He was silent for a moment as he let the words sink in. "Ohhhh," the boy finally said, slinking back some. "Your uncle… was joking…" he chuckled nervously, taking a step backward, trying to hide behind Derek.
Once his eyebrows came down from the shock of the verbal onslaught, a grin spread across Peter's face. "Fascinating," he said slowly, taking Stiles' wrist in his hand, pulling him back out from behind Derek. "I like you. You're spunky. You're sitting next to me tonight."
"U-um," Stiles sputtered.
It was at that moment that the hostess led them to their table. And as he said, Peter, with his hand still around Stiles' wrist, took a seat at the head of the table, and directed the boy into the seat on his left. And before Derek could take the seat next to his friend, Laura swooped in, leaving him to sit on the other side of his uncle, across from the Stiles and next to Tom. Derek narrowed his eyes at his sister, trying to warn her to be nice to the person she was sitting next to. And again, all he got in return was a mirrored expression as she silently warned him to be nice to Tom.
"Sorry about that," Stiles said to Peter, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't know you were related."
"How very bold of you," Peter smiled. "Do you come to all of your friends' defense when someone speaks ill of them?"
Stiles blinked. "Of course." He looked a bit gob smacked, as if even suggesting there could be another answer to that was just outrageous.
Peter just grinned, delighting in Stiles' response.
Derek noticed the way Peter looked Stiles up and down. He didn't like it. He leaned forward, clearing his throat to get his uncle's attention. "Peter, what are you doing here? I thought you were still in New York."
"I was," he replied, drolly. "But your sister called me this morning and said that you were having a little reunion and I didn't want to miss out. So, I took the jet."
"You have a private jet?" Stiles asked in awe.
'No, Stiles,' Derek frowned inwardly. 'I'm taking the attention off of you. Don't go snatching it back up.'
"That I do," Peter bragged. "Would you like to fly in it some time?"
"Where are our menus?" Derek said, loudly.
Peter and Laura just looked to him, amused.
This was going to be a long dinner.
/\/\/\
"You're the Sheriff's son?" Peter mused. "Ah, I've had my fair share of run-ins with him. I don't think he's ever pleased to hear when I'm in town."
"That's because the last time you were here, you trashed a hotel room and got three different noise complaints, and when the Sheriff finally arrived, you answered the door naked," Laura recounted.
Peter shrugged nonchalantly, feeling no shame whatsoever. "It's not my fault he interrupted me in the middle of something."
Laura snorted. "Yeah. In the middle of those two barely legal women."
Again, Peter just shrugged. "Yeah, I know. Only two. I was having an off night."
/\/\/\
"Ah, so you bake as well?" Peter asked, intrigued by the boy on his left. "Are you any good at it?"
"Well, Derek seems to like it," Stiles said, nodding in his direction.
"He does, does he?" Peter smirked. "Well you know what that says, don't you?" His smile grew mischievous at the blank shake of the boy's head. "It means you must be good with your hands… and even better with your tongue."
Derek was choking on his water at that.
/\/\/\
"You were chased by a boar?" Laura repeated, highly amused.
"Hey," Derek snapped. "That thing had massive tusks. He could have mutilated me."
"You wanna know what else is massive? My-"
"Damn it, Peter!" Derek growled.
"What? I was going to say 'my condo back in New York.' What were you thinking of, Derek?"
/\/\/\
So somewhere through the night, probably after they received their food and in between Peter's inappropriate comments, Derek managed to learn a bit about Tom. He was apparently some hot-shot corporate lawyer that Laura had met when his client was doing business with the Hale Group. He had struck up a conversation with her and promptly asked her out, to which she, in similar promptness, declined.
"She was tough," Tom winced at the memory. "All business, no pleasure. I asked her out probably ten more times, on separate occasions throughout the few months your family's company and my client's company worked together on this project."
"So what'd you do to finally get her to go out with you?" Stiles asked, curious.
"It's funny, actually," Tom recalled. "On our last day working together, I had ordered this cherry tart and asked my assistant to bring it in for me after the meeting so I could eat while glossing over the last bit of paperwork. And just as she was stepping out, he stepped in. And next thing I know, she was basically stealing it from me." He chuckled.
"I did not steal it. We were sharing it," Laura amended.
"I noticed she really like the cherries so I offered to show her a place that had the greatest cherries jubilee in town – just as business associates – and she finally accepted."
Stiles laughed. "So wait, cherries are to Laura as lemons are to Derek? What is it with this family and their fruits?"
"Wanna know what my favorite fruit is?" Peter asked, slyly.
"No, Peter," Derek huffed. Seriously. Was he going to have to kill his uncle? At the way he was laughing at his expense, Derek felt very inclined to do just that.
/\/\/\
Throughout the night, conversations carried on. Derek only had to shut his uncle up six more times before dessert. All the while, Tom did his best to get to know his fiancé's brother. He was curious about what Derek was studying and with how things were going and 'Oh? A toy room? What kind of toys?' And each time Tom asked him a question, Derek felt a little tense, like maybe this guy was trying to shake him down or something. Or maybe he was judging him. But every time he glanced at Stiles, who continually gave him encouraging smiles throughout the night, Derek reminded himself that he was being ridiculous and that the guy on his right was only asking out of genuine curiosity because that's what normal people did. They made an effort to get to know other normal people.
All in all, Derek decided that Tom wasn't a terrible guy. In fact, he was probably a really good guy. Derek could tell that he genuinely cared for his sister, and so he held off on threatening to rip his throat out should he hurt her in any way. He supposed that could wait until after the guy was done with his cheesecake.
Furthermore, as the night progressed, Laura seemed to loosen up. Her face was less of a scowl and more of a smile. For that, Derek was relieved. A grumpy Laura was never a good thing. She had gone from questioning Stiles to merely asking him questions. By the end of their meal, she was laughing with him as he retold the story of how Derek tackled Jackson, and he was laughing with her as she told him about the time "Derek glued black felt on his cheeks-"
"Shut up, Laura!"
"-spiked his hair up into two little points-"
"Laura. Shut. Up!"
"-and ran around with plastic butter knives between his fingers to pretend he was Wolverine."
Derek wanted to just slide down his seat until he was safe under the table where older sisters who ruin their younger brothers' lives don't exist.
Frowning at his sister, Derek turned to Tom. "Laura was so freaked out by the movie 'The Ring' that she unplugged all the phones in our house just so no one would call. And not only that, she moved every TV so that the screen was on the floor just so that girl wouldn't crawl out of it."
Tom just laughed, but Stiles chimed in.
"Who didn't do that after watching that movie? That little girl was creepy! I pointed mine out the window so that if she did climb through, she'd fall off the roof."
"See! I'm not the only one freaked out by her! Up top!"
Derek rolled his eyes as the two shared a high-five.
"Oh and you know what my jerk wad brother did? Knowing that I was petrified of this girl, he went and made a separate e-mail address just so he could e-mail me 'Seven Days.' I literally slammed my laptop shut and threw it across the room before I realized it was my skeevy little brother."
"Why would you do that, Derek?" Stiles asked, looking genuinely appalled. "That's just cruel."
"So, to get him back, I mixed peroxide in his shampoo."
"No!" Stiles sat up, both alarmed and excited.
"Laura, shut up!"
"He was screaming!"
"Hey! That stuff burns!" Derek defended.
"I took pictures," Laura smirked.
Stiles immediately brightened. "Oh, now you know I'm gonna have to see these."
Derek sighed in exasperation. He almost wished Laura went back to being mistrustful of Stiles, that way every embarrassing story of his from his past – and every embarrassing picture for that matter – would stay there, safe and sound.
/\/\/\
"No, no, no. Clearly it was real! He saw their faces! He couldn't have been stuck in a dream. Come on, Tom. You agree with me, right?"
Tom took a gulp of his wine before nodding in agreement. "I'm with Stiles on this one. The top was clearly wobbling at the end. He was home."
"No way! The whole movie was about dreams within dreams within dreams! And that little reunion at the end? Sorry to break it to you, but that was a dream too," Laura said, defending her belief. "I know Derek agrees with me."
All three turned to look at the man in question. He nodded as well. "She's right. Just because it wobbled, doesn't mean it was going to stop, especially in a dream. You just wanted to believe that it was going to topple because you wanted to believe that it was real."
"Damn it, Derek," Stiles frowned. "I never should have made you watch Inception if that's how you think it ends. He got his kids back. He was home." He turned to Peter. "Come on, Peter. You're the tiebreaker here. Tell me you're not as cynical as the doom and gloom twins here."
"I'm afraid to say I haven't watched that movie yet," Peter shrugged.
"Whaaat? It's like one of the best movies out there! The entire second level was just intense!"
Peter smirked slyly. "Well, if it's so good, how about you and I-"
"Compare notes on it through an appropriately worded e-mail?" Derek cut in.
The older man scoffed. "I was going to say 'watch it together whilst we snuggle in my hotel room.' Jesus, Derek. When did you become such a prude?"
Derek was about two seconds away from turning his steak knife into a murder weapon. But Stiles was laughing, enjoying himself. If it weren't for that, if there were any indication that Peter made Stiles uncomfortable in any way, well, quite frankly, Derek didn't doubt that Peter could still do his day job with only one functional thumb. 'Yeah,' Derek thought to himself. 'Two might be a little extreme… Peter would be fine with just one thumb.' He scowled at his uncle, who was still smiling, oblivious to the violent thoughts in his nephew's mind.
/\/\/\
Somehow, Derek managed to survive the dinner. The only thing that he had to leave behind was his pride and dignity. Peter and Laura were the worst. The two of them together made Derek wish he didn't invite Stiles at all. But then seeing how his sister went from glowering at the boy to laughing carefree with him, he figured it might've been worth it. And while he couldn't say that his own relationship with Tom had turned out quite as buddy-buddy, he did find a new respect for this man that his sister had welcomed into her life. And he supposed that was the point of the dinner after everything was said and done.
As they were exiting the restaurant, Laura came up to Derek, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "All right, I concede. He's not a harlot."
Derek smiled. "Or a trollop. Or a floozy."
"He's adorable," she practically groaned. "And the way he kept smiling at you and the way you kept smiling back-"
"I didn't-"
"You did. In your own subtle, usually non-expressive way, you smiled. All night. It was sickeningly sweet," she sighed wistfully. "It looks like I'm going to have to give up my baby brother."
Derek scoffed. "What are you talking about?"
"You have my permission."
"To do what exactly?"
"To marry him, duh. Isn't that why you brought him to dinner?"
"No," Derek shook his head in disbelief. "Stiles is just my friend."
"Well then snatch him up before someone else does cause I like this kid. And I'm not gonna like much of anyone you bring home. So get on it." She punched him on the shoulder before jogging over to the others.
Derek frowned, rubbing the affected area. Then he sighed, looking to the boy walking ahead of him, keeping the others entertained. Stiles was just this beacon of light that people were drawn to. Derek wanted to do as his sister said. He wanted to just snatch him up and keep Stiles all to himself. But did Stiles want that too? As much as Derek speculated and with all his wishful thinking, the truth of the matter was that he just didn't know. But if today was any indication, perhaps just paying more attention to the way Stiles reacted would give him a better idea.
"So? Back to the hotel?" Laura asked once Derek finally joined the others.
"Um, actually," Derek spoke up. "Stiles said I could stay with him for the night." He glared at Laura and pleased look on her face, silently threatening her to stop. Like always, she just ignored him and waggled her eyebrows suggestively instead.
"Aw," Peter frowned, draping an arm around Stiles. "I wanna stay at Stiles' place, too." He looked to the boy. "I can stay, can't I?"
"Stiles, don't answer that," Derek cut in, turning his glare on his uncle.
Peter gasped in mock offense. "Derek, it sounds like you don't want me around. Were you planning something with Stiles? Something nau-"
"And that's enough of my family," Derek growled out, pulling an amused Stiles out from under his uncle's arm, maneuvering him so that he was behind Derek. He turned to Tom. "Oh yeah. And just so you know, if you hurt my sister, I will kill you."
Tom blinked in surprise as Laura rubbed his back and assured him that that wouldn't happen.
Derek lurched forward as Stiles thumped him discouragingly on the back. He sighed, before continuing. "But other than that, it was good to finally meet you. You're a good guy. I'm glad Laura found you." He held his hand out, mustering up what he hoped was a friendly smile.
"Yeah," Tom blinked again, taking the offered hand in his own, giving it a firm shake. "Likewise."
"Tomorrow, lunch," Laura said. "You too, Stiles."
"Ah," the boy chuckled. "Thank you for the invite, but no can do. I have a father to tend to and spoil before heading back to school."
"Next time, then," Laura said. "And bring your dad with you."
Stiles grinned and nodded. "Sure thing." He looked to each of them. "It was really nice meeting you all."
"And it was a pleasure meeting you," Peter smiled, slipping past Derek to throw his arm over the boy's shoulder once more. "I hope to see you again, Stiles."
Derek wasn't having it. He pulled Stiles away again, leading him back to the Jeep. "Good night," he huffed out, not bothering to look over his shoulder.
"Bye!" Stiles said, twisting around and waving with his free hand.
Derek could practically feel their eyes on his back. And he could pretty much figure out what they were thinking without even looking at their faces. He was going to get an earful at lunch tomorrow.
"Well that went well," Stiles smiled, putting his keys in the ignition. "I like your family."
"They're insane. Especially Peter."
"Aw, I like Peter. He's funny. Sassy."
"Don't let him catch you say that. He'll be all over you if he does."
Stiles laughed. "I don't mind. Ain't nothing wrong with a sugar daddy, am I right?" He winked.
Derek looked visibly disturbed by the notion.
Stiles pressed on. "Can you imagine? I could be your new uncle, Derek! But don't worry. I'd be the cool uncle and spoil you with lots of presents."
'No, no,' Derek thought, shaking his head. 'Do. Not. Want.'
Stiles only laughed harder. "I'm joking. Lighten up, Sourwolf."
Derek sighed and tried to relax into his seat. He certainly did not like the idea of Stiles as his uncle, be it a joke or otherwise.
The trip back to Stiles' house was peaceful after such a roller coaster of a dinner ride. It was already pretty late, and considering the excitement of their hike earlier, it was no surprise that both were pretty tired by the time they reached the house. They slipped into their pajamas and brushed their teeth side-by-side over the tiny sink, Stiles bumping Derek playfully to take up more room and Derek bumping him back. Then they bid each other 'good night,' before slipping away into the separate bedrooms.
Initially, Derek was prepared to just pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow. He was getting relaxed, getting comfortable in the small bed. But it wasn't until he was lying down in the darkened room, inhaling Stiles' scent from having slept there the night before, that he became troubled. Derek was literally on the brink of sleep after a tiring day, on the cusp of unconsciousness, when his brain decided to throw one last pitch at him, with a voice that sounded as smug as his uncle's.
'You know,' he thought. 'This is probably the same bed Stiles was in when he first masturbated.'
…
Sleep was overrated, anyway.
/\/\/\
Derek had tried moving out of the boy's room, hoping that maybe getting out of the bed would help him catch some Z's. Unfortunately for him, he was wrong. With that last thought, all Derek could think about was Stiles pleasuring himself everywhere in the house. He couldn't find one room, one chair, or one surface that he could look at without picturing a naked Stiles. And it only escalated from there. He soon couldn't look at any surface in the house without picturing having his way with Stiles. And in the back of his mind, he knew he was being ridiculous, but he was tired. He didn't have as much control over his wandering thoughts when this exhausted. It seemed that since his mind was determined to not think of screwing the sleeping boy, of screwing the Sheriff's son in the Sheriff's house nonetheless, it was all he could think about. Derek briefly entertained the thought of rubbing one out, just to get it over with. And it would be so easy, too. All he would have to do is just climb back into the bed, surround himself in Stiles' scent, and then it would be an embarrassingly short trip to euphoria. However, a rational part of his brain absolutely refused to let this happen. It reminded him that there would be shame and embarrassment in the morning. Plus, facing Stiles afterward would feel impossible. So Derek had suffered in silence, blaming Stiles for being so lovable, blaming Peter for suggesting that he had planned anything naughty with the younger boy to begin with, and blaming himself for being unable to control his wayward thoughts.
It wasn't until later - much later - that Derek finally passed out on the couch in front of the TV. And when Derek woke up just a few short hours later, that same TV had been moved so that the screen was lying face down. Feeling discombobulated, Derek blinked a few times, trying to figure out if his sleep-addled mind was playing tricks on him. The answer to that was a resounding 'no.'
The true culprit was actually pressed tightly against him, half on the couch and half draped over Derek, bundled snugly in a cocoon of blankets. Derek nearly jumped up in surprise.
'This is a ploy. Someone is messing with me. He's pulling my leg again. He's toying with me. He's…' Derek paused his mental rant to glance back at the TV, then to the stuffed wolf curled tightly in the boy's arms. Then it clicked. Derek sighed. 'He was scared.'
Unconsciously, he pulled the boy in tighter, gently nuzzling the top of his head. "Stiles," he said softly, not wanting to wake the boy. "It was just a movie. No creepy little girl is going to crawl out of the TV and steal your soul. Not while I'm around." Derek figured that Stiles probably got stuck in his head, obsessing over the part of last night's conversation about the scary movie. He probably replayed the movie in his mind, then probably freaked himself out about the girl coming through the TV. And from there, he probably went to find Derek, possibly wake him up to help distract him from the scary thoughts only to find him missing. Then, he stole the blanket before finding Derek downstairs on the couch.
Derek wondered what happened then. Did Stiles try to wake him? Or did he just slip under the blanket, knowing it would be okay since they had done this before? Had the tables been turned, Derek was pretty sure he would have watched him sleep for a bit, maybe even brushed his lips across his face if he were still feeling so bold. What if Stiles, despite being freaked out, felt a moment of similar courage? The idea was certainly a pleasing one. Perhaps a little too pleasing.
'Damn it, Derek, calm down,' he growled at himself, shifting so that less of Stiles was resting on him, specifically the part of the boy pressed against his hip and thigh area.
Unfortunately, the small movement made the boy stir. Stiles edged closer; his hand that had been tucked under him now splayed over Derek's chest; his leg – which had been fine where it was, thank you very much – inched higher as he tried to get comfortable. Feeling the boy's leg drag up against his own only made matters worse. He was getting too excited and in his panic that Stiles might actually feel it, Derek suddenly shoved the boy off him. Stiles landed unceremoniously on the floor in a sitting position just in front of the coffee table as he was startled awake.
Stiles blinked sleep-heavy eyes as Derek sat up and scrambled to grab a pillow to hide himself. The boy finally looked up at him, confusion on his face.
"S-sorry," Derek stammered. "Y-you startled me… is all." It was technically true.
Stiles just nodded. "The… jam is… on the left…" He closed his eyes and lied back down on the floor, adjusting his arm to use it as a pillow as the other curled back around the stuffed wolf.
Derek slumped back into the couch, breathing a sigh of relief. As he waited for his heart – and other body parts – to calm down, he praised whatever powers that be for Stiles' complete lack of awareness early morning, even after such a rude awakening. Once he felt more in control, Derek studied the sleeping boy before deciding to pick him up and dump him on the couch. He would have tried being more gentle, but he feared losing control again if Stiles were in his arms longer than necessary. Besides, it seemed the guy could sleep through anything.
And with that thought in mind, Derek glanced around the room, even though they were the only two in the house, before crouching down beside his sleeping friend. Derek watched him, curiously, poking him lightly on the nose. 'How can a person who looks so peaceful while they sleep be so energetic when they're awake?' He wondered. He thought back to his earlier idea of brushing his lips across this face that he adored, should he still feel so bold. Did he still feel bold?
Stiles suddenly turned, unconsciously elbowing Derek right on the nose. Derek held his face, stifling his groan of pain as he tumbled backward onto the floor. No. He most certainly did not feel bold, whatsoever.
It was still pretty early. The sun was still hidden behind the hills, but a sliver of light was beginning to shine against the night sky. And since the house had become a rather dangerous place, Derek thought it would be a good idea to try to get some air. He went back upstairs and into Stiles' room, making sure not to look at the bed, and slipped into a sweater and a pair of shorts. A nice jog would do him some good. It would help distract him from the pain of his nose and the inappropriate thoughts in his mind.
/\/\/\
When Derek returned from his run about an hour later, Stiles was finally awake, pouring himself a cup of coffee. It was amusing to watch the boy, still half-asleep really, shuffling around the kitchen with his blanket tucked neatly around him.
Derek smiled to himself. "Do I get one of those?" he asked, taking a seat on one of the stools by the counter.
Stiles peeked at Derek with one eye and nodded, reaching up for another mug. He watched as Stiles poured the coffee in with some creamer and some sugar, tasted it, and then adjusted it a bit more before finally setting it down in front of the older boy.
"Sorry," he yawned. "We don't have hazelnut. My dad lives for Irish Cream."
Derek nodded in understanding as he reached for the mug. There really was no need for the apology, though. The coffee in his hands was almost as good as what he normally got at the shop. It really amazed Derek how Stiles was able to take instant coffee and make it taste so good.
"Mmm," Stiles purred, taking a sip of his own brew once he settled into the stool next to Derek. "You'd think I'd be sick of the stuff considering where I work, but coffee is just too good to hate." He took another sip before looking at Derek. "How was your run?"
Derek nodded thoughtfully. "Good. Exactly what I needed after last night," he replied in all honesty. The run had given him an outlet for all the energy he had pent up. It was revitalizing. He drank some more coffee. "So… I noticed the TV was on the floor," he said casually, "…and that you were using me as a pillow." Derek didn't think it was the coffee that turned Stiles' cheeks pink.
"Uh-yeah. That," he stammered, putting his mug down, but keeping his hands wrapped around its warmth. "Well last night right before I was about to go to sleep, I was thinking about some of the stuff your family said and then suddenly all I could remember was what was said about the creepy little girl and then after that all I could think about was her doing that creepy little walk all the way to the bed and then I got freaked out and didn't want to get my brains sucked out or whatever she does to her victims so I grabbed Sourwolf and a pack of cards to see if you were awake, but you weren't even in the room so I panicked and thought maybe she got to you first but then I found you on the couch and I tried to wake you up but you're like a rock and completely out of it when you're asleep but I was still scared so I thought maybe it'd be okay if me and Sourwolf slept with you so you could keep us safe like last time."
'Holy hell…' Derek thought, eyebrows nearly touching his hairline, having inched their way up each time Stiles didn't stop to take a breath.
"What?" Stiles frowned. "Was that not okay? I thought maybe it wasn't when I woke up and you were gone."
His eyebrows returned to their rightful places. "No, it was fine," Derek reassured. "You're always welcome to sleep with me."
Stiles bit his lip, holding in a laugh.
"Wait, no. That's not what I meant," Derek frowned, eyes turning downward into his coffee as his own cheeks turned pink.
Stiles laughed this time, patting Derek on the back. "I got it, I got it. And thanks. It's nice to know I'm welcome in your bed," he teased.
Derek shook his head and sighed, opting to keep his mouth shut and down his coffee in silence.
"Hey, how come you were on the couch anyway? Was there something wrong with the bed?"
'You mean other than the fact that I kept picturing you naked on it?' Derek bit back. That kind of reply would only lead to trouble. "Um, no? I, uh, came down for some… water. Yeah. And just… was too tired to go back up?" It sounded like a good enough excuse to him. He nodded. "Yeah."
Stiles looked skeptical, but just nodded in acceptance.
When Derek finished his coffee, he went back upstairs to take a quick shower, as Stiles got ready to make breakfast. Once he was refreshed, Derek made his way back down.
"Ooh! Can you do me a favor?" Stiles asked, whisking some concoction in a mixing bowl. He nodded over to the trashcan. "Can you take that out for me?"
"Sure," Derek shrugged. He tugged at the lining, easing the bag out of the can. "Is it…?" He pointed towards the front, then the back door.
"Out the front," Stiles directed, nodding towards the door. "On the left side. Dump it in the green can."
Derek nodded and did as he was told. He was closing the lid when he heard a car pull up.
"Yeah, yeah. I hope your wife doesn't castrate you for staying out all night! I'm not locking her up for you if she does."
Derek glanced over. The Sheriff was home. He was leaning into the open car door – as far as his crutches would let him, anyway.
"Haha, all right, all right. Take care." The Sheriff closed the door and waved as it pulled out of the driveway and took off down the street. He turned and had started to go towards the house when Derek caught his eye. "Ah. You must be Derek."
Derek nodded. "Uh, yes- yes, sir."
The older man looked at the garbage can, then back at the boy standing before him. "I asked my son to take that out yesterday." He cocked an eyebrow. "You doing his chores for him, Derek?"
Derek shook his head. He didn't want Stiles to get in trouble. "He's busy. Making us breakfast."
"Us?"
"You. Making you breakfast," he quickly amended, although he didn't exactly know why. Stiles was making breakfast for all three of them.
The Sheriff looked amused. He waved Derek over, to which he immediately complied. He looked him once over. "Derek Hale… I knew your parents," he said gently, placing a hand on Derek's shoulder. "It's terrible what happened to them. They were good people."
Derek just nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat. The two stood in silence for a moment. It felt slightly awkward to Derek, but if he were being honest, the hand upon his shoulder was actually a bit comforting.
The Sheriff was the one to break the silence. "Come on. Let's get back inside. I smell… cinnamon pancakes?" He chuckled. "Those are my favorite. I wonder what he's buttering me up for, hm?" He looked suggestively at Derek.
Derek was shaking his head, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find something to say. "I- I don't-"
The older man just sighed before pushing Derek heartily towards the front door.
Derek was soon going to realize that the moment of comfort out in the driveway was a short-lived one. Once the Sheriff got back into his house, it was like the tables had turned.
Derek actually began to feel nervous under the steady gaze of Sheriff Stilinski, even an injured one with a slight hangover. It made him feel like he was a suspect in some crime he didn't even commit. In fact, it made him feel like confessing to things he did commit. Like thinking impure thoughts of his son under his own roof. It didn't help that they were now sitting face-to-face across the dining table while Stiles was still in the kitchen, cooking for them.
"So, how old are you Derek? You know, despite California law, my son is still pretty young-"
"Dad, what are you even saying? Leave him alone and eat your pancakes. They're cinnamon. Just how you like 'em," Stiles chastised before flipping another flapjack out of the pan and onto his father's growing stack.
"Is there a reason why you're making me my favorite breakfast, son? Anything you'd like to confess?"
Stiles gaped. "What? Can't a kid make his father's favorite food because he wants to? It is our last morning together for a while, Dad. You should be thankful it's not plain wheat toast after you abandoned me yesterday. I come all the way home to check up on you and this is how you repay me?" He shook his head, grumbling out that last part.
The Sheriff just snorted.
"And you better eat those blueberries. I know they'll go to waste once I leave so you better eat them now while I can watch you."
The Sheriff rolled his eyes, but did as he was told, bringing a forkful up to his mouth. He turned his attention back to the boy in front of him. "Did you know, Derek? I'm pretty handy with a rifle."
"Dad."
"What? I'm just making good conversation," he huffed. "Lighten up, kid." He looked back at Derek. "So tell me, Derek. What are you studying?"
"Um, criminology, sir. I'd like to become a detective one day."
"Is that right? That's a very respectable position, if I do say so myself."
Derek smiled in agreement.
"You know, Stiles is studying to become a forensic analyst."
Derek breathed out a soft, yet nervous, chuckle. "Yeah, he told me. He's convinced we're going to be partners."
"Is that right?" The Sheriff cocked his head to the side, chomping down on a blueberry. "Partners?"
Derek just cleared his throat, grabbing his glass of orange juice and taking a hearty swig. He scrambled for something else to say. "Um, Stiles is a great cook," he said lamely, mentally berating himself for not thinking of something better.
"That he is. Anyone would be lucky to have him. Even as a partner."
"Dad."
"What?"
"You're saying 'partner' all weird," he frowned, pointing his spatula at him dangerously. "Stop being weird. You're making him uncomfortable."
"It's been my experience that whenever someone feels uncomfortable in a situation such as this, he's got something to hide," he turned his eyes back on Derek, who was now squirming in his seat. "But you don't have anything to hide, do you Derek?"
"No, sir. Nothing."
"Good," he flashed him a toothy grin.
Derek couldn't help but feel like it was a trap. Like that was the sort of smile that people used to lull their victims into a false sense of security before they struck.
"So, tell me, Derek," the Sheriff started around a mouthful of pancakes. "Do you know what it's like to get hit by twelve-gauge?"
"Dad!"
Derek could actually feel the blood drain from his face.
"It's a valid question, Stiles!"
"It is not appropriate breakfast conversation, Dad!"
"And what, pray tell, is?"
"I don't know, talk about sports or something. Preferably something that doesn't involve guns."
"Fine," the Sheriff agreed through gritted teeth. He looked lazily back at Derek. "Sports. You like sports, yes?" Derek merely nodded. "What's your favorite?"
"I guess, baseball…"
"Baseball? Is that right?" the Sheriff nodded in acceptance. "I like baseball too. Do you know what it's like to get hit by a baseball bat?"
"Dad! Oh my God!"
"A baseball bat is not a gun, Stiles!"
Derek just felt tinier and tinier – and maybe just a tad more afraid for his life – as the morning went on.
/\/\/\
It was just about a quarter to noon when the doorbell rang. The three of them had migrated to the couch and, after placing the TV back on its stand ("Seriously, son? You watched that movie again? Wait… whose bed did you crawl into this time?" "None, Dad. I slept on the couch."), they watched some Storage Wars. The Sheriff was seated comfortably and purposefully in between the two boys, his injured ankle resting on a pillow upon the coffee table. Stiles had hopped off the couch to answer the door.
"Oh, hey Peter."
Derek's head darted towards the front door. 'No way…'
"Ah, hello again, Stiles. You're looking mighty chipper this morning."
Derek shut his eyes. 'Yes way…' He got off the couch and made his way to the door, standing protectively behind Stiles. "Peter. What are you doing here?"
"Isn't it obvious? I'm here to pick up my nephew for lunch," he grinned, charmingly.
"How did you find this place?" Derek asked.
"What? Like it's hard?"
"What's going on? Who's at the door?" came the voice of the Sheriff from where he was still seated in front of the TV.
Stiles invited Peter in, leading him to where his dad was resting. "Dad, this is Peter. Derek's uncle."
"Ah, yes. We've met," he said slowly. He nodded to their guest. "Morning, Mr. Hale."
"Sheriff," he nodded in return. "Always a pleasure."
"You're not causing any trouble for my deputies, are you?"
"Please," Peter said, with a wave of his hand. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"What? No joyrides? No parties? No threesomes?"
"You have a wild imagination, Sheriff. I like that. Call me next time I'm in town. We'll try all three." Peter just grinned, winking at the older man.
The Sheriff just glanced at Derek as if to say 'this is the type of person you're related to?' He tossed him another look, this time to say 'if you pull anything your uncle's done on my son, I'll show you the barrel end of my rifle.' Then he shook his head before turning back to his TV. Derek was finding it hard to breathe.
Peter laughed as he turned to Derek. "You ready? Go get your things. Your sister is waiting for us."
It took a second for Derek to come to his senses, having been momentarily stunned by his uncle's audacity. Without a word, Derek made his way up to Stiles' room to collect his things before swiftly coming back down, lest Peter cause even more trouble.
"Okay, I'm ready." He walked over to the Sheriff and held out his hand. "Sir, it was nice to meet you. I hope your ankle feels better." He spared a brief glance at Peter who had a look of surprise on his face, before a strong grip clenched his outstretched palm.
"Good meeting you, too, Derek. Take care." And there was that smile again. The one that looked friendly, but also quite dangerous. "And just so you know, I keep my shotgun fully loaded."
"Dad!"
Derek paled, nodding slightly before walking over to where Stiles was standing with Peter. He cleared his throat before turning to his friend. "I'll see you at four, right?"
"Yup," Stiles nodded with a smile. "Don't be late. Actually, I guess you could be. Your uncle has a private jet and all."
Peter grinned. "You could be late too, Stiles-"
"And it's time to go." Derek took hold of his uncle's shoulders and led him out the door.
Peter just laughed. "My nephew is so predictable. Goodbye Sheriff! Goodbye Stiles!"
Derek pushed Peter all the way to his car. He tossed his bag into the back before climbing into the passenger seat. He waited for his uncle to start the car, but after a few moments of nothing, Derek looked to his side. Peter was grinning at him, knowingly.
"What?" Derek barked.
"Someone has a cru~sh," Peter said in a singsong voice.
"Would you just drive already!"
Peter laughed the whole way there.
/\/\/\
Lunch was almost as excruciating as dinner. He truly believed that this was punishment for all the things he put his uncle and sister through. It was as if somewhere down the line, they had made an agreement to ruin his life by way of humiliation.
"So did you two have a fun night? Any naked parties?" Peter asked smoothly, sipping his tea.
Derek scowled, pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth. "We're just friends."
"I have naked parties with friends all the time," he said with a wave of his hand.
"Clearly you like him," Laura popped in. "So what are you waiting for?"
"What do you mean 'clearly'?" Derek frowned.
"Are you really gonna make me do this?" Laura said, folding her arms over her chest. "You're really gonna make me do this. Fine. Last night alone, you were staring at him with twinkles in your eyes. Twinkles, Derek. Like, every freakin' time Tom asked you a question, you'd frown, but then you'd look at Stiles and everything would be right as rain. It was sickeningly adorable."
"I didn't frown every time-" Derek shook his head, looking at Tom.
"It's okay," he chuckled. "We just met. Some people just aren't comfortable around people they just met. Your sister can be like that, too."
"Am not," she frowned.
He just smiled at her, kissing her softly on the temple.
"You should have seen him at their house," Peter piped. "All cordial and proper with the Sheriff. Trying to make that good impression on the future father-in-law, eh Derek?"
"It's not like it would have done any good anyway, thanks to you. He probably thinks I'm some sex-crazed maniac just by association."
"Hey, I'll have you know nymphomania is a real thing."
"We're getting off track here," Laura huffed in frustration. "We're talking about Derek and his obvious love for the little smiley boy. Hey, how come you never listen to me when I tell you not to be rude? Does he really have that much control over you? Are you really that far gone?"
"Not to mention, you've basically peed all over him, marking him as your territory," Peter added. "I'm just trying to have a little light-hearted fun with the guy and you're practically foaming at the mouth."
Derek just turned a glare on his uncle. "Peter, you know how people say that in every family there's a creepy uncle that hits on your friends? That's you. You're my creepy uncle. I'd behave the same way even if I weren't interested in Stiles."
"Ah ha! Ha! You said it!" Laura said, pointing at her brother and looking to Peter for confirmation. "You admitted you're at least interested in him!" Derek exhaled heavily, rolling his eyes. "So why, dear brother, is that boy still on the market? Stake your claim and go get laid. Please."
"Cause it's that easy? Look, I don't even know how he feels about me."
"Oh my God, Derek. Obviously he likes you too. The way he kept smiling-"
"He's like that with everyone. No, seriously," he reiterated at her skeptical look. "Stiles is always smiling and laughing with everyone. He's got tons of friends. I just happen to be one of them." Derek sighed, pushing the last bits of food around on his plate. "He's always touching and hugging his friends. I've even seen him kiss one of his friends on the finger, and they don't even seem to be as close as he is with the others so there's no telling what I haven't seen. And I've also seen him get kissed by another guy friend and not even blink twice at it. That's just how he is." Derek set his fork down and pushed his plate away. "I mean, sure there are times when I think he could like me," he smiled softly, remembering the blush on Stiles' face just yesterday. "But, until I'm sure, I'm not gonna ruin what we have just cause of my stupid crush on him."
And that truly was the heart of it. Although Derek knew and understood how much he cared for Stiles, the fact of the matter was that he didn't know how Stiles felt in return. He knew that they were friends, good friends. Hell, to Derek, Stiles was the best friend he ever had, but even then, the feeling might not be mutual. Stiles had Scott. And Lydia. And the list went on and on. So even though Derek might be feeling this way, he wasn't going to make a move on it until he had irrefutable evidence in the boy's mutual interest.
"That's laaaame," Laura drawled.
"I'm with her. You gotta break that pony before he runs off into the wild," Peter said with a shrug.
Derek just tossed an exasperated look at his uncle's crudeness.
"Okay, come on, guys. Lay off him. It's hard having a crush and not knowing how they feel for you in return," Tom said, coming to Derek's defense. He was liking this Tom guy more and more. "It's nerve-wracking."
Derek actually felt bad for the guy; thinking of what he must have went through with Laura. If she had only agreed to have dinner with him as business associates, he was probably faced with a one-sided crush all his own. It made Derek wonder how and when Tom figured out the feelings were mutual. Did he find the courage to ask her out one more time? Or was she the one who finally came to her senses and asked him out instead? There were things he could learn from them; things that might help him in his own relationship with Stiles.
"Nope," Laura shook her head in utter disagreement. "Derek's being a little scaredy-cat. I say, man up and do shameless things with him. Like ridiculously, things-that-might-get-you-sent-to-jail, shameless. All day. And night. And double time on holidays."
"That's my niece."
Derek shook his head, wondering if there were some way he could switch families.
/\/\/\
At a quarter to four, Derek was waiting at the station wondering where Stiles was. It had taken him a while to convince his uncle to go away, threatening to rid the man of his eyebrows should he stay. His sister was no picnic, either. She wanted to stay and watch 'the show,' as she put it, but luckily his future brother-in-law had the good graces and good sense to drag her away, convincing her that the contractors were probably waiting on her word for some final touches and whatnot. Derek had to remember to be much nicer to the guy in the future. He was definitely a keeper.
At ten 'til four, Derek was beginning to get nervous. Was everything okay? He needed to board the train if he intended to get back to school today. At five 'til, Derek was ready to grab his bag from where it was stowed away above his seat to run all the way to the Sheriff's house if need be. He pulled out his phone and was ready to dial when he saw through the window as Stiles ran across the platform and onto the train. Stiles grinned when he spotted Derek, shoving his bag up top and crashing down into the seat next to him.
"Where were you? I didn't think you were gonna make it."
Stiles laughed. "Yeah, me neither. I had to make a quick stop before coming here."
"Oh? Where?" He asked, just as the phone in his hand beeped twice. He glanced at it to see two new text messages.
"Your house, actually," Stiles replied.
Derek was just about to ask why, but didn't have to once he opened the messages.
One was from ANSWER THE PHONE DEREK OR I'LL KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP It's Laura:
He made us pie, Derek! Pie. Fucking marry him already!
The second was from Uncle I Hope Insanity Isn't Hereditary:
oh wow. he must be very good with his tongue ;P
He cleared the screen before Stiles could catch a glimpse of it. "You, um, made them pie?"
"Yeah," he smiled. "Was that them? Did they like it?"
"I'd say so…"
Stiles exhaled in relief. "Good." He relaxed back in his seat before jumping up again. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot." He reached up to pull something from his bag, as Derek pointedly did not stare at his exposed midriff and the happy trail leading down into-
"Here," he grinned, sitting back down, handing a Tupperware container and a fork to Derek.
Derek popped it open and was immediately hit by the smell of freshly baked apple pie. His mouth watered instantly.
"I took my dad grocery shopping after you left so that I at least know he's eating something healthy in between all the junk I'm sure he hides from me. And since apples are in season, I figured why not? They paid for dinner. I might as well give them something nice. Hopefully, make a good impression."
Derek scoffed, cramming a forkful into his mouth. "Please. You don't need to win them over with pie. They're already in love with you. You should have just given it to me."
"Are you saying that if I keep making you pie, you'll fall in love with me?"
Derek snapped his head to the side, eyes wide, his fork half in his mouth. "What?"
Stiles just laughed, patting Derek on the shoulder. "Here," he said, hand held out for the fork. "Let me try some."
Together they demolished the hefty slice as the train shipped them back to school. Along the way, Derek finally taught Stiles a new card game called Speed, in which Derek found out that against Stiles, he really had none. When the train stopped, they used their hour wait to go find some dinner at the chicken joint across the street. With Derek watching the clock this time, they had no problem making it back to the train in a calm, orderly fashion. And during their last few hours before their stop, they napped, this time with Derek using Stiles' shoulder as the pillow. And after Derek had dropped Stiles off and was now back in the comfort of his own apartment, he had to think that although the trip was unplanned and filled with unexpected twists and turns, it had gone pretty well.
As Derek climbed into bed, ready to turn in for the night, he got one last text from The Awesome Cool Guy Stiles :D.
hey! look what ur sis sent me :D :D :D
Derek found himself staring back at a picture of himself. With bleached hair. Shutting off his bedside lamp, and pulling his blanket up over himself, he had to think maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if things hadn't gone so well. At least then Stiles and his sister wouldn't be new texting pals. And since there were a lot of photos, more incriminating than the last, that she could send Stiles' way, he had to remind himself to be much nicer to Laura as well.
Notes: I love Peter Hale. I mean, I love sane, not crazy from the fire, Peter. I love Uncle Sassy whose brain-to-mouth filter just might be as bad as Stiles'. I also love Papa Stilinki. I love a Papa Stilinski who is way too protective over his precious baby boy. Yeah.
Also, during the part where Papa Stilinski notices the TV, all he has to do is look at it to understand what happened there, having been witness to it the first time his little boy watched that movie and having found himself being snuggled in his bed the next morning. And technically, Stiles didn't lie about crawling into the couch. He just wisely decided not to mention the fact that Derek had been in it at the time. He really is a smart guy.
Oh yes. I also like to believe that the only contact name he chose to change on his phone, when someone else input it for him, is his uncle's. It makes me want to know what he's labeled his other contacts. That Chinese Food Place That Delivers. That Chinese Food Place That Doesn't Deliver But Has Better Noodles. Haha. Yeah. That's exactly what his contact list looks like.