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“Derek, babe? Honey-bun? My Wumpy-umpy-umpkins?”
Stiles sing-songed as he came in from the living room to where Derek was currently checking the food baking. He pushed back upright and turned to stare at Stiles as he made his way into the room, squinting at him. He knew something was up by the way he’d been so fidgety all day, but the excess of pet names was just validation.
“What?”
He asked, watching as Stiles slid into one of the stools at the island bar, tapping his long fingers against his coffee cup nervously. Derek watched how he chewed on his lip before flicking his gaze up toward him, sighing.
“You know I go home for winter break next week, right?” He started, waiting until Derek nodded before continuing. “Well, I’m obviously going to be there for the entire break and I don’t want to be away from you that long.”
Derek blinked a few times at the implications of what Stiles was trying to say, hesitating before leaning over the bar on his elbows and giving Stiles an expectant look for him to continue. He sighed like he was hoping Derek would take the incentive to finish where he was going with this, but that obviously wasn’t happening. He scrubbed a hand through his messy hair before saying, “Well, I may have mentioned to Dad how I’ve been sleeping here for the past month or so, and he wants to meet the guy his son is ‘shacking up with’.”
Derek groaned at that term. Stiles had told him a lot about his father in the time they had been together, how he was the sheriff and fiercely protective. He figured there would be a meeting between them, but he wasn’t expecting it to be so soon.
“Please?” Stiles jumped in to plead, looking up at him with those ridiculous big brown eyes that had a habit of disarming Derek before he even had a chance to prepare for them. “Please, Derek? Please,” He continued, drawing out the last ‘please’ longer than should be possible in one breath.
“Fine! Fine, just stop that, you brat.” He acquiesced, Stiles whooping victoriously before stretching over the bar to plant a sloppy kiss on Derek’s mouth.
“Don’t you wish you could say no to this handsome face?” He teased, getting a tug to his ear in retaliation.
- - -
They ended up deciding that Stiles would go home by himself so he could have time with just his father, to get to hang out with his friends and father for the week before Derek would fly down to join them. He saw Stiles off at the airport and spent the next week fretting.
He didn’t like Stiles being across the country instead of there beside him in bed, snoring and sleep talking like Derek was so used to. He didn’t like freaking out wondering what Stiles’ father was going to think of him. He didn’t like the thought of Stiles’ friends disapproving of him either. He knew it was all possible, and that made it worse.
The week felt like it both dragged and flew by simultaneously, but he was more than ready to go by the time he got on his flight because he hadn’t been apart from Stiles for so long in.. Well, never. From the moment they got together, they’d been practically inseparable.
Stiles all but tackled him at the airport when he touched down, throwing his arms around him and kissing him like they hadn’t seen each other in years.
“What’s that all about?”
He asked against Stiles’ lips, pressing in to kiss him again before he could answer because he really missed Stiles and he was just happy to be reunited.
“I don’t know. They always do it in the movies so I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.” Stiles answered with a grin once they broke apart. He rolled his eyes fondly at Stiles’ usual antics as they stepped back and he was immediately glancing around at all the passersby, trying to spot the Sheriff from what he remembered of pictures Stiles showed him.
He didn’t see anyone even remotely similar. Stiles caught on to what he was doing and quickly explained, “He’s at work right now. Scott rode with me. Come meet him.” He said, grabbing Derek by his jacket sleeve and tugging him along.
He was listening to Stiles chattering rampantly about the week he’d had when he spotted a familiar face that he recognized from photos—Stiles’ best friend. Stiles pointed at Derek with a wide grin as if saying ‘look, this is him’. Derek went to raise a hand in an awkward wave but froze, planting himself firmly in place when he noticed a particular feeling that arose from Scott.
He watched the way Scott’s eyes suddenly went sharp, narrowing at him. This definitely wasn’t what he expected from this trip.
Neither of them said anything about the incident until Derek had his luggage and they were headed out to the parking lot. It was only then that Scott turned on him, grabbing Stiles’ arm and urging, “Get away from him, Stiles.”
Stiles tried to protest, asking what was going on as Derek pushed him away to keep an all-out fight from happening. Stiles watched in confusion as they both glared each other down, asking, “Dude, what the hell? What are you doing?”
“He’s like me.” Scott said, not taking his eyes off of Derek. Derek’s expression crumbled into one of surprise instead when Stiles’ face morphed into one of pure shock, glancing between the two before settling on Derek.
“You- Seriously?” He croaked, looking at Derek incredulously. Derek had wanted to tell Stiles for a long time; he had, really, but he didn’t want to rush it. It was a hard thing to accept and he didn’t want Stiles to be scared and run away like so many people would. He just didn’t realize Stiles already knew about these kinds of things.
“Are you freaking kidding me. You’re a werewolf?” He practically shouted, Scott instantly shushing him before people nearby overheard. “He’s the alpha I smelled on you.” Scott told him, and Stiles looked even more surprised, if possible.
“I- Holy shit, I’ve been dating you for six months and didn’t realize that you’re a freakin’ werewolf? How?” Stiles crowed as he wheeled around and continued stomping toward the vehicle. “Should have known. I Should have known with your obsession with sniffing me! Oh my god, I’m so oblivious,” He continued, Derek giving Scott a look before hurrying after Stiles.
He caught up with him near the Jeep and grabbed onto his arm to halt him, letting him turn around when he was ready.
“An alpha. When were you planning on telling me that?”
He questioned, glaring at Derek like he was in the wrong for not being able to tell Stiles something he thought could easily make or break what they had. He sighed, flexing his fingers against Stiles’ sleeve as he admitted, “I didn’t think you would stick around once you knew.”
The drive to Stiles’ house was immensely awkward, to say the least. Scott was uncomfortable, he was uncomfortable, and Stiles was gobsmacked as he went over all of the signs he should have picked up on that hinted at what Derek was.
‘You didn’t like that one body-wash because the smell was too strong, right?’
‘That’s why you’re so bad about leaving hickeys, then?’
‘That’s how you can always tell when I’m lying.’
‘So the rubbing and touching is scenting?’
‘oh my God, that’s why you’re so into come-‘
That was when Scott finally stopped Stiles with a loud groan, begging, “Please, I do not want those kinds of details.”
He was reluctant to leave Stiles alone with Derek. It took more than a lot of convincing from Stiles that if Derek really wanted to inflict harm on him, wouldn’t he have done that when he had Stiles all alone up in New York?
He showed Derek around his home, the room he grew up in and photos of himself as a tiny little gap-toothed child with long floppy hair. He was helping Stiles cook dinner when he heard the telltale sound of tires pulling into the driveway and froze.
“Oh my god, that’s what that look means. Your freakish wolf hearing. God I am so blind.” Stiles said when he noticed Derek had gone still, quickly rinsing his hands off and pushing Derek toward the living room.
He wouldn’t admit it to Stiles that his heart felt like it was in his throat, but it was definitely in his throat. It was one thing to find out Stiles was actually in on the whole supernatural thing and belonged to a pack, but meeting his father? That was an entirely different story.
The Sheriff stepped into the room as he was loosening his tie and stopped when he saw the two, not bothering to be subtle about the way he looked Derek over. Stiles’ fingers slipped down to grab at his, squeezing in a vice grip as he gave his dad a nervous smile.
“Dad, this is Derek.”
He introduced, his father not moving for a long moment as he took in the sight of them. He finally stepped forward with his outstretched, Derek shaking it firmly before saying, “Sir.”
He didn’t really look much like Stiles at all, save for the expressive brows, but then again, Stiles always said he’d taken his looks from his mother.
“Hale, right?” The Sheriff said, waiting until Derek nodded before motioning for them to carry on with their business before heading upstairs. Stiles let out a loud sigh as soon as they were alone.
“Did that… Go well?”
He questioned as they headed back to the kitchen to finish dinner, Stiles handing Derek a bowl of vegetables and demanding he cut them up into cubes.
“It went, awkward.” He responded before leaning over to press a kiss to Derek’s jaw and assuring him he was doing fine so far.
Dinner was just as awkward. They ate gathered around a small table, the Sheriff insisting Derek take the offered beer he was given with a pointed, “Since you’re old enough.”
Stiles kept the majority of the conversation going, telling his dad things about Derek and how much he’d helped Stiles acclimate to the new scenery, but he couldn’t shake the very likely possibility that he was being disapproved of.
“So, Derek. You’re kind of mature. How old are we talking, here?”
The Sheriff asked halfway through dinner, Stiles choking on a piece of carrot before wheezing, “Dad.” Derek gritted his teeth as he answered, “Twenty-five, Sir.” And listened to the curt little hum he got in response.
“And how did you two happen?”
Stiles tried to answer but the Sheriff held a hand up to him before looking back to Derek, who absolutely did not squirm in his seat.
“He came into the bar I work at with the most ridiculous excuse of an ID I’ve ever seen, sassed me for two hours as he drank root beer, then ran into me at a bookshop maybe a week later by ‘accidentally’ dropping a book on my head.”
Derek answered nervously, not sure how the Sheriff would react to the attempt at illegal drinking on Stiles’ part, but he wasn’t about to be dishonest with him and risk even higher chances of being disapproved of.
The Sheriff looked between them seriously for all of three seconds before dissolving into laughter, dropping his head into his hand as he asked, “And you willingly went out with him after that?”
“Hey! I resent that.”
Stiles yelped, elbowing Derek in his side when he started shaking with his own attempts at keeping in a bark of laughter because yeah, it really did sound like a ridiculous way to meet someone. It was a ridiculous way to meet someone. Dinner went well after that.
He was supposed to sleep in the guest room that night, and Stiles in his own, but he wasn’t the least bit surprised when he heard his door creaking open thirty minutes after the Sheriff went to bed. He rolled over to watch Stiles grimacing when the door clicked loudly as he closed it, before turning to Derek with a mischievous gleam in his eye.
“You did good today.” He whispered as he tip-toed across the room and pushed a knee up onto the end of the mattress, hoisting himself up and climbing up toward Derek. “So good. I mean, really good.” He elaborated as he made his way up Derek’s body before settling on his lap.
He smelled of arousal and excitement, with a hint of sandalwood that made Derek want to pull him in regardless of where they were. His fingers went to twist into the fabric of Derek’s shirt as he leaned in to press their lips together, kissing him greedily before pulling back with a shaky exhale that sent a slight quiver through Derek’s abdomen.
“So you’re a werewolf, too. I seriously can’t believe I didn’t notice that. So now that I know, are you going to mark me up and have your wicked way with me?” He asked, lips trailing along Derek’s jawline toward his neck.
“Haven’t we already done that?” He chuckled quietly as he let his had tip back, making room for Stiles as his lips made it to the skin below his earlobe.
Stiles huffed out a hot breath against Derek’s skin, informing, “It’s different now. Both parties will know. Seriously, I have all kinds of kinky werewolf-sex things in mind we could’ve been doing this whole time.”
Derek’s brows knitted together at that, gasping when Stiles rolled down against him. “What kind of things?” He inquired, a shiver pulsing down his spine at the feeling of Stiles’ teeth grazing against the length of his neck.
“How about some hands-on demonstrations, Pup?” He murmured, slipping back up to kiss Derek again. He swallowed down the affronted sound Derek made before licking at the seam of his lips in an unfair, teasing flick before Derek had the chance to warn, “If you think knowing gives you the rights to use terms like ‘pup’ or ‘puppy’, you are completely misguided.”
Stiles let out a small bubble of a laugh and was dipping back in for more when Derek put a hand against his chest and shoved him backwards just hard enough that he toppled off of his lap.
“What the- Jerk,” Stiles whined, kicking at Derek and getting his arm.
“Go to bed.” Derek snorted, reaching down to prod a finger against Stiles’ armpit and watching the way he squirmed to get away before he accidentally laughed and woke his dad.
“But sex,” He tried, saying it in a piteous, whiny voice that had Derek pushing at him again with his legs. “Your dad is just down the hall. Wait until he’s at work, at least, you weirdo.”
Stiles rolled his eyes dramatically and flopped off of the bed with a loud enough thunk to have Derek wincing, both of them going quiet for a few moments before Stiles was peeking up over the mattress and waggling his brows at him.
“You know you want all up on this. C’mon, we’ll do it on the floor so we don’t have to worry about the bed squeaking or hitting the wall.”
He tried, Derek just about to respond when from down the hall, he heard a door open and the Sheriff calling, “Bed, Stiles.”
Stiles called back with a drawn out, “Fine, god, you two suck.” And pushing up to his feet. He ducked in to press a quick kiss to Derek’s forehead, whispering, “Night night, sleep tight. Don’t let the fleas bit your furry wolf ass.”
He ducked away with a loud laugh and headed to his room, Derek listening to him settle into his own bed and get comfortable before he heard the quiet, “Love you, idiot.”