It’s a little after five when Stiles finally gets home from work. He can hear music playing in the kitchen, and he smiles slightly as he heads that way. Derek’s already cooking, and, from the smell of things, he must have been at it for a while. Lydia and Jackson are coming over for dinner at eight, and Derek’s actually been a little nervous about it despite having already gained Lydia’s approval.
“Something smells good.” Stiles puts down the loaf of French bread that Derek texted him to get after work. “I hope this is what you needed. It feels fresh.”
“It’s perfect. I’m going to make garlic bread to go with the lasagna and salad,” Derek says, taking the bread and putting it on the counter where he’s working.
“Lasagna, huh? That sounds really good.” Stiles walks up behind Derek and hugs his waist, brushing a kiss against the back of his neck. “You feel tense, babe.”
“Lydia scares me, just a little,” Derek admits, turning his head so he can brush a kiss against Stiles’ cheek. “And you said Jackson’s an ass. Besides, they’re your family, so I feel like there’s more pressure to ensure they like me.”
“How could they not like you?” Stiles kisses Derek’s jaw. “You’re amazing, and you make me happy.”
“I didn’t even get this anxious meeting your dad.” Derek huffs a laugh. “I’ll just be glad when tonight’s over, you know?”
“I know. Kind of like how I felt when Laura was coming to visit.” Stiles walks over to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water out of it. “I’m going to run upstairs to take a shower and change out of my uniform. I’ll help you finish with dinner when I get back down.”
“There isn’t a ton left to do. I just put the lasagna in to start cooking. It’s a little early, but I’m cooking it low temp so it should be done about eight.” Derek smiles wryly. “I’ve been pretty bored today since Laura’s gone back to Oregon, and there’s only so much sitting around that I can do without going crazy. There’s only so much reading, streaming, cooking, and cleaning I can do, but I did end up making several dozen cookies plus a cake for dessert tonight.”
“When are you planning on starting the rebuilding project? That’ll probably keep you a little busy.” Stiles frowns in thought. “I’m sure you could always help Scott at the clinic, if you wanted to volunteer with the animals. Victoria is the principal of the high school, and she could probably tell you how to apply for sub positions whenever you’re ready to do a little teaching again.”
“When Laura and Cora get moved down, we’ll start working with a builder to figure out what we want. Then we can begin building the different houses on the property.” Derek looks at him and shrugs. “I like dogs, so maybe I’ll talk to Scott. The sub thing might be a good way to fill the hours, too, while also getting an idea of how Beacon Hills High operates. They don’t currently have an openings, but I’m hopeful that something might become available during the summer.”
“There are a few other places relatively close, too. You can probably sub for all of them.” Stiles takes a drink of the cold water. “I don’t know what kind of trouble I’d get into if I didn’t have work and the pack to distract me.”
“I hadn’t really noticed much until this week.” Derek shrugs. “It’s been moving in and trying to figure out how to coexist in the same space and just settling in, really. After Laura visited, I realized how much I do miss my pack. I knew I missed them, but it feels like part of me is empty since she left Monday.”
“It probably didn’t helped that I agreed to that double last night, either, huh?” Stiles puts the bottle down on the island. “I’m trying to remember that I have another person to think about now when stuff like an extra shift comes open or I’m making plans with the pack. I’ll get better about it, promise, but you might need to remind me sometimes if I fuck up.”
“It’s fine.” Derek is totally lying, and Stiles doesn’t even need to be a werewolf to realize that, but he lets it go because Derek’s already anxious about dinner tonight. He doesn’t need Stiles pushing his buttons and making him feeling worse because he’s trying to avoid admitting that he’s annoyed Stiles worked a double yesterday without checking in first.
“Going from me to us is just going to take some adjustment,” Stiles promises, looking right into Derek’s pretty eyes so he’ll know he’s serious. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you to find out if you were cool with me taking the extra shift yesterday.”
“It isn’t just an adjustment for you, Stiles,” Derek points out quietly. “I understand that I’m not your first priority, not yet, but a text letting me know you were thinking of doing a double might have been nice.”
“I can’t promise it won’t happen again because I’m only human.” Stiles leans over to brush his lips against the corner of Derek’s mouth. “But I can promise that I’ll try as hard as I can to get used to having to think about another person when I’m making personal decisions.”
“I don’t expect you to be perfect. Neither of us are going to be great at this because we don’t have any real experience with relationships. Successful ones, at least.” Derek kisses his forehead. “Trying hard is all we can do. Now go shower. You smell like the station since you’ve been there more hours than not in the last two days.”
“I’m off this weekend, you know? Saturday and Sunday off together comes around every few weeks unless I request it,” Stiles says. “Maybe we can use that voucher from Cora and drive up to Oregon for the weekend? Just the two of us with no pack or jobs to interfere?”
Derek smiles, a flash of bunny teeth visible. “I’d like that. I can contact the b&b and reserve our rooms for Friday and Saturday night.”
“Good. You can do that tomorrow. I’ll let Scotty know we’ll be gone for the weekend in the morning,” Stiles says. “Hey, what exactly does the station smell like?”
“You don’t want to know.” Derek wrinkles his nose and mock shudders. He snorts when Stiles rolls his eyes.
“Probably the PI I had to arrest last night. He threw up on my shoes when I hauled him in, but I rinsed them before coming home.” Stiles shrugs. “Such is the exciting life of a deputy. I’ll be back down in fifteen minutes.”
“Do Lydia and Jackson like salads?” Derek asks. “I was planning on making a side salad for the lasagna.”
“Sure. Put extra tomatoes in because Lydia loves them.” Stiles grins before leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs.
It ends up taking him almost thirty minutes to shower, wash his hair, and get dressed. There’s a brief interlude to answer a few texts from Kira, who is asking him to help volunteer at the autumn carnival her school is planning in a couple of weeks, and that leads to him texting several other pack members to encourage their volunteering, too. Halloween is a little over a month away, and he needs to remember to ask Derek if he’s too cool for costumes or not because it’s one of Stiles’ favorite holidays. Costumes are a must, in his opinion, but he knows not everyone over the age of like twenty necessarily agrees.
“Do you celebrate Halloween?” he asks as he walks into the kitchen. Derek looks up from the whatever it is he’s mixing up and arches a brow. “I love Halloween, so I started thinking about it when I was upstairs. If you like dressing up, we totally have to do matching couples costumes because I haven’t done that since Scotty met Allison. Well, the three of us have done matching costumes before, but it’s been more like they’re the couple and I’m the third wheel.”
“I haven’t dressed up or anything in years,” Derek says. “I normally don’t even hand out candy because we live so far away from civilization. One year, I did do the candy, though, because I was staying with Laura at her apartment in Portland. I’m not opposed to costumes, I suppose.”
“Good. There’s always an awesome Halloween costume party at Luna the Saturday before that I like to attend.” Stiles grins. “We can totally dress up as Batman and Superman, too. Maybe do some fun roleplay after?”
“I think I’d make a better Batman in that case.” Derek snorts as he grabs a tomato and starts cutting it with those fast knife strokes that are comparable to some of those peeps on Top Chef. “You can be Clark for the night.”
“Nope.” Stiles shakes his head. “I’m Bruce. I’m Batman!” He does a decent Bale imitation. “You can be the Man of Steel.”
“Or we could just find you a dress and glass slipper so you could be Cinderella.” Derek smirks. “They have those naughty Cinderella costumes for adults. You’ve got the legs for it.”
“I could be a dirty Red Riding Hood if we’re going for that kind of thing.” Stiles leers. “Then you could be the Big Bad Wolf. Oh my. What big arms you have! Oh my. What a big dick you have!”
“Oh my. How corny can you be?” Derek is laughing, though, so Stiles feels pretty good. “No big bad wolf. I’d rather deal with Superman than that.”
“We can always do something else.” Stiles grins. “We’ve got a little over a month to decide. I just wanted to toss it out there so we can start brainstorming.” He walks over to the island and grabs the lettuce, taking the plastic off of it so he can pull it apart for the salad. “There are all kinds of sexist costumes out there for women, you know? Naughty nurses and sexy princesses. It makes me worry about the kind of world Tori’s growing up in when women can’t even easily find costumes that aren’t sexy.”
“Laura and Cora are always bitching about that,” Derek agrees. “Laura’s sent me links to things that are completely ridiculous. Not only are they overly sexy, but Halloween is always cold, and there’s rarely enough material to cover them up unless they go for one of the really frumpy costumes. It’s like the choices seem to only be frumpy or sex.”
“Yep. I know Tori will be okay because Allison will just have costumes made for her when she gets a little older and the options jump from normal to hussy.” Stiles watches Derek’s arms as he cuts the tomatoes, admiring the flex of his muscles. “You know, you could always do the classic French maid thing. Sexy legs, great arms. You can definitely be my pretty little whore.” He waggles his eyebrows.
Derek tenses, his hand jerking suddenly. The knife slices through his finger, blood quickly gathering at the cut. He looks up at Stiles with wide eyes, the stricken look on his face making Stiles straighten up immediately and stop smiling. Stiles gets the hand towel and reaches across the island to cover the finger. “I, uh, I need to…” Derek is stammering, shaking his head as he grabs the towel from Stiles and hurries out of the kitchen.
What the fuck? Stiles grabs a couple of paper towels and cleans up the blood that spilled on the island, throwing the tomato and dirty paper towels into the trash before tossing the knife into the sink to be washed. Then he goes after Derek, heading upstairs two at a time. “Babe, are you okay?”
“It’s already healed,” Derek calls out from behind the closed bathroom door. Stiles can hear the water running in the sink. “Go back downstairs, Stiles. I’ll be down soon.”
“I didn’t ask if it was healed. I asked if you’re okay,” Stiles points out, trying the door only to find it locked. They never lock the door. It isn’t uncommon at all for one of them to wander in while the other’s in the shower to take a piss or brush their teeth, so the door isn’t ever really locked. “What happened, Derek?”
“Nothing. My hand slipped. I cut myself.” Derek’s tone is curt, almost snappy.
“That wasn’t nothing.” Stiles sighs and leans his head against the door. “Are you okay?”
“Damn it, Stiles. I told you to go downstairs,” Derek snarls from behind the closed door. “Just leave me the fuck alone! I don’t want to talk, and I don’t need you pestering me right now. Go away!”
Stiles tries to tell himself that Derek’s just lashing out and doesn’t actually mean he wants Stiles to leave him alone, but his fingers are curling into his palms as he glares at the closed door. He turns to kick the air, hard, because he knows something obviously upset Derek, and he feels like he should be trying to help. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone.”
Instead of leaving the room, though, Stiles just leans against the wall opposite the bathroom door. He slides down until he’s sitting on the floor, bringing his legs up so he can wrap his arms around them and rest his chin on his knees. He can still hear the water running, but there’s no noise or movement at all. Then he hears what sounds like retching, and he rubs his temples when he realizes Derek is probably throwing up. He hears the flush of the toilet, then silence again. No movement at all. Not for a while. Then, the water turns off, and he can hear Derek moving around. Finally, the door opens. Stiles doesn’t get up, not entirely sure how Derek’ll react when he sees he’s still there.
Derek’s eyes are red, like he’s either had a sudden bout of allergies or been crying, and Stiles knows which it had to be. He’s slumped over slightly, like he’s trying to make himself smaller, and he’s ignoring Stiles completely. It hurts, even as Stiles realizes he’s the one who didn’t respect Derek’s request to be left alone. Not really. He could have gone downstairs, but he’d rather risk Derek being angry with him about not going than let his own anger at getting shut out cause him to act like a dick and just leave Derek to deal with whatever this is alone.
“I’m not going to make you talk,” he whispers, running his fingers through his hair. “I just couldn’t go downstairs without knowing if you were alright. I’m sorry. If I did something, I didn’t mean to.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.” Derek’s voice is so quiet that Stiles can barely hear him. “It’s not your fault, though.” He finally looks at Stiles. “You didn’t mean to, and I know that.”
Stiles still isn’t sure what happened, but he bites his tongue to keep from asking because Derek is obviously upset. It doesn’t matter what caused it. He stands up, running his fingers through his hair and tugging a little too hard. “Okay. I’ll go downstairs and leave you alone then.”
“Don’t go.” Derek sits on the bed and drags his hand over his face. “You don’t have to leave.”
“What do you want me to do, Derek?” Stiles asks. “I’ll do whatever you need from me.”
Derek looks at him. “Just come sit beside me?”
Stiles walks over to sit on the bed. He’s trying to be careful and cautious, not wanting to do anything that makes Derek more upset. They end up lying down, Derek pressed up against his chest, and Stiles arm around his waist. He doesn’t say anything because Derek obviously doesn’t want to talk about whatever happened that caused him to be so unhappy. They stay that way for a little bit, until Derek sits up and forces a smile. It’s definitely not a real smile, so his mind must still be on whatever distressed him so much.
“I’m going to check the lasagna.” Derek makes a face. “I need to finish the salad, too. They’ll be here soon. Damn it.”
“I can finish the salad.” Stiles follows him downstairs to the kitchen, getting a clean knife and cutting tomatoes in a different spot because he did clean up the blood, but he still needs to spray it down with disinfectant. There’s a slight tension in the air that bothers him, mostly because he hates seeing Derek like this. Derek’s usually calm, even when they argue, and he’s vulnerable sometimes but not this broken kind of fragility that makes Stiles’ heart hurt. There’s strength there, too, obviously, but Stiles is still concerned.
“That looks good,” Derek says, his smile a little better this time. He steals a tomato and chews it as he slathers some kind of garlic butter thing he’s made on the bread.
“Not as good as the lasagna.” Stiles bites his lip before he decides to just ask. He wonders if he should call and cancel dinner with Lydia and Jackson, but Derek’s worked so hard on dinner, that he isn’t sure. “Would you like for me to reschedule dinner? I don’t want to force you to deal with Lydia and Jackson if you aren’t in the mood.”
“No, don’t reschedule.” Derek takes his hand and squeezes. “I want to have dinner with your sister and her husband. I’m going to be alright, Stiles. It was just a bad memory that hit me wrong, and I guess I wasn’t ready to handle it suddenly showing up in my mind.”
“Are you sure?” Stiles strokes Derek’s cheek. “Lydia can be a handful on a good day, and Jackson’s probably going to be obnoxious because he’s just that way. It’s not like dinner with Scott and Allison.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I’m not going to fall apart,” Derek points out, his tone slightly annoyed. “I’m pretty damn strong, you know?”
“I know.” Stiles smiles gently. “You’re amazing.”
Derek snorts. “You’re crazy.”
“Yeah, crazy for you,” Stiles says, arching a brow as he tosses something Derek’s said before back at him.
“Thanks,” he whispers, leaning over for a soft kiss, just the barest press of lips against lips. He strokes Stiles’ face. “I lashed out, and you could have lashed back.”
“I’m trying to get better at this whole adulting thing.” He smiles wryly. “I’m still not great at the emotional stuff, but I was more worried about you than pissed off about being told to leave you alone.”
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Derek admits quietly. “Just don’t call me that again, okay? It brought back a really bad memory…rock bottom, you know?”
Stiles thinks back to their conversation before Derek cut his finger and remembers what he’d been teasing about costumes. Obviously, rock bottom must have included someone calling Derek a pretty little whore, which makes him want to find whoever it was and let loose some of his darker magic. He’s not into the name calling thing during sex, the degradation in the really kinky porn tends to make him mute it after a while, but he totally respects folks who get off on it and consent to it. Derek isn’t someone who gets off on that, so Stiles is starting to understand what rock bottom must have been like for him.
“I won’t,” Stiles promises, tugging Derek closer so he can hug him. “I’m sorry my teasing inadvertently caused a bad memory to resurface.”
“Not your fault. It’s just been a stressful week.” Derek nuzzles his neck before kissing their mating mark. “Maybe I’ll stop by to see Scott tomorrow at his practice so I can get puppy therapy. Since my three puppies are still in Oregon.”
“Ha! I knew you called them your puppies.” Stiles huffs a laugh. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. I’ve stopped in before when I was bored and wanted cuddles from four legged furballs.”
“I’ll deny it if you tell them, so don’t bother trying.” Derek raises his head and looks towards the living room. “I hear a car driving up.”
“They’re early.” Stiles makes a face. “Alright. Just remember, Jackson is an obnoxious ass to everyone, so don’t take it personal.”
“I’ll remember that.” Derek chuckles as if Stiles is exaggerating about Jackson, which he totally isn’t, before he turns to check the lasagna. There’s still ten minutes on the timer, but it smells so good that Stiles hopes they can eat soon.
He leaves the kitchen and goes to open the door, smiling as he sees Lydia and Jackson whispering intently by the Porsche. “Are you planning to stay outside all night?”
“Sorry we’re so early, Stiles.” Lydia smiles as she walks up the steps of the porch and kisses his cheek. “Jackson’s been like an excited child going to see Santa Claus for the first time, and he’s forgotten his manners. Fashionably late is preferable to too early.”
“I’ve been stuck in exam hell this week, and I’ve been looking forward to this dinner,” Jackson says, joining them on the porch. He sniffs and grimaces. “You reek of other wolf.”
“Be nice,” Stiles warns, giving Jackson a threatening look. “Derek’s gone to a lot of trouble making dinner for you two.”
“Derek’s gone to a lot of trouble,” Jackson mimics with a huff. “All I keep hearing is how Saint Derek has done this or that.” He leans in and scents Stiles, rubbing his face all over his neck. “Even my own wife was going on and on about his clever brain.”
“Jealous?” Stiles pets Jackson on the head. “You know you’re still everyone’s favorite asshole.”
“Fuck, even our pack house stinks now,” Jackson groans as he enters the house.
“Good evening, Derek. It’s lovely to see you again,” Lydia says, ignoring Jackson’s petulance in order to walk over to where Derek’s standing. “The overgrown child is my husband, Jackson.”
“Nice to see you, Lydia.” Derek is watching Jackson closely. His eyes flash red when Jackson hugs Stiles from behind and rubs his shoulder with his chin. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Jackson. I’m beginning to see just how much truth there is to it.”
“Derek Hale,” Jackson says, smirking as he walks over to shake Derek’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too. So far, I must admit that I’m not overly impressed.”
“If you’re going to insist on measuring your penises, please do let us know so that Stiles and I can leave you two to the posturing.” Lydia is clearly unimpressed, and Jackson actually does step back at the look she gives him.
“There’s not much point in that, Lydia,” Derek says smoothly. “I think we already know who the alpha is.”
“Don’t you start,” Stiles mutters as he walks over to Derek. Derek’s nostrils flare, and he pulls Stiles against him, scenting the area where Jackson’s just been rubbing. Seriously? Stiles can feel the tension in Derek when he’s this close to him, and he wonders if he should have just cancelled tonight without even asking.
“Boys,” Lydia huffs, rolling her eyes. “So, Derek, what are we having for dinner?”
“I made lasagna, and a triple chocolate cake for dessert. You did say you wanted chocolate,” Derek says, giving Lydia a charming smile that makes Jackson’s frown.
“It’s just about done, too, so why we don’t go ahead and sit down?” Stiles suggests before Jackson can make whatever comment he’s planning to make. “I’ll get the wine. And a big glass.”
“I’ll help,” Jackson offers, shooting Derek a smirk before following Stiles. When they get to the kitchen, he scowls at Stiles. “He’s not all that.”
“Yes, he really is,” Stiles says, patting Jackson’s arm. “And a bag of chips.”
“You’re just blinded by lust.” Jackson snorts. “Everyone else is blinded by a pretty face. I see a prettier face every morning, though, so it doesn’t work on me.”
“Okay, you have to stop this.” Stiles knows that Derek can probably hear them, but he speaks quietly anyway so Lydia can’t overhear. “Derek’s not the enemy. I might have been convinced of ulterior motives and secret werewolf political plots before, but I know better now. He’s a really great guy, and I like him. A lot. So can you try to be nice? Please, Jax. I don’t need drama tonight.”
“You’re my brother,” Jackson mutters. “No one else seems to be doing but falling all over the guy, so I feel it’s my duty to protect you and to make sure this guy is worthy. Alpha or not, he probably doesn’t deserve you.”
“I’m the one who probably doesn’t deserve him,” Stiles points out. “We both know what the nightmares can be like, what it’s like to be controlled and to be forced into things against our will while our bodies are used for death and destruction. Do you really think, in the scheme of things, that I’m worthy of anyone, much less someone awesome like Derek?”
“You’re worth a thousand Derek Hales,” Jackson says, staring at Stiles as his eyes flash blue. “I know Lydia’s too good for me, but I don’t need to hear you talking about this guy like he’s better than you because he’s not.”
“Uh, pot kettle?” Stiles snorts. “You can’t tell me that I can’t feel that way in the same breath you’re admitting you feel that way, too. That’s not how it works.”
“Says who?” Jackson smiles smugly. “I’m Jackson Whittemore. I don’t follow the rules. They’re meant for other people.”
Stiles laughs. “Yeah, well, you’d better not break my ‘don’t be an ass to my boyfriend’ rule or I’ll get you back when you least expect it.”
“Boyfriend?” Jackson leans in and rubs his face over Stiles’ neck. “Hmph. He thinks he can just come in here and sweep you off your feet and have everyone fawning over him. Well, I’m here tonight to find out if he’s a good match or not because your judgment is definitely clouded by a pretty smile and kaleidoscope eyes.”
“Kaleidoscope eyes. I like that,” Stiles says, looking up when he hears a low growl to his right. “Hey babe.”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t insist on scenting my mate,” Derek says tightly, walking over to them and staring Jackson down. “Your wife is waiting for that wine. Why don’t you take it out to her?”
“I’m scenting my brother,” Jackson drawls. “That bond was in place before any mystical mating, so it isn’t going away.”
“Jackson, take the wine to Lydia.” Stiles reaches up and grips the back of Derek’s neck. “Hey, look at me. You can’t let him push your buttons. He’s like a little kid. If he realizes something is actually bothering you, he’s going to keep doing it until you snap.”
“I don’t want some guy you fucked in the past rubbing all over you.” Derek’s jaw is tense, and he’s definitely irritated.
“We fucked one time seven years ago, and we were so wasted we don’t even remember it. He’s my pack, my brother-in-law, and he’s extremely protective of his family,” Stiles tells him. “I think he’s scared that he’s going to get replaced in my life by you so I won’t have time for him anymore, and he’s going to be trying to provoke you if I’m right.”
“It takes a lot to provoke me normally,” Derek murmurs, looking at Stiles. “I don’t know why he’s getting to me so damn easily.”
“Because you’ve had a stressful week and what happened earlier has you still feeling sensitive?” Stiles isn’t sure, of course, but it seems a logical guess.
“That was more of a hypothetical type of comment, but thank you for analyzing me.” Derek leans down and kisses him, hard and rough, teeth and tongue like some of their earlier kisses. When he pulls back, he smiles smugly. “Take the salad out. I’ll get the lasagna out of the oven and bring the bread in.”
Stiles licks his lips and grabs the salad bowl. They already set the table, so he doesn’t have to worry about silverware or anything. Lydia looks up when he comes in, her eyebrow arching perfectly. “Well, now I can see what’s been taking so long,” she says. “Just kissed is a good look for you, Stiles.”
“There’s some kind of werewolf thing going on,” Stiles tells her, glancing at Jackson then Derek when he comes in with the garlic bread. “Territorial nonsense. If one of them tries to piss on me, you’re helping me hide the body.”
“Of course. That’s what sisters are for,” she says with a sly smile. “Jackson, no pissing on Stiles. Watersports are a non-negotiable do not want.”
“Gross.” Jackson grimaces even as he walks to the table and sits down right beside Stiles. “We’re about to eat. Can we not discuss piss at the dinner table?”
“There are plenty of seats beside your wife,” Derek points out helpfully as he glares at Jackson.
“Nah, I’m good here. I want to catch up with Stiles. It’s been weeks since he’s had any free time for his family,” Jackson says, scooting his chair even closer to Stiles.
“That’s great. Derek can sit beside me then, and I can find out all about him.” Lydia beams at Derek as she tosses her hair over her shoulder.
“How’s school going, Jackson?” Stiles asks, giving Derek an apologetic shrug but, hell, he’d tried warning him. It’s not his fault that Derek didn’t believe him when he said Jackson could be a jerk, especially if he felt attacked. He isn’t being, but the fact that Stiles is dating someone and there’s a new man in his life is enough to make him feel threatened. It’s not like he’s going to believe that Stiles can still make time for his pack even if he’s in a relationship because there’s no history to prove the claim.
“I’m looking forward to being finished in May.” Jackson takes a bite of the salad. “I’m planning to take the bar this summer. So, Derek, I understand that you’re unemployed right now?”
Derek’s grip on his fork is so tight that Stiles can see the metal bending. “I’m actually independently wealthy, so I don’t have to work. I’m a teacher because I enjoy working with teenagers, not because I need the money. Law school, isn’t it? Following in your daddy’s footsteps then?”
Jackson narrows his eyes before he sniffs. “No, I won’t be practicing the same field as he does. I want to work for the District Attorney’s office.”
“Jackson has interned at the DA’s office and has a solid opportunity once he passes his bar to get a foot in the door there,” Lydia says proudly. “He’ll be putting away the bad guys while I shift my focus to researching the use of virtual autopsy as an alternative to more traditional forms of autopsy or to be used in connection with the autopsy so there can be a more thorough post-mortem exam done.”
“You didn’t tell me you got the grant,” Stiles says, grinning at her. “Do you think it’s actually going to work?”
“I think it will be fascinating to test.” Lydia is obviously excited. “And I found out last week, but I didn’t want to lose focus on trivia night by discussing it. I’m so thrilled that I changed my post-grad focus before enrolling in a program, though. I think forensic pathology coupled with my degrees in math and chemistry will make for a bright future.”
“You’ll be ME for the county by the time you’re thirty-five,” Stiles predicts. “Beacon Hills own version of Kay Scarpetta, helping me solve crimes whenever I get elected Sheriff one day.”
“Hmph. Nice to know you have my future all planned out,” Lydia tells him, her slight lip quirk telling him she’s totally down for crime solving and murder investigation in ten years. Maybe his dad will retire by then.
“Get used to being ignored when these two get together,” Jackson mutters at Derek. “Just wait until they start talking about words you’ve never even heard of and can’t spell to even Google.”
“I think I’ll bring the lasagna out now. It’s had time to cool enough to eat.” Derek gets up, walking by Stiles’ chair and squeezing his shoulder. Stiles keeps talking to Lydia about her research but reaches up to touch Derek’s hand.
As soon as Derek lets go and walks to the kitchen, Jackson is leaning into Stiles, scenting him as he finishes eating his salad. “Jackson, stop,” Lydia hisses, finally annoyed by his behavior enough that she can’t just tolerate it or ignore it.
“What? He doesn’t smell like pack,” Jackson whines. “I mean, he does, but not just like pack anymore.”
“You have to get used to it. Derek? Isn’t going anywhere. Neither is Stiles. You aren’t losing a brother in this situation. You’re gaining one,” Lydia points out, voice still a low murmur. “Hell, you’re gaining sisters, too, because he’s a package deal. They’ll be Stiles’ family, which makes them our family. However, if you keep scenting his mate and acting like a jilted lover instead of a close friend, you might lose it all.”
“If he keeps scenting my mate, he might not be alive to lose anything,” Derek drawls as he walks back into the room carrying the lasagna pan. He puts it on the table and sits down. “My patience is starting to wear thin.”
“Fine.” Jackson scoots his chair over and sulks. “He doesn’t smell right, but whatever. I can still smell pack underneath the stinky Hale smell.”
“Stinky Hale smell?” Stiles snorts. “Oh, Jax. Never change.”
“No, please do,” Derek says with a slight sneer. “The lasagna should be cool enough to eat, but be careful, just in case.”
Stiles waits for Lydia and Jackson to help themselves before he cuts a piece for himself. Lydia is making appreciative noises and even Jackson isn’t griping, so it must be good. The first bite tells him that it’s totally homemade sauce because nothing out of a jar or can has ever tasted that good. “This is delicious, Der.”
“It really is wonderful.” Lydia dabs at the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “Is the sauce homemade?”
“It’s alright,” Jackson says, even as he scarfs it down so fast that his hand’s practically a blur.
“Yes, it’s homemade sauce. Family recipe.” Derek winks at Lydia. “Where I learned the Italian from.”
He’s smiling and winking, but Stiles isn’t stupid. He can see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way he clenches his jaw whenever Jackson sways too close, the way his nostrils flare whenever Stiles speaks to Jackson. Derek’s good at playing it off, but Stiles is starting to recognize when it’s sincere and when it’s totally faking to keep things calm and laidback. The conversation is flowing, fortunately, but his mind is a little distracted by the realization that this isn’t the first time Derek’s faked a more passive nature just to keep the peace. Damn, Stiles really does suck when it comes to the whole selfish thing because he hasn’t even noticed that the man he’s starting to fall for has successfully managed to curb some of his instincts in order to interact with his pack and keep things friendly.
Dessert proves to be a total hit. Even Jackson is complimentary, albeit reluctantly, and Stiles has to resist getting up and doing a happy dance when Derek and Jackson actually managed to have an entire conversation about basketball without making more than a half dozen snide comments about each other. He and Lydia have several eyebrow and weird mouth movement silent conversations during that one, and they both conclude it’s a positive step, at least. Jackson and Derek are definitely not going to be BFFs and exchange friendship bracelets, but they might at least be able to hang out without drawing blood in the future.
They finally leave a little after ten. The bottle of wine is nearly gone, but Jackson’s driving, so it’s fine. The wine doesn’t affect him. Not so much the case for Lydia. She’s flushed and tipsy when she kisses Derek’s cheek and then whispers to Stiles that he’s got a good man before she takes half the cake with her. Jackson deliberately scents Stiles again before giving Derek a smirk and rushing off after Lydia, just in case the killing threat had been serious.
Stiles shuts the door and sighs. “I’m glad no one died, but I’m also relieved that that’s over,” he admits, locking the door then turning towards Derek. Derek who is no longer smiling a charming tolerant smile. No, this Derek is breathing hard and staring at Stiles like he’s prey. “Everything okay?”
“Run,” Derek growls, eyes flashing red.
“Seriously? I have to work tomorrow, and I’m pretty drained tonight.” Stiles gulps when Derek growls low in his throat, and he takes off running. He knows the layout of the house better, so he’s able to make a couple of different rounds through the downstairs before he heads upstairs. He’s halfway up the stairs when Derek catches him. “Oomph!”
Fuck. The stairs don’t feel that great when you’ve got solid muscle pushing you against them. Derek is grinding against his ass, rubbing his face on his neck, and Stiles’ knees are on the stairs. This is so not going to be work well. “Mine,” Derek breathes against his ear before he licks Stiles’ face.
“Can we move this somewhere more comfortable?” Stiles asks, earning himself another growl as, fuck, that’s claws he’s feeling against his belly as his shirt is pulled up. Okay. Not moving then.
“Mine!” Derek nuzzles his neck, rubbing against his ass as he licks and sucks Stiles’ neck.
“Yes, yours,” Stiles agrees, knowing he’d be enjoying this a lot more if it wasn’t happening on the staircase. He waits for his chance and then makes a run for it, managing to at least reach the upstairs landing before Derek has him pinned to the floor. Much better.
Derek grips his hair and pulls his head up, meeting his gaze evenly. “Mine,” he says firmly before he kisses him. It’s a claiming kiss. No other word for it. Derek takes possession of him, licking and sucking, leaving Stiles gasping when he finally pulls back. After that, it happens so fast. Stiles’ jeans are unfastened and pulled down, his underwear actually ripped like he’s suddenly wandered into some romance novel only a billion times sexier (not the ripping underwear, that actually stings when the elastic snaps against his skin, but Derek? Derek is a billion times sexier than anything), and then Derek’s hard dick is rubbing between his cheeks as Derek grips Stiles’ dick and starts jerking it.
Stiles pushes his ass back, not at all ready for penetration but rather enjoying the weird sensation of bare dick rubbing against his cheeks. He doesn’t think it can feel that good for Derek, not without lube or anything, but the noises Derek is making sound like he’s enjoying it. Derek is sucking marks all over his shoulders and neck, totally marking him up, and it’s so hot, even if Stiles is worried he might have to wear a turtle neck under his uniform for the next few days. He doesn’t think about it too long because it becomes too difficult to think about anything except the feel of Derek’s hand gripping his dick and how turned on he is with Derek pinning him like this, even if he’d totally deny getting off on the whole animal side of Derek making an appearance.
When Derek starts jerking him harder, Stiles whines low in his throat because, fuck, it feels so good. He is rocking back and forth between Derek’s hand and his dick, and Derek’s still scenting him, marking him, and it’s just too much. He comes with a grunt, spilling into the floor and Derek’s fingers. Derek keeps milking him until he’s spent, until his dick is almost too sensitive, and then Derek straightens up. Stiles looks up his shoulder and watches Derek jerk off, staring right at him as he fucks his fist. When he comes, he aims his dick at Stiles’ ass, like he’s seriously staking his claim on Stiles’ ass. If Stiles weren’t so turned on, he’d be totally pissed off at the claiming mine possessive thing. As it is, he’s finding he doesn’t mind it that much at all.
“Mine.” Derek looks at him, staring into his eyes, and Stiles nods.
“Yes, I’m yours, you overgrown puppy,” he mutters, looking at his ass and then back at Derek. “Was that really necessary?”
“Yes.” Derek leans down to kiss him, a thorough kiss that leaves Stiles breathless. When he pulls back, he looks at Stiles’ ass and smiles smugly. “Don’t wipe that off. I want to smell it on you.”
“That’s pretty gross,” Stiles points out once he can catch his breath. They get up, and he kicks off his jeans because what’s the point? He’s got come dripping down his ass that his territorial boyfriend doesn’t want him to wipe off yet anyway.
“You were right,” Derek murmurs as they go back downstairs to clean up from dinner. “Jackson really is an ass.”
“I tried warning you.” Stiles stops Derek when they’re at the table. “Thank you for not letting him provoke you. At least, not during dinner. I know it wasn’t easy, and I know you were uncomfortable tonight.”
“I like Lydia. Jackson is tolerable when he remembers you’re mine,” Derek grumbles. “I’m sorry you could tell it was getting to me. Normally, I have better control than this.”
“Normally, you don’t have the stress you’ve had today. But, also, you need to be honest with me, alright?” Stiles wants him to actually listen to this, so he grips his chin and forces him to look at him. “If my pack is too much, if I do something that really bothers you or any of my pack does, you need to let me know. It isn’t fair on you to force you to be the only one compromising. You had to move here earlier than planned, had to leave your pack behind, have to put up with me and my neuroses, and you shouldn’t also have to put up with suppressing your wolfyness all the time, too. Remember our promise? Open and honest communication. I’m trying, but you can’t pretend everything’s fine just to avoid upsetting me.”
Derek ducks his head. “I don’t want to scare you off,” he admits softly. “I don’t want to force you to feel like you have to choose between me or your pack. You can have both. It’s just…difficult…to adjust to having another pack around so much and to not be treated as an alpha.”
“And, see, that’s what I need to know,” Stiles says. “I want to share your burdens, too, you know? You’ve got enough of my baggage to deal with, so I want to do the same for you. It’s an equal partnership, this relationship, and you need to start making me step up or else I’ll end up taking advantage without even realizing it.”
“I am honest with you.” Derek shrugs. “I just haven’t brought up a few things that I didn’t feel were necessary to discuss because I felt I should figure out to get through them. I’ll try to be more open about those things, alright?”
“Yes.” Stiles leans up to kiss him. “I’m sorry it’s been such a sucky day.”
“It hasn’t been all bad,” Derek reminds him. “Aside from boredom and bad memory triggers and Jackson being a douche, it’s been a good day.”
“Oh, only aside from those things,” Stiles mutters. “Well, this weekend, we’ll drive up to the coast and spend a couple of days just us, with no interruptions and probably too much talking.”
“There’s no such thing as too much talking. I love learning more about you and your life before you met me.” Derek smiles then, and it’s the first real smile Stiles has seen since the cutting incident hours ago.
“I don’t know about that, but I guess we’ll see if you still think so after spending hours in the car with me.” Stiles moves his thumb across Derek’s bottom lip. “I have to be up for work in about six hours, so we’d better get this cleaned up so we can go to bed.”
“If you want to go on up, I can clean.” Derek looks at him then snorts. “Never mind. I should have known not to make that offer.”
“No, it’s a nice offer.” Stiles smiles. “But the sooner we get done, the sooner we can get in bed. And I definitely think we need cuddles tonight.”