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Of the Value of a Proper Hormonal Balance

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"Honey, I'm home!"

Stiles' voice sounded from the hall after the snap click of the door. Two clonks of slipping off shoes and about twenty soft pad pad pads of sock-clad feet over hardwood floor later found the younger man next to the sofa Derek was currently sprawled across.

Ten, fifteen seconds passed by with the only sounds in the room coming from the TV before Stiles burst out, "Dude, Disney channel? Seriously?"

Derek shrugged and didn't bother to turn away from the TV screen to his 'better half', as Stiles liked to refer to himself. "There wasn't anything better on."

Stiles snorted. "Yeah, right."

For about half a minute, they both watched the happenings on-screen in peaceful quiet. Then, Stiles groaned, "Man, 'Pocahontas' is so lame. If Disney, then I vote for 'Pirates of the Caribbean' or even 'The Lion King' or 'Toy Story'."

"Nobody's forcing you to stand there and watch it," Derek snapped back, a little pissed off now thanks to the ache in his back that was probably out to kill him and his boyfriend nagging about his choice in movies while Pocahontas was singing about the colors of the wind.

"Whoa, chill, dude! No dissing of 'Pocahontas'. I get it." Somehow, Stiles managed to sound both apologetic and perplexed with a side of hurt which made Derek feel a little bit guilty.

He might have overreacted. A bit.

In terms of accepting an apology, Derek's subsequent grunt constituted a rather vocal reaction.

Meanwhile, Pocahontas and John Smith were jumping off a cliff while still singing about respecting and living in harmony with nature.

Derek was so engrossed in the scene that he didn't even notice Stiles bending over him until Stiles' face appeared in his line of vision.

"Oh my God, Derek, are you crying?"

"No, I'm not." As stealthy as only werewolves can be, he wiped away the evidence of his emotional outburst on his sleeve while raising his arm to lay his head on it.

Unfortunately, Stiles knew him well and long enough to not mistake the arm motion for exactly what it was. "That is so sweet. My babe is crying manly tears over an animated children's movie."

"I'm not sweet. And don't call me babe," Derek grumbled as menacingly as possible with new tears running down his cheeks, begrudgingly accepting the futility of trying to hide them any longer. "Goddamn pregnancy hormones. They fuck with my head."

"Oh my God! Just imagine the faces of all the people you were in a fight with hearing about this or about last week's hormonal highlight."

Derek scowled. It wasn't his fault that the last piece of the damn chocolate bar had to slip out of the wrapper and on the dirty floor and that he couldn't help stomping on it until it was pulverized and then alternately bemoaning the loss and laughing hysterically about it.

"I can't wait to tell Scott and Allison. Oh, and Erica and Lydia, of course!" Stiles cackled.

In a motion as fluent as feasible with his swollen belly, Derek sat up and turned to his mate with a threatening glare and growled, "If any of this ever gets out to anyone, especially the pack, you alone will have to get up and take care of our pup at night."

Since the wetness on his cheeks and the baby bump most likely counteracted his attempt at intimidation, Derek decided to go the extra mile. "And I'll never eat you out again."

"What?" Stiles squeaked with wide, horrified eyes. "But... you love eating me out. You wouldn't just simply not do it anymore if I told anyone." Pause. "Would you?"

Derek grinned wickedly. "Watch me." He could practically see the debate about whether or not to take the risk going on in Stiles' brain at his dare.

Stiles' decision came quick. "Not a word about this'll ever pass my lips. Promise. My lips are sealed." He mimed zipping and locking his mouth with an invisible key before scurrying to the window, opening it and throwing the imaginary key out.

Derek merely looked on and frowned. "Sometimes I can't believe you're the father of my child."

"Me neither." Stiles grinned over his shoulder as he closed the window and strolled back to the sofa. "Now, scoot over! We're gonna watch the end of 'Pocahontas' and maybe even another Disney movie and then I thought you could demonstrate again why I will never have the pleasure of using this prime pack gossip material." He wagged his eyebrows as he sank down on the couch behind Derek.

Derek rolled his eyes and let himself be pulled against his boyfriend's lean chest. "Stiles?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"Just shut up and watch the damn movie," Derek grumbled, "and stop calling me pet names already."

"Never, darling. Just admit that you love it," Stiles' gleeful voice said right next to his ear.

Of course, Derek admitted to no such thing even though there might be a minimal possibility that Stiles was maybe onto something. After all, denial was a man's best friend in Derek's book. Dogs were for those who didn't have a Stiles.

Choosing to ignore his mate's last words altogether, Derek interlaced their fingers on his rounded belly and settled in for the finale of the film and at least one more Disney classic. Whether with or without a subsequent or simultaneous demonstration was still up in the air.