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Believing in Yesterday

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Derek sped past another sign with flashing numbers saying 85 mph. He didn't need a sign to tell him he was speeding; he knew perfectly well that he was way above the speed limit, but that didn't stop him from pressing the accelerator just a tad bit more, forcing the lever to reach 90. His mother was going to kill him, but hey, what did she expect from a 16 year old?



He cranked up the music as he entered the small town that was Beacon Hills, a place for people who had been idiots thinking there was opportunities here or for people who were too much of idiots to know how to function outside of Beacon Hills. It wasn't that it was bad, but honestly when a fourth of the population were supernatural, there had to be a name for the special kind of idiocy the humans of Beacon Hills possessed.



With a swift turn of the steering wheel he curved around a corner, ignoring the red light. It was then that he heard it. The soft sniffling of a child who was in pain. His wolf immediately rose to the surface, whining and desperately trying to go to the source of the crying. He slammed the breaks as he felt himself losing control, just barely managed to skid into a parking spot before his wolf came out completely. His clothes tore and in seconds he was out of the car, running towards the crying.



He ran faster than he ever had before and it would have felt amazing had it not been for the fact that someone important to him (even though he couldn't tell who it was) was hurt and in danger. His instinctive reaction to nurture and guard what was his rose, and it only took him a minute or two to locate the crying person.



It was a small boy with brown hair that curled around ears and bright eyes that were rimmed with tears. He was sitting on the ground with a skewed bicycle beside him, clutching his knee. It was scraped and there was blood slowly sliding down his leg. Derek was by his side in seconds, nosing at the wound with a whine. He felt an irrational anger towards the ground for hurting what was his. The boy hiccuped with fear as he tried to scoot back from the wolf, but he was stopped by a paw.



“Please don't eat me.” The boy whimpered, his hands shaking as he his his face. “My dad's the sheriff and he has a gun and he won't like you if you eat me. Please I don't want to die. I'm too small for you to eat! If you want someone to eat, you should eat Scott. He's always eating everything even though his mom is a doctor.”



Derek huffed at the boy who was still trying to escape from him with aborted attempts to move his legs away. The wolf licked the knee using his pain leeching power to heal the wound; the boy gasped in shock and leaned forward to look at his knee which was now all healed.



“It's gone.” The boy looked up in surprise and at the last minute realized how close his face was to Derek's teeth and made to move back, but the wolf followed him and rubbed his muzzle on the boy's neck, letting their scents mingle together enough for everyone to know that this boy was his.



The boy giggled and hesitantly slid his hands into the wolf's fur which made Derek rumble happily.



“You're not that scary.” the boy smiled, petting the wolf who melted under his ministrations. Derek jumped gently on the boy, forcing him onto his back so that he could lay on him, with his head resting on the boy's chest. The boy's heart pounded and he smelled of fear for a second and Derek's wolf whined at the idea of his mate being scared of him. He nuzzled the side of the boy's face, seeking to calm down the boy.



“You know, you act more like a cat.” the boy laughed and Derek fell in love with the sound of his soft, breathy laughter and the way he could feel the boy's chest rise and fall against him. This was his perfect match. This was his. “My name is Genim- but my friends call me Stiles.”



Derek's ears flickered to the boy to show that he was listening but he remained where he was, feeling a sense of satisfaction and contentment curl in him. Stiles. What a weird name. He didn't care though. His mate was perfect. Stiles' scent was sweet with happiness and the boy was running his hands through his fur curiously. His mate was safe and happy. His little Stiles.



“I thought all wolves were really bad and ate people.” Stiles murmured the confession as he hugged the wolf. Derek rumbled happily. “Are you a superwolf? You're nice and you can heal people.” He continued talking, changing subject so much and so randomly that Derek settled to just listening to the boy talk.



Derek's eyes were closed in peace and he was about doze off with his mate running his hands through his fur and talking nonstop, when he heard the sound of police sirens and he belatedly remembered what Stiles had told him. My dad's the sheriff. The wolf sat up quickly as he heard them coming closer.



Stiles frowned in confusion and reached for the wolf, and Derek had to control himself to not just shoot forward into the human's arms to satisfy him. His wolf urged him to let the little boy wrap his arms around him again or to pick him up and take him home with him, but with the increasing volume of the sirens, his human mind began taking control of the wheel. He had to go right now unless he wanted to either A) reveal he was a werewolf or B) get shot by the sheriff. Neither of which he was sure Stiles would think as good qualities in a mate. He could come back as a human though. That made his wolf back off and he turned around ready to run back to his car when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his middle.



He turned in surprise at Stiles who seemed like he was ready to cry.



“Don't leave me. Please. My mom left me and she didn't come back.”



Derek whined and licked a long stripe on Stiles' cheek, silently promising that he would come back then dashed off, smelling the bitter scent of sadness coming off of his mate.



He made it to his car and he jumped in, shifting back into human form. He changed quickly into the spare clothes he had in the back and got out, praying to whatever god was out there that Stiles would still be there.



He speed walked to where he had left Stiles and found him crying, hugging his legs with his arms. The scent of loneliness wafted from Stiles and Derek knelt down next to the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder. The boy jumped, his head shooting up to meet Derek's eyes. There was both disappointment at first in his eyes before it shifted to awe.



“Are you okay?” Derek asked, with a slight frown. Stiles opened and closed his mouth, imitating a fish before he managed to say something.



“Yeah!” Stiles squeaked, blushing. “I just fell off my bike! Silly me. But you know how it is with us kids. Falling and stuff- but you know- whatever. I'm cool now, cuz I can totally ride a bike! I bet you can too. I mean you're all strong and stuff with your muscles. No I bet you ride a motorcycle or something cool.”



Derek let out a laugh and ducked his head.



“I'm afraid I don't ride bikes or motorcycles, just a Camaro.” He smiled and stood up, offering his hand to the young boy who took it. He yanked Stiles up to his feet, and the boy smiled up at him.



“Dude, that's awesome! Those are like super expensive, and hey- Derek Hale rides a Camaro! My dad hates him. Are you Derek Hale?” Stiles tilted his head up, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand, and the view made Derek's mouth water. The expanse of smooth, pale skin, all in display for him. If Stiles leaned his head to this side just a little, it would like he's submitting to him, and just the thought of it made his knees want to tremble.



“Hey, come back to Earth. Are you Derek Hale?” Stiles waved a hand in front of his face. The older boy blinked in surprise, coming back to himself.



“I am.” Derek nodded.



“You should probably stop breaking the rules.” Stiles gave him a crooked smile, and Derek felt his wolf almost purr with contentment. He casually ruffled Stiles' hair before walking past him.



“I'll think about it, kid.” Derek said as he picked up the bike that was almost bent in half. “You're going to need a new bike. I think I have a spare one back home.” He turned to Stiles who looked ecstatic.



“That would be awesome!” Stiles practically bounces happily. Derek felt a small smile grace his lips as he looked down into Stiles' almost golden eyes. The moment was broken by a gruff voice.



“What are you doing with my son?”



Both of their head whipped around to find the sheriff heading towards them with a suspicious glare directed to Derek. His hand reached for his taser.



“Dad, he's totally cool! Don't tase him! He was helping me after I had fallen!” Stiles got in front of Derek and he felt a sense of warmth spread throughout him at the thought of his mate standing up for him.



“Well, I have the right to get worried when my nine year old son is found with a teenage delinquent.” Sheriff Stilinski replied gruffly to his son.



Derek froze. Nine?! His mate was nine years old. Of course he was.



“He promised me he'd stop breaking the rules.” Stiles chirped happily.



Derek was about to protest but then his mate turned at him with a pout and he sighed and nodded.



“I promised, I guess.”



“Well, make sure you keep it. Stiles, we're going home.” the sheriff grabbed the mangled bike from Derek's hands and clapped the teenager on the shoulder. “Thanks for helping Stiles.” He looked as awkward as Derek felt.



“No problem.” Derek replied. He took a step back. “Well, I'll see you around.”



“I hope not.” the sheriff replied smoothly before turning around and walking towards the police car. Derek scowled. “Come on, Stiles.”



“Thanks, Derek!” Stiles smiled widely and shot himself at Derek with a tight hug. “You'll come by my house with the bike, right?”



“If your dad lets me.” Derek loosely wrapped his arms around Stiles, breathing his scent one last time. It smelled so welcoming and his. “And if not, I'll just take it to the police station.”



Stiles smiled then ran off to his dad's car with a scent of joy trailing after him.



 

Chapter Text

          “He's how old?!”

      

          Talia Hale's voice was heard from all corners of the houses and everybody turned an interested ear to the study where Derek was standing meekly in front of his mother. After he had driven home, he immediately went to his mom and told her of how he found his mate sitting on the pavement with a hurt knee.

      

          “Nine.” He replied uncomfortably.

      

          Talia groaned and rubbed her forehead with her hands.

      

          “Of course, you would be the one to have an early bloomer. I was prepared for Laura or even Cora but I hadn't planned on you finding your mate already.” Talia sighed dramatically then turned to her son with a small smile. “So tell me, what's he like?”

      

          “He's loyal and curious. He talks at ninety miles an hour but he's perfect. He's brave and I couldn't have asked for anyone better.” Derek blushed as he looked down at his feet. Talia squealed and hugged her son tight.

      

          “Oh he sounds wonderful. Who is he? You haven't told me a name yet.”

      

          “His name is Genim but everyone calls him Stiles.” Derek said. “He's the sheriff's son.”

      

          “Sounds like the things of fan fiction.” Peter snorted as he waltzed into the study without waiting for an invitation. “You sweep the sheriff's underage son off his feet after years of being a troublemaker.”

      

          “Oh come on, Peter, you can't talk.” Talia smirked. “Especially since you met yours when he was just a few years older than Stiles. How old was Chris? Twelve? Thirteen?

      

          “At least mine was in the double digits.”

      

          “Oh be quiet.” Talia stuck her tongue out at her older brother and he returned the sentiment. They smiled at each other for a second before turning to the teenager who looked like he had zoned out while they were teasing each other.

      

          “So, Derek, you said you promised him a bike right?” Peter crossed his arms and leaned against Talia's desk. Derek snapped back into the present and nodded at his uncle. He may have led Stiles to assume that his bike was in better condition than it actually was. His hadn't been used in years. It was probably rusty and full of spider webs, and from what he remembered, the chain had since gone missing. His uncle seemed to be thinking the same thing.

      

          “Well, I guess it's time to see if you remember anything your father taught you from your second grade lesson on how to take care and fix a bike, hm?” Peter smirked and Derek scowled at him.

      

          “Well, it seems like you have your afternoon booked up.” Talia stood to her feet. “Seeing as I do too, you'll have to tell me how the bike ends up. Oh, and Derek,” the teenager in question tilted his head towards her, “You have enough common sense to not do anything stupid around Stiles, right? No telling him you're a werewolf. No changing around him. No inappropriate behavior until he's of age, etc, etc. I trust you to be responsible and-”

      

          “Remember to use a condom.” Peter cut in with a snort and Talia hit him upside the head with a scowl similar to her son's. Derek smiled at them and went out of the room.

      

          “Yeah, mom. Bye!” He said and headed down to the garage where he hoped his bike still was. Peter caught up to him and threw an arm around Derek's shoulder.

      

          “Hey, Derek, what do you say we make a deal?” Derek's eyes narrowed, knowing how manipulative and at times unfair his uncle could be. Peter laughed at seeing the expression on his face.

      

          “Don't worry. It's nothing bad. Well, nothing too bad.” Peter wrapped an arm around Derek’s shoulders giving him a wide grin. “ Just a little prank. He’ll never see it coming.”

 


 

 

          At first, Derek had been a little hesitant on taking the deal with Peter, but then he remembered the warm embrace of Stiles' hug and he decided that whatever it was, he'd rather deal with the consequences later than deny himself another day without Stiles' presence. Even if his father wanted to put him in handcuffs.

 

          It took them three days to get the bike in working condition, and he might've had to sneak out of Walmart with the bike tires since the Sheriff had been patrolling the area, but it was no stress. He had to spray paint the color again since it had started to fade, and sure, the chains also had to be replaced, but that's what happens when a bike is left waiting in the dust of a garage for... three years? Or had it been six? It didn't matter; it looked brand new.

 

          On his way out, Peter had reminded him that he still had to fulfill his end of the bargain, and Derek had absentmindedly agreed, waving his hand at his uncle as he grabbed the bike with one hand. Stiles would totally love this.

 

          He jogged the 15 minutes to the police station, walking the last minute to help calm down his breath and let him cool down. As he approached the station, at least 4 police officers looked at him with suspicious eyes and he just gave them a tight smile, avoiding looking into any of their eyes. Eyes on the prize. He opened the door, going straight to the receptionist who looked surprise to see him there without a policeman at his side.

 

          She opened her mouth but was interrupted by a high pitched squeal and a surprisingly strong grip around his waist. He looked down to see Stiles' wide grin and returned the smile, albeit a little smaller than last time considering that there were at least five police that were looking at him with their hands on their holsters.

 

 

          "Derek! You brought the bike like you promised." He stepped back, basically bouncing with glee as he looked at the bike that was in Derek's hand. He put it down gently and handed it over to Stiles whose mouth was open in awe. "Why did it take you so long? Did you buy this bike? Derek, how much did this bike cost you? It must've cost you a billion bucks." His mouth kept running off without him, and Derek leaned against the counter, his wolf practically howling in happiness at seeing his mate accept his gift and love it.

 

          "I didn't buy it. I swear it used to be mine." Derek chuckled as he crouched down on the other side of the bike. Stiles' eye met his and the younger boy blushed, looking away. It made Derek feel warm inside.

 

          "Derek Hale."

 

          The teenager shot up to his feet and turned around to face the Sheriff who was crossing his arms with a raised eyebrow. The Deputy Sheriff Jordan Parrish was beside him with an amused look on his face.

 

          "Sir, I was just coming to bring the bike I had promised." He stuttered, not knowing what to do with his hands. His wolf was laughing at how he was acting around Stiles' father, and he wished that he could choke it because that was definitely not what he needed right now. "I, uh, I'll be heading back home now."

 

          A hand grabbed onto his shoulder and Sheriff Stilinski gave him a smile that reminded him a little too much of Peter's.

 

          "Actually, I noticed that you were walking. Why don't I give you a ride home?"

 

          "Aw, come on, Dad." Stiles protested, one hand still on the bike. "Can't he hang out a little bit? It's not like you guys are doing anything anyway. He could come outside and teach me how to ride this bike."       

 

          "Stiles, you know how to ride a bike." His dad crossed his arms, and the kid groaned.

 

          "Yeah, but not this one." He replied petulantly. "I bet there's all these little tricks to make sure this bike runs in top condition. Isn't that right, Derek?" He turned to the teenager with his hands on his hips and Derek could barely keep down the laughter at seeing such a bossy little kid, but he nodded solemnly to the Sheriff who didn't miss any of the emotions that had crossed his face.

 

          "My shift ends in 30 minutes. You have until then, and then we're all going home." He gave a pointed look to Stiles who threw his fist in the air triumphantly and grabbed Derek's hand, pulling him outside, his bike teetering dangerously at the hyperactive kid's grip.

 

          "Dude, this is so cool. I thought that you weren't going to come." He said honestly as he led them past the parking lot and across the street that was looked a concrete basketball court. "I mean, I knew you said that you were going to bring it, but then I thought that you were like super busy with high school and homework and stuff." He waved his hand embarrassed as he ranted.

 

          "I did fix it up a little bit." Derek confessed, scratching his cheek.

 

          "Ha, I knew it!" Stiles pointed at him. The werewolf shrugged in response and the younger boy pursed his lips as he looked at him with a thoughtful expression. "You know, it is a little strange to see you without that leather jacket you wear all the time. " Derek put a hand to his chest, suddenly feeling naked without it.

 

          "Well, I jogged over here. I wasn't exactly going to wear something that hot and exercise in it." Derek sassed back. The younger boy took it in stride and straddled the bike, going around him in circles.

 

          "Why do you even need to exercise though? You're already like really buff like I swear your muscles have muscles and that's freaky, dude." Stiles waved a hand at Derek's arms. The bike wobbled underneath him as he lost his balance and it only took Derek milliseconds to jump to his side, steadying the bike with one hand on the steering handles and another hand on Stiles' shoulder blades.

 

          "Be careful; you could've hurt yourself." Derek mildly admonished, unaware of the way Stiles was reddening under his touch.  He was also unaware of the way the Sheriff was looking at them pensively through the window of the station.

 

Chapter Text

         Derek had gone back home, more than a little lovesick that day, longing to talk to Stiles again. Just being near his mate made everything seem little better in a way that he couldn’t explain. While Stiles’ father had been suspicious of Derek being close to his son, the only thing he had done was warn Derek that if he hurt his son, he’d have hell to pay. Not that Derek would ever do anything to hurt his little mate.

 

          For some reason, he felt like he needed to actually do things that would make Stiles proud. From the boy’s ramblings, it seemed that Stiles was one of the top people in his class, already reading at a college level, which was incredibly intimidating, considering that he was only nine. Was this why Derek was currently frowning his way through his English Lit homework? Perhaps.

 

          He groaned as he put down the book they had been assigned to read and gently knocked his head against the kitchen table. This was impossible. By the time he finished this book, Stiles would have already graduated from college with a perfect GPA. Oh man, he was going to end up being a free loader and a horrible husband.

 

          A hand snuck its way across his shoulders and he was yanked into someone’s side embrace.

 

          “Derek, oh Romeo you, how did the bike situation go?” Peter gave him a wide grin, ruffling Derek’s carefully styled hair into a disarray. The teenager huffed and frowned at him, readjusting his hair into the cool way he had it. Because Beacon Hills was such a small town, he was worried that Stiles would see him in any of an embarrassing state.

 

          “He loved it.” Derek admitted, looking intently at his page as he doodled in the corner. “His dad seemed a little tense about it but he didn’t seem to be too suspicious or whatever.” He shrugged and Peter chuckled as he jumped up onto the desk, perching himself on the edge, swinging his feet.

 

          "Well, here's the thing, and I don't know if you remember. I know that you teenagers can be rather forgetful, but we made a deal, dear nephew." He drew hand down the side of his face, making Derek swat at his hand in disgust.

 

          "Yeah, but your idea is so stupid. Why can't you do it yourself?" Derek frowned with a slight pout on his face. His uncle sighed dramatically as he spread himself across Derek's desk, throwing all of his stuff onto the floor.

 

 

          "I can't do that!" Peter put a hand to his forehead. "Chris doesn't leave the house for more than an hour after I did the last prank, and that's not enough time to execute my wonderful plan. Also, he would know immediately if I did something if I was doing nothing at home." He jumped back to his feet in one smooth movement, brushing a piece of stray hair that had fallen out of place. Derek rolled his eyes at how dramatic his family could be at times, but he sighed, leaning back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

 

          "Fine. When are we doing it?" Derek turned to Peter with a scowl on his face, crossing his arms. The smile that filled Peter's face was way too evil for someone who had such a charming personality.

 

          "This weekend. Chris'll go to get the groceries and he'll find himself bumping into things. Oh, he's going to be so confused and annoyed." He laughed, rubbing his hands together. Sometimes,  he wondered who was the teenager among the two of them.

 


 

           Later, Derek managed to finish his English lit homework, feeling like he wasn't going to be able to finish high school, much less college. He stretched and looked at what time it was, eyes seeming really dry after so much studying. His wolf was anxious inside of him, pressing insistently for him to go outside and transform, which was strange considering that it wasn't even the full moon. Perhaps seeing his mate had caused his wolf to want to come out.

 

          He yawned and stretched his arms high above him before standing up. Turning off the lamp, Derek shed the shirt that he was wearing and made his way downstairs, surprised at the sight of his dad already cleaning up the table. How long had it taken him to finish his homework?

 

          "Where are you going?" His mom asked from her armchair that had a clear view of the bottom of the staircase. She closed the book she had in her hand.

 

          "I'm just going for a run." He shrugged, and his mom squinted at him.

 

          "You're not going to try and visit the Stilinski boy, right?"

 

          Derek's face flared up.

 

          "No! I would never. That's weird and stalker-y."

 

          Talia lifted her hands with a laugh.

 

          "I was just making sure."

 

          "Aw, leave him alone, Sweet. Lord knows how insistent you pursued me when you found out I was your mate." Her husband laughed as he carried the dirty dishes to the kitchen. "Dare I mention where you were after the Christmas party during my sophomore year?" Talia's face reddened and the similarity between mother and son was too much for Derek's dad who laughed at the two of them.

 

          "Alright, just be home before it gets too dark." Talia turned back to Derek who nodded. "While you're out there, keep an eye out for any of those flowers that your sister has been wanting."

 

          But Derek was already out of the door and jogging to the where the forest started, letting his wolf take over. It felt nice to be able to retreat back into his wolf and run into the forest, letting his senses become more enhanced in this body. For a while, he just ran, skirting between the trees and letting the wind blow between his fur, panting. He definitely did not have his mind on the whether the flower that his sister wanted was out here or not. His wolf was way more entertained with the idea of running through the forest with no real destination in mind. Or so Derek thought.

 

          Unexpectedly, Derek found himself slowing down to a jog as he came into a clearing that was near the edge of where the town began. There weren't usually many people out here, but it seemed like today was different for some reason. There wasn't a person anymore, but there was a familiar scent  a few feet from the edge of the forest where a couple of what looked to be.... beef jerky was laid in a circle. He cautiously approached it, sniffing and turning his head to see if there was anyone nearby, but it didn't seem like there was.

 

          As he got closer to the beef jerky, the scent became stronger and he recognized it immediately. Stiles. If he could frown in his wolf form, he would've, but he just stepped closer to the circle and took one of the beef jerky into his mouth. His wolf seemed overjoyed at the prospect that his mate was providing him food, even if it was this dry human food. Derek made a belated note that this description made it sound like if he was some kind of domesticated pet.

 

          His stomach could only handle two of the sticks, but his wolf emanated such a feeling of contentment that you would've thought he had just been given the most delicious banquet. As he sniffed around the circle, he could scent a trail to a rock that was ahead of him. For a second, Derek thought that maybe the younger boy would be waiting, but he shook the idea from his head.

 

          His tail froze as Derek made his way around the rock to find Stiles snoring against the rock. There was an empty bag of Cheetos and a Coke sitting next to his sleeping figure, with an open book on his lap. The wolf let out a laughing noise which Stiles seemed to have felt because the next second, the younger boy was slowly blinking open with a yawn.

 

          The minute he saw Derek though, Stiles straightened up, excitement saturating the air around him. He threw his arms around the wolf and rubbed his face in the fur at Derek's neck, unknowingly scent-marking him. Not that Derek or his wolf minded at all. The indescribable scent of home and safety was never going to be something that he would be opposed to smelling.

 

          "I knew that you weren't fake." Stiles said happily, taking Derek's face in his hands, his wide light brown eyes glowing. "Dad said it wasn't possible for me to have seen a wolf here, because apparently there aren't any wolves in California, but I looked it up, and there's at least 20 wolves in California because they were escaped or something like that." He ran his hands through Derek's fur, scratching behind his ear. If this had been anyone else, Derek might've bitten their hand already for treating him like some kind of dog, but this was Stiles who, first of all, didn't know any better. Second of all, he was only like 9 who didn't really understand that you weren't supposed to be so friendly with a wolf. Derek made a note to tell him at some point.

 

          He licked the inside of Stiles' elbow, causing him to giggle.

 

          "You sure are a friendly wolf, oh yes you are!" Stiles rubbed his snout, laying a kiss on his snout. Now, Derek was happy that he was in his wolf self that couldn't blush. Instead he lowered himself down to his belly, looking up at Stiles who followed him down, sitting with his legs crossed. "You know, I wasn't sure if you were going to come, they say that wolves travel a lot in packs, but... I haven't really seen any of other wolves besides you."

 

          Derek simply blinked up at Stiles, which the boy took as agreement.

 

          "My dad would totally freak out if he could see me now. He'd be all like 'Stiles, what have I told you about getting friendly with wild animals?'." The younger boy made a pointing gesture, imitating the Sheriff in almost comedic manner. What has your dad told you about being friendly with other animals? Derek thought to himself. His wolf felt a little offended that Stiles seemed to have a history with other wild animals. He made a huffing noise as he went back on to his paws and plopped down his upper body over Stiles' lap, like if he could cover whatever influence those other animals had by covering Stiles.

 

          "Right? And then he's so overprotective of me. Like today I got a new friend and he was acting all mean to him because Derek used to like break a lot of rules and stuff." His head shot up to look at Stiles. "Oh, don't worry. He doesn't do it anymore. He's actually like really nice and cool. I don't know why he wants to be friends with me, but I have never been so excited about having a cool older friend." His eyes shone as he spoke about Derek, and while the teenager felt warmer that that Stiles actually liked him.

 

          A noise suddenly broke through Stiles' rambling and he scrambled towards the spot where he had been sleeping, grabbing a phone that Derek hadn't even noticed. It was one of the flip phones that every kid was always embarrassed of having and Stiles flipped it open, trying to look cool but ending up hitting his cheek. He glared at the wolf in front of him who had looked amused somehow.

 

          "Genim Stilinski, where are you? I come into your room to wish you goodnight to find myself looking at an empty bed and open window!" Derek jerked in sympathy as John's voice came from the little phone.

 

          "Uh, I'm at the back of the house like near the forest? I know you said that there were no wolves in California but the one that helped me yesterday is here." The triumph in his voice was unmistakable and Derek was internally shaking his head, knowing that his father was about to storm out of the house and to the two of them. Derek rose to his feet, ready to bolt for it if the Sheriff decided to bring about his gun with him.

 

          The sound of the backdoor slamming open made the fur on Derek's back raise and he almost jumped at the feel of Stiles' hand on his head, gently stroking his head.

 

          "It's okay. It's just my dad."

 

          Sheriff Stilinski was jogging over to them with the most terrified look on his face, quickly shortening the length between them and snatching Stiles into his arms before stepping away from Derek. It was almost funny to see the Sheriff so scared after seeing him threaten Derek.

 

          "Daaaad, let me go." Stiles crossed his arms, wiggling his way out of his father's grasp. The Sheriff made an aborted attempt at grabbing him but the younger boy effectively ducked it and plastered himself onto Derek who wasn't expecting the extra weight and toppled to the side, giving Stiles an unimpressed look, licking his chin. "See? He's a friendly wolf." He hugged Derek's neck, choking him in his tight grip, but Derek did his best to look non aggressive to the Sheriff, lowering his ears and closing his mouth so that his teeth weren't showing.

 

          "Wolves aren't creatures that can be domesticated, Stiles."

 

          "Ugh, but this isn't a normal wolf. He's like the Superman of wolves, you know? He has the power to like rip me to shreds, but he's a good wolf. Look, you can even pet him." He out out his hand for the Sheriff to put his hand in, and while the older man didn't seem inclined to do so, he let Stiles take his hand and guide it into Derek's fur, which wasn't a nice feeling, but he bore through it.

 

          "Okay, I think that's enough time that we've spent outside. You have school tomorrow and I don't think befriending a wolf will let your tardy be excused."

 

          Stiles glared up at his dad before stroking Derek's fur one last time and tapping Derek's nose which made him sneeze.

 

          "Alright. Goodbye....Clark Kent." He winked at the wolf and Derek wanted to groan at the name he had been given, because really? He was named after Superman? It felt like the universe was laughing at him because of course, his mate would choose a character that was constantly hiding his true identity from the people close to him.

 

          He watched the Stilinskis go back into their house, wagging his tail at his mate turning back around to wave at him. Then he saw that the sun was already setting and he panicked, turning back into the forest and weaving his way back to his house. It was really just his supernatural speed that got him back in time, because the minute he stepped into the house, the sun disappeared over the horizon.

 

          He panted, straightening out his shorts from where he had hastily put them on.

 

          "Ew, Derek, take a shower!" Laura said, holding her nose as she walked past him into the living room with a big bowl of popcorn in her hand. The sound of a movie playing in the living room tipped him off to the fact that his family was apparently watching Wall-E on a school night. He rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out at Laura as he bound up the stairs and to the shower.

 


 

 

         In the Stilinski house, Stiles was taking a notebook out of from the bottom of his sock drawer and putting it on his desk with a sharpie and a pen. He took the Sharpie and in big bold letters wrote: Clark Kent Wolf. Then he opened it up and wrote on the first page: Can wolves understand human language?

Chapter Text

It was way too early when Derek's door was being slammed open and the teenager groaned, turning on to his stomach when the shades on his window open, letting the bright early morning sunlight pour in. This was his worst nightmare alive.

 

"Time to get up, Derek. It's pranking time." Peter cajoled, slapping Derek's head. Said nephew groaned, swatting at the back of his head for Peter's hands. This was not what he had signed up for. "No, no, you promised me that you would help me with this prank, and Chris is about to go shopping for groceries in an hour, which means we have less than an hour to get ready and at my house so come on." His uncle yanked the blankets off of Derek and he curled up into a ball, covering his face with an arm. There was hmphing noise but then Derek yelped at the feel of cold water being sprayed on to his bare chest. He scrambled out of the bed, using his pillow as defense.

 

Peter stood over him with a shit eating grin and a spray bottle in his hand.

 

"That was so rude." Derek snarled, rubbing the grime from his eyes. "And it's so early. I don't wake up earlier than 10 on Saturdays, Peter. Why?" Derek threw his pillow at Peter who sidestepped it. They both ignored the crashing noise of something falling off Derek’s desk.

 

"Cuz we made a deal, and you have to hold up your end of the bargain." Peter twirled in spot and sauntered out of the door. He peeked back into the room. "Also, we leave in fifteen minutes so get up and let's go."

 

"Peter, what are you doing in my house at 7 in the morning?" Talia's voice came from the hallway and she sounded as happy as Derek felt. "I swear if you continue to make so much noise at this ridiculous time, I will castrate you." There was nervous chuckle from Peter as he slowly backed into Derek's room who gave him an equally murderous glare.

 

 "Uh, yeah, I'll wait in the car." He pointed a finger to Derek.

 

 


 

 

 

Chris had raised his eyebrow at seeing Derek and Peter come into the house at 8:30. His nephew in law looked like he was about to fall asleep on his feet and Peter looked entirely too suspicious. Chris squinted as the two of them went into the living room. His husband was up to something and he would be damned if he got fooled again.

 

"So, what is Derek doing over?" He asked, raising his chin at Peter.

 

 "He wanted to work out with me, but I don't think he realized just how early I workout." Peter cast an evil grin in the teenager's direction.

 

"That's probably because you didn't tell him."

 

"You're not wrong." Peter gave him a wide grin, like if he had just given Peter the nicest compliment. There were sometimes when even Chris wondered what kind of man he had married all those years ago. He sighed before shaking his head and grabbing the keys off the counter.

 

"I don't know what the two of you are up to, but I swear if you ruin my car like last time, you will never sleep on the same bed as me, Peter." He raised his eyebrows in a threatening manner at his husband who had the gall to look offended at the insinuation that he was up to something. With a sigh, the ex-hunter walked out of the house and pulled out of the driveway, knowing in the deepest part of his soul that something was going to be different when he got home.

 

Back inside the house, Peter was jumping in glee, pulling Derek up from where he had started to fall asleep on the couch.

 

"It's mission time." His eyes lit up as he looked  around the living room. His nephew had the heaviest bags under his eyes and he was half glaring at Peter, which simply would not do. The older werewolf sighed and pulled Derek to the kitchen sink. "Okay, first I'm going to need you to lean forward. There's something I need you to grab." The teenager followed the instructions blindly, his eyes drooping. Behind him, Peter grabbed the sink hose and blasted it to Derek's head, completely soaking his entire top half. The teenager let out a rather indignified yelp, spinning around with wide angry eyes and his fangs peeking out from his mouth.

 

"Peter," He began with the lowest voice he had used around him. His eyebrows had furrowed into a scowl and he looked about ready to murder Peter.

 

"Good, now that you're with the gig. Let's start." Peter rolled his eyes, wrapping his arm delicately around Derek's shoulders. "The main point of this is we're going to move everything a few inches to the left, and I mean everything. The couches, the TV, beds, desks... everything. Chris will never see this coming."

 

Derek looked at the living room in despair, wondering if there was some way that he could get out of this. He turned to Peter who had that psychopathic look on his face. Rubbing his face wearily, Derek made his way to his first item and began to pull it. This was not going to be a fun hour.

 

 


 

 

It was an hour and a half later when Chris finally came home, carrying an armful of bags as he walked into the house backwards. He leaned to the right, dropping the keys on the table only to swirl his head at the sound of the keys hitting the ground. He frowned but shook his head, kicking the door close with his foot. Leave the keys and put the groceries down.

 

"I'm home, Peter!" Chris yelled as he made his way through the living room. Maybe it was just his paranoia, but Chris felt like there was something different about the living room. Casting a suspicious glare around the room, he couldn't notice anything immediately off about it despite the general sense of something being off. He let out a breath and continued to the kitchen, letting out a grunt as he accidently hip checked himself on the corner of one of the couches. While he didn't exactly glare at the couch, he definitely didn't give it a nice look either. He took a breath as the pain spread through his hip.

 

With slower steps, he made his way into the kitchen, where he once again felt like something was off. Peter had done something! Chris angrily dumped the groceries on the counter and looked around, hands on his hips.

 

"Peter, what did you do to the house?!" Chris yelled, knowing full well that his husband could hear him with his supernatural hearing. One of the few advantages of having a werewolf for a husband was that he could hear you no matter where he was in the house. Silence was all that he got in response and Chris had half a mind to grab the mountain ash to line the bedroom with. If Peter wanted to play games, he'd have to face the consequences of messing with an Argent.

 

He slowly made his way up the stairs to their bedroom where Peter was surely hiding. He paused and frowned at the pictures. They all seemed to be a little off, even if Chris couldn't pinpoint what was wrong with them. They all looked like the originals, but knowing Peter, he had probably photoshopped something into them.

         

"Peter, don't think that I can't divorce you. I will get a divorce so fast and you won't even know what hit you." Chris growled as he turned the corner right into one of the small tables they had put in the hallway. He bit his lip in anger as he stared at the table. Oh, Peter was going to get it.

 

"Aw, you're no fun, Chris." Peter stuck his tongue out at the other man from the door of the bedroom where Derek was looking at them with a lifted eyebrow. The Argent glared at the teenager. knowing that he was an accomplice on whatever Peter had done. Peter took a step out of the room and opened his arms in an open invitation to hug. "Come on, darling. Don't get mad at him. You've got to admit that this is pretty funny." He wiggled his eyebrows.

 

Chris crossed his arms.

 

"What did you to my house, Peter?" Chris scowled, almost looking like a Hale with the trademark frown. "We paid so much for the interior design to make this house exactly as we like it, and you have to go ruin a perfectly good house."

 

The werewolf laughed, throwing his head back, and Chris steeled himself against the obvious attempt to pacify the situation with his looks. Peter closed the distance and drew the other man into his embrace, tucking his chin into the conjecture of his neck and shoulder. Chris sighed and hugged the werewolf back, knowing that he wouldn't get an answer until he reciprocated the act. He moved his head so that his mouth was underneath Chris' ear and whispered, "I moved everything 2 inches to the right."

 

It was only Peter's werewolf supernatural speed that saved him from Chris' angry newspaper. It also might've been the excessive furniture and extra decorations around the house that slowed him down, but Peter would keep that theory with him to the grave for the dignity of his mate.

 

 


 

 

 

After the chaos of his uncles' house was over and his end of the deal fulfilled, Derek went back home and plopped himself to his bed, only to find himself discontented with how uncomfortable his bed felt now that he had gotten up. He made his way to the shower and got ready to do stuff, even if it was 9:30 AM. He shuddered.

 

His other family members slowly shambled down the stairs, stretching and yawning which definitely made Derek slightly jealous. It was for Stiles though, so Derek pushed the annoyance down.

 

Talking about Stiles though, it had been an interesting turn of events when he had found Stiles at the clearing with treats. Part of him was annoyed that Stiles saw him as a pet, but that wasn't anything to bad considering that he was an animal in his mind. His wolf was telling him to go and see if his mate was out today, but he dissuaded it. There was no way any boy, teen or not, would get up this early on a free day.

 

His sister, Laura, hit him in the shoulder as she passed him to the fridge.

 

"What are you daydreaming about, Mr. Cool Guy?" She stuck her tongue out at him and returned the gesture. In response, she chugged the milk straight from the carton which made Derek blanch, shaking his head.

 

"Come on, Laura. That's so gross."

 

"Not as gross as you." She threw the milk back in the fridge and grabbed the eggs and a pan. "Also move if you're not gonna eat anything. Cora is waking up and you know she's gonna need her 'cooking space'." They both rolled their eyes but Derek made his way out of the kitchen, grabbing a banana on his way out.

 

His mother was nursing coffee as she watched the TV, her feet tucked underneath her. His dad was sitting next to her, cuddling her side, smiling as he looked at her with adoring eyes. Derek made a grossed-out face as he passed them to go back to his bedroom. A part of him though paused and wistfully thought about what it would be like to have what his parents had.

 

Would Stiles even want to be with him? He wasn't supernatural and didn't even know about these kinds of things. What if he thought it was creepy or something? Derek felt a gnawing sensation in his heart that made him want to run out all the energy in his body. It was anxious energy that made his knee bounce as he bit at his thumb nervously. Then there was that entire age gap thing that just made things worse. Dropping his head to his desk, Derek looked out the window, out into the forest, wondering how in the world he could ever get his mate to like him.

 

 


 

 

 

A few miles away, in the Stilinski household, the Sheriff was making a few pancakes, stacking them into a messy pile, checking his watch every few seconds. Goddamnit, he was going to be late again, and the babysitter had cancelled on him again. He had to find someone better than her.

 

Stiles was already eating some cereal on the living room couch, intently watching Lazy Town, cheering on for one of the characters. John didn't get the appeal, but then again, his parents hadn't understood the appeal of the cartoons of his age. It was probably just a generational thing.

 

He looked at his son worried. There wasn't anyone that he knew that could take care of Stiles...or rather would be willing to. Melissa, bless her soul, was working, and all of his police friends were either on vacation or also working. They were all over a case that had been plaguing their city line. They had found two bodies mangled beyond recognition near the city line of Beacon Hills and Burnwood. Both police forces were working on it, but that meant that everyone was working, which left no one that was able to babysit his son.

 

Then almost like if it was a vision, the Sheriff paused, letting the pancake on his spatula slide off. The thought was so absurd and yet he didn't have many other options. Looking from his watch to his son, he let out a small grumble before he flipped open his cellphone and called the police station.

 

"Hello, Sheriff Stilinski," Janice said, immediately picking up.

 

"Hey, Janice, could you do me a huge favor?" John asked, placing the cellphone between his ear and shoulder. He flipped the pancake into the trash, shaking his head as he did it. "Yeah, I need Derek Hale's contact number."

 

"Sure thing, Sheriff. You ready?"

 

Janice narrated the number and John scratched it down on the pancake instructions before thanking her and hanging up.

 

He dialed the number, tapping his foot somewhat impatiently. Well, that was incorrect. He was tapping his foot because half of him couldn't believe that he was even considering this.

 

It took a few seconds, but the call patched through.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Hello, this is Sheriff Stilinski. Who am I talking to?" Part of him winced at the official tone he was using.

 

"It's Derek, Sheriff. What did I do wrong this time?" He tried to joke, but it fell rather awkwardly between them despite John's attempt at a chuckle. Both of them cleared their throats and John steeled himself.

 

"Derek, I noticed that you seem to be rather...comfortable with my son."

 

"Y-yeah, he's a cool kid."

 

"Thank you. I actually was wondering if...if you could babysit him for me. I have a shift today, and my usual person cancelled on me last second." John flipped a pancake onto the plate, "I understand if you can't--"

 

"No, I mean, I can totally do it!" The other rushed to say. "I would be happy to do it."

 

John made an affirming noise.

 

"And I can definitely compensate you for your troubles. Especially for such short notice. It means a lot to me. Thank you, Derek. I'll text you my address."

 

"Sure, uh, sir. What time do you need me?"

 

"My shift starts in  30 minutes, so as soon as you can."

 

"I can be over immediately, sir."

 

"Good. Thank you once again."

 

They exchanged farewells and hung up. Stiles had managed to catch the end tail of their conversation and lifted his eyebrows at his dad.

 

"And who was that, dad?" He put his hands on his hips.  "Was that your girlfriend?" There was teasing tilt to his voice and the sheriff rolled his eyes.

 

"No, it's your new babysitter."

 

Stiles curled his lip and took the plate from his dad's hands, grabbing one of the pancakes and biting into it.

 

"I'm not a baby, dad. I don't need a babysitter." Stiles said moodily, jerking the plate of pancakes away from his father, stuffing as much as he could into his mouth. The next words were indecipherable, but John wagered to guess that it was something around the lines of 'I am an adult in training with a permit to do what I want'. He was lucky that he had so much training with language 'Stiles Stuffed Mouth'.

 

"I don't know, Stiles," John managed to snag a pancake from the plate, much to his son's indignation. "You might like this one."

 

"Dad, for the last time, Melissa is cool but she's not exactly cool cool, ya know?" Stiles took one of the cups from the cupboard and put it down on the counter. He turned on his heel to his dad and pointed at him. "And Mrs. Reynolds from down the road isn't cool at all. So don't leave me with her cat Mr. Fluffles." He gave him a pointed look before turning back around and pouring himself a cup of milk. For a second, Sheriff Stilinski felt childish and he waited until Stiles had turned around with his mouth full of milk before saying who it was.

 

 "It's Derek Hale." He said just as Stiles swallowed. The younger boy choked, a spray of milk narrowly missing John and sizzling onto the pan that was still burning,

 

"What?!" Stiles gave him wide eyes. "THE Derek Hale?"

 

John nodded smugly, despite feeling nervous about letting the often-misbehaved boy into his house and in charge of his son.  Stiles mouth fell open into an 'o' before his hands suddenly flew to his hair and down to his clothes, a look of horror on his face.

 

“I’m not wearing my cool clothes, dad.” He turned his eyes desperately up to John. “What time is he coming?”

 

“He should be here in ten minutes.”

 

The sound that came from his son’s mouth shouldn’t have been humanly possible.

Chapter Text

The Sheriff knew that this was a risky plan but there wasn't much else that he could do, and Derek had seemed to be well behaved around Stiles. Shaking his head, John grabbed his hat and secured it to his head, making sure it was aligned properly in the mirror.

 

The doorbell rang, and he heard a distinct thump from upstairs before rapid fire footsteps came down the stairs. Stiles looked about as rushed as his clothes choice suggested. He was wearing a black and white stripes pattern shirt with bright green pants that looked like he was stepping out of one of those alternative fashion magazines. His hair was slightly ruffled from his rush but the proud look on his face silenced the critic inside John. He gave a thumbs up to his son as he opened the front door.

 

It was definitely interesting to see Derek panting, and the Sheriff leaned to the side, seeing the Camaro haphazardly parked in front of his house. He raised an eyebrow at the shoddy parking job and the teenager flushed, looking properly contrite.

 

"Derek."

 

"Sheriff."

 

Ruining the serious mood, Stiles popped up from behind the Sheriff with a wide grin on his face. He looked as equally excited as he did nervous and the Sheriff eyed Derek's reaction.

 

"Hi, Derek!" 

 

The teenager returned the smile, looking nothing like the delinquent John had brought in once for spray painting the school courtyard. Something in him felt reassured that the kid was still terrified of him and actually cared for his son. The other babysitter always had a very... artificial attitude when taking care of Stiles.

 

"I need to head out. I left my number on the refrigerator and other emergency numbers. I left money for pizza if you two want some, but feel free to cook if you want." The Sheriff cleared his throat as he stepped to the side, letting Derek into the house.

 

For once, it wasn't strewn with Stiles different projects across all the available surfaces. It looked like a normal house, clean and presentable. The teenager took a few steps in before turning around to face the Sheriff who was still regarding him with sharp eyes.

 

"I promise to take good care of Stiles, sir." Derek nodded, keeping his hands to his sides so that he wouldn't nervously wring them together. Despite seeing the man freak out over his wolf side, there wasn't any doubt in his mind that Stiles' dad wasn't someone to be reckoned with. "I do have a question though."

         

John nodded. 

 

"Until what time do you want me to stay?"

 

The Sheriff blinked like if he hadn't thought of that, and Stiles let out an annoyed sound.

 

"His shift ends at 3:30 AM." His son said in a very matter of fact tone.

 

"Oh, I can totally stay. It's Sunday tomorrow so you know, no school." Derek gave a polite smile to John and he sighed in relief.

 

"Thank you again. It means a lot to me." John shook his hand before jerking him closer so that Stiles wouldn't hear the next words. "If something happens to my son, I will not hesitate to put you behind bars." The intense look he gave Derek made the teenager swallow and nod his head.

 

Satisfied, the Sheriff headed out to work, leaving the two boys alone in the house.

 

Closing the door gently, Derek sighed in relief at passing the first test: getting the sheriff to trust him with Stiles. The next test would be to make sure that Stiles was actually well taken care of.

 

"So, Derek," the younger boy put his hands behind his back as he looked up at him. "What's the plan?"

 

"What do you mean?"

         

"Well, you know," Stiles' eyes wandered to the TV. "Are we going to do anything or will you just like turn on the TV?" A touch of disappointment colored his voice at the thought, and Derek went down on one knee so that he was eye level with the kid. He put a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes.

 

"No, of course not." He smiled at him with a confidence that he definitely did not feel. Stiles looked at him excitedly. "We're gonna have fun."

 


 

 

Somehow, in a weird turn of events, Derek found himself carefully balancing four different pencil boxes, each covered in a different brand of glue. It had started with Stiles wanting to show him the different experiments he had hidden in his room. Then, it had devolved in finding out exactly how long it would take for each glue to dry.

         

His arms ached from holding the same position for a long period of time, but he held true. Stiles was looking at him from the comfort of his bed, swinging his legs as he read a book. Every once in a while, he would look up to see if any of them had dried.

         

"What are you reading?" Derek asked, feeling a drop of sweat roll down his face. This was not what he had thought he would be doing when he took care of Stiles.

 

"Midnight for Charlie Bones." Stiles said absentmindedly, tilting the book up so that Derek could see the cover. The other nodded, not recognizing it.

 

"Is it any good?"

 

"Oh yeah, this is my third time reading it. It's this whole series about these kids who have like superpowers that's passed down in the family." Stiles bit at his nail as he flipped the page. Derek left him alone, his eyes wandering down to the 'experiments'.  The only one that seemed to be close was the one on his left hand. Sighing, he leaned back on the wall behind him, his eyes going back up to observe his little mate.

 

His wolf was begging him to get closer and to do away with the awful synthetic glue scent that was dominating his sense of smell. After his wolf’s performance yesterday, Derek resolutely ignored his wolf and continued his perusal.

 

Even when he was doing something as calm as reading, Stiles was still bursting with energy, his legs swinging and biting his nails. The outfit was ridiculous, but it somehow weirdly seemed to fit him. The younger boy was completely engrossed in the book, even if he peeked up to look at Derek every few seconds, a blush appearing on his cheeks when they made eye contact.

 

"You know, I can't exactly read a book and I’m the one doing all the work. Talk to me." Derek said, raising his eyebrows at the younger boy. Stiles looked up at him, biting his lip before grabbing his bookmark and closing his book. He slid off the bed and sat down across from Derek, crossing his legs in a mirror image of the teenager. From an outside perspective, the vision they made was hilarious, looking like some kind of Kung Fu master and student, except Derek was balancing pencil boxes and Stiles was wearing a monstrosity of an outfit.

 

Derek tilted his head, jerking his chin for Stiles to talk.

 

"Um, well that day," Stiles waved his hands, and Derek followed them entranced. "that day you saved me, you were actually the second person to see me after I hurt my knee." Derek frowned, and the boy took it as an indicator to lean forward, covering his mouth in a conspiring tone. "A wolf came up to me and healed my boo-- I mean, my scraped knee." He pulled up his pants leg to prove it. A part of him was gratified to see that there had been no scar left from the event.

 

"Are you sure it was a wolf?" Derek asked. Stiles looked affronted at the question.

         

"Of course, it was a wolf! I am pretty smart, you know. I'm like the second smartest person in my class." Stiles puffed his chest proudly. Derek laughed, ducking his head.

 

"Are you now?"

 

"Yep. The only person smarter than me is Lydia and that's because she's like really really smart. But anyway, Clark like licked my knee and healed me." Before Derek could interrupt to convey the appropriate amount of disbelief, Stiles rushed to say, "And he came and visited me yesterday! I left some beef jerky out for him and waited. He came, Derek! Can you believe it? And he wasn't even like mean or wild or anything. I call him Clark because he has to be like some super wolf of something." Stiles' eyes sparkled with enthusiasm and Derek struggled to not feel pleased that his wolf form appealed to him.

 

"That sounds fake." Derek cleared his throat, looking away from Stiles' overjoyed face. He didn't need to be looking to smell the outrage that the younger boy exuded. The other scrambled to his feet and towered over him, glaring at him for a second before turning on his heel and going to his desk that was covered in sticky notes. The older boy followed his movement, wondering what he was gonna do when Stiles turned back around and plopped down next to Derek, almost knocking over one of the pencil boxes.

 

"Here's the proof." Stiles waved the notebook. It was a cheap composition book that had ‘Clark Kent Wolf’ written in childish bold letters across it. Part of him was flattered that Stiles had decided to dedicate an entire notebook to him. The first page was a rather rudimentary sketch of his wolf, and if he was being objective, it looked like a dog with fangs. He nodded seriously though when Stiles turned to look up at him.

 

"Clark's like ten feet tall and has these sharp canines that could like tear through a tree." Stiles explained, his finger tracing down the drawings' face. "And like, he is so nice and is super smart."

 

"How do you know he's smart?" Derek laughed softly, leaning in as Stiles turned to the page to another sketch but this time with notes to the side. One of the comments was "Rideable? Y/N" and it made his wolf pout. His mate was thinking of him like if he were some kind of horse that he could just swing up on and gallop away on. He suddenly realized the silence and turned to look at Stiles, concerned that he had said something wrong.

 

However, the boy just had a pensive look on his face.

 

"I guess it's when he was leaving the first time, right before you came. It was like he understood that I didn't want him to leave." He looked down at the notebook, feeling ridiculous for saying something that sounded so stupid. The teenager was touched though, remembering that Stiles had said he didn't want him to leave like his mother had.  Derek moved his arm to wrap it around Stiles' shoulder and almost cursed when a pencil box fell from his arm and straight onto Stiles' journal.

 

"Dang, I'm sorry." Derek said, quickly putting down the other pencil boxes on the dresser behind them. His eyes flitted from Stiles' surprised face to the glued-on pencil box. "I think it should be fine if we take it off slowly."

 

"It's okay." Stiles gave him a calming smile, but still looking down at the notebook with a concern. They managed to carefully take it off without ripping the page. The only thing that was ruined was the drawing of Clark’s face, blurring it. "Dude, it's like totally okay. That wasn't even a good drawing."

 

Derek sighed in relief, worried that he would get in trouble with the sheriff.

 

Stiles' stomach grumbled, and he blushed as his hand shot up to cover it.

 

"I guess someone's hungry?" Derek chuckled, standing up and offering a hand to the boy.

 

The shrug and nod that he received was all he needed as he yanked Stiles up to his feet. He put the notebook on the dresser next to the other experiments, open on the gluey page so that it would dry out. Turning on his heel to head out of the room, Derek said over his shoulder, "So what are you feeling? Pizza or something homemade?"

 

"Homemade. It's like way healthier." Stiles said, looking down at the hand that Derek had pulled him up with. It felt warm and Stiles' heart was beating louder and harder in his chest. Also, for some reason, the thought of Derek eating something unhealthy made Stiles worry a little, like he did over his dad.

 

What was this feeling?

Chapter Text

Now, Derek didn't consider himself to be stupid or ineptitude by any means, but the Stilinski kitchen was truly something to be feared. He had never seen so many different unrelated things. There was no organization to the pantry and he had found seven different pans in seven different places.

 

The younger Stilinski had sat down on the chair next to the kitchen island, his elbows on the surface as he watched Derek shamble from one side of the kitchen to the other, talking on and on about his friend Scott. Eventually, though, Derek reached a point where he looked down at the spatula and Jell-O packet in his hand and slumped his shoulder, looking at Stiles.

 

The younger boy laughed and jumped off his seat, taking the Jell-O.

 

"What are you planning on making? Jell-O soup?" He giggled, putting the Jell-O back where Derek had grabbed it. He turned on his heel and went back to the kitchen pantry that Derek had only served to make worse. In a matter of seconds, Stiles' hand popped out holding the pizza base, giving a pointed look to Derek who realized that he was supposed to grab it.

 

"Everything else should be in the fridge." Stiles said smugly as he closed the pantry. "All of these ingredients are super healthy; it said so on HealthyEating.gov. My dad always tries to trick me in the store, but I know which ones are good for your heart." He smiled widely at Derek.

 

"I didn't know that you could make pizza healthy." Derek commented drily. The younger boy glared at him.

 

"You can." He said firmly as he took out the rest of the ingredients from the fridge and onto the kitchen island. There wasn't that much space but it was enough to make a pizza. Stiles reached for the oven to preheat it, but the older boy blocked him.

 

"I'll turn on the oven." Derek reached for the controls. "You could get hurt." Stiles rolled his eyes.

 

"Oh yeah, I'll definitely burn myself on the oven that has a door on it." Stiles turned back to the ingredients, opening the bag of cheese and taking a handful, stuffing it in his mouth. Derek chuckled at the sass as he set the temperature to 395 F. "It's not a stove, Derek."

 

"Tell me you did not just eat straight out of the cheese bag." Derek blinked rapidly, as the other boy kept the eye  contact with him. Without even blinking an eye, Stiles reached towards the bag again, and the older boy let out an affronted noise. He snatched the bag away from Stiles' reach, much to the younger boy's disbelief.

 

"Absolutely not." Derek pointed a finger to the younger boy, and Stiles pouted, crossing his arms.

 

"My dad lets me do it."

 

"Yeah, I doubt that." Derek shook his head as he put it on the other side of the counter. "Alright, enough playing around. Let's make that pizza."

 

At first, Stiles had tried to continue to make trouble for Derek, but once Derek threatened to make it a cheeseless pizza, he began to make the pizza.

 

"Who thought up the idea of tomato sauce?" Stiles asked as he spread aforementioned item over the pizza base. Derek was busy taking apart the pepperoni from each other. The one that Stiles had brought out was one of the ones where they were layered over each other. The wolf in Derek was dying to just inhale them all down at once. It was a temptation that he had to fight.

 

"Some Italian, maybe?" Derek shrugged.

 

"But like why? Who thought 'I'm going to smash up this tomato and put it on my pasta?'" Stiles paused what he was doing and looked up at Derek. "Do you think they tried that with our vegetables too? Like they just took a carrot and tried squishing it up and putting it on pizza? Can you imagine how gross that would be? Carrots are literally the worst."

 

"They're really healthy though."

 

"Yes, but at what cost?" Stiles shook his head, and Derek couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. A warm feeling filled him as he took in the scene they made, cooking together and acting like they'd known each other for years. His wolf was basically purring in contentment at how domestic this was. At how this would hopefully  be what their future looked like.

 

They finished the pizza, although Stiles did try to inhale the cheese the minute that Derek had turned around. Now they were just waiting for the pizza to be baked. Stiles had turned on the TV; Avatar the Last Airbender was on Nickelodeon, and even though Derek had never heard of it, Derek was willing to watch about anything to by near Stiles.

 

"I can't believe you've never seen Avatar the Last Airbender!" Stiles held a hand over his heart, aghast. "This is literally the best show in the world!" He dragged Derek to sit on the couch, basically buzzing next to him. Every little movement that he made was acutely registered by Derek whose attention was half split between the bald kid with an arrow on TV and the boy next to him.

 

"I am a little bit older than you are."

 

"You're like WAY older than me." Stiles said absently.

 

Derek winced, suddenly becoming acutely aware of their age difference. What was he doing thinking about their future together? Stiles was still just a kid; he didn't need any of this on him. Maybe he should wait until he was older. How old though?

 

"Hey, dude, pay attention to to the show!" Stiles took his chin and moved it up so that he was looking at the TV. The small fingers felt cold against his skin, and Derek's eyes fluttered shut as the scent rose from Stiles' wrist. Thoughts of the last mating ritual he had seen filled his mind. The two werewolves had bitten each other's wrists as a sign of trust and eternal loyalty and love. As quickly as it had been in front of him, the wrist disappeared and a loud noise came from the TV.

 

"Oh my god," Stiles cheered, jumping up from the couch. "Did you see that? Sokka totally DID THAT! I love Sokka so much." Stiles fell back onto the couch, making victory pumps. A sense of jealousy filled him as he turned to the screen and saw one of the characters that had black and blue facepaint on with a wolf-like headgear on. Interesting.

 

"So you like Sokka?" Derek leaned back against the couch casually. "What do you like about him?"

 

"He's like so strong and even though he doesn't have any bending powers, he's still like really smart, I mean, sometimes." Stiles animatedly said, his hands waving in front of him as he made points. "And look at his outfit! He doesn't always wear it, but when he does, he looks so cool. Nobody else in my class thinks he's cool, but I think he's the best."

 

Before Derek could explore more, the timer for the pizza rang from the kitchen.

 

“I’ll get that.” Derek winked, getting up from the couch. The younger boy nodded, already drawn back into the show.

 

As soon as he was out of sight and in the kitchen, Derek leaned back, putting hand on his heart. It raced underneath his fingers.