Chapter Text
“You can handle feeding the heifers for one night Stiles, they said,” Stiles huffs under his breath, lugging two buckets of milk down to the calf barn. “It’ll be fun, they said.” He sets the buckets carefully down and shoulders open the door, hissing at the barn cats that appear out of nowhere to try and steal a drink. Picking the buckets back up he steps into the barn, scowling at the deafening chorus of moos that greets him. Derek and Scott are lucky he loves them so much, because he’s certain he didn’t check no “animal care” boxes on the signup form. Well, not that there had been a sign up form, but you get the point. Stiles isn’t like Derek, who was raised with this shit, and he’s definitely not like Scott, who chose to deal with this nonsense. No, he’s his own man, and cow care is not part of his makeup. And yet, here he is.
In all honesty, he doesn’t mind it all that much. The calves are cute, and they make him laugh when they blow bubbles in their buckets of milk. (It’s not so funny when the little bastards suck up a mouthful of milk and then snort it all over him from their nose, but that’s only happened one time. One, terrible time where he swore he’d never feed calves again). Regardless, he manages to get the little ones fed and the big ones in from their pasture (with only minor swearing too, though that’s probably only because he has Bud with him, and the dog is much more experienced with cow related work than Stiles is).
He’s walking back up towards the big barn when he sees it. His feet slow and his eyes squint, and he can’t really believe what he’s seeing.
There’s a cow on the roof of the barn.
“Are you seeing this?” He asks Bud, who wags his tail in what has to be agreement. Stiles takes a few steps closer, watching as the cows slides down a few feet, before coming to a stop and happily licking at a few shingles. Which cannot be healthy, by the way. He slaps at his pockets, groaning when he remembers he left his phone in the house (after the last milk snorting incident, and the numerous manure pit incidents and that one time some super hot asshole named Derek pushed him in the creek, Stiles has stopped carrying his cell. He can’t afford to replace it every two weeks). Now he’s close enough that he recognizes the cow, her tawny coat and distinctive white heart in the center of her forehead. Her eyes are dark and framed by thick lashes. Apparently it’s a good think to have cow eyes. He’s still not convinced, but whatever. This is Derek’s favorite cow. Her name is Molly and Derek will deny it vehemently, siting that she’s mean and kicks him, but Stiles has caught him petting her and giving her an extra handful of grain dozens of times. Stiles does agree that she’s a pain in the ass though. The heart on her head is misleading, Molly is always the leader of any and all cow trouble at Hale Hollow Farm. She finds all the weak spots in the fence, she broke into the cornfield with a crew of followers and trampled half of it, and last winter she managed to climb onto the hood of Stiles’ jeep and fall asleep in between him starting it to warm up and coming back out to go to work. Of course, Scott was already gone and Derek was in the barn and by the time Stiles managed to get him out Molly was long gone. No one believed him.
“Dude, I wish you could talk,” Stiles whispers to Bud, inching slowly away from Molly and the barn. He doesn’t want to spook her. “You probably have so much dirt on Derek, and you’re my only eye witness for all of these shenanigans.” With one last glance at Molly, Stiles takes off for the house, running faster than he probably ever has in his life. All he has to do, is get in the door, grab his phone off the charger, and get back out before Molly manages to get down. It should be easy.
It’s not easy.
Bud darts across his path every other step, barking that annoying high pitched park he uses to ‘scare birds’ (according to Derek), as if that’s an actual thing. A chicken runs squawking in front of him, and he has to leap over her, which almost results in a catastrophic tumble. He saves himself at the last minute, swerving around the jeep and taking the porch steps in one long step. There’s a large chance he’s pulled several muscles throughout this journey (he’s not as young as he used to be), but he still crows with victory when he throws open the door and sees his phone sitting on the counter. He grabs it and spins, flat out sprinting back towards the barn.
He rounds the corner, camera already opened up, and she’s gone.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he pants, collapsing onto the lush grass. Bud lays down on his chest, tongue hanging right in Stiles’ face, completely unaware of how gross every single part of him is. “Get off.” Stiles pushes him away, but pulls him back up against his side anyway, patting at his suspiciously crusted fur. It’s probably time for another bath, but Derek was also right about a) it being not fun at all and b) Bud going and rolling in manure immediately after without fail.
A shadow falls across Stiles’ eyes, and he sighs. Derek and Scott must be back from the feed store. “You’re never going to believe this,” he grumbles, squinting up at the person standing over him.
Except...
That’s definitely not a person. Molly the cow is looking at him curiously, sniffing at his jeans. She sniffs his face, and Stiles reaches up the way he’s seen Derek do, scratching at the underside of her neck. Instead of stretching out her neck like he’s seen every cow do with Derek, Molly proceeds to snort, lick a stripe all the way from his chin to his hair, and then burp in his face.
It takes a second for it to sink in before Stiles squawks and scrambles to his feet, backing hurriedly away from Molly with his fingers forming a cross in her direction. “Demon cow.” He hisses, refusing to turn his back on her until he gets all the way around the other side of the barn.
“What the hell happened to you?” Derek asks as he hops out of his truck, Scott tumbling out of the passenger seat. Stiles wipes his face with the bottom of his shirt, hoping it gets rid of most of the cow slobber.
“The demon cow was on the fucking roof Derek,” he insists, already gearing himself up for an argument. “I know you won’t believe me but I saw her and Bud did too and she just licked me and burped in my face and-”
“Yeah she does that,” Derek shrugs, walking around the truck and pressing a soft kiss to Stiles’ lips. “All the calves fed?” Stiles just stares as he pulls away and steps over to the bed of the truck, where Scott has already let down the tailgate. They each throw a fifty pound bag of grain over each shoulder, and Stiles has to take a moment to just admire the whole musculature thing his boyfriends have got going on. They’re like... the hottest. Focus Stiles, focus.
“Yeah she does what, exactly? Burp in people’s faces or climb on the roof? Derek!” Stiles scurries after them, barely even getting distracted when Scott uses the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow after dumping the bags of grain. He has more serious things in his mind than abs right now. Derek’s making that face, the one where he’s trying really hard to look serious and not laugh and it’s actually super adorable and Stiles hates it.
“You didn’t even give me a kiss,” Scott pouts, pressing up against Stiles and backing him against the nearest wall. It’s an effective distraction technique, because there’s no turning down a kiss from Scott, especially when he’s all demanding and warm and pressing his lips against his throat. Stiles groans and fists his hand in Scott’s hair tugging until he pulls his head up and kisses him right, slow and wet and just enough to get Stiles’ blood rushing.
He forgets all about everything except for the taste of Scott’s lips and the slick slide of their tongues. And then a cow moos. And it all comes flooding back.
“Wait,” he pants, pushing gently against Scott’s chest. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with Mr. Hale. We can make out later.” Scott sighs but ultimately backs up, returning to the bags of grain he dropped on the floor. He starts ripping the tops off as Stiles stomps towards Derek, cornering him. The almost soothing sound of grain filling a barrel serves as the background for Stiles’ very serious stare down with Derek. Derek, who is now smirking proudly, his ridiculous eyes alight with mischief. It’s actually the worst, because Stiles just wants to pull a Scott and back him up against the nearest wall and kiss him senseless.
“How could you have a cow that goes on ROOFTOPS and not tell me. That’s vital information.” That’s it. He can handle this. Derek just laughs though, stupid dimples appearing beneath the three day stubble he’s got going.
“Oh she doesn’t climb on roofs,” he pats Stiles consolingly on his shoulder, apparently not affected by the dangerous narrowing of Stiles’ eyes. “She burps a lot. There’s no way she was on the roof. It’s impossible.”
Stiles grinds his teeth, hands curling into fists and he sucks in a breath through his nose. Derek Hale is the absolute worst. He is going to give that jerk a piece of his mind.
“No I know what I hmph-” Derek cuts him off with a rough kiss, yanking Stiles up against him by the belt loops. He stumbles forward, catching himself with two hands on Derek’s chest, and okay, maybe there’s better things than arguing about cows. Like feeling Derek up. “You’re the worst,” Stiles mumbles against his lips, shivering when Derek’s hands slip up beneath his shirt, calloused fingers dragging across his ribs.
“You love it,” Derek teases, stubble scraping across Stiles’ jaw as leaves a trail of biting kisses down the side of his neck. Stiles loses any possibility of a reply when he feels Scott press up against his back, dick already half hard when he presses his hips against Stiles’ ass. Stiles groans and leans his head back, watching dazedly as Scott and Derek kiss over his shoulder, both of their bodies rolling deliciously against his. He’s going to die from this one day, he absolutely sure of it.
He’s managed to get Derek’s pants unbuttoned and is working on slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of his briefs when there’s a clatter overhead. Stiles freezes, the Scott and Derek induced sex haze clearing in an instant. This is his chance.
He grabs Scott and Derek by the fronts of their pants and drags them outside before they even get a chance to protest. The sun’s almost sunk behind the trees, but there’s just enough fading light to see by. Stiles spins them as they burst through the door, letting out a whoop when he spots Molly, very clearly standing on the roof.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Derek says quietly, rubbing at his chin and looking absolutely ridiculous with his pants undone and his hair all mused. And by ridiculous, he means ridiculously hot. At the sound of his voice, Molly’s head shoots up and she moos happily, slipping across the roof. They watch in awe as she comes to a stop at the edge, stepping delicately down onto a stack of lumber, teetering precariously before she jumps down onto an old upside down water tub, and then to the ground.
“That’s not natural,” Scott whispers quietly, looking just as ridiculous(ly hot) with his lips swollen and kiss red. They all watch curiously as Molly trots over to Derek, rubbing her head against his chest until he reaches out and scratches her neck. This time she actually sighs and stretches out her neck, eyes falling closed as Derek pets her.
“Demon cow,” Stiles whispers, fixing a look of innocence on his face when Derek sends a glare his way.
Yeah, she’s definitely his favorite.