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Stiles was drunk. There was no doubt about it. Derek always had three ways to tell if Stiles was drunk.
- He was even more clumsy. Like, excruciatingly clumsy. He couldn't walk straight if his life depended on it, and Derek sincerely hoped he'd never have to run or fight something when inebriated. His normal lack of coordination was nothing compared to the way his limbs flailed after a few too many beers.
- He was even more talkative. His normal babbles could fill novels. When he was drunk, they filled tomes. He was often repeating himself several times in one night, because his brain was slowed but his mouth was certainly not. Derek could remember specifically one evening being filled with Stiles telling him over and over again that his eyes weren't just one color, they had many beautiful shades, they were completely unique. He teased his lovely hungover boyfriend about it for hours the next morning.
- Stiles was even more flirty. He wasn't known to hide his attraction to others, example: Lydia Martin. It's the reason, for a long time, why Derek hadn't been convinced that Stiles actually wanted to be with him, because Stiles flirted with practically everyone he thought was even remotely good-looking, as long as he and the person were both single. Stiles had to sit Derek down and slowly explain to him that he had feelings for him, strong ones, and if Derek didn't start acknowledging the flirting, in either returning the gesture or dismissing it, he was going to lose his mind. Derek had slowly admitted that he did return the feelings. Things blossomed from there, and Stiles stopped flirting with basically everyone, except Derek. But drunk Stiles was a different story - he flirted with everyone, including, on a few particularly rough nights, Scott.
The pack had gotten together to celebrate Derek finally rebuilding the Hale house, now that most of them were graduating college. Derek wanted them to remain close, and decided to rebuild the pack house so that everyone could stay there when they wanted, though they weren’t obligated. The celebration aspect of the night had gotten a little out of hand, at least for the humans, and Stiles was showing absolutely every sign of being drunk. He'd nearly fallen over three times, knocked over two plates, and almost bashed his head into a wall before Derek managed to wrangle him into a relaxed position on the couch. During all this, Stiles had been rambling on and on about all sorts of things, from the importance of gender equality, to the way Derek looked in leather, to the more complex ideas in advanced calculus. He was currently on Derek in leather.
"It just hugs your body like no other fabric, Derek! It's an exquisite sight, one made for the gods, I swear. Damn, just imagine you in leather pants. And colored leather! Oh, I could just picture you in some nice red leather pants..." Stiles trailed off, sighing as he settled against the couch. Derek flushed hotly as the others snickered around him, Scott groaning at his best friend. But he also made a mental note to order some red leather pants later, if only to be used in the bedroom.
Obviously, Stiles had also been flirting. He'd been complimenting Derek (and others) for the better part of an hour now, but still most of the compliments were applied to Derek.
"Stiles, I think it's time you're officially cut off," Derek said, gently taking the drink from his boyfriend's hand.
"Don't take away my free will, Sourwolf!" Stiles yelled, causing Derek to wince at the volume. Stiles scrambled forward to try and get the drink back, but Derek swiftly avoided his flailing hands, passing the drink off to Scott.
"Yeah, Stiles, I think you've had a few too many," Scott agreed with Derek, still wincing at the mental picture of him in red leather pants.
"But, Scotty, how am I supposed to get the confidence to ask Derek out if I don't have some liquid courage?" Stiles whined, seeming to forget Derek was there. Derek shot Scott a confused, but amused, look.
"You're gonna ask Derek out?" Scott clarified, trying not to laugh. Beside him, Allison wasn't even trying not to giggle, a little tipsy herself. The rest of the room stifled their laughter, but Stiles didn't seem to notice.
"Yeah," Stiles smiled dreamily. "He's even cuter than you, Scotty."
Scott crinkled his nose in disgust. "Ugh, man, gross. We're like brothers."
"Doesn't mean you're not cute. Allison's cute too. You guys are, like, the cutest couple. If they made an award for cutest couple ever, you guys would totally win. Unless there was some cute European couple somewhere. Or Australian. Australians can be pretty cute," Stiles rambled.
“Dude, he’s gone,” Isaac laughed.
Derek laughed lightly too, which drew his boyfriend's attention back to him. Stiles's eyes went comically wide, and then his mouth stretched into a grin.
"Hey, Derek. I have a question for you," Stiles said.
Derek tried not to smile too hard. "Yeah?"
"Will you go out with me?" Stiles asked, leaning closer to him. He tipped a little too far and fell almost into Derek, who had to catch him to keep him from crashing into the coffee table while laughing at his boyfriend's question.
"Dude, did he just re-ask you out? Is he so drunk that he doesn't know you're dating?" Erica asked, incredulous.
Derek nodded, mouth quirking into a fond smile. His boyfriend was hilarious.
“God, I haven’t seen Stiles this bad since high school parties,” Lydia said, sipping from her cup. She’d been drinking, too, but seemed mostly unaffected by it.
“Maybe he’ll give Derek a lap dance,” Erica suggested, grinning wickedly. Derek shook his head at her, chuckling.
"Why are you laughing at me?" Stiles groaned, straightening back up to study him. "Wait, are you single?"
Derek paused. "Well, no, actually."
Stiles blinked at him for a minute before frowning and leaning back. "Oh."
Isaac cackled from where he was sitting on the ground. "He looks so upset!"
Stiles had turned back to Scott, frowning deeply. “Scotty, bro, what do I do? Derek’s not single! Derek is dating someone! But who? I never seen him with anyone else. Do you think he’s dating himself? He’s so attractive, if I were him I’d probably date myself.”
Scott laughed loudly at Stiles while Derek was kind enough to hide it behind his hand. Allison was still giggling, Erica and Isaac were practically crying with laugher, and Jackson and Lydia and Boyd just looked amused.
“Bro, I promise, Derek only has eyes for you,” Scott chuckled.
“I know, I thought so too! But apparently he’s taken,” Stiles sighed dramatically, slumping over and nearly falling off the couch. “I think my life is over.”
“I think mine is complete,” Erica said, still laughing. “Do you think he’ll cry?”
“Why don’t you ask him who he’s dating?” Scott asked Stiles.
“I don’t wanna know!” Stiles muttered, sniffling. “He’s probably prettier than me and smarter than me, and - oh. He’s probably a she. Dude, is Derek even gay? Oh god, you don’t think he’s, like, sex repulsed now, right? Because I read this one article about a violent rape victim who was sex repulsed after her trauma, and just wasn’t interested in sexy times after that. Derek’s not exactly a violent rape victim, but I’m pretty sure his experience would qualify as the same level as fucking horrible and he could definitely not be interested in sex anymore.”
Derek blinked, then had to hide his grin. He was definitely not sex repulsed. Sober Stiles knew that fact very well. But, obviously, drunk Stiles had forgotten.
“Stiles, just ask him!” Scott shook his head, still laughing.
Stiles just continued to frown. “No, it’s better if I don’t know. I mean, I might do something stupid, like try to break them up, and then Derek wouldn’t be happy. I just want Derek to be happy.”
Everyone was surprised when Stiles started to tear up, despite Erica’s teasing. He was normally such a happy and bubbly and flirty drunk. Derek soothingly rubbed his back, only half-guilty. The other half of him was trying not laugh at his boyfriend’s expense, which only drew Stiles’s attention back to him.
“Derek! I have another question,” Stiles said, quickly wiping away the few tears that had fallen. “Who are you dating?”
Stiles was staring at him so earnestly, eyes wide as saucers. His bottom lip was trembling slightly as he awaited an answer. He looked absolutely adorable to Derek, who was fighting a smile.
“You,” Derek said quietly, a soft smile spreading across his face. “I’m dating you, you drunk idiot.”
“Oh,” Stiles sighed in relief, giving Derek a half smile. “Does that mean I can kiss you?”
Derek just laughed quietly, leaning in for a quick kiss. Stiles smiled dreamily as if his whole world had just fallen into place, and Derek’s heart melted. Even drunk off his ass, Stiles had Derek completely wrapped around his finger. He leaned in for another kiss, this one a little deeper.
“Gross,” Jackson muttered, mostly teasing. Lydia hit him on the arm. “Keep it in the bedroom, please.”
“I think it’s cute,” Isaac smiled.
“Okay, I think it’s time for bed,” Derek said, soft smile still in place, eyes only on Stiles. “You’re going to be so hungover tomorrow.”
“I will not be!” Stiles retorted, standing up clumsily. He stumbled forward and Derek’s hands quickly shot out to grab him. “I never get hungover!”
“You always get hungover,” Derek snorted, leading him away from the giggling pack and into the privacy of their bedroom. “And you’re always mad at yourself for it. You’ll see.”
“No, you’ll see.” Stiles jabbed a finger in Derek’s chest.
They reached their bedroom and Derek quickly and efficiently stripped Stiles down to his boxers for bed, then climbed in with him. Stiles was asleep within minutes, and Derek wasn’t far behind.
—
“Uggghhh, I'm never drinking again. Ever,” Stiles moaned, refusing to open his eyes.
“Uh huh,” Derek nodded, not convinced. “You say that every time. Now sit up so you can have some water.”
Stiles slowly sat up so he could take the glass of water from his boyfriend’s hands, glaring.
“This is your fault y’know,” Stiles said, taking a huge sip of water. “You should have cut me off before I got too drunk.”
“I tried.” Derek raised his brows. “You started yelling that I was taking away your free will every time I took your drink away.”
“Oh god,” Stiles groaned. He took another gulp of water before setting the glass on the nightstand. He gestured for Derek to join him back in bed. “I probably did so many embarrassing things. Do I even want to know?”
“Hmm,” Derek mused. He climbed in next to Stiles so that his hungover boyfriend could cuddle up to him. “Well, you did tell me I looked nice in leather.”
“Fuck,” Stiles flushed. “I mean, you do, of course you do. But, knowing me, I probably said that in front of the entire pack, huh?”
“Yeah,” Derek grinned. “You also hit on Scott a little. Mostly it was just telling him and Allison what an attractive couple they were. But not as attractive as Australian couples, apparently.”
“What the fuck? Drunk Stiles is weird,” Stiles laughed. “C’mon, I wasn’t that drunk, was I?”
“Babe,” Derek laughed. “You were so far gone, you forgot we were dating. You asked me if I was single and you cried when I said no. You thought I might be dating myself, and that I might be sex repulsed.”
“Oh, no,” Stiles moaned. His cheeks and ears were red, some of the flush even spread down his neck. “I hate my life. I really hate my life. I’m not talking to anyone today. Don’t ever let me drink again.”
Derek pressed a kiss to his forehead, nodding along, but he knew he couldn’t say no to Stiles. If Stiles wanted a drink right now, Derek would probably get him one. If Stiles wanted the moon, he would try his damn best to get it for him. He loved him way too much.
“I love you,” Stiles sighed, cuddling closer, obviously intending to sleep. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
“I love you too. I’ll always take care of you,” Derek said quietly, settling in to watch Stiles sleep. “Always.”