Archive of Our Own

So his dad and Derek had the talk.  You know the one, the shovel talk, or well, the revolver, shotgun, handcuffs and jail cell talk in the case of his dad. Regardless, the talk where his dad told Derek in no uncertain terms that if he did anything to his precious baby boy, the light of his life, the fruit of his loins, the...well, you get the idea... that Derek would pay for the rest of his life.  But did he do this while Stiles was there to appreciate the staunch defense of his honor? The passionate avowal of undying love? The heartfelt rejoicing of having such a wonderful person in their lives? No, of course not, he had to wait til Stiles was stuck in school and lacrosse training all day.  And of course all he could get out of the always verbose Derek was, "So, I talked to your dad. He's not going to arrest me." Yeah, so helpful that one.  Of course his dad wasn't much better, that whole conversation consisted of, "I talked to Derek. I'm not going to arrest him... for now." Seriously, they had no concept of how much he needed to know about this.  Maybe if he made some brownies he could get them to spill....hmmm, better make it double chocolate chip brownies, they were both stubborn.

What the fly saw in all its multifaceted glory:

John let Derek in the door, making sure to oh-so-casually lean back against the only convenient exit point.  "So...you and Stiles?"

"Yes sir."

"You love him?"

"More than anything."

"If anything happens to him..."

"I'd die first."

"Make sure that you do." Stepping away from the door, John headed to the kitchen. "Beer?"

"Sure."

Pulling a couple beers out of the fridge, John handed one to Derek, holding onto it a moment longer than needed as he stared into Derek's eyes.  "I have no problem arresting you again."

"Understood."

"Glad we had this talk."