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When Stiles got home from the club, it wasn't too late. He'd had one scene, a hard scene. Heavy on humiliation, pain, and then comfort. It had been good, but he'd known when it was booked that he wasn't going to do another. Luckily it was a Tuesday. A slow night. He could go home to Derek and Isaac, his beautiful, amazing family.
Isaac looked up when Stiles walked in, his body completely engulfed in the comforter he must have stolen from the laundry pile of things Stiles had stripped off his bed. Stiles couldn't help the laugh. He walked over and leaned in to wrap a hand around Isaac's throat, tilting his head back. "Didn't I ask you to wash this today?"
Isaac gave him that look, the wide eyes, the quivering pink mouth, the one that brought Stiles to his knees if he let it.
"Smells like you and Derek, Daddy." And Stiles groaned.
"But the rest of the bedding?"
"Folded in the closet," Isaac replied.
Stiles kissed his forehead. "Good boy. Derek?"
"Upstairs," Isaac said, "was quiet during dinner. Went right up after."
Stiles hummed. That was concerning. Derek usually stayed down and hung out with Isaac on the nights Stiles worked and they didn't join him at the club. Maybe he'd had a bad day in court. Or he wasn't feeling well.
Stiles hugged Isaac. "I'll be back soon, sweetheart." He headed upstairs.
Derek faced the door, curled up on his side, bedding pulled partially up over his head. His open eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks wet. Stiles frowned at sat down on the bed.
"Hey, you," he said softly. He reached out to card his fingers through Derek's hair. "What's going on?"
Derek opened his mouth and all that came out was a sad, hiccupy, sobbing breath. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled into himself.
"Sweetheart, are you hurt?"
Derek hesitated for a second, then shook his head.
"Did something happen that you feel guilty about? Like you're in trouble?"
Derek shook his head.
"Okay. Can you please tell me why you're crying? Take your time."
Derek sniffed a few times. He squirmed a little. He rubbed at his eyes.
"Miss Papa and Daddy," he managed finally and oh. Fuck.
Stiles knew about this part of Derek. They'd talked about it. But his little side so rarely came out and that was a relationship he'd established with Peter and Chris. He hadn't been looking for another Daddy. They hadn't really talked about it that much. Spent more time on them as a couple and them as Dom and sub. But Stiles knew how to be around a little. He knew how to be a caregiver, so he climbed onto the bed and sat back against the headboard. He spread his legs.
"Come sit here, angel," he said softly. And Derek hesitated, but after a few seconds, he did. He pressed his back to Stiles' chest and let himself be surrounded, Stiles' legs boxing him in, his arms wrapping around his middle, chin hooked over his shoulder.
"Did you try to call?" Stiles asked.
"Texted Daddy. But s'late, 'tiles."
Stiles absolutely filed away the way little Derek said his name to geek out over later. In the meantime, he fished his phone out of his pocket.
It was almost eleven.
"Where are they right now?" He asked.
"Edinburgh," Derek answered.
Six hours. Meant it was almost five am. Early, but not the middle of the night. He wrapped himself tight around Derek.
"We will call now, okay?"
Which made Derek cry. "Too early. Be mad."
"I'm calling. They can be mad at me, okay? Not you, angel. Just me."
Derek made a sound that sounded like he didn't quite believe it.
Stiles called Peter on video chat anyway. And for a moment, he didn't think they'd answer. But then the video screen clicked on, dark on their end. Stiles could hear them. A little cursing, then, "Chris, turn a light on," before Peter said, "Stilinksi, do you know what fucking time--Derek? Baby, what's wrong?"
The click of light, Peter's face, disheveled hair and then Chris too, looking very similar and worried. They both looked worried.
Derek let out a soft sob. "Papa."
"Oh, sweetheart," Chris murmured.
"Are... are you mad cos... woke you up?"
"Mad? Because our sweet little boy needed to talk to us? Never. Of course not," Peter said.
"Miss Papa and Daddy," Derek mumbled.
"We miss you too, honey," Chris said, "so much. We just had dinner last night at that place we celebrated your birthday last year and missed you the whole time."
"Daddy tried to get me to eat haggis. Isn't that yucky?" Peter said. "He almost got a bite in my mouth, but I ducked. Threatened to bite his fingers."
Derek let out a soft sound that was almost a giggle. "No biting, Papa."
"That's what I said!" Chris said, shaking his head.
"I didn't do it," Peter said, rolling his eyes. He was quiet for a second, then asked, "are you being good for Stiles?"
"An angel," Stiles murmured, nuzzling him.
"Good. Have you got Bitty Tiger and blankie?" Chris asked and Stiles felt Derek go rigid in his arms and then slump, head falling to his chest.
"Missing," he cried.
"Did you bring them over from the apartment?" asked Peter.
Derek stayed quiet for a few seconds, then shook his head.
Peter smiled wide. "Oh, then they aren't missing, baby! Probably in their cubby in the closet, right?"
"Oh," Derek said, sitting up slightly. "Yeah!" But then he deflated again. "But I'm here."
Stiles pressed a gentle kiss to Derek's shoulder. "Why don't I run to get them while you talk to your Papa and Daddy?"
Derek considered, then nodded. Stiles handed him the phone and climbed off the bed. He got Derek tucked back into the covers.
"I'll be back as soon as possible, okay? You want anything else?"
"Stiles, there is a small Lion King suitcase that should have a little of everything," said Chris. "The small section of cubbies closest to the right wall of our closet is all Derek's. Bitty Tiger and Blankie should be in the one at chest level, the suitcase is on the bottom."
"Puppy cup?" Derek asked, eyes wide.
"In the pantry, there is a basket with four sippy cups. Paw Patrol and Batman are the coveted ones," Peter explained.
"Got it," Stiles said. He leaned in and kissed Derek's cheek. "Isaac is right downstairs if you need him."
Derek nodded and curled up around the phone, eyes only for Peter and Chris.
Stiles thought he'd be jealous at first, but he found he wasn't. Not at all. All three of them had Derek and Derek had them. For different needs and purposes. But it felt like one person was more important than the others.
He quickly explained the situation to Isaac and headed out. He took an uber so he didn't have to worry about parking.
Luckily, the guy agreed to wait while Stiles went up. He keyed in the door code, shut it behind him, and headed straight for the bedroom.
Bitty Tiger and Blankie were both well-loved. Which made sense as Stiles knew they were almost ten years old at this point. Bitty Tiger was so soft. The fur was a little dingy and the velvet on the nose had worn away. Stiles tucked the toy into the mostly full suitcase. The blanket was much larger than Stiles had anticipated. Was dark blue flannel, worn extra soft and pliant with age, with a purple silky ribbon border. He had to tuck it under his arm. Paw Patrol and Batman sippy cups barely fit into the suitcase, but he got everything he needed and locked the door behind him.
The trip back seemed to take three times as long, but rationally Stiles knew he was just anxious to get back.
When he got in, the couch was empty, TV off.
Stiles had a hunch. He rinsed out the Paw Patrol cup while heating milk in the microwave and then filled both that and Isaac's Captain America cup. Carefully balancing, he headed upstairs.
He stopped in the doorway to the master bedroom. Isaac and Derek could barely be seen from where the to-be-washed comforter had overtaken them.
Both of them were in a serious conversation with Chris and Peter about Iron Man. It was darling, absolutely darling.
"Isaac, honey," Stiles said, voice fond, a little exasperated, "the comforter isn't supposed to come back up to the bedroom still unwashed."
"Yeah, but Daddy, listen," Isaac said, not even looking up, "Derek needed it because it smells like us and the new ones smell like soap. And when you're sad, you want it to smell like Daddy and Derek and Isaac. Home."
Wide green eyes watched Stiles as he stepped into the room. "Like it," Derek mumbled.
"I guess that's okay, then. But it gets washed tomorrow." Stiles said. He set the suitcase on the end of the bed. He first offered each their cup, then pulled out Bitty Tiger and Blankie for Derek who just smushed his face against the fabric at first.
Stiles poked through the suitcase and withdrew a pacifier. He set it on the nightstand and set the rest of the bag aside before heading to the closet. He changed into pajamas and then went to brush his teeth. When he came back out, both boys were snuggled up under the comforter, sucking at their cups. Isaac's eyes were mostly closed, and Derek's were drooping. Stiles managed to just grab the phone before it dropped on his face. He turned it and offered the two men a smile.
"Thank you," Peter said, voice soft.
Stiles shrugged. "Would do anything for him."
"We know," Chris replied. "He's lucky to have you."
"I'm grateful every day to have him," Stiles replied, sitting on the bed next to Derek, he glanced down at him, the boy’s eyes still open just a slit, but well on his way out.
"Derek, sweetheart. Can you say goodnight to your Daddy and Papa?"
Derek's eyes opened a little more and he yawned. His cup fell and he rubbed at his eyes.
"Ninight," he mumbled.
"Goodnight, baby," Peter said.
"Love you so much and we miss you. But we will see you soon. Promise." Chris added.
Derek blew a sleepy kiss. "Love oo."
Stiles waved and said a quick goodnight and ended the call. He glanced down at Derek who was looking right up at him. Stiles smiled. He picked up the cup, ready to give it back to him, but it was empty. He grabbed the pacifier from the bedside table and pressed the nub to Derek's mouth. Lips parted, letting it slip in.
"Love oo 'tiles," Derek mumbled behind the pacifier.
"Love you, Derek. So so much."
Derek smiled and his eyes slowly closed completely.
Stiles smiled. He turned off the light and snuggled up, quickly drifting to sleep himself.