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“Derek.” Stiles bursts through the front door. “My buddy. My pal. My bestest, bestest friend.”
Without looking up, Derek turns to the next page of his book. “No.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” Stiles flops down onto the couch beside him, nudging the werewolf with his foot. “C’mon man, I need your help.”
With a sigh Derek bookmarks his page and sets down the book. “What did you do?”
“Uh, rude,” Stiles scoffs. “Why would you automatically assume that I—” he balks at Derek’s expression. “It wasn’t my fault, okay.” He stands, pacing the length of the couch, hands raking through his hair.
It’s an anxious gesture Derek knows well.
“Stiles.” He snags the younger man on his way past. “What happened?”
“Okay, so.” Stiles takes a breath and sits on the edge of the coffee table. “You know how Dad keeps trying to set me up with people?”
“Yes?” Derek’s breath catches and he has to work to keep his face neutral.
The Sheriff seems to have made it his mission to find his son a partner, ever since Stiles had come home from college. Every other week Stiles will sprawl out on Derek’s couch to describe in detail each disastrous date, while Derek pretends to be interested.
“Well, today he tried to set up with Kyle.” Stiles makes a face, screwing up his nose and sticking out his tongue. “Kyle! And I just, I couldn’t Derek. I can’t do it anymore.” He glances away, lip caught between his teeth. “So, I… well… I might of—"
Derek feels the blood rush out of his face. “What did you tell him?”
“Just… that maybe I was already dating someone.”
“No.”
“And that maybe…” Stiles won’t look at him. “That someone was you.”
“Stiles.” Derek’s heart pounds in his chest. He stands, skirting around the coffee table and turning his back on Stiles so that the younger man can’t see the way his face is flushing.
“It just slipped out.”
“But why me?”
“Who else was I going to pick?” Stiles asks. “All our other friends are either married or in long term relationships.”
“What about Isaac?”
Stiles rolls his eyes. “Who would believe that Isaac and I are dating? C’mon man, Dad would never believe that.”
“But he’d believe me and you?”
“I mean, we’re friends,” Stiles points out. “I probably hang out with you just as much as I hang out with Scott. Please Der.” Stiles grabs him by the arm and drags him back over to the couch. “I need a break from Dad’s terrible match making. We just need hang out in public, which we already do anyway, so it’s not like we really need to change anything.”
Derek’s already shaking his head. “And what happens if you find someone you actually want to date?” he asks.
Stiles shrugs. “If that happens, we can just stage some kind of mutual break up.”
It hurts how casually he says it and Derek just knows he’s going to regret it, but he sighs, giving in to Stiles’ wide, pleading eyes.
“Fine.”
“Yes.” Stiles leaps back to his feet. “You are the best.” He stumbles back over to the front door, hovering in the doorway. “Oh, Dad wants you over for dinner. Tomorrow. 7pm. See you then.”
He slams the door shut before Derek has a chance to argue.
~
Derek stares up at the house.
It’s going to be fine.
He’ll have dinner with the Stilinski’s, just like he has a hundred times before and it will all be fine.
There is absolutely nothing to be nervous about.
He’s just got to convince the sheriff he’s in love with his son without revealing to Stiles that actually... he's head over heels.
It’s fine.
He adjusts his jacket; grabs the six-pack of beer he’d bought for Noah and walks up to the front door.
“Derek.” Noah claps Derek on the back and takes the beer. “Glad you can make it.”
“Yeah, thanks. I- uh, thanks for inviting me.” He grimaces internally and follows Noah down the hall towards the living room.
“Hey Der.” Stiles is in the kitchen, chopping up a tomato to add to the salad bowl sitting on the bench. “Come give me a hand with this. Dad, can you go light the barbecue?”
He waits for Noah to leave the room before putting down the knife. “You need to relax.”
“I am relaxed,” Derek grumbles, shrugging off his jacket. He drapes it over the back of a chair before joining Stiles by the counter.
Stiles huffs out an amused chuckle. “You should tell that to your face.” He picks the knife back up. “Dad promised to be nice to you. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Here,” he hands over the knife. “You finish this, I’ll make a start on the potatoes.”
~
“So,” the Sheriff reaches for a steak. “So, how long have you two been dating then?” He gestures between them with the tongs.
Derek shoots Stiles a panicked glare.
“Dad, you promised not to interrogate my boyfriend at the dinner table,” Stiles says, scowling across the table.
Derek tries not to focus on how the word ‘boyfriend’ had dropped so effortlessly from his lips.
“It’s not an interrogation, just genuine curiosity. You never told me how the two of you actually got together.” There’s a twinkle in Noah’s eye that Derek does not like. The sheriff is enjoying himself way too much.
“It just happened,” Stiles tells him, tone going defensive as he passes over the salad.
“Yes, but,” Noah turns to Derek. “Walk me through it.”
Derek can feel his face flushing. They’d never discussed this. They should have come up with a plan. A story. Anything.
“Stiles just—” he stumbles over the words. “He was persistent.” It’s not a lie. Not exactly.
“Yes. He is, isn’t he?”
Derek wants to hide. He wants to crawl under the table and disappear. Just become one with the floorboards.
“Dad.”
Noah takes a bite of his steak, chewing thoughtfully. “So, who asked who out?”
“Dad.”
~
“I’m sorry for the third degree over dinner.” Noah hands Derek a plate to dry. “I just—when Stiles told me I wasn’t sure I believed it at first.” He chuckles softly. “I thought he was just trying to get out of another blind date.”
“I guess it was a bit—” Derek grapples to find the right word “—sudden, but— I don’t think either of us were really expecting it to happen.” Again, it’s not an outright lie. Derek isn’t expecting anything to happen which is what makes this so much harder.
The Sheriff turns to look at him.
“You really like him, don’t you son.”
They’re alone in the kitchen. Stiles is out the back scraping off the barbecue.
“I do,” Derek tells him truthfully. He can’t help back glance towards the back door. “I know I’m probably not your first choice. You only want what’s best for him, and I get that but, I want to be that for him.” He stacks the plate on the counter.
Noah puts down the scrubbing brush. “I’ve seen the way Stiles is around you, the way he looks at you.” He pulls the plug and lets the water drain. “Trust me kid, you are.”
“I—” Derek can’t meet Noah’s gaze. Between the sincerity of his tone and the steady beat of his heart, it’s all too much. “I’ll uh, be right back.”
He folds up the towel and goes to find Stiles.
“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”
“What?” Stiles glances up sharply. “Did my dad say something?”
“No—” Derek shakes his head. “Well, yes, but—that’s not the point.” He sits on the top step of the patio. “I can’t do this. I can’t pretend that this is real. I don’t want to pretend.”
“Derek.” Stiles sets down the newspaper and wipes his hands on his jeans. “It wasn’t fair of me to drag you into this.” The step creaks and shifts as Stiles sits beside him. “I guess I just panicked when Dad asked, and… I wanted it to be you so bad.”
Derek frowns, turning to Stiles.
“But if you don’t want it—”
“I don’t want it to be fake, Stiles.”
“Oh.” The way Stiles’ eyes go wide is almost comical. “I didn’t want it to fake either.” Derek can hear the way his heart is pounding in his chest. The beat almost matches his own.
Stiles wets his lips with his tongue. He lunges forward and Derek copies the action, meeting him halfway.
Derek’s not sure what to do with his hands. They rise of their own volition, coming up to cup Stiles’ face. He feels the tug on his shirt as Stiles pulls him closer, dragging him deeper into the kiss.
When they break apart, Stiles smirks. “Just for the record, I like you. Like, a lot and I would definitely date you for real.”
Derek presses another kiss to his lips. “Do you think it’s too early to skip out on your dad?”
“I’m sure he’ll understand.” Grabbing Derek’s hand, Stiles drags him to his feet. “Dad,” he calls out, pulling Derek through the house. “Thanks for dinner, but we gotta go.”
Noah leans against the kitchen counter, face set in a smug grin. “Have a good night boys."
Reaching the car, Derek turns to Stiles. "Did he... plan this?"
Stiles shakes his head and climbs into the passenger seat. “Don’t question it, just drive.”