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“You sure you wanna do this, darling mate of mine?”
Derek gave Stiles a nervous smile.
“Not anymore, I’m not,” he said, his hands shaking ever so slightly higher out of nerves.
“Don’t listen to him, kiddo, you got this,” Peter said, patting him on the back as he made his way around the kitchen table to the living room. Probably off to get his ass kicked at Mario Kart since Isaac enjoyed beating him. Derek let out a shaky breath and moved his red piece, skipping over Stiles’ piece and putting it off to the side of the board.
Stiles raised a brow at him.
“Do me a favor, Derek,” he said. He was doing that thing he always did with him, where he wasn’t asking, but demanding. He’d always hated it, because he always fell for it, but at this moment it terrified him more than it irked him.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Never try to learn chess,” Stiles picked up one of his few remaining red pieces, jumped four of Derek’s, and landed on the end line. “King me, baby, ” he said, curling his hand in a gimme gesture.
Derek sighed. He only had two pieces left and there was nowhere to move that Stiles wouldn’t immediately take them.
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“Does the person on your card have blonde hair?” Isaac asked, looking over at Erica.
“No,” Erica responded, smirking.
“Does the person on your card look stupid?”
“...No.”
“Does the person on your card owe you fifteen dollars but probably won’t ever give it to you because she’s an unfaithful bitch who can’t keep promises?” Isaac asked, glaring at the blonde.
“...Are we still playing this game or are you talking to me?” Erica asked, leaning forward so she was almost directly in his space.
“Forget it, your turn.”
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"You don't want to do this," Stiles said, looking over at Peter.
"Do what, Stiles? Take everything you have and destroy it? Now, that's an option I would gladly choose."
"Peter, please."
"You can run, you can build your army, you can fight as hard as you want. But little by little, I will take everything you have and make it my own. I will destroy you, and everything you have ever cared for."
"You do realize that includes Derek, right? You’re own nephew."
"I'm counting on it."
"If that's what you desire, I have no choice but to stop playing nice with my mate’s darling uncle. Roll your dice... and I have conquered Alaska."
"Son of a bitch! Give me the dice! ... Hah! Three beats two! Gimme Ukraine! Europe is mine!"
"Peter, you are becoming too aggressive over a board game. Maybe we should play something else besides Risk? We have been playing the same thing for five days," Stiles stated, staring at the older man.
"No! I'm winning!" Peter protested.
"Ugh. I am having words with Chris about your world domination tendencies,"
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“Your Monopoly set is cursed,” Derek stated.
He glared at the board, currently filled with houses and hotels, abandoned pieces still spaced around the edges. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch instead of sitting on it and looking disgruntled. His nose was scrunched in disgust, and Stiles kind of wanted to reach over and boop it, just to see what he would do.
Instead, he leaned back on his hands and grins at Boyd. “I don’t think the fact that you lost means it’s cursed.”
Laughter rang out loudly from the kitchen, and Stiles caught Peter’s cackle above the rest. It was the tail end of game night, the point where the games are starting to be forgotten halfway through and abandoned in favor of fervent drunk rants and trips to the kitchen for more snacks. Peter had even supplied alcohol that would allow the wolves to get drunk, so the pack was having a lot of fun at the moment. Stiles could hear Isaac trying to convince the others to climb the spiral staircase and up to the roof.
It was just him and Derek left in the living room, and Stiles’ had enough rum and coke that everything was a little fuzzy around the edges. Shadow had run off to the bedroom, not wanting anything to do with the intoxicated pack after Erica tried to snuggle him to death.
Derek fell forwards slightly like he was tilting on his axis. He was a lot floppier when he was drunk. “I think that’s exactly what it means,” he said. “I always win Monopoly. I am the king of Monopoly. I do not go bankrupt.”
“You did in this game,” Stiles laughed, catching his hands as Derek went to cup his face. Derek beamed at him, forgetting to be irritated for a moment before he quickly overcompensated with an expression that was far too serious to be believable.
“Because it’s cursed,” he said.
“Because Isaac beat you.”
Derek gasped. “Isaac cursed Monopoly.”
“Isaac did not curse Monopoly,” said Stiles, swatting at him. Derek laughed and swatted him back, so they’re hitting each other’s hands as he spoke. “There were just a lot of us and you had bad luck this time.”
“Like I said, cursed!”
There’s the sound of a door opening and closing, and the chatter in the kitchen swelled and faded slightly. Isaac must have convinced everyone to go up to the roof. Stiles craned his neck to try and see if there’s anyone still left in the kitchen.
“Stupid Monopoly,” Derek muttered, mostly to himself. “Fuck Monopoly.” And, just as Stiles’ turned back to look at him, he reached out and hit the board off the table, sending cards and plastic pieces flying.
“Derek!” cried Stiles.
“Oops, not what I meant to do. I think I need to start drinking something that isn’t alcohol,” Derek said, looking at the carnage.
Stiles sighed.
“I will get you some coffee and maybe I can find something to help with the hangover you are going to have,” Stiles said, standing up. As he walked into the kitchen, he turned to see Derek cleaning up the mess he made.
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“Name something that’s not a crime, but should be counted as one,” Derek read, pulling Stiles back against his chest.
“Wasting food that people put their heart and soul into making,” Peter said, glaring at Isaac.
“Strike one,” Stiles said, giggling. Shadow took that moment to jump up into his lap and lick up his cheek. Derek smiled and rubbed at the dog’s head before turning to the rest of the pack.
“Being rude to people who are just trying to do their job,” Erica said.
"Strike two. One more strike and the others can steal.”
“How about when people plan a big ass something and then when you’re given the okay you can go, they cancel it all last minute? And yes, I’m talking about you!” Chris said, glaring at his boyfriend. For a moment there was an awkward silence.
“Yes, that’s the number one answer! Fifty points to your team! Okay, three answers left, gotta be careful...” Derek continued.