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“Derek!” All Stiles could do was stare in shock and possible horror as he called for Derek urgently.
“Yeah?” Derek called back, a sound of confusion in his voice.
When he came into the room Stiles looked from Derek and then back at Elijah, who was sitting in the middle of his room with paint and brushes strewn everywhere, his room painted absolutely every color that they owned.
“What -” Derek started, eyes widening as he looked around the room.
“I don't even know,” Stiles replied, sure that he still looked absolutely horrified by the mess before them. “And it’s acrylic!” Getting it off the carpet was going to be hell. If it even came off.
“Remind me why we bought acrylic paint again?” Derek asked with a chuckle and raised a brow at Stiles.
“Because tempera is washable and I didn't want Elijah’s artwork to get destroyed.” Of course, that meant that all of this was his fault because the paint was surely not washable.
Derek looked in the hallway and then back into the room. “Well, it looks like he didn't get anything outside of the room so we can just paint over the walls and worry about the carpet later.”
Stiles couldn't believe how zen Derek was being over the whole fiasco. “Yeah, I guess,” he replied and walked carefully into the room, trying not to step on any paint. It was pointless anyhow because when he reached Elijah, their son just laughed and held his arms up. Stiles picked him up, promptly getting paint all over his clothing and skin.
“This could be a skittles commercial since our child is the color of the rainbow right now,” Stiles deadpanned.
Derek laughed. “We’ll get right on that marketing,” he teased. “In the meantime, take Elijah a bath and I’ll clean up all the bottles.” Derek started into the room, picking up stray empty paint bottles, brushes and the like. “Just think of it like this,” he said as he turned to look at Stiles, red paint already streaked across his forearm. “It just makes it more of a home. I’m sure Elijah will get into a lot of other things before he grows out of it.”
“Yeah, right. He’s always going to be a wild child.” Stiles looked at Elijah, who had his hands on Stiles’ cheeks, which were now purple from the paint staining their son's hands. “And now I look like Barney.”
“Didn't that stop airing in 2010?” Derek raised a brow, shagging another stray bottle.
“Shut. Up.” But there was no heat behind the words as Stiles laughed softly, kissed Elijah’s head and whisked him off toward the bathroom.
Elijah’s room may look like a rainbow, but it was still their home. Where the three of them had built a life as a family. And Stiles couldn't wait to see what else Elijah painted in the future, despite the horror he knew he’d have when he found him amidst his next adventure.