Work Text:
The sun wakes him the next morning; it falls bright and warm through the window and across his bed. It takes a few minutes for Stiles to uncurl himself from the nest of sheets, in the end he just rolls to the side and straight onto the floor. He just sits there for a minute with his knees tucked underneath him and blinks slowly. His eyes feel heavy, almost as heavy as his limbs and there is a dull ache in his butt and back. The thought of that makes him flush, the warmth of Derek’s hands and the thickness of his cock. The taste of him is still on Stiles lips when he flicks his tongue out to wet them. It makes him shudder, there is no way it was all a dream. He really doesn’t want it to be a dream. Stiles scrambles up; kicking at the blankets until he’s free and hurrying to his dresser. He finds a pair of jeans and a white shirt, pulling them on before running to the door. He takes the stairs two at a time. He and Derek had come in towards dawn and everyone had been asleep, expect for his Dad. His Dad had hugged him when he’d appeared and given Derek a dark, warning glare, but he’d said nothing. He’d allowed Stiles to lead Derek up to his room. The pair had slept curled together but Stiles was kind of disappointed that he’s woken up alone. Now the house was awake a bustling, the pack walking in and out as they left for work or did chores. The house was a big, two story building built of wood. There were a dozen bedrooms, four had a bathroom connected and there was another large bathroom on the second floor and a slightly smaller one on the second floor. The first floor had a large kitchen, three lounge rooms, a dining room, a library and a study. It was actually the home of the Alpha and his family, but others were always coming and going. Stiles and his Dad, as well as his Mom when she was alive, had earned a permanent place in the house because of the fact that Stiles was moon-touched. Stiles had lived here for as long as he could remember, they’d moved here soon after his birth and Stiles had never known anything else. This house, with it noise, zero privacy and constant in and out of people was home. Stiles swung around the corner and into the kitchen, finding Lettie, the Alpha’s mate, cooking pancakes and bacon and eggs. The clock on the microwave said it was ten-thirty, past breakfast time, but she probably knew he’d be up late. Lettie smiled at him over the kitchen counter.
“So you’re finally up?” She teased; she was kind of like his adopted mother. She’d been the he’d gone to when he’d need to cry over his Mom. He’s Dad hadn’t been able to handle it back then and Stiles had wanted to be strong for his Dad. Stiles smiled back, his eyes running over the room, Lettie seemed to notice. “He’s outside, he said to call him when you finally woke up.” Her expression is fond, the smile on her face softening.
“How did you…” Stiles trails off, he’s supposed to be the moon-touched wolf, the intuitive one; but nothing seemed to get past Lettie. That was kind of one of the reason’s she made such a great mate for the Alpha.
“I’ve known you for a long time, sweetie.” She steps around the counter, pulling him into a hug that he happily returns. He buries his face in her shoulder, taking in the warm lavender and rain smell that always clings to her. “Go and get your boy while I finish making breakfast.” It sends a rush of heat into Stiles’s cheeks when Lettie calls Derek his, in Stiles head it’s the other way around.
“Sure, yea, I’ll just go and do that. ‘Cause he’s my boy and all.” Stiles can’t help the slight chuckle at the title, Derek is definitely not a boy. Well, maybe to Lettie he is. But not to Stiles, to Stiles, Derek is one big man or wolf, depending on how you look at it.
“Just go Stiles,” Lettie swats him in the back of the head as he heads towards the back door.
“I’m going, I’m going, don’t get your tail in a knot.” Stiles hears something thump against the wall as he vanishes out the door and he laughs, running before Lettie can throw something else out the door after him. Stiles knows where Derek is the moment his bare feet hit the ground. He doesn’t have to reach out to trees or the earth, they know what he wants and they lead him straight to Derek. He’s lying on his back in the sun, arm tossed up over his eyes. He’s only wearing a dark pair of jeans, probably the same ones from last night. He’s a beautiful sight, muscles defined, chest raising slowly then descending in an even pattern. His hair is dark, but shot through with lighter golden highlights from many days in the sun. His skin is tanned, smooth and warm looking. Stiles feels the wind stir, catching leaves, twigs and fine dust and blowing them all across Derek. It’s responding to Stiles mood and his need to be noticed by the beautiful man before him. He needs to know it’s not a dream. Derek jerks up, scattering the leaves and twigs. He snuffles and sniffs at the dirt he’s breathed in and Stiles can’t help laughing. Derek turns suddenly, looking over his shoulder at Stiles and clearly surprised to see him.
“How long have you been standing there?” Stiles can’t reply, to busy laughing at the leaves caught in Derek’s hair. The trees bend and sway, joining in with Stiles laughter, feeding off it.
“Not long…” Stiles finally manages to choke out, “There are leaves in your hair.” Stiles says as if that wasn’t obvious, Stiles steps forward and brushes them from Derek’s hair. Derek hasn’t gotten up yet, kneeling on the ground where he’d been since he’d noticed his young companion. He’s at the perfect height for Stiles to brush his fingers through the dark tangles of his hair. “Lettie’s making breakfast, she sent me to get you.” Derek leans forward, pressing his face into Stiles stomach. The material of the boy’s shirt is warm against his face and he takes a deep breath. Stiles smells sweet, of the woods and vanilla. It makes Derek want to eat him, rub himself all over Stiles until their scents mix and then devour him one inch at a time. “Derek?” Stiles’s hands have stilled in his hair and Derek wants to whine, missing the soft touch.
“It’s fine Stiles, lets go eat.” He climbs carefully to his feet, hands trailing up Stiles’s sides as he rises. He grins at the way Stiles shudders at the touch, Derek likes him, likes the way he reacts, the way he talks, Stiles is an amazing wolf. His mother was right, Stiles is worth it, Derek can see himself being dedicated to the little wolf for the rest of his life. Derek leans down, pecking Stiles lightly on the lips and getting a small blush for his efforts. Their fingers tangle together and they head back to the house together, Stiles swinging their hands back and forth between them.
“What do you want, Derek?” Stiles voice is soft when he finally breaks the silence. The house is in sight but Stiles pulls the bigger wolf to a stop. Stiles’s eyes are glowing silver, a sign that this is serious and Derek needs to think about it. There is more to the question than meets the eye, Stiles has so many layers, there is so much hidden beneath his shell of a hyperactive, teenage boy.
“I’d like you to meet my family…” Derek looks away, eyes scanning over the house that Stiles has spent most of his life in. He can hear the people, the wolves, inside. They’re talking, laughing, working, it’s what his family was like once, but isn’t now. “I don’t have a family, a pack, the way you do. But I’d like to.” Derek looks back at Stiles, eyes glowing blue. “I want to build a pack with you…” He sighs, steps in close and cups Stiles’s face in his hands. “If you want to, if you’ll have me.” Stiles scans him, taking in everything that is Derek Hale.
“Of course I’m keeping you, Derek.” Stiles grins, squeezing his own hands over Derek’s. “I’ll be happy in any pack as long as you’re there. Home is wherever you are.” Stiles laughs, light and warm. Derek can’t resist pulling him into a hug.