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Derek, staring at the floor, fists clenched, mutters, “Maybe I’m tired of being your dirty little secret,” and Stiles is so surprised, he drops the pan he’s washing in the sink, splashing water up on the countertop.
“What?” Stiles says, the sponge hanging in his fingers, forgotten. “Sorry, I don’t-what?”
Derek looks up to glare at him.
“I’m tired of being your dirty little secret. I want you to tell your dad. About us.”
“Oh. Okay.” Stiles slowly starts in again on yesterday’s dishes. “Stay for dinner, like you do half the time anyway, and we’ll tell him together. You’ll help me, right?” His smirk hides his nerves, but Derek can hear his heart tripping away.
“Of course.”
Stiles nods, it’s settled then, and asks about Derek’s latest Skype with Jackson.
-----
The Sheriff has barely had three bites of food before Stiles kicks Derek’s shin and raises his eyebrows at him. Ready? Derek nods. Stiles takes a deep breath.
“So Derek is a werewolf.”
The Sheriff scoffs and sets down his silverware at the same time Derek chokes on his seltzer and hisses, “What.”
Stiles gives Derek his best get-with-the-program-and-help-me eyeroll and plows forward. “Derek. He’s a werewolf. Werewolves are real.”
The Sheriff only continues to chew, skepticism brewing in his crinkled eyes. Stiles kicks Derek again and says, “Shift, so I don’t seem crazy.”
Glaring at his plate as if it personally offended him, Derek shifts, claws, fangs, flashing eyes, the whole nine-yards, then back, all without looking up.
“See? Told ya.” Stiles continues to munch on his green beans, and the Sheriff just says, “Huh,” then, “I don’t know if I’m okay with you dating a werewolf, Stiles.”
Derek whips his head to stare at Stiles.
“You’ve already told him we’re dating?”
“Yeah, 'course I did, three months ago, when we actually started dating.” Stiles looks bewildered when it’s clear this is news to Derek. “We had you over for Christmas dinner!”
“As a friend!”
“I thought we minimized the love-eyes so we didn't make my dad uncomfortable!”
Derek sighs the sigh of the resigned, then chances a look at the Sheriff.
“You never threatened me for dating your son…”
The Sheriff lets out a short laugh.
“Because that’s old fashioned and unnecessary. Stiles is 18, he can make his own choices.” His face suddenly goes stormy. “Why, should I threaten you? Now that you’re a creature of the night?”
“Dad!”
“Fine, fine, no threats.”
That crisis averted, Stiles’ brain finally catches up to what’s happened. He turns back to Derek.
“You thought I hadn’t told him about us. You meant us-us, not werewolves-us. And now I’ve just outed your furry little secret.” He winces. “Sorry.”
Derek shrugs and goes back to eating the food in front of him while it’s still lukewarm. It's actually amazing the Sheriff hadn't found out sooner.
The Sheriff breaks into the following silence occasionally. Derek and Stiles switch off answering.
“So Scott-”
“Was bitten by his uncle, Peter.”
“And the Argents-”
“Were werewolf hunters. They're allied with my pack now.”
“And your pack includes Stiles?”
“Of course.”
“The swim team-”
“Mostly killed by Matt, but through Jackson, because Jackson wasn’t really himself, he was a kanima.”
“What the hell is a kanima?”
“Kind of like a lizard.”
“Oh.”
As dinner draws to a close, the Sheriff declares that everything is still fine with him, as long as they continue to be honest and do the dishes.
Derek and Stiles both say yes with their fingers crossed behind their backs. There will always be some things the Sheriff is better off not knowing.