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'Maybe, I just need to go to California... ‘Cause I am young, don’t wanna die yet, can’t afford it,' Eli mouthed along with the words of the music blaring in his AirPods as he waited for the three dots to turn into the response he was waiting on from Jackson.
Uncle Jackson: I can mail you some of my old lacrosse tapes
Me: mail?? how old r u
Uncle Jackson: Young enough to fight you, so shut your mouth
Me: you txt w your mouth open?? weird
Uncle Jackson: Do you want the vids or not?
Me: ya thx
Me: i’ll watch the mailbox or wtv
Uncle Jackson: Bye.
Eli caught movement over the top of his phone, so he dropped it face-down onto his chest—to reveal Stiles standing in his doorway.
“Oh, hey, Tato,” Eli greeted him, taking out one of his AirPods and pushing himself up into a sitting position. “Thank the Gods you’re back—Dad literally almost died like ten times while you were gone.”
“Yeah, well, I would’ve been here earlier, but nobody thought it would be smart to call the one person who’s intimately dealt with the Nogitsune before, so,” Stiles said bitterly as he threw his hands up. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
Stiles entered the room and sat on his desk. “Apparently, I took the single brain cell this entire pack shares when I left on this last case—that’s the only explanation I can think of for why I was left out of the loop.”
“Probably.”
“Definitely,” Stiles corrected. “So, anyway, now I have a list of asses I gotta kick over this very avoidable fiasco. Scott’s first, since he’s the Alpha—I’m pretty sure that’s how that works. His responsibility, or whatever.”
“Well, Scott taught me this,” Eli said, before letting his eyes glow bright gold.
Stiles’ mouth fell open in shock, before quickly morphing into a broad smile. “Your eyes! They’re shifted!”
“I know!”
“I’m so proud of you, Eli!” Stiles gushed as he practically leapt onto the foot of Eli’s bed, then clumsily began walking towards him on his knees. He reached for Eli’s hands, and Eli concentrated on his nails until they morphed into claws. “Holy shit, lemme see!”
Stiles grabbed onto his hands and brought them closer to his face than Eli would have dared to—considering he literally just learned how to pop them out a few days prior—to inspect them, as if they were the most impressive things he’d ever seen. Which, honestly, Eli thought was a little ridiculous for someone who’d spent half his life running with werewolves.
“They’re just claws.”
“Wrong—they’re my son’s claws,” Stiles said. He ran his thumbs over the tip of each one, as if checking that he did indeed have all ten—then told him, “This is so awesome.”
Eli bit the inside of his cheek to hide his smile and shrugged. “I can heal now, too.”
“I’m extremely relieved—that takes away a solid fifteen percent of my daily anxiety—but I really hope you never have to show it to me.”
Considering the fact that Eli was a walking disaster, he was absolutely certain that Stiles would end up seeing it eventually—though there was no need to stress him out even more by voicing it.
“Look at you,” Stiles cooed as he ruffled Eli’s hair—and Eli chuckled as he leaned away from him. “You’re growing up on me.”
“Does this mean I’m grown enough to have the Jeep?”
“I said you’re growing —not grown,” Stiles said as he stood up. “Nice try, though.”
Eli groaned as he fell back against his pillow.
“What were you up to before I came in? You obviously didn’t hear me get home—which is actually really unsafe, considering—”
“Just talking to Uncle Jackson about some lacrosse stuff,” Eli cut him off, wanting to skip the safety dissertation. "I wanted advice, so I could stop sucking as badly."
Stiles grimaced. “I hate that you talk to that jerk.”
“He’s not a jerk.” Eli had to have the same conversation with Jackson pretty often, too—both of them apparently determined to keep their pointless feud, despite the fact that they sent each other holiday cards and birthday presents every year. “He’s a lot like you, actually.”
“Hey!” Stiles scolded, jabbing his finger in Eli’s direction. “Don’t you ever say that to me again.”
Eli laughed and rolled his eyes.
“And I also played lacrosse in high school—on the same team as Jackass—so why don’t you just ask me for advice?”
“No offense, but I think the reason I need the help is because I’m related to you.”
“I’ve literally been home for ten minutes, and you’ve done nothing except insult me.”
“So, your list of ass kicking—”
“Language.”
“Maybe you should go easy on Scott, since he taught me how to shift.”
“Don’t give him credit for your accomplishment,” Stiles told him. “I helped teach his furry self not to shift, but I never got any credit. He’s getting an ass-kicking because he’s earned it—regardless of his guidance with your shift or the fact that he’s my brother-in-law.”
Eli put his hands up in surrender. The familiar sound of Derek’s car pulling into the driveway caught his attention, and he grinned. “Is Dad on your list?”
“Hell yeah, Dad is on my list! Right under Scott.”
“Well, he just got home, so—”
Stiles didn’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence before stomping off in the direction of the living room—and Eli quickly scrambled to follow him, ready to eavesdrop on what was likely going to be a rather impressive and amusing lecture.
“You better get your wolf ass inside right this second, Derek Sebastian!” Stiles demanded as he reached for the door knob. He had barely managed to open the door, before Derek barreled into him like a freight train, swiftly lifting him up as he rushed into the house. Stiles let out a surprised squawk as his limbs flailed in an attempt to find purchase around Derek’s waist and neck.
“No!" Eli complained as Derek kissed Stiles with an almost desperate passion that Eli never, ever, wanted to witness (yet frankly, witnessed far too often). When he caught a flash of tongue, he shouted, “I’m right here! Your son! Your only child! I’m being scarred!”
“I missed you,” Derek growled into Stiles’ mouth, clutching at his back like he was worried he’d disappear.
“I’m mad at you,” Stiles mumbled, though the tension was rapidly diminishing from his shoulders as he melted into the kiss. “You’re in trouble.”
“I know.”
Eli gagged as he got a nose full of the most horrifying musky, spicy scent, and he clamped both hands over his entire face as he stumbled towards the doorway. When a sound very close to a whine slipped out of Derek, Eli resorted to loudly saying, “AHHHH,” to block out any other noises as he escaped the house and made a break for the Jeep parked along the curb.
At least neither of his parents would notice him taking it for the next few hours.