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“Daddy!” Nat yelled when Derek walked through the door, running from her spot on the floor to attach herself to one of Derek’s legs. She toothily grinned up at him, releasing him in favor of taking his hand and pulling him further into the room.
“Hey, sweetie,” Derek greeted her, taken off guard by the way his daughter was tugging on him.
“Mr. S said that I had to show you my drawing,” Nat excitedly explained.
Derek nodded in understanding, allowing Nat to pull him forward. His eyes wandered over to Stiles—Mr. S—who had his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Derek and Nat moving into the classroom. He didn’t miss the faint glint in Stiles’ eye as he watched them.
“Daddy has to speak with Mr. S, Nat,” Derek commented as Natalia released his hand to grab a few pieces of paper from beneath a mountain of scatter crayons.
“But Mr. S said to show you, daddy,” Natalia argued, waving the papers in the air.
“Trust me, Mr. Hale,” Stiles started as he straightened from his position leaning on the edge of his desk. “You want to see what Natalia drew.” Despite his formal appearance, there was a playfulness to his tone as he spoke.
Derek felt a wave of panic, turning his attention to Natalia’s drawings. Stiles didn’t tell Derek why he was required to come in and meet with him. He turned Nat’s drawing around to see two (what Derek assumed as male) stick figures holding hands, a blob that looked like a dog—their dog Max—and a little stick figure that looked like a little girl. The two male figures had a giant heart between them.
Derek would have been fine with the image, if Nat hadn’t written who she intended the figures to be. One had ‘DADDY’ written below it, the other had ‘MR. S’ with the ‘r’ backwards. He released a noise of indignation in the form of a groan.
“That’s me,” Nat started, pointing at the little girl. “And that’s Maxy,” she happily stated, gesturing towards the brown blob.
“It’s really nice, Nat,” Derek answered, sneaking a glance up at Stiles.
Stiles was suppressing a snicker as he took in Derek’s embarrassment.
“And this is you and Mr. S holding hands,” Nat said, pleased with herself as she smiled up at Derek. “Like in the park last weekend. Can we go on another picnic with Mr. S? And can Maxy come this time? I promise you he’ll be good and not poop.”
“Sweetie,” Derek started, cutting off her rant as he picked her up, placing her to sit on top of the nearby desk with her feet nestled on the attached chair. He knelt next to her as he set the drawings down. “We need to talk to you about this,” he gestured towards Nat’s drawing.
“About?” Nat questioned, small tears welling in her eyes as she started to think that she was in trouble.
“About Mr. S and me,” Derek answered. “About Mr. S and you and me,” he corrected himself.
Nat started to cry, heavy wet sob falling from her as her voice rang out at a high pitch noise. She covered her eyes with her hands, rubbing at them as she released more sobs. “I’m sorry.”
Derek was taken aback, still completely thrown by his daughter’s ability to thrash from one mood to another. He turned his attention to his side when he felt the warmth of a body pressing up against him.
Stiles reached a hand out to hold Nat’s hand, pulling it away from her face. “Natalia,” he softly spoke, a kind smile gracing his features. “It’s not bad. We just need to talk to you about it, okay kiddo?”
Nat silently nodded in response, sniffling as she wiped at her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. She hiccuped a small ‘thank you’ when Stiles wiped her tears away with the sleeve of his own sweater—a sweater Nat had picked out for him for Christmas and demanded that Derek give to him early so he could wear it for the chilly days ahead.
“I don’t want you to go away,” Nat stated through her tears. “I don’t want you to leave because Daddy will be all alone again. And I like the Sheriff! He tells funny stories and gives me candy.”
“Hey, I’m not going anywhere, kiddo,” Stiles answered, his eyes drifting over to Derek. “You and your dad are going to have to try pretty hard to get rid of me, now. Your dad and I just need to keep things quiet for a while—at least while we’re at school. That’s why we need you to be a big girl and keep this quiet, okay?”
Nat softly nodded her head in agreement. “You make Daddy smile,” she explained. “I just wanted him to have a picture of us at work.”
Derek moved to hold her other hand, rubbing gentle circles into it with his thumb. “That was really thoughtful of you, sweetie,” he stated.
“How about we take a picture of us?” Stiles offered. “And then you and I can put it in a frame and drive down to the station together and give one to both your dad and the Sheriff.”
Derek couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips as he looked at Stiles. He had to hold himself back from leaning in for a kiss.
Nat’s face lit up in excitement. “Can we?” She asked.
Stiles nodded in affirmation before putting a stern finger up. “But you’re going to have to tell me where the Sheriff is hiding those treats, because he can’t have them,” he stated, making both Nat and Derek lightly laugh.
“He only has them for me,” Nat explained. “He said not to tell you because you’d want to steal them.”
Stiles let his mouth fall into a small ‘o’ shape. “Did he now?” He looked at Derek. “My father is already getting her to cover for him,” he whispered.
Nat hopped down off of the desk, wrapping her arms around Derek as she placed her head on his shoulder.
Derek gently rubbed her back, silently mouthing ‘someone’s tired’ to Stiles behind Nat’s back.
Stiles smiled as he nodded. He picked up the picture, handing it to Derek as they both stood. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, I guess,” he offered as a beginning to their inevitable goodbye.
“Daddy,” Nat started, leaning back from Derek’s shoulder. “Can Mr. S come over for dinner tonight?”
Derek’s eyes flickered to Stiles, who looked surprised before collecting himself and offering a small nod. “I think we can work that out,” he stated, giving her a small whisker kiss against her cheek, making her loudly giggle.
Derek was thankful that Nat passed out after wolfing down dinner and a half hour of drawing. He carried her to bed as Stiles continue to work on the drawing he was making as Nat made her own. After tucking her in, he took his time returning to the room. He stood in the doorframe and fondly watched as Stiles switched from crayon to crayon, using different shades.
“Thank you,” Derek finally stated.
“For?” Stiles asked, not looking up from his paper.
“For handling her,” Derek explained, moving to take a seat on the floor by Stiles. He released a heavy sigh as he reclined against the couch.
“Dad said it was a long day,” Stiles commented.
“It was,” Derek confirmed. “And then when you called—”
“Sorry about that,” Stiles answered as he finally turned to look at Derek. “Stupid Harris came in and saw all the kids’ drawings. He immediately singled Nat’s out. He knows you’re a deputy so he got all condescending about how your relationship with my father must be good.” His features were annoyed by the mere restatement of the day’s events. “Nat corrected him and said it was me and you. So, naturally, he got all bent out of shape when he went to Human Resources and found out we’ve been dating for almost six months.” He released an aggravated sigh as he rubbed a hand over his tired features. “Gave me a lecture on not flaunting my relationship in front of the children. Like it’s our fault that the main office is stupid and put your kid in my class. HR knew I was dating the one and only Deputy Hale in Beacon Hills—you think they would connect the last name Hale to that.” He huffed in annoyance, not wanting his rant to take off and ruin the night.
Derek sighed. “I’m sorry that happened. But thank you for offering a solution to Nat. When she gets set on something, she can’t be convinced otherwise—even if you explain it to her.”
Stiles smiled, offering a small shrug. “I meant it,” he stated. “I’ve been … I’ve been wanting to get a picture of us together for a long time. My dad has been after me about it too.”
And Derek knew that. The Sheriff more than once commented how Derek didn’t have any pictures on his desk, offering to yell at Stiles about getting him one. But Derek didn’t want to be a pushy boyfriend—he was still unsure if he was doing anything correct in the boyfriend department.
“As long as you wouldn’t mind a picture of you and Nat on my dad’s desk,” Stiles added. “Because the minute he sees that on your desk, he’s going to want one.”
Derek laughed, knowing that it was true. “That can be his Christmas gift from Nat.”
“Ugh, don’t spoil the man,” Stiles stated, turning back to the paper he was working on coloring.
“Why are you using so many shades of blue?” Derek suddenly asked, trying to see over Stiles’ shoulder.
“Because blue is pretty,” Stiles answered, hunching over his paper to hide it from Derek. He dropped his crayon to pick up another blue one.
“Stiles, they’re both blue.”
“Correction, I am using Cerulean,” Stiles answered, continuing to draw.
“It’s blue,” Derek deadpanned.
“Read that label, Mr. Hale,” Stiles demanded as he sat up, stuffing the crayon in Derek’s line of sight. “I know you can read.”
“I can’t,” Derek sarcastically stated as he turned his head away from the crayon. “I never learned.”
“Oh, you poor child,” Stiles replied, leaning in to place a kiss on Derek’s lips. “I’ll have to teach you. I hear I’m an excellent teacher.”
“I really don’t like to think of you teaching children when I’m making out with you,” Derek remarked, pulling Stiles the rest of the way into his lap.
“Agreed,” Stiles replied, the paper he was drawing on almost fluttering in the air from the sudden movement. He moved back to kiss Derek, sneaking the paper in between their chests as Derek tried to pull him even closer. “I have a question,” he mumbled, releasing an indignant moan when Derek moved to nip at his throat.
“I’m listening,” Derek replied, showering attention on Stiles’ throat.
“This is serious, Derek,” Stiles stated in a needy tone, pushing his hands against Derek’s chest, the paper slightly wrinkling, much to Stiles’ dismay.
“You’re being serious,” Derek replied, a flash of panic crossing his features.
“It’s not bad,” Stiles immediately answered, his fingertips caressing Derek’s jawline in an attempt to ease his thoughts. “Just serious,” he smiled as he placed a kiss on the tip of Derek’s nose.
Derek arched his eyebrows at Stiles, waiting for him to explain himself.
Stiles held up his picture for Derek to see, gently biting down on his bottom lip as Derek’s eyes scanned the drawing.
There were stick figures matching Nat’s, only this time there was a house next to them. There were words next to it, ‘Hale-Stilinski Home.’
“Is this something you still want to do?” Stiles smiled at Derek when he looked up at him. “Because I want to,” he quickly uttered. “I have for a while now. But I wasn’t sure if you still wanted—”
Derek leaned forward, capturing Stiles’ lips with his own. He brought his hands up to cradle Stiles’ face in his open palms, holding him close as he kissed him.
“Derek,” Stiles almost sighed, dropping his paper in between them as he moved to clutch at Derek’s shoulders. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes, you idiot,” Derek answered, peppering Stiles with kisses.
“Romantic,” Stiles quipped as he clung to Derek. He made a small whine of surprise when he felt the snap of something against his back when Derek moved to spread him out across the floor. He wiggled some, looking down to see the crayons scattered, broken across the carpet exactly where Stiles’ butt was.
“Crap,” Stiles muttered.
“She won’t care,” Derek answered, trying to kiss Stiles once more.
“She will too, you horn dog,” Stiles replied. “She cried in class when Vicki took her favorite ones from the box last week.”
“She’d rather have you in her life than a couple of crayons,” Derek explained, brushing the pieces of crayon out from under Stiles.
“Yeah?” Stiles asked, arching his eyebrow at Derek, his ego wanting him to elaborate.
“You’re her favorite thing in the whole world,” Derek sighed.
“Besides you,” Stiles corrected him.
“She gets mad at me when I read her bedtime stories now,” Derek stated with a bit of disappointment in his voice. “Apparently, I don’t do the voices right.”
Stiles broke out into a fit of laughter. “You’re actually sad about that, aren’t you?”
“It was the one thing I managed to do right, Stiles,” Derek stated as he fixed Stiles with a look that tried to convey that Derek didn’t appreciate his laughter.
“Aw, come on, babe,” Stiles started, reaching his fingers out to pinch at Derek’s cheeks, smirking when Derek swatted at them. “I literally am certified to tell children stories.”
“Now all she does is say, ‘That’s not how Stiles does it. Stiles does it better.’ And she never let’s me forget it,” Derek answered. He noticed a sudden seriousness falling over Stiles. He looked at him, concerned that he somehow crossed the line telling him that.
“She … she calls me Stiles?” Stiles asked, an excitement bubbling up in his voice.
“Outside of class,” Derek answered, unsure what was happening.
“So, she does like me … not just being her teacher, right?” Stiles asked.
“All she can talk about is ‘Stiles this’ and ‘Stiles that.’ She calls you Mr. S in school because I told her she had to. Hell, she cries when we go out on dates because she wants to come too,” Derek stated, shifting his weight some as the angle started to pull at his ribs.
“I thought she cried because …” Stiles stopped himself, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. “I thought she was crying because she thought I was stealing you.”
“You’re worried about that?” Derek asked. “Stiles, I wouldn’t have asked you to move in with us if Natalia had a problem. I wouldn’t keep that from you.”
Stiles vaguely nodded, a small frown still tugging at his lips.
“We’d work it out as a family,” Derek stated, smiling when Stiles looked up at him in surprise.
“A family,” Stiles laughed a little, excitement getting the better of him. “I like the sound of that,” he softly stated, leaning back onto the floor, his outstretched hands pulling Derek down on top of him.
Derek moved his forearms to cradle Stiles’ head, his fingertips playing with a few strands of Stiles’ hair. He tried not to smirk at the disarray of crayons scattered across the floor—knowing that for once he wasn’t going to mind cleaning them up.
“You’re sure about this?” Stiles asked as he moved a hand to gently caress Derek’s beard. “That you’re ready—”
“I’m ready to not just have you in my life, but to share it with you—every part of it. I want this Stiles—I want you.”
“So do I,” Stiles affirmed. “I want it all, big guy,” he fondly added. “The house, the white picket fence, the dog. You and Nat. I know what it means, for you to even ask me. And I meant what I said to Nat—I’m not going anywhere.”
Derek smiled as he closed the gap between them, small tears of joy prickling at his eyes as he treasured the feeling of Stiles against his body and in his arms—as he thought about the ring he had purchased last week, still hiding in his sock drawer (because Derek wasn’t original when it came to hiding spots).
Stiles released a giddy laugh in between their kisses, almost forgetting to keep his voice down, not wishing to wake Nat.
It was Natalia that let out the loud shriek of joy and excitement when they both told her the next morning. She hugged Stiles and refused to let him go for a record time before she finally released him. She took Stiles’ drawing from the table and moved to hang it next to her own on the fridge.
And Derek was right. Nat wasn’t even upset about her broken crayons.