Archive of Our Own

“Stiles, what’s a valentine?”

The random question from Eli made Stiles pause in their joint task of slathering rolls with butter. Eli kneeled on a tall stool next to him at the kitchen island, unruly curls falling into his eyes, and there was more butter on his elbows than the blade of his plastic knife.

As Stiles debated where he should land on the history of a martyred Roman saint to the decline of capitalism, he noticed that Derek had frozen across from them where he’d been chopping up the makings of a salad. Stiles was certain that he heard the cracking of metal as Derek slowly looked up to see how he would answer his son.

Eli was five now which came with boundless curiosity and an endless stream of whats, whys, and hows. He had a grin that could get him out of any trouble and an I’m judging you face that rivaled his father’s. But he also had the sweetest laugh and was always willing to share his toys.

Stiles was in Beacon Hills for a week, thanks to being sent by the Bureau to conduct witness interviews an hour south. He was over at the Hales’ for dinner, which was something he tried to do when he got to come back home. His dad typically joined him, but he was currently stuck doing overtime at the station. He had become something of a father figure for Derek and helped out with Eli when he could.

The first time Stiles met Eli, the little guy was nearly three years old. Eli sat in the lobby of Allan’s Auto Body Repairs, a legion of action figures and dinosaurs surrounding him on the floor, and he smiled up at him, eyes bright and trusting like he recognized Stiles somehow, before offering him a velociraptor.

Stiles had known of Eli’s existence long before then. Word would have traveled to him eventually, even with the pack disbursed all over the globe. But his dad was the first to inform him that Derek Hale was back in town, and he had an infant son in tow.

That Derek didn’t tell him himself had stung in more ways than one. Stiles had stayed in touch with him when they all parted ways after helping Scott defeat Monroe. Stiles kept him updated on his adventures at Stanford and Derek let him know when he decided to move back to New York. There were countless random texts, memes, and late night calls in which they teased each other, encouraged each other, and got to know each other without the ever present threat of imminent death.

Not that the evil had vanished from Beacon Hills entirely. But the knowledge that a true alpha and an evolved Hale protected the land seemed to ward off the worst of it.

With the few times they did have to return to Beacon Hills for some monster of the week, it became harder and harder to act like they hated each other. Because they really didn’t.

It was during his junior year of undergrad when they conquered a school of sirens that tried to seduce the entirety of the city’s Fire Department. But after they celebrated their success and Derek returned to New York, he went radio silent. He wouldn’t answer Stiles’ calls and respond to his texts. Stiles prided himself on being a person who didn’t give up easily, but after too many months of agonizing silence, he quit trying to reach him.

When his dad broke the news that Derek had returned as a father, Stiles was so heartbroken that he didn’t go home for over two years. It was easier that way. Not having to face Derek. See him happy with someone else. Watching someone else have what he so desperately wanted ever since he was too young to have it.

But of course, the day he returned with a degree and Academy certification under his belt and a DC address on his driver’s license, Scott had him pick up the jeep from the shop in exchange for using it while he was home. And failed to inform him that the shop was also Derek’s place of employment.

Stiles instantly recognized it for the set up that it was, and the shock of seeing Eli had quickly been overshadowed by the shock of seeing Derek for the first time in years, still gorgeous in an unfair way even as he and his white tank top were covered in motor oil. Like he was ripped straight out of one of Stiles’ many wet dreams.

The way he caught Eli effortlessly when the boy jumped at him and then settled him on his hip like he weighed nothing was also unfair. The way Eli nuzzled into Derek’s neck and Derek answered with a strong hand smoothing over the curve of his little back was even more so. The look of utter pleading on Derek’s face was something he had never seen before, and Stiles knew at that moment that he could not hold any ill will against him for this. Not for Eli.

Stiles flailed when Eli poked him with the tip of his knife when he didn’t receive an answer quick enough.

His own butter knife clattered to the ground noisily, and he clutched his arm to his chest with a dramatic and childish, “Ouch! That hurt!”

Derek would instantly know it was a lie, and while Eli was too young to exercise the werewolf skill to detect it, he knew Stiles well enough to recognize when he was being silly.

“I didn’t stick you that hard,” he denied with a grin and mischievous eyes.

“Yah huh! Look at it,” Stiles said as held his arm under Eli’s nose. “Am I bleeding? Derek, get me a bandaid! I’m gonna bleed out!”

“Stiles, you do not need a bandaid,” Derek sighed as he tossed a dish towel at him to clean the traces of butter from his arm and old Stanford tshirt.

Eli snickered, even as Derek zeroed on him to sternly warn him not to aim knives at people, even plastic ones, and then held out his hand for the utensil.

It was still a bit strange for Stiles to have a front row seat to Derek in daddy mode. He was a business owner now, after buying the shop from Mr. Allan and rebranding it as Hale Auto. He was an active member of an HOA and the PTA. He looked good just on the other side of 30. Too good. Inhumanly good in one of those stupid henleys that still fit him like a second skin. He had settled into a semi normal, semi supernatural evil free life and it was beautiful to witness.

It helped that Eli was a pretty cool kid who got a kick out of Stiles’ antics and oftentimes joined in.

It hadn’t taken much to fall back into the normality of having Derek in his life again. The endless banter and the lingering looks they both pretended not to see all remained, as did the way they could easily stand in each other’s corner as a solid and trusted presence. They still walked along a tightrope of unresolved tension, but Derek was a dad now and Eli was his rightful top priority.

Surprisingly, there was no someone else. Derek never shared too much information about Eli’s mother, but Stiles knew that she was a werewolf, and like Derek, she had never planned for kids. She never wanted to stay in one place long enough to lay down roots which was at odds with raising a child. But she sent birthday and Christmas gifts to Eli every year from wherever she happened to be in the world. And Stiles couldn’t decide if that made it easier or harder for Eli and Derek.

Stiles lived across the country, but once he met Eli, it was impossible to stay away. Even when he couldn’t make a trip back home, he would facetime the Hales to check up on them, or listen to Eli babble about random things to distract himself from a tough case as Derek occasionally translated with Eli perched on his lap, or to sing Happy Birthday when he couldn’t be there for Eli’s fourth birthday party. He had been the one to receive a gift when Eli was finally able to say Stiles instead of Diles. God forbid the kid ever find out his birth name.

Derek and Eli had become a bright spot in his life that could easily be shadowed by his career, and he regretted the time he missed out on when Eli was first born. But he was very glad to be a part of their lives now.

Stiles cleaned himself up with the towel and then did the same to Eli who was a much bigger mess and squirmed around the entire time.

“Now do you want me to answer your question or not?” He said once Derek took their tray of rolls, some of which were more butter than bread, and stuck them in the oven.

“Yes please,” Eli chimed, suddenly turning towards Stiles to give him his full attention as he moved to sit on his bottom on the stool, little legs swinging from the edge of the seat and toes steadily bumping into Stiles’ leg like a metronome.

Stiles decided to save the ancient history for a later date, not that Eli wasn’t bright enough to follow, but rather it was a tangent Stiles couldn’t let himself go off on if they wanted to eat dinner that night.

So he explained that a valentine was someone you cared about and with whom you celebrated Valentine’s Day, which was in just three days. It was a day to express your love by giving them gifts or spending time with them.

He came up short when trying to name a single couple with a healthy relationship in Eli’s life, which was utterly tragic. So he went with fiction.

“You know Simba and Nala, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“What about Rapunzel and Flynn Rider?”

“Yes!”

“Peter Parker and MJ?”

“Duh!”

“Captain America and Bucky Barnes?”

“Stiles.”

He whipped his head around to look at an exasperated Derek. Eli aimed one of those judging expressions at their creator for interrupting what he likely took as a fun game of Stiles testing his knowledge of some of his favorite characters.

Stiles shrugged innocently and turned back to Eli.

“They are each other’s valentine,” he explained. “Because they love each other.”

He watched as the little cogs turned behind Eli’s eyes before he accepted the new knowledge bestowed upon him with a satisfied smirk.

“Do you have one?”

Stiles should have seen that question coming, but he hadn’t. Derek standing right there, slowly mixing the salad together, was the only thing that kept him from lying.

“I’ve never had one actually,” he admitted. “If you don’t count Scott in first grade. Which I don’t obviously. There was also that time during senior year of undergrad when I bought myself half a dozen heart shaped cupcakes and ate them all while listening to Celine Dion’s All By Myself on repeat. I don’t count that either.”

He could feel Derek’s glare burning into the side of his head, but thankfully Eli demanded his attention with a frown in his curled lips and brows.

“You love Scott?”

“What?” Stiles squawked, both surprised and impressed that was the deduction a five year old would make. “No! I mean, yes! But like a brother. Not like Simba loves Nala.”

That sent Stiles down the rabbit hole of explaining the difference between a romantic valentine and a platonic one.

Before he was aware of it and could stop it, he was off on a self pitying tangent about being closer to 30 than 20 and never having a reason to celebrate the ridiculous holiday. The words lonely and loveless definitely did not exit his mouth once he worked himself up.

“I was a strange kid,” he ranted. “I’m not ashamed to admit it. But I turned things around in my late teen years. Grew out my hair and wore jeans that actually fit. On some days in college, I could have been called objectively good looking. Though slightly on the nerd side of the spectrum. Now look at me, Eli,” he took a step back and spread his arms out wide. “I have abs! I can grow parts of a beard! I have a permit to carry a deadly weapon! I am a hot guy!”

Eli blinked up at him with bewilderment and a little sadness across his face. He may not be a lie detector just yet and scraped knees took hours to heal rather than seconds, but he was very sensitive to the emotions of others. Which was just great, Stiles had the sympathy of a person who just learned how to tie his shoes last week.

“Daddy, you should be Stiles’ valentine.”

All of the air left Stiles’ lungs at once.

He found it ironic that after all of the near death experiences he had miraculously survived since the night Scott lost his inhaler in the woods, this was going to be the thing that took him out.

Again, he was a bit impressed by the solution Eli came up with even though Stiles hadn’t intended for this to be a problem he needed to solve. A part of him felt touched. But a bigger part was mortified and craved death.

He dared a peek over in Derek’s direction. The man’s face was pale and his knuckles were just as white where he gripped the edge of the counter.

Eli’s eyes darted back and forth between them, waiting on one of them to speak.

“Eli,” Derek finally broke the silence. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“But you love Stiles!” Eli proclaimed as he got back to his knees, palms spread over the countertop mirroring his dad.

Stiles’ heart skipped as Derek’s blue eyes widened before he answered through clenched teeth, “Like a fly buzzing around my ear.”

“Hey!” Stiles cried, because that stung.

A hint of guilt flashed across Derek’s face just as Eli leapt onto the island and crawled towards his dad. Derek snatched the knife he’d used for the salad out his son’s path in the nick of time. Stiles tried to pull him back by his shirttail but the kid didn’t budge.

“And you have muscles, daddy, and a beard and- and you have claws.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles and Derek said in harmonized unison. Stiles’ tone was on the verge of shrill laughter and Derek’s was on the side of resigned misery.

Stiles had to give the pip squeak credit for using his unhinged rant as justification for this bombardment. Any other time he would have rolled on the ground laughing at the implication that Eli’s dad was a hot guy too. Obviously, he was. The hottest of hot guys. But this was just not the way he envisioned his night going. He wasn’t mentally prepared for this.

He had spent the past couple of years compartmentalizing his feelings for Derek. He was fine with the way things were. The urge to want more was not something he allowed himself to think about. Eli was taking a baseball bat to the glass box he had Derek sorted into in the corner of his mind, and every emotion and memory he kept repressed came rushing to the surface.

Stiles had thought they had actually become friends while he was in college, thought they were on their way to something more.

After defeating the sirens, Derek had been drunk on wolfsbane laced whiskey and Stiles on tequila, and Derek had wanted to kiss him, had come close to doing it if not for Scott interrupting and being the world’s worst cock block- kiss block? Stiles thought that they were finally going to start the something that had been building between them.

He still remembered the exact way Derek had looked back then, just as breathtakingly handsome but less bearded and more stubbly, how he smelled, like the deep spice of the whiskey and a crisp summer day, the way his eyes shined as they bore into Stiles’ as they leaned closer to each other before his well past buzzed bestfriend barged in asking if they needed top ups.

Stiles had hoped they would talk about it afterwards or finally go through with it without any interruptions. But Derek went back to New York the next day and then they didn’t speak for three years.

“Daddy, pleeeease!”

“E, please stop,” Stiles begged weakly as he tugged on Eli’s shirt again to no avail.

He shook Stiles off and continued his verbal assault on Derek. “Have you had a valentine before?”

“No, but-”

“Stiles can be yours!”

Stiles got both hands around the boy and dragged him back toward him with all of his strength. He got a hand over Eli’s mouth for a one and a half seconds before he felt the slick, smooth surface of his front teeth and instantly let him go. Eli lunged at him then and a skirmish commenced.

“I just wanna help!” Eli’s sharp knee connected with Stiles’ abdomen, “Don’t you think we should have discussed this privately beforehand?” Stiles held one of Eli’s arms over the boy’s head as he reached for Stiles’ hair with the other one. “Daddy would be the best valentine!” Stiles started a tickle attack under Eli’s arms. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, kid, but this is not your decision to make!” Eli doubled over when Stiles went for his belly. “What’s enthusiasm?” His giggles were loud and as menacing as they were sweet. “Save me, baby jesus! Please save me,” Stiles looked up at the ceiling and grunted when Eli slipped off the counter onto him. “You’ll be happy, Stiles! Daddy too!”

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

Stiles and Eli froze and then moved as one, like something out of a Stephen King movie, to gawk at Derek.

Eli was completely unperturbed to be hanging off the island, just one foot left connecting with the counter top, trusting Stiles to keep him from falling to the ground. He had Stiles’ cheeks squished in between his hands, puckering Stiles’ mouth like a floundering fish.

“I’ll be your Valentine if it gets you both to stop talking,” Derek pleaded.

He still had the knife in his hand and pointed it at them before he realized what he was doing and set it to the side with a loud clack. Stiles noticed that there were dents in the handle that would align perfectly with Derek’s fingers.

“You’re joking,” Stiles mumbled. “I mean it, stop lying.”

“I’m serious.”

Stiles stared dubiously at Derek and was only jostled out of his stupor when Eli used him as a springboard to climb back onto the island.

“As a friend or…?”

Derek sighed, but Stiles could see a twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he was struggling to hold back a smile.

“I’ll take you on a date, Stiles.”

Before he could begin to freak out or even appreciate that the battle was lost as Derek started to smile in the face of Stiles’ gobsmacked silence, Derek’s eyes went wide as he shouted, “Shit!”

Then he did an about face towards the oven. The scent of something burning had hit him a couple seconds before it hit Stiles, and Stiles accepted that they wouldn’t be having rolls with dinner as a billow of smoke flew out of the oven when Derek threw open the door.

Eli didn’t seem to mind. Rather, he looked amused and very pleased with himself. He grinned as he plucked a cherry tomato from the salad bowl and tossed it into his mouth. Stiles couldn’t help but see it as yet another reason to find Derek Hale attractive. He was such a good parent, his kid ate vegetables without tears and hardcore bargaining.

God, he was so screwed.

***

Stiles spent the following days distracting himself with work. He drove back and forth to the interviews and then typed up his reports once he returned to his childhood bedroom as he waited for his dad to come home so they could have dinner together.

His dad had volunteered to watch Eli for his date with Derek. Which had not come as a surprise to him. Stiles didn’t think he ever believed that he had moved on from his feelings for Derek. The man was a trained investigator and he knew Stiles better than anyone. Stiles had an inkling that he’d secretly been waiting for this moment.

They stood side by side at the Hales’ front door, and Stiles should probably feel childish having his father tag along. But his presence was the only thing from turning into an embarrassing mess of nerves. He clutched a red gift bag and a small box, and took a deep breath as he raised his hand to knock.

The door flew open before he could make contact to reveal Eli, curls damp and already dressed in Spiderman pajamas.

Stiles could hear Derek from somewhere deep inside the house shouting at his son not to answer the door without him.

Eli yelled back, “But it’s Stiles!” Then turned back to them with a cheeky smile.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Stiles and Mr. Sheriff!”

Stiles’ dad chuckled and shook his head, surely at the fact that he would never convince Eli to call him Mr. Noah or Mr. S. Little did he know that Stiles was the reason for it. Eli heeded his opinion that Mr. Sheriff just sounded cooler.

His dad quickly ushered the boy into the house. The sun had just begun its descent below the horizon and the chilly February air was getting colder by the minute.

In the entryway between the kitchen and living room, his dad hung his jacket on the coat hook on the wall, more than familiar with the place, and he looked relaxed out of his uniform. Stiles, on the other hand, stood there feeling a bit lost and the way Eli watched him with that perma-grin was unnerving.

Stiles got a moment of reprieve when the kid dashed away to the coffee table and returned with his hands behind his back.

Then he held out his hands to present a small paper card with a heart shaped lollipop tucked inside and handed it to a startled Noah. It was an extra one left over from the set he’d made for his class, he explained, which was why he’d asked Stiles about valentines in the first place.

Stiles leaned over his dad’s shoulder to see inside the card. On the left side was a cutesy green T-Rex with pink hearts on its cheeks, and on the other, “You’re RAWRsome!” was printed in curly letters.

“This is wonderful,” his dad said, completely charmed. “I haven’t had a valentine in a really long time.”

Well, that was devastating and Stiles had to swallow back the emotions that flooded him, along with warm memories of roses in glass vases on the kitchen counter, his mom wearing beautiful dresses, and kisses pressed to both of his cheeks before she and his dad left him with the McCalls for the night.

His dad sent an appreciative glance back at him when Stiles wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a good squeeze, then he thanked Eli as the boy preened under the attention.

“I have something for you too,” Stiles spoke up and held the red bag out to Eli.

The boy hesitated to take it with a skeptical pinch in between his brow. “I thought daddy was your valentine.”

Stiles could sense his dad trying not to laugh and quickly tried to reassure Eli. “He- he is. But I wanted to get a gift for you. Just to say that I care about you too.”

Eli squinted at him before he slowly accepted the bag. While he pulled out the tissue paper and tossed it onto the floor carelessly, Stiles reached over to his dad and snatched the candy from his card. Which earned him a firm flick on the ear.

Giggles drew their attention back to Eli who had uncovered his gift, a stuffed wolf. It was the perfect size to fit into the circle of his arms, with white and gray fur and red hearts etched onto its paws.

“You like it?” Stiles smiled at him.

“Yah, Stiles. It’s soooo cute,” Eli praised, raising the wolf to his cheek to brush against the soft fur. And it was very soft, which was part of the reason Stiles chose it over a few basic bears, a cat, and of all things, a penguin. But he mostly chose it because he could just imagine the reaction it would get out of Derek.

“What do you say, Eli?”

Speak of the devil. Derek stood at the edge of the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms tucked behind his back. His chest strained the material of his deep green sweater and the fit of his jeans around his thick thighs was perfect and dangerous.

Eli thanked Stiles as he rushed forward and hugged him with an arm around his legs. Stiles petted his hair and bit his lip so as not to make a sound at the hasty yet crushing embrace. He rubbed at the back of his thigh as Eli ran off to the living room and the sheriff trailed after him with a nod in Derek’s direction.

Derek approached Stiles then, sauntering over as he gave him an obvious once over.

The dress code for the FBI had forced him to revamp his style after college. Suits, button ups, and trousers took up more space in his closet than his preferred flannels and graphic tees. Derek had told him to dress casually, so he decided to bridge the gap. He donned a brown suede jacket and black jeans with smart shoes, and he totally had not spent the entire day before shopping for all three.

Okay, so he had. Sue him. Actually celebrating Valentine’s Day with someone, let alone with the man he had been in love with for years, had not crossed his mind and he had not packed accordingly.

He made a good choice, judging by the way Derek’s eyes traced his body up and down. The man stopped when their eyes met as he stood a few feet in front of him.

“A wolf? Really?” Derek said. “How original.”

Stiles grinned. “You should be grateful that I didn’t get one for you too.”

He held out the box to Derek then. It was heart shaped, as everything tended to be for Valentine’s Day, just a little bigger than his hand and full with cheap chocolate that probably tasted like plastic.

Stiles had also looked forward to Derek’s reaction to his gift. There had been slim pickings while shopping this close to the holiday, but he managed to find the perfect one, nearly hidden in the back of a bottom shelf. The picture and message painted on top was funny and crude yet there was sincerity in it that reflected how Stiles truly felt about Derek.

But Derek just looked down at it and stared blankly. No flinching of his lips to muffle a laugh or delight flicking across his eyes. No animated brows or a frown of disappointment at the absurdity of it. The excitement in Stiles deflated.

“This is a joke,” he said awkwardly. “You’re supposed to laugh.”

Derek continued to stare before he replied, “I’m trying to decide if I want to give you the satisfaction.”

“You’re such a jerk.” Stiles shoved the box at Derek.

He juggled it with one hand as he finally let out a low chuckle.

“These…” Derek started as he moved his other arm from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of flowers, “are not a joke.”

Now it was Stiles’ turn to stare. He was sure he looked stupid with his mouth hanging open. The bouquet was a balanced mix of white and violet. White roses accented with piles of tiny, fluffy purple flowers. But the most striking part were the large purple, slightly bluish ones with stark black centers that Stiles recognized from an ancient book on warding Deaton loaned him years ago. They meant protection.

Stiles was completely normal about this. Yep. Derek taking the time to curate a bouquet for him that had meaning was totally not a big deal at all. Nope.

He was surprised that he maintained control of both his pitch and volume when he told Derek that no one had ever given him flowers before. But the smile Derek aimed at him told him that the man knew exactly how he was feeling, and he could hear exactly how fast his heart was beating.

Thankfully, he didn’t call Stiles out on it. Instead, he turned to his son and let him know that they were going to head out. Eli stood on the couch and hugged him over the back of it, the stuffed wolf dangling from his hand down Derek’s back. When Derek pressed two gentle kisses to his forehead, Stiles’ heart settled and his whole chest filled with warmth. It would never fail to amaze him how soft and affectionate Derek could be.

Stiles decided to leave his flowers on the kitchen island, not wanting them to wilt in the car. Derek chose to leave his box of chocolates in Eli’s care, playfully threatening the kid so he didn’t eat them or let Noah eat them. Derek, for one, was on a first name basis with his dad now. Which should annoy him, since Derek didn’t agree that Mr. Sheriff sounded cooler, but it mostly made him feel even warmer inside.

Outside, Stiles bypassed Derek’s safe and reliable SUV in the driveway and walked toward the jeep parked beside it. He made it all the way to the driver side door before he realized that Derek was not following. He had stopped in front of his own car.

“Oh come on, for old times sake,” he said, patting the side of the jeep and forcing himself not to flinch when something clanged underneath the hood.

Derek rolled his eyes. “I honestly don’t know how Scott keeps that thing running.”

Stiles took a moment to appreciate the black leather bomber jacket that Derek had put on. It was like a less rebellious version of the one that had caused Stiles’ bisexual awakening when he was sixteen, but it was just as devastating. Even more so because of the grown and adjusted man wearing it.

“Oh please,” he scoffed. “Scott told me about the on the house services you provided last year when the transmission went out. Again.”

Derek opened his front door and said, “I have some things in my car that we’ll need. So get in.”

“Fiiiiine,” Stiles whined and stomped over to the SUV.

Derek looked over his shoulder at him. “You’re worse than Eli.”

“Not a wise thing to say if you’re trying to get in my pants by the end of the night.”

Derek’s eyes went wide, and Stiles noticed that the tips of his ears were red and he knew that it wasn’t due to the cold.

“That was a joke also,” he said.

“No, it wasn’t,” Derek countered definitively as he climbed into his car.

“Ugh! Sometimes I hate that you can do that.”

Until the flowers, the Derek that Stiles knew was not someone who made romantic gestures, let alone grand ones. So he had expected Derek to let him take the lead and decide what they would do for their date. But Derek had told him that he actually had a few ideas. Which was mind boggling.

Derek hadn’t informed him of where they were going so he sat back and tried to tame his anticipation.

He took them to the outskirts of the city, full of rundown warehouses and buildings that hadn’t had tenants in years. Derek’s old loft wasn’t far from where they ended up parking. The building was without any signage or markings, and Stiles jokingly asked if Derek had brought him here to kill him.

Derek didn’t bother responding as he led them to a tucked away glass door on the first level. The vinyl logo on the door was small, nearly hidden down by the long handle, and read Get A Clue with a key underneath.

They were going to do an Escape Room, and Stiles was excited because he had never done one. He hadn’t even known this place existed in Beacon Hills. He was also pleasantly surprised by Derek’s choice.

For their game, they were investigators of an Art Heist, given one hour to determine the location of invaluable stolen art pieces. The place was so well decorated, it looked like an actual museum, just on a smaller, more intimate scale. Stiles was awed by the thought that had obviously been put into it, and how it was so at odds with the sketchy exterior of the building.

Due to his training, he noticed things out of place or missing, so they quickly found the puzzles they needed to solve. He had always known that Derek was well read, but he was blindsided by the man’s knowledge of art history. Derek guessed several clues that allowed them to skip over some steps that would have eaten up their time.

They worked well together, only squabbling a little when they couldn’t get a directional combination lock open, both of them forgetting the warning in their intro video which told them to reset the lock each try by pushing the base up into the lock apparatus twice.

Stiles forgot all about the momentary frustration when they had to crawl through a short tunnel, decorated like the air duct the thieves used to break into the museum, to get to the next room and he got to oogle Derek’s glorious ass when he insisted on going through first.

After escaping the room with enough time left on the clock that they almost beat the reigning record, Stiles didn’t even have the chance to feel deflated that their date was already nearing its end. When Derek had said that he had a few ideas for what they could do on their date, Stiles assumed that meant he would narrow them down to one. But Derek surprised him yet again, revealing that they were moving onto the next part.

This time, Stiles was able to guess where they were headed before the bright glow of the large sign with a ball and twin pins on either side came into view.

The bowling alley had been in operation for a good twenty years and it had always been a place for the youth to dwell. Stiles had spent many Saturdays in middle school and high school there with Scott, but he hadn’t been back since the summer before he left for Stanford. The age of the building was evident in the underlying musky smell that was masked by cleaning products and fried foods. If it bothered Derek, he didn’t mention it.

Derek was laughably bad at bowling. It took great effort to control his evolved strength and not send fourteen pound balls through the ceiling. So more times than not, his balls went slugging into the gutter as his concentration on the force behind the throw distracted from the direction in which he aimed. On a few occasions, for just half a second, his eyes would flash bright gold as the neon lights hung around the building refracted off of them. Which often coincided with the death glares he shot at Stiles each time he offered to turn on the bumpers for him and completely diminished the impact of said glares.

Not that Stiles was hitting strikes left and right. He was rusty, and even though Derek wasn’t doing any better, Stiles’s mind only had a single cognizant thought and that was the sight of Derek’s backside each time he stood at the line.

They paused their shameful game to grab some concessions that reminded Stiles of some of his best days before the supernatural became one of the biggest players in his life. Crispy fries covered in golden cheese, pizza sticks with stringy mozzarella, and the best root beer float he had ever had the honor of drinking which got Derek smiling again.

With bellies full and a couple glittery, pop art stickers from a quarter vending machine as mementos to remember this night, Stiles thought that would be the end of it. But as they went back to the car, hands bumping into each other as they walked close together, Derek told him that they had one more stop.

“There’s more??” Stiles yelled into the quiet starry night, as he all but skipped to the passenger side door.

Derek took them to the preserve and drove as far deep into the woods until getting back out would be an issue. He took two bags out of the truck of the car, one a stuffed sports duffle bag and the other a long, narrow black case and threw them over his shoulder, ignoring Stiles’ request to hold one of them which earned him an eyeroll. They walked the rest of the way to the edge of the cliff overlooking the city, and Stiles tried not to think about the damage being wreaked upon his new shoes as he followed blindly behind Derek.

The city and its sparking lights contrasting the dark night looked like something out of a postcard. Stiles had always appreciated Beacon Hills a little bit more from up there.

A massive tree was turned on its side a ways from the edge, and Derek brought his bags there to set up. He opened the duffle and pulled out a couple electric lanterns which he lit for Stiles’ benefit.

Stiles watched as he opened the other bag and took out dozens of metal poles and began to put the pieces together. It didn’t take long for Stiles to recognize what it was.

“A telescope?” He asked, coming to stand right next to him and nearly getting a rod through his gut. But he didn’t even care because, “Derek, are we moon gazing??”

Derek chuckled and continued working. “You have Eli to thank. He went through a phase last year.”

“Must be the wolf thing,” Stiles said, unable to resist and it was just easier to deflect with humor.

Because at the moment, he was not sure how much more his heart could take. Derek was outdoing any and all expectations he’d had for their date. He should have been taking photographic evidence all night, because no one who knew Derek would ever believe this.

He was patient as Stiles asked a dozen questions about each knob and button of the telescope. It was almost like he was used to that kind of interrogation, like that from his son.

After taking a few minutes to station the telescope a couple yards from the cliff and making sure everything was in the correct positions, Derek beckoned Stiles over with a sweet, “Take a look.”

The February moon was only half lit by the light of the sun, the other side was masked in complete darkness. It was breathtaking even without the telescope. With it, Stiles felt like he had the sensory enhancements of a werewolf, able to see each demarcation of the craters and hills disrupting the moon’s shining surface.

It was difficult to focus on the beauty as Derek kept a gentle hand on the low of his back and his laugh was deep and low every time Stiles’ let out a gasp.

Stiles missed his touch when Derek removed his hand so he could rearrange the telescope slightly and then peer into it. After a few moments, he stepped aside again, a grin on his face with an air of anticipation as he said, “There’s Jupiter.”

As Stiles peered through the scope once again and took in the faint reddish glow of the small circle at the end of the lense, he didn’t even have the capacity to gasp. He was stunned silent.

Derek Hale had found the gas giant amongst the infinite stars and was sharing it with him.

If Stiles wasn’t already in love with him, he’d fall right then and there.

They stood together on the cliff for a while, Derek occasionally shifting the telescope to find another stellar body in the vast sky, including the dots that were four of Jupiter’s moons.

Just as Stiles started to regret not having brought a thicker coat, Derek distracted him by revealing that he had one more gift for him. Stiles shivered as he took a seat on the tree and waited in the near blue light of the lanterns.

He zoned out, moments of their date flashing through his mind on a reel, and he only came to when a thick blanket was placed over his shoulders. Of course, Derek had come prepared. He was such a dad.

Stiles smiled at him as he walked around the log to sit beside him. He held a white rectangular box out to Stiles, who nudged into his side and then remained pressed there, reaping the benefits of both the blanket and Derek’s unnatural warmth.

“You did not need to get me anything else,” Stiles said even as he set the box in his lap and then lifted the lid with cold fingers.

Inside were six cupcakes, clearly homemade. They were a bit messy, covered in clumpy and uneven pink icing. One had a red heart that looked like it started off promising and then more and more icing was piled onto it until the figure lost its intended shape. A couple had illegible scribbles on them, and the others were in such a state that the decorator seemed to have given up and decided to drown them in sprinkles.

“Wow,” Stiles said, and he was both amused and touched. “Eli did a fantastic job.”

Derek’s silence had him turning away from the cupcakes to peer over at him.

“I did those,” Derek told him through tight lips. “They’re not heart-shaped, but… I tried.”

It was a really good thing that Stiles had not had anything alcoholic to drink that night. If not, the waterworks probably would have started then.

Stiles had been given cupcakes on Valentine’s Day, and he wasn’t alone.

“They’re perfect,” he said, hushed and sincere. “Thank you. Seriously. These would have been more than enough to make me happy. But you’ve done all of this. You took me on three dates in one tonight.”

Derek lowered his head, looking bashful. “I wanted to make up for all the Valentine’s Days we missed out on.”

Stiles looked back down at the effort Derek had put into this gift and said, “Fatherhood has worked wonders on you, Derek Hale.”

He was quiet for several moments which made Stiles turn back to him and nudge him until he met Stiles’ eyes.

“It really has,” he eventually said and then took a deep breath before continuing. “Look, I know we never talked about it. But I have to say this. I don’t regret Eli. He makes me better in every way. He is the best thing I have ever done, the very best part of me. I could never regret him… But I regret us. And what we could have been.”

Stiles didn’t need to be a werewolf to hear the truth in Derek’s words. He kept one hand secure around his cupcakes and reached out with the other to grasp Derek’s. Derek was quick to place his other hand on top of their joined ones, rubbing warmth back into Stiles’ fingers.

“We can be that now,” Stiles told him surely.

Derek stared down at their hands as a small, hopeful smile reached his lips.

“I should’ve kissed you that night,” he said. “I remember exactly what you were wearing. How your hair was longer and you kept brushing it out of your face. The way your lips looked redder because you had been biting them all night. I wanted to kiss you so badly.”

Stiles had always wondered how much Derek remembered, if he was alone in this. He couldn’t quite find the words to describe how it felt to know that he wasn’t. So he chose action.

He leaned into Derek and caught his bottom lip in between his own. It was a firm yet gentle press of their mouths, and Derek let out a happy sort of sigh which added to the breathlessness which overtook Stiles. It was like that of gazing up at the moon through the lens of a telescope but a thousand times grander.

Stiles moved back, only an inch or so, so he could try to find a way for air to reach his lungs.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a decade,” he gasped.

Derek’s voice was just as breathless as he asked, “Worth the wait?”

Stiles didn’t bother with an answer. He just leaned back into him and kissed him again, open and searching. Derek’s hands coming up to cup his face nearly made him shed tears again as they learned each other’s mouths and sweet sounds that escaped them. It felt like a door to the rest of Stiles’ life had just been opened before him, and he was able to peek inside and see all of the happiness that awaited him.

Distantly, he was aware of the sound of a phone vibrating. But there was nothing that would break him away from Derek who seemed in agreement and they both ignored it.

It wasn’t until his own phone started vibrating against his thigh that they both stopped. Both of their phones ringing couldn’t mean anything good.

His dad’s name flashed across the screen of his phone. He forced himself not to panic as he answered and then listened as his dad explained that Eli had had a nightmare and was asking for Derek.

Derek didn’t need to press his ear closer to Stiles’ phone to hear every word. He too could hear Eli’s cries in the background as he dad tried to assure them that the boy was okay, just a bit spooked because he had forgotten Derek was out for the evening.

Derek was up and already throwing things back into the bags before Stiles ended the call.

He broke several speed limits to get them back to the house in half the time, and Stiles didn’t have the heart to tell him to calm down. He just kept on hand securely around his door handle and the other on top of Derek’s thigh, hopefully offering some comfort.

Eli stood in the open doorway before they made it up the sidewalk, tear tracks dried on his face but eyes welling up pitifully at the sight of his father. He reached for Derek who immediately scooped him up into his arms and carried him into the house and down the hall.

His dad met him in the entryway, guilt on his face.

“I’m sorry for calling,” he said. “He was just inconsolable.”

“No, you did the right thing,” Stiles promised. “Thanks again, dad, for watching him.”

A glance at the closed door of Eli’s bedroom told them that it would be a while before the father and son duo came back out. It was after midnight, so his dad grabbed his jacket off the hook and swung it over his shoulders.

“You going back with me, kiddo?”

Stiles looked down the hall again before he said, “I think I’m gonna stay a while.”

His dad grinned while zipping up his coat. “You had a good time, I take it?”

“We did. A really good time.”

“I’m happy to hear that. It’s about time you two put an end to this long game. It was getting pretty exhausting to watch. Embarrassing even.”

Stiles scoffed and pushed at his dad’s arm, inching him towards the door. “Have a good night, dad.”

“I mean it,” the man said, resisting Stiles’ ushering. “You two deserve to be happy, son, and I think you make each other happy.”

That made him stop pushing at his dad’s arm, and instead, he squeezed it gently as a smile spread across his face. “Yes, he makes me very happy.”

“That’s all a father can ask for,” his dad smiled too and pulled him into a tight hug before he opened the door. As he walked to the jeep, Stiles called out that he should text to let him know that he made it home.

Eli’s door was still shut, but Stiles knew that Derek was aware of his presence in the house.

His flowers were still on the kitchen island, but his dad had found a glass pitcher to put them in. He walked over to them and trailed his finger over a few of the soft petals as he thought of his mom and how much she would have liked Derek and Eli.

He was distracted by a few empty cupcake wrappers scattered along the counter, and he shook his head in amused disappointment that his dad had eaten more than one or had let a five year old do so. Derek’s box of chocolate was also there and it looked suspiciously like it had been opened. There were a few dishes in the sink which he set about washing after pulling up a Wiki How article on pressed flowers on his phone.

As he wiped down the counter afterwards, Derek came into the living room, still holding a sleeping Eli and carefully sat down on the couch.

Stiles shouldn’t have been surprised that their date ended the way that it had. Derek didn’t leave Eli alone often outside of kindergarten, perks of owning your own business. The little guy was very attached to his dad.

“He okay?”

Derek nodded. “He wouldn’t let me put him down.”

He patted the spot next to them on the couch, and Stiles’ obeyed the silent request without hesitation, lured by the sickeningly sweet picture the two of them made.

Stiles gently lifted Eli’s feet from the couch, sat down in their place, and then placed them in his lap. The boy’s head rested against Derek’s chest, nose tilted up toward Derek’s neck, and he clutched the stuffed wolf Stiles had given him in his arms.

They sat quietly for a little while, Stiles afraid to break the serenity that had settled over them. Being quiet wasn’t his forte, but with Derek, the silence was easy and comfortable. He wasn’t the one to end up breaking the silence.

“Last month,” Derek started, his tone somber. “I was doing some work in the backyard. I kept going in and out of the house. Eli was inside, playing with the lego set you sent him for Christmas.”

Stiles smiled at that. He had been sorry that he couldn’t come home to help him build it. His smile slipped away as Derek continued.

“I wasn’t paying attention and I forgot to shut the door at one point,” he said. “A coyote got into the house and… I completely lost it when I heard Eli screaming. It was so close to him, Stiles. I shifted right there in front of him. I would have killed the thing if it hadn’t run off.”

Stiles took Derek’s hand into his and rested their joined hands over Eli’s legs.

“It was the first time he saw my full shift, and he was more afraid of me than he was of the coyote. So terrified that he wouldn’t come to me for hours afterward. He’s been having nightmares ever since.”

Derek’s grip on his hand was tight, almost painful, and Stiles traced the knuckle of his thumb over and over to soothe him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, trying not to sound accusatory. “I would’ve come home.”

“You were finishing up on that big case, the one you finally got to take the lead on. I didn’t want to bother you.”

That case was the reason he hadn’t been able to come home for Christmas. But he would have if he knew that Derek or Eli needed him.

He used his free hand to turn Derek’s crestfallen face towards him. “You and Eli are never a bother to me.”

Derek looked back at him like he too was seeing that door which allowed him the vision of a new future, one that he had never imagined for himself or thought he deserved.

“When do you go back to DC?” He asked softly.

“My flight leaves tomorrow at noon.”

The disappointment in Derek’s eyes was undoubtedly reflected in his own. It blew spectacularly that they were getting this special night together, and then Stiles would fly back to the other side of the country the very next day.

His brain was already trying to recall his schedule and workload for the next few months, thoughts racing a hundred miles per second, hunting for anything to say that would erase that look from Derek’s beautiful face. But he didn’t have to say anything when Eli snuffled cutely in his sleep and cuddled the stuffed wolf to his chest.

Derek looked down at his son and brightened a little. Stiles reached out to run his fingers through Eli’s hair, and that made Derek smile.

“Soon, he’ll be too big for me to hold like this,” he said.

Stiles pulled his hand back when Eli scrunched his nose, not wanting to wake him. He moved it down to Derek’s forearm where he caressed the warm skin.

“I still can’t believe you’re someone’s parent,” he told him.

Derek shook with a silent huff of a laugh. “Me neither.”

“It’s a good look on you,” Stiles said and leaned his head over onto his shoulder. “Seriously, so hot. You are a smokin’ hot guy, Der.”

Derek turned to him, surely with something snarky or sarcastic to say on the tip of tongue, and Stiles took advantage of the tiny space between them to close it and he kissed Derek for the third time that night.

Before it could turn serious, Derek gave him one final peck and then withdrew. “Let’s not while my son is right here.”

Stiles was pleased by the regretful tone of his voice, so he placed a kiss on his cheek and then settled back down with his head on Derek’s shoulder.

“I have to thank him for coercing you into being my valentine,” he said, a smile on his lips.

Derek nuzzled into Stiles’ hair before he responded, “Me too. He finally gave me the push I needed. I could never bring myself to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“How much you matter to me. How much I care about you. How you’ve always been…an anchor for me.”

Stiles let that revelation settle into his bones. It was confirmation of something he suspected a long time ago, something he thought could have been true once, but couldn’t have been any longer after all the time they spent apart.

“I didn’t realize that what I felt for you was more than friendship until you were packing for college,” Derek told him. “You had these big dreams and I never wanted to stand in the way, so I didn’t say anything. Then…Eli happened and everything changed.”

“For the better,” Stiles was quick to say. “Without Eli, you probably would have made me wait another ten years.”

He felt the wind of Derek’s laugh across his hair and it was a feeling he could get used to but would never allow himself to, just so he could cherish each and every time they were this close.

“I think we were inevitable,” Derek said.

“That may be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me. And that’s beating out the time you threatened to rip my throat out with your teeth.”

“You will never let me forget that, will you?”

“Oh no,” Stiles grinned, pleased with the one he could hear in Derek’s voice. “I’m gonna use it anytime I need to guilt trip you into doing something I want.”

“You won’t need to guilt me.”

Jesus, this side of Derek should come with a warning sign. This domestic, romantic, expressive, mellow, and genuinely happy Derek. Stiles’ heart may have been weak when it came to incredibly thoughtful dates and life altering first kisses in the dark, but it was unbreakable when it came to the extent of what he felt for Derek. He, too, believed that they were inevitable, like soulmates.

“Stiles? You’re here?”

Eli spoke up, his voice was rough from sleep and crying, and all of their attention was drawn to him. He didn’t even open his eyes, using his other senses to recognize Stiles.

“Yah, buddy. I’m here,” Stiles said, smiling down at him before lifting his head to look up at Derek. “I think I’m gonna stay the night, if that’s okay with you?”

Derek nodded, but Eli was still more sleep than not and hummed what Stiles took as an affirmative.

Derek stood then, cradling Eli in his arms. “Come on,” he said, “Let’s try to put this one to bed.”

Stiles watched in a state of bliss he didn’t know could exist as Derek started towards the hall.

He knew that they would need to talk. They’d have to figure out how to work with this long distance thing. But honestly, Stiles didn’t have to give it too much thought to know that if this is what he had waiting for him, Derek and his son, it wouldn’t be much of a hardship to come back home for good.

They would have to have a serious discussion about how exactly Derek wanted him to fit into Eli’s life and what role he wanted Stiles to play in it, if the way things already were needed to change at all. Stiles loved Eli and Eli loved him. From the moment they met, he knew that he would always do everything in his power to make sure that the kid was safe and cared for.

They would have to talk, and Stiles would tell Derek that he loved him too. He was okay with waiting until the morning, because he knew that it wouldn’t change by then, or ever, and he was certain that Derek would say it right back.

He was slow to follow Derek, stuck in thought and on the way he held Eli in his arms like the little treasure he was.

“Stiles, didn’t you say something about me getting into your pants?”

That and the grin Derek sent his way snapped him right out of his thoughts. He shot up and was hot on Derek’s heels all the way down the hall.

All of the talking could definitely wait.