Archive of Our Own

See the thing is Stiles is hardcore stuck on Derek. He’s so stuck that no matter how hard he tries to get over the glory that makes up Derek Hale and his flaws, the attraction still slams through him like a ton of bricks and it gets that much worse.

                There are only a few things lately that has kept Stiles’ mind somewhat off of Derek and that’s going out, dancing with random dudes (who may or may not resemble Derek in anyway), and just letting everything go while hanging out at the Jungle on Friday nights. Taking shots and chasing it down with some of the dirtiest dancing that Stiles has ever encountered with men he doesn’t give a damn about? What could go wrong? It had worked the last few months, to you know, lull the burning heat. Stiles snorted at that. Okay it had tempered his lust and he could be in the same room as Derek without doing something stupid.

                Plus tonight, Scott had promised that he would look out for him. Meaning Stiles could get as drunk and as stupid as he wanted because Scott was going to get him home safely and protect him from making any mistakes that could possibly scar him for the rest of his life. Tonight was going to be awesome.

{ | }

                Stiles woke up to the blaring of his alarm clock. Who the fuck decided to make alarm clocks so loud that felt like a pick axe to the back of the head? Couldn’t there have been a more pleasant sound rather than this incessant beeping? Stiles attempted to roll over to crawl out of bed but that was a bad idea. Mainly because his shoes were on his bed still but because one was digging into his hip and holy hell, when did he start wearing steel toed converse because it shouldn’t hurt this bad to roll over on a pair of shoes.

                With a frustrated growl, Stiles reached down and threw his shoes across the room. Last night was a really bad idea. Scott might have ditched him at the Jungle for Allison but Stiles really should have stopped after the third drink, even the stopping after the forth would have been good. But no, he had to go and have just one more.

                It was totally worth it though. Stiles couldn’t remember the last time he had had so much fun and he had spent the entire night dancing sandwiched between two guys who didn’t give two licks that he was human. Okay they gave a few licks but that doesn’t really matter. Everyone was happy last night. Stiles was very happy with the things he could actually remember. Admittedly, he didn’t remember much but he knew that it was a nice change of pace. To be happy instead of running on the fumes of adrenaline, that wasn’t something he felt in a long time.

                “Stiles!”

                Stiles closed his eyes tightly trying to ignore his Dad’s yells. If he didn’t move maybe his Dad wouldn’t see him? Yeah right. If Stiles didn’t get up in a minute his Dad would be up here and smell the bar still lingering on his clothes and skin.

                “I’m up!” Stiles croaked out and regretted it immediately. He needed drugs and he needed them now. Crawling out of bed and towards the shower Stiles yelled about showering before heading down. He dug through the cabinets in the bathroom hoping to find some Advil here rather than facing his Dad’s questions. And luck was on his side for the moment. There were travel packets hidden away in the cabinet drawers. Stiles tore into the packet and downed the pills quickly before brushing his teeth. Once his mouth felt like it wasn’t full of mysterious bacteria creatures any longer, Stiles turned the shower as warm as he could stand and peeled his clothes off.

                The shirt was drenched in sweat and glitter. He’d definitely have to be washing his sheets later on during the day. When he went to pull his pants of he grimaced. Something wasn’t right. His hip should not be hurting that bad, even if he had fallen asleep on his shoes. He slipped his pants over his hips and his eyes widened. Okay, he really drank way too much if he had at some point lost his boxers and holy fuck. What was that?

                He rubbed furiously at the dark mark on his skin and let out a hiss of pain. It wasn’t his brightest idea because if he thought it was a tattoo, it probably was a tattoo and that meant it would hurt the day after he got it.

                Standing butt naked in the bathroom Stiles stared down at this hip. What possessed him to get a tattoo? Much less a tattoo like this one? A triskelion? The curves of the triskelion were thick and it was slightly swollen still. It would probably ache for a few days before it started to heal. The tattoo lay right next to the just of his hip. Near enough to the bone that it probably hurt like hell when he got it done.

He vaguely heard people talk about tattoo care and if he was quick with his shower he should be okay. He was quick and he was extra careful with patting the tattoo dry. It paid to be invisible sometimes. You learn things you wouldn’t have ever thought you would have needed to know from your classmates. He dug around for something to wear that wouldn’t be too harsh on the skin and settled on a pair of loose shorts he usually slept in and a tee-shirt. Hopefully there weren’t going to be any arduous tasks to do at casa Stilinski today.

When Stiles padded downstairs, his pants hitched up a little higher than normal, he went straight for the fridge and grabbed the bacon. He needed a good breakfast this morning if he was going to make it through the rest of the day. Bacon, eggs and toast sounded delicious. He had just plated his food when his Dad rounded the corner dressed in his uniform and adjusting his gun holster on his belt. He narrowed his eyes at Stiles and huffed out a deep breath. “I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear you come in the house at four am this morning under the influence and I’m also going to pretend that you understand what the uniform I’m wearing means. I’m just glad you had the presence of mind to walk home or have someone drive you home. You get the task of locating your Jeep though.”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open. Of course he had someone drop him off. He might not have had enough presence of mind to say no to a tattoo but he had it drilled into his head enough times that he knew he needed a ride home.

He felt a bit guilty though. He was underage and the Sheriff’s son. It wasn’t a good thing to be intoxicated, the sheriff’s son and in public. He could really screw up his Dad’s reputation a bit more than he already had. Rubbing a hand over his head, Stiles looked up at his Dad with an apology on his lips.

“I’m know,” The sheriff held a hand out stopping the apology. “I can see it on your face. Just don’t do again. At least not for another few years.”

Stiles nodded, “Do you need me to do anything today other than find my Jeep?”

“There’s a grocery list on the fridge if you would be so kind.” The sheriff spoke over his shoulder as he grabbed the keys to his cruiser and headed towards the door. “Be sure you drink a lot of water today!”

“Will do!” Stiles shouted back before he went back to his breakfast trying to figure out who he could call that would even bother helping him hunt down his Jeep. It might still be at The Jungle but if he went and got a tattoo he might have been stupid enough to drive there.

He was cleaning up his mess when there was a heavy knock on the front door. Stiles dropped the soapy plate back into the water before wiping his hands clean on a dish towel as he headed for the door. He opened the door to see Derek standing on the front porch with his keys in the palm of his hand. Oh this was not going to be good at all. The litany of fucks going through his mind was drowning out what Derek was actually saying.

“Are you that hung over you don’t want the keys to your Jeep back?” Derek asked with a raised brow before moving to pocket them and Stiles reached out and stole the keys from Derek’s hand far faster than he thought he’d be able to.

“Thanks for bringing her back.”

“And…” Derek drawled out waiting for something else but Stiles wasn’t sure what the wolf was waiting for until Derek scowled and answered for him. “For picking your drunk ass up.”

Stiles could feel his heart jack hammer in his chest. Yeah, he was about to start freaking out. If Derek picked him up then he probably knew about the tattoo and shit was about to hit the fan. Shit couldn’t hit the fan though. If it did they’d all be screwed and they couldn’t be screwed.

“Stiles,” Derek reached out and squeezed Stiles’ shoulder, “Its fine. I didn’t mind picking you up. In fact, I’d rather pick you up outside of a bar than you drive. I’m sure your Dad was glad that you still had enough mind to call someone to pick you up.”

“So I was at The Jungle when you picked me up?” Stiles asked quietly afraid of what Derek would say about it.

Derek narrowed his eyes before he nodded. “You sure you’re okay?”

Stiles nodded and immediately regretted it. His head still hurt like a bitch. No, it was his eyes. The sun was really shining today. Wasn’t it supposed to rain? Stiles could be down for some serious rainy nap time. He fumbled for something to say to get Derek to stop looking at him like there was really something wrong with him. “I just drank way too much last night you know? Need to know if I need to apologize to anyone but you and the rest of the people in attendance at The Jungle.”

Derek snorted in amusement before shaking his head. “You were hanging out in the front seat of your Jeep talking to yourself.  Something about how awesome you were. I just got you in my car and then into your bed.”

“Well thanks again,” Stiles rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. “My Dad thanks you too for getting me back alive and in one piece.”

“Be more careful.” Derek muttered before he headed back to his car with one last look over his shoulder before Stiles turned around and shut the door behind him. His heart was beating heavy in his chest and he felt like he was about to drop. He didn’t know. Thank Jesus and all the apostles. Derek didn’t know about the tattoo.

(|)

Holy mother of god, his hip itched worse than that time he had an allergic reaction to Neosporin and that shit itched. Turning to his only ally at the moment, Stiles pulled up Google and tried to figure out what he could do to stop feeling like he was about to scratch the inked patch of skin off of his body. He was safe to put the ointment his doctor prescribed to him. Score! He dug through the cabinets for his prescription ointment before applying a light coat and rinsing his hands clean. He stared down at the triskelion and frowned. His skin was peeling. It was a good sign. He just needed to keep doing what he was doing, keep his hands away from his hips because apparently now that he got the tattoo, the slightest touch send fucking shivers down his spine and made his dick take interest in what was going on. He was completely fucked.

Taking a deep breath Stiles ignored the warmth pooling just below his navel and headed back to his room. Scott had texted him at some point about a ‘meeting’ they needed to go to around lunch. If that was code for something Stiles really hoped it didn’t involve Derek. His poor body couldn’t handle what being in the same room would do to him.

Where are we meeting at?

Stiles spun around in his chair for a few minutes before his phone chirped in response.

Where else? Derek’s.

Stiles did his best not to scream out loud and instead settled for a shrilly shriek of frustration. He really didn’t want to deal with an entire room full of werewolves who would know something was up. Pressing his lips together Stiles grabbed his keys from his desk and bound down the stairs and to his Jeep.

He ignored the way his heart started to beat more quickly the closer he got to Derek’s place and by the time he had parked in the driveway he was getting close enough to panicking that when Scott stepped out on the porch, his eyes scrunched in concern, Stiles darted out of the Jeep and fell on his face.

“Dude!” Scott jogged over to help Stiles up off the ground. “You okay?”

Stiles awkwardly brushed the leaves and dirt from his clothes as he got his feet back underneath him and headed up towards the house. “Just, meeting, you know?”

Scott looked at Stiles as if he had lost it but nodded. “Yeah, we were waiting for you to get here. Derek was about to send out a search party. He’s been muttering about you since I got here, something about you doing stupid things.”

“Yeah,” Stiles scratched at his chin trying to avoid answering the question that Scott didn’t have the guts to answer. “Any idea what the meeting is about?”

Scott held his hands up. “Not a clue man.”

When they walked into the main living room Stiles froze in his tracks. Everyone stopped and looked at him. It took a moment before Jackson broke the silence. “Nice one Stilinski. It never gets old watching you eat dirt.”

“Jackson!” Lydia screeched before looking over at Stiles. “You’re okay right?”

Stiles nodded before he took the only open spot available next to Derek on the love seat. Fuck. Love seat. Really? This was his life. He looked over at Derek from the corner of his eye and found Derek staring at him and his nostrils slightly flaring before his eyes locked on to the hip region of his body. Abort, abort. Distraction is needed. “So…what’s up?”

Derek rubbed a hand over his lips. He took a moment to look each pack member in the eye briefly before telling them why they were all piled up in his living room. “I think we should spend more time as a pack together, not just training, but just together.”

Stiles felt his heart drop out of his chest and into his stomach. Yeah he was fucked. And not in the good way either.

(|)

His tattoo had healed up pretty well for the most part. He still had to use lotion but it looked damn good. There were times he couldn’t help but look at the tattoo and the way it moved on his skin when he stretched out, twisted and turned. He might have been drunk when he had it done but this? it was part of him now. It felt like it was supposed to be. There wasn’t an ounce of regret from getting this done. He wanted to show Derek the tattoo every time he saw the werewolf but knew there were a thousand reasons why he shouldn’t.

He had taken to setting his fingers through his belt loops when he stood idle. He liked the way his jeans felt against his skin. He had become so much more aware of his body since getting the tattoo and he had to admit, he kind of liked what he saw in himself.

Gonna show up anytime soon?

Stiles rolled his eyes. Of course he would be running late to the latest pack function. He couldn’t help it. Sometimes he got lost in his own world and well you know how that goes. Stiles typed out a snappy response back to Scott before grabbing his keys up.

Unless there’s food count me out.

Stiles had barely pulled out of his driveway when Scott had responded.

Tons. Don’t forget your swimsuit.

Stiles blinked once and then twice at the text message hoping his mind was just making things up. But no. It said it. Right there in black and white bring your fucking swimsuit. When did they need swimsuits? With a frown Stiles pulled back into the driveway and darted in the house to grab the offending piece of clothing and some spare clothes before hitting the road to Derek’s.

 

There was a pool in Derek’s back yard. How the fuck did that get there? When did it get there? Stiles stood with his bag in his hand taking in the sight of the entire pack creating havoc in an above ground pool that had to cost Derek a pretty penny to purchase. Lydia and Danny were laid out on some loungers and Stiles still didn’t believe his eyes until Derek came and stood in front him. Dripping wet.

“You okay?”

Stiles licked his lips and tore his eyes away from Derek’s chest forcing himself to answer. “When did you manage to do all this?”

Derek looked over his shoulder and shrugged. “Lydia told me I needed a pool.”

“So in Lydia speak...?” Stiles turned towards the girl in question waiting for an explanation.

“We need to be a better pack. I heard that from someone at some point.” Lydia shrugged, “How do people get closer and start trusting each other? Socialization. It would be an easier transition to getting the pack more unified this way. Derek suggested movie nights, big dinners or game night. I need some sun. Derek got a pool.”

Stiles couldn’t help the small upward curl of his lips hearing that Derek actually paid attention to what he was saying because he vaguely recalled when he suggested that Derek should listen to his betas more often and that was during a huge rant that had nothing to do with anything three days before he got his tattoo.

Scott’s boisterous laughter tore Stiles from his musing and patted Derek on his shoulder. “I think you did okay.”

Derek nodded. “I should start up the barbeque. Swimming used to always make me hungry.”

Stiles dropped his bag on the grass. “I’ve got it. I’ve never been much of a swimmer anyways. You go bond and do your alpha thing and I’ll cook.”

The raised brow was expected but Stiles ushered Derek off towards the pool. “Go. You know what I’m like around new things. Murphy’s law is not my friend. At least with the grill I’ve already managed to burn my eyebrows off.”

Derek shook his head before gesturing towards the kitchen. “Stuff’s in the kitchen.”

With a thumbs up Stiles disappeared into the kitchen. He planted his hands over the kitchen sink and stared out the window at Derek. He had moved to talk quietly with Lydia and Danny as he dried off with a spare towel. Fuck how was he supposed to function now? Derek in a pair of swim trunks, all that skin just begging for attention and he was surrounded by a pack of werewolves. Washing his hands off, Stiles shook his head clear. At least he got out of swimming.

(|)

“Dude,” Scott tried to muffle his laughter at the sight of Stiles’ still burned forearms as Stiles strode across Derek’s living room towards the kitchen to get the popcorn started up. “Farmer much?”

Rolling his eyes Stiles grabbed the first packet of popcorn and set the timer before resting against the countertop. Of course the other day Stiles forgot about the concept of sunscreen and no one else thought about it because they would heal a slight sunburn. Not him.

Derek stepped into the kitchen and set a bottle of blue aloe on the counter next to Stiles. “This should help. There’s Tylenol in the bathroom cabinet.”

Stiles nodded slowly before picking up the bottle Derek set next to him and immediately began to slather it onto his arms. He let out a slight hum of relief at the cool feeling on his skin. He was a little surprised that Derek mentioned the Tylenol though. The aloe was something that everyone, even werewolves would know about. Taking Tylenol to avoid fever and thus avoiding nausea from a really bad burn wasn’t something people thought about unless they had experienced a bad burn.

“Thanks,” Stiles rinsed the gel off the palms of his hands before popping the microwave door open to avoid burnt popcorn. “Is it upstairs too?”

“Yeah.” Derek took over popcorn duties shooing Stiles out of the kitchen.

 Stiles was stopped by Scott before he hit the stairs. “Is it that bad?”

He shrugged, “There was a reason my shirt stayed on the entire afternoon. I didn’t get your genes. Instead of tanning I burn and go back to my milky white perfection.”

Scott snorted in amusement. “Well next time we’re out all day sunscreen ever eighty minutes! If you get in the water or sweat pretty bad a lot sooner. SPF 100 will be applied and reapplied. Or maybe we’ll get you one of those UV protected shirts”

“What?”

“Yeah, that’s what Derek said the pharmacist told him earlier.” Scott grinned at how Stiles flushed even beneath the sunburn. “Hurry up we’ve got movies to watch!”

(|)

It was safe to say that Stiles was a fairly vanilla kind of guy. He hadn’t found any kinks (other than the tattoo) that would get him going. But fuck his life. Thinking about Derek being worried about him along with what the tattoo meant to him really got the blood flowing.

Showers were nearly impossible to get through without touching himself. He’d let his fingernails scratch just so against the edges of the triskelion and further down until he was wrapping his fingers around himself. All Stiles could think of was Derek and the possibilities of what he would do once he realized that Stiles had marked himself as Derek’s.

Derek’s lips hot against skin. Biting, licking, and teasing. He could feel Derek’s hands gripping his hips tightly as he scrapped his teeth against the ink before slowly standing and marking Stiles as his own. The thought of Derek’s mouth and teeth against his throat, working the blood to the surface so the rest of the pack would know that Stiles was Derek’s sent shivers down his spine.

(|)

They were having dinner and movie night again. Dinner was good. Derek helped Stiles with steak, potatoes, salad and some lemon squares for desert. The pack loved it and it was nice to feel appreciated for more than just his brain. Maybe that’s why he didn’t bat an eye when Derek dropped on the couch next to him, their thighs firmly planted together as the opening credits rolled.

Halfway through the movie Stiles dropped into a light doze, resting his head on Derek’s shoulder until Derek shifted and Stiles was moving with Derek. Being half asleep rendered him unabashed in where he was laying his head, in Derek’s lap, so in spectacular fashion he dropped further into slumber.

Stiles woke up to the loud music accompanying the end credits. At first he didn’t recognize the heat on his hip. He just knew that it felt damn good. Soft pressure against his triskelion pulled a groan from his lips. He stretched against the feeling and froze at the sharp inhalation above him. He woke up quicker than he thought possible. His shirt rode up and his shorts rode down while he was sleeping. He could see a slight curl of ink and his heart jack-hammered in his chest. He rolled off of the couch and hit the floor with a heavy thump. He knew.

“What the hell?” Jackson snapped as he avoided the collision with Stiles’ elbow.

Stiles eyes were locked with Derek’s waiting for some kind of response but he didn’t get much of one. Derek’s eyes were darker than usual and his hand curled into the fabric of the cushion but Derek didn’t say anything. He just stared.

“Please tell me you did not have a wet dream while the rest of us were watching the Notebook.” Jackson groaned into his hands.

Stiles broke from the pull of Derek’s gaze before turning to face Jackson. “Does it look like I had a wet dream Whitmore?”

He stepped over piles of people as he headed for the kitchen and away from everyone’s prying eyes. Derek didn’t see anything. Okay, he saw a small bit of the tattoo, not all of it. His shorts covered most of the tattoo and if Derek had seen it he would have said something. That’s not something you just let go. Shaking his head Stiles grabbed a glass of water and downed it. By the time they had cleaned up the popcorn, soda and candy wrappers from the living room Stiles had convinced himself that Derek hadn’t seen anything.

(|)

Derek was sitting in Stiles’ computer chair waiting for him by the time Stiles got home from movie night. Stiles felt his chest warm and his cheeks flush. Derek had seen. Fuck. Playing it off as stupid, that was Stiles’ only option now. “Did something happen in that last thirty minutes that I should be worried about?”

Derek stood up and slowly moved across the room, pushing Stiles back against the wall. He planted his hands above Stiles’ shoulders and locked eyes with Stiles. “What is it of?”

Stiles swallowed down his anxiety and decided to go see if he could get away with playing stupid. “What is what of?”

“I know about the tattoo. I could smell it the day after I picked you up.” Derek growled out.

Stiles nodded, of course Derek knew. He had a feeling that Derek would be able to smell the wound healing or he’d smell the ink. Supernatural sniffer and all that. He wasn’t worried about Derek knowing that he had a tattoo. No he was afraid of the repercussions of how Derek would take him being drunk when he got the tattoo done. Derek would think it didn’t mean anything. That it was all a joke. That’s what Stiles would think if Derek told him that. His heart was pounding in his chest and he shut his eyes tightly not wanting to see how disappointed Derek was.

“What is it?” Derek demanded. Stiles’ eyes burst open. “What did you mark yourself with?”

That last question definitely shouldn’t have turned Stiles on but it did. Oh fuck. Derek was going to know. Shit.

“It’s nothing.” Stiles answered.

“It is something,” Derek disagreed. “The way you’ve been hiding it since you’ve gotten it done. The way you reacted earlier when you realized I saw part of it. You were afraid of me finding out. What is it Stiles?”

Licking his lips, Stiles ignored the heat that blossomed in his belly when Derek’s eyes followed the movement. Stiles softly pushed at Derek’s chest moving him a step away before he let his hands drop to his shorts. With his fingers on the button Stiles paused, “I don’t regret getting it done. Seeing it every time I change my clothes, every time I shower, it makes me feel right. It’s probably one of the best decisions I’ve made.”

Derek’s eyes were blown wide, “Show me.”

Stiles took a deep breath and nodded. He unbuttoned his pants and pushed them low enough that Derek could see the tattoo in its entirety. When Derek reached out to trace the triskelion, Stiles couldn’t help the gasp and the sharp inhalation. That touch. God how he wanted Derek’s fingers on his skin.  

“You feel right with my mark on you?” Derek whispered as he looked up into Stiles’ eyes.

Stiles rasped out a soft, “Yes.”

“And you think about me every time you see it?”

“Yes.”

“Why were you afraid to show me?” Derek asked as he stepped closer. His thumb rubbed against the inked skin and his other hand resting at the nape of Stiles’ neck.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me.” Stiles answered.

Derek nosed along the column of Stiles’ neck, halfway teasing while he took in Stiles’ scent. He let his lips linger just below Stiles’ jaw before scraping his teeth lightly down the fragile skin. He nipped lightly at the base of Stiles’ throat before gazing up at Stiles. “Do you know what that tattoo makes me want to do?”

Stiles hummed from the back of his throat. He wanted to touch Derek but he wasn’t sure that he could touch. He clenched his fist down at his side waiting for Derek’s lead, which he had no clue where Derek would take this but god, he hoped it was just about the same thing he wanted Derek to do right about now. “What?”

Derek shifted so he was eye level with Stiles as he spoke. “It makes me want to show you what it means to be mine. How it would feel for me to mark you.”

The whimper that escaped Stiles’ lips was unavoidable. He couldn’t help it.  Not with how husky Derek’s voice had grown or the way Derek was pressed against him from the hip down, his thumb still pressing against the tattoo.

Derek’s lips curled upwards and before Stiles could think, Derek’s mouth was on his.

(|)

Stiles stared into the bathroom mirror at the vivid bruise sitting at the base of his throat. He let his fingers brush against it with a slight bit of pressure and he couldn’t help but smile. He had finally gotten the one thing he never thought he’d be able to have.

“Stiles, you awake up there?”

With a quick yell back to his Dad, Stiles brushed his teeth and headed back to his bedroom to get dress for whatever chores his Dad had in store for him today. Derek was still sprawled out on his bed, his nose pressed in the pillow Stiles had been resting on. He stopped briefly to trace the outline of Derek’s triskelion before heading towards his dresser to get dressed.

“Where are you going?” Derek asked, his eyes not opening at all.

Stiles shrugged his shirt on before tugging a pair of khaki cargos over his hips, “Dad wanted me up. Probably needs me to do something.”

“Pack meeting tonight.” Derek mumbled.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Pack meeting with everyone or just me and you?”

Derek cracked one eye open, “Everyone. Want them to know.”

Stiles snorted, “All right. I’ll pick up Chinese or something. I don’t feel like cooking. I figure I might be distracted with someone.”

Derek grinned at Stiles before rolling over onto his back. “Sounds like a good idea.”

Stiles leaned over Derek and pressed his lips to Derek’s. He chuckled when Derek urged him onto the bed and took things a step further. Stiles ended up bracketing Derek’s hips with his knees, his hands pressed on the mattress struggling to stay above Derek.

“Stiles! If I have to come up there you aren’t going out with Derek tonight!”

Stiles jerked, rolled off the bed onto the floor in surprise. He looked up at Derek who shrugged in response. “He walked in early this morning to see if you were actually here.”

“And you didn’t tell me!?” Stiles whisper-yelled.

“You didn’t wake up, didn’t see the point of waking you.” Derek grinned. “Your Dad muttered something like about time. You weren’t as good at hiding your tattoo from your Dad as you were from the rest of us.”

Stiles’ eyes widened and he grimaced as he heard his Dad’s heavier than usual footsteps on the stairs. “Stiles!”

Stiles got up off the floor and pressed on final kiss to Derek’s lips before darting out the door to meet his Dad at the top of the stairs. “Hey Dad.”

The Sheriff raised a brow, “The next time your boyfriend spends the night let me know so I don’t walk in on anything.”

Stiles nodded frantically trying to ignore the flush on his cheeks. “So what’s on the books today?”

“Grocery shopping and then you’re free.” The Sheriff backed towards the stairs. “Just be home at a reasonable hour tonight.”

(|)

Stiles was sitting in his Jeep outside of Derek house wondering if he should go in. He was worried about how everyone would react. It wasn’t that often, okay never, that Stiles walked in with a hickey on his neck but it would be different seeing that the hickey in question was put there by Derek Hale.

His cell phone chirped at him and Stiles rolled his eyes. Scott.

Coming in anytime soon?

Putting on his big boy boxers, Stiles stepped from the Jeep and headed inside. As soon as he stepped through the door everyone froze and stared at him. Jackson was the first one to break the awkward silence. “Seriously? I thought I was just smelling things.”

Boyd shook his head but went back to watching whatever was on the television. Lydia smiled at Stiles but didn’t say anything otherwise. Scott rolled his eyes and disappeared into the kitchen with a mumbled, “I don’t get it but whatever.”

Stiles had barely set the bags down on the kitchen table before a pair of arms wrapped around his middle and a soft kiss was pressed to the back of his neck. “Everything went okay?”

Stiles turned in Derek’s arms. “Seemed to have expected this a while ago but other than that everything went just fine.”

“Good.” Derek mumbled as he pressed his lips to Stiles’ again. Scott let out a disgusted groan, “Really? Over the food?”