Headcanon:
Stiles was the only one left, the rest of the pack rowdy and jubilant, headed out for some greasy takeout food. Derek could see it by the slump of his shoulders, his back pushed into the wire fence of the batting cages. He didn’t need to smell the boy’s unhappiness. Sinking down next to him, he pressed his shoulder up against Stiles, nudging him.
“You okay?” he asked, tentative. Sometimes it was best to let the boy speak from his heart; he tended to be more honest that way.
“Fine” Derek heard the uptick of the lie but let his word settle, patient, Stiles would get to it eventually.
The sun was warm on both their backs, sweat cooling between their shoulder blades, the thock thock thock of the metal bat in Stiles’ hands thumping the ground between his legs as he spun it around in little circles.
“Actually, god Derek this is going to sound so stupid, but then again coming from me…” Stiles tilted his head up, catching Derek’s eye, clearly embarrassed.
Derek said nothing, giving him a small smile, giving him space to say whatever needed to be said.
“I’m not as fast or strong as most of our team, Derek. Me, the human, playing with all the freaking werewolves. Who can run without getting tired, and hit home runs every other shot. I mean, today I hardly made contact today. It’s not great being reminded that outta the group, everyone can be better than you all the time.” His voice cracked a little at the end, a sheen of tears pricking hotly at his eyes.
Derek put a hand on top of the bat, stopping its movements, so that Stiles could look him in the eye.
“All true.” He could feel the boy’s misery deepening slightly, fading into the background as self-acceptance.
But you know what even I can’t do, with my wolfy powers? I can’t make Erica laugh like you do, Stiles. Or get Isaac to fall back to sleep after one of his nightmares. Or shut up Jackson with one cleverly timed comeback. So they hit a couple of balls around a field a little better than you today. Big deal. We wouldn’t even be out here if it wasn’t for you. Insisting that I’d started getting a flabby stomach from lying around eating pizza on pack nights. We all do it because of you Stiles.”
He felt Stiles hand creep into his, fingers squeezing back, warm and content.
They sat in silence and let the sun warm them.