Chapter Text
Stiles' head snaps up, all thoughts of sleep vanishing. "My dad is what!?" Stiles scrambles from the bed, grabbing some of the wipes and swiping at the drying come on his chest and softening cock before running around the room, picking up his clothes and pulling them on.
Derek follows suit at a slower pace. "Did you not tell your dad you were staying the night?"
"He was working the overnight shift."
The door to the loft slides open just as Derek pulls his shirt on over his head, and Stiles locates his left shoe under the coffee table. "Good to know you're alive, son," the sheriff says, entering the loft. His eyebrows climb his forehead when he sees the guilty flush on Stiles' face and the blank look on Derek's.
"Dad-" Stiles starts, but John doesn't let him finish.
"Can you even imagine how I felt when I got home this morning and found no evidence that you had even been home last night?"
"Sorry. But I am eighteen."
"And still in high school and living in my house. You are my responsibility until such time as you move out. Plus, I worry when I don't know where you are."
Stiles shares a look with Derek. "You're right. I'm sorry I worried you."
John nods. "A simple text next time is all I ask." Stiles nods and sits down to finish putting his shoes on. "How about we go for breakfast?"
"Uh-" Stiles finds himself at a loss for words, glancing back at where Derek is standing.
"You, too, Derek."
"I, uh, I-" Derek starts, but John waves away any argument he might make.
"If you and my son are going to be in a relationship, I need to get to know you."
"Dad!" Stiles can feel his face heating with an embarrassed flush.
"What? As long as Derek remembers I have wolfsbane bullets, everything'll be fine. Isn't that right, Derek?" Derek nods his head, swallowing thickly. "And as long as you treat him well and keep him happy, I won't have a reason to use them." John raises his eyebrows and gives Derek the look that has always had the ability to make Stiles confess to any wrongdoing, whether or not John knew about it. Or it used to, back before Scott was bitten.
"Why don't you go on ahead to the diner, Stiles? Derek and I will be right behind you."
"Um, Dad-"
"Stiles." John turns to give Stiles The Look.
Stiles looks back at Derek, who gives a small nod. With a nod of his own, Stiles leaves the loft, climbing into his jeep and heading to the diner in town.
Derek tucks his hands in his pockets and settles his weight on his heels. "Is this where you give me 'the shovel talk'?"
"Do I need to give you that particular talk?"
Derek shrugs and says, "You have to know that I never touched him before last night."
John nods. "I believe you. And I believe that I already gave you 'the shovel talk' when I mentioned the bullets. But I was serious. As long as you treat him right and keep him happy, you'll get no objection from me."
Derek uses a moment of awkward silence to put his shoes on. He knows there's something John wants to say and figures he's similar enough to Stiles that any attempt to force him to talk will just have him clam up. So, he takes his time putting his shoes on, even going so far as to retie them a couple of times.
John clears his throat and asks, "I know you love him, but do you like him?"
Derek glances up, his brows lowered in confusion. "How do you know?"
John chuckles. "When you think no one is looking you look at him the way I used to look at his mother."
"I've tried to keep it hidden."
"I know. I knew your mother and the man she raised would never overstep with a minor. Stiles told me about what Kate did to you and that just confirmed what I already knew about you."
Derek's legs give out at hearing this man say he believes in him, trusts him with his son. "I have loved your son since I first laid eyes on him. I know you probably think I'm crazy for saying that, but it's true."
"It's not crazy." Derek blinks up at where John's standing over him. "I fell for Claudia just from her laugh. I heard it before I saw her. Knew instantly that she was the one for me."
Derek nods. "Well, to answer your question, there are days when I think I actively hate him, but underneath it is love. Always love."
A huge smile crosses John's face. "Just like his mother. Even when she pissed me off, I still loved her. So long as you remember that you'll be just fine."
"Your question reminds of this one scene in this old movie my mother loved and made me watch a time or two. It was set during the Civil War and this man had several children. His daughter had a suitor that was about to head off to fight. When he went to ask for her hand, the father asked a similar question. I keep the suitor's answer in mind whenever Stiles pisses me off."
"I know the movie. And it's why I asked you that question. I felt the same way with Claudia."
"We should go before Stiles decides you've killed me and are hiding my body in the woods somewhere."
With a flick of his head, John leads the way to the door. "Ride with me?"
"I figured I'd drive myself. That way Stiles can head to your place to pack a bag, and I can head to the store before heading to my place. I haven't bought groceries yet this week."
"We are not going to discuss you sleeping with my son."
"Not a problem. That is not a topic I care to discuss with a man who carries a gun for a living and can make my life very uncomfortable."
"So long as we're on the same page."
"Absolutely." Derek pats John on the back and follows him from the building, climbing into his car and heading toward town.
John arrives at the diner first and finds Stiles sitting at a table nervously fiddling with his silverware and staring intently at the door. His brows lower over his nose when John walks in without Derek.
"Where's Derek?" Stiles demands when John sits in the chair to Stiles' right.
He shrugs. "He was right behind me. Must have gotten caught by a train."
"What did you do?" Stiles leans close to hiss in his father's ear.
John chuckles. "Nothing, son. Trust me. The lights on that train crossing near his loft started flashing just as I crossed over the tracks. You know how long and slow the trains on that track usually are."
Stiles just frowns at his father, trying to decide if he should believe him or not. Before he can make up his mind, Derek enters the diner and takes a seat to Stiles' left. "Sorry. Got stopped by a train."
John shoots Stiles a look that screams 'told you'. Stiles just rolls his eyes. Before anyone can say anything else, the waitress approaches. "Morning, Sheriff. Your usual?"
"Morning, Pearl. Yes, please." She nods and scribbles on the pad in her hand.
"What's his usual?" Stiles asks, eyes narrowed on John's face.
"Two eggs over medium, toast, bacon, hash browns, and a cup of black coffee."
"No bacon." Stiles glares at John, who just stares right back with one brow raised.
"You want the same but no bacon, got it." Pearl starts to write that down.
"No! He isn't allowed bacon."
Pearl frowns at Stiles. Not sure if he gets to decide what his father is and is not allowed to eat.
John sighs and stacks his arms on the table to lean over toward Stiles. "You don't get to decide that for me."
"Bacon isn't good for you!"
"Remind me when you graduated from medical school and became my doctor." John tilts his head. "That's right. You didn't. I had a checkup with my doctor just last week. According to him I'm perfectly healthy and have no restrictions to my diet."
"But, Dad-" Stiles starts to object.
John just shakes his head, stopping the tirade in its tracks. "No, Stiles. I'm a grown adult who can make his own choices about what to eat. And since a medical professional has told me that as long as I'm not eating bacon at every meal, there's no reason I can't enjoy it with my breakfast. Besides, it's only four pieces."
"Is it turkey bacon?" Stiles asks Pearl.
She shakes her head. "Our customers would riot if we served them fake bacon." Pointing at the menu in Stiles' hand, she asks, "You ready to order?"
With a sigh, Stiles hands over the menu and says, "I'll have what he's having only I want my eggs sunny side up."
"Fine." Pearl jots his order on her pad. "And you?" She turns to Derek.
"Same, only scrambled eggs, please."
"Very good." She takes the menus and tucks her pencil behind one ear. "Y'all want separate cups of coffee or a whole pot?"
"Whole pot," all three men say in unison.
With a chuckle, Pearl turns to turn their orders into the kitchen before returning with three coffee mugs, a carafe of coffee, and a small bowl of creamer cups. "Food'll be up in a few." When she gets three nods of acknowledgement, she heads off to check on her other tables.
John pours coffee into the mugs and hands one to Stiles and Derek, then says, "So, Derek-" and hides his smirk at how both Derek and Stiles flinch behind his first sip.
"Dad." Stiles' voice holds a note of warning, but John ignores it.
"Did you go to college?"
Derek throws a wide-eyed look at Stiles, who is too busy glaring at his father to notice. "Yes, sir," he finally replies.
John takes another sip, waiting for Derel to say more. When he doesn't, John prompts him with, "Did you graduate?"
"I did, yes."
Again, John waits for Derek to elaborate. Turning to Stiles, he asks, "Is it always this difficult to get answers from him?"
Stiles shrugs, still glaring at his dad. "It's a toss-up as to who will be more taciturn, him or Deaton, on any given day. Guess it's Derek's turn."
Derek snorts, then coughs when the sip of coffee he had just taken goes down the wrong way. Stiles just blinks at him, seemingly unconcerned for his boyfriend's well-being. "I did." Derek thinks about saying what his degree is in, but he's feeling petty.
John sighs and asks, "What is your degree in?"
Derek hides his own smile behind his mug. "I have a BA in architecture."
"Really?" Stiles sets his mug down, idly stirring the spoon in lazy figure eights. "Does that mean you're an architect?"
"No. That requires more schooling and I only wanted to be able to design my house."
"Oh," Stiles breathes, his face softening as he realizes what Derek means.
"I just wanted to have my name on the blueprints and didn't want to argue with anyone over the safety measures I wanted."
"That totally makes sense."
"So, what do you do for money?"
"Dad!" Stiles gasps. "You can't ask him that." John turns to look at his son; one brow raised in a 'why not?' gesture.
"The Hale Pack founded Beacon Hills. My mother managed our properties and now I do."
John frowns at the man sitting across the table from him. "How much of the town do you own?"
Derek tilts his head while thinking. "A little less than half, now. Before the fire, we owned about ninety percent."
"Damn," Stiles says, his voice soft and full of awe.
"Although, I don't really do much. After Cora was born, Mom had hired an account and a bunch of property managers to run most of the day to day. Laura had them sell off a lot when we were in New York. When I came back, I didn't see the point in buying them back."
"Do you own the building the loft is in?"
"I do. Once I was finished with the house, I started planning on fixing it up so I can get tenants in."
Stiles frowns at him, but before he can ask his question, Pearl arrives with their food. She sets the plates in front of each of them and asks, "Can I get you men anything else?" When they all shake their heads 'no', she nods and says, "Alright. Let me know if that changes. Enjoy." She then heads off to tend to her other tables.
Stiles reaches over and tries to take the bacon off John's plate. John slaps his hand. "My doctor says I can have bacon. Stop." Stiles pouts but relents and lets his dad have his bacon.
All three eat several bites of their breakfast before Stiles' curiosity gets the better of him, and he asks, "If you own an apartment building, why were you living in an abandoned train station?"
Derek pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth. Slowly lowering it, he clears his throat and wipes his mouth and hands on his napkin before answering Stiles' question. "Because I was hiding from the Alpha who killed my sister. I didn't know who it was so I didn't know if they would know about the loft and look for me there."
"Oh," Stiles says, the 'duh' and forehead slap implied in his tone.
John clears his throat. "I know the two of you just got together last night, but have you thought about what'll happen when Stiles goes to college next fall, Derek?"
"Dad!" Stiles wants to die of embarrassment at this line of questioning.
"I figure Stiles and I will discuss that at some point between now and the end of the school year."
John nods, and Stiles fights the urge to roll his eyes and sigh. "Who says I'm going away for college? I plan on attending BCCC."
John takes his time swallowing his bite and a sip of his coffee. "You'll need at least a bachelor's to be a deputy."
Stiles narrows his eyes on his father's face. "You made that decision right now, didn't you?" John just raises one brow and takes another slow sip of his coffee. "Why are you so intent on getting rid of me?"
John sighs. "Not trying to get rid of you, Stiles. I just don't want you to regret not getting the four-year college experience."
"Why? I know you can't regret not getting that because you met Mom at college."
"I regret not getting it when I was the same age as my classmates. As you know, I joined the Army right out of high school, so I was in my early thirties when I went to college. I didn't have to live in a dorm since I was an adult, so I missed out on that, and I felt awkward going to frat parties and the thought of pledging a fraternity just didn't sit well. Don't you want to experience all that?"
"It all seems rather childish after fighting for my life for the past two years."
"I get that. But I still think you should experience it."
"Do you know why I was planning on going to BCCC?" John shakes his head and takes a bite of his bacon. "It's cheaper. I know paying for me to go to college will be a stretch with Mom's medical bills, your medical bills, and my medical bills. Hell, the few days I spent in Eichen House must have cost a small fortune."
"Stiles." John puts one hand on Stiles' arm. "It's not your job to worry about my finances."
"Why not? I'm part of the reason you have so much medical debt."
John shakes his head. "Stop, Stiles. Just stop."
"Um, Stiles," Derek starts, only to be interrupted by Stiles.
"Don't you even think of offering to pay for my schooling! I will not be a kept man." He puts his nose in the air, and Derek swallows a laugh.
"I wasn't going to offer. I was going to suggest scholarships, grants, and loans. I know you don't want to even think about the debt you'd be in, but that really isn't something you can avoid these days."
Stiles sticks his tongue out at Derek, who chuckles and says, "If I was you, I'd get rid of that ugly thing, too."
John chokes on the sip of coffee he was taking. "Never knew you had this kind of sense of humor," he says once he can breathe normally again.
Derek just shrugs. "I've been trying to remind myself that life shouldn't always be taken so seriously." He swallows the last sip of his coffee and reaches for his wallet.
"Put that away," John says, frowning at where Derek's holding his wallet. "I invited you; it's my treat."
Derek and Stiles share a look. Stiles tilts his head and gives a small one shouldered shrug. Derek nods and returns his wallet to his back pocket. "If you insist." Standing, he leans over and presses a kiss to Stiles' lips. "I'm going to stop at the store since I haven't been yet this week. See you later?"
Stiles smiles, a soft blush heating his cheeks. "Sure. Dad and I will finish here, then I'll grab a bag before coming over." Derek pointedly ignores John choking on his food at the mention of his son spending the night at his boyfriend's house.
Derek stops at the store, pushing a cart through the aisles, selecting items for quick meals for a couple of days. He had been meaning to go to the store for several days but never quite made it. At the house, he puts the groceries away, leaving out the items he wants for lunch. When he hears Stiles' jeep, he heads out to the porch and sits on the swing.
Stiles comes to a stop and sits in the car for a few seconds after he turns off the engine. It has Derek frowning, wondering if something happened after he left the diner. Eventually, Stiles climbs from the car, pulling his backpack behind him. Slowly, he mounts the steps, dropping his bag near the door before joining Derek on the swing.
"Did something happen?"
Instead of answering, Stiles reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope that he hands to Derek. "Go ahead. Read it."
Derek frowns, turning the envelope over, his eyes going wide when he sees the return address. "This is the school I went to."
"It is?" Derek nods. One corner of Stiles' mouth quirks. "Well, go on. Read it."
"Opening someone else's mail is illegal."
Stiles rolls his eyes. "It's already open. Now, read it!"
Derek pulls out the single sheet of paper and unfolds it, skimming it quickly. "Stiles! This is-"
"Yeah, I'm not going."
Derek blinks at Stiles. "What? Why not?"
"I can't leave."
"Stiles."
"No. My mind's made up." Stiles takes the letter back and fiddles with the torn flap.
"You got a full scholarship somewhere else? Somewhere closer?"
Stiles shakes his head. "No. They're the only ones who offered it. I applied with each application. The others either denied it or only offered enough to cover tuition. But even with this one covering tuition, books, a meal plan, and housing, I'll still need a job to cover everything else."
"I'm sure you can get a part time job at the bookstore or something to cover that."
"Still not going."
"I say you must. Your dad will say that too."
"What about the pack?"
"What about them?"
"I can't just leave."
"Why not? Lydia's off to MIT. Scott's off to Davis. I think I heard that Allison's off to Standford."
"Yeah, but-"
"But what?"
"You. And my dad."
"Will survive without you."
"What if I can't survive without you?"
"Then I guess, I'll just have to go with you." Stiles blinks at Derek for a long moment, his mouth opening and shutting with no words forming. "Did I finally find a nonsexual way to shut you up?"
Stiles presses his lips together, frowning. "I hate you," he says through gritted teeth.
"No, you don't." Derek leans over and presses a kiss to the tip of Stiles' nose. "You love me. You said so just this morning."
Stiles rolls his eyes. "Fine. I love you generally. But at this moment in time, I don't like you very much."
"Just so long as you remember that you do love me, I'm okay with that."
Stiles leans into Derek's side while they sit quietly, with Derek pushing the swing every so often with his foot to keep it moving. Derek's wolf is so content that Derek thinks he might be purring.
"So," Derek speaks softly after some minutes have passed. "Which do you prefer?"
Stiles doesn't even need to ask Derek what he means. He knew the question was coming, so he answers honestly. "I like them both."
"That's not an answer, Stiles."
"Well, it's the one you're getting."
Derek shoves Stiles upright with his shoulder. "So, what? You want us to take turns? Like keep a tally and everything?"
Stiles laughs. "No. We can figure out who'll top in the moment. Unless you want to keep a tally?"
"No. I think deciding in the moment works just fine."
Stiles hums, pressing his lips to Derek's cheek. "So, take me upstairs. I find I want to ride your cock."
Six months later
"I think that's everything," John says, handing Stiles one last box and watching as he shoves it into the back of the jeep before slamming the door closed.
"Well, if I've forgotten anything, it's not like I can't buy it on the road or once I get to New York. It's not like they don't have stores there, ya know."
John's lips twitch as he fights a smile. He's trying to be somber as he sees his only child go off into the world. He's glad that Derek is going with him, but it still feels like Stiles is going alone since it's Derek and not him.
"We should get on the road," Derek says, approaching where father and son stand at the back of the jeep.
"Yeah, I suppose." Stiles nibbles his bottom lip. He never thought it would be this difficult to leave.
"It's not like you'll never see him again." Derek slips one arm around Stiles' shoulders.
"Yeah, but it'll be a year! It's too expensive to come home sooner than that."
"Well, then it'll be summer before you're home," John says, tucking his hands in my pockets so he doesn't grab Stiles and lock him in his room. "Maybe you can finally teach me how to use Zoom?"
"Yeah, I think I can do that." Stiles clears his throat. "We must go now."
"Yeah." Derek steps back, leaving the father and son to say their goodbyes in private.
Stiles and John hug and shed more than a few tears into each other's shoulders. Then John pulls back and pushes Stiles toward the passenger side of the jeep. "Love you, Dad," Stiles says, his voice wavering just the slightest bit.
"Love you, too, son. And you as well, Derek." John nods at Derek.
Derek gives a small smile. "Love you, too."
"Drive careful." John steps back and holds one hand up in farewell, watching as Derek and Stiles drive away.