Work Text:
The kid pops up like a dandelion.
It’s the only reason Stiles ends up squawking loud enough to send a nearby flock of pigeons scattering into the air, and has Jackson doubled over in laughter.
Stiles, trying to ignore his rapidly beating heart and useless best friend, finds himself staring at this kid.
Who is staring right back at him.
“Where the hel-eck did you come from??”
“Oohh, guess the Sheriff hasn’t had time for that whole birds and bees conversation with you, huh?” Jackson snarks, still chortling, and Stiles barely refrains from flipping him off because the kid is still staring at him. Stiles might not know who the boy belongs to but he sure as fuck does not want to be the reason the munchkin learns how to move certain fingers.
“Shut it, Jackson. Uhhh… hi, bud. Where’s your mom?” He offers a waggle of his fingers and the question, hoping it’ll prompt a response from the little plaid covered boy, but there’s still nothing.
Well… nothing other than rapid blinking and… deep inhaling?
Frowning slightly, Stiles looks around the park.
It’s a work day for most people which means a pretty empty park. Stiles, Jackson and Scott had somehow managed to finagle a day off from their respective jobs, which is why the three roommates are out on this surprisingly warm fall day, but the rest of the place is bare, with just a few stragglers out with strollers. None of whom seem to be missing a child.
“Whose kid is he?” Stiles mutters, looking down at the little boy again… who is still just staring.
Behind him, Jackson hums, fabric rustling as he scoots closer to Stiles over the blanket. “Kid doesn’t look like a runaway. Those clothes are brand new, good quality too, and he looks well fed. Happy. So… definitely not running from an abusive situation.”
Stiles offers his friend a deadpan look. Idiot watches one Sherlock Holmes episode and thinks he’s a detective. “Thank you, Jackson, for that informative spiel, but it still doesn’t explain why–”
“MAMA!”
And then Stiles is squawking again as arms throw themselves around him, squeezing harder than any two year old has a right to.
“Ma– what?” he wheezes out, trying to get free but the kid doesn’t let go, nuzzling - why is he nuzzling?? - into Stiles’ chest, happily still mumbling mama. “Jackson! Stop laughing!”
Jackson, the absolutely useless asshole, is no help, falling as he is over himself in helpless laughter. Stiles hates him.
“I hate you,” He hisses out verbally to the laughing dickhead, just to really get the point across, and finally manages to get one arm free to tug the little boy away enough to look at him. “Look, buddy–”
“Eli, mama. I Eli!”
“Okay. Eli. I'm not your– I don't even have the parts to be your– will you stop laughing?!”
“This is the greatest thing that has ever happened in my life,” Jackson manages to get out in between bouts of laughter. Stiles really really hates him.
As for Eli, the little guy has managed to wrap his arms around Stiles again, and Stiles… well, okay, he doesn't want to say that he's charmed but… he's charmed.
What? Eli is a cute kid, his pudgy hands gripping onto Stiles’ shirt with hidden strength, hazel eyes bright in the sun, and the most adorable smile on his face. And Stiles isn't heartless enough not to be enamored by someone cuddling up to him. He’s big on touch and if it comes in the form of a kid who seems to be content curling up in his arms, then he isn't going to question it.
Okay, well, he’ll question it a little because what the hell whose kid is this and Stiles is really going to have to have a talk with Eli's parents about boundaries and safety and stranger danger… but for now, Stiles just ignores Jackson, settles Eli a little more comfortably in his lap, and offers him his own name.
“Okay, let’s do this right. Hi, Eli. I'm Stiles.”
“Mama?”
“No. Stiles.”
“Mama Sties.”
“No mama, just– Jesus Christ, I'm arguing with a two year old. Come on, Eli, say Stiles.”
It takes a little more prodding and some words of praise before he finally does get Eli to call him Sties (L is a choice for Eli), though it's interspersed with tiny mumbles of mama.
Which just sets Jackson off every few minutes. Stiles is going to put chili powder in the asshole’s boxers the next time it's his turn to do laundry.
Eli doesn’t have any medical bracelets on him; nothing that would deter Stiles from potentially feeding him, especially when the kid catches sight of the burgers and fries spread out on the blanket and nearly lunges out of Stiles’ lap in his attempt to reach them.
Transferring a few fries into one of the greasy baskets and setting it in front of Eli, Stiles tries for some questions. “Eli? Where are your parents? They must be looking for you, no?”
"We pway. I hide. Ica seek. I find mama,” the little boy gets out in between trying to shove a handful of potato goodness in his mouth, something Stiles dissuades because he refuses to let the kid choke.
“Yeah, yeah, you found me. But… Ica is searching for you? We should find them, yeah?”
Eli shakes his head. “No, Ica find me. Ica woof. Ica good woof. Eli good woof too! Papa best woof!”
Stiles frowns, stealing a few fries from Jackson’s stash, ignoring the affronted protest, “Woof? What the heck is– oh my god, wolf? Eli, are you saying wolf?”
The little boy looks pleased, clapping his hands together, mouth covered in oil and salt. “Woof woof!”
Stiles, for his part, is trying not to panic, because, “Oh my god, this is a werewolf kid! Jackson! What do I do with a werewolf kid??”
Jackson shrugs, offering Eli his sunglasses with a little coo, the man shifting from a seated position to down onto his belly so that he can tickle Eli’s stomach, and Stiles will absolutely make fun of him for that later on because who knew Jackson had a soft spot for kids? “No clue, but damn this is a cute kid. Wonder who his actual mom is? Or even where his dad is? You'd think someone would be searching for him.”
“Maybe we should call my dad. And where the heck is Scott; he’s supposed to be back here with our dri–”
“Hey, guys!”
Speak of the devil. Scott shows up, uneven jawline and chilled bottles of beer in hand, and he plops down onto the blanket with a little huff. He grins at Stiles, waves at Eli, tosses a bottle at Jackson… and then does a double take, staring at Eli who's now got Jackson's sunglasses on his head and is munching away on more fries.
“Is that a bab– did you steal a baby?”
Christ, Stiles needs new friends. “No, I did not steal a baby, you idiot! He just showed up here and he started calling me mama. His name is Eli. He's a werewolf.”
Scott frowns, leaning in a little to take a deep inhale. “Doesn't smell like any pack I know. Is there a pho– what do you mean he started calling you mama??”
Jackson is laughing again, face going red and seriously, Stiles is going to ruin this fucker’s silk pajamas.
“Scotty. Buddy. I need you to be helpful right now and see if you can sniff out his parents because there needs to be a good explanation as to why a random kid has stuck himself to m–”
“Eli!!”
The call echoes across the park and the three men’s heads swivel up and to the side to the sight of three people charging at them. A blonde woman, a tall lanky curly haired guy and a muscular dark skinned dude. It’s kinda a terrifying sight because all three are half wolfed out and Stiles can't help but immediately grab Eli and hold him close to his chest, angling the little boy away from the three wolves. Beside him, he hears Scott snarl, and can see his friend shift too, in response to the open aggression.
But Eli seems delighted at the sight of the incoming wolves, clapping his hands together. “Ica! Ica find me!”
The blonde steps up, flashing golden eyes and a mouthful of fangs as she glares at Stiles. “Dude, let go of my nephew before I–”
“Ica! My Sties!” Eli says, his greasy hand curling into Stiles’ shirt again and it's enough to make the woman clamp her mouth shut, eyebrows furrowing.
“Eli. Baby, I don’t know what a sties is but that’s a stranger and we don’t go running to strangers, you know bette–”
“No stanger. Sties. My Sties. Mama Sties!” The little boy says staunchly, his lower lip trembling, and Stiles finds himself torn because on one hand this is great he can totally foist Eli back to what seems like his family but on the other… oh dear god, he can’t deal with the trembling lower lip.
It's the only reason he runs a comforting hand down the little boys’ back, ignoring the subsequent growl from… Ica.
Stiles holds up a hand in defense. “Look, I don't want any trouble. Eli just kinda popped out of nowhere, and he called me mama, and I just kept him here until we could find out whose he was. Scott’s a werewolf, we were going to try and find out where his pack was.”
The tall lanky one has shifted back to human and he’s damn cute, all curly hair and angelic features but with a smirk that promises trouble. He looks at the blonde. “Huh… he’s telling the truth, Erica. Heartbeat’s steady.”
That seems to settle their hackles because the other two shift back to human too, and damn, does everyone in this pack look that good? The three wolves go down on their knees, close to the blanket, offering apologetic smiles.
“Sorry about that. He’s our alpha’s kid, we were just worried. We’ll get him out of your hair. Come on, Eli. Say thank you to the nice mama,” Erica says, lips curling into a snarky grin and ooohhh Stiles would like to be friends with her because she absolutely is such a little shit.
“Funny,” he deadpans with a stuck out tongue before looking down at Eli. “It was nice to meet you, Eli. But it's time to go back to–”
He’s nearly knocked onto his back with how quickly and forcefully Eli clambers upright and wraps his arms and legs around Stiles. “No! No leave mama! Eli stay!”
“Eli, that's not–”
“Oh, Derek is going to love this,” the tall one mutters. He yelps when the other man smacks him upside the head.
“Shut up and call Derek, Isaac. Let him know we found Eli. I'm Boyd, by the way. Nice to meet ya’ll.”
“I'm Scott. This is Jackson and mama over there is Stiles.”
Over Isaac making the call and Erica trying in vain to have Eli let go, Stiles sends Scott a venomous glare. “I will put wolfsbane in your cereal, don't try me.”
Scott just grins back, blowing Stiles a kiss. Stiles is putting wolfsbane in his cereal and his boxers.
“Eli, come on, don’t you want to see dada? He was worried sick for you.” Erica's close now, her own hand on Eli’s back, coaxing him to let go but Eli is stuck fast to Stiles, now pushing his head into Stiles’ neck, scenting him. Which… yeah, that was on Stiles, he should have realized how similar Eli and Scott were with the sniffing and the nuzzling.
“No Ica. Eli, stay! No leave ma–”
“Eli!!!” There’s a new voice echoing in the park and Stiles looks away from Erica and sees…
He sees his future husband. The man for whom he’ll bear children for - never mind that he doesn't have the parts for it. The man Stiles would one hundred percent consider becoming mama to Eli for because holy hell what the fuck who the fuck is that?!
Whatever his scent is doing is enough to have Boyd, Erica, Isaac and Scott send him amused looks, and Stiles feels his face go hot as the man he assumes is Derek runs for them.
“Eli! Baby, you cannot run away like that what are you–”
“Dada! I find mama. My mama Sties!” For the first time since he’d barreled into Stiles, Eli lets go to lunge for his father, who quickly gathers the little boy into his arms and hugs him tight.
Then his son's words register and he pulls back to stare at Stiles… who flushes red and tries not to look and feel so stupid. Because Derek is… for fucks sake, Derek is hot. Unlike the rest of his betas who are all dressed casually in jeans and sweatshirts, Derek is dressed in tailored grey trousers that stretch obnoxiously over his obnoxious thighs, and a navy blue shirt that stretches ridiculously over his ridiculous chest. The sleeves are rolled up too, revealing hairy arms, and the buttons of the shirt have been undone at the top which means Stiles can see the few dark curls of hair peeking near his chest.
And to top it all off (because the universe is enjoying kicking him today), Derek is blessed with facial hair that Stiles would like to feel on the inside of his thighs.
Motherfucker.
“Hello.”
Oh, Lord fuck a duck, that’s his voice? He sounds like that regularly? What does he sound like in be– nope, bad idea Stilinski, fucking respond you walnut, the Sex God Man Dad is saying hello to you!
Swallowing, Stiles clambers up to his feet because having Derek loom over him was just… oh god more bad thoughts dirty thoughts nope.
“Um… hi. I’m mama– Stiles. I'm Stiles!”
The flub makes the three betas behind Derek snort, something that makes the Alpha growl out a warning and ohh hello new growl kink where have you been? The scowl on his face softens though when he looks at Stiles, offering a smile and– oh Jesus on a curly fry, are those bunny teeth why does the universe hate him?
“I'm Derek. I'm so sorry about Eli and the whole… mama thing.”
Stiles waves a hand… though he might be trying to fan at his face too. “Ahh… no, it's fine. He wasn’t any trouble and if anything, I should apologize to you. And his actual mom. Is she–”
“She isn't in the picture,” Derek cuts in quickly, and huh, okay, calm down heart, not a good enough reason to go skipping. “Jennifer and I are separated. She… she was a mistake. Eli's the best thing that came out of that though so I can't be too upset.”
The call of his name makes Eli giggle, the little boy squishing his father’s face between his pudgy hands. “Dada.”
It should not make Stiles melt to see the way Derek softens, the man’s green eyes flashing red for a moment as he bumps foreheads with his son. Fucking almighty, that is cute.
Cute kids melting his brain is the only reason his mouth goes with, “Well, he is adorable. And he’s a damn cute kid. Makes sense though, I mean look at his dad- oh my god.”
Behind him, Jackson and Scott sound like dying walruses and Isaac, Erica and Boyd aren’t any better. Stiles hates them all and decides right then and there, they are enemies for life.
"Please ignore me, I’m- wow… the uhh… the heat has gotten to me. I’m gonna–”
“We should head back, Der,” Boyd cuts in, and okay, maybe Stiles will keep Boyd as a friend because he’s the only one who seems to care that a sinkhole refuses to open up beneath Stiles’ feet. “Cora just texted saying that she and Peter are on their way back to the loft.”
Derek, for some reason, looks disappointed, but he nods, shifting Eli so that the boy is tucked firmly against his chest. “My pack and I just moved here. So, maybe I'll see you around.”
Oh… Stiles would like that very much. On a day that he doesn’t make a complete fool of himself. “Yeah, maybe. It was nice to meet you guys.” To Eli, Stiles offers a grin and a wag of his fingers, thinking that it might not be the worst thing in the world if he saw the little boy again. “See ya, Eli. Be good!”
Derek grins, and takes one of Eli's hands to have him wave back. “Good to meet you too. Say bye, Eli."
Thinking that's the end of it, Stiles turns back to Jackson and Scott, ready to unleash hell onto the traitors as he hears the sound of Derek walking away.
But he’s hardly taken a step when Eli lets out a loud cry, and Stiles immediately whips around to see the little boy looking at him, eyes red and watery and betrayed. “No Sties! No go! No leave Eli!”
Stiles finds himself frozen as Derek tries to soothe his son. “Eli, sweetheart, Stiles can't come with us. He has his own pack. You know how Erica, Isaac, Boyd, Cora, and grandpa Peter are pack? They stay with us. And Stiles stays with his pack. Come on, be a good boy and say bye to Stiles.”
But Eli refuses to be soothed, now wailing, his pudgy little hands beating at Derek's chest, great tears running over his cheeks as he cries for Stiles. The other three betas are crowding close, all trying to appease him but they're wildly unsuccessful.
Scott tugs at Stiles’ elbow, muttering, “Maybe we should go. It might help if he doesn't see you.”
That's a great idea. Stiles should totally do that.
…except that he’s fucking frozen in place, heart breaking into a million pieces as Eli cries and cries and cries for him, those tiny hands stretching out.
“Pwease, Sties! Pwease no go!”
He’s moving before he can think about why it’s a terribly terrible idea.
Without a care for the werewolves in his way, Stiles is shoving past them and reaching out for Eli as well, bringing the boy close to his chest, peppering his chubby cheeks with little kisses.
Eli sniffs, nose pressed into the junction of Stiles’ neck, his little fists clutching Stiles’ shirt as he mumbles 'Sties no go’ and fucking hell, Stiles apparently has the will power of a wet tissue because he’s nodding before he can think better of it.
“I'm not going anywhere, okay buddy? I'm right here. Come on, sweetheart, don’t cry. It’s okay. Stiles is right here.”
No one speaks for a long moment, other than Eli whimpering softly, his wet face rubbing against Stiles.
And then Jackson speaks, “So should we tell the Sheriff that he's now a grandfather or–”
“Shut up, Jackson.”
Ignoring the cackling going on, Stiles continues to rub Eli’s back and lifts his head to potentially ask Derek about maybe spending some more time at the park until they can kinda get Eli to go home but he finds the words stuck in his throat.
Because apparently, when Eli came into Stiles’ arms, he hadn’t actually completely let go of Derek.
Now that he thinks about it, there are two hands on Eli’s back, only one of which is Stiles’ and there’s a long line of heat pressed against the side of his body and… okay, yeah Stiles is very up close and personal with a very good looking wolf whose eyes are flashing red as he raises an eyebrow.
“So… not going anywhere, huh?”
Stiles swallows, and tries not to think too much of it when Derek seems to follow the movement of his throat. “I, well– I’m sorry! I couldn't bear to hear him cry like that and I'm probably overstepping–”
“You aren’t,” Derek says, the same time Isaac says, “You totally are.”
The Alpha lets out a snarl, loud enough that his three betas flinch, their eyes flashing gold in response.
“You three, get back to the lo–”
“Oh, heck no. This is prime entertainment, I ain’t leaving!” This comes from Erica who shoulders her way past Jackson to plop herself onto the blanket, swiping at some fries. “You boys mind moving? You’re blocking the gay!”
Ohh, Stiles definitely wants to be friends with her. She’s such a little shit, but at this moment, he’s thinking about how much wolfsbane he has and is it enough for the four wolves and one human he absolutely hates.
“I hate your betas, just so you know,” he tells Derek, shifting in place and trying not to think about how damn good Derek smells. What is that? Pine? Firewood? Leather? Of course the sexy alpha wolf smells like leather, fuckin–
“Yo, Stiles. There are children present,” Scott says, laughter in his voice, “Tone it down, man.”
“Stop sniffing me!” Stiles snaps at him before looking at Derek, “Listen, I’m sorry for all this. I just don’t want to see Eli upset.”
Derek offers him a smile that does weird squiggly things to his heart. “I don’t like seeing my son upset either. And since both my son and his wolf seem to like you, and I trust my son, well… I don’t see any reason why you and I can’t spend more time together. Especially if it would make Eli happy.”
Is that a hand on his waist? It feels like a brush of fingers on his waist. Yup, that’s definitely fingers on his waist… which is why Stiles gets just enough courage to ask, “Only Eli?”
The smirk Derek gives sends his heart fucking galloping. “No. Not just Eli. It would make me very happy too.”
Oh, look, his knees don’t work anymore, and Stiles would have definitely turned into a veritable puddle on the ground if it weren’t for the arm that wraps itself around his hip, tucking him firmly into Derek’s side.
“Oh my god, does his face normally go that shade? Is your token human dying?” Isaac asks in a faux-whisper, and Jesus, when are these assholes going to leave?
Derek seems to have the same thought because he reaches into the back of his trousers and tugs out a pair of keys that gets tossed towards Boyd. “All three of you, get going. Tell Cora that Eli and I will be by later.”
“Where are you going?”
“On a date.” If it's at all possible to flush harder, Stiles has done it, and he can't help but duck his head, pressing his heated cheeks against Eli's head. Derek still hasn’t let go of either of them. “Now shoo. And take Stiles’ friends with you. I have a feeling our packs are about to get a lot more acquainted.”
A tap to his shoulder has Stiles looking up at Jackson and Scott's amused faces, with Boyd in the background bodily heaving a protesting Erica to her feet.
“So… should we be expecting wedding invites soon?”
“I will shove mistletoe so far up your butt you’re going to throw up tinsel,” Stiles growls back even as the wolves laugh around him.
Turns out, Scott was right. The asshole.
The wedding invites are sent out two months later, and in four months, Eli toddles down the aisle on Jackson's shoulders, both decked out in sunglasses and tuxes as they toss flower petals.
Noah still grumbles about being a grandfather so young but he absolutely adores and dotes on Eli. Plus it does Derek many favors that he and Eli come with a very good looking uncle Peter who takes a shine to the Sheriff.
Isaac, Erica and Stiles do get along like a house on fire, though none of them will ever let the mama thing go.
Scott tries calling Stiles mama once. He never does it again after his boxers get coated in a mixture of chili powder and mountain ash.
As for Derek, he kisses Stiles silly anytime Eli calls the other man mama because of course the wolf has a kink.
Stiles says he’ll train Eli out of it but the soft smile on his face and the way he squeezes their son close every time tells Derek that’s probably never going to happen.
Ooo