it’s been a month since the incident with the old lady at the grocery store. derek wakes up in the guest room or what he and stiles have both started calling his room, listens to stiles bang around in the next room, getting ready for work before deciding to get up himself.

he’s been working on his family’s house for a while now, trying to get it back to its former glory or as close to it as he can manage. he’s making fried eggs, a little runny like stiles likes them, when it finally hits him.

and, damn, if it isn’t a shock. the toast popping up shocks him out of it and derek ends up scooping the eggs onto a plate. he adds toast and is pouring glasses of orange juice when stiles wanders into the kitchen.

he says something but derek is too caught up in his own mind to catch it.

“what?”

stiles looks over at him, eyebrow lifted as he cuts into his eggs. “i said thanks for making breakfast.”

derek nods a little, “no problem,” he murmurs, setting one of the glasses of orange juice in front of stiles, before taking a drink of his own.

“i should get off early today,” stiles states, looking in derek’s direction, “i can pick us up something.”

nodding, derek finishes his glass and sets it in the sink, moving so stiles can put his own dishes in as well. he watches stiles leave, realizes that the other’s badge is still sitting on the counter.

derek shakes his head and grabs it, heading out the door, just as stiles starts to back out the driveway. he crosses in front of the car around to the driver’s sider, leaning in towards the window, one arm bracing him on the top of the door, “forget something?”

stiles grins sheepishly at derek, taking the badge from his grasp. “thanks,” he murmurs and presses his lips to derek’s cheek.

derek can only stare after stiles’s car in mild shock.

on stiles’s day off, he doesn’t wear his uniform. derek isn’t sure how to feel about that, especially when he discovers that his uniform is replaced with basket ball shorts that he can barely keep above the waist band of his boxers, because even if stiles has filled out and does have a nice ass, it’s still not enough to keep anything up around his hips without a belt or tie.

derek also learns that stiles is an obsessive cleaner. and every time he tries to help, he just gets shooed out of the way. he figures he finally wears stiles down enough when stiles shoves the broom into his hands and then not so gently shoves him out of the dining room and into the kitchen.

once stiles deems the place clean again, derek finds himself getting dragged across town so stiles can buy groceries and pester him about what he likes to eat. it’s an adventure and they seem to argue about everything that ends up in the cart.

it’s all going pretty good until this little old lady wanders over, barely paying derek any mind as she hugs stiles and pinches his cheeks, causing him to flush red as she fawns over him.

derek’s simply watching in amusement when she turns in his direction. “you must be the young man that’s gotten poor stiles all enamored and tongue tied,” she states and pats his cheek.

she turns back to stiles, “he is quite handsome,” and derek wants to laugh because stiles looks like a fish but he’s too busy trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

she says something else to stiles, thanking him derek thinks, before she wanders off, leaving the two of them standing in the cereal and juice aisle. “don’t say a word, hale.”

stiles is fuming. livid, furious, angry, mad, and every other word under the sun that means he’s about to rip derek’s intestines out with his bare fists. he’s so angry that the violent and very gross thought doesn’t even make him pauses as he storms up the newly redone steps of the hale house.

he doesn’t even knock, just bursts in. “derek!”

derek’s head pops from around the door frame to the kitchen, eyebrows almost comically high. “what?”

“of all the stupid, stubborn, pig headed, annoying things you’ve done, i think you’ve finally managed to outdo yourself for once!”

derek still looks confused, stepping into the entry way where stiles is, but keeping his distance, “what’s your problem now?”

stiles looks like he’s considering impaling derek on the sharpest object necessary so the werewolf takes a step back without realizing it. “jeremy! you actually attempted to threaten jeremy!”

oh. derek shrugs and lifts an eyebrow, “so?”

stiles stalks forwards, pressing a finger into derek’s chest, “you don’t get to threaten him away from me! you don’t have the right! even if you hadn’t broken up with me, you still wouldn’t have the right!”

derek rubs the spot on his chest, watching stiles storm off, “shit.”

derek isn’t sure how many glasses of scotch stiles has downed yet, but he vaguely wishes that he could get drunk as well. especially because it seems the more alcohol he takes in, the more prone stiles is at trying to get naked.

his button up is long gone with his belt, sitting there in his uniform pants and undershirt that looks about a size too small, stretched across his shoulders as he knocks back another glass. “i swear, if i had known that being a cop came with so much damn paperwork, i would’ve done something else.”

derek finds that hard to believe cause stiles’s dad was the sheriff, but he doesn’t mention it, just makes another attempt at retrieving the bottle from stiles’s grasp. all that he achieves is causing stiles to topple over out of his chair.

he finds himself jumping out of the chair and going to the younger male without even thinking about it, pulling him up off the floor, “you alright?”

“jus’peachy,” stiles murmurs, voice slurring a little as he slumps into derek, bottle forgotten on the floor as he clings to the werewolf.

derek huffs, holding stiles up and starting for the stairs. if he had thought that stiles was impossible as a teenager, he was clearly not prepared for him as an adult. the younger man’s like an octopus, trying to wrap himself completely around derek and almost completely refusing to be any help in getting himself up the stairs.

it’s only because of derek’s superhuman strength that they make it up the stairs without falling. from there it’s getting him into his bedroom and onto the bed without ending up in the bed himself. derek briefly considers helping stiles out of his clothes because he can’t see them being comfortable to sleep in.

he’s already decided that that’s probably not his best idea when he gets hit in the face by stiles’s undershirt, which he lets fall to the floor in time to see stiles trying to squirm his way out of his pants. derek leaves before he decides to do something he’ll regret.

derek’s been back in beacon hills for a week now and still hasn’t recovered from the fact that stiles willingly offered him the guest room of his house to crash. and derek will swallow his own tongue before admitting out loud that it mostly has to do with the fact that he has to see stiles in uniform everyday.

he tries to distract himself, tracks down the rest of the group.

scott and allison are living in a small apartment in town, scott still working his way through veterinary school and allison through nursing school. they’re the same as ever, not that stiles hadn’t warned him, sickeningly sweet and still in love.

jackson, he finds at the high school. apparently finstock went crazy - crazier - about a year after they all graduated and the school offered jackson the spot before he’d even finished college. apparently he was doing a good job, if the state champion trophy in his office was anything to go by.

jackson was the one to inform him about lydia - he’d given up trying to get information out of stiles the first night. how she had healed naturally after he had left, how she was still human and still irritating as ever, even if she had married and had a brat of her own.

derek doesn’t mention how bitter he sounds, but it doesn’t stop jackson from pointing out how tense derek is, the smug bastard.

derek’s sitting at the table, nursing a glass of scotch when stiles walks in. he barely keeps his jaw from hitting his lap as stiles snatches the glass from him and downs the last of the drink in one go. “rough day?”

stiles sets the glass back in derek’s hand, shaking his head, “nah, good day,” he replies, grins, and turns, walking into the kitchen. 

derek’s mind hasn’t caught up enough to keep himself from staring at stiles’s ass as he goes.

after finishing all his paperwork and going to see his house in the same burnt out state he had left it, derek can’t keep himself away anymore, finds himself sitting outside stiles’s house. apparently in the years he had been gone, the sheriff had died - heart attack, stiles had left and come back from college, the argents - minus allison - had moved on to the next wolf infested town, and jackson had managed to keep a lid on everything pack related.

he doesn’t even hear an approach until someone knocks on his window and derek looks up to find stiles there, looking amused. derek huffs and rolls the window down, “what?”

“why don’t you stop spying and come inside?” stiles suggests, not even waiting for an answer as he walked back towards the house, still in uniform, though his jacket is gone. derek finds himself having to take a minute to calm the wolf before he follows after stiles.

an unpaid parking ticket from eight years ago has derek sitting at a desk in the beacon hills police station, filling out paper work and a check. or, really, pretending he is while checking out the ass of the deputy a few desks away. he’s yet to see the guy’s face because since he’s walked in, the guy has been leaning half way across his desk, talking to someone that derek can’t see.

but maybe derek is appreciating it too much because the guy straightens out and turns, walking towards the sheriff’s office and derek has to swallow around the lump in his throat, directing his attention back to his own paperwork.

“derek?”

well, shit.

derek lifts his head enough to catch sight of the deputy whose ass he had been checking out, standing up and coming face to face with stiles stilinski. “stilinski.”

well, at least his grin hasn’t changed. derek has flashes of the small gangly teenager that he last saw, but apparently he was replaced by a tall, filled out police deputy who clearly wears his pants a size too small.

“holy shit, the mighty derek hale back in beacon hills.” his mouth hasn’t changed either. “jackson isn’t going to believe this.”

derek knows he must look confused by stiles merely grins at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “i’d love to stay and chat, but i got to get this one home,” he gestures towards his desk and a red headed toddler wanders over, immediately latching on to stiles’s leg.

derek feels a pang. it might be jealousy, but he isn’t sure.

“uncle stiles, can i go home now?” the knot in derek’s chest loosens a little, but it just tightens back as stiles lifts the kid into his arms, talking to him in soft words. his wolf is having an almighty fit just under the surface, derek doesn’t blame it either.

“we’ll catch up later, yeah, derek?” stiles grins at him before starting out of the building. the child makes a face at derek over stiles’s shoulder, like a wolf howling at the moon, and derek sighs, knowing he better make arrangements to stick around for a while.

he sits back down to finish his paper work, looking at stiles’s desk once more. maybe more than a while, if he actually decides to claim his mate this time around. his wolf seems to like the thought of that.

stiles doesn’t even go home after school anymore. just heads straight for the newly remodeled hale house, letting himself in the side door to the kitchen. he never checks to see if derek’s home anymore, just sets himself up at the kitchen table to do his homework or as much of it as he can manage with his attention span.

regardless of if derek was already there or not, he always wanders in at some point, watching stiles over his shoulders for a few minutes, sometimes rubbing stiles’s shoulders before moving to find something for dinner.

on any given day, scott, lydia, jackson, or danny might make an appearance or sometimes it’s just the two of them. this time it’s just the two of them, eating through left over pizza, stiles rambling on about his day before prodding until derek gives up on details about his day.

depending on what day of the week it is or what’s going on, some nights stiles will head home after dinner, but most nights they end up on the couch watching tv. stiles wiggles his way as close to derek as possible without actually climbing into his clothes with him.

lydia stumbles upon them around eight or so, stiles snoring softly against derek’s chest, and has to smirk when the alpha looks her way, “you two are so married.”

cackles.

stiles has to pick his way through plywood, 2 by 4s, nails, and various other testaments to derek’s remodeling before he even gets to the porch. skipping the second step, he walks into the house without even knocking, opening his mouth to call out to the werewolf but finds himself staring at the ceiling dazedly. “wha-?”

derek is crowding him into the newly done wood floors, nosing along his neck, and stiles is pretty sure he’s got a concussion. “dude!”

stiles lifts an eyebrow when the older male pulls back, pupils blown wide, and swallows heavily, “oh.”

“yeah, oh,” derek replies, voice rough as he leans back down, this time mouthing along stiles’s jaw. “did you just get out of the shower?”

“huh? oh, yeah, totally, after lacrosse practice,” and he definitely doesn’t squeak when he’s suddenly off the floor, hanging on to derek for dear life as the older male walks further into the house.