Chapter Text
"You said he sounded nice, right?"
Stiles swallows hard, tries to let the hand Derek has on the small of his back soothe him like it usually does but he's a bundle of nerves ready to unravel which is beyond calming touches. Chester, on his other side, is kind of feeding off his anxiety which should make Stiles stomp down on it, but these are pretty unusual circumstances.
"We're currently standing in the best case scenario right now. He wanted to meet you," Derek adds. His hand travels up to the short hairs at Stiles' nape, thumb rubbing through them. Stiles slaps him away because that touch is not a calm touch and Derek knows it.
"Maybe I need to run around the block a few times," Stiles says, shaking his hands out. He's the embodiment of nervous energy and doesn't want to freak anyone out by being a twitching mess.
Especially his dad.
That's who he's meeting, for the first time ever. All the zen attitude Derek is trying to push onto him is just being dashed to pieces on the craggy shores of Stiles' insecurity.
"You've got to go in at some point. Might as well be now before the guy starts thinking you've stood him up," Derek says.
"Don't rush me. I'm working up to it."
"Look, Isaac and I will be in the cafe down... Christ, there's a lot of cafes on this street," Derek muses.
"I know, right? Totally weird. Maybe we should-"
"Stiles," Derek says, catching a hold of both Stiles' hands which he'd been wringing anxiously. Derek presses a kiss to Stiles' mooshed-together fingers and Chester and Isaac try not to look too grossed out which is nice of them, shows real growth. "Go meet your dad."
"Alright," Stiles breathes, then grips Chester by the arm and tugs him forward.
The little eatery they're meeting at reminds Stiles of Derek's diner. There's even a surly-looking man with a dishtowel over one shoulder behind the counter that looks to be just waiting for someone to dare ask for the free coffee refill advertised. Stiles looks around but it's Chester that spots the man in the uniform, a newspaper in front of him he is obviously not reading and a fork gripped in one hand while he dithers over an untouched plate of eggs.
Chester puts an elbow to Stiles' back and he scowls at his kid, making an alright already face before they approach. Chester trails him, one hand knotted in the sleeve of Stiles' shirt which makes Stiles kind of ache for him, wonder if maybe he should have left Chester out of the first meeting in case it ends badly.
They reach Sheriff Stilinski's table and then kind of hover awkwardly, Stiles unsure how to announce them. He clears his throat a little but before he can say anything, Sheriff Stilinski looks up at them, a mild smile on his face and says, "Can I help you guys?"
"Oh, um, I'm-" Stiles starts to splutter, but then a mixture of shock and recognition pass over the Sheriff's face and his hand jerks, knocking his coffee cup clear across his table and onto the floor. Stiles fights the urge to smile, thinking that maybe he's found the reason behind his ability to cause surprise destruction.
Looks like it might be hereditary.
"Oh, hey!" the Sheriff says hurriedly, standing and trying to edge around the table, waving at a waitress he must know who rolls her eyes but has an indulgent smile on her face which looks a lot like Derek whenever Stiles knocks stuff over in his diner. "I wasn't expecting... I mean you're different than..." The Sheriff kind of flails helplessly.
Stiles tries to ignore the reflexive stab of hurt he feels, wondering how he managed to disappoint the man already. His confidence flags and Stiles can feel Chester's grip tighten on his sleeve but then the Sheriff blurts, "I just... you said you had a son but I was expecting a little fella."
Stiles blinks for a second, replays the all-too-brief phone conversation he'd had with Sheriff Stilinski in his head and realizes belatedly that he hadn't in fact explained that Chester was nearly grown. It must have been a hell of a surprise for the Sheriff and Stiles snorts. The first words out of his mouth, when face to face with the father he's always yearned for is, "Yeah, me and my mom. Two teen-pregnancy peas in a pod it turns out."
He's a disaster.
The Sheriff's eyes widen for a moment and Stiles thinks maybe in one fell swoop he's ruined everything, but then the man is doubled over laughing. There's a slightly hysterical edge to it, but Stiles can understand. He's felt a little ragged the last few days leading up to this meeting himself.
The waitress with a name tag that says Donna, bustles over to the table and makes quick work of the clean up before retreating. The Sheriff indicates that they should sit and Stiles does, gratefully, Chester sprawling in the seat to his left. "So, Stiles and Chester, right?" the Sheriff says. "Uh, did you want to call me Da-"
"Oh, um, no? It's a little soon... if that's okay," Stiles says. He doesn't miss the flash of disappointment in the man's eyes but is appreciative of the understanding that quickly replaces it. "Although, calling you by your first name might be just as weird."
"Well, everyone calls me Sheriff so you guys can to, just till you're more comfortable with... the other thing," the Sheriff offers with a game smile and Stiles nods. If this all works out, he definitely wants to transition to the other thing and it might be easier he's moving from Sheriff to that instead of feeling like the guy's buddy by calling him by his first name.
"Can I call you Gramps?" Chester asks, suddenly bold and the Sheriff chokes a little on the sip of coffee he's just taken from a new cup dropped off by Donna.
"Uh, sure?"
"Chester!" Stiles hisses.
"No, it's totally fine," the Sheriff says quickly. "The boys down at the station will love that."
"Oh, you've told-?"
"No! I mean, not yet. Thought we should meet first and see how everything goes," the Sheriff says. "I mean, have you?"
"Just, um." Stiles thinks of Derek and Isaac. "Just family."
"Right, good, that's good."
"Is it me or is this the weirdest conversation ever?" Stiles asks and that get a genuine smile out of the Sheriff finally, who sits back a little and nods, more relaxed. "Okay, I think a zillion questions are in order, right?"
"Shoot," the Sheriff says agreeably.
"So do you have family? Like, a family?"
"I never married, didn't have kids, if that's what you're asking," the Sheriff says, then kind of pulls a face at himself. "I mean, I didn't have other kids."
"Right, so, did you know about us?"
The Sheriff sits forward again, pushes his coffee cup aside and rests his elbows on the table. "How much did your mom tell you?"
"Not much about where you were. Just, whenever she talked about you, it was good."
The Sheriff's smile is a little sad then and he scratches a thumb over his brow. "I knew about you for the first three months when your mom was pregnant. I know it sounds really weird since I was a nineteen year old kid, but I was completely excited by the prospect. I think your mom was more scared and I really... I freaked her out by making all these plans for our future."
"You wanted that?" Stiles asks, surprised. Doesn't ask what he really wants to. You wanted me?
"Oh yeah. I probably needed my head read because we were both way too young, but before we'd found out Angie was pregnant, I was already thinking about marrying her, knew she was the one."
"Wow, so, what happened?"
"I really spooked her. She just... disappeared one day. I went to her parent's house and they wouldn't help me find her." Chester makes a small, distressed noise at that and Stiles touches his hand, knows Chester is thinking of the great-grandparents that he now loves. "About three months after that I got a letter. She told me that she'd lost you."
Stiles' grip on Chester's hand gets tighter and Chester returns it. The Sheriff watches the way they touch, easy and grounding and there's something wistful on his face. "I'm sorry," Stiles murmurs.
"I was never angry. She was young and terrified and I think she thought she would be ruining both our lives."
They all sit in silence for a while, mulling things over. Donna returns to refill the Sheriff's cup and Stiles turns his own over and accepts coffee so he has something to do with his hands. The caffeine would be a really terrible idea at the moment so he doesn't actually drink any, but he turns it around and around in his fingers, the pads warm where they meet ceramic.
"When you would have been about eighteen I think, I got another letter from her out of the blue. She'd sent it to my parent's house which I'd inherited when they passed on. I had all the mail from the place forwarded to my apartment so I got it. She said she was sorry, that she'd had you after all. She asked for forgiveness and for me to be patient, to let you come to me because she was certain you would."
"I did... nearly," Stiles says, a lump in his throat thinking about what prompted his mom to send the letter, knowing she was going when Stiles had Chester and no other options, no other support. "I made it all the way to Beacon Hills."
"You've been there all this time?" the Sheriff asks, sounding a little choked.
"Yeah, I got taken in by this really great guy who have me a job and a roof over my head. He owns the Inn I manage now."
*
"He was nice. We agreed to take it slow. He's going to come for dinner in a few weeks to our place. Give us both time to think about stuff before we reconvene."
"That's good," Derek says, sweeping Stiles' back with his hands. Stiles leans away and looks into Derek's eyes because he's gone a little stiff.
"You guys too," he says.
"Oh, I wasn't sure-"
"He wants to meet you guys. I told him about you," Stiles says and Derek ducks his face, but Stiles still catches the edge of the pleased smile he's trying to hide. Isaac and Chester have wandered a little away from them and Stiles pulls on his lower lip, brow crinkling. "I'm just... I'm worried."
"About?"
"What if Chester gets attached and then... it doesn't work out? I mean, that was why I avoided relationships for so long. I just couldn't risk him getting hurt like that, poor kid."
"I'm not saying he won't be hurt if that happens, but he's pretty mature. He'll probably handle it better than you will."
"Yeah, probably," Stiles agrees. As he watches, Chester and Isaac get into an argument about who's taller and it seems to require a resolution that involves a thumb war. "Oh yeah, way more mature than me."
"You demanded we rock, paper, scissors only last week to see who would pick what we were having for dinner."
"You always want steak. I need tofu in my life."
"I'm just saying that you guys are very similar and he's fifteen. You're not."
"He's sixteen next weekend," Stiles says and it's one more thing to be depressed about. He wanted Chester to stay forever in the single digits age wise because then he wouldn't have to face Chester leaving and boyfriends and anything else that could give him a heart attack.
"Do you know what he wants?" Derek asks, accepting the change in subject like a champ.
"Books probably. Go to a bookstore and weigh books until you find the heaviest one. He'll be thrilled."
"I don't think it works like that."
"P'shaw!" Stiles says.
"What did you get him?"
"A fantastic party Saturday night."
"His birthday's on Friday though," Derek says, frowning. Stiles has always been a stickler for having parties on the actual day, no matter if it was mid-week or not so Stiles can understand his confusion.
"The grand-evils were a little inflexible about it being their Friday night," Stiles says glumly. "They're throwing him their own party, Chilton kids only."
"Does he want that?" Derek asks.
"He wants to please them," Stiles says, pulling a face. "So, killer Saturday night party with the whole town it is."
"The whole town?" Derek asks, looks a little green at the prospect. He hasn't realized yet that throwing in his lot with the Stilinski's means that he's also thrown in with their social obligations, like that they can't risk offending anyone when it comes to a Chester birthday party and it ends up being an event that spills over to adjoining houses. Stiles is thinking he's probably going to have to hire out Erica's dance studio or maybe the town common for Chester's eighteenth.
"Yep, and there is no way you're bailing, buster," Stiles says.
"I don't really like cro-"
"You like Chester, therefore attendance is mandatory."
Derek still looks a little horrified, but he also very grudgingly nods and Stiles hugs his neck.
*
Just Chester and his friends, don't you think it would be better Felicia, his grandmother had said and Stiles had agreed because he couldn't really do anything else. They accepted his presence at the dinners even though they barely acknowledged him, it seems they've drawn a line at a party they're throwing mostly to show off to their society friends. Stiles is pretty sure the party will be full of other acceptable parents but he doesn't want to argue, isn't selfish enough to want to ruin Chester's night.
"Uh, no," Chester says, fidgeting.
"You asked Felicia if he could come, though. I heard you on the phone," Stiles says, frowning. He's pretty sure Isaac's become devoted over the last few months and that he would drop anything to hang out with Chester, especially on his birthday.
"She didn't think it was a good idea," he says into his chest and Stiles watches his kid frown down at his hands.
"Because he wouldn't know anyone I suppose," Stiles says, offering his grandmother an out she doesn't deserve. Chester's very grimly hanging onto the notion that his great-grandparents are good people but it seems Felicia is determined to prove him wrong.
"I guess," Chester says, and now he sounds downright glum.
"How about we bring him to dinner next week?" Stiles propose, feeling slightly evil for suggesting it, but also wanting to make Chester perk up a little bit. He'd already been hesitant about the party considering Stiles didn't rate an invitation, but Stiles doesn't want him dwelling on it. He's allowed to enjoy himself, despite the ulterior motives Felicia and Davis might have. "Your great-grandparents can get to know him and they'll warm up."
Stiles thinks an ice cube has a better chance of warming up in Antarctica but he doesn't say that.
"Okay," Chester agrees, rallying admirably. By the time they're pulling up to Stiles' grandparents place, he's smiling and chatting and Stiles thinks of it as a job well done.
They pull up to Castle Greyskull, Stiles definitely has to use that one on Derek later, with Felicia waiting at the top of the stairs for them. Stiles figures it's as much to greet Chester as to hurry Stiles back out of there before the expensive cars start showing up. She won't want the jeep spoiling the view in her turnaround.
Chester bounces out of the car, races around to the driver's side and Stiles pushes the door open so he can hook an arm around Chester's neck and drop a kiss on his forehead. Chester's been an affectionate kid his whole life and Stiles is glad that didn't disappear with the arrival of his teenage years. Chester's then racing up the steps, accepts a kiss from Felicia and then is pushing inside.
Felicia comes down to Stiles and he yanks his door closed again. "I'm going, I'm going," he huffs. He'd been hurt by their outright rejection of him initially, but now it's kind of become background noise to his life, something there and unchangeable. He doesn't even really begrudge Chester his attachment to them, just resents that they didn't feel compelled to become involved in his life sooner.
"Stiles, hold on a second," Felicia says. She's holding onto the polite expression she always wears when she has to deal with him. He wonders if maybe he looks too much like his mom for her to ever really be comfortable with him. "Davis and I were going to propose something to Chester tonight and I thought I should tell you."
Stiles swallows, mouth suddenly dry. He doesn't like where this is going. "What would that be?" he asks slowly.
"Well, we were going to ask Chester to take our name," Felicia says.
"What?"
"The Worthington name opens a lot of doors, more than Stilinski ever will." The way Felicia says Stiles' name, with a little twitch of distaste to her mouth, makes rage course through Stiles' body. He catches hold of it, wrestles it back because he doesn't want to scream at Felicia in her own driveway.
"Chester isn't changing his name," Stiles says through his teeth, surprised at how level he sounds when all he wants to do is get out of his car and shove Felicia into her rose bushes.
"We just think it's ridiculous," Felicia huffs. "He should have been a Worthington already. I don't know what Angela was thinking."
"Probably that she wanted to be as far away from you as possible, and that included your name," Stiles grits out. He's shaking, hands balled into fists and Felicia just arches an eyebrow at him. "Besides, aren't you relieved I'm not a Worthington?"
"That's beside the point," Felicia says, which means yes, which makes Stiles let go of his anger all at once, replaced by sick disappointment because maybe he's not as immune to Felicia's dismissal of him as he thought. She can still stab him in the gut and leave him feeling small.
"You even so much as mention this to Chester and-"
"And what?" Felicia huffs. "We pay for his school, he enjoys his time with us. You care about Chester too much to make good on whatever you were going to threaten so I'm just going to stop you before you embarrass yourself."
"Why are you like this?" Stiles asks. It's not the first time he's asked that particular question, but he's never before directed it at the woman who makes him so frustrated.
"Because you are Angela, through and through," Felicia says. "At least with Chester we see a little hope."
Felicia turns then, makes her way back into the house. Stiles is left standing in her driveway, gaping. He turns around, only manages to reign in the urge to punch his jeep's door because she's had enough abuse lately. Stiles chews on his lip for a second, thinks that it's probably a bad idea to run into the house, grab Chester and then keep on running even though it would make him feel a million times better.
To hell with it. He's got a blissfully free Friday night and a hot boyfriend out there. He has better things to do.
*
Stiles hears the satisfying sound of Derek choking on whatever he was drinking. "Stiles! What?" he manages.
"I don't have to speak in code because I don't have a teenager with me who would be mentally scarred right now. Oh yeah, I also don't have a teenager with me," Stiles reiterates, because that point can't be too emphasized.
"Slow down, what are you doing?"
"We've been dating a month and I haven't even seen you naked. We have two impressionable, easily grossed out teenagers between us so I get it, I do, but I have an empty house, a Derek fever and according to Erica, only a meat thermometer can fix it."
"Oh my god," Derek groans. "Stop talking to Erica. You're banned from talking to Erica."
"She's my spirit animal."
"Are you driving while you're talking on your cell phone? That's really dangerous."
"It's on hands-free and are you seriously giving me a safety lecture when I'm in the middle of a booty call?"
"Don't call it that."
"Deeeeeeeerek!" Stiles wails, would beat his head against his own steering wheel if he weren't, in fact, driving.
"Ask me over like a normal person."
"Derek, would you like to come over and help me move some tables for the party?"
"That's bet-"
"In my pants?" Stiles can't help but crow.
"Why do I like you again?"
"Erica wrote me a list."
"Banned," Derek repeats.
"Meet me at my house if you know what's good for you."
"Threats now? Stiles, I'm shocked."
"You're enjoying yourself. I can hear the self-satisfied smirk in your voice."
"Is everything okay?" Derek asks carefully as Stiles pulls up at his house, and damn Derek for being able to just get him, understand when he's hiding in plain sight.
"No, but I'm not ready to talk about it. I am ready to take off all my clothes and let you ravage me."
"Why do I have to do all the work?"
"You've got thirty minutes and then I'm withdrawing my offer."
"I'll be there in eight."
"That's really specific."
"Time me."
*
"Ow," Derek says with no inflection and Stiles giggles a little hysterically, oxygen deprivation never a good thing for his brain.
"If I kept a creepy diary of conquests, you would be going into it with a giant smiley face and the word awesome underlined three times."
"Sorry you just... kind of wound me up is all," Derek says, suddenly adorably bashful and Stiles rolls over so he can pin Derek to the floor when he starts to make motions about getting up. They're still in disarray and Stiles would kind of like to stay that way, at least until the afterglow stops glowing.
"Who knew my special brand of banter would be such an aphrodisiac."
"I've always kind of found it..." Derek makes a hand gesture that Stiles can't really parse the meaning of, but he's staying put so Stiles figures it's not bad.
"Annoying?"
"Not so much, no," Derek says, tucking their faces close so he can nip Stiles' nose gently.
They eventually get up and put themselves back together. Stiles orders pizza while Derek picks a movie. They're curled on the couch, Stiles' belly pleasantly distended like a python after eating when Derek threads fingers through the fine hairs at Stiles' nape and says, "So you wanna tell me what's wrong now?"
"Urgh," Stiles offers.
"You don't have to," Derek says and Stiles rolls his head enough that he can see Derek's profile, the strong cut of his jaw.
"You know how you said you were going to ask Isaac about changing his name?" Stiles asks and at Derek's nod he says, "My grandparents thought Chester would benefit more being a Worthington than a Stilinski."
"That's stupid," Derek huffs and Stiles smiles to himself, likes the way Derek just dismisses the idea.
"Chester Stilinski is a little hard to say, but ugh, Chester Worthington sounds so pompous."
"He's not going to change his name, Stiles. He wouldn't want that."
"I told Felicia not to even bring it up to him but she will. She won't be able to help herself."
"Stiles, you're worrying about nothing. Chester is a Stilinski through and through, same as you."
"I guess," Stiles huffs, scooches down into the couch cushions a little more and opens his mouth against Derek's shoulder.
"Don't bite me."
"Spoilsport," Stiles huffs. He curls forward again, digs around in the pizza boxes and finds them all disappointingly empty. "Oh my god, if you ate the last piece of pepperoni you're fired as my boyfriend."
"Where the hell do you put it all?" Derek huffs. "I'm going to have to run about two thousand miles tomorrow to work this off but I can imagine all you're going to do is roll out of bed and have a bacon sandwich."
"That does sound like me."
"Just you wait. You're going to hit forty and completely blimp out."
"Just more of me to cuddle," Stiles says and chuckles when Derek pulls him back by the shirt into the curve of his body.
*
"You okay, Isaac?" he asks, because one thing Isaac and Derek have in common is that they need to be prodded into talking. They don't tend to volunteer information of their own volition.
"Chester had a... party last night as well," Isaac says. Derek had turned up early with Isaac in tow to help, probably so he could make himself scarce when the party was in full swing, claiming he'd already been there for hours. He and Lydia were currently embroiled in a fairly entertaining fight about outside lantern placement.
"You're worried because you weren't invited?" Stiles guesses.
"Maybe I'm just not..." Isaac looks down at himself, plucks disconsolately at his band shirt with the hole in the hem.
"Isaac, he wanted you there. My grandparents said no, okay? Not for any reason other than they're giant douchebags." Stiles has made no promise to sugar coat his grandparents to anyone other than Chester and Isaac should probably be prepared for being looked down on, especially if they're taking him along to dinner next week.
"Oh," Isaac says, still looking a little glum and Stiles herds him towards the door, knows that one look at Chester's happy-to-see-him and frankly doe-eyed face will have Isaac smiling again.
Once he's inside, Stiles makes his way to the kitchen but Scott throws, thankfully plastic, utensils at him till he retreats, yelling that everything isn't perfect yet. Stiles retreats, is standing on the porch contemplating whether he should break up the exchange between Lydia and Derek before it devolves into a slap fight that will be embarrassing for both of them when a black town car pulls up into the drive.
It's clearly a rental and Stiles is puzzled by it, making his way down the porch steps possibly to redirect a very lost tourist when a woman emerges from the driver's seat and Stiles freezes in place.
Stiles is nearly bowled over as Chester hurtles past him. "Mom!" Chester cries happily and both Lydia and Derek's heads snap up and around at Chester's yell, as he reaches Bec and picks her up off her feet, swinging her around. She laughs, delighted and surprised. The last time she'd seen Chester in person was two years earlier and he's shot up in the intervening time.
Stiles glances at Derek, who is standing stock still. He'd been holding a paper lantern in hand that Erica's art class had made for the party and Stiles grimaces when he realizes Derek has crushed it in his clenched fists. Stiles isn't sure Derek remembers her. Bec hasn't been to Beacon Hills in years, Chester usually sent to meet her somewhere when she has a free week here and there. Before Stiles can unglue his feet from the ground, Chester is towing Bec towards him, babbling happily at her.
"Stiles, hi," she greets warmly. She's as pretty as always, long dark red hair shiny in the last light of the afternoon. Stiles had had a short-lived crush on Lydia when he first met her because she reminded him so strongly of Bec. It had died off quickly when he realized how unhealthy it was and also because his crush on Derek was annoyingly persistent and in place a lot earlier.
Bec hesitates a little, chewing on her lip and Stiles shakes himself, knows he's being rude by just gaping at her and instead steps forward so he can give her a hug, Chester kind of bouncing around them happily.
"Hey, hi, sorry. You just... surprised me is all," Stiles says, stepping back, crossing his arms and then dropping them because he doesn't want to look defensive. "We weren't expecting you... were we?" Stiles narrows his eyes at Chester but Bec shakes her head.
"No, it was totally last minute," Bec says. "I got a gap in my schedule and my baby only turns sixteen once, right?" She reaches out to tug Chester back into her and he rolls his eyes but goes, looping long arms around her waist and looking like he wants to pick her up again.
"Hi," Lydia says, elbowing Stiles in the shoulder and looking like she's just dragged Derek over by the collar forcibly. He looks mortified about it. "I'm Lydia and this is Derek." She kind of moves around so she can shunt Derek into Stiles' side.
"Hi, nice to meet you," Bec says, her brow creasing the tiniest bit in confusion but smiling gamely all the same. She shakes hands with Lydia and then with Derek after a small hesitation. "Oh wait, Derek the diner owner, right?" Bec says, letting go of Derek's hand to snap her fingers. "Right, I remember. Excellent pancakes."
"I... yes," Derek says, throws Stiles a panicked glance like he's really fighting his flight response but it's a losing battle.
"Derek is Stiles' boyfriend," Lydia says pointedly and with that she turns and scurries away, bomb effectively dropped.
The smile kind of freezes on Bec's face for a moment before she says, "Oh, wow. That's... great."
"Are you staying?" Chester asks, apparently oblivious to the most awkward tableaux in the existence of ever. "She can stay here, right Dad?"
"Oh, uh..." Stiles starts, swallowing against the panic he's feeling but Bec saves him by shaking her head and then reaching up to scrub a hand through Chester's hair.
"No, kiddo. I got a room at the cute little Inn your dad runs." Her gaze swings back to Stiles. "You're still running it right?"
"Yes," Stiles says.
"Awesome. I just wanted to stop in and see you guys before I head up and drop off my bags."
"You're coming back for the party?"
"Of course, kiddo," Bec says. "I'll be back in an hour or so." With that and a jaunty wave, Bec is gone, leaving Derek, Stiles and Chester all watching her car disappear down the drive.
"Awesome," Chester enthuses, then runs back to the house, yelling for Isaac as he goes.
"Awesome," Stiles groans then turns to Derek. "Hey, hi, you still in there?"
"That was... maybe I should go?" Derek says, looking uncomfortable.
"What? No! Ugh, you are not using this as an excuse to duck out of the party."
"Stiles," Derek says, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"No you don't. I'm totally owed an awkward ex encounter. Especially after the crap you put me through."
"You didn't have to meet Kate."
"You've met Bec before. She's had your pancakes."
"I kind of liked pretending she didn't exist, to be honest," Derek says, smiles a little sheepishly.
"Aw, babycakes. There's nothing to be worried about," Stiles coos, hugs Derek's arm and watches the tenseness bleed out of Derek and turn into amused exasperation which is far more preferable. "Bec blows in like a whirlwind, stays a few days and blows back out. That's the way it's always been with her. She's a rolling stone, gathering no moss."
*
Matt is from that world, the Chilton, society world. Stiles can see from the pensive way Isaac is staring at Chester as he talks to Matt and a few of his Chilton friends, that turned up to the party although Chester swore he didn't invite them, that he's fearing that maybe being outside that world will mean some day he's left behind when Chester joins it properly.
"Who's that?" Derek asks, hooking his chin over Stiles' shoulder. He's been weird about PDA all night, especially in Bec's sight line, so Stiles leans into him shamelessly because he's missed Derek's warm presence. He might have become weirdly dependent on Derek's broad hands being on him in a surprisingly short amount of time.
"Matt Daehler, I think," Stiles says. "His family is friends with my grandparents. Have been for years. Old money likes rubbing up against other old money."
"Should I be worried I'm going to have to deal with tubs of ice cream and Die Hard marathons?" Derek asks and Stiles can't see his face with the way they're standing, but knows Derek's gaze has shifted to Isaac. Erica is now fussing over him, possibly because she's scarily observant and knows he needs the distraction.
"I... no, I don't think so," Stiles says, but he knows he sounds uncertain. The trouble is, he can't really control who Chester falls for, and while he would prefer it be someone like Isaac, it might end up being Matt. Chester's only sixteen and likely to fall for multiple people before he's done. Stiles knows that his and Derek's involvement will make things a little awkward for the boys though since they won't be able to escape each other if it does end badly or worse, becomes mostly one-sided.
"Should we have discouraged them?" Derek asks and Stiles can hear the frown in his voice.
"We already went over this. They would have just sought each other out anyway and it might have been a lot messier."
As they're talking, Chester breaks away from the Chilton kids and makes his way over to Isaac, insinuating himself between him and Erica and grinning when Isaac gives him a grateful and somewhat relieved look. "Crisis averted," Stiles says, although for how long they can't know. "Now, how about us?" Stiles adds, turning around and linking his hands around Derek's waist.
"What about us?" Derek asks, a crease forming between his eyebrows.
"You've been avoiding me at my own party."
"I thought it was Chester's party?"
"Chester's party is always my party. Mi partay, es tu partay."
"Stop murdering yet another language," Derek huffs, but some of the tension has eased out of his face. "I just feel kinda weird with the mother of your child hovering around."
"She's not-" Stiles starts to protest but Derek turns him bodily again, points his face so Stiles can see Bec chatting with Boyd and sneaking glances his way.
"There was definitely something going on with her face when Lydia introduced me and it looked a lot like disappointment."
"Ugh, it's because I'm pretty sure I'm her relationship crash mat," Stiles says and Derek blinks at him confused.
"What the hell does that entail?"
"When she dumps her latest Mr. This-Time-For-Sure-He's-Right, she heads my way, safe in the knowledge that I will be horribly alone and willing to sit with her for hours and watch Overboard and eat copious amounts of pizza."
"Oh."
"Then she'll tell me that maybe we could give it another shot, I start thinking maybe we should for Chester, and in two or three days she's recovered enough to realize that it's not what she wants at all and she's gone."
"This is not reassuring me in the least," Derek grumbles.
"I hadn't seen her for two years this time. I really thought Michael was a keeper. They were engaged."
"Why don't I know any of this?" Derek asks, looking sour.
"Because you wear that exact face whenever I mention her. You know, the last time she was here, I didn't even entertain it when she started talking about us getting back together because I was hopelessly pining for someone else."
"Is this yet another person I should be worried about?" Derek asks, but his scowl this time is turning up at the corners.
"You're a dummy," Stiles says, punching Derek in the shoulder and he laughs and tugs Stiles into him, rubbing a stubbly cheek against Stiles' smooth one. "Oh now you're interested in smooching me just because you want to mark your territory I suppose?"
"Damn right," Derek says.
"Well, I will be putting a stop to this overt display of ridiculousness-" Stiles loses the rest of his sentence when Derek strokes a warm palm up underneath his shirt and scratches blunt nails along his belly. "-um, in about three hours," he ends on a squeak.
"Maybe."
*
"It's for charity," Stiles says, getting up on his toes so he can reach the perfect one teetering on top of the pile. Derek rolls his eyes and tries to be subtle about leaning against the stack when they wobble ominously. "Plus, I have a guaranteed buyer this year. I'm not going to miss it."
"Oh yeah? Who?" Derek says, and Stiles blinks at him.
"But-"
"Stiles, it's stupid. You know I can't join in any of this stuff on principal."
"You can't join in because you know it drives Jackson crazy. Don't pretend there's any other reason."
Derek pulls a well yeah face.
"C'mon, you have to buy my basket. Otherwise I might end up with Finstock again. That was the most uncomfortable hour of my life."
"He just bid on you because he knew Scott made your food," Derek says, smirking.
"Derek, c'mon!"
Derek's attention turns to Chester. "Really?" he says, raising his eyebrows at the small basket Chester's clutching.
"Do you think Isaac will think it's lame?" he asks. Derek looks like he wants to say yes, but instead he sighs.
"I think Isaac will empty his back account to make sure no one else is able to bid on you," he admits and Chester beams, fluttering over to the register. Derek tries to yank the basket out of Stiles' hands but he curls over it, protectively.
"You won't leave me out there unprotected," Stiles says, narrowing his eyes.
"Yeah? Try me," Derek huffs.
"If you let someone buy my basket that isn't you, you'd better reacquaint yourself with your right hand because that is the only action you're going to get in the foreseeable future."
"Ugh, gross!" Chester complains, having drifted back to them.
"Stiles, I'm not going to bid on you. I don't know why you don't think I'm serious about this."
"You're bluffing."
"You're delusional."
"Dad, we're late," Chester interrupts, pushing Stiles towards the front of the store where Wendy's waiting behind the register, smirking at them.
"What are you guys doing today?" Derek asks, following.
"Having breakfast with Chester's mom," Stiles throws over his shoulder as he's herded by Chester.
"Oh, that sounds nice," Derek says stiffly and Stiles tries not to smile to himself. He's kind of enjoying this jealous streak of Derek's if he's going to be completely honest.
"You could come?" Stiles offers as he drops his basket on the counter and digs in his pocket for his wallet.
"Um, no, I don't think..."
"It's fine, don't break something trying to come up with an excuse. Your boyfriend duty was fulfilled last night very thoroughly."
"Thank god," Derek says with feeling.
"Bec's staying for another week, so there'll be plenty of opportunities for awkward meals," Stiles says.
Derek pulls a face, but then notices Chester looking a little worried and pastes on a smile. "Great," he says with false cheer and while Chester looks mollified, Stiles throws a raised eyebrow around him.
"I told Bec about bid-a-basket next Saturday and she said she had to stay and see that. She might find her next Mr. This-Time-For-Sure-He's-Right."
"The pickings are pretty slim," Derek says, although his face has gone tight at that and Stiles thinks maybe he's just guaranteed that Derek will be there to bid on him after all.
Isaac appears behind Derek, looking a little scared. "Why do people keep asking me if I'm going to be making a basket?"
"It's bid-a-basket next weekend," Chester explains, sliding around Stiles so he can nudge up against Isaac who smiles a little dopily at the contact. "You bid on people's packed lunches and then you eat together."
"Oh," Isaac says, then notices Chester holding a basket. "Oh."
"Be there or be a guy that watches his honeyboo have lunch with someone else," Stiles threatens both Isaac and Derek at the same time.
*
Lydia is terse with her, which is nice in the weirdest way because Stiles is pretty sure she and Bec would get along like a house on fire if they'd met under other circumstances. Giving Bec the rough towels and the boring unscented shampoo and body wash is her way of showing she cares about Stiles' past heartbreak and he can't bring himself to stop her even though he sneaks Bec the good stuff on the sly because he feels guilty.
Bid-a-basket day dawns bright and warm even though they're getting uncomfortably close to winter and Stiles has to convince Chester to still take his basket along, filled with Scott's tasty goodies because Scott is a saint and Chester is likely to poison Isaac if left to his own devices. Stiles, on the other hand, refuses help and scours the internet for picnic basket friendly delights because this year is special, this year he gets to be bid on by someone he actually wants to spend time with, despite whatever protestations Derek has made about it.
Stiles is one hundred percent positive that Derek is only messing with him. Well, maybe ninety-eight percent.
They reach the town center which is already buzzing with bidders and biddees. Stiles drops his basket off at the table with Erica, who hands him his number and gives him a big smile. She has to tug the basket out of Chester's grip and sneaks him a higher number so he doesn't have to fret as long because Erica is scary but also the absolute best.
They sit amongst the gathered townsfolk and its the nicest kind of day, a day that makes Stiles glad to live in a place like Beacon Hills. Bec had called it idealistic in an offhand way but it really is. Stiles cheers and claps as Mary Higgins gets bid on by Stuart Posten and Philip Nils blushes furiously at being picked up by Arty Simins. "I knew that was going to be a thing," Stiles leans over to whisper to Chester and he rolls his eyes but he's smiling when he turns back.
Stiles spots Derek right before Chester goes up on stage, standing back and to the side a little, arms crossed and looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Stiles smiles to himself, because usually you can't pry Derek out of the diner on a day like this even with a spatula.
Chester goes up and Stiles looks around, spots Isaac shuffling forward with his hands jammed in his pockets and chewing on his lip. There are a group of giggling girls behind Stiles that start the bidding on Chester and Isaac glares at them in such outrage that they don't outbid him when he puts up thirty dollars.
Jackson calls sold and Chester tries to bite back his large grin but can't quite manage it as he jogs over to the side of the stage. Isaac is already there with basket in hand, cuffs Chester on the shoulder. Stiles hears the girls behind him coo appreciatively and yes, this is going to be the best day.
*
Jackson opens the bidding at ten dollars because he's an ass and there's deafening silence. Stiles knows it's probably because everyone's expecting Derek to bid, but he doesn't. He just stands still and quiet, hands dug deep in his pockets, reminding Stiles strongly of Isaac.
"Did Scott make your basket?" Finstock calls from the crowd and just no.
"I did it myself!" Stiles snaps and Finstock grimaces which, rude, and doesn't bid.
"C'mon, I'll take one dollar," Jackson calls and Stiles fights the urge to flip him off. Derek has a hand pressed against his mouth, like he's fighting off the urge to laugh and Stiles glares at him, trying to impart just how much suffering Derek's about to go through if he doesn't bid.
Finally, Derek rolls his eyes, tugs his other hand out of his pocket and right when he's going to put up his hand, another shoots up in the crowd and a woman calls out, "Five hundred dollars!"
"Sold!" Jackson calls, looking startled and Stiles gapes at him.
"You didn't give anyone a chance to outbid," he cries.
"No one's going to pay more than five hundred dollars for you Stilinski," Jackson says, ushering Stiles off the stage. He sees, right before he's jostled down the stage steps, Derek craning his head around and looking thunderous.
When Stiles reaches the table where money is exchanged for the baskets, Bec is standing there looking delighted with herself. "Oh God Bec, that was you?"
"Of course it was me," she says, laughing. "Who else is going to pay top dollar for your ass... I mean sandwiches?"
"I was hoping maybe Derek," Stiles says, but Bec doesn't hear him, is leaning over chatting to Erica as she takes Bec's money and throws Stiles a puzzled look.
Derek breaks free of the loose crowd then and falters when he sees Bec. Stiles turns on him, crossing his arms and pouting mightily. "See? Not so funny now, huh?"
"I was going to bid," Derek says, grimacing.
"Yeah, when it went down to a dollar. Nice to know how much I'm worth to you."
"Looks like I get to steal your boyfriend for the afternoon," Bec says, coming up behind them and linking her arm through Stiles', basket held in the other hand. "This is all just too small-town precious, don't you think?"
"I'm not really into this stuff," Derek says, expression stormy.
Bec squeezes Stiles' arm. "Shall we?"
"Sure," Stiles says, lets Bec lead him away and throws a scowl over his shoulder at Derek.
*
"Ugh, no, of course you didn't. I got the prettiest date of the afternoon," he says.
Bec snorts indelicately and pegs a grape at his face. "Shut up. I'm pretty sure Derek's prettier than me and that's just depressing since he's a guy."
"Lies," Stiles says and then they're smiling at each other, it's nice and more comfortable than it's been in a long time so that's why it takes Stiles a few seconds to react when Bec leans over and kisses him.
"Woah, hey, woah," Stiles says, startling backwards right when Bec's mouth parts a little and the tip of her tongue touches his mouth. "Not a friend kiss!"
"Of course it's not," Bec says, giving him an odd look. "I was just thinking maybe-"
"Bec, I'm with Derek," Stiles says, scooting back from her even though he feels like a bit of an idiot for doing it.
"I know that, I just..." Bec makes a helpless gesture with her hands. "I'm not trying to-" she cuts herself off, makes a face and says, "Okay, I'm totally trying to."
"Bec, I'm with Derek," Stiles repeats, because he can't think of anything else to say. He's rendered incapable of forming other coherent sentences.
"I know that," Bec says. "Just... I've been thinking that maybe I'm ready for this. That I'm ready for you and Chester."
"You're ready for us?" Stiles says, narrowing his eyes.
"God, don't say it like that, it's not what I meant. I see you settled and happy and I want that to."
"Bec-"
"I just... I was sitting across from Andrew-"
"Who's Andrew?"
"My boyfriend... well, my ex-boyfriend now."
"Why did I think his name was Michael?"
"Stiles!"
"Sorry."
"I was sitting across from Andrew and I thought, what the hell am I doing? There is an amazing man out there who took on sole responsibility for my kid, who's sweet and funny and hot and I keep bouncing around thinking I'm going to find someone better than that?"
"I honestly didn't know you thought about me when I was out of your sight line," Stiles says, immediately feels like a jerk when Bec's face crumples a little.
"That's not fair," she says in a small voice.
"I know just, you surprised me."
"Can't we give this another go? Can't we at least try?"
"Bec, I don't know what to say other than ten years ago, maybe even five I would have probably said yes for Chester's sake if not for my own. Would you have really wanted that? Do you think we would have lasted if I had?"
"Maybe," Bec says, but she doesn't sound convinced herself.
"Bec, you're not ready for us. I don't think you ever will be but that's okay. Someday you'll meet someone that just make sense, that'll be your forever. That's not me and I think deep down you know that."
"You've found him, haven't you?" Bec says, smiling although it's wobbly. "The one that makes sense."
"Yeah, I have."
*
"Did you and Mom kiss?" Chester asks, not looking at Stiles, just picking at his nails.
"What?" Stiles splutters. "How-?"
"You were sitting on the town common. Isaac saw you. Dozens of people saw you."
"Honey, no, it's a little more complicated than-" What Chester says suddenly registers to Stiles. "Wait, Isaac saw us?"
"Yeah, he called. He was pretty angry."
"Oh shit," Stiles says, because that means Derek knows. Stiles isn't sure how he could've been such an idiot. He'd been so startled by Bec that he hadn't even thought about how in public they were. Even if Isaac weren't the one to see them, Stiles is sure someone who'd been only to happy to tell Derek would have. Beacon Hills was a pretty wonderful place but it's grapevine was almost supernatural in its efficiency and speed.
"So it's true?"
"Your mom kissed me. It wasn't-"
"You're happy with Derek aren't you? You're happier with him than you have been in a long time."
"Um, this conversation isn't really going in the direction I was expecting."
"Don't get me wrong, there's a small part of me that would always wish you and mom were together, but there's a bigger part of me that knows that it wouldn't work."
"Did I make you jaded about relationships already?" Stiles asks, genuinely worried about it.
"Not really."
"I'm sorry if I have, really."
"Just, would you go and make sure Derek's alright?" Chester says, standing up and basically herding Stiles out of the house. He goes, heart pounding and feeling sick to his stomach. He hasn't done anything wrong, but Derek's got a head start on him, on making more of this than it is, plus he has the indignity of having to hear it from someone other than Stiles.
Stiles reaches the diner in record time, jumps the three steps up to the door and pushes through.
"No," Derek says, from behind the counter as soon as he spots Stiles.
"But-"
"I have customers," Derek hisses, pointing and everyone of them is staring at him.
"If you think I'm going to go away so you have more time to stew then you're crazy."
"Please fix whatever you did," Greenburg says from a table near the window. "His coffee tastes angry. How is that even possible?"
"Fine," Derek snarls through his teeth and Stiles follows on his heels up the stairs after Derek nods at Hayley to take over. Derek turns on Stiles as soon as they're in his upstairs apartment and what shocks Stiles is that Derek doesn't look angry, he just looks defeated.
"Bec kissed me."
"Yeah, I heard, thanks."
"No, listen. Bec kissed me. I didn't kiss her back. There was no mutual kissage."
"That doesn't matter."
"Of course it does," Stiles says, flailing his hands.
"I don't see how."
"She kissed me, I stopped her and told her that I was with you. That's how it matters."
"That's the only reason you stopped her, because you're with me?"
"What other reason is there?"
"Derek, are you kidding me right now?" Stiles narrows his eyes. "You're trying to pick a fight with me, aren't you?"
"I don't think I need to pick a fight when you've kissed your ex. I think the fight just naturally happens around it."
"What is going on? You're being completely unreasonable about this."
"Stiles, you don't get to tell me what to be about this. I just need some time to-"
"No! I already said I'm not giving you time to stew and I meant it. We're going to work this out, now, like adults."
"You are the most aggravating person I've ever met."
"Yeah? Good. Look, I'm not letting you talk yourself out of this because I lo-"
Derek is suddenly there, hands fisted in Stiles' shirtfront, pressing him against the door but not in the fun, sexy way. "Don't you dare," he growls. "Don't you dare say that to me the first time like this, now."
"But Derek-"
"Stiles," Derek says, letting him go and stepping back. "Just, please leave."
"I'm not Kate," Stiles blurts, can't really believe it came out of his mouth but he's desperate. Derek goes scarily still, eyes icing over further even though Stiles didn't think it was possible. "Look, I know you've just been waiting for me to fail you somehow, leave you, but I'm not going to. You're stuck with me buddy, whether you like it or not."
"Leave, now," Derek grits out.
"Don't do this," Stiles begs, because he knows that if they don't fix this tonight, it's going to be harder to come back from. "Please don't do this."
Derek just turns his back on Stiles, his head drops and Stiles knows that if he pushes anymore, he's just going to make things worse.
Stiles leaves.