Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sterek || TW || Sterek || TW || Sterek || Mutual Devotion || Sterek || TW || Sterek || TW || Sterek

Title: Mutual Devotion – Writer's Pride Month Bingo 2024

TW Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Jeff Davis and MTV. This fanfiction on the other hand is entirely mine. No money is made with this, though reviews are more than welcomed.

Tags: m/m, canon divergence post s2, Erica and Boyd live, Jackson doesn't leave, fluff, hurt/comfort, Pack Feels, Pack Mom Stiles, mates, m/f

Main Pairing: Derek/Stiles

Side Pairings: Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Sheriff Stilinski

Writer's Pride Month Bingo Prompt: community

Summary: After Gerard, Stiles needs a bit of distance from Scott. So while Scott spends the summer studying, Stiles spends his time with Derek's pack. Somehow, he ends up helping Derek become a better Alpha. They rebuild the Hale house and the Hale Pack together. And along the way, they fall in love with each other.

Mutual Devotion

Writer's Pride Month Bingo 2024

The past couple of days had packed a lot of surprises for Derek.

Erica and Boyd leaving the pack – and he deserved it, he had been a bad Alpha, was a bad Alpha, had let them down, didn't know what he was even doing. The take-down of Gerard and the way Scott had used him, and though he knew he hadn't earned Scott's trust, he wouldn't have thought the mightier-than-thou teen would do something like this. Jackson, fully turning into a proper werewolf, with Derek's help. Erica and Boyd returning, finding Derek at the abandoned train depot, looking beaten and tortured, asking him to take them back, even though nothing had changed yet.

Even with all of these things, the most surprising was when Stiles walked into the train depot, kicking his feet, staring at the ground and decidedly not at him. Nobody else was there beside him, Isaac was hanging out with Erica and Boyd, doing whatever teens did. Peter was… Well, quite frankly, Derek didn't know where Peter was, he had left after the Gerard take-down.

"What do you want, Stiles," Derek couldn't keep the growl out of his voice.

Because Scott had betrayed Derek, had used Derek, and the last thing that Derek needed was for the Scott And Stiles Show to continue being a part of his life. If those two thought they could ever come to him for any kind of favor again after what they'd pulled? No. No more chances. Derek needed to man up and become the Alpha that the Hale Pack needed and deserved, and that meant no more running after Scott McCall to try and make him part of the pack. Scott had made his feelings clear this time. Derek crossed his arms, glaring down at Stiles. The glare softened just a bit when he saw the bruises on Stiles' face, the way the teen was holding his side, walking with a light limp.

"I just…" Stiles sounded tired, exhausted really, none of his usual snark or bravado. "I didn't know, okay. I'm not gonna apologize for him, because contrary to popular belief, we are two separate people and I am not responsible for his actions, but… I wanted you to know that I didn't know he was gonna do that. It was a shit move and he probably didn't tell me because I would have told him not to do this absolutely stupid and dangerous and… and arrogant thing. You didn't deserve that."

No lies. His heartbeat was fast but with anger, not because he was telling a lie. The frown stayed though because now Derek was really confused. What was Stiles doing here, why would he come here and tell him that? There was something soft and vulnerable to Stiles and… oh. Lonely. That was a look Derek easily recognized from himself. He uncrossed his arms slowly, but he still didn't know what to say. Stiles turned around and left, apparently not expecting him to say anything.

/break\

Stiles was tired. Not just hyperfixated-for-too-many-hours-last-night-didn't-sleep kind of tired, but the kind that settled deep in his bones. Granted, all his injuries didn't really help there. The look his dad kept giving him also didn't help. His cover story of having been beaten up by the opposing team sounded ridiculous even to him, but what was he supposed to say? Yeah, dad, Allison's unhinged grandpa tortured me for a bit to send a message to Scott, but it's fine now, after Scott used Derek to severely poison the guy, grandpa left.

The pencil in Stiles' hand snapped and he glared at it. Gerard had gotten away. Of course he had. Because Scott's plan had been stupid and it sucked, on multiple accounts. Beyond the using-Derek-like-a-weapon bit – and, look, Stiles wasn't exactly captain of the Derek Hale fanclub himself, but over the months since all of this had started, they had relied on each other a lot, and he knew Derek wasn't a bad guy, he definitely didn't deserve to be treated that way – poisoning Gerard wasn't a definite way to kill him, as proven by the fact that the guy had gotten away.

Scott and his fucking morals. Stiles loved the guy to bits and pieces, Scott would always be his brother by anything but blood, but there was a time and place for morals. And the utterly evil hunter who hated all werewolves and all those who associated with werewolves (as proven by the nice little torture session that Stiles had been a part of)? Once away, he would just keep killing the innocent and he might also be plotting revenge, something he had shown to be very into.

"He—ey, Batman."

Stiles gave a very manly yelp as he fell off his desk-chair to glare at the blonde werewolf climbing in through his window. "Jesus fucking Christ, I need to get you puppies bells! Don't scare the fragile human into a heart-attack, Catwoman! What are you doing here?"

Erica grinned and cocked her head. The bruises on her were already nearly all faded. Self-conscious, his hand wandered up to his own bruised face. The grin faded from Erica's lips. She sat on the window-sill, kicking her feet and looking at him.

"How… are you doing, Stiles?" Erica's voice was softer.

"Healing," Stiles huffed, motioning at himself. "Way, way slower than you guys though."

Erica hummed and regarded him with soft eyes. Pity. Stiles turned away to hide the sneer on his face. He hated that, remembered all the pitying gazes he'd gotten after his mom's death. He gripped half his broken pencil, tapping it against the table in a near aggressive manner.

"Nothing's changed," Erica spoke, when she noticed the change in Stiles' demeanor. "I mean. The reason Boyd and I wanted to leave was because Derek sucks. We don't want pain to teach us how to be a wolf, because it doesn't feel like learning to be a wolf, but how to endure the wolf. He just… growls at us. And that train depot is disgusting."

Stiles' face softened and he turned back to look at Erica. Arms crossed, annoyed glare on her face. Trying to distance herself. It was nearly funny, honestly, how similar the betas were to their Alpha, without any of them noticing. So bad with feelings and expressing themselves. A tired sigh escaped Stiles as he remembered their conversation, when the three of them had escaped from the Argents…

"We were running away," Erica had said, while supporting Stiles on their way through the forest. "Because Derek sucks, as an Alpha. This isn't a pack, it's a disaster."

"Great, and what's the point? What's the gain? Congratulations, Derek will no longer be your Alpha. Instead, you're going to be two underage, homeless omegas. No roof overhead, no money, no pack or Alpha at all," Stiles had glared at her, and at Boyd, who glared at him. "Look, you're right! He sucks ass at being an Alpha! I'm not denying that! He sucks as much at that as you guys suck at being a werewolf, because he's as new to being an Alpha as you guys are to being werewolves. This whole pack is a work in progress. You guys all have to work on it. Together."

Stiles curled his fingers around his chin to hide his smile. So his words had at least gotten through to them. Because, seriously, what had been the plan here? Even more so after all the torture, physically weakened. Just two lone teens without any savings or destination, worse yet, two werewolves without an Alpha or pack. That was like signing their own death sentences.

"You have to do something, Stiles."

"Wha… What?" Stiles looked up sharply, stunned. "I? Why do I have to do anything? I'm not part of any of this! Not only am I not a werewolf, I am also not part of this pack!"

"Yeah, but you're the one who knows what's wrong," Erica huffed, glaring at him. "Derek sure as shit doesn't notice what's wrong, or how to fix it, and Boyd, Isaac and I couldn't even if we wanted, since he is our Alpha and we can't go against him. So, you. Go and fix this."

Before Stiles had a chance to protest any further did she leave through the window again. Well. She wasn't fully wrong, he was the one who'd told them to get back, so maybe he did owe her and Boyd some help. She was definitely right that Derek wasn't going to notice and fix it all on his own. The poor bastard was so far out of his depth he was literally drowning.

So he needed a little break from Scott right now, because he didn't know if their friendship could survive close proximity and forced friendliness right now. He needed to dwell in his anger and frustration, he needed some distance. Which would make this summer break mindnumbingly boring on account of Scott being kind of his only friend and them being inseparable. Which meant he would need a project to occupy him over the summer. Something to fixate on, a problem to solve.

Heaving a sigh, Stiles adjusted the pencil in his hand and grabbed his notepad to start and write a to-do list for this summer. Hale Pack Improvements.

/break\

Derek was startled awake when someone stomped into the train depot with no care in the world. A snarl formed on his face before the scent hit him. Stiles. Again. Stiles had only just come and seen him two days ago, for what still constituted the weirdest visit so far. When Stiles walked up to him with a folder in his hands and a pen tucked behind his ear, Derek had a feeling that this one was going to get even weirder. He glared at the teen pointedly, though he raised an eyebrow when Stiles flushed brightly and started to smell like arousal. Not much of a surprise, most teens were horny messes and Stiles in particular so, Derek had gotten very used to Stiles' always jumpy mind, often jumping to 'horny'. Attraction meant very little, Derek knew that. He was only wearing sweat-pants, shirtless, hair ruffled, laying on the mattress he had been sleeping on since coming here.

Grabbing a shirt to put on, he got up. "What do you want, Stiles?"

"One of your pups dropped by my room last night to inform me that things have to change around here. And you know what, I agree. Heck, I'm pretty sure you agree. You know shit hit the fan, you know you fucked up – two of your betas chose to leave your pack."

Derek flashed red eyes at Stiles and growled in warning. He was not going to be undermined by anyone in his own home. As pathetic of a home as it may be, and yes, he was aware. All Stiles did was roll his eyes, causing Derek to grit his teeth to keep himself from physically pushing Stiles. The bruises were still so prominent, the limp was still there. It left Derek tense, not knowing what exactly had happened to Stiles, who had done this, or how bad the injuries really were. Which was stupid, he had no ties to Stiles, no responsibility over Stiles. Stiles went with Scott, that was a clear package deal and Derek had known this from the get-go. And Scott had made his choice.

"See, this is part of the problem," Stiles sighed, like he was the one annoyed by this conversation. "You communicate in, like, 30% growls, 60% eyebrows and only 10% words. Which, not great. You aren't on your own anymore, you got three teen wolves you have to communicate with."

Again, Derek growled, not liking how Stiles just came here to tell him what to do, or how to do it. What did Stiles know about being an Alpha? Or in general, about being a werewolf?

Another sigh from Stiles, but this one softer. "I know you probably had an easier time communicating in your old pack, because you guys were family, you knew each other, knew what the others wanted or needed. But this is different, Derek. You guys don't know each other, you have to get to know each other and learn to trust each other. You have to know that I'm right."

This time, Derek couldn't bring himself to growl. Partially because Stiles had dared to bring up Derek's family and the unexpected mention made him flinch away in surprise. And then he snarled.

"You don't get to do that, you don't get to come into my den, act like you know better than me and dare bring up my family. What do you know-" Derek was talking himself into a rage.

"When my mom died," Stiles interrupted Derek, voice incredibly soft and the scent of sorrow heavy in the air. "My dad and I had to adjust to that. There were so many things that I did with her that were just so natural, we didn't need words, we knew our routines, we knew what we needed to do. And then she died. And dad and I were alone and we… didn't know what to do with each other, because our whole dynamic was changed by mom's death and the things I used to do with her, I now had to relearn how to do with him, because I couldn't expect him to know everything she did. It was hard and frustrating and I missed her and I missed how things used to be with her, but we made it work. Because we both tried our best."

Derek could smell the tears in Stiles' eyes, even as Stiles blinked them away, not wanting to cry in front of Derek. The wind was taken out of his sails and Derek felt himself physically deflating. Not knowing what to do with this. He hadn't known… He hadn't known that Stiles' mother was dead.

"Look," Stiles continued after taking a shaky breath. "I'm not saying I understand it all, because you lost everything and everyone, but I do understand loss, and I do understand having to try and move forward. I understand that you have to adjust your life to that loss. You lost your family, but you now have your betas, you have a second chance at a pack. And you have to work for it."

Derek was leaning against the wall, arms crossed but the rest of his posture relatively relaxed. What Stiles said, it reminded him of the early months with Laura alone in New York. Suddenly, she wasn't his fun big sister anymore, she was his Alpha and she was his guardian. Their dynamic had changed and they had been awkward and stilted for a long time before they managed to adjust. He knew Stiles was right, he knew that loss came with change.

"Why did she come to you?" Derek asked, in the end. "I'm the Alpha."

"And you're not exactly the most approachable guy, as proven by the glowy red eyes and growls I got for broaching the topic," Stiles raised his eyebrows at Derek. "The puppies don't exactly feel like you are open for constructive critic of your leadership."

Okay, that was… fair, but still. "Why you."

A near sardonic smile spread over Stiles' lips as he motioned at his bruised face. "Let's say I had a great bonding time with two of your pups in the Argents' basement. Shared torture really forms a lasting bond, you know. Besides, she kinda blames me since I was the one who told them to get their asses back home and actually put some effort into this pack. And now I'm here to basically tell you the same, because you all have to work on this, together."

Once again, Derek found himself surprised by Stiles. That was one thing Stiles was very good at. So the injuries had been caused by Gerard. That explained why he had been so bitter about Scott's betrayal on Derek too, because it had also been a betrayal of Stiles. But why would Stiles tell Erica and Boyd to return? There was a strange, warm feeling pooling in Derek's stomach at that. Stiles had made the betas return to Derek. Did Stiles even know how much that meant?

"What do you suggest."

It nearly made him chuckle to see the surprised look on Stiles' face. So either the teen had come here not expecting to succeed at all, or at least for there to be more of a fight. The fact that Stiles had brought his betas back to his pack weighed so much. Otherwise, he probably still would have sent Stiles away, even though deep down he knew Stiles had a point. He had come to the same realization too, after all. Things needed to change. He needed to change. To become a better Alpha.

"Oka—ay…"

Stiles drawled the word out, and then just plopped down on the floor, motioning for Derek to sit next to him. That wasn't going to happen. Derek came to loom over Stiles from behind, looking over his shoulder. Though he couldn't see it, he was sure that Stiles was rolling his eyes as he opened the folder he'd brought with himself. Real estate listings.

"You can absolutely not live here. This is… unsanitary, unsafe and uncomfortable. I'm pretty sure I saw a rat last time I left. There is zero furniture, you don't even have a bed. But, as you might have noticed, one of those puppies is supposed to live with you. This is not the kind of place any social worker would deem a good and stable home. So, it's not just about their general comfort, it's also about Isaac not ending up in the system. You need a real place to live."

"I have the house," Derek growled, fingers digging into his biceps.

"...Yeah, no. That's not…" Stiles pressed his lips together into a thin line. "Look, Sourwolf, I… I get that that's your family home and you are attached, but it's not livable. If you want to live there again, you have to renovate it, build it up from the ground. Which would be a long-term project, even with wolfy strength and speed. So, you would still need a place for the meantime."

Had… Stiles anticipated that? Had he actually known that Derek was still clinging to the Hale house? Derek frowned at Stiles, doubtful and confused. Why was Stiles even doing this?

"C'mon, I got some cheap places that are somewhat between the school and the Hale property. It has to just be temporary," Stiles motioned at the listings he'd printed.

/break\

Stiles couldn't help but grin as he carried a very light box of Isaac's clothes into the loft, following behind Boyd, who was carrying a couch, on his own. Even for a temporary place, Stiles had insisted on some basic furniture because, again, teenager in need of an actual home. Erica bounced past him into the barren loft that Derek had reluctantly picked.

"This is just temporary," Derek grunted, turning toward the teens.

As soon as Boyd had put down the couch, Stiles and Erica collapsed onto it and got comfortable. Apparently, the act of getting comfortable was bothering Derek so he felt the need to clarify. Stiles rolled his eyes, though from the corner of his vision he could see Isaac tense.

"Your glorious Alpha plans on rebuilding the Hale house," Stiles supplied when Derek failed to elaborate. "Which, is gonna take you guys a while. So, temporarily, until that is a proper place to live in, you and Derek are going to live here, and Erica and Boyd can hang out here."

Isaac relaxed, just a little bit. The abused boy was still walking on eggshells when it came to accepting comforts, expecting it to be pulled away from underneath him again. Truly, emotionally constipated Derek Hale was possibly the worst pick of guardian for Isaac. Yet at the same time, Derek who had lost everything and knew what violence in the family could be like (creepy uncle murdering Derek's sister) was also the perfect pick for Isaac.

"Wait we are going to renovate the house?" Erica asked, raising her eyebrows.

Derek grunted his confirmation and turned to leave, to get more stuff from downstairs. Stiles heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes. When did he become the designated Derek Hale translator?

"Yes, you are. For one, because your wolfish superpowers will make this so much faster than for humans, also… I think it's a territorial thing, that Derek doesn't want a bunch of construction guys on his property," Stiles motioned around vaguely with one hand. "Besides, it's a great exercise in pack bonding! You guys building something together, working together."

Boyd looked at him with a frown. "But you'll be there too, right?"

"Wha…" Stiles stared at him. "Come on! I made him buy a proper living space that's not rat infested! I did my part. Now it's up to you, go play Bob the Builder in the woods."

"But you're the only one who can disagree with him without it turning into a huge fight," Isaac brought up. "And, like you said, you just made him do all that. You can make him do stuff. What if we build this house, and we start fighting and disagreeing and it gets… worse?"

Stiles stared from one beta to the next, receiving three identical looks of puppy-dog eyes (though Boyd was less obvious about it). Groaning loudly, Stiles tilted his head back against the backrest of the couch. No, did he accidentally adopt three puppy dogs that he now had to take care of?

"Fi—ine, fine, put away the puppy-dog eyes, I'll be there tomorrow. But you guys owe me so much for sacrificing my lazy mornings and sleeping in time for this summer vacation."

/break\

Derek was confused when the Jeep pulled up to the property and a sleepy Stiles stumbled out of it with a huge – truly huge – cooler that he was awkwardly trying to pull out of the car. Walking over, Derek grabbed the handle and lifted it up with no problems, startling Stiles.

"Jesus, I am going to get you people bells! All of you. You're gonna kill me one day."

He grasped his heart and, fair enough, Derek could hear the spike in his heart-rate. Startling Stiles was just far too easy. Derek tilted his head, lifting the cooler up some more.

"Food," Stiles supplied. "Because, knowing you, you like brought tools and stuff to work but did not consider that you will also need breaks and drinks and food. So I made sandwiches, because I am absolutely not doing any physical labor, that's where I draw the line. I will sit back and watch you guys sweat and labor. But I'm also not big enough of an asshole to just come here and not help at all, so I figured, I'd provide provisions. You are welcome."

Derek made a small noise at that, tilting his head in the other direction. Stiles had made them food? Turning back to the ruins of his house, Derek carried the cooler toward the entrance way and put it down in the shade. Stiles could sit on the stairs, if he wanted to watch.

"Stiles! You came," Isaac aimed a grin at him, waving.

"I came, and I brought food. You can thank me later. Now, off to work, all the puppies have to build their new dog house themselves now, shoo."

Derek bit down the growl at the dog joke. Why did Stiles live to torment him? Still, Derek hadn't expected Stiles to actually show up. After forcing Derek to buy the loft, and then even helping with the move, he really thought Stiles would be done now. Yet here he was. Again. Confusing.

"Where do we start?" Boyd asked, looking at Derek.

Respectful, waiting for his instructions. Like a beta would look at their Alpha. Erica and Isaac on either of Boyd's sides mirrored him, all three waiting for Derek to give them orders. And in that small moment, Derek felt like there was hope. Like they could be a pack, maybe. A real pack.

"We have to… tear down the walls, the… debris," Derek stared at his childhood home with mournful eyes for a moment. "Leave only the skeleton, so we can build it back up."

"Well then, puppies! You heard the Alpha, on to work," Stiles exclaimed as he plopped down on the stairs. "I will be just right here, with refreshments if needed."

"Yeah no, you are not watching us work, Batman," Erica rolled her eyes and grabbed Stiles by the upper arm, pulling him up again. "C'mon, destruction is your element. You can help too, you don't have to do any of the heavy lifting, but breaking down stuff sounds like your thing."

Stiles adapted a thoughtful look for a moment before grinning. "You aren't wrong."

Derek shook his head as he watched the four teens run into the house and get started. He tried to ignore the warmth that filled his whole being as he heard his pack's laughter inside the house.

/break\

Stiles was surprised when Lydia just sauntered into his house. She'd knocked and as soon as he opened the door, she just waltzed in. Even more surprising so, she was followed by a glowering Jackson. There was no reality in which Stiles had ever expected either of those two inside his home, much less both of them. Lydia's gaze wandered curiously, judging her surroundings, while Jackson looked… well, he looked like shit. Like he hadn't slept in weeks and also would rather be literally anywhere else than here. Which, fair. Stiles would like him anywhere else than here too.

"Allison is in France, with her father," Lydia informed him.

"Hello to you too, Lydia," Stiles blinked. "What… does that have to do with me?"

She rolled her eyes at him, like he was being slow here. "Allison is in France. And we are spending time with Danny, who is great, but who has no idea about werewolves and hunters and kanimas. When I figured to track down the other… wolves, I noticed a pattern. You have been spending every day with Erica, Boyd and Isaac. I've seen you pick them up and drive off somewhere."

"Aw, you're stalking me, that is so nice," Stiles bit his lips, earning a growl from Jackson.

"Shush," Lydia patted Jackson's arm, her eyes still on Stiles. "This was supposed to fix him. Turning him into a werewolf. But he's… not doing well. I demand to know what's wrong with him. Allison isn't here, so you are… the only one we can ask."

"No, I'm not," Stiles raised his eyebrows. "There's, like, the obvious Alpha to ask."

Lydia pursed her lips and the motion said more than any of her words could. Ah. She didn't know if she could trust Derek, didn't know what to do of the former murder suspect. Stiles, on the other hand, was a known variable. Besides, they had been kind of sort of friends by association of Lydia's best friend dating Stiles' best friend. Stiles bit his lips, regarding Jackson.

"Have you been to see Derek, like, at all since you were turned? I mean, second turned."

Jackson seemed startled that Stiles spoke to him, with no snark or insult. "I… no. Why?"

"Ri—ight," Stiles heaved a sigh. "Jackson, go to the kitchen and grab the cooler."

"What?" Jackson glared at him. "I'm not going to do your chores."

"Yeah, you are," Stiles raised his chin. "You want something from me, and I'll actually, out of the fucking goodness of my bleeding heart, am going to help you, because I know what is wrong with you. So, you're gonna carry that cooler to my Jeep. And then you're gonna follow me."

"Follow you where?" Lydia asked, even as she motioned at Jackson to do as told. "Speak."

"Jackson is a werewolf now," Stiles offered, after Jackson started walking to the kitchen. "Werewolves are pack creatures. Betas need an Alpha. Your boyfriend is slipping from beta to omega – a packless werewolf. That's… not the best state to be in. So, I am going to bring him to Derek, to fix this. Once he's actually part of the pack, he'll get better."

To his surprise did Jackson actually perk up at that. Huh. Then again, the guy was just human too. Well, not anymore, but that was beside the point. He'd been through some really rough stuff in this past year, and now he looked like shit because of something that he didn't understand. Okay, Stiles was officially feeling compassion for Jackson Whittemore. Disgusting.

"Tha—ank you," Stiles chimed with a huge grin as Jackson put the cooler in the Jeep. "Now, you guys have to follow me in your car, because I am going to pick up Erica and Boyd first."

Jackson turned to exchange a look with Lydia, who simply nodded. That guy was so whipped it was comical, but to keep all his limbs, Stiles refrained from snorting. Instead, he got into his Jeep and started driving. At least Erica and Boyd always met up so he only had to do one pick-up. As every day for the past two weeks, Erica and Boyd were already waiting in front of Boyd's house. Though when he pulled up, and Jackson's Porsche pulled up behind him, Erica snarled.

"Put the fangs and claws away, Catwoman," Stiles motioned wildly. "Get in the car."

"They're following you, Stiles," Erica hissed, even as she climbed into the backseat.

Boyd followed her, though he kept staring through the rear view window with a doubtful glare. His hand found Erica's to hold, squeezing it lightly. Honestly, Stiles didn't really know if they had been a thing before the whole abduction and torture session, or if that had forged them together, but he thought they did each other good. Quiet, withdrawn Boyd and loud, outgoing Erica evened each other out, in a way. Stiles grinned softly to himself as he started the Jeep.

"I know. I told them to follow me. They're coming with us to the house."

"You… invited outsiders to the pack house?" Boyd raised his eyebrows. "Do you miss being threatened by Derek so much? Do you actually need it?"

"Masochist," Erica snickered to herself. "Didn't think you were that kinky."

Stiles sputtered and blushed furiously. "First of all, that is so inaccurate, second, how is that where your mind goes, what the hell. And, see, you calling them outsiders is exactly why I am bringing them. Jackson is also Derek's beta, even if you all seem to have forgotten that."

Both Erica and Boyd fell quiet at that. Hah. Victory for Stiles! Still, at the next red light, he did get his phone out to send the quickest text to Derek to warn him that they were coming and that he was bringing Jackson and that he needed minimal growling and threatening from the Alpha.

When they reached the house, all three of them got out of the car and both wolves headed toward the house right away, causing Stiles to whistle sharply. He knew the wolves hated that sound.

"Hey, where do you think you are going? Take the food to the kitchen!"

Erica rolled her eyes but obliged. "You are honestly such a mom."

"And you are welcome for it!" Stiles waved his arms around wildly. "Oh, you thought you insulted me here? Hah. I am secure enough in my masculinity. Some of the greatest people I know are mothers! Nobody is more badass than Melissa McCall, or more caring than Claudia Stilinski!"

His heart stumbled when he said his mother's name, as it always did. The three wolves around him heard it and looked at him, though thankfully none of them brought it up. Instead, Erica brought the food into the kitchen, with Boyd following close behind. Jackson remained, Lydia next to him. It took a few moments for Derek to exit the house, which was bullshit. The Alpha must have heard them when they pulled into the forest. Which meant he had tried to delay this confrontation.

"There he is! Your glorious Alpha," Stiles looked at Jackson and motioned at Derek. "Go ahead, the both of you, sit down and have a conversation with each other. About what it means to be a pack and what you both want, where you can compromise, all the fun stuff."

Lydia took a step forward to follow, but Stiles grabbed her wrist and stopped her. She didn't look impressed by that, but he waited for Derek and Jackson to head inside before he let go.

"No," Stiles shook his head. "Jackson has to do this one on his own. I know you're his anchor, his compass needle, all that fluffy stuff, but Derek needs to see that Jackson wants this, it can't come off as you pushing Jackson to do this."

Lydia crossed her arms, clearly not pleased but also obviously following his logic. "How do you know all of that, Stiles. You're not even one of them… Right?"

"Oh, no I am as human as they get," Stiles laughed, motioning at himself. "Fragile, weak human, right here. But I like to do research. I did as much as I could, for Scott, and it got easier when I got access to Deaton's books – yeah, the town's vet is actually a druid – and it got so, so, so much easier when Derek finally allowed me to read his family's books like a week ago, grumbling about how I would learn more from them than from wikipedia and that, in the end, he would benefit from me knowing this stuff too. Can you imagine? The big grump actually admitting that I am useful."

One elegant eyebrow was raised at him and right. She didn't really have enough Derek experience to understand how significant this was. Oh, well, if things were going to go the way Stiles wanted them, then her and Jackson were going to be around a lot.

"C'mon, you can help inside."

"I am not doing any… renovations," Lydia spoke with so much distaste.

"Well, I figured," Stiles tilted his head. "But there's color-schemes to be picked out and woods and styles to be chosen. The wolves have done a tremendous job tearing everything down, but now that it's time to build it back up, we need a bit more than just brute force. We need taste."

Her back straightened and there was a dangerous but pleased sparkle in her eyes. Derek might actually murder Stiles after all, because Lydia Martin was not to be argued with, so if she ended up picking things Derek didn't like, then it was Stiles who was going to suffer.

/break\

Derek leaned back on his chair. There were chairs. About three days into the renovations, Stiles had insisted on at least getting a table and a couple chairs – "Even if they're cheap-ass plastic garden chairs, Derek, I am not sitting on those stairs for another lunch!" – standing in the kitchen. The first time in a decade that a meal had been shared in this kitchen, a meal between a Hale Pack, laughter filling this house. It had clenched Derek's heart so tight that the betas had spared him a discreet look, but thankfully had not pried. Derek's eyes wandered around the kitchen.

It… actually looked like a kitchen now. A bare, impersonal kitchen, but a kitchen. The walls were up, the floor was laid, but out of all the rooms, the kitchen was the only one that had more going for it. The kitchen counter with the appliances was set up, Derek had even bought a fridge already – the biggest fridge he had found, after Stiles kept giving him a nasty glare and shaking his head in disapproval whenever Derek picked one that Stiles deemed too small, "Remember, you have to feed four growing wolf cubs and two humans, how do you plan on getting enough food in there? Do you want to go on a grocery shop run like every day?" – and the outlets and faucets were up and running. Stiles had insisted that, after the bathroom – "I am not peeing in the woods any longer than I have to, Derek Hale, we are getting the ground floor bathroom done first.", and Derek actually agreed on that one with Stiles – the kitchen had to be done second, so he wouldn't have to haul a cooler around every day, and so his father wouldn't get suspicious, because of all the food he kept making. Derek had started paying for the groceries on day four, when it became apparent that Stiles making lunch was going to be a regular thing. For one, because he hated to owe people something, but more importantly because this was Derek's pack, and Derek was going to provide for them.

"What's up, Sourwolf? You look all think-y."

Derek turned to look at Stiles as the teen let himself fall into the chair opposite Derek. A month into renovations and the house was an actual house. Yes, it was still missing all of the details – wallpaper and paint, doors, all rooms aside from the kitchen were still missing a proper floor, furniture – but it was a house, with walls and windows and running water. And that was because of Stiles. Because Stiles had brought Derek's betas back, had given Derek the kick in the butt the Alpha had needed to start renovating the house, something he had desperately wanted since returning to Beacon Hills but had taken every excuse to delay, feeling so fragile when it came to this last remain of his past.

"You have been over here every day."

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Ye—eah. Yeah, I know. I keep complaining to you, every morning, like clockwork, because your puppies make me get up early during my summer vacation."

Fine, Derek was going to be more direct, then. "You don't smell like Scott anymore."

The constantly twitching and moving teen actually stopped. Fully stopped. He stared at Derek with surprise and sorrow, before averting his eyes. He folded his hands in front of himself.

"Yeah, well," Stiles cleared his throat. "You're not the only one who was angry with Scott after the shit-show that was the Gerard Argent take-down. We're… taking a break, so to speak."

Derek didn't say anything, knowing that if there was silence, Stiles was going to fill it with more words, so all he had to do was wait for Stiles to continue talking. Still, he leaned back in his chair with a softer expression, regarding Stiles long and slow.

"It's not that I don't get his motivation – I don't agree with his methods, let's be clear – but I understand where he was coming from," Stiles sighed. "Scott is an eternal optimist. He thinks that people can change and things can be resolved, even when they can't. That's just who he is. That's what I love about him. He's the optimism to my snarky sarcastic realism. But it's the way he went about things that I… can't let go yet. And I don't… I don't want to say anything that can escalate into something that may be irreparable. And I can't lose him, he's like my brother."

Derek tilted his head, still not speaking, and this time it took Stiles even less time to continue talking. "I know you probably don't get it, like, fairly sure you hate him at this point, and… fair enough. But I… I need him in my life, but… Yeah, we're taking a break, so we can get past this."

"I do get it," Derek grunted and folded his arms, to suppress the instinct to reach out for Stiles. "He's part of your family. Family fights. Family disagrees. I don't… hold it against you that you'll want to get back to your friendship. I just…" Derek paused for a moment. "I wanted to make sure that I'm not the reason you don't smell like Scott. That you didn't choose between us."

"Oh," Stiles blinked those big, beautiful doe-eyes at Derek. "Okay. Thank… you."

When had Derek started thinking of Stiles as beautiful? It was undeniable, those eyes were captivating, but he had never acknowledged that in the past. Now, Derek found himself marveling more and more often at how beautiful Stiles was. His smiles, his mischievous grins, the stretch of his lips, how cute his upturned nose looked, the moles dotting his skin that Derek had memorized at this point, the way Stiles had been growing his hair out lately.

"There you are!" Lydia exclaimed, startling both of them. "Derek. Here. I have narrowed it down to these six couches, and these three floors for the living room."

At first, when Lydia had declared she was taking over decorating the house, Derek had growled and flashed his eyes at her. This was his family's home. She wasn't even pack. And he was not to be bossed around, by anyone, much less by a human who wasn't pack. Predictably, Stiles had raised his hands and pushed himself between them and offered a compromise. Lydia did the tedious ground work of picking things out, in a big enough selection that she would present to Derek, who had final say on everything. That, Derek had actually been okay with. The thought of flipping through catalogs to pick out carpets and tables and couches and compare prices was horrific. By now, Lydia and Derek had a very good routine with this and she had gotten more of a feeling for Derek's taste and gotten better at picking selections that he was more inclined to.

"Thank you, Lydia," Derek said with a sigh, when Stiles glared at him.

Because part of communicating with his pack was also showing gratitude and appreciation when they did a good job. Positive reinforcement. It… worked, very well. She smiled brightly at him and sat down on one of the chairs, getting her phone out of her pocket.

"You know," Lydia said casually. "I appreciate that you got over your crush on me, Stiles. This would have been… so much harder if you kept making heart-eyes at me. Jackson's been the jealous type even before he became a werewolf, but now he is…"

"Territorial," Stiles offered with a chuckle. "Yeah, I feel like him turning into a werewolf did a lot in the me getting over you. I know my crush couldn't compare to a mate-bond."

Derek was glad that none of the wolves were in the room to hear the surprised jump of his heart. How did Stiles know about mate-bonds? He lifted his gaze carefully off the selection, watching Stiles, even as Stiles kept his focus on Lydia. Derek also noted that Stiles wasn't lying, he was over his feelings for Lydia. Derek tried not to think about the way that made him feel.

"Mates?" Lydia echoed, raising her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on," Stiles groaned and tilted his head back, before staring dead ahead at Derek. "Don't tell me you still haven't had the bees and birds talk with the puppies!"

Knowing the answer and not even waiting for Derek to say anything, Stiles simply barreled on. "Mates, you know, like… like soulmates. But… not in the cheesy trope-y way of names written on your skin or whatever. Just… a perfect match, I guess? I think that wolves actually feel it though. Scott and Allison are mates. That's how I got onto that track to begin with, like, there was just no other way to explain them, and everything they did for each other. You can only excuse so much with rampant teen hormones. And yeah, Allison is Scott's anchor, which I guess is like another word for mates when it refers to a person instead of a thing or emotion. She grounds him, his love for her allows him to focus on his wolf. The same way that you allowed Jackson to regain control, back then. Because you're his anchor. You're his mate."

For the first time since Derek knew her, Lydia actually looked surprised and like she had encountered something that she had not expected. Derek's attention shifted to Stiles though.

"It's not another word for mate," Derek whispered. "Anchor. Your anchor doesn't have to be your mate, you don't need a mate to have an anchor. Parents, siblings, friends, they can be anchors too."

"Oh," Stiles blinked, like he hadn't expected for Derek to give any input at all, before he cracked a big smile. "But the rest is right? Did I do the right research?"

Slowly, Derek nodded. "Perfect match is… right, in a sense. We don't… know the moment we meet someone that they're 'the one', if that's what you mean. A perfect match is something forged. You can have multiple mates throughout your life, my aunt, she lost her first mate years before the fire, but she fell in love again and forged a new mate-bond."

"Okay," Stiles furrowed his brows curiously. "Then what makes a perfect match?"

"Mutual devotion," Derek could hear the words spoken by his mom, when she had explained this to him as a young boy. "A mate isn't just someone perfect for you, it's about… what you are willing to do for each other, support each other, help each other, make each other better. This mutual devotion to one another is what forges a mate-bond."

"Mh," Lydia blinked, repeatedly. "I suppose… that does apply to us. We are devoted to each other. Even through the worst of it, even when he was awful to me, even when I was awful to him."

"You are," Derek offered in a soft voice. "Mates, I mean. Wolves can smell it on each other and on claimed mates. And Stiles is also right about Scott and Allison. Which… is why I cut him as much slack as I did. I knew why he was so obsessed with the youngest member of the Argent family."

Stiles hummed in understanding, looking at Derek. Mates. Derek swallowed hard as puzzle pieces started to fall into place in a way he had so far tried to ignore. But having this conversation, and looking at Stiles during it, it became impossible to deny. Over the past year, they had helped each other, saved each other's lives, fought side by side. And now, for the past month, Stiles had helped Derek truly build his pack, strengthen his pack. Bringing Erica and Boyd back to him, forcing Derek to confront Jackson, whom he had avoided out of guilt because if Derek hadn't bitten him to begin with, Jackson would have never turned into the kanima and had to go through all that trauma, he had genuinely thought that Jackson wouldn't want to be a part of this pack. But it seemed that Jackson had needed as much of a push as Derek. And that was one thing Stiles excelled in; pushing. With Jackson came Lydia, of course. Mates. And now, suddenly, Derek's small pack of three betas who kept snarling at him had turned into a much happier pack of five betas and one Stiles.

Which, perhaps, was another reason why Derek had kept putting this realization off. Stiles was undeniably pack, he had been here every single day to rebuild the pack house, to bond with Derek and the betas, yet Derek could never bring himself to think of Stiles as a beta. At first, he pretended that this was because Stiles wasn't a wolf, was a human. But he didn't have the same qualms with Lydia, he considered Jackson's mate one of his betas. It was the way Stiles went about things that made him different from everyone else. Providing food and moral support for the betas, keeping them together, mediating between them, and between them and their Alpha, taking charge, at Derek's side by making Derek find a place to live, start renovating the house, change his training methods with the betas. That wasn't the kind of behavior a beta would be allowed to get away with. That was the behavior of an Alpha mate, the co-leader of the pack, the heart of the pack.

Stiles Stilinski was the Alpha mate of the Hale Pack. And Derek had no idea what to do with that.

/break\

Stiles heaved the most tired and exasperated sigh he possibly, physically could as he looked at his night time visitor. Hunched over and with a glare on his face was Jackson fucking Whittemore. In Stiles' bedroom, at like 2AM, alone – as in, without Lydia physically dragging him to Stiles' place.

"What are you doing here," Stiles asked. "Sorry. Rephrase. What are you doing here."

Jackson glared and flashed blue wolf eyes at him. Which, at this point in Stiles' life, did not faze him at all. Pff. Wolfies loved trying to be threatening but by now, Stiles knew their secret. They were all just oversized puppies. And none of them would actually harm Stiles. Or, at least he was fairly sure of it. Well, maybe he shouldn't be as sure about it with Jackson.

"I know the other betas come to you all the time. I heard them talk about it too."

Ah. Yes, that had somehow become a thing. Stiles was fairly sure that it had started the night Erica had climbed in through his window to demand he 'fix' the pack. Because two nights later, Erica and Boyd had climbed into his room, both looking so exhausted and like they hadn't slept at all in a while. There was a nervous energy about them, one that he recognized from himself after a panic attack. A haunted look in their eyes that Stiles recognized from his own mirror, from when another nightmare about the Argent basement yanked him out of his sleep. And that was that. In that moment of realization, what had kept them awake and what had brought them to him, specifically, he just hopped out of his bed and got more blankets and pillows so all three of them could huddle on the floor in front of his bed, together. Not speaking, especially not about what had happened, but being quiet companions to each other, relishing in the solace of shared pain.

That became a frequent thing. Not every night, but still often enough. Sometimes, both of them together, sometimes only Erica, other times only Boyd. And about a week into this new weird night time routine, Isaac joined the roster. He'd been awkward – a bit like Jackson was right now, though with less annoyance radiating off of him – and looked ready to flee if Stiles would say the wrong thing that might make him believe he wasn't wanted. So, instead, Stiles had sighed, lifted up his blanket and offered Isaac to join him in his movie marathon that he was half-way into. Isaac had gratefully cuddled up to him and was out like a candle after twenty minutes.

To this day, Stiles didn't know exactly what had brought Isaac to him that first night, but he had a pretty good hunch that he'd heard from Erica and Boyd that they came to Stiles about nightmares and sleeplessness and between the loss of his mother and brother, and the years of abuse at the hands of his father, Isaac probably had his fair share of nightmares too.

With that, Stiles' bedroom had kind of a rotating door – well, rotating window – where Derek's betas kept coming practically every single night. At this point, it was a rarity if Stiles got to sleep all on his own because at least one beta seemed to be over every night.

Still, this was the first night that Jackson Whittemore stood in front of his window. It had been about three weeks since he first dragged Jackson and Lydia to the Hale house and Stiles thought that Jackson was adjusting relatively well to pack life. He was a jock, he was used to adjusting to being in a group dynamic like this, in a way. It helped that Lydia was there too, and Stiles was genuinely so relieved that Derek hadn't protested Lydia's presence in the pack.

"So…" Stiles got up, walking over to where the additional blankets and pillows were stored in the corner of his room by now. "What's your thing? Wanna go to sleep, wanna talk about it, or wanna do something as a distraction first?"

Jackson's head whipped around to stare at him in surprise. "Just… like that? After everything, over the years, you're just… You're not even going to make fun of me for coming here?"

Stiles blinked at him, genuinely baffled. "I am not going to make fun of you for seeking help. I know I'm a bastard, but I'm not that big of a bastard."

That didn't fully convince Jackson, the jock still looked wary, but he did step closer. Stiles sighed, again, and plopped down onto one of the pillows, pulling the blanket against himself.

"When I was ten, my mom died," Stiles whispered, really hating how often this pack of rabid puppies made him bring up his mom. "And I had a lot of… nightmares, and panic attacks about it. And I thought I had to hide it from my dad, because you know, he just lost his wife, right? He had enough on his own plate. Didn't need to worry about me. It got… worse. Really bad. And it only got better when I did finally ask for help. But I know how hard it is to do that, especially with shit that's literally in your head. It's not like when you break a leg and get doted on, there is nothing physical to show for, nothing where you can see a progress of healing."

Jackson tensed but listened quietly. By the end, he finally sat down next to Stiles, accepting half of the blanket. Not looking at Stiles, though. Just staring dead ahead at the other wall.

"Sometimes, when I go to bed, I'm…" Jackson actually choked on the word. "...afraid, that what if when I wake up, I will have hurt someone else again? I'll get used again? So I can't sleep."

"You're no longer the kanima," Stiles spoke softly, also not looking at Jackson, so he wouldn't make the other boy uncomfortable. "The kanima is gone. And I know you know that, but… maybe hearing it will still help, somehow. It's gone, and you're a werewolf now, and you have a whole pack that you can rely on, you know. Like, you are not alone anymore. Not with this, or anything else. Derek's little band of misfits has gone through so much trauma too, each one of them. You're not an outsider for it. You'll be okay, Jackson."

No answer, neither snarky nor otherwise. Just silence, until they both actually fell asleep.

/break\

"Please, please, please, please, ple—ease, Stiles, I want something that's not sandwiches," Erica whined, pouting with a pleading expression on her face. "We finished the kitchen! It's all proper now, you could cook something real for us? No more sandwiches or take-out. Please?"

Derek actually froze where he was carrying materials to the basement. The ground level was pretty much finished now, kitchen and bathroom fully functioning, living room and library only missing their stuff and the last bits of furniture, but everything else was there. Same went for the upstairs, with the bedrooms and the additional bathrooms. Sure, the bedrooms were fully bare, still missing the personal touches and choices like wallpapers or paint, but there were rooms, which was already a huge improvement. This was, by now, a proper, actual house that people could live in. The only thing missing some more reconstruction was the basement, where he planned on installing cells and chains, for the full moon nights, as well as weapon cases and such. That was what him, Boyd and Jackson were working on right now, while Lydia and Stiles had been upstairs painting walls; the easier, not so physical labor taken on by the humans in the pack. Erica was supposed to be in the library with Isaac, putting together shelves. Instead, she was pestering Stiles.

Stiles heaved a sigh, the kind that meant the wolf got what she wanted (and the fact that Derek knew to decipher what which of Stiles' sighs meant – frustration, irritation, exhaustion, resignation – was a great concern to Derek). Derek just stood there, in the doorway and a bit out of sight, watching Stiles and Erica. The blonde squeaked and hugged Stiles tightly, rubbing her cheek against his face. Scent-marking him. Derek had seen the betas do it a lot, much more frequently these days. He'd even seen Jackson do it the other day, which had been a surprise. Stiles smelt… like pack. Not just in the sense that he was part of the pack, but he smelt like every single one of Derek's betas, far beyond the point of simple scent marking. Derek didn't entirely understand why.

"Oh, where do you think you're going, Catwoman?" Stiles huffed when she went to skip out of the room. "If you think that I will just stand here in this kitchen all on my own and cook for five werewolves and two humans, you are mistaken, young lady. Use your wolf speed and healing to do all of the veggie chopping that will be required."

"Why do you assume that I will need my healing for that?"

Stiles just raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Because you strike me as the kind of person who will burn her toast. So I don't trust you to not cut yourself if I give you a sharp knife."

Erica huffed, but she stopped arguing, which caused Derek to smile ever so softly. Shaking his head, he continued on his way down to the basement to 'puppy-proof' it, as Stiles had called it. Boyd and Jackson were working together, not arguing. That was another big improvement. When Jackson had first come to the pack, there had been a lot of snarling. The other betas seemed to have a slight superiority complex due to being wolves longer, which was only heightened by Jackson's haughty and arrogant attitude. But recently, they had been getting along more. Even joking around with each other. They were starting to behave like a real pack.

"Stiles is making dinner upstairs," Derek noted when he joined them.

"Yes, no pizza," Boyd groaned pleased. "...A sentence I never thought I'd say. But take-out got… repetitive at this point, we've been at this for a month now."

"That's what she said too. Apparently, teenage werewolves can only live off of sandwiches and take-out for so long," Derek drawled, raising his eyebrows.

"We appreciate the take-out," Boyd quickly defended when he saw the look. "And that you pay for all the food and stuff, Derek. But… something home-cooked is just, different, you know?"

"Mh, let's see if Stilinski can do more than whip up sandwiches."

Derek growled low, not actually angry, just a soft warning. If Stiles went out of his way to cook for them, he was not going to be met with ungratefulness. Though the look on Jackson's face wasn't one of malice, it was more like a… playful smirk. When and how had Jackson and Stiles become friends. What was Derek missing here. He frowned and then went to work.

"Gu—ys," Erica interrupted them about an hour or so later. "Dinner is ready!"

Boyd and Jackson were out of the basement so fast, Derek barely had time to put down his tools. He followed at a much slower pace. When he entered the kitchen, he sniffed curiously, unfamiliar with the scent of the meal. Tilting his head, he looked at the set table. No longer cheap plastic chairs and a foldable table, but rather a large, sturdy wooden table with matching chairs.

"What's for dinner?" Isaac asked as he sat down eagerly.

"Pierogi," Stiles replied, putting down a large pot at the center of the table.

Erica followed with another, and so did Boyd and Jackson, spacing the four pots enough throughout the long table. Slowly, Derek sat down at the head of the table, still trying to identify the scent.

"Piere-what?" Jackson frowned, peeking at the pots.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Well, it's not like your glorious leader over there has a well-stocked kitchen here, we've only made sandwiches at the house so far. But we did have potatoes, onions, butter and flour, so I decided to make pierogi. They're, like, Polish potato dumplings."

"O—Oh," Isaac perked up. "I've never had those."

"Neither have I," Lydia tilted her head. "How do you know how to make that?"

"You heard the Polish part, yeah?" Stiles motioned at himself. "Not having the last name Stilinski just because it's pretty. Both my parents are second generation immigrants. Though dad's parents did the whole 'we are American now' thing of trying to ignore their culture. That's how my parents met, actually. Because dad heard my mom speak Polish, and he'd always wanted to learn, but his parents were against it. And they talked, about the culture and what it's like for them as second generation. In the end my dad, the fox, asked her for tutoring so he could learn Polish. From how mom used to tell it, there was more kissing than learning the language though."

The smile on his lips as he spoke about his mom was so soft and warm but also filled with sorrow. It was kind of breathtaking, the balance between pain and love. Derek bit his lips and distracted himself by helping Stiles serve everyone from the delicious smelling food.

"Anyway," Stiles cleared his throat. "Mom was always proud of her heritage, and after how cut off from it my dad had been, he never wanted that for me. Wanted me to 'know my roots' and all that, so mom taught me, all her favorite recipes that she had learned from her mother."

"And do you actually speak Polish too, then?" Boyd asked curiously.

That actually made Stiles stutter ever so slightly in his motions. "I… I'm probably really rusty. Mom was the one who… Dad and I used to talk to her in Polish, so now that she's gone…"

An awkward silence stretched on, the wolves in the room being able to smell the heartache on Stiles and everyone now feeling a little guilty about ruining the mood by making Stiles sad. Derek was surprised when he found himself to be the one to break the silence, for a change.

"You should pick that up again," Derek spoke softly. "It was something that was important to you, to her. It'd be a nice way of remembering and honoring her legacy together, for you both."

A small, watery smile was aimed his way as Stiles nodded slowly. "I guess you're right. Yeah."

After that, Stiles cleared his throat, and with a much more light-hearted (albeit clearly forced) smile did he instruct everyone to eat up and not let his hard work go to waste. Derek had never had pierogi before, but in that moment, as he shared this home-cooked meal with his pack, this meal that his mate had made for them and that clearly meant a lot to Stiles, Derek thought it could become his new favorite food and he wouldn't mind having it every week.

/break\

Stiles groaned, feeling like he was being cooked alive. Four werewolves were decidedly too many werewolves. His head was resting on Boyd's chest, Isaac and Erica on one side of Stiles and having their heads laying on Boyd's stomach as he laid stretched out atop, Isaac kind of squished between Erica and Stiles, while Jackson was laying on Stiles' other side, one arm on Stiles' chest. This should be weird, this should be all types of weird and freaking him out, yet… it didn't. The first time he'd woken up spooned by a werewolf, it had freaked him out. Okay, the first three times it had happened. But by now Stiles was pretty used to the puppy piles happening in his bedroom.

All his life, it had just been him and Scott against the world. This though, this was different. For the first time, Stiles had this sense of community, of having found his people, a group that he belonged to. Which was absolutely ridiculous, considering they technically weren't his people; he was a human running with wolves. Still, they somehow managed to make him feel like a part of it.

"Stiles," his dad called from the hall. "C'mon, time to get up. It's my day off, we could… We could have breakfast together. We haven't done that in a while."

Stiles froze and stared at the four werewolves that were still asleep. In his room. Quickly and awkwardly did he worm his way out of the puppy pile to get out of his room before his dad would enter it. It was true, they had last had breakfast together like two weeks ago. Usually, the wolves would leave around dawn, though they were more likely to sleep in when it was all four of them. So far, that had only happened on the days his dad was out on a double shift or simply out early for his regular shift. This was the first time this happened when his dad had a day off.

"He—ello, father," Stiles smiled brightly as he squeezed out of his door. "Breakfast. Yes. Breakfast sounds great. I'll just, uh, quickly clean up my room and get changed and-"

"Your friends are welcome to stay for breakfast, Stiles."

Silence. Not just from Stiles, he could hear that the sounds of soft wolf snoring and sleepy grumbling had ceased too. Apparently, his dad's acknowledgment of their presence had fully woken the puppies up too. Stiles stood frozen in the doorway, gripping the door-frame tightly.

"W…" Stiles cleared his throat. "What."

"Stiles," his dad raised one unimpressed eyebrow. "I'm the sheriff. I'd be a lousy sheriff if I didn't notice the teenagers breaking and entering my house… nearly daily, at this point. The first time I saw Isaac Lahey sneak out of your bedroom window in the early morning, I thought you were hiding that you had a boyfriend. And I…" he looked away, actually looking a little ashamed. "I couldn't even fault you for that, son. I know I reacted poorly when you tried to come out to me, at that gay club. I thought you were just joking or something, but I know I should have listened to you and been more open to it. But at this point, I've seen multiple people sneak out of your bedroom, so I'm… unsure what is going on, exactly."

Stiles' eyes widened and his cheeks heated up and his heartbeat quickened so much, it felt like it was trying to break free from his rib-cage. These were like three separate, different conversations happening all at once and he was just a little overwhelmed with them.

"I am not dating Isaac, I swear," Stiles blurted out first. "Or Jackson, or Boyd, or Erica. This is not some weird polycule thing, I can promise you that. It's just. Uh. It's a…"

The words died on his tongue. It was a pack thing. Only that his dad didn't know about werewolves. And one of the three conversations here was the one about how much Stiles had been lying to his dad in the past year. He faltered at the thought of having to lie to his dad, again.

"It's a comfort-thing, sir," Jackson spoke up, approaching from behind. "I know you know that some… stuff happened, to me, last year. And it was kind of… traumatic. Stiles has been helping me with it. Has been helping all of us, with our issues."

"Yeah, the…" Stiles cleared his throat – half truths were good. "When I got beaten up after the game, they got Boyd and Erica too and we kind of just… share that."

Erica came to stand on his other side, hip-checking him with the smallest smile. Boyd loomed behind them all and Isaac looked so small as he pushed himself between Stiles and Jackson.

"I can talk to Stiles about my mom," Isaac said, very softly. "And about… losing her."

The look on the sheriff's face was one of pained understanding as he looked from one teen to the next. He heaved a sigh and rested a hand on Stiles' head, ruffling his by now relatively long hair. Well, long compared to the buzz-cut he'd had before, anyway.

"I still don't understand why they sneak in through your window instead of ringing the doorbell like normal people, and why you felt the need to hide it, but I do understand this."

"Well, they don't ring the doorbell because they usually come after a nightmare, at like one or two AM or later, so… when they get through my window, they won't wake you."

They walked down the stairs together, trailed by the puppies, through the sheriff still didn't look fully convinced. "And why are you keeping it a secret? You know you're allowed to have other friends beside Scott, right?"

Okay, wow, this one he could actually answer without lying. Sure, the whole 'they're werewolves' was kind of a factor there, but it really wasn't the main reason. Stiles turned around, walking backward into the kitchen so he could face his father and also motion at the betas.

"You, like, arrested half of them for murder in the past year," Stiles pointed out. "And one of them had a full on restraining order against me not that long ago – which, wait, is that still in effect? Because that could actually be a real problem-"

"I had it lifted," Jackson sighed and rolled his eyes. "Mostly because Lydia insisted."

Stiles nodded, pleased enough with that, and looked back at his dad. "Yeah. All of that. I just, I figured you might not really approve of the company I'm keeping, so I…"

"Thought it was better to lie to me about it?" Sheriff Stilinski raised an unimpressed eyebrow and heaved a sigh. "You didn't want for us to fight again, about this. Kiddo…"

The amount of feeling that his dad could pack into one 'kiddo' was actually suffocating. But he was right. Stiles averted his eyes and bit his lips. They'd been fighting so much about all of the lies Stiles had to tell his dad, because his dad was the sheriff and a damn good one and he could tell when he was being lied to, as well as all the trouble Stiles had been getting into. Like said restraining order and the cause of it, or all the people he accused of murder lately.

"I'm sorry," his dad sighed and pulled him into a hug. "I don't ever want you to feel like you can't talk to me. I know I've been giving you a hard time about your lies, but… not telling me anything isn't… I just, please talk to me again, Stiles?"

Stiles buried his face in his dad's chest, squeezing his eyes shut to keep from crying. "Got it, dad. I'll… I'll start telling you more again, okay? But… there are things that I just… can't tell you, and it's not because I want to lie to you, but more like… it's not my secret to tell? Can… Can you accept that, dad? Please? Because I can't stand us fighting."

A tired sigh escaped the sheriff as he shook his head. "You will have to tell me, at one point, even if it's not your secret, it is becoming your secret too, it's affecting your life. Talk to whoever this is about, but… you will have to tell me, sooner or later."
"I will," Stiles nodded against his dad's shoulder.

And he knew that he would, eventually. His dad had been in danger before because of the supernatural, Matt taking the station as hostages. Being out of the loop only made him an easy target. But right now, they finally got to breath, and a selfish part of Stiles just wanted to enjoy that, just wanted a little bit of rest. Since Gerard had slithered away, things had finally been peaceful.

He knew the next monster or hunter was going to arrive eventually, but right now, Stiles got to enjoy spending time with Derek's pack and have fun. Telling his dad would bring all the horrors to the forefront of his mind and, depending on how his dad was going to take it, it may also turn into a big personal disaster for Stiles, something that he simply wasn't ready for yet.

"So," Stiles cleared his throat and pushed off his dad. "Breakfast, right. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, cereal, all sound like a good menu? Who's ready to help?"

"I can crack the eggs," Isaac walked over to the fridge. "Erica can take care of the orange juice."

Erica stuck her tongue out at Isaac, knowing that it was a dig at Erica's failures in the kitchen. Boyd chuckled, earning an elbow from his girlfriend, even as he continued on to go and set the table for six. Jackson walked over to Stiles to help him with the pancake dough.

"I am, though," Stiles said, once he had his back to his dad. "Gay, I mean. Well, not gay gay. Umbrella term kinda gay. More like bi. Just. So you know."

His heart was hammering in his chest, because this was the first time he ever admitted that out loud to anyone who wasn't Scott, and he was painfully aware of the werewolves in the room with him. But he was so tired of keeping secrets from his dad and maybe telling him a truth would also help mend things. Besides, it wasn't like he was ashamed of being bi, he just never really had any friends aside from Scott he could have even told about it. His eyes flitted over to Jackson.

"Stop looking so nervous, Stilinski," Jackson huffed and rolled his eyes. "I'm bi too."

"What…" Stiles blinked surprised before mulling it over. "No, actually, that makes total sense."

Now it was Jackson's turn to give him a surprised look. "What does that even mean."

"Well, usually, in small towns like this, the openly gay kid ends up getting bullied, right? Not being best friends with the big-shot jock and cool kid, especially since you do have a bully-streak in you, but actually if you're bi, your friendship with Danny makes so much more sense."

Jackson blinked a couple of times, though he didn't reply, instead returning his attention to measuring the flour. Stiles couldn't help the tiniest smile. So Jackson had just shared something actually personal with him, who would have thought. Turning back some, he looked at his dad.

"Thank you for telling me," his dad spoke, like he'd rehearsed this bit. "And… if you do have a boyfriend, you can introduce him to me. He better not be sneaking in and out of your bedroom though, because I do have a gun, Stiles. Which, would also go for any hypothetical girlfriend."

"There is no hypothetical partner at all for you to shoot! I am pathetically, chronically single!"

Stiles waved his arms around wildly, blushing brightly. And why did his mind conjure up an image of a grumpily glaring Alpha climbing in through his window to ask about research for the nth time. That was silly. He didn't like Derek. Well, he liked Derek, but not like that. They'd become kind of friends at this point. Stiles liked spending time with the Alpha, all willingly and stuff. But not like that, right? This was just because Stiles was invested in Derek's puppies. Right?

/break\

Derek felt an overwhelming sense of warmth and satisfaction as he stepped into the Hale house. They were done. The last thing missing was their personal belongings, moving in properly. All the furniture was put together and in its respective rooms, everything was up and running. The pack followed him, carrying the last of boxes with Derek's and Isaac's things.

"I have to say, good work," Lydia commented pleased. "This turned out gorgeous."

"Yeah," Erica agreed, looking around. "It's all… warm and home-y. So not like the train depot or even the loft. This looks like a place to actually live in."

"Okay, let's get this stuff into Isaac's room," Boyd grunted. "Did you pick a room already?"

Isaac hummed his confirmation, grinning as he led the way upstairs. There were two bathrooms near the stairs, one on either side, and then the hall was lined with bedrooms, five on each side, with the master bedroom at the end of the hall, which also had a private bathroom because Derek was not sharing his bathroom with rowdy teenagers, he did need some privacy. As they reached the top of the stairs, Derek could feel a certain sense of nervousness blossoming in his chest. This part, he hadn't really discussed with the pack beforehand. He'd been too nervous, afraid of rejection.

"Oh, look, a name plate," Erica cooed as they reached it. "That's really cute, actually. Is that hand-carved? Did you get Isaac a hand-carved name plate with his name?"

"No," Derek'ss eyes were on the door next to Isaac's room. "I got you all hand-carved name plates."

They stood at the end of the hall, in front of the master bedroom. To its left was Isaac's room, Isaac had picked it to be close to his Alpha and guardian. Derek positioned himself awkwardly in front of the door right next to the master bedroom, blocking the name plate and instead directing everyone's attention to the room next to Isaac's, where a name plate said Erica. She made a soft, surprised noise. Next to Erica's room on the other side was Boyd's room.

"Derek, we are so not moving in with you, our parents would freak," Erica looked at him worried.

"Of course," Derek huffed and frowned. "But this is… not just my house, this is the pack house. You are pack, you need to know that you have a place here. If your parents annoy you, or you want to move out at home after graduation, or you just need a place to crash after a pack run, you have your own room, your own space, here. This is your home too."

"Oh," Erica's voice actually broke a little and she blinked away tears.

For a moment, Derek could see hurt and self-doubt flashing through Jackson's face. "Turn around."

The betas obeyed, turning toward the other side of the hall. Opposite Boyd's room was Jackson's, and opposite Erica's room was one labeled Lydia. The redhead made a pleased noise. It took the betas two seconds before they all ascended upon their new bedrooms to check them out, leaving only Derek and Stiles in the hall. Stiles made a soft noise as he elbowed Derek.

"Aw, Sourwolf," Stiles grinned broadly, teasing but at the same time genuine. "I'm proud of you. This is… a really nice touch. See, you're turning into a proper Alpha after all, thinking about your pack. I knew you had it in you. They can be lucky to have you."

Derek was still tense, still nervous, but there was something about the way Stiles always spoke that made it sound like he was excluding himself from the pack. Like he didn't think he was a part of it. And that couldn't stand. Convincing Stiles that that wasn't the case was more important than any insecurities he was battling with. He stepped aside, causing Stiles, who was kind of leaning against him, to stumble a bit and stare up at him in confusion. All Derek did was jerk his head at the last room left here, the one next to Jackson's, the one to the right of Derek's. The one that said Stiles.

"W…" Stiles cleared his throat. "Oh."

"You're part of this pack, Stiles. Don't doubt it."

"I… am?" Stiles frowned, looking up at Derek. "But… I was honestly sure you ever only put up with me because of Scott, since you wanted him in your pack, and sure, lately I've been Scott-less but I totally forced your hand here and inserted myself into all your pack business and-"

"Stiles," Derek growled softly. "You can't force my hand. You are literally physically incapable of forcing me to do anything. Much less this. This is my territory, if I didn't want you here, I would have had means to get rid of you, involving varying degrees of violence. You are here because I want you here. Because you're part of the pack."

Stiles' heart was racing to a near worrying degree and Derek found himself holding his breath. Waiting for the human's reaction. Fearing his rejection. Because Derek knew that Stiles had done all of this not to court him – even though taking care of an Alpha's pack, providing food for the Alpha and the pack, that was a classic way of courting an Alpha werewolf – Stiles had done all of this for his friends, to help them have a better Alpha.

"Scott…" Stiles started softly, furrowing his eyebrows in worry. "We're taking a break, but we are also going to rekindle. Because there's no version of my life that Scott's not a part of."

Another soft growl escaped Derek's throat. "I know. And though I don't want to, because he has crossed a line at this point, I am willing to give him… one last chance. For you. Because he's important to you. Rekindle your friendship with him and bring him into the pack, because he can't be an omega. He can't be an omega on my territory. I let it slide before, because I was trying to make him join my pack, and then because my pack was… too small and weak to risk in such a dispute. But now, I have a strong pack, and I am no longer desperate to add him. I am currently tolerating him because of you. He has one last chance, or he has to go."

Derek ground his teeth hard. Stiles stared at him incredulously, like he couldn't fully grasp the concept that he was wanted and that Scott could be the plus one that was being tolerated. Derek didn't like that, he wanted to make Stiles understand and believe that he was worth so much more.

"Right," Stiles nodded sharply. "I… I know. I mean, that he can't be an omega. I saw Jackson when he was on the verge of becoming an omega. And I know that the only reason Scott hadn't descended like that after the bite was because he had me, Allison, Lydia and Jackson. His pack, you called us that before. Now, three outta those four are… uh… part of your pack. And… I hope, I really hope, that that's enough to make him realize that too."

Derek nodded sharply, but before he had a chance to say anything else, he suddenly got tackled by Stiles in a clingy, tight hug. Swallowing hard, Derek tried to fight his blush and hoped the betas were too distracted to notice the jump in his heartbeat.

"Thanks, Sourwolf," Stiles whispered. "I know… what Scott did was fucked up, and you don't owe him another chance. I know how much this means. Thank you."

In that moment, Derek realized there was nothing he wouldn't do for his mate. He would tear down the world, if Stiles asked him to. So, instead of saying anything, he simply grunted a confirmation.

/break\

At this point in his life, Stiles didn't even jump or turn around when his window opened at night. It was far too much of a regular thing. Even though Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Jackson knew to use the front door – his dad had told them under which stone the additional house key was hidden, so they could get in without waking him by ringing the doorbell. One shared family breakfast and his dad was fully enamored with Derek's pack of puppies. Seemed that was a Stilinski trait.

"It smells like pack in here."

Blinking surprised, Stiles turned around. Okay. Not one of his regular night time visitors. Though then again, the original night time visitor. Derek Hale stood in his room, sniffing around. He really looked like a big puppy trying to catch a scent and Stiles had to try hard not to laugh.

"Yeah, they are spending so much time in here, it figures," Stiles chuckled.

"Mh?" Derek made a small, curious noise and stared at Stiles.

"Oh," Stiles ruffled his hair, now feeling awkward. "Uh, yeah, they've… been dropping by at night. Not every night. Not everyone every night. But, you know, yesterday it was Isaac, the night before it were Boyd and Erica. They… have been coming to me when they can't sleep."

Derek made that noise again and it made Stiles nervous because he didn't know what it meant, it was too soft to be anger and he had never heard Derek make it before. The Alpha walked deeper into the room, still sniffing around, probably trying to determine how frequent the betas were here.

"I noticed Isaac sneaking out of the loft every other night. I assumed he went to take a night time run to calm himself down. That's what I used to do. So he's been coming here?" Derek frowned. "What… are they doing? What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Stiles shrugged and tilted his head. "I mean, sometimes we watch a movie, or play video games, if one of them needs a distraction. But otherwise, they're just kinda… crashing here. I put down pillows and blankets and we have a sleepover. Puppy piles, really. It has happened more than once that I found myself at the center of an entanglement of werewolf limbs."

He laughed, but the look on Derek's face was so weird and unreadable, it made him nervous again. Okay, this was somehow worse than the growling and threats, because Stiles at least could read those. This? This had him at a total loss. What was going through Derek's head here?

"I didn't think about this," Derek frowned – and now this one, Stiles actually knew! That was the 'I am a bad Alpha' frown that Stiles had hoped to not see make a reappearance. "I mean, we scent each other, of course, but… pack piles… they were something we used to do on lazy Sundays when everyone could sleep in and stay at home and the family was together… I didn't think…"

Oh. Stiles blinked and then he got up and walked over to Derek, hugging him impulsively. It was something that Stiles had come to do more and more. Initiating physical contact with other pack members, just going with what felt right. He rubbed his cheek against Derek's, scenting, the way he'd seen the betas do. Sure, he wasn't a werewolf and didn't have those instincts, but he still had his observation skills and knew what to look out for as being important. Scenting was very important among pack. Though he'd never done it with Derek, partially because he feared to get his throat ripped out, partially because he hadn't thought of himself as part of the pack. But now that he knew he was pack, it was okay to do this with Derek too, right? He was Stiles' Alpha, after all.

"Okay. So, there's that big, unused room downstairs, right? The one that you had planned as a dining room, but then we kind of always end up eating in the kitchen anyway since we got so used to it during renovations. How about we convert that into like a den?"

"A den," Derek echoed, staring at Stiles in surprise.

"Yeah, like, putting down actual mattresses on the floor – because not everybody in this pack has super healing powers to let their spine recover from sleeping on the floor, I think I should bill you for my chiropractor at this point actually – and buy a huge pile of pillows and blankets for it and just, turn it into like one big nest or whatever, for pack cuddles. Make those a part of pack meetings, and after the full moon so the puppies can cuddle and recharge. Whatcha think?"

Silence stretched on for too many moments to be comfortable for Stiles, making him desperately want to fill the silence. Instead, he fidgeted, waiting for the Alpha to react. Why did this feel so much more weird now? He had no idea waltzing into the train depot to demand Derek get a loft would lead to this. But now that he knew he was part of the pack, and there was a hierarchy or whatever, that Derek was his Alpha, he found himself so much more lost and awkward. Like suggesting the wrong thing could get him kicked out of the pack, or something like that.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow morning, at ten."

"Huh?" Stiles blinked at the Alpha in confusion. "More context?"

"So we can go and buy mattresses and all that other stuff you just said."

"Oh," Stiles blinked again, and then offered a blinding smile. "Okay! Yeah. Sounds good."

Derek grunted pleased. And then he… didn't go out the window. He walked over to the corner where the pillows and blankets were and started laying them out in front of Stiles' bed. He then just laid down and got comfortable. Derek Hale. Sleeping in his bedroom.

"It smells like my pack here. But not like me. The betas need to smell me here too, to make this a real pack space. I'm staying the night. Go back to bed, Stiles."

Right. Sure. Totally a reasonable request. Stiles would absolutely fall asleep easily knowing that Derek Hale was laying in front of his bed. The moment he laid back down and stared up at the ceiling with wide, unblinking eyes was when he realized that oh damn it all, he did like Derek like that. He had a crush on Derek. Because this was different, this felt so much different from how it did with Boyd, Erica, Isaac or Jackson. Sure, he was attracted to Derek, but honestly who wasn't, the man was a masterpiece. But liking Derek? Having feelings for Derek? That was something else. Something that Stiles didn't entirely know how to cope with. The last thought on his mind before falling asleep was that damn, he really did have a type. Gorgeous, unobtainable people.

/break\

Derek had to remind himself that Stiles didn't know what he was doing. That Stiles didn't know he was making himself Derek's perfect match by always being there, always helping him, always supporting him. That Stiles didn't know he was actively courting Derek by continuously providing food to Derek and Derek's pack and by taking care of the betas.

Two nights ago, Derek had come to Stiles to ask him if he would come over for the full moon, prepare something to eat for the betas and keep Derek company while the betas waited it out in the basement. He hadn't even gotten to ask Stiles, because the overwhelming scent of pack in Stiles' bedroom had thrown him off. Learning that the betas were seeking Stiles out, not just as a friend and confidant, but much more like an Alpha mate, for comfort and guidance… It made Derek's heart clench and made it incredibly hard not to kiss Stiles right then and there.

And then Stiles had to go ahead and suggest a den. So all Derek could do was mark his territory. Claim the space in front of Stiles' bed, that smelt the most like the pack, and sleep there. The next morning, he left through the window before Stiles woke up, so he could shower and change at the Hale house before taking the Camaro back to Stiles' house to pick him up for the shopping trip.

At the store, Derek fully took a step back and let Stiles pick everything. Because that was what the Alpha mate did; decorate the den, create the comfort space for the pack. And Derek was aware that this was becoming a problem, that he kept relinquishing these things. Allowing Stiles to play the part of Alpha mate without claiming Stiles. He just… couldn't.

He was too afraid to be rejected, to lose someone again, he had lost so much and so many, he didn't know if he could handle losing a potential mate. Because he never had one. All his life, he'd dreamed of finding a potential mate. He'd thought he could have that with Paige, but looking back, he was aware that it had just been a normal teenage crush and that he had projected his desperate desire for a love story like his mom and dad had. This was different though. With every day, Derek could feel the potential bond between them strengthening. Breaking it because Stiles rejected him would hurt so much worse. Part of his fear of rejection did stem from Stiles being human. Derek could feel it, could feel the forming bond between them and he had his wolf instincts, saw the werewolf mate behavior that Stiles displayed. However, Stiles didn't display that on purpose, he didn't have those instincts, or the cultural understanding for what was happening, he had no feeling for the bond, he would just have this awkward, grumpy guy who had threatened him so much in the past suddenly hitting on him. How could Stiles not reject him.

"Hey there, Sourwolf. You are looking… sour… What's up?"

Furrowing his brows, Derek crossed his arms in front of his chest a little tighter. He was leaning against the doorway of the library, watching Stiles, letting his mind wander. Apparently, Stiles had noticed his presence after all. It was always a bit of a gamble how long it'll take Stiles to notice people when he was in the library, because Stiles could hyperfixate on any kind of research for hours with no break and without noticing his surroundings. It was mesmerizing to watch.

And Stiles didn't even realize that Derek had built the library for him. The old Hale house didn't have a library. His mother had an office that had housed some of the books, but the majority of them had been locked up in their family vault. He'd gotten them out specifically for Stiles, to give the teen access to the tomes that held all the knowledge Stiles was craving.

"Upcoming full moon," Derek grunted softly. "First one since we moved to the house."

"Ah," Stiles tilted his head back. "Worried the puppies will scratch up the couch. Understandable."

The fact that Derek didn't even growl at the dog jokes anymore was a sign for how enamored he was with Stiles at this point. He sighed and pushed off the door frame to walk over to Stiles. Looking over the teen's shoulder, he saw that Stiles was doing research into magic users.

"Is there a threat?" Derek asked, a low growl to his voice.

"What, no. Just the natural Stilinski curiosity rearing its head," Stiles chuckled. "I just… I don't trust Deaton. So I'm not going to ask him about it. Also because that guy has never given a straight answer in his life. But I want to be prepared, so I want to know… what kind of magic users there are, what they're capable of, what their weaknesses are. Because our pack can punch well, but if some witch comes in and turns you all into daisies with a magic spell, we'd be fucked."

Derek's chest rumbled when Stiles said 'our pack'. Even if Stiles didn't mean it that way, meant it in the way that they were both parts of the pack. He watched the way Stiles near forcefully tapped his pencil against the book, a frown on his face. There was something else to this, something Stiles wasn't telling him. Just two months ago, he would have growled and pinned Stiles against a wall about his secrecy. Now, he trusted Stiles. Whatever it was, if it was important, if it was any of Derek's business, then Stiles would tell him eventually.

"The full moon," Derek spoke up after a moment. "Be here. If you come early, we can go grocery shopping beforehand, so you can have everything here that you'll need."

Stiles grinned amused and cocked one eyebrow. "You do know that I am, like, not your personal chef though, right? Like, try and put a 'please' there. Even your puppies can say please when they want me to cook something for them."

Derek growled, though it was more of a playful sound, feeling teased by his mate. "We both know that you enjoy cooking for the pack. And after a full moon, they're going to be ravenous. So it's either me ordering the entire menu at a restaurant for take-out, or you getting to go all out."

There was so much giddiness radiating off Stiles and it pleased Derek. "Okay, okay, fine, you got me. I like cooking for your unruly puppies. It's nice. It… reminds me of how family dinners used to be, when mom was still alive, when my grandparents would come over. It's just… me and dad and with dad's shifts, he's usually not home for dinner, so I just cook for myself."

Derek rested a gentle hand in Stiles' neck, squeezing it in comfort. "Be here at three and we'll go to the store together. I'll carry the groceries, we're gonna need a lot."

The smallest grin was on Stiles' face, enigmatic and somehow like he could fully see through Derek. Which was a terrifying thought, considering how much Derek was hiding from Stiles at this point. Stiles grabbed an empty piece of paper out of the pile.

"Okay, so, menu plan for five ravenous wolves. I'm taking meal suggestions."

"Pierogi," Derek answered, without missing a beat. "They're my favorite."

He could hear the way Stiles' heart jumped at that admission and a bright smile spread over Stiles' lips. It hadn't taken the pack long to figure out how much Stiles enjoyed cooking all of his mom's Polish recipes in particular. The betas had even gone out of their way to google Polish meals so they could make specific requests from Stiles. Usually, that ended with Stiles cackling about how much they butchered the pronunciation, but it also always made Stiles very happy.

/break\

Lydia was sitting on the armchair in the corner, reading a book. Aside from Stiles, she was the only one to actually use the library. The betas had all wrinkled their noses at Stiles when he'd suggested they could read up on the supernatural too. Lydia however, she was Stiles' sister in spirit when it came to research and knowledge. And Stiles found himself glad that he had gotten over his crush on her too, because it was so much fun to research stuff with her, spin theories and just hang out. To be friends with her, something that he had never really considered before all of this.

So Lydia was sitting on the armchair and reading up on other forms of weres right now, while Derek was sitting on the couch, a round table between armchair and couch. All three of those positioned opposite the cells in the basement, where the four puppies were nicely separated.

After cooking dinner, Stiles had driven off again. He didn't tell them where he was going, but one look at Derek and he knew the Alpha knew. Things were still rocky and they didn't hang out much for fun, but Stiles was not leaving Scott to roam freely. He went to the McCall house with two pairs of shackles and helped Melissa secure Scott, leaving a container of pierogi for Scott, before he returned to the Hale house to find the betas properly locked up and Lydia reading.

"Is he okay?" Derek asked softly when Stiles sat down next to him.

Stiles' heart fluttered, that Derek would ask. "Yeah. Melissa got him. I helped her shackle him up properly in their basement and put a mountain ash circle around him, just to make sure that even if he breaks the chains, he won't get to attack her. I told her to break the circle in the morning."

Derek hummed at that. After a few moments, Stiles started nervously tapping his fingers against his knee, wishing he had thought ahead like Lydia and brought a book with him too. The puppies were busy growling and snarling and trying to break free. Derek, Stiles and Lydia were sitting with them for moral support, and to watch just in case their titanium cages would break (so unlikely. Derek had spent a small fortune on those). Stiles startled when something was shoved in his lap. Looking down, he realized Derek had dropped the book Stiles was currently reading into his lap, together with his notepad and a pencil. Blinking in amazement, he looked back at Derek.

"You're too fidgety when you don't have something to focus on," Derek grumbled. "Just do your research while we wait for them to settle down."

A small, soft smile spread over Stiles' lips as he looked up at the Alpha. What a big softy. That was probably what Stiles loved the most about Derek. How much Derek loved his pack and cared about each and every one of them. It had taken him some to realize that, because Derek was super awkward about these things, but the longer Stiles had gotten to watch him, the more he'd noticed just how fiercely Derek cared about his betas. And Stiles loved that. Loved Derek.

"I found a book on the topic you said you were looking into," Lydia piped up after a moment, not looking up from her book. "It's in ancient Greek, called Spinthíras. Spark."

Stiles took a sharp breath at that and nodded sharply. "Yeah? In the library?"

"No. Online. I bought it. It should arrive in a month or so. No expedited shipping, I'm afraid."

"Oh," Stiles deflated a little. "Okay. Thanks."

Derek next to him hummed curiously, prompting Stiles to explain. Stiles wasn't ready to fully explain, because it sounded stupid and silly and even arrogant to him. He'd done one stupid trick with mountain ash, that didn't make him special. Still, something about the incident had rubbed him the wrong way and he wanted to know more. The term spark was the only thing he had to go on and he'd obsessively read every book in the Hale library about all kinds of magic users, with no mentions to sparks or what they could be, so he'd asked Lydia for help.

/break\

Derek blinked, feeling warm, not just physically but emotionally. Looking around, he couldn't help but smile. After the betas had calmed down, when the full moon ended, they had raided the kitchen, heated up all the food Stiles (with the help of everyone else, of course; Derek was not going to let his betas get lazy and take Stiles' cooking for granted). Once everyone was sated, they had gone upstairs, showered and got changed into pajamas before meeting again in the den, where they had all fallen asleep curled around each other. Derek, as the Alpha, was laying at the center, and he had quickly pulled Stiles along with him, tucked against his side. Isaac was sprawled out over both their legs, curled together like an actual puppy. Erica and Boyd were on Stiles' side, Erica's head on Stiles' chest and Boyd curled around Erica from behind to the point that he also curled a little around Stiles. Lydia and Jackson were mirroring Boyd and Erica, but on Derek's side.

It was the first time they had a proper pack pile at the house and Derek hadn't realized how much he had missed this. It had been something so natural with his family, but it had also inherently felt like a family thing. It hadn't occurred to him that he could have this with his new pack.

Turning his face, he looked down at Stiles, still deep asleep after the all-nighter of watching the betas. He didn't look peaceful in his sleep, the way romance novels always made it sound. No, even in his sleep, Stiles looked like his mind was going a hundred miles a minute, his body constantly twitching in some way like he couldn't even stay still in his sleep. And Derek found it utterly endearing. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the scent of his pack deeply. With a pleased purr rumbling in his chest did he lean down further, so he could bury his nose in Stiles' hair. It was longer now, and it suited Stiles so well. It was also good for burying his nose in to inhale his mate's scent, with no other scents distracting him. Only Stiles. Like honey, ink and lightning. This was the smell of his mate, the smell of safety and home.

"Mornin'," Stiles yawned widely and tilted his head so he could look up at Derek.

"Morning," Derek repeated, getting lost in Stiles' big brown eyes. "You slept well?"

"Believe it or not, I have grown concerningly used to sleeping squished between walls of firm werewolf muscle," Stiles huffed out a small laugh. "But the mattresses were a good idea. This is so much more comfortable than the floor in my bedroom."

Derek grunted at that, pleased that his mate approved of the den. Was this how his mother had felt, falling in love with a human? He knew many wolves with wolf-mates had sneered at her or whispered behind their backs, not understanding how she could possibly fall for a human who didn't have their instincts. But there was something so much more pure – raw – about the way Stiles took to pack life, to their culture, even though it wasn't his, because he didn't have the same instincts. He did all of this, for their pack, without his instincts telling him to. He did it out of pure, sincere devotion, because he cared for them, because he wanted to.

/break\

It was a normal Saturday afternoon, Stiles was in the Hale library, when everything changed. He'd put his magic research on ice for now, until Lydia's book arrived, so instead, he had decided to read up on pack dynamics and stuff. Now that he was actually part of the pack, he felt like he should know more. He'd never really bothered before, because, well, not his circus, not his puppies. Being a part of the pack though, he felt like he had to study up, because he didn't have the wolves' instincts to tell him what to do and when to do something.

The more he read, the more pieces started to fall into place, the more his heart-rate spiked. Alphas, betas and omegas he had known about. Emissaries, usually druids but potentially also other kinds of magic users, who aided the pack and advised the Alpha. But the part that made his heart race were the sections about the Alpha mate. Co-leader of the pack, the heart of the pack, most texts claimed. The one betas went to for advise and for comfort, the one to provide meals that were shared among the whole pack, the one to make the Alpha a better leader. Or, in short: Stiles.

"Stiles," Derek actually sounded breathless as he came running into the room. "What's wrong?"

"What," Stiles blinked and looked up. "Wait, weren't you out on a run with the puppies-?"

"Your heart. It's racing. You're in distress," Derek kept looking around wildly. "We thought you were under attack. We came back as fast as we could. What happened?"

Well, that was embarrassing. But also. No, seriously, this was not something he could brush off.

"I'm your mate," Stiles blinked up at Derek, causing the Alpha to freeze. "I've been filling the role of Alpha mate all summer. And you just… let me. Why did you let me do that. Am I your mate?"

Stiles didn't need super hearing to know that now it was Derek's heart racing in an unhealthy rhythm, if the panic on Derek's face was anything to go by. Stiles held up the book he was reading.

"So I figured I should learn more about pack dynamics and hierarchy, now that I'm actually part of a pack of werewolves, and just, imagine my surprise when I was reading about Alpha mates," Stiles raised both eyebrows. "Seriously, Derek, I need you to actually react here. Speak up. Use words."

The Alpha actually faltered some, looking smaller than Stiles had ever seen him. "I didn't… At first, I didn't realize that was what you were doing. But when I did, I just… I knew that you didn't realize what you were doing, so I let it slide."

"No," Stiles furrowed his brows and shook his head. "That's not it. Now, try the truth."

"I…" Derek seemed even smaller, younger than Stiles had ever seen him before. "You don't have the instincts. I didn't think you would… I thought you might…"

And oh. Stiles' face softened and he put the book down. The stupid Alpha was expecting to be rejected by Stiles and he had tried to avoid that by not telling Stiles. Walking over to Derek, he came to stand in front of the Alpha, who was decidedly not looking at him. With a sigh did Stiles reach out to cup Derek's face and make the emotionally constipated werewolf look at him.

"I…" Stiles' voice was shaking with his own nerves, even though he now practically knew that it was reciprocated. "I am in love with you, Derek Hale. Like, stupid in love. I've done all of this, not just for the puppies, but also for you, because I knew you could be a great Alpha, you just needed some help. And I like helping you. I like this part I've been playing in the pack, even if I didn't know what it meant, but I… would like to keep playing that part."

Derek's eyes widened and he stared at Stiles with the most fragile hope Stiles had ever seen. Leaning up, Stiles pressed a gentle kiss against Derek's lips, his own pulse quickening at that. He had just kissed Derek Hale. Derek blinked at him in awe when Stiles retreated, though he didn't let Stiles retreat much, because that kiss broke the last of Derek's doubt. The wolf wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist and pulled him close, as close as physically possible, and then he was the one kissing Stiles. Kissing Stiles with not just passion but so much love, it took Stiles' breath away.

"Mate," Derek whispered against Stiles' lips. "You are my mate. I… I love you, Stiles."

Stiles leaned forward, into Derek. This was absolutely not how Stiles had expected his summer to go. Getting a boyfriend, and a whole pack of puppies? Biting his lip, Stiles tried to hide his broad smile. Alpha mate, huh. He liked the sound of that. The next big bad better watch out for their pack.

~*~ The End ~*~