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Today’s pack meeting had been a rather tense one, with Derek brooding in a corner, his dark mood clouding over everyone. For exactly that reason, Scott had decided to keep the meeting short - not that anything of import was happening anyway - before Derek’s glaring managed to get on everyone’s nerves.
Soon enough, everyone had gone home, leaving Derek to stare out the window, ignoring Stiles who was the only one who stayed behind.
Stiles wasn’t too keen on being ignored though.
“Derek, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“What.” Derek snapped, turning around and flashing his eyes in warning at Stiles. The boy was less than amused at his attempt at intimidation, corners of his mouth twisted down a little.
“Don't ‘what’ me, sourwolf, you know damn well ‘what’. Why are you suddenly so jealous, dude?”
Derek’s frown deepened, not liking where Stiles was going with this. It was a conversation he had been hoping to never have, in fear of getting his suspicions confirmed.
“I'm not jealous. And don't call me dude-”
“Oh get off it.” Stiles snapped, cutting him off before he could continue. “You've never been this angry with me before, and you're snapping at Peter like you haven't done in years. And you only started doing this since Peter and I started hanging out. So. Jealous. Spill.”
“I'm not jealous of anyone.”
Derek could actually hear his own heartbeat skip at that lie, and he had to concentrate not to let it show on his face. Stiles clearly didn’t believe him either, if his snort was anything to go by.
“Really? People fall for that? Try again.”
“Why do you even care?” Derek tried to deflect, not liking where this was going. Why couldn’t Stiles just leave it be and leave already? It should be obvious that Derek didn’t want to talk about it.
“Because contrary to what you think,” Stiles continued, ignoring all of Derek’s silent signals, “I do care about your general wellbeing, and that means caring about whatever is making you more pissy and frowny-sad than usual. And it was either ask you, or punch you for hurting Peter.”
Wait, what? Hurt Peter?
“I haven't hurt Peter.”
He would never hurt his uncle. Not after everything that had happened, that he had finally made peace with, that Peter had finally made peace with. He cared for his uncle, he certainly didn’t want to hurt him.
“If I can see the distance you're taking because of your jealousy, you can be damn sure that he has noticed it too. Why do you think he hasn't come by in a week?”
“I don't care.”
Another lie. A rather weak one at that. Stiles rolled his eyes at him, crossing his arms with an unamused look.
“Yes, you do. But for your information, Peter stopped coming by because he's afraid to get confirmation that you hate him. And he wouldn't be able to take that.”
That information startled Derek, and he looked taken aback. Why would Peter think he hated him? He doesn’t - he hasn’t hated Peter in a long time.
“But I don't-”
“I know that. You probably know that somewhere in that wolfy brain of yours.” Normally Derek didn’t really appreciate Stiles’ bluntness, but at this moment it only served to make his point. A point Derek needed to hear. “But he doesn't. And Peter doesn't want to lose you again.”
Okay. So, Derek might have to admit that he fucked up somewhere. He lost some of the tenseness in his stance, arms falling limply down his sides as he realized with a shock that he might have actually done irreparable damage to his rocky relationship with Peter.
Which was the opposite of what he wanted. But it had hurt, hurt so much, seeing Stiles and Peter being so close, spending so much time together while Derek - while Derek was apparently too busy being jealous to notice that he was actively pushing Peter away.
“...He won't.” Derek finally answered Stiles. “I'm not abandoning him again.”
“That's not - look, that's something you two will have to talk about. Just. Go talk to him. And for God's sake stop being jealous of me for being closer to Peter than you are. Trust me when I say that I am not, nor do I want to, fuck Peter.”
Wait. What? Did he just mishear - what the hell was Stiles on about? Derek floundered a little, trying frantically to scrape together the brain cells that had just exploded by what Stiles had just said, and what he was insinuating.
“What-But-I-” Derek desperately tried to search for words, ready to start denying what Stiles had just insinuated, but he was cut off before he could.
“I'm not blind. You two are both oblivious idiots in need of a nudge. Seriously, go talk to him. Suck his dick. I don't care, but if I haven't heard from Peter in a couple of days that you have at the very least talked things out, I'll come back here and personally beat some sense into you.”
Derek had apparently not misheard Stiles. The boy had indeed been insinuating that he wanted to - well - be in a relationship with his uncle. Though he put it a lot cruder than that.
And it’s not - Stiles wasn’t wrong. Derek did love his uncle, god he loved his uncle a lot more than was acceptable, and he knew he shouldn’t. Though, apparently, if you asked Stiles, it was rather acceptable.
Wait. Did Stiles just say they were both oblivious? As in him, and Peter? Did Stiles just insinuate - he needed to talk to Peter.
Oh god, he needed to actually use his words and make talk to Peter, and explain his jealousy - damn Stiles for being absolutely correct - and hopefully fix what he almost destroyed, and. Well, he wasn’t ready to think about the last ‘and’ yet. Because Stiles could insinuate for all he wanted, he didn’t think it was quite as easy a thing to talk about as Stiles seemed to think.
Speaking of Stiles.
“I… Okay? But you-I don't understand, why are you-”
Because really, Stiles was taking this all way too easily. As if it was normal to him.
“Do the math.” Oh. Oh. OH. ” But do the math after you have had a chat with your hot as burning uncle, dude.”
Math done. Holy shit. Derek wondered if Peter knew about that, and made a mental note to ask - if he managed to make it up to Peter.
“I hate you.” Derek said, but the response was pretty automatic and he obviously didn’t mean a word of it, lost as he was in his many, many swirling thoughts.
Stiles rolled his eyes masterfully, but his face seemed to finally relax again, losing the grim seriousness that had looked so out of place on his face.
“Maybe now, but you'll thank me later. Toodles!”
With a grin and a wave, Stiles was out of the loft, leaving Derek sputtering silently. And, though he would deny it for the rest of his life, flushing furiously at the images Stiles had expertly put in his head.
----
When Derek knocked on the door to Peter’s apartment - the next evening, because that’s how long it took him to work up the courage - he didn’t expect a warm welcome.
After his conversation with Stiles, which had been mostly one-sided with a splash of scolding, Derek had taken a long look at himself and his actions towards Peter ever since his uncle and Stiles started hanging out.
And he found himself more than a little bit horrified.
Where he and Peter had been mending their relationship pretty damn well, Derek might have very well fucked it all up again when he abruptly stopped talking to Peter, instead hiding - well, brooding - in a corner.
Looking back on it, Derek realized that Peter hadn’t pulled back like he had, that Peter had been trying to pull him back into conversations, trying to get him to open up again.
He’d been the reason Peter had slowly retreated, showing up less and less at the loft. Not Stiles, hell, Stiles was probably the only reason Peter hadn’t just completely disappeared. He , Derek himself, had been the reason.
He’d actually managed to hurt the one person he’d never wanted to hurt again.
So no, Derek wasn’t surprised that when Peter finally opened the door, he was greeted with a blank face, carefully shielded emotions, and a too perfect heartbeat.
“Can I come in?” Derek blurted out when the silence between them stretched uncomfortably.
Peter looked him over shortly, and for a moment Derek thought that he would be denied entrance, be denied the chance to mend his fuck-up. But Peter eventually let go of the door and walked back into his apartment.
Leaving the door open for Derek to follow, but not explicitly welcoming him in.
This was going great already.
Derek closed the front door behind him, and took his shoes off before walking deeper into the apartment. He remembered how much Peter hated it when someone dirtied up whatever he considered his space, and now was not the time to test whatever was left of Peter’s patience.
Walking through the living room, Derek followed the sound of clanging pots into the kitchen, lingering a little unsurely at the entrance.
Peter seemed to be making something extravagant for dinner, but he was doing so with abrupt, almost jerky movements, nearly splashing some sauce over himself. No longer in his comfort zone with Derek there.
Just being here was already hammering Stiles’ points home again and again.
“I’m sorry.” Derek blurted out from where he was lurking in the doorway, and Peter’s movements stopped.
For a moment, there was only silence in the kitchen aside from the sputtering of the food, and Derek wanted to hit himself. This was not how he wanted to start this conversation, at all. Well, he did want to apologize, but he had imagined how he would start the conversation a lot differently in his head.
Peter didn’t turn to look at him but also didn’t continue cooking, and the silence dragged on uncomfortably.
It was quite obvious that Derek would have to be the conversationalist for once.
“I’m just - Peter .” Taking a gamble, Derek walked further inside the kitchen, ignoring the pang of pain in his chest when he saw Peter tense.
“What do you want, Derek?” Peter finally said. He was visibly frowning, but just smelled sad and distressed. The complete opposite of what Derek was used to from his uncle, and that’s what pushed Derek further.
Not giving Peter the time to realize what he was doing, Derek quickly walked behind him and wrapped his arms around his uncle’s waist tightly.
Peter tensed immediately, but didn’t wrench away from his hug, seeming to just be frozen in place.
“I’m sorry.” Derek whispered to Peter’s back, dropping his forehead against his uncle’s spine to hide his face as he continued.
Everything he was about to say might just push his uncle even more away from him, and if this was the last comfort - one-sided though it was - he could get from Peter, he would take it.
“I got - I got jealous. Of Stiles.”
And his words got stuck in his throat again, but thankfully at least this seemed to get some reaction out of Peter finally.
Feeling the muscles in Peter’s back move, Derek was afraid that he was about to be pushed away, and he tensed a little in preparation. But Peter just turned around, and suddenly Derek found himself nearly nose to nose with his uncle.
He immediately hid his face in Peter’s chest, cheeks flaming. But he wasn’t immediately pushed away. He hoped that was a good sign.
“Why were you jealous of Stiles, Derek?”
Though his uncle still sounded a bit off, the barely hidden hostility was no longer there. The return of which probably depended on his answer.
But this was leading into dangerous territories. Because while Stiles did insinuate some things, they were just that. Insinuations. Not certainties. Nothing Derek could be sure about.
Derek was going to have to put whatever fragile relationship he still had with his uncle on the line if he wanted to try to mend what he had so very nearly broken.
And though Stiles had seemed weirdly optimistic - aside from being angry at him for hurting Peter - Derek wasn’t.
“I thought he and you were - you spent a lot of time together and I thought-”
Derek growled softly as he cut himself off, frustrated that the words he had practiced refused to come out right.
Right.
He was always better with actions than with words, also something Stiles often told him - and when did Stiles become his inner voice?
Here’s to hoping he wasn’t about to lose his uncle, and his spleen.
Pulling back a little from where he had still been hiding his face in Peter’s chest, Derek looked up at his uncle. Well, at least he no longer looked as frosty, but Peter hadn’t quite comprehended what Derek was hinting at either.
Probably because it was way out there, unless you were Stiles.
Before he could try and talk himself out of it, Derek tilted his head up so he could look at his uncle, before darting in and pressing a quick kiss to Peter’s lips.
He immediately went back to hiding his face against Peter’s chest after though, terrified of what was to come and wanting to get a few last moments of comfort from Peter.
It took a long while for Peter to finally react, frozen as he had been the second he realized just what Derek was about to do.
Finally though, finally he let his muscles relax again, becoming aware of how tightly he was still holding his - now completely terrified - nephew.
“Oh pup.” Peter ducked down a little to nuzzle the crown of Derek’s head, only to blink a little when Derek cocked his head to the side with a whine, displaying his neck.
Well. Derek was offering himself up so prettily, and now that Peter finally knew what was going on in Derek’s head, he wasn’t particularly up to denying obviously repricorated feelings.
“You should have just come to me, pup.” Peter said even as he pressed his mouth against the side of Derek’s throat, before pressing his teeth insistently against the thin skin and leaving pin prick marks behind.
A marking even Derek couldn’t mistake for anything else, and he went near boneless in Peter’s grip.
“I couldn’t.” Derek gripped the back of his t-shirt tightly, voice muffled. “I didn’t want you to hate me. Didn’t want to lose you. And I still did.”
“Almost.” Peter gently corrected. “And Stiles is going to hang that over us for the rest of eternity, but you didn’t lose me. I’m right here, Derek.”
While words were all good and well, Peter was still a pretty impatient man when he wasn’t looking to actively annoy someone. Unfurling one arm from where he had it wrapped around Derek - feeling a pang in his chest as Derek tightened his own arms in response - Peter reached so that he could lift Derek’s face.
Trying to look his nephew in the eye was futile, though he really hadn’t expected anything else.
And while he could reciprocate in the same manner as Derek, he really didn’t want to.
Using his strength and the fact that Derek wasn’t expecting any sudden movement to his advantage, Peter took a couple of steps forwards while simultaneously pushing Derek back.
Before Derek realized what was going on, he already had his back up against a wall with Peter pressed against him from knees up to the chest.
He barely had a second to blink, lips parted slightly in surprise, when Peter surged forward to take his lips in a bruising kiss.
A muffled huff of surprise escaped from his mouth, only to be swallowed up by Peter’s insistent kiss, before Derek managed to move his lips in response with a soft moan.
They managed to make it to a bed not too long later.
The couch would probably never recover.
----
Derek couldn’t be blamed for slamming the door on a cackling Stiles the next morning when the young man showed up with a cake which frosting read ‘ Congrats on the sex! ’.
“You were right.” Derek muttered even as he gingerly sat down besides his uncle, glowering even as a flush rose on his cheeks when Peter got a smug, proud look in his eyes at seeing the careful movements.
“I usually am, pup, but what about this time?”
Derek weakly swatted at Peter, but really his limbs were way too boneless after a night filled with emphatic not sleep . Yea, that blush was there to stay.
“Stiles. Being smug. There’s a congratulatory cake involved.”
Peter just blinked slowly at Derek, before casting a look at where Stiles was obviously picking the lock.
“More coffee?”
“ Please .”