Chapter Text
So maybe going deep into Beacon Hills Preserve to track down some fairies with Derek wasn’t his best idea. Stiles stumbled over a tree root, clutching at Derek’s jacket as he fell forward, his face dangerously close to hitting the ground. Derek saved him, of course, grabbing onto the back of his sweater and yanking him back onto his feet. The angry-looking red line on his neck was the only reminder of his lack of coordination.
“Thanks, buddy. Next time, because let’s be honest there’ll be a next time, try to not strangle me to death while saving me, alright? Cool.” Stiles straightened out his sweatshirt and rubbed his neck, his eyes skimming over Derek’s face to land on his eye brows. One was raised up, like a flag signaling that it was dinner time.
“Next time, try not to kill yourself.” And with that, Derek lowered his flag and shoved his hands into his jacket. He began to move ahead, ignoring Stiles’ indignant squawk behind him.
“Wait up!” Stiles jogged forward, falling into step behind the newly turned Alpha. It had been a month since Jackson had shed his cocoon and turned into a frightening, leprechaun-channeling werewolf. Gerard was still missing, and no one had seen or heard of Erica and Boyd since that night. Personally, Stiles thought they ran off into the sunset to explore their newfound wolfyness together. Intimately. Many, many times, probably in many freaky animal positions.
“What exactly are we doing out here again? I know you said fairies but I honestly don’t see what the big deal about a bunch of fairies could be. I mean, they’re little insect eating butterflies, right? They just look like little bitty humans. Right, Derek?” Stiles turned to look at him, frowning as he saw the eyebrow go up again. It was becoming a bad habit of Stiles to secretly try to provoke the raising of the eyebrow. It was one of the few emotional responses he got from the Alpha- beyond the growling, teeth snapping, and roaring.
“Fairies don’t just fly around. They. Have. Magic. Which you would know if you had been listening.” Stiles choked as he was jerked backwards, feeling the tight grasp of Derek’s hand on his neck. He turned to face him, wincing at the snarl on the Alpha’s face.
“To be fair, we were in your abandoned subway station which, by the way, very cozy. And reminiscent of a murder scene. And I might just have nicked my finger on a rusty pipe, so I was worried about tetanus…” Stiles trailed off as Derek’s eyes began to glow. Now his eyebrows were flat and angry looking, one of his other specialties. He was an eyebrow connoisseur at this point.
“Shutting up now,” he meeped, reaching a hand back to gently stroke the claws currently pricking the skin of the back of his neck. Derek grunted and released him, striding forward again without a second look.
So this was a thing. A thing that he and Derek did when they were alone. It was a game Stiles lovingly dubbed, “101 Sure-fire Ways to Piss off Derek”. It certainly wasn’t his favorite game, but it was the one he found himself most likely to be playing (Stiles also secretly played 10 Sure-fire Ways to Calm Derek Down, which didn’t have as big of a success rate. He would, however, have to add finger nail stroking to the list).
He followed after Derek, flinging the hood of his sweater up and sighing. They had been in the forest for three hours now and the sun was beginning to set. One gaze up at the sky told him it was nearing 7:00 PM.
One hour later the sun had set, and there were still no fairies to be seen.
“Yo, Derek. Not that I’m not enjoying our hike together, because honestly who wouldn’t, but I felt I should point out there is a severe lack of fairies around.” Stiles walked into the back of him, bouncing off the solid wall of Derek’s muscles. He gagged at the taste of leather he had gotten into his mouth, silently praying that his jacket wasn’t covered in bunny guts.
“I beg to differ,” Derek growled, turning around and slapping Stiles upside the back of his head. He yelped as he bent his torso forward, rubbing at the back of his head.
“Did you just call me a fairy? Because whoa, it’s 2012 and that is not ok-“ Stiles stopped talking as he was jerked back up and pulled flush against Derek. His cheeks began to heat up as Derek’s hands came to rest on his cheeks, turning his head so he could see the dancing balls of light in the tree line. He let out a nervous laugh before slapping a hand against his mouth, not wanting to alert the fairies to their presence.
“Be quiet,” Derek whispered, his mouth almost resting against his right ear. “Fairies are dangerous when angered, and tend to only deal with virgins.” Stiles’ muscles seized up as the wave of embarrassment crashed over him. So that was the reason he was in the middle of the woods hunting fairies. Virgin. The big V. Might as well get it tattooed onto his forehead.
“I need you to go over there and convince them to grant a wish for you. Do not say “I wish” under any circumstances. Get them to agree, and come back over here. Give them this,” Derek opened one of Stiles’ palms and put a jar of ladybugs into his hand, “and hopefully they won’t get angry. Go” Derek pushed him forward, causing him to stumble slightly. He turned around and glared at him, only to see Derek smirking with his arms crossed against his chest.
Fucking werewolves.
Stiles sighed and held the jar in his hands as he walked over to the dancing lights. The closer he got the brighter they became, the colors shifting from white to blue to pink, rotating in some maniacal firework display. He froze as a fairy darted out and circled him, the buzz of its wings sending shivers down his back.
“A virgin,” It hissed, coming to hover in front of his face. “He has nummies!” It hissed in delight. The other fairies seemed to appreciate this, as the pitch from their wings increased for a second or two before returning to their original levels.
“Yup, that’s me. Stiles, the virgin. With nummies. Mmmm, nummies.” He crooned, his eyes darting back and forth between the fairies, as the rest came forward to circle around him.
“Remove that insufferable casing before I pluck out your eyeballs,” The first fairy hissed, lessening the glow of its light to show a tiny boy with butterfly wings. With a sword.
“What’s in it for me?” Stiles asked, his heart bouncing around his rib cage. He liked his eyes. His eyes were one of his defining features.
“Your eye sight,” The fairy sneered, leaping forward to slash at his cheek with his sword. Stiles yelped and brought his free hand up to slap into the cut. He whimpered as the fairies broke out into a hissing laughter.
“I’ll open it for a wish,” Stiles said. The fairies paused their laughter, and the boy in front of him stilled in the air and swept its violet eyes over him.
“Well, perhaps a wish,” It conceded, running its tongue over the shark like teeth in its mouth. “What would the virgin wish for?” it asked, batting its eyelashes.
“Uhm, well… give me a minute to go over-“ Stiles started, pointing at the cluster of trees where Derek’s red eyes hovered. The fairy sneered at him.
“No! Decide now! Or do you clear everything with that over-sized beast in the trees?” The boy placed one hand on his hip, waving the sword in Stiles’ face.
“Hey! He doesn’t tell me what to do!” Stiles frowned as the fairies laughed again. He jerked a bit as a purple bubble rose around them, separating them from the rest of the forest. “What is that?”
“For privacy,” The fairy hissed, eyes glinting. It came to a rest on top of the jar of lady bugs, sheathing its sword and staring up at Stiles.
“Privacy…” Stiles stammered. He gazed over his shoulder, seeing Derek raging against the barrier. He was banging his fists against it, his teeth elongated and claws sprouting from his hands. He couldn’t hear him, though.
“Uncivilized,” another fairy sniffed, its feminine voice close to Stiles ear. He felt a pressure on his shoulder and looked to see a girl sitting crossed leg on his shoulder, her wings fanning his neck.
“Do you think he was like that as a babe?” Another asked, causing Stiles to wince as it settled on his head. He felt it playing with his hair, and it was making him increasingly uneasy.
“Oh, I can see it now…” The fairy on the jar said, grabbing his stomach as his hissing laughter erupted from his mouth. “Little angry Alpha gnawing on a tree, waiting for his nummies.”
“That would be hilarious,” Stiles agreed, laughing a little as another fairy landed on his other shoulder.
“Do you think he would make a cute babe?” The new fairy was petting his ear-lobe as it spoke.
“Probably, yeah. I mean he’s hot now, I can only imagine how cute he looked as a kid,” Stiles said, his tone wavering as his vision became slightly unfocused. The fairy on the jar jumped into the air and hovered before his eyes, lurching forward to place his hands on either side of his nose.
“Do you wish to see him as a babe?” It asked, his eyes trained on Stiles, as if he was trying to search his soul.
“W-well, uh… I don’t-“ Stiles stammered, his eyes watering as his they tried to put the fairy in focus. He felt his muscles relax, a warmth spreading over him and settling around his brain.
“Do you wish him to be a babe?” It asked again, lightly stroking his nose.
“I-in exchange f-for-“ he stammered, swaying on his feet.
“Say you wish him to be a babe, and open the nummies, and it shall be,” It whispered lovingly as it stroked his nose.
“I wish… f-for, uh, Derek… uhhmm… Derek to be a, uh-“
“Babe,” The fairy crooned, petting him still.
“Babe.” Stiles said, nodding his head as his fingers twisted the top off the jar.
“DONE!” The fairy crowed, as a flash of magic reverberated off of Stiles, crashing into the barrier and making it fall. The fairies zoomed around the jar, catching the ladybugs as they tried to escape, ripping their wings off with their hands and feasting on their heads.
“Uh…” Stiles stammered as his vision came into focus, the cold night air slapping against his skin. He looked down at his hands and then over his shoulder, looking towards where Derek had been.
He dropped the jar when he heard the cry of a kid, causing him to whirl around to rest his eyes on the struggling bump underneath Derek’s clothes. The fairies hissed as the jar bounced on the ground, but Stiles ignored them as he dropped to his knees. There, emerging from Derek’s jeans was a toddler, no older than 2. It was unmistakably Derek, and he was very, very naked. And very, very angry.
Stiles snatched him into his arms, clutching him to his chest as Derek struggled against him, growling and biting at his shirt. Stiles grabbed the leather jacket from the ground and wrapped the toddler in it, tying the arms around his waist to keep it on. He gave a startled laugh as he took in the sight.
There was Derek, Mr. Alpha himself, two years old and wearing nothing but a jacket. His green eyes were narrowed as tears fell down his face. He snarled at Stiles, trying to bite his finger as he tried to pick him up again.
“Bad Derek! No biting!” Stiles admonished, scooping Derek up into his lap. He used his hands to cover his ears as he focused on the fairies. “What the hell did you do? This isn’t what I wanted! I didn’t wish for this!” The first fairy zipped into his eyes sight, holding the half eaten carcass of a ladybug.
“Yesss, this is your wish. You wished for the wolf to be a babe, and it is so.” The fairy took a large bite out of the bug, chomping on it as he stared at Stiles.
“You tricked me!” The fairy laughed at him pieces of bug spraying from his mouth.
“Is it permanent?!” He cried, watching the fairy back away.
“It will wear off… eventually.” And with that, the fairies disappeared, leaving nothing but the empty jar and a squirming toddle gnawing on his forearm.
“Damn,” He whispered, wincing slightly as Derek flung his head back into his chest.
“Bad word!” He screeched, twisting his body around to glare at Stiles. “Bad!” He said, thumping Stiles on the chest. Stiles stared down at him, his eyes wide. Derek growled again before launching himself at his chest, running his teeth over his t-shirt.
“Oh God,” He whimpered, staring up at the moon, the sensation of a two year old werewolf gnawing on his nipples causing his innards to shrivel. “Why me?”
It took Stiles three hours to drag Derek out of the woods. Actually having to pay attention was draining. Not only did he have to keep a squirming Derek in his arms he also had to make sure not to trip and squish him. On the upside, not having to go slow made things quicker.
Seeing the glint of his blue jeep was an out of body experience. Stiles let out a whimper as he stumbled over to it. The sky was pith black, nothing but the moon and stars guiding him back. Derek had fallen asleep three hours ago, and Stiles was certain in that time he had been peed on. He fished for his keys, dragging them out of his pocket and unlocking the driver’s side door.
Stiles put on the seatbelt and cradled Derek in one arm as he turned the jeep on. He flicked the headlights on and sighed as he put the jeep into drive. No child’s seat, no safety, laws be damned. It was 11PM and he was tired. Stiles still drove 15mph, because really, now would not be the time to drive into a ditch.
Pulling up to his driveway and being able to turn the jeep off was glorious. HE stumbled out of the cockpit, slamming the door shut with his butt. He hoisted Derek over his shoulder, hearing the little tyke snore. He was drooling into the side of his neck, and Stiles was torn between crying and cooing.
The walk to the front door was terrifying, almost as scary as the door swinging open as he was about to put his key in the lock. His dad stood there with his shot gun on one shoulder, his eyes narrowed at him.
“Stiles. It’s 11 at night. Where were you? Why didn’t you answer your phone?” His dad raked his eyes over his form and Stiles had to hold in a laugh as they bugged out of his father’s face. “Is that a baby?! Why is it naked?”
“Dad, it’s been a long night. Please, I need to sleep.” Stiles fell forward and clutched at his dad with his free arm, laying his head against his chest. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he mumbled. His father looked down at his son, his gaze switching between him and the snoring toddler.
“Try me,” he said, backing into the house and dragging his son in, leaning the gun against the wall before locking the door.
“Derek and I were in the woods, and he made me give nummies to the fairies in exchange for a wish, but they tricked me and turned him into a baby,” He mumbled into his dad’s shirt. John Stilinski mulled his son’s words over in his head.
“You’re right. Go get some sleep; we’ll talk in the morning.” John helped his son up the stairs, steering him into his bedroom. Stiles placed Derek on the bed and took off the jacket, scrunching his nose up at the smell of urine.
“I’ll get a washcloth, you should change your clothes and get that pathetic Spiderman shirt you keep in your underwear drawer for the kid.” John said, backing out of the room.
“His name is Derek! And it isn’t pathetic, it’s a collectible! I’ve had it since I was three! It has sentimental value!” Stiles whined, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it into the hamper with Derek’s jacket.
The sound of running water and his father’s eventual footsteps were a welcomed relief to Stiles. He wiped Derek down, pausing as he came to his penis.
“D-dad… uh, what do I do with that?” He asked, gesturing to Derek’s very uncircumcised junk. John swiped a hand over his face and sighed.
“You’re the one who wrote a paper on the history of male circumcision. Shouldn’t you know how to clean a penis with a foreskin?” His father sounded irritated. Stiles winced.
“But that was just in theory. I don’t-“ Stiles stuttered, waving the washcloth in the air.
“Stiles, just wipe him down and put the damn shirt on him! Go to bed!” His dad exited the room, closing the door behind him. Stiles stared down at Derek, horror on his face.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” he whined as he finished cleaning Derek. He struggled to get the shirt on him, finding it not as easy as dressing himself. Of course. The t-shirt was a few sizes too big for Derek. Stiles had been a chunky baby, and Derek was very slender and toned. It fell past his knees, barely brushing his toes.
Stiles yawned and flung the rest of his clothes at the hamper, wiping his chest quickly with the cloth before changing into a pair of boxers and a shirt. He situated Derek and himself under the covers and snuggled into him.
“Night, Sourwolf,” He yawned, closing his eyes. Feeling Derek's baby hands clutch at his shirt as he snuffled into his chest didn't make his heart clench. Not one bit.