Chapter Text
After a couple of months of Derek rooming at the Stilinski household, the awkwardness of having a house-guest had mostly ended. The three men moved around each other easily, comfortable in knowing who was doing what task and where they were as dinner was made and they all sat down to eat.
Stiles laid into his food as if he was sure it was going to disappear shortly. Derek rolled his eyes at the behavior, but nudged a glass of water closer to Stiles arm in preparation for the inevitable moment where the Sheriff would say something and Stiles would almost choke while trying to talk and swallow at the same time.
"So we leave for Iowa in the morning. Are you all packed?"
"Mphfgh!" Bits of casserole littered the table as Stiles sputtered and choked, grabbing the glass of water and taking a deep swallow. "What?!"
Sheriff Stilinski shook his head, sharing an amused glance with Derek. "Iowa, son. The land of our forefathers. Where we travel once a year to visit family?"
"Is that happening already?" Stiles tilted his head and then his whole body to try and see the calendar on the kitchen wall. Tipping slightly, he felt Derek reach out and steady his chair and he looked up at the man with wide eyes. "Derek! Dad, we can't go right now! Who will stay with Derek?
"Stiles." Derek rolled his eyes. "I don't need someone to stay with me."
"Yes you do!" Stiles pointed at him. "Why else would Dad always say, 'keep an eye on him' every time he leaves the house?"
"I wasn't talking to you, Stiles." John said with a laugh. "In fact, I'm sure Derek will enjoy having sometime by himself over the next week."
Derek looked up at the Sheriff warily. "A week? Do you...would you like me to clear out?"
"No!"
"Of course not!" John and Stiles spoke simultaneously and the Sheriff shook his head. "Derek, I told you before, we're more than happy to have you stay as long as you like. Consider this place your home."
Stiles watched as Derek managed to look both grateful and uncomfortable at the same time, winding up somewhere in the facial expression of constipated. Deciding to step in, he launched into a long list of things Derek should do or not do while they were off on vacation.
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"We hates mornings, precious. We hates them." Stiles whimpered as he collapsed on his suitcase in the hallway. His dad had woken him up just before 3AM so they could get on the road for an early start and despite the promise of a rarely allowed cup of coffee, Stiles wasn't sure he could go any further.
"Up and at 'em, kiddo." John said as he stepped over his son's body in the hallway, heading for the stairs. "In the car in 5 minutes."
"Leave me here to die." Stiles moaned, flopping his arm in the air. "I'm going to-aaaaah!"
With a yelp, Stiles found himself flying through the air and tipped upside down as Derek tossed him into a fireman's carry. Derek bent down to grab the suitcase as well and then headed downstairs, ignoring the indignant yelling from the teen over his shoulder.
"Dad! Help!" Stiles called as Derek carried him past the Sheriff. "Aren't you going to do something?"
"Of course, Stiles." John moved forward in front of the pair and opened the door, waving Derek past.
"Very funny." Stiles glared from his upside down position. "I see how it is. Teaming up against me! I'll have you know that Team Stiles is the best team!"
"There is no Team Stiles." Derek said, dropping the suitcase and then putting Stiles down next to the car. He held onto him for a moment as the boy wobbled.
"There is too a team." Stiles said, poking Derek in the chest.
"Just who is on your team?"
"Me. Scott." Stiles paused for a moment. "Lydia?"
"Son, even I know that Lydia has her own team." John said, closing the trunk and coming around the car. "Now say goodbye to Derek and hop in. We're wasting daylight."
"Daylight?" Stiles blinked at his father. "What daylight? The sun hasn't even- you know what, forget it. You've obviously have reached the age where dementia has set in. I'm glad we've got GPS or we would have no hope of reaching Iowa."
John rolled his eyes at his son and reached out to clasp Derek on the shoulder. "Have a good time this week. Relax. Enjoy the peace and quiet."
"Again with the funny jokes." Stiles said, watching his father get into the car. "You should really be on my team!" Turning back to Derek, he all of a sudden felt awkward. "Um...well-"
"Keep out of trouble." Derek said sternly. "Iowa is too far away for me to come save you from whoever you might piss off."
"Right back atcha, Sourwolf." Stiles frowned. "Don't forget to go for walks and don't chase rabbits-"
"No dog jokes." Derek pulled him into a brief hug, and then pushed him towards the car. "See you in a week, Stiles!"
Stiles waited till they were almost out of the driveway before leaning half out of the window. "Don't shed on the furniture, Sourwolf!"
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