Derek's Person

I Like How He Smells | 4

Laura was putting her clean laundry away, when she heard two sets of fast footsteps racing up the stairs.

"I'm gonna punch you, Stiles!" Jackson yelled.

She got up and hurried to her bedroom door, opening it just in time to see Stiles barge into Derek's room. The little boy practically flew as he leaped onto the bed and over the top of Derek, who was reading a comic book. Stiles frantically wrapped himself up in the blankets and buried his head into Derek's side in a poor attempt to hide.

Jackson sprinted in after him, but was immediately met with a loud snarl that sent him stumbling back out into the hallway as quickly as he entered. Derek's eyes shined bright gold, warning his cousin to back off before he shifted the rest of the way.

Laura scented the brief flash of jealousy that Jackson gave off, before it melted back into bitter anger. She didn't blame him—if she was honest, she was jealous and upset, too. Derek's favoritism towards Stiles was ridiculous. She was not only pack, but the Alpha Heir. If anyone should've been able to go into his room, it should've been her. Not Stiles.

Furthermore, Derek had just protected an outsider from a pack member, which was outrageous and infuriated Laura's inner wolf. He chose Stiles' side over pack. Over a pup.

"You can't hide in there forever," Jackson bitterly taunted Stiles, before stomping off to Cora's room further down the hall.

As soon as he was gone, Derek pulled Stiles out from behind him and looked down at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I didn't do anything! Jackson is just a meanie stupid head," Stiles told him. Derek's expression shifted to raise both of his eyebrows and Stiles let out an exaggerated sigh, before admitting, "I maybe ate his cookie...but he ate my candy one time!"

Derek rolled his eyes and flicked the younger boy's forehead. "Brat."

"Ow." Stiles frowned, rubbing the reddening skin. The pain seemed to only register for a moment, before he noticed the comic book in Derek's hands and scooted closer to him again. "What's that?"

"Book."

"Is that Spider-Man? " Stiles exclaimed, bouncing slightly in his excitement. "Can I see? Please?"

"No."

"But he's my favoritest superhero ever , Der!" Stiles whined.

"Me too, and I don't want you to rip it or something."

"I won't rip it," Stiles told him, his eyebrows furrowed and lower lip jutting out slightly. "I can be gentle. I love books—I'm always gentle with them. You can ask my mommy and daddy."

Derek groaned and leaned his head back against the wall for a few seconds, before asking, "Your hands clean?"

"Um," Stiles hummed, looking down at them. He wiped them down the front of his shirt and then held them out for Derek to see. "Yeah."

Laura's nose scrunched up in disgust, wondering if that's how Stiles thought cleaning his hands worked. She made a mental note to never take any food from the kid. To her surprise, she watched as Derek handed his comic book to him.

Stiles let out a high-pitched squeal and carefully set the book in his lap. He started flipping through the pages, looking at all of the drawings on each one.

"What do the words say?" Stiles asked, pointing to them.

"Not reading to you."

"Okay, I'll pretend." Stiles shrugged. "Spider-Man says, 'I'm gonna get you, lizard man!' And then the lizard man says, 'No you aren't! I'm evil and I'm gonna win!' and then Spider-Man says, 'Superheroes will win, so I will beat you!' "

Laura saw the hints of a smile twitch at the corners of Derek's lips as he watched Stiles, who was animatedly flailing his arms around to act out the scenes he was seeing in the book. One of his arms nearly smacked Derek in the face, but he caught his wrist before the collision.

"Oops, sorry," Stiles giggled, before kissing his palm and reaching out to press it against the cheek he almost hit. Derek immediately focused his attention on the book again, but Laura noticed that the smile had successfully taken over his features. Stiles seemed to notice, too, and used both hands to poke Derek's cheeks, which caused Derek to swat his hands away.

"Don't do that."

"I asked my mommy why you have dimples and she said it's because angels kissed your cheeks," Stiles informed him.

"So? Don't poke them."

"They feel funny."

Laura looked carefully at the places that Stiles had poked and realized that Derek really did have dimples. Since when? How had she never noticed that before? She figured it was probably because Derek's smiles around her were few and far between, and usually only lasted for a split second before he realized that he was smiling and stopped himself. She was always in too much shock at the uncharacteristic expression to even bother looking for dimples . Apparently, Stiles had seen them enough times that he had formed a habit of poking Derek in the face—which somehow didn't get his fingers bitten off.

She turned away from her brother's room and shut her bedroom door, extremely frustrated. Why did Derek act so differently around that stupid kid? Why didn't he laugh at any of Laura's jokes or spare a smile here and there when she did things for him, like cook or wash his laundry? She deserved to get responses other than glares, growls, and those damn eyebrow motions! She didn't get it—what the hell was so special about that human? Why would Derek treat him like that when he constantly acted so put-out around his own pack? How could he let Stiles in his bed and let him use his comic books—his prized possessions—but act so hostile towards Jackson?

It was wrong, and Laura was getting pretty sick of it.