Adopting Erica: Sterek

I don't Stiles, Derek or Erica or anything else Teen Wolf related!

Enjoy!

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It had taken almost a year for Stiles to convince Derek to adopt. And he really had to beg him. It had always been ‘No Stiles, we don’t know how to handle children’ or ‘It’s too dangerous’ or just plain no. But finally, after months of arguing, he broke down and the next day Stiles was calling up the adoption agency in their town. The next week they had a homestudy evaluation, which involved a lot of cleaning, and after that there was an agonizing three week wait for their fate. On the Friday that marked the three weeks after the evaluation Stiles went to check the mail. When he saw the letter from the Beacon Hills adoption agency he sprinted into the kitchen with the envelope clutched in his hand, the rest of the mail forgotten in the mailbox in his haste. Derek stared at it wide eyed from his seat at the kitchen table.

                “Open it.” He demanded. Even though he was uncertain about being a parent, Stiles knew he wanted to know the results as badly as he did. Stiles slit it open eagerly with his finger and scanned the page. After a minute he smiled and he heard Derek let out the breath that he’d been holding. Stiles looked at Derek and nodded, tears flooding his brown eyes. Derek stood up from his seat and hugged Stiles tightly, kissing his forehead.

                “We’re going to be Dads Derek.” Stiles muttered into his shoulder. He looked up at the Alpha and knew that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea yet, he saw it in his eyes. But he was going with it either way and Stiles knew it was because, 1. He wanted to shut him up and 2. Because deep down Derek really wanted this and Stiles pushing him to do it was the only way he would.

 Stiles lay in bed that night talking about the child they were going to adopt while Derek listened to him ramble. He was good at rambling, Stiles was, and Derek never bothered to shut him up unless he got super annoying.

                “Derek?” He asked after a silence had fallen, he’d run out of things to say.

                “Hm?” Derek grunted, his stubble tickling Stiles’ neck as he moved his head. 

                “Do you really want to do this?” Stiles asked, there was a pause and Stiles began to worry, not caring that Derek could sense his heartbeat rise or that he might have a panic attack or his asthma would strike.

                “Yes Stiles,” Derek said after a minute, “I do.” Stiles calmed a little as he pulled the blanket up a little more.

                “Ok,” Stiles said, that was all he could think to say, he didn’t want to pry. He didn’t want him to change his mind because Stiles asked him if he was sure, even though he was dying to.

                “I’m sure Stiles.” Derek mumbled in his half-asleep haze. Stiles calmed down instantly then, his mind relaxing and his heartbeat slowing. He rolled over to look at his husband, asleep already, his hands wrapped loosely around Stiles’ waist. He looked a lot calmer in his sleep, when a permanent scowl didn’t reside on his face. Stiles leaned forward and kissed him on his forehead before drifting to sleep himself, the excitement of the approval still faintly running through his system.

                One week later they paid a visit to the Beacon Hills Orphanage, where they were escorted by a nice lady with a very organized office to the playground where all the kids were. Most were young, 3 to 4 years old, with a few assorted older kids here and there. The babies were on the side in their carriers, being watched by some workers. Stiles and Derek looked around the playground while the lady pointed out some children.