Out Of Milk

19

Three days made everything better. Three days of staying away from School and his dad and his life – made everything so much better.

He spent his nights on the floor of the great room with Derek and the pack, wrapped up in the warm, familiar bodies and smells that calmed and steadied him, spent his days trailing Derek and helping with stupid tasks like making the decorators coffee and stealing kisses when no one was looking. It was as though someone had reached into his life and hit the pause button – no one talked about the fire, or how Derek had flipped out so much his Betas needed to shoot him with tranquilisers to keep him calm. No one talked about how Stiles just moved in, how Derek had apparently turned into a snuggle bunny overnight or how it was now perfectly okay to climb all over their Alpha – because it just felt so normal.

But Stiles knew it wasn't going to last, knew that his dad would show up eventually, knew he'd have to go back to school because aside from the kisses (which were so very, very nice) he was starting to get bored out of his wits. Derek could tell, Stiles knew, because he would find excuses to give Stiles stupid jobs that anyone could do – like make crappy coffee for the decorators, and insisting he was the only one who could do it right. Stiles knew that Derek was trying to keep him there. Keep him safe. Three days.

They were sprawled over the massive leather couch – the only one Derek could find that would easily sit ten people who had a nasty habit of wriggling and clambering over each other – watching TV on the biggest screen Stiles had ever seen in his life, when the police cruiser pulled up. The glass walls didn't hide much, so Stiles knew that his dad could see them just as clearly as they could see him. How Derek managed to untangle himself from Stiles, Isaac and Erica without all of them tumbling to the soft carpet, Stiles had no idea – but by the time his dad had reached the doors, Derek was pulling them open. Stiles didn't need to be a wolf to smell the disappointment radiating around him –Isaac was gripping his arm too hard and Erica was giving him a watery gaze, hell, even Jackson was pouting.

"I've come to collect Stiles." Was all his dad said, and the mass groan that came from the teenagers around him made him want to cry. If his dad heard it (and how could he not?) he didn't let on.

"Yessir." Derek said, stepping back. "I'll get his stuff." He paused. "You're welcome to come inside."

Stiles thought his father would decline the offer, stand on the porch and distance himself from whatever 'freaks' were inside, but when he stepped over the threshold, Stiles actually felt like he could breathe for the first time since he'd seen the car pull up.

"Not what I was expecting." His dad said, looking about. Stiles wondered if he was expecting giant posters of PeodoBear and solo cups scattered all over the place. He looked over at them, sprawling over the sofa – his eyes widened slightly.

"Jackson? I thought you had a restraining order on out on my boy?" He paused. "and Scott too." Stiles fought back the urge to smirk at Jackson, who was at that point, wrapped around Scott and laying half on Boyd. His face blanked.

"I dropped it."

"You might want to inform the police of that." His dad said, frowning. "and your father – who is not aware of you having dropped anything by the conversation we had this morning."

"Whatever." Jackson huffed, which earned him a punch from all three people he was currently connected to. "Fine!" he snapped, pulling out his phone. "I'm doing it." He slid off the sofa, dialling and walking into the kitchen.