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Derek was nine when he first stayed the night in the Stilinski household. Stiles was a few months past one year old.
He wasn't honestly sure how to act, he's never stayed the night anywhere but his own home. Minus the times his family went camping. His mom had dropped him off, walking him to the front porch, his backpack slung over his shoulder. When his mother knocks on the door, mostly just out of politeness because Claudia had probably heard their car pull up and already knew they were there, she turns to him and winks, telling him to mind John and Claudia and have fun with his husband. The word makes him flush and frown at the ground in what is a oh so definitely not a pout, remembering when he had said he wanted to marry the little one. He was barely awake when he had mumbled those words, but his mother still teased him about it. At least she didn't tell his sisters Laura and Cora. Or Peter.
He hopes nobody ever tells Peter.
The door suddenly opens and he races in like a man on a mission. Listening to the two other heartbeats in the house, he quickly knows which one is the one he's looking for. He runs up the stairs to the nursery, where he already hears sounds of babbling and gurgle noises before he can even open the door.
Stiles.
He grins, peeking inside the room at the occupied baby bed before trotting over to it. Stiles looks up at him when he comes into view, looking down at the small kit. The baby smiles in delight, cooing and kicks his feet, amber eyes twinkling. Derek drops his bag onto the carpet, long forgotten in favor of the person before him, and reaches a hand down to the small child. The kit wraps his fingers around Derek's, pinkie in one hand, thumb in the other. Then the older shifter watches as Stiles does what every baby does regardless of species, and sticks it in his mouth. Had it been any other baby, he would've pulled away in disgust and wipe his hand off. But all Derek does is smile like his hand isn't covered in drool and resting his other arm on the crib's frame, he lays the side of his head upon it. "Hi," he greets, tone gentle. Stiles, never having took his eyes away from him, slurs something like 'bobobobu' around the fingers. It may have made Derek's heart melt a bit, but if it did no one will know that.
"I'm staying the night." He continues nervously, like he needs the other's permission. "I'm staying the night with you." Stiles makes a happy noise in return, nibbling on Derek's three middle fingers. The wolf almost doesn't hear someone coming up the stairs. Their steps are calm and easy paced enough to be one of the mothers, but heavy enough to where he knows it's John.
"You're mom says goodbye and that she loves you." The man relays the information to him as he leans against the door frame instead of actually entering the room. He smiles knowing, bordering amusement, but it's all in good nature. Derek nods at him gratefully, but respectfully. He isn't afraid of John, nor is he unsure of him because he is human; some of his own family is non-weres even. It's just that despite the fact John isn't a shifter or another creature from lore, Derek feels the need to bare his neck and show he means no threat to the man's pack, like a beta and omega would to an alpha. Along another point, John Stilinski is also the town's sheriff. So Derek has the utmost respect for Claudia's husband, Stiles's dad, man of the law. He's just slightly cautious around him is all.
"He woke up from a nap as soon as your car pulled up, he's usually more fussy than this, but I guess he's just happy to see you." The older man teases, taking a few steps towards him and holding out his hand. "Here, I'll put your bag in the guest room. You know where that is right?" Derek reluctantly pulls away from Stiles, the baby not too happy about the loss either by the irritated noise he makes, to hand his backpack over with a nod. With a final smile and fond shake of his head John leaves them be after that. Sometimes, if Derek didn't know any better, he might think they think of him as family.
It's only a minute after John walks out before Claudia walks in. Derek thinks she's almost as beautiful as his own mother. She's got such a way about her, full of grace and life, fair skin and kept hair; beauty with a natural feel, the need for makeup is none existent but she makes whatever she wears work, surrounded by gentleness but not without a controlled edge if needed, and pretty honey eyes that resemble Stiles's. She smiles at him and he involuntarily feels a bit less nervous. "Hello sweetheart," she says, voice smooth like her words roll of her tongue without hesitation or difficulty. "He's hungry by now." She apprises, carefully picking her son up. Stiles makes an excited 'Ga!', happy to be held and the woman smiles down at the kit with a soft smile he sees his own mom give him and his siblings. Derek's about to awkwardly shuffle out of the room, leaving like he's intruding on a moment he shouldn't be a part of, when the vixen looks up at him and offers, "Would you like to feed him?"
Derek doesn't even think about it before nodding. Claudia motions him to sit down in the rocking chair by the widow and she gently hands over her son to him. He shouldn't be nervous, he's held babies before. He's family is huge, full of siblings and cousins, nieces and nephews. There's something about Stiles; however, that's different. He holds the kit as carefully as he can, as if his pale skin is glass, his brown hair is wish flowers in the wind, and his beautiful honey eyes is warm sand that could slip between his fingertips. The baby squeals in his arms, tiny fingers grabbing at his shirt's hem.
Mrs. Stilinksi hands him a bottle of warm milk and instructs him on how to feed the baby. "Be careful now." She would remind him, then chuckles and makes a comment on how Stiles has a stomach of a black hole. "I'll never know where he puts it all," She jokes. Derek snickers, staring down at the little thing as it tries to practically inhale the whole bottle.
After the kit finishes his meal, Derek gets to burp him as well, patting him on the back. After changing Stiles into a fresh blue onesie, she leaves the two be, letting them play together on the blanket cover floor. Derek watches as Stiles nibbles on a teddy bear's ear. The baby is finally old enough to sit up on his own. He remembers his mother telling him creatures like them; shifters, don't always show signs of being that of not human until they are well into toddler years, on rare occasions even longer. So maybe Stiles isn't even a kit, maybe he's just a baby. John's a human, so Stiles might be too. The thought doesn't lessen the way he feels for the little one, if anything it makes the urge to protect him even greater. Humans can be so much more fragile. Something inside Derek saddens when he realizes he won't be able to shift with Stiles or run, chase, and hunt in the woods together as fox and wolf if that is the case. But, Derek thinks as he watches Stiles bang the bear against the floor then look in bewilderment at it when it makes a squeaky noise, that it'll be okay.
If he has to play with the child in human form instead of as animals then it's still okay because he'll still be by Stiles's side. If he has to hunt alone, without Stiles, that it's still okay because he'll bring back whatever he catches to Stiles. He'll be good enough and protect Stiles from anything.
'It'll be okay,' he tells himself, leaning over and pecking the baby's forehead. Stiles looks up at him with the bear's arm in his mouth.
It'll be okay either way.