What the hell is a Stiles? (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} _stiles) wrote, |
He eyed their breakfast closer as Derek approached, his stomach giving an appreciative rumble. “We have been, Yeah,” he agreed, inching over on the bed to make room. Like Derek, he knew they’d be burning off plenty more over the weekend.
Stiles paused with some fruit halfway to his mouth when Derek mentioned Deaton. “Yeah, I called dad. He wanted to see. First time I saw it too,” he said quietly, a happy blush colouring his cheeks. “He approved. I think he thought it was a bit soon but he knows we’re not going to change our minds.” He looked at the pill, remembering the feeling last night that had almost brought him to tears. Twice. He didn’t feel it now, though. Maybe it was just a preliminary side effect of his pill.
Stiles lifted his eyes and looked at Derek for a long moment. He thought they could be pregnant now. Of course there was a chance, but Derek had actually checked with Deaton. He tipped his head gently as Derek leant over to kiss his shoulder and neck, reaching up a hand to run his fingers through Derek’s hair.
“I’m going to do my best,” Stiles whispered. He didn’t have any doubt about his fertility before. Deaton has made them take extra precautions, but there was still that tiny nagging feeling that maybe he couldn’t. Maybe that was a side effect too. His body knew he should be pregnant now, and he wasn’t. “Are you going to kiss me and reassure me every time I’m stupidly worried I’m not pregnant, even though we’re both trying to actively prevent it?” He asked, forcing out a laugh, leaning in to Derek’s side.
“I love you,” Stiles said quietly. “Thank you. For calling him.” He knew, just as Deaton did, just as Derek no doubt did, that not all alphas would do that for their mates.
They had a bit of time between breakfast and Scott arriving, a little bit of which was spent getting dressed and making sure the sofa wasn’t too incriminating (and searching for smears of slchocolate from the cake that had been discarded the night before) and maybe airring our then loft slightly out of politeness. But in the remaining time Stiles wanted nothing but Derek, unsurprisingly. There wasn’t time for them to do anything intimate and naked, but Stiles happily arranged his mates body on the sofa and lay himself comfortably on top of him, legs tangled, his head on Derek’s chest, listening to his heart beating.