Archive of Our Own ^beta

Stiles was trying to put on a resting bitch face completed with a scowl that probably wouldn’t intimidate a three-year-old child, while being bounded wooden chair.

Derek was wearing a slightly amused look on his face with his arms crossed, clearly enjoying the view.

“Don’t even,” Stiles said, not happy that Derek found the whole situation amusing, “It’s not funny, you scarred the poor mailman to a point where he won’t deliver the mail to the house. Dude’s really close to retirement and doesn’t need a heart attack to ruin it.”

“I told you we needed to talk.”

“How about we talk about the fact that you need to stop leaving dead things in the mailbox?”

“Well, if you had let me talk, in the first place I needed to, that wouldn’t be happening.”

“So what? Your wolf decided that leaving dead things was the best way to get my attention?” Derek gave an eyebrow raise because Stiles knew just how Derek’s animalistic side could get if Stiles wasn’t given Derek the attention that was needed. Stiles groaned with frustration, “I’m sorry if I made it feel like you couldn’t talk to me.”

“Are you being sarcastic right now?” Derek questions with a head tilt, “I can never tell with you.”

“It’s about to be natural occurrence in your life.” Stiles answers, “You should start getting used to it.”

“Yeah about that…”

“What?” Stiles questions, suddenly a bit frightened, “You’re not backing out on me, are you? Cause if so, the moment I get out of this-”

“Stiles, that is not it.” Derek interrupts, before Stiles could finish whatever threat was going to said, “I didn’t tell Erica, Boyd, or Isaac about you.” 

The look on Stiles’ face changed from shock to completely and utterly offended, “They don’t know about me?” Stiles not even hiding the offensive tone, “What am I, the illegitimate child you had with your high school sweetheart when you told your wife you were on a business trip?”

“I think you’re being slightly dramatic.”

“Oh ho!” Stiles chuckled angrily, “I’ll show you dramatic.”

Derek cracked a smile at the empty threat, “Ten years from now, this would probably be hilarious.”

“Oh yes.” Stiles agrees in a condescending tone, “Ten years from now we can tell everyone how you were too much of a chicken to tell your three musketeers about me and how we, once again, have to push back-”

“You’re being dramatic again.” Derek interrupts.

Stiles tried to wiggle out of the chair, “I am your-”

The sound of the door rang prevented Stiles from whatever was about to be said next, “Anyone home?!?!” A voice called from the outside.

At the recognition of the voice, Derek’s face turned into a mild form of panic, while it was now Stiles’ turn to be amused, “The heavens are bleeding, and the sun is scouring-” Stiles monologues in a dry tone, “I believe my future sister in law might’ve made an unannounced visit to my front door.”