Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Stiles signs up to help out Deaton at the vet clinic, it’s not because it’s something he wanted to do. He’s pretty happy to leave all the animal care -- werewolf life or death emergencies included -- to Scotty, but there’s absolutely nothing else he can do. It’s not a paid job either, since Deaton can’t really afford an official assistant now that Scott’s been promoted to an official apprentice and his wages had to reflect that.

At first, Stiles needed something to boost his college applications though, and filing at the Sheriff’s station wasn’t going to cut it. With Beacon Hills being as small as it is, and all other possible volunteering options being at least a town over, Stiles settled for cleaning cages and checking stock levels at the clinic. Sure, he had the one offer to be a volunteer at the hospital, but that was something he rejected all too eagerly.

“You know the place so well already,” Melissa pointed out when she mentioned that they’re short on candy stripers.

That was exactly why Stiles shied away. He had spent way too much time there for his liking, had too many bad memories. Not that the vet clinic was the most pleasant of places when it came to that, but those memories were related to more recent events, and not to his Mom.

Plus, the vet clinic has an arrangement with the local shelter, and a week into his volunteering, Deaton puts a good word in so Stiles gets a few hours a week of helping out there too. It’s barely different from the clinic -- he cleans cages, runs inventory, and brings animals to and from Deaton a few times.

It’s on those runs that he discovers a soft spot for the littlest animals, the puppies and kittens that Deaton helps deliver and the shelter takes in with the mothers. Stiles can’t help but grin happily when he hears the little yelps and whines, laughs when he brings ones slightly older and they try to meow loudly or bark. The first time he gets to hold and feed a litter of puppies, he comes home and rambles about it all through dinner.

Stiles lives with Derek, kind of. It’s not something they planned or discussed, but Derek’s apartment is closer to both the high school and the shelter. And once Stiles turned eighteen, his Dad only protested a tiny amount -- Stiles still doesn’t entirely trust it, and wonders if there are extra patrols driving past. He also expected more of a protest when he told his Dad about dating Derek, but he only got a soft smile.

“He’s a good man,” John said to Stiles’ surprise. “You boys be good to each other. And please for the love of everything holy, be careful.”

Stiles didn’t push the topic after that, wary of any attempt on a safe sex talk and the intricacies of werewolf healing that he really didn’t want to discuss with his father. With only a short time left until the end of his senior year, even with acceptance letters arriving for Stiles at home, he’s not keen on changing the current status quo. He goes to school, he volunteers, and then he comes back home to Derek. Together, they meet the Sheriff at least once a week for dinner. For the first time in a long time, things in town are mostly peaceful, and Stiles doesn’t let himself think of how going to college will change that. When he graduates, Derek is standing right there with John, a wide smile on his face that matches John’s, and Stiles beams at them both before he fakes relief with theatrical exaggeration.

Even when he gets accepted into college, Stiles stays with the clinic and the shelter, because he’s enjoying it all far more than he thought he would. He gets to help with the animals more, and Deaton mentions that he has a talent for working with them. Nadia, the shelter owner says the same, telling Stiles that he has a knack for helping the animals relax when they’re stressed and scared.

Stiles doesn’t explain -- Deaton probably knows anyway -- that it’s likely thanks to the experience he’s had with the pack and their injuries. He doesn’t mention how he held Erica when she was poisoned, or how he helped Derek after the wolfsbane bullet.

And when he ends up bonding with a komodo dragon, he definitely doesn’t mention how it was possibly Jackson’s Kanima phase that got Stiles used to all things scaly. At least he doesn’t mention it at the shelter, but Derek actually laughs when Stiles talks about it after his shifts.

“Jackson would be proud,” Derek says between chuckles.

“Like he needs encouragement,” Stiles replies, rolling his eyes. “I’m not going to boost his ego in any way.”

“Well, the pack has given you more animal experience than you’d have had otherwise,” Derek says. “At least you’re not going to get a wolf in.”

“Still no wolves in California. I’ve heard about mountain lion issues, though.” he adds, and watches as Derek cringes.

There was a pack south of Los Angeles that went a little off the rails during Stiles’ senior year, and Derek ended up in the middle of it all. It was how he came back to Beacon Hills -- just stopping by since he was in the state, officially. That was months ago, and he’s shown no sign of leaving, especially after he and Stiles finally got together. Stiles isn’t sure what will happen when he leaves for college, but in the summer, he refuses to think about it too much. Even as the summer draws to a close, Stiles tries to not think about it, and avoids any possibility of a conversation that might lead to Derek telling him that what they have is only until Stiles leaves.

At the same time, he also tries to dodge any talk about where he’s living. Sure, he has a ton of his things at Derek’s place, he refers to it as home, but they never discussed whether it actually was. After all, it’s not like he has a key to the place or his name on the lease -- he’s not even sure if Derek’s renting or if he bought the apartment.

He’s been slowly gathering things he’s going to need in college when the dog gets brought to the shelter. Well, she’s left at Deaton’s at first, her leg broken and her weight well below what it should be for a dog her age. Deaton estimates that she’s about a year old, still young but not looking puppyish anymore, and that she’s been out on her own for at least a month. She’s clearly been managing to forage for herself, but it hasn’t been healthy or really enough, and Stiles’ heart clenches when he gently lifts her onto the examination table.

She lets out a whine, but then licks Stiles’ hand when he sets her down. He doesn’t stay for the surgery, but he’s back almost immediately after, waiting her out until she wakes up from anesthesia. She’s heading for the shelter, Stiles knows that, because she has no microchip or collar, and they can’t find any sign of someone looking for her. That alone makes Stiles suspicious, and added to that is the fact that she seems to have wolf-like features.

“No, she’s not a were,” Scott tells him when Stiles asks.

“She looks like…” Stiles starts, but Scott is already shaking his head.

“She’s a wolfdog,” Deaton tells them both, emerging from the back room.

“A what?”

“Czechoslovakian wolfdog,” Deaton says. “Probably not a purebreed, since we’d definitely know about her going missing, but close enough.”

“So, she’s part wolf,” Stiles says.

“Yes, she has some wolf blood in her, though probably only remnants from her ancestors. She’s unlikely to be a direct cross with a wolf,” Deaton says, and walks right out of the room, leaving the conversation.

“Are you sure…?” Stiles starts again as he looks back to Scott.

“Yes,” Scott answers simply.

It’s barely two weeks later -- Stiles spends most of them in the shelter, with the dog whom he’s secretly calling Clawd -- when college orientation hits in full force and Stiles drives his packed Jeep to Berkeley.

He barely has time to check in at home during the first semester as he acclimates to the pace of college lectures and classes. For the first time he’s away from his Dad, away from Scott, and away from Beacon Hills. It’s the last part that he thought would be the easiest, but it turns out that he has more strings binding him to the place than he expected to. One of them, of course, is Derek. They didn’t break up or have a talk about their relationship before Stiles left, but he doesn’t even try dating. On one hand it’s not like he’d have time with his course load, on the other he doesn’t meet anyone who’d measure up to Derek anyway.

It’s Christmas before he can even think about going home -- his Dad comes over for Thanksgiving, since they have some extended family in the area apparently, and they get invited once the aunt who lives there finds out about Stiles’ college choice. When Stiles gets to Beacon Hills a few days before Christmas Eve, he drives straight to his Dad’s house and leaves all his things there. Then he gets roped into a spiral of dinners and drinks and nights out with the pack members who were just as busy as him with their college studies. He only sees Derek in group settings, and that tells him nothing about where their relationship is.

Even before, the summer when they spent almost all Stiles’ free time together, they were never advertising to others how close they were. So when he gets a welcome hug from Derek at the first pre-Christmas party, it’s no different to the welcome he gets from Erica or -- to his surprise -- Jackson.

“Hey, Dad, I’m gonna drive out to the shelter, okay?” Stiles tells the Sheriff on Christmas Eve.

He doesn’t wait for a response, already rushing out the door and to the Jeep. It’s not a long drive, but it still gives him time to muse over what he’s hoping to find once he gets there. On one hand he knows he’d want Clawd to have a steady home already, on the other he’d love to see her again. With college as busy as it was, he only managed to check in with the shelter in the first few weeks, and then it was pushed aside for more pressing matters.

The shelter feels the same as before he left when he walks in a while later, and it makes Stiles smile. He greets the receptionist and gets waved in without question since she worked there in the summer too. The back of the shelter is buzzing with the usual activity that he knows from his time volunteering there, staff going about their daily duties. Stiles looks around at the animals, noting which ones are new and which ones he remembers from the summer -- he’s glad to see that the latter category is much smaller, and that there aren’t all that many new ones either.

“Hey, it’s little Stilinski,” Nadia’s familiar voice rings across the pens.

She’s in front of him before he can respond, and wraps him in a hug.

“How’s college treating you, kid? Did you manage to find a local shelter to bond with puppies yet?”

“I would, if the professors thought that we have needs , like eating or sleeping or getting cuddles from furry creatures,” Stiles shoots back, grinning.

“So, no new men in your life either?” Nadia asks, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Oh hush you,” Stiles says, a blush creeping into his face.

“She’s not here, you know?” Nadia says then, without preamble. “We’ve been lucky, a lot of the ones you saw in the summer have found homes over the last few months.”

“That’s… that’s great,” Stiles replies, his voice doing nothing to hide the little sting that he feels at the knowledge that he’s not going to see Clawd.

“It is,” Nadia says with sympathy. “Now come on, let me show you the litter that was born just last week. They’re like pygmy puffs, only not pink.”

He lets her pull him towards the space at the back where he knows the shelter houses the smallest ones, in more secluded and quiet corners. It lifts his mood to see the new puppies, but when he drives home his mind still lingers on Clawd and on what kind of a home she may have found.

The Sheriff is working the night shift, and he’s gone before Stiles gets back, so the rest of Christmas Eve is quiet. The rest of the pack is busy with family visits that they know they won’t be able to fit in after, so Stiles doesn’t have anyone to call and keep him company. Even Cora is in town, so he knows not to disturb Derek, because he knows that she doesn’t visit all that much these days.

When he gets up on Christmas Day the sun is barely rising, but there’s noise downstairs that makes him alert immediately. He doesn’t usually wake to his Dad coming home from the night shift, but there is movement in the kitchen and living room that sounds like more than just the Sheriff. Stiles walks slowly down the stairs, wondering if there was a pack present exchange that he wasn’t informed of. However, when he gets to the kitchen, there are only two people at the table.

“I’m going to take a shower,” his Dad says when he sees Stiles in the door. “Then breakfast and presents, and then I’m going to sleep until dinner.”

“Okay,” Stiles says, eyes on Derek who has his hands wrapped around a cup that he’s staring into.

The Sheriff glances between them, sighs like he’s tired of dealing with them both, and claps Stiles on the shoulder as he walks past.

“Talk,” he says, and Stiles sees how Derek’s fingers twitch around the cup.

For a while there’s no noise besides the heavy steps as the Sheriff walks up the staircase. Stiles doesn’t move, and neither does Derek, both of them staying in place until the bathroom door slams closed upstairs.

“I didn’t expect you here,” Stiles whispers, still in the door.

“I’m sorry,” Derek finally looks up from the cup. “I just… I was working with your Dad last night and he asked me to breakfast.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing to see you,” Stiles says with a small smile. “Just not what I expected to wake up to.”

“I figured, since you didn’t come over when you got into town,” Derek says.

Stiles can hear the hurt in Derek’s voice despite the attempt to keep his tone light. But they’ve always been good at that, reading each other.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to,” he admits. “It’s been months.”

“Exactly,” Derek tells him. “I mean, I know you were just staying over before because it was convenient, but…”

“Wait, what?” Stiles interrupts, eyes wide open.

“It’s not like you ever wanted to talk about it,” Derek tells him with a huff. “I was going to ask you, but then you left for college, and…”

“You were going to ask me what?” Stiles asks, and he reminds himself to breathe.

Derek gets up from the chair and digs a hand into his pocket. When he pulls it out, there’s a small box in it, wrapped in paper that has reindeer on it, a squashed little bow on top. He walks over to Stiles, who looks up from the box that is on top of Derek’s palm between them.

“Merry Christmas,” Derek says, his voice shaky.

Stiles takes the box carefully, and tugs on the edge of the paper, taking it off easily. Inside is a plain cardboard box that he opens, and then he stares at the key that’s on the bottom.

“Are you asking me to…”

“Move in with me?” Derek finishes the question, and when Stiles looks up from the key, Derek’s not looking at him.

“I… yes ,” Stiles says, and he throws his arms around Derek and wraps him in a hug.

“Oh thank god,” Derek says as he breathes out.

“You’re an idiot,” Stiles tells him when he pulls away. “I would’ve said yes in the summer, you know?”

“I didn’t,” Derek says. “You were avoiding talking about it, so…”

He pauses, and lifts a hand to Stiles’ cheek, then leans in for a quick kiss.

“I love you,” he says, and Stiles’ heart skips.

“I…”

There’s a rustle from the living room, and then a quiet bark.

“What…?” Stiles starts, turning his head towards the noise.

“Surprise?” Derek says with hesitation, and his hand moves from Stiles’ cheek to his palm.

He leads Stiles over to where the Christmas tree is set up, and nudges him into the room, staying behind. There, under the tree, in a pile of ripped wrapping paper that was obviously meant to serve as cover, is Clawd, looking entirely too pleased with herself. It only lasts a second though, because the moment she spots Stiles in the room, she darts over, tail wagging and her paws on his shoulders.

“Oh my god, Derek!” Stiles says, his hands digging into her fur. “I went over yesterday and Nadia told me she wasn’t there anymore and I couldn’t stop thinking about the home she found and if it was good. This is…”

Stiles manages to extricate himself from Clawd, and the turns to kiss Derek. Then he pulls away, grinning wide.

“Best present ever!”

“Good to know, son,” the Sheriff says from the doorway, laughing.

“Dad, I… look , puppy!” Stiles blurts out, feeling heat in his cheeks.

“She’s a little too big to be called a puppy,” John says, still chuckling. “She’s a beauty though.”

Clawd bounces over to the Sheriff and licks his hands, then rushes back to wind around Stiles’ legs, almost knocking him over.

“Merry Christmas, kids,” John says as he watches them, then glances down to their linked hands. “Guess you figured things out then?”

“I… we… yeah,” Stiles says, and sees Derek ducking his head out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m gonna make breakfast,” John states, and heads towards the kitchen. “Come on, girl, let’s see if there’s some bacon for both of us.”

“Dad!” Stiles protests weakly.

“Let them, it’s Christmas,” Derek tells him.

Stiles turns to face him, and then glances up.

“We didn’t do any mistletoe, obviously, but… I really want to kiss you right now,” he says, his cheeks warm with a blush again.

“Do you need an excuse?” Derek asks, his eyes brighter than Stiles ever remembers them being.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I love you,” he whispers, and then he leans in for a kiss that quickly grows deeper than he intended it to be.

They don’t pull away from each other until a while later, when the sound of pans and pots clattering joins the occasional barks and John’s steady stream of talking to Clawd in a soothing tone.

“Come on, before Dad burns the kitchen down,” Stiles says, and tugs Derek towards the kitchen.

“I heard that, son,” John grumbles, but his face is bright and his lips turned up in a smile. “Let’s see if I help you pack up your stuff when you’re moving.”

“Daaaad,” Stiles whines.

He lets go of Derek’s hand only when he reaches the counter and nudges John away from the stove. Then he starts making breakfast, glancing towards the table where his Dad and Derek take turns scratching Clawd behind her ears.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers.

Derek looks up at that, and Stiles almost forgets the scrambled eggs he’s supposed to be stirring.

“I love you,” he mouths, and grins when Derek does the same back at him.