Every Rogue Needs A Wolverine
Derek tugged up the side of his pyjama pants and looked down at Rogue who was attempting to scale his leg using the fabric.
"Stop," he told her, gently pushing her away with his foot.
Derek turned back to the frypan in front of him and turned the bacon over, inhaling the smell deeply – he did love bacon. He heard a dull thud from upstairs and smiled to himself picturing Stiles stumbling to the bathroom, eyes barely open, and scratching at his hip or stomach or arm. Derek loved to watch him wake up but it was a special day and the werewolf wanted to see Stiles' face when the man came downstairs to a full breakfast more than he wanted the sight upstairs.
Derek growled as his pants were yanked down again and he reached around his body to grab them as he tried not to drop the bacon on the floor. He put down the tongs and turned to look at Rogue who was up to his knee. He scooped down and pulled her off, tucking her into his chest.
"You cannot use my pants for a climbing tree," Derek told her, stealing himself against the way she nuzzled into his chest. "Especially when there is bacon spitting at my delicate parts."
Rogue meowed at him.
"I'm locking you in the bathroom until I've finished cooking," Derek told her, dropping her onto the tiles and darting quickly out of the room.
He heard the shower turn on upstairs and gave some thought to going up there but there was bacon cooking and Derek had a plan. So, he pushed all thoughts of wet, soapy Stiles out of his mind and went back to his bacon. He flipped it all over again and then pulled out another heavy frypan to cook the pancakes. He opened the silicon mould he'd purchased online, and had shipped to a PO box in town, just for this and poured the batter into the middle. He felt his stomach shiver with nerves and wondered, again, if this was all too much, too soon, too…sappy, but he was determined to give Stiles something that he would never expect.
He watched the pancake carefully and pulled off the mould, flipping it just like his father had taught him. Then he swore; he had forgotten the damned chocolate, he pulled the container closer and flipped out the pancake when it was cooked – that one could be his. He put the mould back in, poured the batter in and then delicately dropped chocolate chips into the batter. Derek rubbed at his face, going through the list of everything in his head. He had the grapefruit and lemon juice that Stiles adored in the fridge. He had a fruit platter in there as well because Stiles was a fan of fruit on his chocolate chip pancakes. But he hadn't finished making the tomatoes or toast, and the hash browns wouldn't be ready for another ten minutes. He pulled the bacon out of the pan and put it on some paper towel before he poured eggs into the still sizzling pan and turned the oven up a little higher. He heard the shower turn off above him and swore under his breath – he was never going to get everything finished before Stiles came down and he'd thought he had it all sorted out. Normally, Stiles never crawled out of bed for an hour after a morning blow job on a Saturday and he was breaking almost a year of tradition. Derek flipped out the pancake onto a plate and poured out another one. He could hear Stiles moving around upstairs, getting dressed, and Derek gave up on his plan – Stiles would just have to sit and wait for the perfect breakfast.
Derek flipped out another pancake, without the mould, and poured more batter as he listened to Stiles slowly walking down the stairs. He put the plate with the ready pancakes, and the mould, in the microwave to keep them from Stiles' sight until he was ready.
"I smell bacon," Stiles called out.
"I'm making breakfast," Derek told him.
Derek turned to look at the other man as he walked into the kitchen with a smile on his face. Stiles took in the \pancake cooking, the bacon, eggs, and smiled at Derek. "You're spoiling me."
"I was hungry."
Stiles rolled his eyes and walked over to Derek, sliding his arms around the werewolf's stomach and propping his chin on Derek's shoulder. "What's the special occasion?"
Derek fought the desire to stiffen and shrugged instead.
"And where is Rogue, she loves hanging out with you when you're cooking."
"She kept trying to scale my leg," Derek explained. "I had to put her in the bathroom."
Derek reached back and flicked at Stiles' pyjama pants. "She kept pulling my pants down."
Stiles laughed. "A cat after my own heart."
"You can go and let her out if you want," Derek said. "Just keep her away from my pants."
Stiles pressed a kiss into Derek's neck before pulling away and heading out of the kitchen
Derek had an idea and caught Stiles' attention, the other man ducking his head back into the room.
"Why don't you entertain her in the lounge room until I'm done?"
Stiles smiled and nodded. "Are you sure you don't want any help."
"I'm almost done."
"I know you're up to something," Stiles told him. "But I don't want to spoil the fun."
Derek flashed him a toothy grin and turned back to what he was doing. He pulled the mould out of the microwave as soon as Stiles was settled in the lounge room and set to finishing his work. He could hear Stiles in the other room playing with Rogue and let the sounds fill his mind and push out the anxiety over what he was about to do.
As he flipped out the final pancake, he carried the plate over to the table and put it down. Then he reached out and moved it a little over, swapped it with the plate of bacon, swapped it back and then growled at himself. He checked to make sure he had absolutely everything and then he slipped out the kitchen door and grabbed the cardboard box that was sitting just outside. He opened it and checked on everything inside before he placed it gently onto one of the chairs. Then he changed his mind and put the box back outside again. He took a moment to hit his head against the door jamb and then went out into the lounge room. He froze in the doorway to the lounge room and took in the view for a minute. Stiles was reading a book with Rogue stretched out in his lap and Stiles was scratching the cat's fur. The part that made Derek freeze was the glasses perched on Stiles' nose – they were a new acquisition and Derek was still finding them very distracting. A fact Stiles seemed to take great pleasure in.
Stiles turned to look at Derek and smiled. "Like something you see?"
Derek nodded and walked over to him, leaning over him and kissing Stiles deeply. Stiles smiled when Derek pulled away.
"I like everything I see," Derek told him
Stiles smiled broadly. "You're the biggest marshmallow in the world and I love you."
"Breakfast is ready."
Stiles nodded and scooped Rogue off his lap and stood up. "Should I keep the glasses on?"
"You don't need to read during breakfast."
Stiles smirked at him. "I never said I needed to keep them on, just curious if you wanted me to."
Derek shook his head. "Come on, or it'll get cold."
Stiles pulled the glasses off and put them on the table next to the couch before he followed Derek into the kitchen. He whistled when he saw the spread on the table.
"Why are you spoiling me?" Stiles asked.
Derek shrugged. "It's going to sound silly."
"It's the anniversary of the day we met."
Stiles froze and turned to look at Derek. "Really?"
Derek nodded. "Changed my life meeting you."
Stiles yanked Derek into him and kissed him deeply.
"Changed mine too," Stiles told him, breath fluttering over Derek's lips as he spoke.
Derek smiled and pressed a quick kiss to Stiles' lips and then pushed him towards a seat.
"How on earth did you convince us for years that you're a gruff, grumpy bastard who doesn't care for anyone or anything?"
Derek looked at Stiles seriously. "I was."
"Oh," Stiles said, reaching out and gripping Derek's wrist. "I…I'm glad you're not anymore."
"I know," Derek told him, forcing a smile onto his face. "Now, I-"
"Oh my God," Stiles interrupted. "These pancakes are in the shape of hearts."
"I want to come around there are kiss you and if I do this is going to end up with us having sex on top of the pancakes," Stiles told him. "But understand that I would like to and I'm going to later…after breakfast."
Derek felt his face heat up and nodded. "Okay."
"And by the way, I'm might slip into a food coma before the sex."
Derek nodded and sat back to watch as Stiles filled his plate with pancakes and fruit. He took a drink of the juice and his eyes lit up.
"You hate this juice."
"Yeah, but you love it."
Stiles frowned at him and Derek reached out for the bacon so that he didn't have to look at the other man.
"I didn't tell you," Stiles said, voice tight. "My dad is planning to go to London, Italy, and Spain for his sixtieth and he was wondering if we wanted to go with him."
"He wants to spend his birthday with me?"
Stiles nodded. "Both of us, you're family now."
"Not yet," Derek said, standing up and taking the opportunity in front of him.
"What?" Stiles asked, confused as he watched Derek walk out of the house.
Derek smiled and turned around to grab the box that was sitting outside of the kitchen door. He came back inside and smiled nervously as Stiles frowned at him.
"I got us something."
Derek placed the box on the chair next to Stiles and nodded at him. Stiles frowned again and pulled the box open. "Oh," he said, reaching in and pulling the kitten out of the box. "Why?"
Derek dropped down until he was kneeling next to Stiles. "Rogue needs a Wolverine."
"What?" Stiles asked, eyebrows squashed together in confusion.
Derek reached out and twisted the collar on the kitten's neck around, until Stiles could see the two rings there.
"Wait," Stiles said, eyes flicking between the rings and how Derek was kneeling in front of him. "Are you…sorry, you go on."
Derek smiled at him. "I love you, and I would like to…" Derek swallowed thickly. "I would like to spend the rest of my life with you."
Stiles smiled and darted forward to kiss him. "Don't be nervous, I'm going to say yes."
"Yes." Stiles said immediately.
Derek smiled brightly and undid the collar around the kitten's neck, dropping the two rings into his hand. The kitten turned around and nuzzled into Derek's hand.
"You gave me a cat that likes you more than me," Stiles said with a smirk.
Derek sighed. "I wanted this to be better."
"It's perfect," Stiles said, putting the box and Wolverine on the floor and then sliding down onto his knees.
"I had a speech planned." Derek told him, voice distressed.
"Did it end with me saying yes?" Stiles asked, curling a hand around Derek's cheek.
"Then you killed it," Stiles told him, leaning forward to kiss Derek. "One question?"
"Am I Wolverine or Rogue?"
Derek shrugged. "Who do you want to be?"
"I want to be Wolverine but you are basically the real-life version of him."
Derek smiled and grabbed Stiles' hand to drop the ring into his palm. "Look."
Stiles frowned and looked at the inside of the ring – Be my Wolverine? Stiles darted forward to kiss Derek. "See, perfect, this is completely perfect."
Derek smiled at him and felt the weight of his worry slid away.
"Are you going to put it on me?" Stiles asked, holding up the ring.
Derek nodded and slipped the ring onto Stiles' finger. "I wasn't sure if you'd want a ring but if you don't want to I thought we could keep them until the wedding."
"I like this," Stiles told him, spinning the ring on his finger. "What does yours say?"
Derek handing it to Stiles, Stiles twisted it around and frowned when he found no writing inside of the band.
"I thought you could decide what it should say."
"You're killing me here," Stiles told him. "Forget the food, take me upstairs."
"Fine, take me here."
"No," Derek told him, "we're going to eat breakfast first."
Stiles sighed. "Fine."
They ate their breakfast, Stiles' ankle rubbing at Derek's calf but the werewolf refused to be distracted by that, or the way that Stiles kept fiddling with the ring on his finger, or the plainly obscene way the other man was eating.
The moment Derek put his knife and fork down, Stiles was up, dirty dishes thrown in the sink, everything else into the fridge and then he grabbed Derek's hand and pulled him towards the stairs.
"Wait," Derek said, resisting Stiles' hands.
"Why!" Stiles asked, turning around and glaring at Derek.
Stiles looked at the kitten still sitting in the box. "I love him but he's getting in the way of-" Stiles phone rang from his pocket – ringtone the one he used for Wednesday. "Dammit."
Derek smiled. "Answer the phone and I'll set Wolverine up in the bathroom."
Stiles made sad eyes at Derek but the werewolf just turned around and collected Wolverine.
Stiles groaned and answered the phone. "Hello?"
"Stiles," Wednesday said through the phone.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm just about to have a lot of werewolf sex, what are you doing?"
Wednesday let out a sound that Stiles knew was a laugh. "I was going to come and see you on my way through California but I suppose I will come by on the way back instead."
"I wouldn't answer the door," Stiles told her. "You have no idea how good werewolf sex is."
Derek growled lowly at Stiles who turned around and winked at him.
"I will call you in a few days then," Wednesday said, hanging up on him.
"Stiles," Derek growled.
"What?" Stiles asked innocently.
"Did you have to tell her that?"
Stiles nodded with a broad smile on his face before he dropped his phone onto the bench and started walking…stalking towards Derek.
"You know," Stiles said, sliding his hands around the curve of Derek's hips. "I just want to thank you for this morning."
"I wanted it to be perfect," Derek told him, his neck prickling uncomfortably.
"I still would have said yes if you'd dropped a dead deer at the back door and grunted the question at me."
Derek rolled his eyes. "I'm not a dog."
Stiles scratched at the hair behind Derek's ear and the werewolf forced himself to remain stoic. Stiles didn't believe him for a second – he knew how much Derek loved that move.
"I'm sorry I tried to ruin the amazing breakfast you made for us," Stiles said, pressing a kiss to the left side of Derek's mouth, then the right, then the very tip of his nose.
Derek smiled. "You didn't ruin anything; you did say yes."
"And now," Stiles said, walking them out of the kitchen. "I'm going to take you upstairs and we're going to celebrate."
Derek dropped his hands to Stiles' hips and yanked the other man up and into his body. Stiles curled his arms and legs around Derek.
"Upstairs, fiancé," Stiles said, burying his head in Derek's neck and starting work on a hickey.
Derek turned around and walked them up the stairs, hands kneading Stiles' backside. When he reached the top of the stairs, Derek pulled Stiles away from his neck and kissed him thoroughly as he walked them into their bedroom and kicked the door closed behind them.
Later, Stiles tried to count out his breaths as his chest heaved and he had to blink away the light-headedness that was pushing down on him. Derek reached out and wrapped his hand around Stiles' ribs – pulling Stiles' brain back to reality.
"Will," Stiles panted out, turning into Derek. "ask me like you had planned?"
Derek grinned at him toothily and pressed a kiss to Stiles' temple then he pulled himself up onto his knees and looked down at Stiles who was still catching his breath. "Stiles, this is the anniversary of the day we met – the first time you changed my life. And I want to ask you to change it again by marrying me. Then I was going to give you Wolverine and explain that everyone Wolverine needs a Rogue and that I wanted to be yours."
Stiles yanked Derek down onto his body and wrapped his legs around Derek's middle. "Yes, Rogue, I'll be your Wolverine."
Derek laughed and kissed Stiles.