Stiles gets why he’s here. Like, the animals are cute and all, but the reason he’s losing a Saturday afternoon to volunteer work at the local animal shelter is Scott. Scott gives him those earnest puppy dog eyes and Stiles caves, the way he always does.
But Derek? Somehow Stiles imagines Derek is immune to those kinds of looks. But maybe not. Maybe Stiles is overestimating Derek’s immunity to looks. He’ll have to try his own puppy dog eyes on Derek sometime.
Whatever, he and Derek are here now, along with Scott and Isaac. The kind, happy lady who works here splits them into pairs and sends Scott and Isaac off to the feline wing, while Derek and Stiles are showed to the dog section. At first it’s a lot of cleaning and stuff, which isn’t super fun, but Stiles enjoys talking at the dogs. They get really excited over the attention.
But then it’s time for the part Stiles had been looking forward to.
With the puppies.
Or, well, all the dogs that are able and well behaved enough, anyway. Not just the young ones. But all dogs are puppies, right? Stiles has always thought so. He’s wanted a dog ever since he can remember, but his dad has a very firm stance on pets: Stiles can’t have any because Stiles’s dad doesn’t want to end up responsible for them when Stiles inevitably loses interest.
Which is really kind of offensive, Stiles thinks. He’d never lose interest in a dog. What kind of monster does his dad think he is?
But, whatever. Playtime. Stiles is mildly concerned about how the dogs will respond to having Derek’s Alpha-ness all up in their business, but he’s trying not to think about it too much. He just helps move the dogs to the play area.
Turns out that the dogs like Derek. Like, a whole lot. Derek sits on the ground and the dogs crawl all over him, tails wagging and tongues lolling out of their mouths. Stiles thinks it’s super cute. He sits near Derek and pets them, too, cooing at them and wrapping his arms around them in wonderful, emotionally nourishing hugs.
The dogs start bringing toys to them to play with and that’s how it goes for a little while; throwing balls, tugging ropes, stealing snuggles, etc. And Stiles totally tries to convince Derek to get on all fours and use his mouth on the rope, to play tug of war the actual dog way, but Derek doesn’t do it. The party pooper. But, eventually, the puppies start tiring. They flop all over the place and Stiles is entirely amused to find them flopping on Derek. They literally maneuver Derek down, flat onto the ground, and lay all over him.
And Derek doesn’t even mind. He’s smiling even. Stiles gets pictures. It’s so cute he wants to die.
After they’ve helped return the dogs to their proper places, after they’ve gotten pizza for dinner, after Scott and Isaac head home, Derek hesitantly asks for copies of the pictures Stiles took at the shelter. Stiles is all too happy to send them to Derek, of course. When Derek unlocks the screen of his own phone, though, Stiles catches a glimpse of the wallpaper on it.
It’s Stiles, holding a precious, fluffy little puppy in his arms and making a kissy face as he nuzzles at the puppy’s head. Derek must’ve taken it when Stiles wasn’t paying attention.
Derek blushes all the way up to the tips of his ears when Stiles asks about it, so Stiles decides not to press this time.
The next day, Stiles shows up at Derek’s loft with the fluffy puppy from the picture Derek took. “His name is Samson and we’re keeping him.”
Derek nods. “Okay.”
There’s a framed picture on the wall in the loft. In it, it’s Samson’s first birthday. Stiles is holding him and Derek’s arm is around Stiles, the three of them pressed close together. Samson’s tongue is lolling out happily and Derek is kissing Stiles’s cheek.