John hated it, but he had no other choice. His son was keeping something from him, something potentially illegal, and he was keeping zip about it.
At first, he tried to silently goad Stiles into telling him something. Anything. He had a secret girlfriend, lacrosse practice was rough, he walked by the forest path more often than not. It would explain why he’d always sneak out of the house, sometimes come bruised, and smell of some type of bush or foliage that John couldn’t name.
After a few weeks of this same behavior, which Stiles didn’t know he had picked up on, John resorted to the security cameras. He placed them strategically in his son’s room, the hallway, the entryway, and the living room. He didn’t think he needed anymore anywhere else. Not yet, anyway.
Using the app on his phone, he was alerted every time movement was picked up whenever he had a long or double shift at the station. He was surprised by what he saw.
Stiles on his laptop almost all the time he wasn’t out of the question. It wasn’t a porn thing, since he wasn’t on his bed and instead on his desk. Whatever it was he was doing, he was writing things down intently on a notepad before a few hours had gone by. Then he’d close the laptop and pocket the notepad, and leave the house. He usually wouldn’t come back home until late at night.
A few times, Scott was present. Maybe it was a project, but other teenagers would occasionally drop by. Lydia, who he knew Stiles had a crush on, Isaac, who the Sheriff knew was in a tough home situation, and other teenagers that John didn’t recognize.
It was innocent, really. So why the sneaking away? Why smell like trees and bushes like he was out in the forest all the time?
His concern was waved off for the most part until a few weeks later, when his phone pinged with a notification that motion was picked up by one of the cameras. This time, John was slightly concerned. Stiles was supposed to be at school. Was he now skipping?
Imagine his surprise when one Derek Hale is seen coming in through the window, observing his son’s room as if looking for something, then grabbing the laptop and charger off the desk and leaving out the same way he came. That... that was unexpected.
It was even more unexpected when he came home and found Stiles in the kitchen with his laptop, the very same one Hale had taken that morning.
“I thought you usually did your homework in your room,” John said conversationally.
“It’s almost summer and the whole second floor is feeling like it’s scorching,” Stiles said. Right, his kid hated the heat. “I’ll just do my stuff down here.”
For a little while, the camera feed showed exactly that. Eventually, while he had gone in for a late shift after eating dinner, he saw that all of the teenagers and Derek Hale were sitting in the living room, facing the TV. They looked they were having a good time, except for Hale. Stiles was the only one who seemed to incessantly prod Hale to have a good time, if the way he would playfully poke his cheek had anything to do with it.
It was all normal. Maybe the sneaking out was sneaking with friends in the middle of the night. In the forest, where they would sometimes roughhouse and play a little bit too rough, resulting in injuries. His son was okay. Just hanging out. That made him feel better.
At least, it did until he pulled his cruiser into the driveway that night shortly after ten and he looked at the security feed again and saw that while all the teenagers had gone, the Hale boy was still in the living room. Well, the time stamp showed that it took place an hour ago, so maybe Hale was long gone by now.
He and Stiles were standing in front of each other, conversing. They seemed to be speaking in silent volumes, not that the feed could pick up any audio. Stiles was looking down, tightening his arms around himself, avoiding Hale’s eyesight. Hale lifted Stiles’ chin to look at him, real gentle-like and...
He was kissing him.
It was a soft, short kiss before he backed up. He face wasn’t facing the camera, but he can imagine it looked pensive and worrisome. Stiles responded by wrapping his arm around the man six years his senior and kissing back with a fierceness he’d never seen before on his kid. Hale responded just as eagerly, going so far as to lift Stiles’ up, a move so surprising to the both of them that Hale stumbled and fell backwards onto the couch. They both laughed, if their reaction was anything to go by, and Hale gently cupped Stiles’ face like it was the most beautiful thing in the world, with Stiles easily leaning into the touch.
John shook himself out of his shock and checked to see what Stiles was doing now.
Instead he received feed of Stiles and Derek in his son’s room, on the bed with Stiles acting as the little spoon. Both were still fully clothed, their shoes and socks on the floor, but their jeans had been discarded. Other than that, though, there was nothing to suggest anyone did anything explicit.
Wait.. this was the live feed.
Dumbfounded, John unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, trying to stay as silent as possible as he traversed through the house. Making his way up the stairs and over the third step to avoid its squeakiness, John saw his son’s bedroom door open ajar.
Peeking inside, he was surprised to still see Derek and Stiles in bed, but this time Stiles was facing the other man. He was also singing softly, lightly threading his fingers through Derek’s hair. Derek caught the hand and brought it to his mouth, not really kissing it but gently caressing it with himself.
Stiles chuckled lightly and said, “Are you gonna go?”
“Do you want me to?” John was sure that if Stiles asked, Derek would anything to please him.
“No.” And that was that. The two settled before their breathing evened out, matching the other perfectly.
John silently closed the door all the way before he made his way to his own room.
The next day, Stiles walked down the stairs with a defensive air around him, like he was expecting something sour to happen.
“Aren’t you gonna ask about me and Derek?”
John looked up, surprised that his son would be the one to bring it up. He folded the newspaper he was reading on the table and directed his full attention to Stiles. “And where’s Derek now?”
“He left,” Stiles said. “I told him to go so I can handle talking about us alone.”
“Shouldn’t Derek be involved if it involves the two of you?” Forget Derek being six years older, Stiles might be the demanding one in this relationship.
At his words, though, Stiles looked down, ashamed of himself. “Derek didn’t want to be involved at all, at first.”
So he fessed up about some things. How with his friends he started hanging out with Derek and how he developed some form of feelings for him. How, when Stiles acted upon these feelings for the first time three months ago, Derek shot him down. Stiles expected it, he was so young, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. That would’ve been the end of it if Derek didn’t begin to go out of his way to avoid Stiles personally.
This, Stiles was not going to take lightly. He’d taken to sneaking at night “a few times” (there was definitely more to this story that he wasn’t telling; he went out almost every night the past two months) to try and force Derek into speaking with him.
Then it turned out that Derek also felt something for Stiles, but held onto those reservations because of the age thing. And the past-trauma and accusation-of-murder thing, which Stiles cringed at when he explained, was also a dividing factor.
It was a good thing it was Sunday, this shit was more entertaining than most blockbuster movies.
So they slowly began to form a friendly bond again, despite these feelings. That one feed John picked up of Derek sneaking into the house in the middle of the day was explained when Stiles said he’d forgotten his laptop at home with a presentation he had done saved onto it. He tested Derek to pick it up and his “hero” saved his ass from a complete F.
Finally, there was was the night before, when all his friends came over for a movie night. Stiles apologized for not informing his father that people would be coming over, but John waved it off.
“As long as you’re not doing drugs or alcohol, you can always have you’re friends here. But no parties.”
Stiles explained that he and Derek talked, for real this time, about their feelings. It basically ended up as “fuck it” and it became what John saw on the feed last night.
“He makes you happy?”
The smile on Stiles' face was blinding. “Yeah, Dad.”
In the end, John allowed Stiles to keep seeing Derek. It was crazy, he knew, but goddamn it, after Claudia’s death, he didn’t think either of them could be happy anymore. He wasn’t going to stop Stiles. If anything, they’d continue seeing each other in secret. They probably would have, if he hadn’t set up the cameras and come home when he did last night.
The next day, while his son was at school, John took the cameras down. While in Stiles’ room, his laptop was still open, and when John pressed his finger on the mousepad, he jolted.
The screensaver showed Stiles fast asleep next to giant, furry beast. It was a goddamn wolf of all things, and Stiles was sleeping against the thing like it was a normal occurrence. Based on the way the wolf was also curled into Stiles, its tail draping over his waist, it was.
Dear, lord. Stiles was becoming a real-life Disney Princess.