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The Predictability of I Told You So's

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Sties frowns down at his plate and the offending thing sitting on it. He slowly looks back up at Erica who’s already bounding away a mischievous smile that promises trouble. Walking away with Stiles’ glorious pancakes and leaving him with some egg mush that has green thingies in it.

He watches in horror has she sets his plate of food down in front of Derek.

Derek Hale frowns down at him with the same offended face Stiles used on the plate in front of him and then looks around confusedly, eyes locking on Stiles’.

Stiles swivels around quickly, refocusing his eyes on his food. Or well, Derek’s food he supposes.

Goddamnit, Erica.

“Erica,” he calls, patiently waiting until she deigns to turn his way. “It’s the fifth time in two weeks. I didn’t order this. You know it. I know it. Hot Angry Hale knows it, and I’d really like to get to work without any significant maiming so could you please, give me my order.”

Erica pouts, “You’re no fun, Stilinski.”

“You know what I am though? Hungry-“

“For dick?” Erica grins lewdly, cocking her head.

Something crashes loudly behind them and they both turn to see Derek staring mournfully at the glass of orange juice he just broke, the tips of his ears red. He looks like he’s regretting all of his life decisions.

Erica starts cackling.

Laura pokes her head out from the kitchen and starts laughing at her brother, a few other Hales following to join. All of the Hales are douchebags, Stiles has grown to learn. Absolutely all of them. Even the teeny ones.

Derek gets up, looking read to angstily storm out, but Erica beats him to it, swiftly picking up the food in front of Stiles and swapping it with Derek’s, pushing the larger man down.

“Sit. Stay,” she orders, with her usual confident attitude. “Good boy.”

Derek bares his teeth at her dangerously. Erica, because she’s made out of danger, fabulousness and sex, just flips her hair and winks.

“Are you happy?” she inquires, letting the plate clatter in front of Stiles.

He shoves a forkful of pancake in his mouth, “Ecstatic.”

«»

It keeps happening.

No not just happening. Stiles can deal with repetition. No, it gets worse.

Stiles didn’t know it could get worse, but apparently the answer is yes, yes it could and the reason why he hadn’t known it could have gotten worse was because he had never considered Laura Hale.

Laura Hale gets involved, personally so, and don’t get him wrong, Talia is a lovely person but her daughter is the spawn of Satan. She’s worse than the Spanish Inquisition. Unexpected and just hearing about her is enough to make you want to cry and give up hope on humanity.

No, he’s not being dramatic. He’s being realistic.

“What are you doing in my house?” He’s not even upset about it, he’s just resigned that this is his fate now.

“We came to hang out,” she grins like the evil person she is, “don’t you want us to hang out with you Stiles? Don’t you love us anymore?”

Stiles rolls his eyes, chances a look at Hot Angry Hale who has his eyes decidedly focused on his own boots. His dirty boots. That want to step on Stiles’ pristine floor.

Fine. Take your shoes off, Erica’s torturing food in the kitchen,” He shakes a hand at Laura motioning her in the general direction  of the kitchen. “Please don’t have sex with your girlfriend on the counter I just cleaned it.”

“I promise nothing.”

Laura pushes against the door, makes Stiles stumble a little backwards, so she can walk into his house like she owns the goddamned place.

“Nice booty shorts by the way,” she winks.

Stiles covers his nipples with his hands like that will restore his sense of modesty.

“Thank you, Erica bought them for me,” he says viciously.

Derek is still standing awkwardly at the door, shifting from foot to foot. To be fair his whole body his shifting, even his eyes who keep shifting between Stiles’ half naked, boxer clad body and his own boots. It’s all very shifty.

He points his thumb over his shoulder, towards the vague direction of his room, “I’m going to put on some clothes and maybe cry in shame for a couple of minutes. Please take off your boots and heads up, Erica is naked.”

“Why?” Derek gruffs. Like a grumpy bear. Or wolf. Or even a particularly upset bunny, he certainly as the teeth for it.

“Clothing is optional here at Chez Reyes-Stilinski.”

“But you’re wearing boxers.”

“Erica’s personality intimidates my manhood,” he shrugs and decides to beat a hasty retreat to stop himself from further embarrassment.

It works, mostly. It would’ve worked better if Stiles hadn’t tripped over every piece of furniture in the way to his bedroom.

«»

“Erica,” Stiles sighs dramatically, looking down at what is clearly not his order.

Erica bats her eyelashes in faux innocence. He doesn’t think Erica was ever innocent. He’s pretty sure she popped out of her mother already knowing everything she needed about everything that concerned non innocent things.

“Yes, roommate dearest?”

“Can you please bring me what I asked for?”

“Why don’t you go get it?” she juts her chin out to where Derek Hale is again frowning down at his plate. Well, Stiles’ plate, technically.

“You do know,” he starts slowly, “that just because you’re in gay love with one of the Hales not everyone needs to be, right?”

“Lies,” she dismisses, “and come on Stilinski, don’t tell me you don’t want some of that booty action.”

Stiles sighs, pushes his plate towards her with a pleading look, “Erica please. Mrs. Huttington’s book club has a reunion today. Me and my booty just want to have a fatty meal before we get pinched by old ladies for three hours.”

Erica cackles, but thankfully takes his plate away.

Laura pokes her head out of the door leading to the kitchen.

“I heard evil cackling, who’s suffering?”

Stiles lets his head thunk against the counter and groans. Loudly. So everyone can hear his pain.

“You’re pathetic, Stilinski.”

Isaac’s voice comes from somewhere near his head. Stiles really misses the days when Isaac was a lost puppy. Those good old days when the Hales hadn’t adopted him.

“Go suck on a scarf, Lahey!”

“That was one time! And I was drunk.”

Stiles lifts his head because watching Isaac bitchface through outrage is one of his favorite past times.

It gives him and his booty strength to go on.

«»

When Stiles walks in the diner it’s fairly busy and his usual counter seat is already taken. He resists the urge to pout and goes to sit on a table in the opposite side of the room, the only free one, that’s how busy the diner is today.

“I’ll just have my usual, you seem busy today,” he says quickly to Cora who’s blowing hair off her face with an annoyed scowl. Stiles thinks if she could bitchslap her own hair for being an inconvenience she would.

Stiles digs into his pocket and offers her a handful of scrunchies and hair clips.

Cora stops, her entire being stills, and she blinks carefully at him.

“Why do you have those on you?”

“We have kid reading time on Thursdays and Saturdays, you would not believe the amount of hair stuff and small toys that get lost.”

Cora carefully picks a hair tie and expertly ties her hair, leaving her face free of menacing strands.

“I guess you don’t suck after all, Stilinski.”

“High praise from a Hale,” he preens.

Cora gives him her patented I’m-done-with-you-and-every-life-decision-you’ve-ever-made look and walks away.

When she comes back she brings with her what is clearly Derek’s order.

“What.”

“Welcome to the family, bitch,” Cora smiles sweetly.

“No. No, go back to not liking me! Come on! I’m a terrible person, Cora. Cora, don’t walk a-“

Cora walks away from him with what could only be describe as the innate Hale strut.

Stiles considers crying into the spinach omelet in front of him to see if maybe his fairy godmother will come and just let him stuff his face with bacon in peace.

“Oh shit- I mean, shoot.”

A hand appears on the edge of his table.

Stiles slowly looks up to see a heavily pregnant lady looking for a table to sit whilst trying to get her big belly between the tight rows of tables.

Stiles looks at his plate and then at Derek, who’s frowning at Stiles’ order like it’s something condemnable.

He sighs dramatically and decides to stop being a piss baby.

“Why don’t you sit here.”

The lady looks at him with squinting eyes, “Are you offering me pity?”

“I’m giving up on my dignity and giving in to almost a year of manipulation at the hands of the Hale family.”

Lady blinks confusedly at him, looks like she’s considering calling Eichen House to pick him up, but ends up shrugging, “As long as it’s not pity for the bloated lady.”

Stiles gets off his chair and holds it for the lady to sit.

“I had to see a woman giving birth and the developing of a fetus for Sex Ed. class and let me tell you there’s nothing more hardcore than giving birth. Your organs get squished, certain parts dilate so your spawn can pop out. Anyone who spawns a kid deserves respect.”

The woman beams at him like he just made her entire day.

“You make it sound very metal.”

He pointedly looks at her black and purple hair. She laughs and holds her fist up.

“Rock on then,” she smiles.

Stiles bumps their fists together.

“It was nice to meet you, random jailbait guy.”

“Nice to meet you too, random off-balance pregnant lady.”

Pregnant Lady laughs brightly and starts waving him off.

Stiles squares his shoulders and marches towards Derek’s table like he’s a going into battle for Sparta.

He slowly pushes the chair across from Derek back, as the man tracks his movements, and sits down, pulling his plate to himself and shoving Derek’s toward him.

“So, we meet again,” he intones dramatically.

Derek ignores him in favor of pulling his plate closer to him protectively and glaring around. It’s freaking adorable.

“Stiles, we see each other practically every day.”

Stiles picks up a fork and a knife and starts cutting his bacon, “We never talk much though, do we?”

Derek shrugs, chews on his omelet methodically and swallows.

“I hadn’t realized you wanted to talk to me.”

Stiles lifts an eyebrow, “Why wouldn’t I?”

Derek glares down at his plate, jaw working even if there’s no food in his mouth.

Stiles patiently waits for him to think through whatever is going on his aesthetically pleasing head.

“You talk a lot.” Stiles heart drops somewhere close to the sewers that run under the city. “And I don’t,” Derek continues. “I’d bore you.”

“Uh,” Stiles says quietly, frowns down at his scrambled eggs, poking them with the fork. Maybe if he divides them in the right shapes he’ll find the answer to the enigma that is Derek Hale.

“I don’t mind it.”

“What?”

“I don’t mind it. That you don’t talk much. I thought you minded that I did. Talk much, that is.”

“I don’t mind it.”

“Stop being idiots and just make out already!”

Their heads snap up in sync to see Erica with her hands cupped around her mouth to shout at them. Most of the Hales and employees look like they stopped working to watch the scene.

Stiles flips her off under his flannel shirt to shield it from the teeny eyes that might be watching the scene. Everyone is watching the scene to be honest, it’s like the entire diner stopped to watch a proposal.

Which this is not. It’s far too soon for that.

“Don’t you hate how they’re always right,” Derek sighs, turning back to Stiles.

“Yes. It’s exhausting to my ego.”

Derek nods, starts cutting up his omelet in mouse bite sizes.

“What if- what if we try it out?”

“Try what out? Dating?” Stiles straightens up.

Derek chances a glance on him before focusing back down in his plate. “Yeah. Dating.”

“If you can say it without sounding like you’re about to be tortured by Vikings.”

Derek snorts a laugh. It’s one of the cutest sounds Stiles has heard.

“It’d be the smartest thing to do, really. If they’re right we get what may be something incredible-“

“And if they’re wrong we get to rub it in their faces,” Stiles concludes, nodding along.

“Exactly,” Derek smiles this tiny pleased smile like he just won an award.

Stiles tilts his head, a smile lilting his lips, “You’re kind of a smooth fucker aren’t you.”

Derek smirks and it’s something devastating, “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

Stiles blushes a little, ducks his head and clears his throat. The Hale charm is known to be fatal.

“Guess I will.”

A loud pop comes from their right, startling both of them and suddenly there’s streamers raining around their table and on their food.

“Congrats on getting your heads out of your asses,” Laura cackles at their surprised expression. “And I totally won the bet, take that suckers.”

Stiles looks down at his plate, up at Laura, across at Derek, back up at Laura.

“You’re a terrible waiter,” he tells her, grabbing for Derek and tugging him out of his sit.

“Where are we going?”

“To get breakfast. At Argent’s.”

Laura gasps, “Treason!” she accuses, pointing an incriminating finger at Stiles.

“That’s what you get for getting streamers on my bacon.”

“Derek! You can’t go. You’ll bring dishonor to your family!”

Derek shrugs, crowds a little closer to Stiles’ back, “You brought this on yourself.”

They pass through Pregnant Lady’s table who holds up a hand and which Stiles high fives happily and gives him an impressed look.

“Go get it, Jailbait.”

“You won the bet but at what cost, babe. At what cost!” Erica cackles, leaning against Laura and pecking her on the cheek, leaving behind a sticky stain of lipstick.

Stiles pulls the door open and marches out to the sounds of the little bell over it merrily jingling.

“We’re not really going to Argent’s diner are we?”

Stiles snorts, “Nah, I keep food stashed in the breakroom at work, we can go hide there until the bookstore opens.

Derek looks quietly excited at the prospect of spending time at the bookstore while it’s closed. Stiles aggressively finds it adorable.

“We should try something, before we go,” Derek mutters, large hand wrapping around Stiles’ wrist and pulling him closer. His other hand carefully, experimentally, goes to Stiles’ jaw and tilts his head up.

Stiles barely has time to think about the fact that the hotter Hale is going to kiss before it’s happening.

He’d never kissed anyone with so much stubble before and it’s amazing, the contrast between Derek’s soft lips on his and the scrape of his stubble.

Stiles bruises like a peach and he’s sure that when they pull back he’ll have stubble burn like crazy. He can’t make himself mind though, in fact, he’s quietly excited about it, thinks about all the possibilities of getting stubble burn some other fun places.

Derek presses his hand on Stiles’ louder back, dips him a little while he kisses him and Stiles would laugh because he’s being dipped like some dramatic heroin in a romance novel, but his mouth is too busy having a religious experience with Derek’s mouth. His eyes are fluttering okay, this is almost a crisis.

Derek bites his bottom lip tugs on it a little, before pulling back, slowly righting their positions..

His ears are a little red, his lips are swollen and he looks absolutely charming.

Stiles clears his throat. He’s sure he’s red all over and he ought to be a little embarrassed, but the way Derek keeps running his eyes all over his face really don’t give him the space to be.

“Well then,” Stiles says eloquently.

Derek grins a little smugly, “You can let go of me now.”

“Right,” Stiles says awkwardly, uncurls his hand from Derek’s hair and slips his other hand from his shoulder so he can grab his hand. He has to forcefully make himself step back.

Stiles starts to tug him away, turns his back a little to him since he absolutely can’t handle looking at his stupidly attractive face.

“You shouldn’t be so smug. This only means that every single member of your family was right and they get to shove it in your face for the rest of your life.”

“Rest of my life, uh?”

Stiles flashes a grin, “Go big or go home.”

Derek stumbles.

It’s great to see he’s not the only one getting flustered here.

«»

It’s terrible.

Absolutely horrible.

Laura won’t leave them alone, none of the Hales will really, with their constant I-told-you-so’s and their complete acceptance of Stiles.

There’s a standing dinner every Saturday to which not only Stiles but all his friends and parents are invited too. It’s loud and messy, the Hales kids always break stuff, someone always yells at someone else. It feels like family and Stiles loves it.

He loves the Hales and he loves how is parents just accepted their new extended family and how he can count on everyone, he loves the constant support.

He does not love, however, how Erica keeps interrupting Stiles’ and Derek’s smexy times, he really does not appreciate it, but in the end they figure out how to make it work.

Laura and Stiles decide to switch houses after a year. Laura gets Erica to have as much as loud sex in as many surfaces as she wants and Stiles gets Derek to do exactly the same. It’s like that wife swap program except with a little less drama and more sex.

On the pros list of dating Derek there are all the little things Derek does that he loves, like make coffee in the morning for him and hold doors for him and get quietly excited about his work on the preserve and how they’re trying to bring wolves back to California. The way his jaw will go tight and his fists clenched when they fight and the way he’ll smile dopily all sun warm and pliant in the mornings they get to sleep in. He loves his dry wit that goes toe to toe with Stiles’ own and his dryer humor that manages to be hilarious just at the right time.

Okay, he’ll admit, he just loves Derek. Completely and stupidly loves Derek, even if his menace of a family won’t stop with their I told you so’s.