Life as Stiles Stilinski had known it was over.
Irrevocably, assuredly, shockingly, beyond a shadow of doubt and thoroughly over.
“How?” he cried to the aggressively chopped bunch of cilantro in front of him, only to jerk like he’d been shocked when the cilantro replied with a heartfelt, “Dude!”
Not the cilantro, of course.
His best friend, his buddy, his brother from another mother, and currently the sole spectator to the aftermath of the unexpected and terrifying text message that had recently upended Stiles’ life, heart, and all overall sanity.
“Dude! Holy shit, dude!” Scott exclaimed again, grabbing Stiles’ shoulder, and shaking him like a puppy.
Stiles stared at Scott, then back at his phone, which he’d been clutching like a lifeline for the past ten minutes, and which was still displaying the message that had so shockingly sealed Stiles’ fate.
He blinked, staring at the message for what felt like the thousandth time and hearing the blood rush in his ears as he came to the exact same conclusion that he’d already drawn nine-hundred and ninety-nine times before.
It was official.
Stiles’ life as he’d known it was over.
“Dude! Why didn’t you tell me?”
Stiles managed to tear his eyes away from Derek’s message and somehow found the energy to frown at the utterly offended look on his best friend’s face, his brown eyes wide and filled with righteous indignation as he shook his head determinedly.
“Seriously! You could have told me you were trying! I wouldn’t have judged you! I mean, sure, it’s a little early, maybe, but I would have been totally supportive anyway! Dude! I could have made you an awesome baby-making-playlist!”
He frowned, cocking his head, and giving Stiles a searching look.
“Wait. You did have a playlist, right? I read this article online that polled parents for the ultimate baby-making playlist and they listed Adele’s Someone Like You as number one, but I honestly don’t get that, because wasn’t that a break-up song? Anyway, if I was a baby, I’d much rather be conceived to something like Chicago’s You’re The Inspiration! Wouldn’t that be awesome? I think it’s never too early to invest in your baby’s self-confidence, don’t you?”
“Ngh,” Stiles replied intelligently, waving his hands to imply that he was currently stuck in the middle of a rather significant life-crisis and that Scott was very much missing the point.
Also, his baby was going to be part Derek, so there was no chance in hell that the little stinker wasn’t going to be the most inspiring, perfect, and all-around wonderful baby in the history of baby-kind, thank you very much.
Stiles wheezed, his eyes snapping back to Derek’s text-message as he let out a whimper at the mental image that followed.
His beloved, sexy, precious, snarky, grumpy, and absolutely infuriating love of his life was prego and Stiles had most definitely not wanted it one tiny bit!
Stiles wanted Derek to have his babies at some point, of course.
In a couple of years, maybe, after he’d graduated college, found a job, and figured out a way to support Derek and their hypothetical baby without having to move in with the Hale pack and suffer Talia Hale’s wrath of judgment every morning while he was trying to eat his oatmeal.
In fact, Stiles wanted to have it all.
He wanted the dog, the house, the white picket fence, the most amazing Omega in all the lands, a little Alpha kiddo who was going to grow up to become a pitcher for the Mets, and a gorgeous set of little twin Omega babies who were going to be rocket scientists, look just like Derek, and whom Stiles was going to proudly #OmegaDad all over Instagram and Twitter to fight the Alphatriarchy.
With adorable stickers to cover their squishy little face, of course, because Derek already looked like you were pulling his teeth when Laura tagged him on Facebook and Stiles was sure he was going to be a lot less inclined to allow their kids to be displayed all over social media.
He was going to be an amazing father, obviously, which was probably good news for the sneaky little cluster of cells deceptively hidden under the warm, firm skin that Stiles had blissfully and rather obliviously lavished his love and attention on just this morning.
This morning, back when everything in his life had still made sense and he hadn’t been a 20-year-old college student with a boyfriend who was inexplicably pregnant and under the mistaken impression that Stiles wanted him to be.
“You’re going to make me the godfather, right? I promise I’d be amazing at it! I’d babysit them and I’d make them spaghetti with little hot dog moons, and I’d teach them how to howl at the moon, even though Laura and Cora keep laughing at me and tell me I still sound like a puppy going through puber...”
“How the fuck did this happen!”
Having finally regained the ability to speak in coherent sentences rather than wheezes, whimpers, and monosyllables, Stiles was not of a mind to watch his language as he stared at Scott with wide, desperate eyes, figuring his inability to communicate without expletives was yet another checkmark on a rapidly growing list of reasons why he was one hundred percent very much definitely not ready to be a father yet.
Scott frowned, looking increasingly confused.
“Huh? What do you mean? I thought you guys were trying to-“
“No! Of course not! Dude, we’re going to be Juniors in college next month, why the hell would we be trying to have a baby right now?”
"But...but Derek said you wanted it! Why would he think you’d want him to get pregnant if you didn’t?”
“How the hell should I know?” Stiles cried, raking a hand through his hair in desperation.
“So you...don’t want him to get pregnant?” Scott asked for clarification, looking even more confused and increasingly judgmental.
“No! Yes! I want him to get pregnant at some point, sure, but not now! Fuck! How did this happen! He never forgets his shots, he’s not...and why the hell does he think I wanted it?”
“Uhm...” Scott scratched at his head, his cheeks coloring as he flashed Stiles an uncomfortable little smile.
“Okay, so don’t tell me any details or anything, but is it at all possible that you might have...you know...given him the impression accidentally? In the...uh...heat of the moment, so to speak?”
Stiles stared at his best friend, his own cheeks coloring bright red as his mouth dropped open.
“There’s no shame in it!” Scott hurried to add, now looking like a beautiful ripe tomato as he let out a nervous chuckle.
“It happens to everyone! Like, when Allison was in heat last year, I told her that I was going to stuff her with my baby-cream and call her my preggy-donut. It’s completely normal. Nothing to be ashamed of!”
Stiles raised his eyebrows, taking a quick break from freaking out about his entire life to give Scott an incredulous look.
“Seriously? Wait – was that why Chris wanted to have a little chat with you at Dunkin’ Donuts and you locked yourself in your room for three days after you came back?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Scott said with great dignity, shaking his head and giving Stiles a rather pitiful look.
“You did, didn’t you? You got drunk off his heat-scent and told him you were going to put a bunch of babies in him, didn’t you?”
“Not in those words, no!” Stiles defended himself, looking back down at his cellphone and swallowing heavily as he realized just where their fateful error in communication had occurred.
“Oh no! You didn’t tell him you were going to knock him up with a litter, did you? Dude, was he super pissed? You know the Hales are really iffy about dog jokes! They won’t even allow me to make them, and I’ve been a werewolf for almost four years now!”
Scott looked truly aghast, and Stiles shook his head, running his hands over his face and moaning regretfully.
“No! Of course I didn’t! I just .... ijustoldhimiwantedtobreedhimuntilhewasbigandroundwithmybabies.”
“Huh? What?” Scott asked, frowning and looking more confused than ever.
Stiles dropped his hands, giving his best friend a despairing look.
“Oh for heaven’s sake! I told him I wanted to breed him until he was big and round with my babies! How the fuck was I supposed to know he’d take that literally?”
"Jeez louise! What is this ruckus?!"
Stiles whirled around, his cheeks once again flushing bright red as he found himself under the disapproving stare of an elderly Alpha in a western shirt, boots, a bolo tie, and a cowboy hat.
A moment later, the rest of the country band stumbled into the kitchen to glare at Stiles in disapproval.
It was the newest dramatic turn in the quickly developing soap opera that was Stiles’ life, but also altogether fitting, since his crisis of existential proportions had seen fit to befall him in the kitchen of Betty’s Burgers, known far and wide as Beacon Hills’ finest American diner experience.
It was also Stiles’ current place of employment, partly because he appreciated the perks of getting to take home leftover burgers with kick-ass home-made cilantro-lime-mayo and mostly because he was a broke college student who couldn’t afford to slack off during the summer months and was quite certainly not cut out for impending fatherhood.
Given the look on Frank Bennett’s face, the elderly Alpha seemed inclined to agree.
“What happened?” Elmer Morgan demanded next to him, his gaze flitting back and forth between Scott and Stiles suspiciously. “What have these dimwits done now?”
“What? I didn’t do anything!” Stiles’ traitorous best friend exclaimed immediately, pointing at Stiles, and promptly axing all his chances at becoming the future godfather of Stiles and Derek’s lovechild.
“Neither did I! At least I didn’t mean to!” Stiles moaned, hiding his face behind his hands, and slumping forward as dramatically as he knew how.
“I think I heard something about breeding and babies,” Willie Charleston added helpfully, turning to frown at Stiles and giving him a look of such disbelief that Stiles would have certainly felt offended had he not currently been stuck in the middle of a rather debilitating life crisis.
“Excuse me? Breeding? Babies? You must have misheard! This kid and the pretty wolf boy certainly aren’t going to breed before they enter into holy matrimony, right?” Arthur Sullivan exclaimed, raising both eyebrows expectantly as he gave Stiles a critical once-over.
Then, he groaned and buried his face in his hands.
It was official.
His future mother-in-law was going to use her claws and fangs and kill him dead.
“Lord have mercy!” Arthur sighed, very deliberately tugging at the cross hanging around his neck and shooting Stiles a rather judgmental stink-eye.
“Are you serious? Did you seriously get that pretty wolf pregnant before making an honest man out of him?” Elmer gasped, shaking his head, and staring at Stiles like he’d just seen the demon of lust incarnate.
Faced with a group of judgmental elderly Alpha cowboys, a traitorous best friend, and a pregnant Omega who’d clearly flunked out of Communication 101 and thought it appropriate to deliver such life-changing news via text, Stiles gave up.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
The four older Alphas gave each other incredulous looks, like they had absolutely no idea how to deal with the absolute failure at Alphahood in front of them who was currently very tempted to sob all over his chopped cilantro.
After a painfully long pause, Frank cleared his throat.
“Well. There’s only one thing you can do. You’re going to Alpha up and make an honest man out of your lovely Omega,” he said firmly, a warning hint of red flashing in his eyes that suggested he was going to personally drag Stiles to the altar in case he tried to run and abandon Derek to his pregnant fate.
Feeling wrongfully accused, Stiles bristled with righteous indignation.
“Well obviously! There was a plan though! A five-year plan! I was going to propose on the day of our fifth anniversary and I was going to have an amazing ring, which I was going to pay for with my copious amounts of money earned at my kick-ass amazing job that I was going to get right after my graduation!”
He gasped, turning to Scott in horror.
“Shit! I don’t even have a ring! I can’t propose! Who has ever proposed without a ring? Derek will laugh in my face and then his family will rid me off my knot and run me out of the country! Shit! Shit, shit, shit!”
“Then don’t propose! I honestly don’t think Derek is expecting you to,” Scott said helpfully, wincing when Stiles glared at him indignantly.
“Dude, I would mind! What if Derek thinks I don’t want to marry him! He would, I know he would!”
Scott shook his head immediately.
“No, I’m pretty sure he thinks that marriage is an antiquated ownership ritual, and that the modern Omega needs no Alpha to provide for them anymore!”
Across the room, the band groaned in unison.
“And what fresh nonsense is this now?” Arthur asked despairingly, frowning when Willie shrugged beside him.
“Technically he’s right, you know. My lovely granddaughter informs me that they have all kinds of modern toys for the lesbian Omega these days and you really don’t need an Alpha anymore.”
“Well obviously, but the pretty Hale Omega appears to have gotten himself knocked up by this idiot of an Alpha here, so he obviously isn’t a lesbian and should get married before the poor little baby is born in sin!” Arthur shot back, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff when Willie rolled his eyes at him.
“You do know that lesbians can get married too now, right? My darling granddaughter says you must get woke!”
“Get woke? Woke? Do I look like I’m sleeping?” Arthur asked incredulously, turning to Stiles and Scott as though he expected them to provide an answer to this conundrum.
Stiles was fresh out of answers, unfortunately.
Also, he was going to be a daddy because his Omega was pregnant.
His Omega was pregnant.
His beautiful, amazing, beloved Derek was pregnant and clearly excited about it, too.
Of this, Stiles was absolutely sure.
He had, after all, seen the smiley icon clear as day, and anyone who knew Derek was more than aware that his social media-hating Omega did not bust out those emojis for just anyone or anything.
He squeezed his eyes shut, imagining Derek sitting in his bedroom across town at the pack-house and anxiously staring at his phone, awaiting Stiles’ jubilant answer as he gently massaged his not-at-all-pregnant looking belly with body butter and snacked on pre-natal vitamins.
Stiles was going to have to buy those, probably.
Also, a rocking chair, a cradle, a stroller, a shit-ton of diapers, and a onesie saying “Daddy’s Little Omega”, because their surprise-baby was clearly going to be the most precious little Omega baby the world had ever seen.
They were going to be rosy-cheeked, have Derek’s beautiful hazel eyes, their soft baby hair was going to smell like all that was good in the world, and if Stiles were to miraculously survive Talia Hale’s wrath on account of his surprise-impregnating ways, the sight of his gorgeous Omega mate cradling their perfect Omega baby was sure to finish Stiles’ heart off for good.
He was going to be a daddy.
He was going to be a daddy!
“I’m going to be a daddy!” he said out loud, turning to stare at Scott with wide eyes.
“Dude!” he said with feeling, casting a brief glance at the cutting board with the cilantro and onions and looking suspiciously like was planning on blaming the bulbous vegetable for the river of tears that was about to flood the kitchen.
Behind Stiles, Arthur shook his head with a sigh that was as much amused as it was exasperated.
“Before you bust out the cigar, there is still the matter of your proposal,” he reminded him, his eyebrows rising all the way up his forehead when Stiles let out a dejected huff.
“I told you! I don’t even have a ring! Not that I could afford one, either!” he muttered, looking up with a frown when Frank cleared his throat.
“That, dear boy, is a problem we can solve quite easily. You do recall that my sister owns the finest jewelry shop in town, yes?”
“Given the circumstances, she would be more than happy to give you a great discount. It would be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it?”
“I’ll call her right now. She’ll get you that ring before your shift ends and then you can hurry to your lovely wolf and propose!”
“But....whoa! Wait a second! I have to propose tonight?”
“Right now would be better, obviously, but you certainly can’t propose without a ring,” Arthur sniffed, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head like he couldn’t quite deal with Stiles’ failure at life in general and Alphahood in particular.
“But I don’t even have a plan! I can’t just go over there and be like “Yo, Derek, since you’re prego, wanna get married?” He’d punch me! And I’d deserve it, too!”
“Don’t you worry about that, either” Willie grinned, waving his arms in a grand gesture encompassing the entire band and wiggling his eyebrows.
Stiles stared uncomprehendingly.
He did, in fact, comprehend, and his comprehension came with a vision humiliating enough to make him break out in a cold sweat.
It was official.
Stiles was going to be a daddy and he was also completely screwed.
“This is a bad idea. A really, really bad idea. We should turn back! We should...”
“Dude, it’ll be totally awesome!” Scott said firmly, gripping Stiles by his shirtsleeve and preventing him from turning around and running straight back to the jeep.
“I still think he should have changed!” Arthur grumbled behind him, but Stiles was way beyond the point of caring that he smelled like onions and had a mayonnaise stain on his shirt.
Not to mention his sweat-stains from an evening spent working in a kitchen and a leaf of cilantro stuck in his hair that Scott had discreetly removed when they’d gotten out of the car.
In short, Stiles was a literal and figurative mess, but that was almost tragically fitting given his current circumstances, and Derek definitely deserved to know what he had gotten himself into.
What Stiles and his over-eager knot had gotten his beautiful Omega into.
“I think I’m going to pass out,” he informed Scott, who responded by gripping his shoulder tightly and marching him forward.
It was a beautiful, warm July night, the moon was almost full, the sky was lit up with stars, and there were no clouds to spare the celestial beings from witnessing what was already shaping up to be the most humiliating experience in Stiles’ existence.
Truly, if the aliens had chosen that moment to take over Earth because humanity was not worth saving, Stiles wouldn’t have blamed them one tiny bit.
The plan – if one were to insult every plan to have ever planned by calling it a plan – was relatively simple indeed.
Armed with a cheerleading best friend by his side, a bouquet of only partially wilted flowers that had recently served as table decorations at the restaurant in his hand, and a gorgeous engagement ring in his jeans pocket that he could absolutely not afford despite the admittedly generous discount, Stiles was going to ‘surprise’ his pregnant love with a proposal and an impromptu concert courtesy of a high-key judgmental country band.
“I don’t even know if Derek likes country music!” Stiles whispered frantically as they neared Derek’s window, his heart dropping into his stomach when he realized that one should definitely know such things about the people one procreated with.
“I think he once mentioned that he likes Dolly Parton,” Scott whispered back, clapping Stiles on the shoulder when they came to a stop just outside the house.
“Obviously! Dolly Parton has a program that sends free books to kids! Everyone in their right mind loves her!” Stiles hissed, feeling not at all reassured as the band got into position behind him.
“Scott, I really don’t think this...”
“Will you stop fussing! We know what kids like these days! We got this!” Arthur snapped behind Stiles, just before clearing his throat and breaking into song.
“We were both young when I first saw you, I close my eyes and the flashback starts. I’m standin’ there on a balcony in summer air, see the lights, she the party, see the ball gowns-“
Stiles’ eyes widened.
“Scott?” he whispered, turning to his best friend, and giving him a pleading glance.
“Yeah?” Scott whispered back, his gaze frantically snapping back and forth between Stiles, the band, and the Hale house, where a light had just turned on in one of the upstairs bedrooms.
“Am I...am I serenading my boyfriend with a Taylor Swift song performed by four Alphas in their 70s?”
Scott nodded, giving him a grave look.
“Yeah. I think you are.”
“Kill me. Please.”
“Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone, I’ll be waiting, all there’s left to do is run-“
“It is quite catchy though,” Scott mused, just as the light in Derek’s bedroom turned on and the window was opened to reveal a very sleep-tussled and very confused Omega.
“Stiles?” Derek exclaimed from above and Stiles weakly lifted a hand, waving at his boyfriend with his pathetic bouquet and feeling equal parts mortified and desperately in love.
“What are you....what’s going on?” Derek asked, or at least Stiles thought that’s what he was asking, given the volume of the band behind him that had almost certainly woken up the entire Hale family by this point.
“It’s a love story, baby, just say yes-“
To Stiles’ right, the front-door opened.
“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone-“
“Arooooooooo!” Stiles heard, seconds before two massive paws slammed down on his shoulders and a wet tongue slobbered enthusiastic kisses all over his face.
Admittedly, Stiles had been hoping to end the night with a kiss, but since he was not trying to propose to the Hales adorable but very excitable Great Dane Susie, the proposal was currently going just like Stiles had been expecting.
Very, very badly.
Susie barked happily and pivoted around to lavish her attention on Derek, who had apparently forgotten he was pregnant and had just jumped out the window for the purpose of giving Stiles an incredulous expression up close.
For a brief moment, Stiles contemplated interrupting his truly magnificent proposal for a safety lecture about pregnancy-appropriate ways to leave a house.
Then again, Stiles had recently seen Peter’s wife go skydiving while heavily pregnant, so he figured his Omega’s window-jumping exercises were probably tame in comparison, though Stiles was definitely going to make a mental note about werewolf-proofing all of his windows at his earliest convenience.
He was a good Alpha that way.
“Stiles? What is this?”
Stiles shrugged helplessly, partly because Derek was never more adorable than when he was sleepy and utterly befuddled and partly because the band had just ended their Taylor Swift performance and moved on to a rather more clairvoyant piece of their repertoire.
“Baby, last night was hands down one of the best nights that I’ve had no doubt, between the bottle of wine and the look in your eyes-“
When his dad collected the parts of Stiles’ forever underage body that had survived Talia Hale’s vengeful carnage, Stiles hoped that someone would stress to him that there had most definitely been no drinking of wine, or any kind of alcohol involved in the conception of his grandbaby.
“Or if I never get to see the Eiffel Tower at night, oh if all I got is your hand in my hand, Baby I could die a happy man-”
Stiles highly doubted he was going to die a happy man, but Talia Hale had just stepped outside the house and so he figured he was about to find out.
“What is going on here?”
The agent of Stiles’ untimely demise was looking positively ethereal and terrifying as she swooped towards them in a silken bathrobe, her eyes still hazel but her expression thoroughly vexed as she regarded the spectacle in front of her.
“Hi Mrs. Hale” Scott waved awkwardly, bowing his neck just so to appease the Alpha werewolf who was currently staring at the bouquet in Stiles’ arms and the very conspicuous ringbox-sized bulge in his pocket and raising her eyebrows in a way that...
Stiles was not going to think about what he was pretty sure was an expression of helpless horror on his future mother-in-law’s face, deciding to focus on his still confused baby-Omega instead.
“All he could think about was I’m too young for this, got my whole life ahead, hell I’m just a kid myself, how I’m gonna raise one? All he could see were his dreams goin’ up in smoke-“
“Seriously?!” Stiles whined, whirling around to glare at the grinning members of the country band, who it turned out weren’t benevolent grandpas helping a young Alpha in trouble but rather hellish demons in a cowboy disguise, clearly intent on ruining Stiles’ hopes, dreams, and sanity through a trifecta of Taylor Swift, Thomas Rhett, and Kenny Chesney songs about unplanned parenthood.
“Aroooo!” Susie agreed with Stiles’ internal monologue, letting out another happy bark when Derek’s sisters Laura and Cora, his grandmother, and his uncle stumbled out of the house to bear further witness to the single most horrifying moment of Stiles’ life.
“What is this caterwauling all about?” Nana Hale asked, throwing a slightly annoyed but mostly curious glance at the band, and raising her eyebrows at Stiles.
“Anything you would like to share, Nephew dearest?” Derek’s Uncle Peter grinned, clearly having caught on to the theme of the band’s song selection and looking rather amused about it all, though Stiles couldn’t be sure if it was about Derek’s unplanned pregnancy, Stiles’ humiliation, or the fact that the entire Hale family was now looking at him like he’d been possessed by Elvis himself.
“Stiles?” Derek asked again, throwing a nervous glance at his uncle before giving Stiles a pleading expression, only to let out a loud gasp when Stiles exhaled sharply and dropped down on one knee.
“Derek Samuel Hale, you are the moon of my li-“
Derek was bright red as he dropped down to his knees as well, his expression begging Stiles to please shut up.
“But I wasn’t-“
Derek shook his head, looking a little desperate, a little steamrolled, and also like he was fighting hard to smile against his better knowledge.
“My answer is yes, alright? Just please don’t...no more music, okay?”
“Hold on one second!”
Talia Hale cleared her throat, her eyes still hazel but tinged with a rather threatening flash of red as she stepped forward and looked down at Stiles and his recently acquired fiancé, who was staring up at his mom petulantly and already flashing his eyes to Stiles’ simultaneous satisfaction and horror.
“I already said yes, Mom!” Derek exclaimed, getting up and tugging Stiles along as well, his hand grasping for Stiles’ and squeezing firmly as he turned to his mother.
“I’m not going to take it back!”
“Do you even know what you said yes to? Technically, he didn’t even ask you anything,” Laura commented, shaking her head and giving the two boys a look like she’d never seen a more pitiful sight.
“Also, country music? Seriously?”
“Don’t be rude, young lady,” Frank Bennett said primly from behind Stiles, clucking his tongue when Laura winced and had the good grace to look bashful for a second.
“The music was quite lovely,” Talia Hale politely assured the disgruntled looking country band, giving them a respectful nod before turning back to Stiles and looking quite the opposite.
“However, I’m afraid I don’t quite understand why Mr. Stilinski chose to randomly show up here with flowers, a ring, and a country band to...do what, exactly? You were trying to propose to my son, yes?”
“Shit, the ring!” Stiles exclaimed, hastily pulling the box out of his pocket and snaping it open with trembling fingers, only to drop the ring into the grass and let out growl worthy of a werewolf himself.
“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!”
“We really must talk about your life choices at your earliest convenience, Derek,” Peter commented drily, barely able to control his snickering when Derek huffed angrily and got down to look for the ring as well.
“This is really rather horrifying,” Cora narrated helpfully, and Stiles closed his eyes in agreement, reminding himself that Derek had already said yes and that werewolves did not believe in take-backsies.
Derek had said yes.
His Omega had said yes.
Suddenly, Stiles was feeling more than just a little overwhelmed.
He was happy, though.
Humiliated, terrified, but also achingly and exuberantly happy.
“I love you! I love you and our baby so much!”
“I love you, too,” Derek absentmindedly assured him, muttering to himself as he continued looking for the ring and letting out a pleased sound a moment later.
“Got it! Oh my god, Stiles, are you crazy? This must have cost a fortune, why did you...why is everyone staring at me?”
Derek glared at his family, who had all snapped to attention except for a still grinning Peter and were looking at him and Stiles with altering expressions of confusion and shock.
“Huh? What baby?”
Derek’s eyebrows had never been higher when his grandmother stepped forward and unceremoniously shoved her nose into the crook of his neck, only to pull back with a frown and a little shake of her head.
“No baby here,” she informed the rest of the Hales, and Stiles had a second to feel high-key offended at Derek’s family’s collective sigh of relief before his eyes widened at the realization of what Nana Hale had just said.
“What? No baby?”
“Oh god,” Scott groaned behind Stiles, just as Derek whirled towards him with wide eyes and a stunned expression.
“Wait! Wait, wait, wait!”
Stiles took a deep breath, closing his eyes to collect himself as his reality once again shifted and rearranged itself like the world’s most infuriating puzzle.
“Just so we’re a hundred percent perfectly clear on this. You’re not pregnant?”
“He’s not?” Arthur exclaimed from somewhere behind, but Stiles didn’t pay the band any attention, his gaze glued to Derek’s stunned and increasingly horrified expression.
“Pregnant? No!” Derek exclaimed, his cheeks once again bright red as he cast an anxious glance at his exasperated mother and grandmother.
“Why would you even think I was?”
“Why? WHY? Because you texted me, that’s why!”
“Did not!” Derek replied immediately, his eyes widening when Stiles hastily grabbed his phone out of his pocket and waved the incriminating evidence in his face.
“You did, see? You got prego! Just like I wanted! Which I didn’t, by the way! Just so we’re clear on that!”
“But that...oh god!” Derek groaned, his indignant expression giving way to mortified horror as he dragged a hand over his face.
“That wasn’t for you, Stiles! That was for Nana! I’m not pregnant, I promise, I just went and got some stupid spaghetti sauce!”
“Spaghetti sauce,” Stiles said flatly, casting a helpless glance up to the heavens and hoping fervently that there were, in fact, some aliens around to see this tragedy and whisk him away on their spaceship to perform experiments that were probably going to be a lot less unpleasant than figuring out how to look the Hales in the eyes after tonight.
“Also, why the hell would you ever think I’d tell you something like that over text! Do I look like Kelsey Kardashian to you?”
“Jeez, Derek! It’s Kourtney, Kim, Khloe, Kendall, and Kylie!” Laura groaned, shaking her head for what felt like the hundredth time and looking almost gleeful at the prospect of Stiles’ imminent death from humiliation.
“If we could get back to the whole proposal situation?”
Talia Hale had crossed her arms over her chest and was currently giving Stiles an unreadable look, her eyes still shimmering with the barest hint of red.
“Did you only propose to my son because you thought he was pregnant?”
“Mom!” Derek exclaimed, but even though he was mostly looking embarrassed as hell, Stiles definitely didn’t miss the uncertain little glance his boyfriend shot in his direction, as though his mother had just planted a seed of doubt in his mind that Stiles had only wanted to marry him for the baby and not because he thought that Derek was the most amazing thing that had ever happened in his life.
Clearly, Stiles couldn’t let his boyfriend think like that for even one second.
“I proposed to him because I love him!”
Stiles nodded determinedly and turned to Derek, grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a little shake.
“Your texting failure probably just cost me ten years of my life, but I love you, okay? I love you and I want to marry you and I definitely want to have kids with you! Not now! Just so we’re clear! Later though! Much later. When we both have great jobs, a house, a dog and your mother isn’t going to cut off my knot when we break the news!”
Derek was still blushing furiously, but he smiled, his eyes warm and fond as he let out a little huffed laugh.
“Well. I guess I just fell all over myself to say yes to you, so I guess I love you a whole lot, too.”
“That really wasn’t a proper proposal, though,” Nana Hale said critically, cocking her head and giving Stiles an unimpressed glance.
“Yeah well, my five-year plan got a little fast-tracked when a certain someone told me he was prego,” Stiles defended himself, though he couldn’t quite find the energy to stay offended at the sight of Derek smiling brighter than the sun.
“Five-year plan? You’ve been planning this?”
“Of course I have! I already picked out our kids’ names, too. Our future kids, just to reiterate! But yeah, I obviously started planning the moment you first kissed me! Did you seriously think I was going to let you go ever again? Wait...were you planning to let me go?”
“Not a chance,” Derek whispered, just before surging in and capturing Stiles’ lips in an attempt at a heated kiss, only to break away with a grimace at the realization that Stiles’ face was still smelling and probably tasting like dog.
It was the intent that mattered, though.
Stiles was going to cling to that as Laura, Cora, and Peter broke out in cackling laughter and even Talia Hale’s face twitched in amusement.
“Go wash your face, dear,” Nana Hale said calmly, looking like she, too, was just about to burst out laughing but had the good manners to wait until Stiles and his human ears were out of earshot.
“I’ll come, too,” Derek said immediately, grabbing Stiles’ hand and tugging him towards the house.
“I’m so sorry,” Stiles said miserably as Derek pushed him into the bathroom, but Derek shook his head, gently steering him towards the sink.
“Don’t be. This whole thing was kind of my fault, too.”
“Do you think your mom super-hates me right now?” Stiles groaned as he grabbed the mouthwash to gurgle for good measure, his eyes meeting Derek’s in the bathroom mirror as the werewolf let out a little laugh.
“Nah. I’m pretty sure she’s going to tell that story at our wedding though. In detail.”
“Marvelous,” Stiles grumbled, letting out a sigh as Derek turned him around and wrapped his arms around his shoulders.
“So. Are we really engaged now?” Derek asked and Stiles bit his lip, deliberating his answer for a moment.
“Honestly? I think I’d like a do-over. I really do love you a ridiculous amount and you deserve better than...well...whatever that was just now.”
“Hmmm,” Derek muttered contemplatively, narrowing his eyes, and giving Stiles a serious look.
“I think I can live with that under one condition. Promise me the next attempt won’t involve a country band? Or my entire family?”
Stiles snorted, framing Derek’s face, and pulling him in for a soft kiss.
“Yeah. I definitely promise.”
Eight Years Later
“We were both young when I first saw you, I close my eyes and the flashback starts. I’m standin’ there on a balcony in summer air, see the lights, she the party, see the ball gowns-“
“I know I promised that our next attempt at getting married wasn’t going to involve a country band, but you technically didn’t say anything about the actual wedding and the guys would have been heartbroken if I hadn’t asked them to play for us.”
Stiles gave Derek a sheepish grin as he leaned forward to steal another kiss, and his new husband smiled, his eyes sparkling in the light of the candles that surrounded the dance floor.
“I’m not complaining. After all, it really is a catchy song,” Derek said, his hand coming up to cup Stiles’ cheek as the Alpha pulled him in closer.
“Besides, your mother and Peter would have been heartbroken if they hadn’t gotten the chance to re-enact that disastrous first proposal during the speeches,” Stiles mused, turning to cast a fond look at his new mother-in-law, who had obviously overheard and raised her glass at him with a wink.
“That is very true,” Derek agreed, catching Stiles’ lips in another kiss before pulling back with a soft expression.
“It’s actually quite fitting though. All things considered.”
“Yeah? Why is that?” Stiles smiled, giving his Omega a curious glance only to let out a soft gasp when Derek’s lips stretched into a beaming smile as he guided Stiles’ hand down and gently placed it against his abdomen.
“I got prego. Just like you wanted.”