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The sound of the dryer buzzing was dampened by distance but still loud enough to make Stiles groan in defeat. He was willing to admit that, while having been hesitant to watch The Lion King again, he was just starting to get into it. That wasn’t hard to do when he had Harley curled up in his lap, sucking her thumb (despite Stiles having told her not to multiple times just in the past 30 minutes) and Pamela stretched out across the other half of the couch with her small toes pressing into his leg. He loved these moments with his daughters the most. Mostly because they weren’t running around, chattering on incessantly until he physically had to slap a hand over each of their mouths.

(Stiles’ father always laughed at him shamelessly when he complained. “Where do you think they got it from?” “We don’t even have the same genes!”)

No matter how much he was enjoying the down time though, he had to be a responsible adult and actually do household chores while he had the time. With a sigh, he scooped Harley into his arms and gently placed her on the couch cushion he’d just been sitting on where she immediately snuggled up to her sister. Stiles smiled a bit at the display. He had to convince himself once more to leave them so he could finish laundry.

Before heading to the laundry room, Stiles popped the tray of chicken nuggets he’d prepared earlier into the now preheated oven, setting the timer for 11 minutes. He took a moment to glare at the staircase before resigning himself to actually having to go up them.

Trudging upstairs as slow as he possibly could was admittedly, probably not the best solution but he hated laundry. Not that it was even too difficult or particularly time consuming. It was just boring as hell and so damn repetitive. He’d rather scrub the shower out for a good hour with nothing but a toothbrush (something he’d actually done before the first time Pamela’s adoption agent had come to their home).

Stiles was surprised to see the laundry room door already open when he got to the top of the stairs, soft yellow light trickling out onto beige carpet.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked softly, watching as Derek grabbed a small purple blouse out of the dryer and folded it carefully before placing it in the basket. His husband looked up and shrugged.

“You guys looked comfy down there. Thought I’d give you a break,” Derek said easily.

Stiles bit back a grin, stepping forward and grabbing Derek’s hand before he could pick up any other pieces of clothing.

“I thought you had ‘mountains of paperwork’ to do for Dad?” Stiles voice was teasing, a single eyebrow raised in a familiar goading expression.

“Like I said. You looked comfy,” Derek answered with a roll of his eyes. “5 minutes folding laundry isn’t going to hurt.”

Stiles licked his lips and grinned.

“What about 10 minutes?”

Derek’s frown caused his bushy brows to lower dangerously over his eyes, expression adorably confused until Stiles leaned forward, pressing them chest to chest, and began kissing at Derek’s neck. Big hands immediately found their way to Stiles’ waist, fingers tightening just a bit on his t-shirt.

“Only 10 minutes?” he murmured, head lolling a bit to the side to give Stiles’ better access.

“I’ve got chicken nuggets in the oven,” Stiles said simply and Derek pursed his lips in an attempt to hold in laughter.


Stiles grinned and winked at him before abruptly sliding a hand down Derek’s chest to start unbuttoning his jeans. Derek’s eyes widened a bit in surprise though his hands clenched harder at Stiles’ hips.

“You really wanna do this here?” he whispered, inching to the side. He pushed the door of the laundry room closed despite his words, burying his face in Stiles’ shoulder.

“Why not?” Stiles said back just as quietly. “I think this might be the only room in the house we haven’t christened.”

Derek snorted then gasped as Stiles’ palm pressed against his rapidly filling erection through his boxers.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he hissed. He fell back against the dryer with a thump as Stiles stepped farther into his space, pressing fleeting kisses along Derek’s jaw and nibbling at his earlobe.

“We’ll make it a quickie.”

Then Stiles was kissing him firmly, preventing Derek from protesting anymore though he wouldn’t have been able to think of any other remonstrations with the way Stiles was slowly rubbing him, slipping nimble fingers over the hem of his boxers to slide them down teasingly. He followed their path, falling to his knees and immediately nuzzling into the crease where thigh met groin. Derek let his hands fall to Stiles’ scalp, fingers running though the soft brown hair there with a gentleness that Stiles reveled in. It was one of his favorite things about Derek. Despite the man’s bulky appearance, Derek was one of the biggest softies Stiles had ever met.

Knowing their time limit was probably down to about 7 minutes now, Stiles didn’t waste any time taking Derek into his mouth and sucking hard, eliciting a loud groan from Derek, who quickly muffled it with his forearm. Stiles felt him harden against his tongue and was barely able to stop himself from grinning around his mouthful.

“God, Stiles,” Derek hissed, clenching at Stiles’ hair with one hand while he used the other to balance himself against the dryer. Stiles didn’t slow down, bobbing quick and sloppy, the best way to get Derek off as fast as possible. He could tell it’d been a while since he’d blown Derek because his jaw was already getting achy after just a couple minutes. That was a damn shame. He made a mental note to wake Derek up later this week with long, drawn out blow job before work.

Bringing a hand up, Stiles wrapped fingers snuggly around the base of Derek’s cock, stroking just a bit to make up for what his mouth couldn’t reach. Despite the relatively small amount of stimulation, Derek nearly doubled over with the sensation, curling around Stiles’ head with a small gasp and what sounded suspiciously like a whimper. Stiles felt heat trail through his gut at the reaction.

“Stiles, wai—” Derek cut off with a sharp inhale before he was physically dragging Stiles up by his shoulders and foregoing words altogether.

He slammed their mouths together, too rough to be a real kiss but Stiles responded with the same fervor anyways, trying to undo his pants with shaking fingers with little success. Derek took over for him, getting the job down in a couple smooth strokes and then his warm hand was around Stiles’ dick and Stiles nearly collapsed at the relief he was finally getting. He was already leaking precome, almost as much as Derek, just from giving a blowjob. Stiles was finding it hard to be embarrassed about that though when it helped to easily slick the way as Derek lined them up and began stroking them together.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, falling against Derek’s chest. He took advantage of the position by nibbling at the tendon on the side of Derek’s neck.

“Don’t mark me,” Derek panted into his ear, despite knowing that he could easily let the marks fade away instead of holding back his healing.

“Thought you liked it whe—fuck—when I mark you?” Stiles shot back.

“You explain that to your father when I go into work tomorrow.”

Stiles groaned, immediately turning away from Derek’s neck to nuzzle into his shoulder instead.

“Did you have to mention my dad?” he said. “Just let them heal, Der—”

He cut off then, incapable of speech as Derek twisted his wrist in a way that brushed both their sensitive heads together slickly. They moaned simultaneously, pushing even closer to each other as he sped up his movements.

“Shit, Der,” Stiles whimpered. “I’m close. Oh god. I’m so close.”

“Me too,” Derek grunted.

His shoulders tensed beneath where Stiles was now clutching at him with almost bruising force. Despite Derek’s request, he bit into Derek’s shoulder as he felt the heat in his stomach explode outward, muffling his loud groan as he came all over Derek’s hand. Derek’s breathe hitched, hand speeding up for just a few more strokes and tipped over the edge while Stiles was still riding out his orgasm. They took a moment to pant wetly against each other’s skin. Stiles ran gentle hands over Derek’s chest, his shoulders, and up his neck until he could curl his fingers into the short hairs at the base of Derek’s neck, scratching his scalp lightly.

“We need to find time to do that more often,” Stiles breathed softly and Derek huffed a small laugh.

“Yeah,” he answered dumbly.

He let his clean hand rub at Stiles’ lower back soothingly as they caught their breath, enjoying the silence of the laundry room, even if only just for a moment.


“Oh no,” Stiles groaned.

“Daddy, the dinosaurs!”

Stiles frowned for a minute and then gasped, pulling abruptly away from a confused Derek. He snatched a clean towel from the dryer, using it to haphazardly clean himself up before throwing it at Derek’s chest and tucking himself back in his jeans.

“What dinosaurs?” Derek asked faintly, just barely catching the towel before it could fall.

“The dinosaurs, Derek!” Stiles said frantically and then he was gone, racing down the stairs as fast as he could.

As he reached the first floor, Stiles could hear the sound of the timer beeping and quickened his pace until he was slipping into the kitchen on socked feet, nearly braining himself on the tile in his haste to get to the oven. Pamela and Harley watched him with amusement, attempting to hide their giggles behind their hands not so successfully. They were about as subtle as Stiles—A.K.A. not at all.

Stiles threw open the oven door and pulled out the two trays of chicken nuggets with one of their specialty wolf shaped oven mitts that he’d bought Derek as a housewarming gift when they first moved into the house (Derek had not been amused). He reached for the timer and clicked it off, as well as the oven and then sighed heavily, falling against the counter dramatically. His daughters continued to giggle at him from the doorway.

“What are you guys laughing at?” he asked with a teasing scowl.

Harley, ever the more serious of the two, gathered herself and stood on her toes in an attempt to see her precious afternoon snack.

“Are the dinosaurs okay, Daddy?” she asked innocently.

Stiles rolled his eyes but couldn’t refrain from smiling. “Yes the dinosaurs are safe. Why don’t you two get cleaned up and then we’ll eat?”

The two girls grinned happily before running off down the hallway to wash up in the bathroom. Stiles took the chance to do the same, quickly darting upstairs to swish a bit of mouthwash around his mouth and scrub his hands. There wasn’t much more he could do for the state of his boxers (the towel really hadn’t cleaned much of anything) but he knew if he spent too long up there, the girls would come complaining and that was a situation he wanted to avoid at all costs.

It wasn’t until he returned downstairs that he realized it didn’t matter because Derek was already there, cutting up carrots and celery to add to the girl’s plates while they chattered away happily at the breakfast bar. He looked a lot more composed than Stiles had when he first saw himself in the mirror, no doubt having already fixed himself up before he came downstairs. Stiles couldn’t help from walking up behind him and wrapping his arms around Derek’s middle, nosing at the nape of his neck.

“Dinosaurs, huh?” Derek muttered quietly with an amused smile as he continued to chop.

Stiles narrowed his eyes before realizing Derek couldn’t see and pinched the man’s side instead. Derek jerked, then turned to glare.

“I have a knife,” he said with a pointedly raised brow.

“You’ll heal,” Stiles shrugged. He snagged a piece of baby carrot and popped it in his mouth as he leaned away, propping himself against the kitchen island with crossed arms and a smirk. Derek flashed his beta eyes playfully.

Stiles went about dividing the chicken nuggets up between two plates, taking the liberty to steal one or two for himself much to his daughters’ displeasure, and let Derek scoop the veggies on there as well once he’d finished cutting them up. He placed the plates in front of Harley and Pamela with a dramatic flourish that had them smiling and Derek snorting.

Derek was just finishing up rinsing off the dishes when Stiles ambled back over and snuggled into his side. He lifted his arm almost automatically to rest across Stiles’ shoulders and pulled him closer, pressing a kiss into the soft hair at the top of his head as Stiles hummed contentedly.

“Next time, we should probably plan a little better,” Stiles muttered into Derek’s jaw where he had turned to snuggle into.

“I thought the whole point was to be spontaneous?” Derek said back.

Stiles snorted, shaking his head in amusement.

“How about…” Derek trailed off in order to spin Stiles so they were facing and pressing their foreheads together. “…we ask Scott and Allison to take the girls this Saturday and we spend the day together. Just us.”

Stiles’ eyebrows lifted as he fought back a smile, simply replying with a small ‘mmm’ noise.

“And we can have a nice dinner…”


“And maybe open that bottle of wine Lydia bought us for our anniversary last month…”

“Ooh, nice.”

“And then I’ll spend the rest of the night teasing—”


Derek cut himself off with a choked off noise, cheeks filling quickly with a light blush (though his ears lit up bright red as always—something that never failed to make Stiles’ stomach flip) as he took a step back from Stiles guiltily. Stiles wanted to laugh at the display but he was in much the same state. They’d both lost themselves for a moment there and forgot they weren’t exactly alone.

“Yeah, honey?” Derek said, stepping over to Pamela.

“Can me and Harley go outside? We finished eating!”

She bounced in her seat excitedly. Harley took her sister’s words as her cue to flash the innocent puppy dog eyes that she’d perfected from spending one too many nights at Scott’s house. Stiles tried to muffle his laughter behind his palm.

Derek narrowed his eyes at the two girls for a long moment, long enough to make Pamela start to squirm in her seat under the weight of his gaze. Unfortunately, Harley was a pro at this. She wasn’t about to give up that easily. Soon, Derek felt himself crumbling under her persistent wide-eyed stare.

“Stay within sight of the window,” he sighed, dejectedly.

The girls squealed in unison and he winced at the high-pitch as they practically tripped over themselves to get out the back door.

“You’re such a pushover,” Stiles laughed, grabbing their plates to clean at the sink.

Derek was always like this. He gave in far too easily to their daughters on numerous (and quite memorable) occasions. Stiles couldn’t be bothered with it though because he’d do anything for the two little girls in order to make them happy. Maybe they spoiled them a bit too much.

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek murmured.

He stepped up behind Stiles to embrace him with a gentle press of his lips to Stiles’ neck, a reversed copy of their position from just minutes before.

“I love you,” he said against the warm skin of Stiles’ neck.

Stiles couldn’t have stopped the grin that overtook him even if he’d tried. He leaned back against his husband with a content sigh.

“Love you, too,” he whispered.

Derek squeezed his waist gently as they both turned their attention to the window over the sink where they watched Harley and Pamela giggle and chase each other around the backyard. He really couldn’t think of a better way to spend an afternoon with his family.

His pack.