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When the Sheriff came home all he wanted to do was go upstairs and sleep for weeks. He'd had a long day at work and between a new case and a new cop to keep an eye on he had been completely run down. When he got upstairs though he decided to check on Stiles. He both hoped his boy wasn't awake, as Stiles didn't get enough sleep as it was, and hoped that he was so that they could talk about how it went. Stiles had been really unsure about telling the rest of his Pack and it had taken a lot of coaxing on everyone who knew's part before he finally agreed. It hadn't taken too long.

Noah wanted to know how it went and how everyone reacted, especially Scott, so he knew he'd made the right decision in telling his kid that they would love him no matter what. More importantly, he wanted to make sure that Stiles was okay. But he also knew that telling the truth to the people you love was sometimes more crucial than how you think they'll react. Knowing he helped Stiles be confident enough to tell such a big thing to people that meant so much to him made him happy. What made him fill with pride was the fact that Stiles had been brave and strong enough to do such a thing.

He wasn't particularly fond of the fact that Derek had helped talk him into telling his Pack. In fact, he just wasn't particularly fond of Derek in general. The way he looked at Stiles and the way he just sort of lingered, quietly whilst he did so, not to mention the way he acted so... different around him, it was unnerving. He was also so much older than Stiles. That and the fact that Noah had once had to arrest the younger man on suspicion of murder. Although Stiles had cleared all that up, he still got an odd feeling about him sometimes.

He shook his head as he knocked gently on Stiles' door and, after getting no response, pushed it open to peek in. Stiles was half sprawled over someone. Noah peered at the man, it took a moment for him to realise that it was Derek. The revelation caused him to pull the door shut quickly. An onslaught of questions filling his mind: why was his son sleeping on top of Derek Hale? Hell, had Derek finally asked him out or was it a Pack thing? If it was a Pack thing where was the rest of The Pack? Had it not gone well? No, because Lydia would be there. Maybe Stiles just needed some comfort or maybe he'd backed out entirely.

But what if it was that he and Derek were dating? He wasn't sure how he would feel about that. Maybe he'd be fine with it, maybe he wouldn't. It's not like Derek was a particularly safe person, he wasn't explicitly dangerous either but he had the potential to be. But Noah knew better than anyone – being a sheriff and all – that anyone and everyone had the potential to be dangerous so he couldn't live his life scared of everyone his boy would date.

That thought didn't stop him from worrying though. That was his job – to worry. He always had and always would. And it wasn't like the idea of Derek being a bad guy was completely ludicrous; he had, after all, dragged Stiles and the rest of his Pack into trouble before. Granted that was, apparently, because of his inability to listen despite his superior sense.

He knew, though, it didn't matter what he thought because Stiles wouldn't listen to him. The last thing he wanted was to get into an argument with his kid over his maybe-boyfriend. It was better for everyone if the two Stilinski men stuck together, as if he was right, and Derek ended up hurting Stiles, he would need to be there. And if he was wrong (as he hoped he was) then he wouldn't want to be pushed out of Stiles' life because he fucked up.

He sighed, annoyed and wishing even more than he had in a long time, that Claudia was there to help out. She would've known exactly what to do and if Noah was right. She had always been an excellent judge of character.

He went to bed that night head swimming with questions that would have to wait until morning and extremely glad that he didn't have a shift until after lunch tomorrow.

*****

Stiles woke up, head lying on something that was definitely not his pillow. Lifting a hand, he ran it along the thing feeling it shift and flex under his fingertips. A low groan sounded above him and that's when he remembered last night and, in addition to that, he remembered Scott.

"Stiles?" Arms tightened around his waist as the deep, sleep-rough voice rumbled in Derek's chest. The young vamp looked up at his night's "pillow", forgetting, momentarily, what had happened yesterday, and giggled in a way that sounded both childish and awkward. A slight heat crept under the skin of his cheeks – vampires can blush? – so he buried his face in Derek's chest. "Hi," A deep chuckle tumbled past Derek's lips, the sound resonating within Stiles.

"Hi," Stiles said back before pulling himself off of Derek – it was harder than he had anticipated, almost as if he was being pulled back down by a force stronger than gravity. He shook it off and grabbed some clean clothes, mumbling that if Derek could find anything that fit, he could wear it before heading to the bathroom to change.

After he came out, he and Derek went downstairs (Derek now clad in one of his larger shirts) to have breakfast. Stiles rambled on and on trying to ignore the persistent, unpleasant tugging on his heart – a constant reminder of what had happened yesterday.

To his surprise, his dad was seated at the table, three full plates laid around the table almost as if... well, shit. "Hey!" Stiles beamed to cover his slight uncomfortable shift.

"Hi, kid." Noah paused as if unsure what to say next, but Stiles didn't doubt that he had thought over exactly what he wanted to say hundreds of times, judging by the bags under his eyes that were a bit too big to have just been caused by a late shift. "I would ask you what happened yesterday," Stiles felt Derek's presence behind him and knew that the man was trying to show him some form of comfort. "But I think I'd like to start with why Derek Hale was in your room last night." When neither said anything for a beat too long the Sheriff went on, "Look, if you two are dating, I'm okay with that but I would like to warn you, Derek, that if you hurt Stiles--" Stiles' eyes had grown wide as his dad continued to speak, Derek going tense behind him.

If Stiles was honest with himself, he'd never really let himself even think about dating Derek. It just wasn't in any realm of possibility. He hadn't even thought Derek liked him enough to be his friend until a few days ago, so the idea of dating him? It was absurd! But Stiles also wasn't blind. He'd noticed the ever so slight scent of sour disappointment on the man when Stiles had agreed to be friends and the fact that Derek was always aware of him, never bothered by him despite what others might think, always gentle. Even when shoving him against walls. He hadn't missed the way Derek had been there, right behind him when he needed him to be. Hadn't missed the obvious tension that had grown between them at his father's words.

But he'd chalked that all down to Derek being a better guy than he had initially thought or him imagining things. He'd never thought it meant anything, never thought he would feel anything other than platonic feelings for the guy but now he was second-guessing everything. From the way he'd so desperately wanted Derek's approval of him, having it be a big arguing point against telling The Pack, to the pull he'd felt this morning. It would make sense. Maybe it didn't, though. Maybe he was thinking too much into this. Maybe he was deluding himself. But maybe... just maybe, he wasn't.

Either way, it didn't matter right now (well it did, but he didn't want to think about while both Derek and his dad were in the room). Right now what mattered was the fact that his dad was about to threaten Derek for something that hadn't happened. Or was never going to happen. So he stopped him, limbs flailing in a way only he could manage despite his newly found vampire grace, voice tumbling over itself in a desperate attempt to reach and ultimately draw his dad's words to an abrupt halt before it was too late.

Once his dad had stopped, Stiles said, "It's not like that, dad, we were just talking and I umm... kinda fell asleep, on him?" He cursed his voice for failing him, drastically, twisting his words into a question.

"Right, sure."

"I'm not lying!" Stiles squawked, indignantly, at his father's sarcastic tone.

"He's not, sir." Derek tried to back him up while he moved forward to stand next to Stiles. Though with the way he leaned towards the younger boy it wasn't a very strong case.

The Sheriff rolled his eyes, "Whatever you say, son. So, how did it go yesterday?" He gestured towards two empty chairs and they both sat, Stiles glad to do so as he felt his knees go weak.

"Okay?" He really needed to get better at not sounding like he was questioning everything while under pressure.

"Who do I need to kill?" Of course, his dad knew, he always did.

When Stiles' voice caught in his throat, tugging and tearing, feeling as sharp as needles on his tongue, Derek took over, "Scott, and possibly Kira. Depending on how much you like Isaac." Noah raised an eyebrow.

"Scott, as in, Stiles' best friend Scott?" They both nodded at that, Stiles' head feeling like a lead weight on his neck as he did so; thinking about yesterday was overwhelming. "But, why?" The concern in his eyes was strong, scary, palpable in a way that seemed too much for one man. And when Stiles and Derek explained what had happened the night before, the concern bent, almost mutating, into anger. Pure, solid anger. And when they went on to tell him what Scott had done to Isaac, he'd thrown his chair back, standing up to pace in a way that reminded Stiles of himself.

There was so much to unpack in his scent, it was frustrating. Rage, being the main one but lying just underneath that was disappointment at Scott, Stiles knew, who had been something akin to another son for the man. And there was sadness at losing the boy, confusion as to why he would do that and something Stiles could not work out. Something bitter-sweet, almost like the sharp taste of liquorice.

Noah tried to start a sentence, got two syllables in and then trailed off. "I am going to kill him. I'm going to kill him!" finally burst from him and before either of the still-seated supernaturals had a chance to stop him, Noah was out the door, yanking his shoes on with abject gracelessness and jumping into his cruiser.

"Well... that went well." Derek hummed in agreement, still staring out the window.