AU: Stiles and Derek are married, and they have three adopted children- Erica, Isaac, and Boyd.
Someone is stepping on his face.
That’s the first coherent thought in Stiles’ head when his eyes pop open, his body stiffening in surprise. He hears a soft little voice say, “Sorry, sorry, Papa.” A deep, rumbling chuckle follows after that, before Derek says calmly, “It’s not me you should be apologizing to. You stepped on your daddy’s face. It’s just a good thing you didn’t wake him.”
“I’m up, I’m up.”
Stiles sits up in the bed, yawning and turning his body, one eyebrow raising when he looks down at the little scene in front of him. Derek is leaning casually against the headboard cradling Isaac and Erica at his chest, Boyd curled up like a kitten on his thighs. When they realize Stiles is awake, though, Erica immediately lunges into his lap, stepping on both of her brothers to get to him.
Her tiny hands grip him tightly, like she’s trying to dig her fingers into his chest, and he’s about to ask her what’s wrong when thunder booms outside. Isaac whimpers pathetically, pulling the blanket around himself, wiggling his head so it’s pushed up against Derek’s stomach. The yank of the blanket sends Boyd flopping onto the floor and when he comes up he’s huffing, muttering something about stupid babies. It doesn’t stop him from crawling in between Derek and Stiles, his head on Stiles’ shoulder, his legs underneath him.
“Babies, we talked about this. The thunder can’t hurt you. The rain and the lightning can’t get you as long as you’re inside. There’s no reason to be scared.”
Erica makes an exacerbated noise, putting her hands on either side of his face, to look him dead in the eye. She’s started doing this lately, when she’s trying to make a point. He thinks it’s because it’s what Derek does, pinning people with those big blues of his and getting them to pay attention. And normally it’s a lot stickier than this, but apparently between her bath before bed and now, she hasn’t managed to get into anything.
“Daddy. Daddy, no. I heard something outside my window.”
Stiles shoots a look at Derek, but the older male shakes his head and Stiles sighs, wrapping his arms around the little girl’s waist. “Well, of course you can stay with us, then. You know Daddy and Papa would never let anything happen to you guys.”
Boyd, who has been trying very hard to be the big, mature five year old in this situation, happily pulls the blankets over himself and rolls over onto his stomach. His head pushes against the headboard, curling in on himself, so he’s back in that strange catlike position. Stiles doesn’t understand why he does that, but he’s always done it. Since the day that they picked him up three years ago, and brought him home.
Isaac peeks up at Stiles through his thick black lashes, moving his head so he can stare at him. “Thank you, daddy.” His voice is so soft. Between the twins, Erica and Isaac, Isaac has always been the more gentle of the two. And it’s weird, the way that he clings to Derek the way that he does. Stiles knows his son loves him, but he also knows he doesn’t love him like he loves Derek. When the older male leaves for work in the morning, Isaac is beside himself. He watches the door through the entire day, and when he hears the Camaro pull into the driveway, there’s no stopping him from running into the yard and clinging to his papa’s legs, demanding to be held for the rest of the evening.
“You’re welcome. Now, go to sleep. You know papa has to be up early for work.”
He looks up at Derek to find that the male is still staring him, and he flushes, swatting at his arm and leaning to turn the light off. He lies back on his back, running his fingers up and down Erica’s back soothingly as the storm wages on around them. On the other side of Boyd, Derek rolls over onto his side, slinging an arm around both of his boys. He leans across the void long enough to kiss Stiles on the mouth.
They both lie there, awake, until the last of the little ones has drifted off to sleep. Only then do they twine their fingers over Boyd’s head and allow themselves to close their eyes.