Chapter Text
If there was an award for grumpiest Prince, Derek Hale would be leading the parade down Gloomy Street and Scowl Avenue with a trophy the price of Stiles' future tuition. Though, Stiles thought, if you had to be in the Prince Protection Program, you'd be Mr. Grumpy too.
“Stiles, if I come up there and you don't even have pants on, I will tell Derek Hale that you peed your bed until you were 7.” Stiles panics immediately.
It's only then that Stiles Stilinski, who is most definitely not a prince, realizes he is only wearing boxers. So, of course, he finds sweatpants to put on. What he doesn't realize until a few seconds later is that his headphones are, in fact, still on his head. Well, more like on his face now. “Derek, this is my pride and jo- Oh dear lord.” One hand on his hip, other hand acting like an embarrassment visor, like that will save him from this scene. (Spoiler alert: It wont. At all.)
The stage is set. Stiles' stands in the center stage, lights on him and blinds drawn. Moans are emitting from his laptop speakers as he stands in his boxers, mouth open and drawing out 'uhhhhhh' like that will make up an excuse for whats happening. When he pulls his gaze away from a very disappointed dad, it falls onto the stranger next to him. The muscled, dark, stranger with eyes that almost made him cry. Or maybe he's crying because a prince walked in on him watching porn. He wishes he turned it away from the door, but that was almost impossible since the whole headphone fiasco turning it halfway between Stiles and his new guests. The young man on the screen is very apparent.
Also apparent is the veined dick in his mouth.
Haha. Time to cry and plead forgiveness.
“I don't know how you want me to explain this with him here.” A huff left Stiles' mouth after he said that, eyes flipping between the two in front of him. He couldn't say Derek's mouth was a fine line, just because of the fact that his lips are too luscious to be considered a fine line. The only fine line in the room was the fine line between Stiles and the window he was planning on jumping out of.
Derek's eyes only left Stiles once, and that was to look at the computer screen. And as for John. He looked pointedly over to the laptop before Stiles caught on. “Right, okay, yeah I got it dad. Right-” Stiles leaned over his laptop to shield everybody's eyes from the very hard face fucking going on right now while he slammed the computer shut.
When he turned back Derek and his dad were facing each other while Derek looked like he was communicating with his eyebrows.
“This is my son Stiles. No longer my pride and joy.” And with that, he left Stiles and Derek to stand staring at each other as he left down the stairs.
“Hey there...” He gave a wave, while the other hand rubbed at his neck. Great. This is his life. Derek just nods before he follows the Sheriff. “Great talk!” Stiles yells after him
Not exactly how he thought this would go, but then again he doesn't think it could have gone any better. Only worse. Downhill right into the pits of hell. It takes a second to understand that, this is literally his life. Hiding princes in his house and getting caught almost masturbating by his dad. Oh yeah, can't forget the hot prince right next to him. Yay.
Just have to survive a year of this.
It's gonna be the best year ever.
This is gonna be the worst year ever oh my god how does this even happen.
An hour into 'Sir Hale' being here, all 3 of them are sitting at the table not looking at each other and picking at their food. The air is tense with awkwardness and 'You killed my boner by walking in but then again it may have came back when I saw your face.' Stiles isn't sure if that's actually in the air but it's a good guess.
“Look Stiles-” Oh no. Father is talking. This is bad, Stiles thinks.
“Dad, please don't. I would like to enjoy my food without a second and revised version of the birds and the bees, with a sticker slapped on the front that says 'LGBT version'. And as much as I love talking to you both, Scott just texted me to ignore any awkward conversations for fear of anything supernatural hiding behind it. So, if you could be so kind to let me walk away from here before I cry.” Stiles begged. And if he could beg anymore, he'd be praying.
Well, that was a mouthful he didn't know he could spout. And if it could get any worse it just did, mostly because Prince Eyebrows over there opened his mouth more than an inch and, surprise surprise, TALKED.
“Supernatural?” Derek looked between Stiles and his father. Well, one word is progress.
“Uh, yeah. Supernatural. That is what I said and I'm wishing I didn't right now. Does the terrifying and unnerving-ness scare you, big guy?”
“Stiles.” First warning. He gets 2 more before anything happens, right?
“Yes father dearest?” Stiles leaned on his elbows towards his father, while the sheriff stared back as Stiles went for the innocent look, batting eyelashes and pulling his lip into his mouth to feign the little kid look.
“Please don't call him 'big guy'. Everyone is bigger than you. You look like you would be 140 pounds soaking wet.” His dad slid the newspaper over to Stiles to finish off this great breakfast and to wash his plate in the sink, leaving Stiles and Derek alone for the second time.
“Ahem. Whatever. I don't even know why you give me this, you just tell me what happens at your work. Remember. You being the sheriff and all. And I should be able to call him what I want. The whole idea of this thing is to make people think he's not actually a prince right?” There’s a shrug from Stiles and a half glare from his dad before he resumes washing the dishes.There is no answer. “Alright. I get it. Hard working man gotta scrub at them dishes. I respect that. What I do not respect is a guy as muscle-y as you is scared of a couple of ghosts or vampires.” When he turns to look back at Derek, he's giving him a bonafide glare unlike his dad.
“I'm not scared of the supernatural. Actually, I'm more interested in it than you would think.” The glare turns into a lazy (charming) smirk as Derek leans forward on his elbows, palm under his chin.
Stiles nods and stands up with his plate. “Uh huh, I'm sure you are. Be sure to wear a diaper before going into the haunted house, man. Besides, you could never surpass me in the level of interest I have in supernatural shit going down. Booyah!” He pointedly ignores the look his dad gives him as he shoves his plate into the sink in front of him without washing it.
“You're cleaning that up later, you know that right?” The sheriff asked as he shut off the water, leaving the forbidden plate in the sink.
“Just let me have this moment of defiance and coolness before he remembers he walked in on me watching gay porn.”