Stiles had been taking contraceptive suppressants since he hit puberty. They lessened impact of his heat and made sure he couldn't get pregnant (not that that second part had been an issue until he and Derek had gotten together). The suppressants really did provide a good service, and Stiles appreciated them. Mostly.
What he didn't appreciate was how dizzy and nauseated he got an hour after taking each pill. He had learned to only eat bread before taking the pill and to make sure he was near a soft surface. He didn't complain (which was difficult for him because he was the master at making sure everyone around him was as miserable as he was) until one day. He needed to go to the doctor to get a checkup in order to renew his suppressant prescription, and dammit he didn't want to.
"Ugh!" he announced as he looked over the letter from the omega clinic. He hated exams. He hated doctors. He hated choking down those damn pills!
"What did you do?" Derek inquired, his voice floating out from the living room.
Stiles snorted, because it was always 'what did you do?' and never 'what's wrong?' because everything was always Stiles's fault. He walked into the living room, waving the letter at his mate of four years now. "It's time for my yearly exam."
"So?" Derek asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"Sooooo," Stiles whined, folding the letter back up and stuffing it back in the envelope. "I don't exactly enjoy having a speculum in my ass and getting my cervix scraped." He took a second to enjoy his mate's horrified expression before he went on. "Furthermore I have to get a new suppressant prescription and I hate those damn pills so much."
"You do?" Derek asked.
"Duh!" he said, wishing his mate could just telepathically know his thoughts and feelings like bonded people in dime store romance novels. "Not only do they make me sick after I take them, but during my heat it feels like my head's wrapped in cotton. I can feel things but I can't—I dunno—feel things." He waved a hand, knowing he wasn't articulating his point very well.
"Why haven't you told me this before?" Derek moved to the edge of the couch, lifting a hand toward Stiles with his face so concerned that Stiles had to go to him.
"I don't know," Stiles said, fitting himself into his mate's lap and taking his hand to toy with his fingers. "I've been taking them for so long that I guess I've just gotten used to them. But I really hate them."
Derek laced his fingers with Stiles's and nudged his jaw with his nose. "Then stop taking them." Stiles went still, blinking. Did that mean what he thought it meant? He looked at Derek's face, finding it just as unreadable as always.
"Yeah?" He and Derek had talked about children in passing, but they had never had a serious conversation about the subject. Was this Derek telling him he was ready to start a family?
"Yes," Derek said, before he kissed Stiles's lips gently, causing his heart to do gymnastics in his chest. "If you hate them, don't take them. I don't want you to be unhappy."
"I'm not unhappy," Stiles said, wrapping his arms around his mate's neck. He felt ready to go skip through a field of Spring flowers.
"Good. You still have to go have the exam though."
Stiles dropped his head back with a loud groan.
Stiles was anticipating his next heat like he had never anticipated anything ever in his lifetime. Nothing compared to it, not his first lacrosse game, his first day of college, or even the first time he and Derek had kissed (though that last one was a close second). No, this was entirely different. This marked a whole new chapter in his life—or maybe even a whole new book in the series that was his life. Everything else was the past. And the future was now!
Stiles wanted to make everything was perfect. In the couple days before his heat set in, he could feel it tugging at his insides. So he bought a nice bottle of wine and ordered some Italian on the night he was sure it was going to take him over. He would have cooked but all he could really manage was pancakes and grilled cheese, and that didn't scream romantic. Derek was really the chef in their relationship, which was the subject of amusement for some of their bonded friends. Omegas were the homemakers, right? In their relationship, not so much.
Stiles had the table mostly set when he heard Derek come in, and he listened to him come through the entryway as he looked his setup over.
"Oh wait! Don't look yet!" he cried as Derek came into the room and Stiles noticed he hadn't lit the candles. He shuffled through a drawer, looking for a lighter before he got the red candles lit and looked over to see Derek with one hand over his eyes. He snorted. "Okay, you can look."
Derek spread his fingers to peek through them before dropping his hand. "What's all this?" he asked, smiling as he moved over while he removed his leather jacket.
"I wanted tonight to be special," Stiles said.
"Special?" Derek echoed, before he leaned in to kiss Stiles's lips. He blinked, before his eyes went half lidded and he went to take a deep breath of Stiles's scent, his nose pressed just below his ear. "I see," he said, and it came out as a growl.
Stiles shivered, ready to say 'Fuck the food, sex marathon time is now,' but then he wanted the thrill of the anticipation. Also he had a feeling all he would be eating for the next few days would be bottled water and power bars, so he wanted a good meal while he had the mindset to do so.
The food was good, but what was even better was that Stiles was able to entice his mate into a game of footsie that ended with his bare feet trapped under Derek's socked ones. He could feel his body reacting to the smell of his mate, his skin practically reaching out for his touch. He chewed on a garlic knot, nearly moaning at the feel of things low in him clenching with palpable arousal.
He heard Derek's fork scrape across his plate and looked up, finding him staring with a red sheen to his eyes. His nostrils flared, and a low growl started up in his chest. "Your scent..." he started, but he couldn't seem to find the words for it. "This is so much more powerful than all the other times."
"You're telling me," Stiles said as he shifted, slick sliding out of him to coat the cleft of his ass. He was burning up, all of his senses hyper aware. It had never been like this. He has always experienced his heats like there was a wall of glass between him at the world, cutting him off from the sharpness of the feelings.
But this felt like electricity under his skin.
Derek was kneeling beside him before he knew what happened, and he was being pulled from his chair and into his lap. He put his arms around Derek's neck as his mate breathed him in again, while broad, strong hands traveled over his back. Every touch trailed fire over his skin, and it felt like his nerves were reaching out for Derek, trying to make them one.
"God," he panted as he got his shirt off and nearly ripped Derek's off so he could press their bodies together, both of them moaning before their lips found each other.
And, fuck, the things that Derek was doing to his senses. He tasted like the air during a storm—when lightning has super charged the air. And he smelled like fresh earth under his paws on a moonlit run. He also tasted a bit like sharp tomato from their food, but Stiles didn't even care.
Derek turned and laid him down on the floor, rocking their hips together and growling as he devoured Stiles's moan. They were both so hard, so needy, already. Stiles tossed his head back with a gulp of air as Derek nuzzled and nipped his neck, before he latched onto the skin covering his bond gland, sucking to bring blood to the surface. Stiles writhed and moaned, his vision whiting out as he was coming very close to shooting in his pants like that embarrassing sixteen year old that had met Derek almost seven years ago.
"Derek," Stiles gasped, trying to clear his head as his mate marked and dry humped him. He swallowed, licking his lips and trying again. "Derek, stop." That word always worked like a charm, even though Derek appeared a bit like a kicked puppy when his drew back, eyes a little wide and his lips all swollen from sucking. Stiles smiled to assure him nothing was drastically wrong. "I really don't want the soreness that'll come with being tied on a tile floor. Can we move somewhere marginally softer? And stay there for a week?" He grinned, showing plenty of tooth.
Somehow he ended up over Derek's shoulder, which wasn't as romantic as bridal style but hey what can you do? He wasn't going to complain about the view. "Very caveman. I like it." He grabbed onto the globes of his mate's sinfully perfect ass and squeezed. That earned him a rumble of a growling laugh before he was dropped onto the bed and bounced a couple times before settling with a stretch.
Derek made quick work of the rest of their clothes, before he draped his body over Stiles's, nestled between his legs and kissed him with a hunger as their cocks rubbed together. Stiles writhed, unable to keep still as he sucked on Derek's tongue and pawed his back and neck, curling his fingers in his hair and trying to pull him all the closer, their lips and teeth mashing together. Derek drew back and he whined, his body screaming to have the other's against it.
Derek kissed him again, a smile curving his beautiful mouth, and Stiles wanted to bite him. How dare he be amused at his heat fueled desperation? He sat up and looked down over Stiles's flushed, quivering body, eyes drinking him in as if he was trying to learn him again, as if he hadn't kissed, licked and scent marked every single inch of his body. His eyes took on a red gleam as he pushed Stiles's thighs farther apart, nostrils flaring as slick dripped out of his wet and ready hole.
Taking two fingers, his mate dragged the pads along the cleft of his ass, making him shudder and pant when they ran over the rim of his hole, and he clenched in want. He watched him bring those fingers up, taking a breath of the spicy sweet slick, before his tongue came out to clean them. Derek took his time, lapping slowly like he was enjoying melting ice cream, and made sure to lick between his fingers. He sucked first one finger and then the other into his mouth, making a low purr of a growl in pleasure. He lowered his hand, pinning Stiles's eyes with his glowing red ones as he drew his tongue across his lips, slow and sensual.
Stiles forgot basic reading skills. And math. And most of his vocabulary.
He watched, trembling and transfixed, as Derek got his hands under his butt and lifted him up as he leaned in, making his back curve and his legs splay open wide, his toes catching on Derek's shoulders. The first swipe of Derek's tongue made him gasp out a cry, muscles clenching as his fingers fisted in dark hair. From there he was reduced to a keening mess as the rim of his hole was licked and worshiped before that tongue moved inside him. And fuck he could hear Derek swallowing over his breathless cries, eating his slick and digging for more.
"Derek, Derek!" Stiles screamed out, tugging on his hair and earning a fond growl in response. He was so close. His cock was throbbing and hard, precome gathering in his navel due to the way he was bent. But he needed Derek inside him before he would be able to come. He pulled on his hair again, writhing. "C'mon! I can't take it anymore! Fuck me, you asshole!" he called out, wanting to sound demanding but ending up affectionately pleading.
Derek set Stiles down on his thighs, lower half of his face a bit shiny and wet and he wiped it with his fingers before licking them clean. Stiles could only watch and moan, his head spinning. He had never felt so far gone before, never wanted his mate quite this badly, which was crazy because they boinked like bunnies in and out of his heats. But right now his skin was thrumming, his whole body rearranging itself to make way for Derek. And when he finally took his hips in hand, lifting him up to slide inside with one smooth thrust, fuck!
Stiles was faintly aware of the sound of ripping fabric as he tore their sheets with his claws, screaming himself hoarse as he came with explosions of color going off behind his eyes. His back was arched sharply, held up by Derek's hands and his weight on his shoulders. He floated like his whole reality was clouds, and he couldn't help the little smile that graced his lips at the feeling. Slowly he came back to himself, sagging, and his eyes fluttered open to find Derek watching him with bright red eyes.
His mate was rocking his hips in slow circles, barely moving and probably trying to be unobtrusive. To that, Stiles bit his lower lip and squeezed him with his muscles, smiling as Derek's hips stuttered and he let out a gasp that swiftly turned into a growl. He didn't need much incentive to start fucking Stiles like a piston, hips moving fast and steady, aimed perfectly to make Stiles squirm. He was mostly sure his hips were moving in time with Derek's. Well, he was sure they were moving at least.
Derek leaned over him, making it possible for Stiles to grab his head and devour his mouth, licking and biting as warmth gathered low in him again. He could feel the beginnings of Derek's knot catching on the rim of his hole with each thrust, making him whine into his mate's mouth. Derek answered with a deep noise from his chest, making his toes curl.
Stiles broke the kiss with a cry, scratching his claws up Derek's back and along his shoulders. "Knot me," he gasped, staring directly into those gleaming red eyes. "Do it. Fill me up." He bared his teeth. "Breed me!"
Derek slammed home, making him scream as his knot swelled and locked them together. The press of the knot against his prostate ripped another orgasm out of Stiles, and he yelled until he couldn't breathe. He felt Derek painting his insides with heat and trembled, pulling his mate, his alpha, his love, the father of his children tight against him, smiling against his ear.
"Love you," he rasped, his voice wrecked, and Derek mumbled it back, barely even coherent.
A few weeks after that amazing sex marathon (in which they had only left the bed for food, drink and necessary bodily functions), Stiles sat on the lid of the toilet, staring in annoyance at the home pregnancy test in his hand. No matter how hard he stared at it, it wasn't going to change its mind and change from a minus sign to a plus. Stiles thought this was absolutely ridiculous—his and Derek's obviously superior genetics and compatibility should have meant they'd get pregnant right out of the gate. Right? Right.
Well that didn't happen, and that annoyed Stiles. And it wasn't fair that they had to wait another month and a half to try again. No matter how much they boned, it only counted during his ovulation, which was every three months during his heats. Sigh.
After hiding the evidence of his test, Stiles went to meet Scott and Allison for lunch. They'd brought their little girl, an adorable eighteen-month-old named Zoe. Scott was just getting her situated in her high chair as Stiles reached the table. Zoe greeted him with a laugh and grabby motions with her little hands. “Hello, little ZoZo,” he said, letting her catch his hand and leaning in to kiss her soft brown hair. He kissed Allison on the cheek too, before he squeezed Scott's hand and sat down.
“I swear every time I see her, she grows a foot,” he said as he watched Allison snap a bib in place around the baby's neck.
“Don't give her any ideas,” Scott warned with a smile. He distracted his daughter with her sippy cup before he turned to Stiles. “Wasn't Derek going to come with you today?”
“He was,” Stiles said, looking over the menu. Did he want fajitas or a stuffed avocado? How deep of a food coma did he want to go into? “He had to go into work. You know how it is when you're the boss. Nobody can function without you. You guys will see him at the next run.” Enchiladas? Hm. He dropped his menu back to the table and looked at his friends. “Actually I'm kind of glad he isn't here. I wanted to talk to you two about something.”
“Is everything alright?” Allison asked, her eyebrows instantly going into the concerned position.
“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles said, waving dismissively at them. “Everything's okay. I just had a question. How long did it take for Scott to get pregnant with Zoe?” He gestured to the little girl as she playfully smacked her cup up and down on the table. They stared at him, and he realized the question was just a bit vague. “I mean, after you guys decided to try, how many heats did it take?”
“Oh,” Scott said, leaning back. “One. I got pregnant right away.”
Stiles made a face, looking back down at the menu. “Oh. That's what I thought.”
“Why?” his best friend asked.
“Are you and Derek trying to have kids?” Allison asked, apparently able to deduce that by Stiles's expression.
“Yeah,” Stiles said, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looked around the restaurant. “I already had one heat and didn't get pregnant, so I'm kind of bummed out.”
“I wouldn't worry about it,” she told him, before they had to take a pause to order their food. Stiles decided to throw caution to the wind, get a stuffed avocado and sleep it off later after he got some programming done. When they were done and the server took their menus, she put her elbows on the table and leaned in. “It's not uncommon to take more than one heat to get pregnant.”
“Yeah, Allison and I are just kind of awesome. Don't try to compete,” Scott said, grinning at him.
Stiles rolled his eyes skyward, though the action was affectionate. He knew Scott didn't mean anything by it. “I've been trying to compete with you guys since we were sixteen. I'm not going to stop now. I'm going to have twins just to show you up, so there.” That made his friends laugh, and he smiled back, warmth blooming in his chest at the thought of two little Stilinski-Hales running around with Zoe and causing trouble. Even if they would be freckled and big eyebrowed terrors, they would be his little terrors, and he would love them.
When the next heat didn't prove fruitful, Stiles groaned and threw the test across the bathroom. This wasn't fair. He was supposed to be glowing and craving weird food combinations, and even if he did like his flat stomach he would have rather it be getting round by now. He'd been almost sure that this heat had ended in insemination. He'd research the best positions and made sure to keep his legs and butt elevated for the best chances.
“No luck again?” Scott asked later when Stiles called him.
“No,” Stiles complained, draped over the love seat and pouting. He'd done nothing but be sullen all day, even though he should have been coding and sending it off to his developers. Being a webmaster and part time game coder didn't provide a very constant schedule. He mostly just did what he wanted and then panicked a couple days before his deadline. And now that Derek headed his own architectural team, Stiles couldn't call and bother him at random points through the day.
“Sorry, dude,” Scott said, sounding so sincere he probably had puppy dog eyes.
Stiles just pouted further, scooting down so that he was nestled in the cushions. “I'm starting to get really worried that something might be wrong,” he admitted, picking up his hoodie lace and starting to gnaw at it. “I mean, what if I can't have kids, Scott? I've never thought that might be an option.”
“Don't think like that,” his friend said, his voice calm and even. “I say give it one more heat, and then if you still don't get pregnant then go get your fertility checked. I don't think you'll need to, because I've got a feeling you'll be pregnant next time around. After all, it'll be spring, the season of new life.” At least, it would be almost spring. Close enough.
Stiles rolled his eyes fondly, hoping his friend was right.
He wasn't. Stiles stared down at the home pregnancy test with tears stinging his eyes. Something was really wrong. He could feel it. What if his babymaker was broken? He knew Derek wouldn't leave him, but they'd both be unfulfilled if they couldn't start a family. They could adopt, sure, but Stiles wanted a child with his mate's strong features and his own weird sense of humor. He wanted a baby with his mother's eyes because that would make his dad so happy. Or he wanted a baby that reminded Derek of his family long passed.
He made an appointment at the Omega Clinic he so despised going to for yearly exams. Apparently his usual doctor was being loaned out to another clinic, but a doctor from the local hospital had come in to take her place. After peeing in a cup and getting his blood pressure taken by a nurse, Stiles stood in the examination room anxiously. First he went to the window, but a view of the parking lot wasn't very amusing, to he moved over to the counter with the sink, tongue depressors and other things. Upon poking a model of some ovaries and a uterus, the whole thing fell apart. As he was trying to put it back together, the door opened.
And in walked Melissa McCall herself. She was working on her residency, and apparently getting in some hours at the clinics. She smiled at him brightly, looking as beautiful as she always had, even more so with the distinguishing streak of white in her curly hair. “Stiles,” she said, holding her clipboard against her chest.
“Hi, Ms McCall,” he said, immediately embarrassed as he hid the destruction of the reproductive system behind him. She tilted her head, and he stumbled over himself. “I mean, Dr McCall.” That earned a smile. He hadn't expected her at all. He didn't know if he'd be able to tell the woman that had halfway raised him about his efforts in getting pregnant. Sure, she had walked in on him and Scott mutually masturbating to fuzzy softcore porn on the TV when they had been twelve, so there wasn't much dignity left in that department, but this was different!
She moved over to the counter, spotting the model in pieces and smiling as she set down her clipboard. “Have a seat on the table, honey, I've got some questions for you,” she said as she started trying to put the model together again. “So you want to get your fertility checked?” she asked, and Stiles made a vague noise of assent. “Have you been trying to get pregnant?”
“How many heats have you gone through unsuccessfully?” She snapped up one of the fake ovaries as it tried to bounce off the counter.
“Three,” Stiles said, watching her and unable to keep from smiling.
She just set the parts down and waved dismissively at them. “We'll just leave that.” She sat down and clicked her pen, writing on her clipboard. “Are you heats regular?” When he nodded, she checked a box. “Were you on contraceptive suppressants before the first of those three heats?” Another nod, another check. “What is the frequency of your heats and how long do they usually last?”
“Every three months. Six or seven days,” Stiles said, knocking the fronts of his shoes together absently.
“Any problems with self lubrication?”
Here comes the blushing. “No,” he said, looking down.
“During your heats, would you say the amount of sex you have is light, moderate or heavy, with light being once or twice a day and heavy being five times or more?”
Stiles's face burned. “Moderate to heavy, usually,” he said, clearing his throat after.
Dr McCall wrote a few things on the clipboard, before she stood up and moved over to him. "Go ahead and lie back. I'm going to examine your pelvis." When he scooted back and flopped onto his back, she rucked up his shirt a bit and undid his pants enough to be able to poke and prod the right areas. "So you and Derek want to be daddies," she said, smiling. "It'd be wonderful if my granddaughter had someone else to play with."
Stiles smiled. "Yeah, that's the plan."
"Well everything seems okay," she said as she moved over to write on her clipboard again while he sat up and did up his jeans. "The urine test will take a couple days to get back, and the clinic will call you then. Try not to worry in the mean time, okay?"
Stiles nodded, even though that was exactly what he was going to do.
The next day Stiles went with Scott to the park to let Zoe play at the playground. It was still a bit chilly since spring had not yet sprung, and Stiles snuggled down into his coat as he slouched, watching Zoe go down the slide a hundred times. "She is getting so big," he told Scott.
"You know you say that every time you see her," he said, though he didn't seem to mind. His face was all fatherly pride as his little girl tore around the playground like she owned the place.
"You know me," Stiles said. "I love to state the obvious. How are her sentences?"
"Haphazard," his friend said with a laugh. "It doesn't keep her from chatting up a storm though. She's so smart. She can even pick out a few words in her picture books."
"Next step: Harvard," Stiles replied, sighing with a goofy smile on his face.
"Or Yale, maybe even Brown. We want her to have all the options."
"Any signs of Showing yet?" Stiles asked, quirking a brow at Scott.
"Nah," was his reply. "You know kids don't start to Show until they're close to puberty."
"Hey, Zoe is an overachiever, and I wouldn't put anything past her. So what do you think? Alpha or omega?"
Scott huffed. "What about beta?"
"I doubt Zoe will live a boring beta life." Stiles grinned as his friend rolled his eyes.
"Betas are not boring. You're not being very inclusive."
"Ha! I'm thinking alpha, just like her mom." He watched as Zoe ran to the swing and got to them before a much bigger kid to claim them. She just grinned and started swinging when the other kid whined. She was definitely as alpha.
"Can you imagine a world with two Allison's?" Scott asked, leaning back and stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"Can you imagine a world with two Derek's?" Stiles snorted as he imagined it.
"There won't be enough leather jackets and sleek black cars for the rest of us," Scott replied, starting to giggle.
Stiles covered his eyes, before he realized something. "Oh, oh no, we won't be able to put a baby seat in my jeep or his Camaro. We'll have to get a minivan! Can you imagine him driving a minivan?"
"Oh my God!" Scott wheezed. "Now I'm imagining soccer mom Derek!"
Stiles gave a bark of a laugh. "Not soccer..."
"Lacrosse!" they both cried at the same time, before they deteriorated into a mass of laughter. They ended up holding onto each other, letting themselves be possessed by a serious case of the giggles, so much so that they could barely breathe at the end of it.
Derek was home with Stiles when he got the call. It was a rare day off where his job was surviving without him for a day, and Stiles was taking advantage of the opportunity to spread all over him on the couch and catch up on some episodes of a TV show they watched on the DVR. When Stiles's pocket started ringing, he dug out his phone and glanced at it, and when he saw the number he excused himself to the kitchen to answer. "Hello?"
"Mr Stilinski?" asked the chipper voice on the other end of the line.
"That's me," he said, moving to the farthest corner of the kitchen away from the living room.
"This is Janet from the Omega One Clinic. I have your test results."
"Okay?" he said, nervous as all hell suddenly.
"Everything is fine, Mr Stilinski. Your fertility level is within a normal range."
Stiles blinked. "Oh." He'd been prepared for a lot of things, including barrenness and cancer. Hearing this was almost anti-climactic.
"The doctor suggests that if you continue to have difficulty getting pregnant to have your mate's sperm count and fertility checked as well, just to be on the safe side."
"Thank you," he said, before he exchanged an absent goodbye and hung up. He hadn't even thought of that! All this time he'd been worried that his uterus was a raisin that he hadn't even thought that the issue may lie with Derek.
Putting his phone back into his pocket, he wandered into the living room again. Okay, time to breach this subject in calm manner. "You need to get your sperm checked." Smooth.
Derek looked at him, surprised written across his features, and his eyebrows came together like he was processing what Stiles had said. Finally he just gave up. "What?"
Stiles let out a sigh and started to pace. "It's been three heats since I stopped taking my suppressants, and I'm still not pregnant. I wasn't too worried after the first one, though apparently Scott and Allison got pregnant their first try, so way to make me feel inferior. After the second heat I was starting to get antsy, because my brain was conjuring all of these worst case scenarios, y'know? Like—like cancer! After the third heat and nothing, I went to the clinic, and you know who was there? Scott's mom! That was the most embarrassing clinical experience of my life. And that includes that month I was in Boy Scouts and wiped my ass with poison oak. I mean who wants to talk heats and sex with a woman you've known since you were eight? Anyway I was absolutely sure I was infertile, because I've always imagined you have super sperm, so the only reason I wasn't getting pregnant was because my uterus had hung up a proverbial Closed For Business sign. But no! Apparently I'm fine, so you need to get your swimmers checked to make sure they're—y'know—swimming." He sucked in a deep breath of air and finally came to a halt in front of his mate, breathing a bit hard with his hands on his hips.
Derek's eyebrows were saying hi to his hairline, and he blinked a couple times. "I've been taking contraceptive shots," he said after a long moment of silence.
Stiles stared, before his arms dropped loose at his sides. "What?"
"Injections. I got a prescription after you told me that you hated the pills. I didn't want you to have to take them if they made you sick."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Stiles said as he more or less stumbled over to sit next to Derek.
His mate turned towards him, leaning against the back of the couch and throwing his arm over it. "I figured we were going to continue as we had been. We've never really had a serious discussion about children. I just thought that you would tell me when you were ready since you'd be carrying them."
"Oh," Stiles said as he looked down, before he snorted and rubbed his eyes then looked back at his mate. "Okay, you and me?" He gestured between them. "We're going to work on our communication, because a whole lot of worry and panic on my part could have been avoided if you had told me about your shots." He felt so stupid. And Derek was the cutest, sweetest mate in the world, taking responsibility like that. God.
The corner of Derek's lips quirked up. "Granted. And you should have told me about your worrying and panicking."
Stiles stuck his tongue out, but he leaned in and brushed his lips across Derek's with a smile. "So, wanna be my baby daddy?"
Derek laughed softly, putting his arm around Stiles and pulling him in for a tight embrace. "Yes. More than anything."
"Good, because I'm way too lazy to go to a sperm bank. Not nearly as much fun either," Stiles joked, and he laughed as he was then pinned by his loving, protective alpha.
The next time Stiles took the home pregnancy test, he wasn't alone in the bathroom. He sat on the toilet lid as Derek sat on the edge of the tub, holding onto his hand and rubbing his knuckles with his thumb. They were staring at the face of Derek's phone as it counted down the minutes it took for the test to mature. When it beeped, they both jumped, and their hands squeezed.
Stiles looked at Derek, before he snatched the test off the edge of the sink and hid it with his body as he looked at it, his mate giving a soft 'hey!' in protest. He grinned madly and showed Derek the test, earning a huge, toothy smile. "Say goodbye to your free time, dad."