Chapter 10

"Finstock just told me to lay off the twinkies, Scott. I think it's time."

Scott glances sideways and down. "You can't tell." He looks back up and reaches into his locker. "Isn't that your dad's hoody?"

"Yes," Stiles huffs, slamming his locker shut but not making any effort to move away from it. "I'm reduced to wearing my dad's clothes, because while mine still technically fit, they make my condition rather frickin obvious. It makes my considerable experience in hiding awkward boners pale in comparison." He sighs. "So, I figure I fake an illness, something contagious so no one feels the need to check up on me. We might need your mom's help on that." He turns back to the hallway and leans his butt against his locker. "And I'm going to have to tell my dad."

"Hey, Stiles," Dana says as she suddenly appears in front of him.

Stiles jumps. "Jesus. You're like a were— Cat. Remind me to get you a little bell."

The tiny girl tips her head to the side and smiles. "Does it come on a sparkly collar?"

Stiles grins. Despite her sudden appearances and unfortunate crush, he likes her. "I dunno. I think you're more of a velvet girl."

Her laugh is like music. Stiles vaguely registers Scott closing his locker and wandering away as Dana opens her bag and pulls out a sheet of paper. "I noticed you were kinda zoned in Econ, so I took down the homework for you."

There's shouting down the hall, the sound of feet hitting the floor. Stiles glances up to see a bunch of senior boys pushing each other around, but they're laughing, so he looks back down. "That's so sweet, thanks. I was distracted—"

"You probably could have got it off Scott I suppose," she says, and her cheeks go pink.

Stiles shakes his head. "He usually gets it off me." He waves the sheet of paper. "This is great."

The seniors come tearing down the hall. Stiles doesn't pay much attention to them, until one ankle-taps another, who comes careening toward them. Like slow motion he sees the big, heavy guy coming at them and Stiles doesn't have enough time to move, to grab Dana and get them both out of the way.

Instinctively, he wraps his arms around his stomach. Dana sees his eyes, sees his movement and looks down. Her own eyes go wide, and then the senior hits her from behind.

They both end up on the floor, Stiles on his back, Dana on top of him, her hands on his stomach and he can see it in her eyes as she looks down at him. She slithers off, and her eyes flick over him, her face a picture of confusion and disbelief.

"Oh my god, Stiles. Are you okay?" Scott grabs his hand and pulls him up, and then Scott and Isaac are crowded around him, hiding him from the crowd that's gathered.

"I'm... I'm fine," Stiles gasps, catching his breath. "Dana, she... She was the one that got hit. I just broke her fall."

Isaac looks the length of the hall. "She's gone," he says.

Mr. Grimm comes out of his classroom and stares right at Stiles. It's the first time the man has so much as looked at him since he handed in the assignments, but now, it's like the guy can see everything, knows what he's thinking, and it makes his skin crawl.

Stiles drops his eyes. "We're okay," he whispers, pressing his hands to his stomach, rubbing his sides. From the corner of his eye, he sees Grimm striding up the hall, grabbing two students by the collar and dragging them away.

"She's fine," Scott whispers, his hand on Stiles' shoulder, one finger tapping a quick, regular heartbeat.

.

"I'm okay," Stiles says into the phone. "No, you don't have to come right now, I'm doing homework and you're the one who keeps telling me I'm going to be fine and shouldn't neglect my studies and shit, so, just come over later, okay?"

There's a knock on his bedroom door and he covers the phone with his hand. "Yeah, Dad? I'm doing homework." The door starts to creak open. "I gotta go, Derek." He looks up at the door, expecting to see his father.

Dana's standing in the doorway, looking awkward. "Hey," she says. "Your dad said to come right up."

"Bye," Stiles says, and ends the call. He tosses his phone onto the desk. "Hey."

Dana walks into the room and closes the door. "I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"I'm not the one who got hit by a dude three times my size."

"I'm not the one who's pregnant," she counters.

There's a long moment spent just staring at each other. There's an almighty battle going on inside Stiles. Fight or flight. Deny the crap out of it, or tell her the truth. He's usually a good judge of people, and while it's been impossible to get to know Dana as well as he might have done with everything going on on top of all the regular secrets Stiles has to keep, he trusts that she's not going to spread it around the entire school.

"Right," he says.

"Right," she echoes, and then she stares some more, and Stiles can practically see the cogs turning in her head as she attempts to piece things together. "So," she finally says. "Are you trans? Because normally, guys can't get pregnant."

"No," Stiles says, and then he frowns. "But I probably should have said yes, huh? That would have been an easy explanation." He hits himself in the forehead with the heel of his hand. "But no. All the boy parts, here. It's kind of a long story."

"This town has werewolves, and the normal rules don't apply?"

"Or not." Stiles gapes at her. "You know about werewolves?"

Dana shrugs. "Wolves howling when there's no wolves in California, a history of mysterious animal attacks, and snippets of conversations overheard at school? I figured it out. So." She waves her hand in the direction of Stiles' stomach. "This is a werewolf thing?"

Stiles nods, and then shakes his head. "Yeah. But I'm not a werewolf. Just the poster boy for abstinence, apparently."

Dana grins and sits down on the edge of Stiles' bed. "Noted. So, how far along are you? I mean, when are you...?"

Stiles winces, because the time keeps getting shorter, and he keeps trying to tell himself it doesn't matter whether the Sidhe ever show up or not, but he's scared. "A little over five months. So, May. Obviously I'm going to have to quit school. Well, not quit, but sort of take a leave of absence. I'm gonna fake mono, so if you hear anything of the sort, descriptions of horrible rashes would be much appreciated."

Dana pulls an 'eww' face. "I'm happy to help." Then her cheeks color. "I'm guessing you have a scary werewolf boyfriend, then."

As if on cue, there's a knock on Stiles' bedroom door, and it swings open. Derek looks at the girl on the bed and his nostrils flare. His eyes flick to Stiles with a questioning look.

Stiles waves his hand at Derek. "Speak of the devil," he says. "Dana, Derek. Derek, Dana. I thought I told you I was fine?"

"I thought you said you were doing homework?" Derek says, lifting an eyebrow.

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Dana was between me and the freak of nature who decided to throw himself around the hall. She was just checking to make sure I was okay."

Dana stands up. She barely comes up to Derek's armpit, but she looks up at him with curiosity, and no fear at all. Stiles is pleased, it means at least he doesn't have to deal with his new friend having a totally-not-irrational fear of the supernatural. "I should go, anyway. Will I see you at school tomorrow?" she says.

Stiles nods. "I'm gonna finish the week."

As soon as she's gone and closed the door behind her, Derek pulls Stiles out of his chair and runs his hands all over him, searching for bruises and bumps. Once he's satisfied, his palms settle under Stiles' hoody, over his stomach. If Stiles thought Derek was handsy before, he's twice as bad now, every chance he gets his hands are on the baby, desperate to feel her move or kick, but up until now, only Stiles has been able to feel it.

"Down a bit," Stiles suggests, because he's starting to get hard and it's been a couple of days since they've been alone together.

Derek frowns. "You have homework."

"Sex first, homework later." He turns his head and finds Derek's lips, gives him a quick kiss. "I told you not to come until I'd finished my homework. You're a distraction."

"I can be quiet." He pulls away and climbs onto Stiles' bed, lying back with his hands behind his head.

"No, because I'll look, and you'll be there, and I'll want to have sex." Stiles climbs onto the bed, straddles Derek's hips, and even though they're fully clothed simply grinding his cock against Derek's makes him shudder. "Come on," he says, yanking at the button of Derek's jeans. "Just a quick—"

"Your father is home," Derek breathes.

"You'll hear if he comes upstairs," Stiles says, pulling Derek's cock out and then undoing his own pants. "And he knows you're here. He's not going to come in here without knocking, believe me." He wraps his fingers around Derek and himself, squeezes both their dicks together. "Fuck, oh yeah."

"He'll just shoot me on the way out," Derek says, arching up into Stiles' fist.

Stiles pushes Derek's shirt up to expose his abs. They're pretty to look at, and Stiles loves coming all over them, plus, it'll keep his clothes clean. "Run faster."

"Stroke faster," Derek counters, covering Stiles' hand with his own, guiding the movements, pressing them together more firmly. With his free hand he drags down the zipper of Stiles' hoody, spreads it open, then pushes up the shirt underneath, rolling it and tucking it above the bump. "God, you look good," he breathes. "I never thought..."

"Whatever." Stiles snorts. "I'm a complete freak of nature. How can you even—"

"Shut up, Stiles," Derek snaps, then his voice softens. "You're so fucking hot like this and you smell so good, and you feel so good, and so right, and..." He trails off, breathing hard, and his eyes slowly slide up over Stiles' body, his free hand sliding over the bump, settling on the side of Stiles' swollen stomach. "Stiles," he breathes, and his hand, wrapped around Stiles', starts to move faster.

It's the fact that Derek's baby is inside him, Stiles has decided. It makes him smell like Derek, makes him smell like he belongs to him, and it's got to have an effect on Derek's werewolfy instincts. When the baby is out, there's every chance that Derek won't need him anymore, won't want him, but the look on his face right now makes Stiles' insides twist up and he's happy.

Derek's shoulders tense, lifting off the bed. "You're gonna come, aren't you?" Stiles says. "I wanna come with you, make me come with you."

"Stiles, fuck," Derek gasps, scrunching up his eyes, and he slides his hand down to work the base of their cocks.

Stiles' works on the heads, rolling them together in his hand, stimulating the sensitive spot on the underside. He arches back as heat coils in the base of his spine. "Yeah," he says, and does it again.

The first spurt when he starts to come dribbles through his fingers, down over their hands. Derek swallows back a shout, and his cock jerks against Stiles'. He can feel it, pumping through the big vein on the underside, pulsing against his own, and it's too much. He falls forward, catching himself on one hand before he face-plants, and hunched over he milks them both onto Derek's hard stomach.

Derek tips Stiles onto his side before he falls, and he curls into Derek's side as they both come down, their breathing slowly easing back to normal. "Naptime," he whispers, dragging his fingers through the mess on Derek's stomach.

Derek reaches behind them for the box of tissues Stiles keeps on the shelf and starts to clean himself up. "Homework," he says. "You've gotta keep up, Stiles. It's going to be hard enough for you to catch up next year as it is."

"No point," Stiles whispers sleepily and then shakes himself alert. "What? Oh, right." Derek's looking at him with his brow furrowed in concern. "Sidhe. No dying." That's not how it's going to go, but he's gotta fake it, for Derek's sake. For everyone else's sake. For his own sake. He nods and looks up at his desk, where his textbooks are still lying open. "Homework."