Heavenly. Teen Wolf (s.s)

xxii. my cousin miguel

"Scott, come on, you can't let him do this," Gracie encouraged supportively. "You can't let him have this kind of power over you. Okay?"

"I'm gonna do everything you never got the chance to do, and, Scott, she's gonna beg for more," Jackson kept egging him on. "I'll bet she likes to get loud. Maybe she's even a screamer. How are you gonna feel, Scott, when she's screaming my name?"

With that, Scott slammed the lunch tray he had been holding down on the table. The noise echoed through the cafeteria, causing everyone to look back at him.

───────────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ─────────────

STRUTTING INTO HIS ROOM, STILES TOSSED HIS BAG ON HIS BED AND plopped down in swivel chair at his desk, glad to finally be home. He was currently trying to find out who exactly sent the text message to Allison to meet Scott at school the night of the attack.

"Hey, Stiles!" His dad called for him.

"Yo..." Stiles spun in his chair, gasping when he saw Derek Hale standing in the corner of his room beside the door. "D-Derek."

Derek pressed a finger to his lips and pointed at his door. Stiles jumped out of his chair and scrambled to his bedroom door, shutting mostly behind him as he leaned against the frame, leaving the door open only a crack.

"What'd you say?" His dad asked, looking at him confused.

"What?" He asked, trying to act casual as possible. "I said 'Yo, d-dad."

Noah squinted at his son. "Listen, I've got something I've got to take care of, but I'm gonna be there tonight. I mean, your first game."

"My first game," Stiles repeated with a big grin. "Gosh, it's great. Awesome. Uh, good."

His dad nodded, smiling. "I'm very happy for you. And I'm really proud of you."

"Thanks. Me too," Stiles chucked nervously. "I'm happy and proud...of myself."

"So they're really gonna let you play, right?" Noah asked.

"Yeah, dad," his son confirmed. "I'm first line. Believe that?"

Noah let out a small chuckle. "I'm very proud."

"Oh, me too. Again, I'm--" Stiles was cut off when Noah pulled him into a hug. He patted his dad's back. "Huggie, huggie, huggie..."

"See you there," his dad said, giving his son a suspicious look. He would've asked why he was acting so weird -- well, acting weirder than usual -- but decided against it. He figured it was probably nerves about playing in his first game.

"Take it easy," Stiles called out to his dad, watching him walk down the hall. Filing back into his room, he shut the door behind him. "I'm sor--"

He was cut off again as Derek pushed him back, thrusting the teen boy against the door by the collar of his shirt.

"If you say one word..." Derek threatened, hissing in the spastic teen's face.

"Oh, what, you mean, like, 'Hey, Dad, Derek Hale's in my room. Bring your gun'?" Stiles challenged. Derek loosened his grip on his collar, and Stiles nodded. "Yeah, that's right. If I'm harboring your fugitive ass, it's my house, my rules, buddy."

After he gave Derek a slap on the shoulder, he watched the older wolf glare down at the shoulder he hit and nodded, eventually stepping back and letting go of Stiles' shirt. He straightened out Stiles' jacket with the stern look on his face never faltering.