The first time Derek noticed it, it was because he was in the middle of a very important discussion with Stiles. A life or death discussion. Specifically the life of the pack and the death of several dozen gnomes that had taken up residence in the sewage system.
Stiles was holding a lighter, explaining how they could use naturally occurring methane to get rid of the gnomes, when he suddenly trailed off mid sentence.
Derek looked up at him quizzically, scrunching his eyebrows.
He didn’t respond, but continued holding the lighter and staring over Derek’s shoulder.
Derek glanced behind himself, but didn’t see anything unusual. Erica and Boyd were playing cards, Scott was staring into space instead of reading his history text, and Peter was doing pull ups in the doorway.
Derek looked back at Stiles, starting to get a little concerned, and noticed that the flame on the lighter was too close to his thumb.
“Shit!!” Stiles yelled, dropping the lighter and sticking his thumb into his mouth to suck on the burn.
A loud thunk and clatter happened behind him, and Derek turned around in time to see Peter pick himself up off the floor, rubbing his elbow.
Derek looked back and forth between the two of them for a minute, wondering if this was a new side effect of the gnomes in the sewers. It wasn’t I’ll he saw his uncle’s slack jawed stare at Stiles’ mouth, and Stiles’ returning fixation on Peter’s shirtless top, that he figured it out.
Stiles startled at the sound, flushing red and determinedley looking away from Peter.
“I’m going for a run,” Peter announced with a slight growl to his voice that spoke of unvoiced frustration.
This was going to be a disaster.
The second time could have been passed off as general Stiles clumsiness, if it weren’t for the fact that Derek knew Peter was eating a popsicle directly in Stiles’ line of sight.
“You alright,” he asked flatly as Stiles dusted off the knees of his jeans.
“Fine, fine, I’m perfectly fine.” Stiles glanced back at Peter again. Derek raised an eyebrow.
“Do you want a popsicle?”
“NO. No. No thank you, I do not want a popsicle right now.”
“Are you sure? It sounds like you want a popsicle,” Derek pressed, thinking that maybe if he could get them both in the same spot with the same dumb thoughts, he cut end this before it got horrible.
“Nope, no, I actually need to go, uh, right now.” One more glance at Peter had his voice a little more distant, but he still said, “Yeah… I have to leave right the fuck now. Bye.”
Peter walked into a wall on ice cream night.
Stiles dropped a Costco sized box of steaks on his foot when Peter bent over to put groceries away.
Stiles took off his shirt to go swimming, and Peter tripped over a pool noodle and fell into the water fully clothed.
Derek was concerned that he would soon have a permanent palm print on his forehead from how often his hand was there.
But it wasn’t until the next training day that he finally found the solution to his problems.
“Peter. Stiles. You two are sparring over there.” Derek pointed to a section of grass to the right that was partially sectioned off by trees, giving it a slightly more separate feel.
Peter and both immediately tensed.
“Are you sure about that one, nephew dear? You would want me to break out only human, after all.”
Stiles made an indignant sound.
“Break me?! You couldn’t break me!” His face suddenly froze, and he began backtracking. “But, uh, maybe he’s right. Maybe we should spar someone else-“
Derek turned away, knowing they’d sort themselves out from there.
Stiles and Peter glanced at each other, and Peter gestured forward with an arm.
Stiles rolled his eyes, but walked forward anyway, only to be taken by surprise when Peter slid up behind him and wrapped a hand around his throat.
“Never let an enemy behind you, darling,” Peter whispered in his ear.
Stiles thought he might pass out from how fast all the blood was draining to his dick.
Instead, he kicked a leg behind him, in between Peter’s, and knocked one away, unbalancing him. Peter’s grip loosened in surprise and Stiles spun around, kicking the already unbalanced leg again, causing Peter to fall. In a second Stiles was on top of him, pocket knife at his temple.
By the time Derek looked back, fifteen seconds after sending them away, they were making out.
“Oh thank Christ,” he muttered to himself. “Alright, go home everyone!” he called out. “Training’s cancelled!!”
“What?” Isaac said. “We just got here!”
Derek jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the two on the ground.
“If you want to stay here with them, be my guest. I’m leaving.”
Isaac actually looked tempted for a moment before Scott let out a disgusted retching sound and pulled him away.
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