Stiles Stilinski + Derek Hale

how about a drunk wedding? pt.2

A/N: I kept typing "flat" instead of "apartment" and I kept having to go back and fix it. I'm not even British??? This kind of reminds me of a huge history essay I had to write and my teacher called me out for using British spellings.  Just a short little continuation! Enjoy and comment!

Stiles never thought he would say this, but he liked being married. While trying to figure out what to do about their current situation, Derek packed up a couple of suitcases and flew to DC with Stiles so that he could return to work. Derek was lucky enough to be living off of his inheritance and trust fund and dedicate his time to various side projects. 

When they finally arrived at Stiles's apartment, Stiles unlocked the door and stepped in front of Derek and blocked him from going inside. 

"Just a disclaimer, I'm not a Hale-"

"Well technically-"

Stiles glared, though his heart did a weird summersault at the thought of sharing Derek's last name, "I don't have a shit ton of money, so my apartment is not the most beautiful thing ever, okay?"

Derek rolled his eyes and pushed past Stiles into the apartment. The studio apartment was the physical embodiment of Stiles's personality. Case files for his job were stacked up on his desk. A whiteboard with red string decorating it stood adjacent to the desk. Coffee mugs littered the kitchen. The cleanest thing in the entire room was Stiles's bed which looked mostly unslept in. 

Slightly embarrassed, Stiles rushed to stuff the case files in his work bag that was sitting in the corner and gently placed the mugs in the sink. 

"It's a mess, sorry." 

Derek smiled and gently placed his suitcases on the floor near Stiles's bed. 

"It's fine. I love it." 

Stiles grinned, feeling relieved, and raced to help Derek unpack his belongings. As Derek laughed at Stiles's excited discovery of one of his old sweatshirts in Derek's bag, Stiles's phone rang.

Stiles pulled the device out of his pocket, "It's my dad, just give me a second." He pressed the green circle to answer it. He put on a grin and the cheeriest expression he could manage before greeting the Sheriff with, "Hey, Dad!"

There was a pause. 

"Dad?"

"Son, do you want to explain to me why I'm looking at a marriage certificate with your name on it?"

Oh, that's where the other one went. Shit. Stiles's eyes went wide as he motioned to Derek to move over to him. He put the phone on speaker. 

"It's a funny story-"

"And why it says you married Derek Hale?"

Stiles groaned and placed his head in his hand. After a second, his father started to speak again and Stiles raised his head.

"Where are you?"

"At my place. In DC."

"And where's Derek?"

Stiles looked at Derek who's eyes were also widened. 'don't look at me!' Derek mouthed. 'I am going to kill you' Stiles mouthed back. 

"He's with me."

Derek punched Stiles's arm. 

"Dude!"

Stiles reached out to punch Derek in return but Derek backed up with half a second to spare. 

"Stiles!" the Sheriff shouted through the phone. 

"Dad?"

"Give the phone to Derek."

Stiles took the phone off of speaker and slowly handed it to his husband (legally speaking). 

'Sorry,' he mouthed. 

Derek accepted the phone and put it up to his ear. Stiles paced around the room, trying to listen in to the conversation, but it seemed that his dad was doing most of the talking.

After a few minutes, Derek hung up the phone and returned it to Stiles who was cleaning his mugs out of pure stress. 

"What did he say?! Shit, he didn't threaten you, did he?"

Derek shook his head and rubbed Stiles's back as an attempt to comfort him.

"No. He just told me to protect you. You need it."

"Hey! I am an FBI agent, sir."

Derek laughed and grabbed a towel to help Stiles dry the mugs and put them in their cupboard. 

"And Stiles?"

"Yeah?" Stiles responded while standing on his tiptoes to put one of the mugs away.

"He told me to call him Dad."