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Eli was a smart boy.
Of course, he was. With Stiles’ brain and werewolf superior genes, his and Derek’s child couldn’t be anything but amazing. He was four and a half but could already read his favorite tale — a werewolf-friendly retelling of the Little Red Riding Hood. There was a brief period when all he would read was this tale, and no amount of Stiles’ whining could sway him.
The stubbornness came from Derek, for sure.
Lately, however, something changed in Eli’s attitude. It was gradual and not something Stiles noticed at first. Eli was healthy, bubbly and happy most of the time, a perfect overly energetic and curious child, but sometimes he just gave Stiles this studying, almost suspicious long stare and pursed his little button nose, as if thinking very hard about something.
Today was one of those days.
“Love you.”
“Love you, too,” Stiles chirped and happily received a quick goodbye kiss from his gorgeous, fantastic, but, alas, very busy husband.
Derek stroked Stiles’ belly and smiled upon receiving a mischievous kick. He turned to look at Eli, who watched both of them very carefully.
“Say goodbye to Daddy, pumpkin,” Stiles grinned at him.
“Bye, Daddy,” Eli murmured, frowning a little.
Derek chuckled. “Are you sleepy still?” Eli shook his head, prompting his dad to catch his hand and tug him toward himself.
“Love you,” Derek said and smacked a kiss on Eli’s cheek, which, thankfully made him giggle.
“Love you, too,” Eli answered a bit more cheerfully, glanced at Stiles and ran away into the living room to take the TV remote hostage for his morning cartoon time.
“Are two of you bickering again?” Derek arched an eyebrow.
“No. I don’t know, have to investigate,” Stiles sighed.
“Good luck.”
*
“Tata?”
“Hmm?”
Upon not receiving any answer, Stiles gently put the plate back into the soapy water and turned his head. Eli had somehow managed to sneak into the kitchen unnoticed and now stood right beside Stiles. His little hands clutched the TV remote, as he picked at one of the buttons.
Eli looked up at Stiles with a slight frown. “I love you.”
Stiles lifted his eyebrows, but despite the surprise, the smile still tugged his lips up.
“I love you, too, honeybun,” he chuckled.
Eli continued staring at him as if waiting for something.
“Everything okay?” Stiles asked slowly after some time, keeping his voice light. “Want some snacks?”
“No,” the child muttered, turned around and stomped back into the living room.
Stiles stared after him. Thoughts started buzzing in his mind, as he cataloged everything that might have happened. When he eventually came up with nothing, Stiles left the dishes, wiped his hands and went into the living room.
The TV was on, but Eli was staring down at the remote, picking the same button, with a pout on his face. Biting his lip, Stiles walked to the couch and sat down, swinging an arm around Eli’s small shoulder and tucking him into his side.
“Pumpkin, what’s the matter?”
“No matter.”
“Then what’s with the long face?”
Eli looked up at him. “Do you love me?”
The question made Stiles freeze because he told Eli about his love every single day. Did he not believe him?..
Stiles’ heart sped up uncomfortably. “Of course, I do, sweetheart,” he stroked Eli’s wavy chestnut hair. “Why do you ask? Did I do something wrong?”
Eli, however, stared at him with those big blue eyes of his. Finally, after not getting whatever he was waiting for, the pup chucked the remote down on the floor.
“Eli!”
But his little wolf was already running to the stairs.
Stiles cursed, as he slowly stood up and hurried as fast as he could, keeping a calming hand on his bump.
“Eli!”
“No! If you hate me then I hate you, too!” a small distant voice echoed through the hall.
Huffing and puffing, Stiles climbed up after him but was greeted with a closed door. Suddenly, he had so much respect for his dad and his, as it turned out, never-ending patience.
Despite Eli’s cranky efforts from the other side, Stiles managed to squeeze through, which made Eli growl.
“Hey, mister, no growling at Tata,” Stiles pointed his finger at the pup, but Eli didn’t listen. He jumped on his bed and hid under the covers. “I’ve never said I hated you, Eli. Where did that come from?”
Eli stayed silent and just wiggled a bit to get comfortable.
“Eli, sunshine…” Stiles begged.
“No.”
“Come out, pretty please?”
“No!”
“Okay,” Stiles muttered under his breath. It was one of those stubborn episodes, then. The pup needed to chill. “Okay, you stay there and calm down and think about what you said. I don’t hate you and —”
“You hate me!” Eli snuck out of the covers; his hair was mussed up and his face was red, whether it was from anger or from sadness. “Daddy loves me, and you not!”
“I do.”
“Do not!”
Then Stiles remembered he was arguing with a four-year-old. He couldn’t not argue, though — his child had somehow got into his baby head that his Tata hated him and that was downright illegal for him to think.
With something heavy and bitter forming in his throat (damn those fucking hormones), Stiles went downstairs, picked up his phone and called his savior, his anchor and sometimes his only voice of reason.
“Yes, baby?”
“My child hates me,” Stiles sniffled.
Derek went silent for a couple of moments. “… no, he doesn’t.”
“But he said so,” god, now his voice was wobbling. Great.
“He is four, Stiles. He also swore to both of us he saw his dinosaurs move at night. He doesn’t hate you.”
Stiles swallowed and blinked rapidly. “It’s just… I can’t believe he thinks that.”
Elias was his son, his baby boy, his sunshine. He was a miracle — one he and Derek didn’t even know they could have. It was a total surprise from none other than Stiles’ spark magic. The greatest gift of a lifetime. Eli could literally do nothing wrong in his eyes.
Derek sighed over the phone, hearing his stuttered breathing. “Can both of you make it to lunch? I’ll come home and make him talk.”
“Okay,” Stiles answered, breathing out in relief.
Derek will make everything okay. He always did.
*
Upon arriving home, the werewolf kissed Stiles on the cheek and went straight upstairs.
Stiles looked up after him, but after not hearing anything went to sit on the sofa. The remote somehow found its way into his hands; it took him a couple of absent minutes to realize he was picking at it, which made him immediately throw it aside.
At last, his anxiety-inducing depressive thoughts were interrupted by a sound of steps.
Stiles swiveled his head. Derek was walking down the stairs with Eli nestled in his arms. His poor baby was clutching at Derek’s shoulders; his face was pink and — Stiles’ heart jumped — wet with tears.
Apart from that, though, he was smiling.
Unable to understand anything even the slightest bit, Stiles turned his pleading gaze to his mate, who was also smiling softly.
“Eli and I had just found out,” Derek sat down on the couch with Eli still in his hands, “that you are a little silly, Tata.”
Stiles blinked at them. Eli giggled.
“Wh— I mean, of course, I am, but why?”
Derek tsked playfully and leaned to whisper into their son’s ear. “See, pup? Completely clueless.”
“Queue-s,” Eli giggled again.
“Shall we show him?” Derek asked and, after Eli nodded, turned to Stiles. “I love you.”
“I love you, too?” Stiles arched his eyebrows.
Derek leaned down and kissed him lightly on the cheek, then turned to Eli. “And I love you.”
“Love you, too,” Eli said with a grin and squeezed his eyes shut as Derek smooched him on the cheek.
Derek then turned to Stiles and lifted an exasperated eyebrow at him. “Now your turn, Tata.”
Stiles blinked at both of them. “I love you, Eli,” he said slowly.
“Love you, too, Tata,” said Eli and, as in previous cases, waited for something.
And oh. Oh.
Stiles was really very silly.
He quickly cupped his son’s full pink cheeks and descended upon each of them with loud kisses. Finally, finally Eli blessed him with a bright laugh.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Stiles sniffled, taking his pup in a tight embrace, and closed his eyes when he felt tiny hands wrap around his neck. Eli gave him a soothing pat (just like Stiles did to him sometimes), making him laugh.
“Do not forget it many more, Tata,” Eli leaned away and made a fake scowl at him, shaking his finger in Stiles’ face. “You say love you and you kiss me.”
“I won’t forget, sweetheart.”
Eli nodded to himself and laid his head back on Stiles’ shoulder, satisfied with his lesson.
Stiles looked up at Derek with glistening eyes. The wolf chuckled and swiped a thumb against his cheek.
It was the unsaid, undiscussed ritual, so old and automatic, it became an instinct: when one of them was leaving somewhere, they made sure to say ‘I love you’ and seal it down with a kiss. In a child’s uncomplicated mind, this declaration of love always went in pairs. After all, he’d seen it so many times from his parents. So it’s no wonder he got confused when all he received was “I love you”.
Nevermore will his child spend a day without a kiss.
Blinking left-over tears from his eyes and softening under the gaze of his mate, Stiles put his lips against the soft skin of Eli’s neck and blew a giant raspberry.
Eli screeched in giggles, trying to squirm out of his hold.
Their home was filled with laughter once again. As it always should be.