One Night (sterek mpreg)

moving

I've decided to move in with Derek. When I proposed the idea to my dad, he was a little skeptical, asking a lot of "are you sure?"'s and "really, Stiles?!"'s. But yes, I am sure, really.

My dad stands at my bedroom door, leaning against the doorframe, watching me as I pack up the boxes.

"Maybe a little help'd be nice?" I ask, my voice strained when I struggle to lift the pile of heavy books I stacked down on the floor.

"Oh, right." My dad shakes his head slightly, as if snapping out of a daze, before pacing over and taking the pile of books from me.

"Thanks." I breathe, wiping a thin layer of sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.

I end up just packing away the light things, like clothes and god knows what else I find in the depths of my possessions.

"Dad," I begin as I fold (neatly scrunch up) some khakis and drop them into a new box, labelled "pants".

"Yeah?" He asks, throwing me a glance from over his shoulder.

"What're you gonna tell the school? Cause I'm thinking I'm gonna have to leave soon." I say, gesturing down to my growing stomach.

My dad turns around and looks at me. I look like I have a beer belly right now. It's not that big, but it's pretty obvious.

"I don't know..." he answers slowly, shrugging.

"Well, we're gonna have to think of something soon, 'cos this baby isn't gonna be able to stay hidden forever." I say, patting my stomach slightly.

My dad grimaces, making me raise my eyebrows defensively.

"What?!" I flail, turning to face him.

My dad holds up his hands innocently. "What? I didn't even say anything!" He insists.

I roll my eyes. "You're still not okay with it, are you?" I accuse him, looking him dead in the eye.

"Wha- that's ridiculous, Stiles..." He scoffs, dismissing me with a wave of a hand.

I sigh, managing to suppress another eye roll. I raise an eyebrow at my dad, until his face droops in defeat.

"Fine. It's just a little... Overwhelming, let's say? I mean, firstly, you're Derek Hale's 'mate' or whatever. Second, you're pregnant, Stiles. Not every father hears that from his son, okay?" He says, eyes widened slightly.

I nod along, looking at my hands, which lay across my baby bump. "Whatever you say, gramps." I decide to joke, before patting him on the back and escaping my room, leaving him kneeled on the floor sorting through mountains of my stuff, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips.

***

I wake up reasonably on time for school- 7:15. I roll onto my back and look around my room. All my posters have been ripped down, books taken off shelves, any traces of myself living here now packed up in an array of boxes which dot messily around the room. Part of me feels bad for my dad- he'll be all alone now. But, hey, it was gonna happen at some point or another.

"Stiles, school!" I hear his voice echo through the house. I chuckle at how he has to do this each morning. I'm 18, and still require my father as my personal alarm clock.

"Coming!" I call back, my voice raspy from sleep. I prop myself up on one arm and rub my eyes with my spare hand.

It's my last day today.

I jump in the shower and get dressed in about eight minutes, if we're being precise here. I quickly gel up my hair in its usual upwards style before grabbing my baggiest hoodie- in order to cover up the bump- and heading downstairs.