Out Of Milk

20

Stiles spent every day after school at Derek's. His dad wasn't too happy about it, but because Derek actually fed him real food and Stiles always brought home a Tupperware container of leftovers for him (who would go to his grave before admitting that he really missed Derek's cooking), and was always back before 7pm – there wasn't much his dad could say. It didn't stop him from saying a lot about it though.

"Stiles, he's much older than you – you're only a child."

"Stiles – you don't understand, you're only 17."

"Stiles, when you're older, you'll see I'm right."

The only issue with that was… well… He was graduating. He was leaving soon. Leaving the state – leaving everyone, really.

"Dad, you are aware that when I go to New Orleans that I'm going to be living alone, right? I'm going to be going out and living by myself?"

"I am aware of that, Stiles."

"Just checking – because right now your acting like I'm too young to cross the street without your help and I'm a little concerned what you're going to be like when I leave the State."

Normally after that Stiles would storm away. Things were not sunshine and flowers in the Stilinski household.

His bags were packed and he was ready to go – and he couldn't get that damn song out of his head. Talon had invited him to go down to New Orleans before the semester started, giving him time to collect his bearings and get to know the city (and its dangers) before he had to divide his time between school, the supernatural and a part time job. Which was amazing. Great. Wonderful!

Only, as he stood in the middle of the great room and watched Isaac and Scots faces crumple when he'd told them – he started to question how much of a great decision it had been. Derek wasn't saying anything, but there was nothing unusual about that.

"You're going when?" Scott asked.

"Next week. I told you!" Stiles reminded them. "I told you I was going early!"

"But classes don't start for another 2 months!" Isaac whined, and Reever wrapped her arms around her mates waist, tucking her head under his arm so Stiles wouldn't see her expression.

"I thought we were going to have the whole summer together!" Jackson snapped. "This sucks fucking balls, Stilinski."

"I told you!" He repeated. "I told you all I was going on the 12th!"

"We thought you meant next month!" Scott wailed. "We made plans!"

Derek wasn't talking. No one was talking, which Stiles hated. They were in Derek's car – his dad, Scott and Isaac in the back – and Derek brooding in the front. Behind them was Stiles Jeep, which he'd given to Reever to look after till he got back – Erica and Boyd with her. Jackson had opted to take his Porsche – he was speeding on ahead of them all. The airport was close – he could tell by how low the planes overhead were to the ground.

Derek wasn't happy – seriously not happy. Pissed, in fact. Furious. Because Stiles had pretty much walked right over his PG rating. Jumped over it. Vaulted. Stiles should probably feel a little guilty about it – after all, Derek had made it pretty clear that he didn't want to take it further. Kind of. The guy was a master at mixed messages, so Stiles really couldn't be blamed when one moment the Alpha had his hands all over him, and the next he was furious because Stiles had taken it a little further. Just a little. Okay, so he'd probably blind-sided the poor wolf, but it wasn't his fault! He'd been cock-teased and blocked for the better part of a year! There was only so much pressure you can put on a guy before he snapped.