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The fox Derek lived with for months--near to a year, in fact--was a gorgeous creature, almost absurdly so. It was nothing like any fox he had ever seen, more like those bred in fur farms or for pets than any wild fox, and yet it knew a healthy fear of humans. He recalled his mother coaxing him slowly, so slowly, into their garden. She would never let any of them close, even occasionally chased them off around the time the fox usually visited.
Although, honestly, he had assumed this fox, the one that came to live with him, the one who loved Laura and called a cabinet in the kitchen his den, could not possibly be the same fox. Foxes were not creatures generally of long lives, and this fox was ever so young. And yet--and yet...
But in any case, the fox was beautiful, in a unique, exotic way. Pressed on the subject, Derek supposed he might have imagined him to be an attractive as a human. But Derek had not given that much thought, had in fact rather stoically avoided much thought about the fox who somehow made himself pack--for, again, foxes were not long-lived creatures. And then the fox became a man, barely more than a boy in truth, and Derek should not have been surprised by his unique beauty, and yet he was.
In fact, it could be said that Derek was transfixed.
Stiles curled in the living room, tucked into one corner of the couch with Erica's head in his lap, her legs across Isaac's thighs at the other end of the couch. Derek watched over his pack, but could not deny that it was the fox he watched in particular. And hadn't it always been that way? Even before fox became boy, Derek's gaze was drawn to him, to his cleverness. He was charmed by brutal honesty and genuine compassion, by mulish determination undeterred by clumsiness, and occasional instances of such grace Derek was left longing for a way to pause, to rewind and watch over and over again. As it was, he watched as Stiles laughed at something on the television, his whole face and body expressing his joy, holding nothing back. His eyes crinkled, smile stretched wide to show a flash of blunt off-white teeth(a reflection of the fox's time in the forest that detracted from Stiles' attractiveness not in the least). Derek watched intently the glitter in those indescribable, yet simply brown, eyes. His expression transformed as quickly as before, sliding into that usual fascination he generally afforded the television, even infomercials. Tonight they were watching (more) Marvel movies; the last movie night had been dedicated to Star Trek, which Stiles seemed intent on watching every episode of ever.
Derek's gaze traveled from the familiar expression, down freckled planes of skin, a long neck, over one of Stiles' new graphic tees(his whole wardrobe was full of new clothes; Stiles couldn't stand thrift store clothes any more than Derek, and since the sheriff's pay was hardly exceptional, Derek had handed off his credit card to Erica with only slight hesitation), down the coarse hair of his long arm until his eyes finally found one large, long-fingered hand, the gnobbly fingers of which were absently stroking over Erica's curls. Derek examined her face while he was there, the open grin, the lazy eyes, the slight pinkening of her cheeks, an overall flush of happiness and contentment as she lay with her packmates. Derek savored the warmth of that sight, looking to find the same happy-content look on Isaac's sharp features. He looked to Stiles again then, for he truly could not resist. The haircut and shave had made a world of difference, although he still had mixed feelings on the fact Erica had insisted he get some sort of stylish cut rather than the buzz he had evidently argued in favor of. Derek was of the opinion that the stylish cut drew far too much attention, but was disinclined to voice it for he was also of the opinion that the stylish cut was very stylish.
He didn't look all that long at Stiles' hair though, green gaze drawn unerringly back to that ridiculously expressive face. Derek could never see to look away for long. The upturned nose was oddly familiar, although Derek hadn't noticed Stiles had a particularly upturned nose as a fox. His eyes were the most familiar, and an addiction Derek was compelled by and unable to break from. They were the same eyes as the fox Derek had curled around at night, the same fox who had thrown himself off the roof to knock some sense into Derek, and their translation from fox to human was...fascinating. Derek drank in his heady scent, drowned in his improbable eyes, and basked in the warmth he radiated by simply being. It felt like he was taking advantage, as if his pack were built by Stiles and Derek had stolen it, but with everyone so happy, Derek simply didn't have it in his heart to regret it. He already had enough regrets, in any case; he hardly even had room for more.
Stiles yawned abruptly, interrupting his placid facial features and earning himself a punch in the hip from Erica. Derek chuckled under his breath as Stiles squawked at her, reminescent of his fox yip. She just grinned, unabashed, and Stiles slid further down on the couch, snuggling closer to his packmate as they watched the movie.
"Ugh, I totally ship them," Erica grumbled, sounding put-out. Derek looked to the screen, where Iron Man and Captain America were interracting on-screen, then back to Erica with a frown of confusion.
"Tony and Steve?" Stiles asked, like he understood perfectly what she had just said, which meant Derek wasn't going to get an explanation for whatever the hell shipping was. A moment later though, Stiles was frowning at her, poking insistently at her temple until she looked at him, clearly irritated at having to look away from the movie. Fucking nerds, the lot of them. Did that make Derek king of the nerds? Oh god.
"You never explained what shipping is," Stiles stated, slightly plaintive but mostly just curious.
"Dude, I totally explained it last week," Erica protested. Isaac sighed and paused the movie.
"This is a good part," he said by way of explanation when he received confused looks from his packmates. He made a 'go on' gesture though, sitting back to wait patiently, so Erica and Stiles' attention returned to each other.
"It's--relationship..ping. Like, you just really want these people, fictional or real, to make out," Erica informed Stiles, never one for in-depth explanations. Which makes absolutely no sense to Derek, but after thinking it over briefly, Stiles actually looks like he gets it.
"So basically, you ship Derek and I?" Stiles asked, doe-eyed and sweet and wow Derek had never made it up the stairs that fast before he was actually sort of impressed with himself. He still heard Erica laughing hysterically downstairs, but once he turned the shower on he could drown them out all but the explosions from the television with minimal effort.