CARRIE MY LOVE I just got back from a wedding and I have a prompt that is thus: single dad!Derek's little boy is the ringbearer at the wedding, and said little boy befriends groomsman!Stiles. BONUS POINTS if there is dancing to Uptown Funk.
Derek sinks into the chair, resisting the urge to toe off his dress shoes. It’s the first time all day he’s gotten a chance to sit down, and his feet are killing him. He’s got his eyes on Mick, good, at least his son has the decency to keep on his ringbearer’s outfit until half the reception is over. Eight o’clock, Derek promised, and the poor kid could have out of that monkey suit and go back up to the hotel room for cartoons and bed, no more of “boring grownup party stuff.”
As for Derek, he tired of the grownup party stuff years ago. Probably when Mick was born and his ex-wife said no, she didn’t sign up for a werewolf kid or the entire pack and the associated shenanigans.
It’s all for the best. Derek doesn’t need a partner, had done right by himself raising his son, and probably before that, his younger sister.
Cora is beaming, dancing with her wife in the middle of the ballroom floor; the lights are shining down upon them. A soft garland of amaryllis is woven into Cora’s dark curls, and she just looks so happy.
It makes Derek’s heart swell, glad that his sister found someone. He wasn’t too sure about Lydia at first, banshees can be quite temperamental, but in the time that he’s gotten to know her, he’s never been more certain that she and his sister bring out the best in each other. Lydia’s pack seems well qualified as well, Derek’s heard a lot about them, has nothing but respect for Scott McCall and his formidable Emissary.
The Emissary is supposedly at the wedding, too, but Derek hasn’t been formally introduced yet. Oh well. They’ll have plenty of time for official pack alliances and introductions later.
Something about the romantic music and the way other couples are flocking to the floor now makes Derek’s heart ache in a way he forgot; he’s never been more painfully aware of his single status than watching couples hold each other close at a wedding and make hearteyes at each other, whispering about either when this will be their turn or waxing nostalgic about their former wedding day.
There was someone who caught Derek’s eye earlier, but he’s been way too busy corralling Mick and making sure he had his ringbearer duties dialed in, making sure Mick kept his suit jacket on and that damn bowtie on his neck and not his head.
There were a group of guys getting ready and patiently waiting for Lydia’s instructions on how to properly put on the boutonnieres and pose in the photos, and Derek was dropping off Cora’s present to the other bride.
The man– someone in Lydia’ bridal party– winked at Derek, and he was stunned by both the warm amber of his eyes and the way he laughed with the other men, laughed with his whole head back like he thought the world was nothing but a delight. The man’s throat was nothing but a pale long column that Derek wanted to lick, and he needed to shake himself to get him moving again, that he wasn’t some college aged kid anymore who had the balls to ask anyone out.
Derek is an adult. A responsible one, with a six year old son.
Derek takes a sip of the wine at the dinner table and waits; the second course is yet to come out but most of the wedding guests have now joined Cora and Lydia on the dance floor.
He spots Mick drawing a crowd in the middle of the floor. Kid always loved to dance. His son waves at him, and Derek waves back.
Mick rushes over. “Dad! Dad! Stiles said he would dance with me! He’s so cool he was talking to me during the entire ceremony about sage and wolfsbane and he knows so many things please Dad please?”
“Okay?” Derek says. He has no idea what a Stiles is. Some elderly relative of Lydia’s maybe?
