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"Oh my god health class was so very useless and I'm pregnant with a baby in the oven--a bun in the oven! I'm WITH CHILD. Up the duff. On stork watch. In the pudding club! I'll be eating for two. Congratulations, Derek," Stiles sounded more hysterical with each euphemism his brain came up with and by then, he was practically shrieking. "Your boys made the swim team."

Derek Hale, ferocious Alpha wolf of the Beacon Hills Pack, defeater of numerous evil supernatural beings, six foot tall, muscular, able to slam people into walls, owner of a jet black fancy Camaro, and with the face of a serial killer--woke up from his dead faint to voices arguing above him and a glassful of ice-cold water splashed on him.

"Oh! He's awake!" a voice sounded from his right. Derek blearily identified it as Allison Argent, hunter fiancée of Scott McCall, head beta of Derek's pack.

"Oh good, he's out of his swooning state," sneered a different, deeper voice that Derek linked to Jackson Whittemore, a strange werewolf that had lizard tendencies (Stiles tended to call him the "were-lizard"). Derek was about to open his mouth to protest his blackout (and why had he blacked out anyways?) being called a "swoon" when a second splash of water was dumped over him. This time, ice cubes clattered against his teeth where his mouth had parted to talk and Derek choked a bit on the water that made it in.

"I'm not sure that he's totally awake yet guys, maybe we should dump some more water on him," someone snarled viciously as more water gets dumped onto Derek. Derek at this point is fully awake and swings his hands up to block most of the water and ice cubes (was it just him, or was there more ice this time?) and to wipe his eyes so he can see clearly. From the empty glass in his hand and the bucket of ice next to him, Derek surmises that Stiles is the one that was cruelly pouring water on him.

"Stiles," croaked Derek before clearing his throat a bit and starting over. "Stiles, why are you--" he splutters as Stiles tosses one last glassful of ice water at him before Isaac snatches the ice bucket away --bless the boy.

"Why?" asked Stiles, voice a higher pitch than usual, "Why?! He asks me why I'm freaking out, yes?"

"Uh..." Derek, ferocious Alpha of the Beacon Hills Werewolf Pack is speechless and a bit scared of what the wrong answer would do.

"Because you knocked me up you asshole!" Stiles snarled, sounding remarkably like a werewolf and terrifyingly like Derek in a rage. Knocking aside the restraining hands on him (although Derek noticed that they weren't very restraining, more soothing and worried), he launched himself at Derek and grabbed a hold of Derek's shoulders and shook him roughly. Derek finally reacted and dragged Stiles off of him to hold him at arms length.

"What--oh my god." Derek blinked as he remembered the conversation before he apparently fell unconscious.

"Yes. Yes, oh my god." Stiles snapped at Derek, "Except for you, it's more oh my god I'm Stiles' baby daddy. For me, it's more like oh my god health class was so very useless and I'm pregnant with a baby in the oven--a bun in the oven! I'm WITH CHILD. Up the duff. On stork watch. In the pudding club! I'll be eating for two. Congratulations, Derek," Stiles sounded more hysterical with each euphemism his brain came up with and by then, he was practically shrieking. "Your boys made the swim team."

"What?" Allison whispered to Scott in the background, none of the pack had deigned to interfere with Stiles' hysterical shrieking. Derek was still too much in shock to do much other than stare at Stiles like a ton of bricks had not only hit him, but had animated and started playing hit the piñata with Derek as the piñata.

"Uh, like, you know? Sperm...boys...swimming...team?" Scott whispered awkwardly back at Allison. She seemed amused and pulled out her phone to tap it into her notes. Scott glanced at it, a bit worried about his own future.

Lydia was gleefully taking a video of the whole fiasco.

Stiles was still going strong.

"I am preggers. Preggo, preggy, pregnant. I am a male freak of nature that is pregnant--oh wait! It's not me, it's all totally you. With your freak of nature sperm." And with that, Stiles stops to take a breather.

Derek kind of closes his jaw with an audible snap and croaks out a "oh my god" before fainting again.

Stiles looks resignedly at the prone body of his lover, Alpha, and baby daddy before climbing off him and starting to walk towards the kitchen before turning around suddenly and aiming a spiteful kick at Derek's flank.

"Ok. So while Papa Wolf is out of commission, we are going to re-heat the food and eat it all. And then we are going to each get out laptops and research the fuck out of this." The pack nods in agreement with Stiles words, heading towards the kitchen to start bringing out plates and silverware. Scott lingers though, and tilts his head at Stiles, asking if he's feeling ok.

"I'm...fine, I guess? I'm just really freaked out and my whole take on life has just been altered," Stiles sighs and shakes his head. "Maybe you should call Deaton, he might know something about this." Scott nods and walks down the hallway, pulling out his phone as he went.

"Goddamit," Stiles muttered as he raked his fingers through his hands. Life had been so much simpler a couple hours ago when he'd been sucking Derek's brain through his dick. "I'm going to murder you, Derek, if you knew this was a possibility," he promised under his breath before joining the others in the kitchen.

--

Except none of them would let him do anything. Isaac was put on "keep Stiles in his seat" duty and made sure that anything Stiles wanted was in front of him.

"Guys," whined Stiles, "I need to do something!"

"The only reason you're in this mess if because you did something, Stilinski," snickered Jackson before Lydia smacked him with a serving spoon.

"Stiles, you've got a wittle baby in you now, we're just trying to protect you!" Lydia said brightly, completely dignified even though she'd added in baby talk right in the middle of a sentence. She then proceeded to ignore Stiles' complaints about not even being a week pregnant and went to wash the serving spoon she'd used to hit Jackson.

"Stiles," said Scott, walking into the kitchen and pausing to snort at the image in front of him. Isaac was pressing a hand on Stiles' shoulder while Stiles tried to talk him out of guarding him.

"What, Scott?" asked Stiles irritability.

"Deaton says he doesn't know anything about this, and that he'll look through his stuff." Stiles nodded to show he'd heard and then made a face when Scott added, "Oh, and he says 'congratulations'."

"Ugh, fine then--"

"Stiles!" shouted Erica, turning to face him with a stricken expression. She looked ridiculous with a salad bowl clutched to her chest. "Stiles!" she repeated, this time a bit softer (but still quite loud). "How're you gonna tell your dad?"

Stiles stared blankly at Erica before groaning and collapsing onto the table, laying his face into his arms.

"Nooooo, I'm doomed!"


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