Chapter Text
The first time Derek came to pick Isaac up from day camp, the other adults gave him a wide berth. It was understandable. He was standing close to the fence and had on tight black jeans, a dark grey shirt, his favourite leather jacket and the sunglasses Laura referred to as his Asshole Chic shades. Not to mention, he had Cyrus with him. People got twitchy when faced with a giant black animal, regardless of who accompanied them. A prickly-looking owner only added to their unease.
It wasn’t really a hardship, though. In fact, it was one of the many reasons he liked to bring Cyrus with him. He didn’t want to make small talk with strangers or--god forbid--fend off flirtations. He got tongue-tied and awkward when he had to deal with people he didn’t know, because he never knew what to expect from them or what they expected from him.
Cyrus was easy. He stayed at Derek’s side, calm and collected, his warm body and soft fur keeping Derek grounded. Cyrus would wait, walk, run or ride with him, wherever he went. The only thing he wanted in return was a scratch behind the ears, and a biscuit every so often.
There was a woman close to the doors that kept shooting them suspicious glares. The kind with blonde hair cut on a weird “edgy” angle and dark roots, who probably asked to see managers at grocery stores so they could bitch about the cashier. She looked like she thought Cyrus would break off his leash any moment and start going for people's throats. Nevermind that Cy was sitting at Derek’s feet, the leash slack before it wound around Derek’s wrist.
The thin black leather leash and small chain collar were more of a formality anyway. Cyrus responded to Derek. Derek’s movements, commands, emotions, they were perfectly in tune. And with a dog as large as this, it didn’t matter how sturdy the leash and collar were, if Cy wanted to be gone, they weren’t going to stop him.
“Almost done,” Derek murmured. Cyrus looked up at him, then nudged his nose against Derek’s hand. That was another good thing about Cyrus. He was a excellent conversationalist. “Isaac will be the last one out, though.”
Cyrus settled onto his stomach with a sigh, head still alert. Derek interpreted this as I don’t mind waiting, we have time. The front doors of the camp’s main building opened, and the counsellors led the different age groups outside before handing the children off to waiting adults.
Kids were quickly collected and herded toward the parking lot. Derek moved a few more yards away from the gate. Just because he knew Cyrus wouldn’t bite anyone didn’t mean he wanted to encourage children to touch strange animals.
At least half the kids were gone before the group of 6-8 year olds even made it out the door. At the front of their line was a counsellor with floppy dark hair and a pleasant smile. The guy got distracted from handing off the children when the mom who had sneered at Derek and Cyrus earlier started talking to him. The kids bottlenecked at the door, before another man wiggled his way to the front and started pointing them in the direction of the waiting adults.
The new man had a fascinating way of moving. A sort of fluid grace that was peppered with bursts of energy. He nearly knocked a kid in the head with a quick move of his elbow, pulling back at just the right moment to avoid connecting. He gave friendly waves, and doled out enthusiastic high-fives and goodbyes, while steadily working through eight of the children. The ninth child was standing at sneering mom’s elbow, and looking bored out of her skull. Child ten was...Well, Derek had said he would be last.
Derek started walking toward the door, Cyrus rising gracefully and moving along at his side. The counsellor ducked his head back into the building for a moment. When he popped back out, Isaac was with him, talking a mile a minute while trying to get his backpack on. The counsellor nodded along, smiling encouragingly. When the backpack was finally in place, they both cheered before exchanging a light fist bump. Derek loved watching Isaac’s look of concentration as he tapped his fist against the man’s, slightly off center despite his efforts.
Once Isaac caught sight of Derek and Cyrus approaching, he gave a shout and pointed them out to the counsellor. At the man’s nod, he raced toward them, flinging himself at Derek’s legs. “Hi Uncle Derek.” Derek didn’t have time to return the hug before Isaac was letting go to wrap his arms around Cyrus’ neck and bury his hands in his thick fur. “Hi Cyrus, I missed you so much.”
A bright laugh rolled toward them, and Derek directed his focus away from Isaac. The counsellor was walking toward them. “This must be the infamous Cyrus, Dog Wonder.”
Derek flushed, discomfited by both the unexpected attention and the attractiveness of the counsellor. Derek wasn’t good at talking to people, and flirting, he was downright hopeless at. “This is Cyrus, but I’m not sure about the ‘infamous dog wonder’ part.”
“Uncle Derek, of course Cy is a wonder dog, he can do like ten different tricks, at least.” Isaac insisted. He was on his knees pushing his face into Cy’s neck while the dog sat patiently.
“And what makes him infamous?” Derek asked. Isaac frowned.
The counsellor chuckled. “Ah, that would be the epic tales of his exploits that Isaac tells us. I’ve heard so much about this dog, it feels like I’ve already met him.”
“But you haven’t,” Derek pointed out. The man’s smile dimmed a bit, and Derek felt like a heel. “We could fix that. Cyrus, say hello.” Cyrus, pushed his weight onto his back legs, held one paw forward in greeting, and gave a short, low bark.
The smile returned in full force as the counsellor took the outstretched paw gingerly. “Hello, Cyrus, I’m Stiles.”
Derek let the name roll around his brain, and wondered how it would taste of his tongue. “Stiles,” he said, softly. It felt nice, and he thought it would be nice to discover all the ways a person could say it, and how it fit with the man in front of him.
“And if our pick up list is correct, you would be Uncle Derek, right?” Stiles offered a hand. He had cool, dry skin and his fingers were the kind of long and thin that was often considered delicate, but his firm grip spoke of hidden strength. Derek’s own fingers practically twitched with the desire for something to draw with, so he could explore those hands more thoroughly.
Before he could respond his affirmative, a nasal voice cut in, “Tell him Mr. McCall. I won’t stand for this.”
The other counsellor and that stupid sneering mom were coming toward them. McCall was frowning in bewilderment, while the woman’s pinched face shot a glare at Derek.
“What’s up, Scotty?” Stiles asked.
Scott gave him a hesitant smile. “Hey, Stiles. Um, Mrs. Johnson is concerned--”
“I’m concerned about the safety risk of having such a large animal near the campers,” Mrs. Johnson cut in. “Of course, I would never want to cause any trouble--”
“Of course not,” Stiles said under his breath.
“--but I would hate to see something happen to one of the children here because no one said anything,” she continued. “I really have everyone's best interests at heart.”
“I’m sure,” Stiles murmured with a tight smile.
Scott shared a commiserating look with Stiles. “I explained to Mrs. Johnson that--”
“Mr. McCall said that you have no policies in place that say people can’t have pets with them for pick up, but I think that is a gross oversight on the part of Camp Nemeton, and if the coordinators had realized issues like this would arise, they would have put rules in place long ago. This animal shouldn’t be allowed here.”
Mrs. Johnson’s presence alone had caused Derek to stiffen, but the prospect of not having Cyrus with with him made him go completely rigid. Isaac popped up from his place on the ground. “That’s not fair! Kyle’s mom brings her chihuahua all the time, and nobody cares. Cyrus is way better trained than Cupcake.”
Mrs. Johnson turned her pinched expression on Isaac. “A chihuahua is far less aggressive than a large dog like this.”
“It’s not, actually. They’re statistically way more likely to bite,” Stiles interjected. “And it would be a complete double standard for us to allow some people to bring their dogs in and not others, based solely on the size of the animal. We make a point here at Camp Nemeton to teach kids about safety, including interacting with animals, and so far we have never had a problem. If Cyrus showed signs of being aggressive or even just too rambunctious with the kids, then that would be a different story. However, he has been a perfect gentlemen his whole time here. Derek, should we be concerned about Cyrus reacting aggressively toward the children?”
Derek shook his head and muttered, “Only if you’re worried he’ll lick them to death.”
Isaac giggled and the two counsellors tried not to grin. Mrs. Johnson huffed. “I just don’t want to put my little girl at risk over some politics.”
“Your little girl is currently climbing to the top of the jungle gym. On the outside,” Derek pointed out. He had seen the girl wander over to the play area at the beginning of the conversation, but had figured the woman didn’t care when the girl had started climbing.
Mrs. Johnson gasped, and stormed toward the sandbox, screaming at her child the whole way.
They all frowned after her until Isaac asked, “So, does that mean Cyrus can still wait for me?”
“Totally,” Stiles assured him. “If Cyrus is cool with us, we’re cool with him.”
Isaac looked just as relieved as Derek felt. “That’s good. Can we get our ice cream now?”
“What makes you think we’re getting ice cream?” Derek asked.
Isaac rolled his eyes and pinned him with an Are you kidding me? look that Derek would swear he had seen on Laura’s face. “Because we always get ice cream when you pick me up.”
“He’s been debating what flavour to get all day. I think he even took a poll at one point,” Stile said.
“We decided on one scoop of chocolate fudge and one scoop of mint chip.” Isaac informed them, solemnly.
Derek smiled. “Good choice. Say goodbye to your counsellors, please.”
“Bye Stiles, bye Scott. Sorry you don’t get ice cream.” Isaac waved over his shoulder and started pulling Derek toward the parking lot. The counsellors laughed and called out goodbyes. Derek looked back at them, and when their eyes met, Stiles wiggled his eyebrows and shot Derek a mock salute. Derek gave an awkward wave back and followed Isaac quickly so they wouldn’t see him blush.