AN: No dogs or werewolves were harmed in the making of this fic.

"Stiles, for the last time," Derek growled, "we are not getting a dog."

Where Stiles had gotten such an idiotic idea Derek didn't know but he had been pestering Derek the whole week and it was starting to get on his nerves. Fortunately, Stiles still needed to go to school and Derek could have had at least a few hours of peace without persistent Stiles following him around. Unfortunately, they were now facing a weekend, and he had nowhere to escape.

Of course, Derek could always bite Stiles' head off, but that would raise awkward questions like 'why is your boyfriend running around with no head?'

"You have a pack of wolves around you, what do you need a dog for?" Derek tried to reason.

"I have a pack of werewolves around me. They aren't exactly the same," Stiles pouted. "They're mean and ugly and frankly I think they wish to get rid of me half the time."

"Nah, come on."

Derek captured Stiles between his arms and tried to kiss him but Stiles turned his head away and he got a mouthful of his ear instead.

"Oh, you're not going to kiss your way out of this, mister. Give me one good reason why we can't get a dog. What's one more canine?"

Derek groaned, and his mental-shoulders slumped. He had never been a charmer, but it had been worth the shot.

"Because I say so?"

"I believe I said a good reason."

"Well, since you're so hellbent on this, why don't you give me a good reason? If you can come up with at least one that we both agree on, I promise, we will get a dog."

Stiles pondered this for a moment, and then his mouth twisted into a knowing smirk revealing his dimples that like a siren lulled Derek into a false sense of 'he's so cute and harmless'. Derek gulped mentally; he really should have known better.

While not taking his eyes off Derek, Stiles climbed on his lap and straddled his hips. Thin arms sneaked behind Derek's neck, and foreheads bumped gently together. His weight was heavy and warm on Derek's lap, and his breath smelled sweet as it puffed against his skin.

"Because you love me and you'd give me the moon from the sky if it made me happy. But I'm only asking for a dog so consider yourself let off easy."

The Golden Retriever they brought home couple weeks later was probably the fluffiest thing Derek had ever seen. Dangerously cute and innocent looking. On their first night after the happy family occasion, Derek was exhausted. His wolf-side had been on edge the whole day while the dog had rummaged through their apartment getting acquainted with his new surroundings.

Stiles sat on the living room floor and tried to hold a little wriggling ball of fur and extra skin in his hands. Eagerly the puppy was trying to sniff and lick every inch of him at once and wagged his stub of a tail so fast he could barely keep his balance. Stiles' face beamed with absolute adoration.

What if it never sleeps, Derek's tired brain asked horrified.

"What should we call him?"

"Dog," Derek grunted from the couch.

"Ha. Funny. I was thinking – "

"His name will be Dog, or so help me. I'm still the damn alpha in this pack."

"Oh, he's such a big bad alpha," Stiles baby-talked to the dog. The puppy had caught one of Stiles' finger and was now gnawing on it happily with his baby teeth.

"Remind me why I agreed to this again?"

"Because you love me," Stiles smiled sweetly. "And I'm pretty much the only person here who has no hidden agendas against you."

"You extorted me to get a dog by telling me I didn't love you if I refused. How's that not a hidden agenda?"

"This, what we are doing here, is called compromising and it's important in a relationship."

"How are you compromising in here?"

Stiles turned to grin at him.

"Well duh, I let you name the dog."

The persistent whining from the kitchen woke Stiles up. Well, it didn't really wake him up as much as it was keeping him awake. For about a week now. All night, every night.

It was all Derek's fault, really. Soon after Dog had settled in, Derek had become his new mom. The puppy followed him everywhere, even to the bathroom. The attraction was entirely one-sided though. Derek kept trying to push the noisy and enthusiastic puppy away and scowled at Stiles every time he failed miserably.

"He's not going to sleep with us," Derek had put his foot down the first night. "It's our bedroom, it's my bedroom."

"But he'll be lonely," Stiles had tried to plead. "You're a pack animal too, you should know!"

"The dog. Will sleep. In the kitchen."

And that had been it. Even Stiles knew when not to push it.

It was nearly 3 am now and Dog had been crying pitifully non-stop; his high-pitched barks tore Stiles' ears and heart, but he tried to stay strong. He wanted to show Derek he could be a pack leader, too. In Stiles' mind, one didn't necessarily need fangs and claws to get shit done. All you needed were a little patience and earplugs. He will not get up and –

The mattress shook when Derek shoved the blanket aside all of a sudden and crawled out of the bed while muttering a silent curse under his breath. He stomped out of the bedroom and down the stairs. A moment later the whining in the kitchen stopped. Stiles enjoyed the quiet but was slightly worried had Derek finally gotten enough and silenced the puppy for good.

When he came back Stiles pretended to be asleep. The bed dipped when Derek laid back next to him.

"You can sleep here tonight," Stiles heard him talking, "but – no, stop licking me, damn it."

Derek's sigh was long and suffering but was effectively muffled by happy puppy noises.

"Dog," Derek said with a stern warning in his voice. "Settle down."

After that it finally got quiet.

Stiles waited for Derek's breathing to even out which didn't take long. He must have been exhausted, too, and was fast asleep in minutes, snoring a little. Stiles peeked over his shoulder and couldn't help but smile at the sight.

Derek was lying on his back, the blanket carelessly tossed over revealing his naked torso. His chest and belly rose rhythmically with his breathing. The tiny golden dog was sprawled possessively over the man's sternum, his short paws sticking out in every direction and nose buried in the crook of Derek's neck. Derek's right hand shielded the puppy's back protectively.

"My big bad wolves," he mumbled before sleep long overdue took over.

Dog never slept in the kitchen again.