title: just accusation, which was the prompt
length: 512 words
warning: kinda fluffly, mention of love-making
pairing: stiles stilinski/derek hale
summary: Derek accuses Stiles of something he says he didn't do.
also, not beta'd.
Derek looked right up to the ceiling. He definitely was not going to get used to this darling thing anytime soon. He stared right back at Stiles, who was comfortably settled in the sofa, drinking a cherry-flavored soda.
‘Did you tear one of my shirts up?’
Stiles suddenly looked completely baffled.
‘What are you talking about?’
Derek sighed and showed him the t-shirt. It was in complete rags.
‘I’m talking about this, Stiles. Why did you do this?’
Now the boy in the sofa was just outraged.
‘Well, I’m sorry, but why should everything be my fault? Alright, the other day, it was me who stole the remote control, we didn’t lose it, I just wanted you to be stuck with a program that you absolutely hate and a television that doesn’t have channel-changing buttons on it – but seriously, this isn’t my fault!’
Derek stared blankly at Stiles, not even being able to sigh anymore. He would probably lost all the air in his lungs before either of them died – which was a horrible thing to think about.
‘I’m not! I didn’t do anything!’
‘Yes you did.’
‘No, I didn’t!’
‘Then how comes this shirt smells like you?’
The boy’s eyebrows lifted up, and he got up, getting closer to Derek. He watched the shirt with attention, trying to get something he was probably missing.
‘Oh – my God,’ he muttered.
Stiles looked up at Derek, a smile plastered all over his face. One of those smiles.
‘This is the shirt – the shirt that you were wearing the other day before –’
His eyes were sparkling with excitement, and Derek did not think he was going to like what was coming at him.
’ - before we got down to business,’ he said really fast, quickly followed by a very loud: ‘OH MY GOD, DEREK!’
It all came rushing back to him. How Stiles had jumped on him right the moment he had opened the door, how he had begun to lick that one particular spot behind his left ear, how the boy had almost thrown him – which was not an easy thing to do, considering their respective heights and weights – on their bed, before lifting up the Alpha’s shirt and kissing every inch of his torso, how he unfastened their belts so quickly he doubted Stiles was simply human and how -
how this had put him in such a lust-craving state, almost unbearable, that he had to go to the bathroom, his shirt back on, and let his werewolf side take control of him for a moment. Obviously, the thing just ripped itself.
‘Oh – my – God. You are – you are turning into Scott at the beginning of his relationship with Allison! You are – holy God, that means I am your Allison.’
Stiles was practically squealing by then, and the sour wolf went back to their bedroom, feeling somewhat shameful.
comments are ♥