YASD: Only One Bed
(Open, Moderated)
Recent works
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Summary
Pulling out his phone, Stiles said, “I’m sure dad’ll be thrilled to be woken up at two in the morning for an off the books amber alert, but he’ll suck it up.”
He’d only taken a few steps away before Derek said his name. Stiles turned back to see one of those little grabbing hands reaching out for him. Her eyes were brown, apparently, when they weren’t glowing, and they were wide and wet and looking up at him beseechingly from Derek’s arms, and Stiles couldn’t walk away from that.
“Oh, jeez.”
He was so screwed.
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Summary
It's been snowing for an hour, at least. It started slow at first, a gentle drifting of flakes that had reminded Stiles of Christmas cards and holiday specials, but the storm had given up on its holiday theme pretty quickly. Now, the snow is so thick, he can't make out anything more than a few steps in front of him.
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“Pick a bed, buddy.” Stiles could hardly hide the laugh in his voice.
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When Derek comes back to town for the Sheriff's memorial service, the last person he expects to find in a cheap motel lobby is Stiles.
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Summary
Stiles and Derek check into a motel to lick their wounds after a fight of the supernatural variety, but there's only one bed.