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"Dr Stilinski,” said the orderly, “there's someone here to see you when you're done."
"I'll only be a minute," said Stiles, blinking underneath the glare of the theatre lights.
"It's okay," said Melissa, cutting short the suture he was holding, "I'll sort out the dressing."
"Thanks," he said, snapping of his gloves and mopping his brow. "You okay, soldier?" he asked the little blond boy who had bravely let them stitch up his knee under local.
The boy nodded, and managed a shy little smile.
"Next time be careful on those go-karts," Stiles said, affectionately ruffling the kid's hair.
"Thank you, Doctor," the kid's mom said, while Stiles winked at her.
Stiles blew out his cheeks. It was a busy Saturday at Beacon Hills Memorial, and things weren't letting up. He and his other two colleagues had been running around without a break since they had started work at 7 am. By the time his shift ended, he'd barely have an hour before the pack meeting and time to sound-proof the house from eight werewolves running around howling in the forest so the kids wouldn't be woken up.
"Who is it?" Stiles asked one of the nurses, running down the corridor. He was feeling slightly queasy from hunger and dizzy from having had absolutely no respite since he had come on shift.
"I think you'll be glad to see him," was all she said, and motioned him into one of the consulting rooms.
"Hi babe," said Derek with a broad grin.
"Oh my God, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," said his husband, walking up to give him a kiss on the cheek.
"You smell... and look... exhausted," Derek said, nuzzling his mate and sniffing his scrubs.
"You can say that again. What are you doing here? I thought you were drowning in admin for tonight's meeting. And cooking."
"All taken care of. I came to bring you lunch."
"You're an angel and I'd marry you on the spot if I weren't already married to you."
Derek's face lit up. Whenever he smiled, Stiles would flush with adrenaline and twitch a bit with awe. Derek was just so damn beautiful when he smiled.
"Here," he said, pressing the little backpack into Stiles's hand. "Ham, cheese and mustard on a baguette just the way you like it. And some lemonade. And cookies."
"Peanut butter choc-chip?!"
"Yes. I just made 'em."
"Those things make me friggin' jizz in my pants they're so yummy," Stiles said with a naughty smile. Derek chuckled.
"That wouldn't be very professional behaviour for a doctor on duty now," said the werewolf, putting an arm around his mate and squeezing him close.
"I wish I could just sit here with you for a minute," Stiles said, running a hand through his dishevelled hair.
"You are sitting here with me for a bit," Derek said, raising his eyebrows.
"But the emergency room's overflowing."
"And you're going to be of no use to your patients if you collapse from exhaustion before you can help them. I spoke to the other doctors, they've ordered you to take a break, and then they'll do in turn. Honestly, I don't know how medics manage their time without going insane."
Derek was using his Alpha voice, but with a smile, so Stiles nodded and sat down.
He attacked his sandwich with gusto, and Derek watched him with satisfaction. One of the many ways he could get to Stiles's heart was through his stomach. It still amazed him after all these years together that a human could eat as much as a werewolf and yet retain a perfect physique.
"Where are the kids?" asked Stiles.
"Still at Scott and Allison with the twins. Last night's pyjama party has evolved into a picnic in the woods. Quite frankly I'm happy for the break to get the house ready. And come bring my poor frazzled overworked husband some lunch."
"Aw, babe, you're the best. But I'm going to kill Scott if he feeds them too much sugar and they run around like demons the whole evening."
"You'd think he'd have realised that by now. He's been a dad for longer that we have."
"This is Scott we're talking about," Stiles said, smirking. "I never understand how he can be such a great co-Alpha but leak his brains all over the place when it comes to the rest of his life."
Derek laughed, and then cocked his head.
"What's it?" said Stiles.
"Ambulance. About five minutes away."
"Shit," said Stiles. "Guess I better get back to the grindstone. Thanks for lunch."
"My pleasure," said his mate, and leaned in for a nuzzle. "And don't worry, the cooking's done. All you need to do is come home and, ahem, get your clothes off."
"What do you mean?"
Derek flashed him a wide grin. "I'm saying, Scott and Allison are keeping the kids for the whole day and will bring them back to the pack meeting. And I've told everyone to come an hour later."
Stiles raised an eyebrow.
"We haven't had... time alone for a while now," he said, licking his lips.
"Exactly," said Derek. "So the sooner you get back to work the sooner time will pass so you can come home."
The werewolf leant in even closer and nipped his mate on the earlobe so that he shivered.
"Oh my God," Stiles said, "Scott is totally going to know what we're getting up to."
"He's a married father with two rowdy kids as well," Derek countered. "All we have to do is babysit the McCall brood next weekend as payback."
"Awesome," said Stiles.
"Go," said Derek, shoving him gently towards the door. "While I think of all sorts of filthy things I'm going to do to you when you come home."
Stiles whooped and punched the air and Derek rolled his eyes. The werewolf straightened his husband’s crumpled scrub top, kissed him on the cheek and quietly exited via the staff entrance.
As Stiles heard the ambulance pulling up to the emergency room's entrance, he knew he could handle anything the shift could throw at him.
"Dr Stilinski to the E.R. please, calling Dr Stilinski," the intercom blared.
"Bring it on," Stiles said to himself.
It was going to be fine. Today was turning out to be awesome.