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It was that time of year.
The time of year you bark out a mucus filled, big nasty, coughs. When your ears a clogged from it, when your throat is so raw it burns when you swallow. And because he himself was a human he wasn't immune to this hell, and with Stilinski luck he was fortunate enough to catch it.
Derek was off on Alpha duty while the pack was all in school, or work. So here was Stiles curled up in the bed of Derek's loft, with seven blankets piled and slayed on top of him, making him invisible. With the room dark, tissues by him, a mucus bucket to his right Stiles was going to be fine. His computer was playing the Life of Pi, which was sadly almost over. It was defiantly a tear jerker and Stiles was a total sap. Hell when he and Derek saw the Great Gatsby he sobbed in the full theater along with the other women.
'I wept like a child. Not because I was overwhelmed at having survived, although I was. I was weeping because Richard Parker left me so unceremoniously. It broke my heart. You know my father was right: Richard Parker never saw me as his friend. After all we had been through he didn't even look back. But I have to believe there was more in his eyes than my own reflection staring back at me. I know it, I felt it. Even if I can't prove it. You know, I left so much behind: my family, the zoo, India, Anandi. I suppose in the end, the whole of life becomes an act of letting go. But what always hurts the most is not taking a moment to say goodbye. I was never able to thank my father for all I learned from him. To tell him, without his lessons I would never have survived. I know Richard Parker's a tiger but I wish I had said, "It's over. We survived. Thank you for saving my life. I love you, Richard Parker. You'll always be with me. May God be with you.'
Jesus who wouldn't cry at that?!?
That's when his throat constricted, another dreaded burning sensation built up and he combusted into a mess of wet coughs that drowned the room. Feeling the slick puss rise in his throat that burned like bile Stiles flung himself to the bucket his computer flying off the bed with a crash followed by little scratches. Quickly he cleared his throat once more before looking to see his Mac in bittersweet pieces.
"Mother fucker!" Stiles said, tears falling out of his eyes. He hated being sick, not only did he hate the feeling but it reminded him he could. That he could get a simple cold and his mother got sick too, just not with a cold. Rather a deadly cancer that consumed her in the end. The salty water streaked his rosy and hot cheeks and he just cried for God knows how long until he felt the bed dip next to him.
Stiles shot up seeing the vague figure of Derek sitting on his knees to his left. Without words Derek pressed a hand to his forehead wincing right away.
"You're sick." Derek said.
Stiles blinked once, the burning coming once more and wack! A giant, mordifying cough stuck and it hurt like hell. Stiles could feel his inner throat walls clashing, his eyes tight, and his ears hummed with blood. Derek put his hands around Stiles throat which made Stiles tense and think awful thoughts but when every pain melted away Stiles knew his wolf took away the pain. Awe, such as softy.
"Don't remind me. Also my computer is smashed and I never finished the best movie ever, then lets not forget that nasty bucket of sludge." Stiles whined, now feeling a bit better. Though when Derek's face crunched up from the pain Stiles felt way worse.
Once more without words Derek helped him into a comfortable laying position, and took his temperature which was 101.6 which wasn't okay but wasn't 'bad'. Stiles hoped Derek wouldn't pry about his previous breakdown, and really just snuggle up. It's not like the older man could get sick, werewolves are just that damn awesome. Then again it's most likely their connection with Apollo the God of healing who was contacted when that Lycaon myth went down. Must have been cloud nine knowing you'd heal and be healthy forever.
"I would have stayed home if you were sick." Derek whispered, pressing a kiss to Stiles' forehead his soft lips lingering longer than the words.
"Yeah, but you have Alpha needs. I wasn't going to ruin that."
"You're more important than a lunch with other pack Alphas Stiles." Derek said, and a ave of chills ran down Stiles' spine. He managed to hum before Derek's hand running through his hair lulled him into a light sleep. It was blissfull, light, and just what he needed. Only to have Derek wake him up to chicken noddle.
Stiles eyed his boyfriend before taking the hot bowl from him taking a bite with vigilance. The only thing worse than being sick was being sick with burn taste buds. And explosion of flavors bombarded his tongue and Stiles couldn't help but moan and take another sinfully good bite with expected gusto.
"I should get sick more often." Stiles mused, half the soup gone and Derek now sitting next to him.
"Just eat your soup." Derek said, playfulness in his tone.
Stiles did without hesitation, because, well, damn it was the best thing he'd ever put in his mouth.
Well besides...you know what never mind.