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“Stop squirming.”
“You’re getting too close to my eye.” At Derek’s response, Allison pulls her hand away from his face, glaring down at him.
“Well, I wouldn’t be if you’d just sit still.” And in her defense, she makes a good point. So, despite the narrowing of his eyes, he does as he’s told, and she dips her fingers back into the container of her favorite face mask.
It was her idea, of course, to do this. But it’s supposed to be for his benefit, despite the many, many times he’s assured her that werewolves, by definition, can’t have skin problems.
“It’s not just about helping your skin.” She said, not letting up on the puppy dog eyes she’s mastered over the years. “It’s relaxing. It’s fun, a concept I know you’re not familiar with. But-“
“I’m fun.” He insisted. She raised an eyebrow and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I am.”
“Prove it.”
And he’s never been able to turn down a challenge.
That’s how he wound up in their bathroom, sitting on Allison’s makeup stool, with some sort of mint-and-rose concoction on his face. If he’s being honest, the look on Allison’s face - the one she gets when she’s concentrating really hard, eyebrows furrowed and part of her tongue sticking out - is enough to make it all worth it.
She has her hair up in a ponytail, and she never wears it up anymore, so he’s got a rare view of her long neck. He can see the tendons shift under her skin as she surveys her work to make sure she hasn’t missed any spots.
“Okay, all done.” But he doesn’t even hear her say it, because he’s still watching her. “What?” Blinking a couple of times, he meets her eyes.
“Nothing.” He says. “You’re just beautiful.” Her entire expression softens by at least 267%, and she smiles at him.
“Derek...” The smile cracks into a full-blown grin. “I’m sorry. It’s just - it’s really hard to take you seriously when you look like Shrek.”
Sure enough, when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he bears a striking resemblance to the green ogre.
“Christ.” He mutters, turning back to her. “Alright, your turn.” He stands and she takes his spot on the stool.
“Don’t use too much, okay?” She hands him the black container. “This stuff is expensive.”
“Just for that I’m using the whole thing.” He says. “And just on your forehead.” He ignores the glare she throws him as he gets to work.
He’s watched her do this a thousand times in the time they’ve been together, and he’s not an idiot, so he has a vague idea of the process. He gently smooths the baby hairs back off of her forehead and starts there, essentially painting her green. He methodically, thoughtfully, drags a thumb down the bridge of her nose.
“You look so fucking cute right now.” Allison mutters, adoration swimming in her voice. He shushes her, not because he’s embarrassed by the comment, but just because he’s concentrating.
He easily takes twice as long as she normally would and, when she stands to look in the mirror, he smiles at her reflection proudly. She glances at him, then returns her eyes to her own face before she starts laughing.
“We look like idiots.” He joins in her laughter at her words, coming up behind her at the counter.
“Yeah, we do.” Her phone chimes with a text and, judging by the ringtone, it’s from Lydia.
“Oh my god.” She says like she’s just discovered the meaning of life. “We should totally-“
“Do not FaceTime Lydia.” Derek cuts her off, but she’s already opening the app.
Lydia answers on the second ring, despite the late hour.
“Hey- oh my god.”
“Who is it?” Stiles asks off-camera, and he suddenly appears on the other end as Lydia tilts the phone to show him. “Oh my god.” And they’ve been together for too long, because his tone is eerily identical to hers.
Derek has a headache.
“What the hell is going on over there?” Stiles asks. Derek is trying his best to stay out of the shot, but Allison manages to keep at least half of his face in at all times. “What is it, Shrek role play night?” Allison throws a pointed look at Derek who pretends like he didn’t hear it.
“I think it’s cute.” Lydia says, turning the camera back on herself. “Stiles never does stuff like that with me.”
“What the hell, Stiles?” Allison asks, and Derek knows it’s just to fuel the inevitable - playful and good-natured - argument between Lydia and Stiles.
“Yeah, Stiles.” Lydia turns to her boyfriend. “What the hell?”
“Oh, now you’ve done it.” He groans, grabbing the phone from Lydia. “Thanks a lot, Derek.”
“Me?” Mirroring Stiles, Derek takes the phone from his girlfriend’s hand to address the younger man directly. “How’s this my fault?” Stiles rolls his eyes.
“Oh, please.” He says. “If you weren’t so whipped, you wouldn’t do the things that I’m expected to do.” Allison laughs at his words, but Lydia doesn’t seem so amused from the part of her face they can see on the side.
“And, with that, I think it’s time we washed these off.” Allison takes her phone back and simply offers Stiles a smile when he glares at her. “Good luck.” And then she hangs up.
She looks thoroughly satisfied.
“Be honest with me.” Derek says as Allison plugs her phone into the wall. “Did you do that just to make Lydia jealous?”
“What?” She asks, looking up at him. The innocence in her eyes is fake. “No. Of course not.”
“Allison.”
“I didn’t!”
Silence, paired with narrowed eyes.
“Okay, maybe a little.” She admits with a small smirk. He’s still giving her the same expression when she looks back. “What? It’s not like Lydia hasn’t tried to make me jealous in her own ways over the years.”
Derek shakes his head a little, but doesn’t press the matter. Mostly because it’s true. Allison touches the outside of his hand lightly.
“I don’t agree with Stiles, by the way.” He looks up from where their fingers are now laced together, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think you’re whipped.” Now both of his eyebrows are sailing into his hairline as best they can under the face mask.
“Do you see my face, Allison?” He asks. “I’m absolutely whipped.”
Her face falls a little, and he reaches out with his free hand to tilt her chin up.
“But I love you.” He explains. “So I don’t mind.” Her smile returns, big and bright, and it causes one to tug at his own mouth.
“Love you too.” Allison pulls back her hand from his so she can carefully work her tank top over her head without getting the mask on it. “I’m going to go hop in the shower so I can wash this off without making a mess of the counter.”
“Alright.” Derek goes for a tissue, to clean up the couple of places where there’s green on the counter.
There’s a beat of silence.
“You going to join me or what?” His face breaks into a grin.
“Absolutely.”