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The headlights from the other cars are starting to blur together. The windshield wipers are working overtime trying to keep the window clear enough to see. Music plays softly over the noise of the storm outside. Stiles quietly curses every few minutes, squinting at the road ahead.
"Babe, just pull over," Derek implores. "Let me drive for a while."
Stiles shakes his head. "I'm fine. I don't like it when you drive Baby."
Derek huffs out a breath. "It's been a long day. I promise I won't hurt your jeep, but you're going to hurt more than just the jeep if you keep swerving like you have been."
"I just want to get home."
"I know," Derek reasons. "I can get us there faster. I can see better."
"Stupid werewolf powers." Stiles leans further into the steering wheel, eyes barely blinking.
"Pull over. Let me drive for a while." Derek pauses, waiting for another rejection. When it doesn't come for a few minutes, he tries another tact. He unbuckles his seat belt and scoots to the middle seat, thigh pressing against Stiles'. He keeps one eye on the road as he settles a hand on Stiles' thigh, slowly turning inward to slip between his legs. "We could stop. Take a little break. Maybe the storm will pass." His fingers brush against Stiles dick and the car swerves. Derek easily takes the steering wheel and corrects them. "Look, there's a McDonald's at the next exit."
Stiles growls, but acquiesces to Derek's request and takes the next exit. "You're not driving her."
"I've driven her before," Derek points out.
"When I've been deathly injured! That doesn't count! I couldn't stop you!"
"You would've chosen vampires sucking your blood over me driving you and your jeep the hell out of there?"
Stiles pauses, contemplating.
"That wasn't a real question!" Derek exclaims. "Like hell was I going to pause to consider your feelings about your jeep when your life was in danger."
"I still don't want you to drive her. She's delicate."
"She's been through almost as much as you," Derek says. "I don't think that word means what you think it means."
"Don't 'Princess Bride' me." He pulls into the McDonald's parking lot, shifting the jeep into park. He turns to find Derek quirking one eyebrow at him. "Don't - "
"As you wish." Derek's mouth presses to his before he has time to contradict him.
Stiles would like to say that Derek's lips weren't a distraction, but he'd be lying. He could write sonnets to Derek's lips. He could - but he'd rather spend his time reacquainting himself with them.