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"Ow, shit! Is that your elbow?"
"No, Derek, that is not my elbow. I can’t even bend my arm right now!"
"I don’t know why you’re yelling like this is my fault. You’re the one who shoved me in here."
"First of all, I’m not yelling. If I yelled, that warlock would find us and we would be dead." Derek scoffs. Stiles ignores him and continues, "Second, I definitely saved your ass from getting magic zapped, so there."
"Yeah, because trapped in a closet with you in preferable to getting zapped."
"Hey, watch it, buster. I can move my foot and step on you."
If it wasn’t so dark, Stiles wouldn’t have to guess the ferocity of Derek’s glare. He’d be able to tell by the set of his eyebrows alone.
"I thought you said Scott was on his way?" Derek finally asks, teeth gritted in what Stiles fondly calls his "murder face".
"I think he is. I’m not sure he heard me over the screaming and the running while we were being chased."
"Great," Derek mutters. "Who knows how long we might be trapped in here."
"Aw, look on the bright side, Derek. We can work out our differences with a little grouchy making out." Stiles puckers his lips and leans forward, aiming for where he thinks Derek’s mouth is. He misses by a few inches and gets a mouthful of leather jacket. "Or, maybe not."
Since he can’t move much more than his head, he twists his neck to the side and kisses the curve of Derek’s jaw, working his way from there to the down-turned curve of his mouth. “C’mon. You’re not really mad, are you?”
Derek sighs and purses his lips enough to give Stiles a gentle peck on the mouth. “No, I’m not. I’m just annoyed that we’re stuck in here. It smells like bleach and dirty mop water.” Stiles twists his mouth to the side and shifts his feet.
"Yeah… I think I might be standing in that mop water." They’re so close that Stiles feels Derek grimace and he laughs softly, dropping his head onto Derek’s shoulder. "Only us, right? Only me and you would get trapped in a closet with a rampaging warlock on the loose."
Derek shifts his weight and Stiles takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around him as best he can in their cramped quarters. Derek does the same and Stiles smiles against his shoulder. “I’m sure Scott’s on his way. We’ll be out of here before you know it.”
~*~
Four hours later, Scott opens the sixth closet door in as many hallways and out tumbles a half-asleep Derek and a completely, and very solidly asleep Stiles.
"Before I know it, my ass," Derek mutters, hauling Stiles upright.
Scott looks between the two of them and shakes his head. “Next time Stiles says you guys are in trouble, remind him to tell me where.”