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Language:
English
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Published:
2019-11-17
Words:
840
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
131
Bookmarks:
6
Hits:
1,154

The Shitty Fucking Day From Hell

Summary:

Stiles has THE WORST DAY EVER.

Notes:

Rating is just for my use of the F word. I like it, it’s versatile.

Just a little story I couldn’t get out of my head, so I wrote it down.

Thanks for reading! And for any kudos and/or comments! :D

Work Text:

Stiles was having a bad day. No, that wasn’t right. Stiles was having the shitty fucking day from hell. 

 

First, he’d overslept and not even had enough time to eat breakfast. Then he remembered the Jeep was in the shop being repaired, again, and he'd have to call an Uber. He’d only noticed he’d locked his keys inside the house when he went back in for his umbrella, because of course it had started raining the moment the universe realised he was outside. He stood in the rain for a good fifteen minutes before a passing car got too close to the curb and sprayed him with freezing gutter slush. He had to walk in the wild weather soaking wet, because he must’ve left his phone at home too. And all of that was before the shitshow that was work. 

 

Frank, his shift supervisor at the San Francisco field office, was an utter douche all day and because he was so late Stiles got all of the crappy jobs a newer intern would usually have to do. 

 

Ugh. Just, ugh. 

 

He had forgotten to grab his lunch out of the fridge on his way out the door and the local cafes and delis usually had a line around the block during the lunch rush. He could sacrifice his lunch break to wait in line and possibly not even have time to eat, or he could ignore the clawing hunger in his gut and just wait until after work. 

 

He chose to ignore his stomach, and regretted it the whole afternoon. He couldn’t even text Derek for some virtual hugs because he didn’t have his phone. What a shitshow. 

 

Day. From. Hell. 

 

The afternoon dragged on and on, and not even the thought of his amazing husband waiting for him at home could lighten his mood. He reread a file a dozen times before he could comprehend any of it, and he wished harder with every passing second that the day would just fuck off and die. 

 

*

 

Dragging his feet and silently thanking Derek for leaving the door unlocked whenever he was home, Stiles turned to lock the front door behind him.  He groaned. “Oh my god, I’m so glad today’s over. Fuck it right in the ear.” 

 

Instead of the reply he was expecting, he was met with silence. He looked up and gaped.

 

“What the fuck?!”

 

The apartment was a mess. There was a huge empty space where the couch and coffee table should have been, and the charcoal rug he loved to rub his toes through was nowhere to be seen. The couch was tipped on its side near the far wall, and the coffee table was somehow propped up beside it. Everything from the coffee table and small side tables had been moved to the dining table, filling it with a vast and random assortment of things. 

 

In the space usually taken up by his carefully selected and comfortable and loved furnishings, a checked red and white blanket was spread on the floor, with a picnic basket sitting in the middle of it. 

 

“What the fuck?!”

 

Derek appeared around the corner from the bedroom dressed in thin sleep pants and a plain white shirt. He looked so soft and amazing, and Stiles was reminded once again how lucky he was. 

 

Derek smiled softly. “Hey, beautiful. Come sit down and have dinner with me.” 

 

Stiles slid his bag to the floor and kicked off his shoes as he watched Derek kneel in front of the basket and start taking items out of it. 

 

“What the fuck?!”

 

Derek laughed and patted the blanket beside him. “You had a bad day. Let me make it better. Come eat. We’ve got cheese and steak sandwiches, curly fries, and fruit salad.” 

 

Stiles sunk to the floor beside his husband and leaned against him, taking the curly fry Derek held to his lips. He groaned in appreciation and grabbed some more from the plate Derek held in front of him.

 

“My god I love you. But how could you tell? I left my damn phone here, or I would’ve texted you.”

 

“I love you too. I could see you didn’t eat breakfast because we still have milk left. Then I saw your lunch was still in the fridge and your phone was on the bed. It rained this morning, and your umbrella is still by the door. Didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that all meant a shitty day.” 

 

Stiles almost cried. “It really was. So, so shitty. You’re the best. This is amazing, thank you.”

 

Derek’s arm snaked around Stiles’ shoulders and he softly kissed the edge of his mouth. “After this you’ve got a lavender bubble bath and a date with movies in bed.”

 

Stiles sniffled quietly. After such a shitty day, an evening of pampering with his perfect man was exactly what he needed. He smiled through his tears as Derek held him and he realised one bad day was nothing at all. He’d actually hit the fuckin’ jackpot.