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"What's wrong?" Stiles asked the witch as she paced. "Forgot your broomstick." She stopped pacing and looked up, eyes a blaze.
Shit.
"Put this on." Derek growled throwing the shirt at Stiles after having ripped it off in one solid fluent movement. It was just rude. Stiles stared at the werewolf blankly.
"Oh no. Sunshine. I don't want to smell like wet dog." Stiles growled holding his bat close to his leg.
"Your ass is the reason we are in this mess. Put. It. On." Derek growled and Stiles looked to Scott for backup. His best friend since kindergarten just gave stiles a weak smile and turned back to Allison. Stiles growled and peeled off his plaid shirt, settling the Henley over his bat man shirt. The shirt didn't drown him, just made him feel surprisingly nostalgic of his sophomore year and his baggy shirts.
"What do I do now?" Stiles growled and Derek looked at him with a pained expression.
"We run." He grabbed stiles by the scruff of the neck (what was it with people doing that to him. He's the only one not actually a canine!) and pushed him in the direction of safety. In this case Derek's Camaro. "We need to take you to a place where your scent is the weakest."
"Yours?"
"Uh huh." Stiles was suddenly thankful for his annoying attraction to Derek, meaning that Stiles heavily avoiding time at Derek's and bunked everywhere else, leaving him with a lovely safe house and a grumpy werewolf.
"Wake me up when we get there." Stiles sighed, sinking into the leather seats and breathing in the scent of Leather and Derek.
"We're here." Derek woke him up with a shout and a slam of the car door. Stiles jumped up and followed Derek inside. Derek locked the door and gave Stiles a bundle of clothes and gestures to the bedroom upstairs. "You need to wash out your scent."
"That sounds easy." Stiles rolled his eyes and headed up stairs. He pulled off Derek's shirt and then his own. He slipped the Henley back over his head, shimmying out of his jeans and into the sweat pants Derek gave him. Derek had given him a black hoodie like thing without a hood and he slipped it on. He plodded downstairs, bare feet on the cold floor.
"Hey." Stiles whispered and looked over to where Derek had tucked himself into the couch with a book. He looked up to where Stiles was hovering on the stairs. Derek Licked his lips and his eyes dipped up and down Stiles' body. "What was that?"
"What was what?" Derek asked, returning to the book. "
You just checked me out. Derek hale just checked me out." Derek rolled his eyes but didn't reply. "And no denial. I'm beginning to think pissing off that witch was one of my better decisions."
"Pissing off a witch is in no way your best decision, Stiles." Derek laughed as Stiles sat down. "Hey you know how you said I need to wash out my scent. I know a good way." Stiles wiggled his eyebrows. Derek let out a deep sigh. "So do you think the Derek Hale look suits me?" Derek looked him up and down again before swallowing. "I'll take that as a yes."
"You're a jackass." Derek grumbled.
"A wonderful jackass, who smells like you." Stiles sat down on the couch, crossing his legs and smiling.
"Stiles." Derek breathed as the smell of their mixed scents hit him.
"Derek." Stiles smirked, mimicking Derek's tone. Stiles smirked and Derek rolled his eyes, pulling Stiles to him by the lapels of Derek's hoodie thing. They kissed and Stiles lost track of time. "I'm definitely pissing off more witches from now on."