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They had been in a fight. It was a stupid little fight, but they had both been too angry to speak anymore. Derek had already gone to bed, without resolving it. Stiles had stayed up a little bit longer, but he knew that he needed to go to sleep. Shadow had been tugging on his pant leg for an hour, whining. Stiles sighed and picked the puppy up. He went into the bedroom, looked at the bed, and sighed when he saw Derek laying on the edge of the bed.
''I love you'' He whispered before crawling into bed.
It was something they always did before going to sleep, and this fight doesn't change anything. Stiles hated fighting and Derek needed the reassurance that he was still loved, no matter what was going on.
He didn’t realize that Derek wasn't actually asleep, and pulled him into his arms. Shadow yipped happily, moving to nuzzle against Derek’s arm. Derek buried his face in Stiles’ neck and took a deep breath.
“I love you too,” He whispered back.
Stiles let out a sigh of happiness and settled for the first time since they started fighting.
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It was Talia’s birthday, Peter told Stiles when Derek was still in bed at noon. Stiles sighed and walked down the hall. He knocked on the door. No answer. Sighing, he finally decided to open the door and peeked in.
“Are you coming out of your bed today?” He asked.
There was a shuffle of fabric as the mound of blankets on the bed shifted. Two eyes and a majestic pout peeked out from an opening, quickly followed by Shadow’s little nose. A lidded cup stuck out from the hole, accompanied by a staccato slurp on the straw. Great, he needed more water, too.
Shaking his head, Stiles simply sighed again and started walking down the hallway.
“I’ll get you something to eat,” he called out. The edge of his mouth twitched into a smile as he heard a wordless groan of approval from their bedroom. Some days were kind of bad, but... well. They’d get through it.
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Stiles had gone to his Dad’s house, trying to keep the pack safe from his magic. Derek had gone to a meeting with Chris and had been gone for a week. When he returned, he found out that Stiles had another run-in with Deaton, and his magic had freaked out.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” Stiles said as Shadow yipped and ran over to the door.
Stiles’ soft murmur was enough to make the sound of footsteps pause for all but a moment, their owner listening to his words, before swiftly disregarding them and continuing his approach. Something that instantly made the frown on his face, deepen.
Eventually, he came to a stop behind him, the feeling of him settling so close, instantly making him tense defensively as he stared resolutely ahead, jaw and fists clenched tightly. Despite having undoubtedly noticed his reaction, perhaps even expected it, Derek showed no signs of having done such, instead simply choosing to wrap his arms around him, and press himself against his back, silently.
The effects of his scent and touch were instantaneous, Stiles’ body melting back into him as all the tension started to bleed away. Although part of him still wanted to protest his close proximity, given the threat that his magic was since he was upset, it was impossible to deny the fact that his presence alone, seemed to be soothing some of the more dangerous effects of his mood.
For the first time in over a week, his mind was blessedly quiet.
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Stiles knew that can’t beat his boyfriend in a fair fight. His solution was to leap on his back in a surprise attack. He thought that it might have allowed him some leverage for victory. But, Derek barely reacted, assuming Stiles just wanted a piggyback.
“What’s wrong?” Derek asked when Stiles let out a small huff.
“I’m trying to wrestle you.”
“Oh.”
He placed him on the ground and before he had a chance to try again, Derek was pinning him onto the ground. Stiles whined and pouted about it not being fair, asking for a rematch. So, Derek let him up and he tried again. This time, Derek waited and let Stiles go first. So, he ran at him and Derek fell to the ground, allowing him to pin him.
“I win!” Stiles said, smiling brightly. Sure, he knew Derek took it easy on him, and let him win, but he’s not going to call him out on that fact, smiling as he laid beneath him. “So what’s my prize?” Derek tilted his head in confusion, Stiles hadn’t mentioned anything about any prizes. “Oh, come on, naturally the winner gets a prize.”
“But what about when I won before?” Derek asked, feeling Shadow nibble at his ankle as if he was trying to help Stiles stay down.
“Doesn’t count, you weren’t being fair. Werewolf strength is an unfair advantage.” Derek stared at him blankly, considering saying something but not having a chance to when Stiles continued. “Well, looks like I’ll just have to choose my prize, and I want a kiss.”
Stiles didn’t waste time leaning down and pressing his lips to his. He pulled away with a cheeky grin that is quickly wiped off his face when, in the blink of an eye, Derek switched positions and forced him beneath him.
“I want my prize too...” He murmured before Stiles get a chance to ask. He didn’t allow Stiles to say anything else, silencing him with a kiss.
They only separated when Shadow barked, alerting them to the fact that someone was coming.
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“OW HEY THAT BURNS SHIT HEAD” Stiles yelled hysterically as Derek poured alcohol on his cut.
“Who’s problem is that? Sure as hell not mine. Stay still,” Derek growled, his eyes glowing red.
Stiles huffed and hugged Shadow to his chest. The puppy had been distressed as soon as they had entered the loft, and wouldn’t let them go anywhere until he was safe in Stiles’ arms. Once Derek was done cleaning the wound, he instructed his mate to stay there while he went to talk to Peter. He should have known better.
“I think, every once in a while, you gotta just lay on the floor. It can be really good for you.”
Derek had his mouth open to ask but slowly closed it. His surprised, worried expression turning to a scowl as he gazed down at Stiles.
“Everyone should try it, at least once a week. Could be revolutionary.” Stiles chatted on, a cheer to his voice that sounded too strained to not be hiding pain. Shadow was whining and licking his face as if to prove the point.
“Did you fall?” Derek finally said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Would you believe I did a quick gravity check?” Stiles grinned back. Or tried to. It looked more like a grimace to Derek.
“I told you to not move.”
“I’m not moving now, am I?”
Derek pressed his lips to a thin line to stop him from outright groaning.
“You're right. Maybe I should leave you there. The floor will do wonders for your broken leg and two stab wounds, I’m sure. Tell me if you want me to throw you a blanket,” Derek started to turn as if he really was going to leave Stiles sprawled on the floor.
“No, baby-” Stiles cut off with a whimper and Derek was sure he could see worry flash in his eyes. Fear was coming off of him in waves.
Instantly, Derek felt bad about the joke. It had been a bad joke, thrown out of annoyance and buried terror of almost losing his mate. But still, he should have known better.
He gave a sigh and walked over to Stiles, leaning down to gently lift him to his chest.
“Come on, babe, let’s get you into bed. Come on, pup, to the bed.”
Shadow yipped and took off towards their room.