Work Text:
‘Take it off, Stiles,’ Derek says desperately.
‘What? I can’t hear you, Sourwolf,’ Stiles says, laughing hysterically.
‘You heard me. Take. It. Off.’ He puts a little extra growl into it. It doesn’t help.
The little kitten that is perched on top of his head only starts to purr louder, and Stiles is crying from laughter. He tries to talk, probably to make fun of Derek again, but he can’t get enough air to actually say something.
Derek resigns himself to waiting until his boyfriend can get himself under control. He’s tried removing the kitten himself, but every time his hands come near the little animal, it starts kneading his scalp. He has high pain-tolerance and heals fast, but he’d rather not wash blood out of his hair.
It takes another five minutes before Stiles is finally calm enough to lift the kitten from his head. She meows in protest, but stops when Stiles drops her on Derek’s lap. She attempts to climb back up, but he grabs her before she gets up too high.
Stiles drops down next to him and snuggles into his side. He’s still chuckling a bit. His face and eyes are red, and Derek can hear his still rapidly beating heart.
‘Hey, Derek? Sweetie?’ Stiles grins, batting his eyes.
This can’t be good. ‘What?’
‘Would you consider putting her back so I can send a picture to Scott?’
‘No.’
‘But he’ll never believe me if I don’t have proof!’
‘No.’
‘Please? Pretty please?’ Stiles pouts, making his eyes wide. God, he’s even tearing up a bit.
‘Fine,’ Derek grouses. ‘One picture.’
Stiles’ happy smile is totally worth the tiny claws piercing his scalp.