Work Text:
Derek went to Stilinski’s house, armed with supplies to a very sick Stiles.
Sheriff Stilinski opened the door, “Hale.”
“Sir.” Derek said.
“You are practically family in my book, Hale,” John told him with a smile, and added, “He’s up in his room, make sure that he won’t leave the bed.”
“That bad?” Derek asked with a smile.
“Yeah,” John replied and added, “I’m glad that you are here now, son.”
John headed over the cruiser.
“Where are you going?” Derek asked.
“Work.” John replied with a smile.
“Thank you for taking care of my son, I’ll try to call and check how he is.” John told him and headed over the cruiser.
Derek nodded, watching the sheriff drive away as he headed inside the house, and locked the door after him.
“Honey, I’m home!” Derek called before he headed over to Stiles's room carrying the supplies.
“Der?” Stiles called weakly, curled in the bed, covered by the blanket.
Derek watched him from the door frame, setting the supplies near to his mate’s laptop, and walked over the bed, sitting next to Stiles, and checked the temperature.
His boyfriend was pale, even more than yesterday when he visited him. Derek knows that he needs to be with him more, the pack can wait, Stiles is more important.
“Oh, you have a fever,” Derek called worried as he could feel the heat coming from Stiles’s forehead, he wished that his mate would feel better, “I’m glad that I made you chicken soup, it could help.”
Stiles only shivers, clenching the blanket closer.
“Did you eat anything today?” Derek asked with concern.
“Dad… made me… some food…” Stiles replied, stuttering.
Derek helped him to sit as he came back with the bowl of chicken soup.
“You did it for me?” Stiles asked with awe, his brown eyes sparkled a bit as he looked at his boyfriend.
“Of course, you are my mate.” Derek replied, giving him a soft peck on his cheek.
Stiles only looked at his mate with love in his eyes, wishing that he could kiss him properly, he hates to be sick.
“You are going to be okay, Stiles,” Derek comforted him and started feeding him.
“You don’t need to feed me.”
“Yes, yes I do,” Derek told him and continued feeding him as he continued, “You are shaking and have a fever.”
Stiles wanted to say something, but Derek preceded him with a smile as he kept feeding him.
“Did I need to remind you that I’m your boyfriend, and I love to take care of you?” Derek asked.