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“Okay there, kiddo”, Stiles said, as he finished writing out the Beta’s prescription. “Just make sure you take these on time and remember to stay away from those sunflowers, you hear me?”
“Got it, Stiles!” the five year old chirped, already raiding the large plastic jar for a treat.
“That’s Doctor Stilinski to you, young man”, his Beta father chided gently. But Stiles waved it away. He’d avoided treating adults in his medical career for this exact reason: formalities and the likes.
Stiles watched the man usher his hyperactive child out of the door, allowing himself a smile as they left. Being the Alpha’s mate allowed him access into the pack, which was a blessing, because they actually shared their pack doctor with another pack, which meant Stiles found it easy to obtain the post of the fill in doctor, which suited him perfectly. He did not have to deal with problems out of his league, but still could help with small things like fractures and allergies and the likes. And especially since their pack was rampant with young werewolves, no one had to worry about explaining why their bones fixed so soon, or why they seemed to avoid silver and especially their unusual strength and energy. These arrangements suited everyone.
As Stiles filled in the boy’s entry and other details, the door being flung open had him looking up with a start. His face automatically broke out into a huge smile.
“Derek!” he said happily, jumping up and preparing to fly into his Alpha’s arms.
“Stiles,” Derek replied in that moody way of his, and held out his arm. The Omega was confused at first but that was replaced with horror and a gripping sense of panic when he saw that Derek’s hand was bleeding profusely.
His training kicking in, he quickly washed the cut and examined it. It was deep, and would need stitches, he noted with worry. As he stopped the blood flow and swiftly began working on the injury, he looked at Derek in a way that had the Alpha shrinking back a bit.
“So, Sourwolf,” Stiles began icily, “How did you manage this, do tell me.”
“I was with Scott,” he began, and Stiles eyes flashed dangerously.
“Go on,” Stiles said evenly. It was at times like this that Derek was truly scared of Stiles. He had an excellent temper, but when aroused it challenged that of an angry Alpha.
“It was a dare, whoever could grip a knife tighter without bleeding,” he mumbled, barely audible. He peeked up to see Stiles freeze, look at the ceiling in a sort of prayer, and proceed with his work.
“And what of Scott?” Stiles asked, moving to gather the instruments for the stitches. He went back to where Derek was sitting, glowering down at him.
“He needed a bandage,” Derek muttered, looking away. But then the caught sight of the needle and quailed.
“Stiles, can’t I get one too?” he asked in a sudden desperation. “Just slap on a bandage and I’ll leave, yeah?”
“You’ll need at least five stitches for this, Derek,” Stiles frowned. “Now give me your hand.”
Derek didn’t obey at once, clearly torn between two choices. “Do I have to?” he asked, softly this time, cradling his wounded hand.
“Derek,” Stiles said slowly, realization dawning upon him, “Are you… afraid of needles?”
Derek nodded morosely and Stiles felt his heart squeeze.
“Hey,” Stiles said quietly, and Derek looked at him. “It’ll be fine, okay? Just don’t look at your hand, you won’t even feel it.”
After a bit of deliberation Derek extended his hand, and Stiles took it and started with the stitches. The entire time Derek looked in the opposite direction as Stiles worked as quickly as possible.
Derek felt a tug on his palm as Stiles pulled at the last stitch and quickly bandaged it.
“All done,” Stiles declared, “Good job, Sourwolf, you were very well behaved if I may say so myself.”
Derek let this jibe slide; it was better than having Stiles really mad at him. He preferred a teasing Stiles any day, despite not showing it.
Derek pulled Stiles close to him, and because he was sitting and Stiles was standing he had to look up at his mate.
“You doing good, Sourwolf?” Stiles said in a whisper, locking his arms around Derek’s neck. Derek nodded, burying his face in Stiles’ stomach. Derek enjoyed these moments of quiet, he realized, as he breathed in Stiles’ comforting scent.
The Alpha’s heightened senses were alerted as he heard someone approaching, so he quickly stood up and stole a kiss from his unsuspecting Omega, secretly enjoying the look of surprise on his face and the blush that quickly followed. He loved eliciting such reactions from Stiles; despite having been together for so long he always reacted to Derek’s kisses like they were his very first ones.
“I’ll see you later, okay?” he breathed, his forehead against Stiles’. Stiles looked at him in an almost dazed way, nodding.
Derek smirked his signature smirk, and that got Stiles back to earth.
“You’re still in trouble, you know,” he called after him, as Derek laughed.