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“What the heck are YOU doing here?”, Derek growled as he opened the door to the Hale house (or rather ruin?) for Stiles.
“I brought you food, and you better appreciate it!,” the short-haired said in response, not as chipper as always, but since it was already past midnight, that should have been a given.
Derek smelled Chinese fried noodles, sliced duck breasts and a variety of sauced as he let the guy in. “I can see that,” he muttered. “But why?”
Stiles stood between the open front door and the good-for-everything-but-walking-them stairs and decided to take a left turn into the living room that still had a giant hole right in the middle.
“Because I’m the nicest guy in town, obviously,” Stiles said and due to the lack of any reliable-looking seats he decided to let himself drop onto the dusty floor. “And maybe because I’m bored as hell at home. Dad’s working, Scott is trying to work out the perfect plan to help Allison get it back together and the rest is busy as well. And since I know that Isaac is kept busy by your uncle, that leaves either you or the bar people. And I don’t feel like partying tonight.”
During Stiles’ seemingly never ending monologue Derek had followed him into the room after closing the door, wondering if he should just drop down beside him.
Stiles put the two Tupperware boxes filled with food onto the floor and made sure that the chopsticks didn’t touch the dusty ground. “Come on, and don’t try telling me you’re too busy right now, you even have your shirt on.
Derek chuckled a little, much to his own surprise, crossed the distance to that weirdo and dropped to the floor. “You made this yourself,” he stated as he opened one of the boxes.
“That… might actually be true,” Stiles responded while he grabbed his food and started eating.
Derek stared at the brown noodles and the perfectly grilled meat. It had been a while since he’s eaten homemade food.
“Thank you,” Derek mumbled, then grabbed the other pair of chopsticks and dug into the food. Before Stiles had enough time to even notice it, about half of Derek’s box was already emptied.
“I didn’t realize you were starving… Should’ve probably made more…” said Stiles between two bites of meat.
“Remember it for next time, then,” ordered Derek.
“Aww, he’s back in sourwolf-mode, how lovely!”
Stiles rushed to keep up with Derek, downing a huge load of noodles – or rather tried, since he almost choked on it and needed quite a while to get himself back together. Derek might have even cracked a smug grin or two.
The rest of the food was properly exterminated, the only thing left being a bit of sauce.
The two of them were actually stuffed, but after Stiles had properly stacked the two boxes together, he revealed two smaller packages, smelling sweetly.
“No Chinese food without fortune cookies!” Stiles sang as he threw one of them at Derek, knowing he would catch it before it hit his face. “And don’t worry, I didn’t make them myself, I’m terrible at baking.”
Derek didn’t return anything, but instead opened the package and nearly crumbled the cookie in the process.
Stiles simply shook his head, freed his own cookie and broke it in half. Then he read: “The biggest success you’ll have with those things you are doing seriously.” He paused for a second, lowering his head a little. “Yeah, whatever that means. As if I’m ever not doing things seriously, at least I’m ‘seriously’ putting my life in danger for you guys. Maybe that’s why you’re still alive! I expect a thank-you from everyone next time I see you guys together.”
“Keep dreaming, damsel in distress.”
“Oh, remember who held your head over water for more than two hours?”
“Remember how you wouldn’t have found out about the kanima without me?”
“Oh GOD, just read your message already!” Stiles blurted out, visibly not in the mood for arguments right now.
“Fine,” Derek hissed as he pulled out the little paper between the crumbles of his now broken cookie. He stared at it for a moment, obviously not comfortable with reading it out aloud. Before he could react – much to his own surprise – Stiles snatched the message from his hands and read: “Pleasant surprises in love.”
Stiles looked at Derek for a moment, then burst into laughter.
Derek growled and took the paper away from him and ripped it in two pieces before tossing it into the hole in the ground not far from him. “Yeah, I’ve had that already. And it was neither pleasant, nor funny.”
Stiles hurried to get his composure back after remembering about Kate. “Yes, uh, sorry about that.”
Awkward silence filled the room. And the hole in the ground. And the entrance.
“I should probably go,” Stiles spluttered as he hurriedly got back on his feet.
“Yeah, probably…” Derek got up as well and collected the boxes which Stiles then put back into his tote. Then he led him back to the front door.
“Thanks for the food,” Derek said as he opened the door, and as Stiles stepped through it, “But I still think you should shut up sometimes.”
“Yeah, and I still think you’re a sourwolf sometimes,” Stiles answered before he turned around and made his way to the Jeep.
Derek heard the engine start and the wheels making their way through the leaves after he’d closed the door.
He pulled up his sleeves, went back into the living room and pushed the old green couch to the place the two men had just been sitting, letting it be showered with moonlight. Then he laid down in it, closed his eyes and took a breath.
Something had changed in the house. It didn’t solely smell like death anymore.