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"You don't have to do this, you know."
Derek was sitting on Stiles's bed. Well, he was more reclining on Stiles's bed actually, as the kid fussed over him with bandages and antiseptic and kept doing everything in his power to get Derek to lie down and rest.
"Of course I do."
Somehow, after getting everyone out of the school, Stiles had convinced Derek to come back to his house. His dad was working - no doubt looking for the missing girl - and it was closer than Derek's loft and they had actual food Derek could eat to regain his strength and it wasn't like there was any school that day and... For all Derek's protests, he eventually caved because he hadn't wanted to be alone and Stiles was the only one to ask.
"Why?"
"Because you need someone to look after you. I mean, you sure as hell don't. And even though I know you'll heal, some of those are really deep and the last thing you need is an infection."
"I'd heal from that too."
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean you should have to."
"Why do you care?" Derek was tired; physically, mentally, and it was so hard to keep fighting.
"Because I do, dumbass. I care about you even if you don't care about yourself." Stiles pushed on Derek's shoulders until he was fully lying down, head sinking into the soft pillows that smelled like him. "Now stay here. I need to get something from downstairs and i don't want you sneaking out my window the moment I leave."
Stiles just stood there staring at Derek until it was obvious he was waiting for some kind of promise.
"Fine," Derek bit out.
While stiles was gone Derek felt himself relax. He drifted as he listened to the noise of Stiles banging around the kitchen. And he wondered what Stiles was doing until he drifted off and couldn't worry about anything anymore.
--
Derek came to as Stiles walked back into the room carrying two steaming mugs.
"Hot chocolate?"
Stiles nodded. "My mom's secret recipe. She used to make it for me whenever I was having a bad day."
Derek wanted to snort at the comparison. To say he was having a bad day would be a gross understatement. But instead of snorting, Derek found himself responding with, "my mom used to do that too."
"Yeah?" Stiles held out a mug for Derek. He took it and let the heat seep into his hands.
"Yeah."
Stiles carefully climbed in next to Derek, not wanting to spill anything, and now Derek had the heat of Stiles's body seeping into his side. It felt nice to just rest there with him, neither of them talking in favor of drinking.
As he neared the bottom of his cup, Derek felt drowsiness hit again.
"I should go."
"No." Stiles took the now empty mug from Derek's hands and set it on his night stand. "Stay."
Derek wanted to decline the offer. He wanted to get up and leave before he did something stupid like start trusting Stiles - more so than he already did. But there was a bigger part, a secret part, of Derek that wanted to give in and stay. He was just so tired.
"Okay."
He'd stop fighting. At least for today.