Anonymous said: not sure if you're taking prompts but derek telling stiles that he loves him for the first time?
i’m not supposed to be taking prompts. supposed. i never do what i’m supposed to do, though.
“What the fuck is wrong with him?!”
“A lot,” Derek blurts out before sniggering into Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles sways under his weight.
Deaton looks mildly amused, Stiles glares. This is not the kind of situation he’d call humorous.
“It’s just the pain medication; it will take a few hours to wear off. It may also,” Deaton clears his throat, “Make him a little loose tongued.”
Stiles’ throat goes slightly dry just at the turn of phrase and then he realizes what Deaton’s really implying.
“Is he—does he know what he’s saying at all?”
“Of course I do,” Derek interrupts, looking at him a little glassy eyed. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here, it’s annoying when you and Scott do that.”
“We don’t do it that often!”
“You made plans for the weekend while I was standing right there,” Derek huffs. “It was rude.”
Stiles gapes at him. “I didn’t—did you want to go see a bunch of crappy horror movies with shitty acting that would make you itch to point out all the inaccuracies this Sunday?”
“If they’re going to reflect our daily lives they should at least be accurate.”
Which isn’t exactly an answer, but it is telling. Stiles bites his lip feeling guilty as fuck. He’d just assumed that even after all this time; Derek generally considered Stiles and Scott’s de-stressing activities to be beneath him.
“I just figured—”
“I don’t care,” Derek insists heatedly, before his head lolls back onto Stiles’ shoulder and his face is suddenly buried in Stiles’ neck. “You smell bad.”
— Dale Spender, Man Made Language. (via amorphous-discontent)