OKAY SO THIS ALSO HAS SOME CONFIDENT DEREK IN IT BECAUSE YOU WANTED THAT TOO SO HERE IS A THING. A THING FOR YOU.
“You’ve got a little something on your face,” Derek says, from where he’s straddling the windowsill on the other side of the room. Stiles jumps in alarm, gives a shout of surprise and sprays the ground in front of him with Doritos, his once previously empty room suddenly much more occupied.
After Stiles gets past the initial shock he registers Derek’s sentence and his hand comes up to swipe self-consciously over the short stubble on his chin.
“I just haven’t shaved in—“
“What, like a month?” Derek asks, teasing. Stiles scowls at him, bends to scoop up the snack chips on the floor, deposits them in the trash beneath his desk and straightens. Derek is still watching him, but he’s swung both legs inside the window, like he’s been invited.
“Does anyone know you’re back yet?” Stiles asks, leaning against his desk chair and watching Derek uncertainly.
“Just you,” Derek replies, and he starts swinging his legs a little softly against Stiles’ wall.
“Wow, I feel honored,” Stiles says, uncertain what to say to someone whose been gone on a six month sabbatical to who knows where.
“You should,” Derek tells him, and he stands then, ducks into Stiles’ room. Stiles gives him a questioning sort of look and raises a brow. “I came back for you.”
Stiles opens his mouth, but he gapes soundlessly, eyes wide. He wishes he could detect the bullshit in it, or get the joke, but Derek is looking at him with an intensity that makes his skin feel hot all over, prickles beneath his armpits and makes something in his chest go fuzzy. He laughs uncomfortably, smiles too wide, barks too harshly, “yeah, okay!”
Derek just smirks at him then, steals a Dorito from the half empty bag Stiles still has clutched in his hand and leaves.
Everyday I’m like “today imma get my shit together” and by the end of the day I’m like “tomorrow is the day for real”