#sterek chat

****Silence****

Boyd:I know you’re home. I can smell your existential crisis from here.

Derek, muffled: Shut up.

Boyd, smirking & toeing at the pile of clothes: Want me toss these in?

*****Aggressive growling from the pile of clothes****

Boyd, slowly backing away, muttering: This is just sad...

Derek, head popping out of clothes: You do the same when Erica’s gone. Don’t start with me.

Boyd, hands raised: Yeah, but I mostly just sleep with one of her shirts at night. THIS … is just sad.

Derek, growling and eyes flashing, muttering morosely as he dips back into the pile: Mate. Mine.

***20 minutes later***

Stiles: *voice cracks* everyone?

Derek: ….

Stiles, rolling eyes: Alexa, play 'Derek Expression 13'.

Alexa: Alright.

(Thunderstorm sound effects play)

Derek, glaring at Stiles: Alexa, play 'Shut Up Stiles'.

Alexa: I'm sorry I couldn't find that, but here is 'Stiles You're My Reason To Smile'.

(Whitney Houston blares through the speakers)

Stiles, aggressively singing along: And IiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIiiIIi will always love YoooouuuOOOOOUUU

Derek:*sighs while fighting back a smile*

Alexa: Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more...

Stiles, pillow over head groaning: Ugh, smartass. Alexa, what is the definition of love?

Alexa: According to my sources, Love is defined as-

Derek: Your boyfriend bringing your drunk ass tacos at 2am and making sure he's hydrated before he passes out on the bathroom floor while hugging the toilet.

Stiles, flipping onto his back with grabby hands: Best answer, you win all the prizes! Alexa, you're fired.

Alexa: Alright, setting 10 alarms between 5am and 6am.

Stiles, sitting up quickly: Alexa, no!

Alexa: Mieczysław, yes!

Boyd:She said it was some sort of workshop.

Derek, grunts:I'm guessing they're not learning to become Santa's elves then?

Boyd, confused, climbing the stairs:No...Why?

Derek, waving at the pole in the middle of the bedroom:Because if the North Pole didn't magically appear in here then...

The front door bangs open followed by Stiles' sultry voice: Deeer-ek, wanna see what I learned today?!

Stiles: Because I won't let Derek come in until he realizes that I can TAKE CARE OF MYSELF.

Sheriff, cocking an eyebrow: Unless pissing on the begonias is a werewolf apology, I don't think-

Stiles, opening door: STOP MARKING MY TERRITORY!

Derek: *disgruntled grumble*

Stiles: I told you I can handle myself.

Derek: *whining growl*

Stiles: I know you care about me and I appreciate you trying to protect me, but not at the risk of your own life. I need you to realize I can protect myself as well as your furry ass, at times.

Derek: *exasperated huff and snort*

Stiles, sighing: I know. I don't like seeing you get hurt either.

Derek: *rumbling whimper*

Stiles: I love you, too.

Derek: *lowers head and gazes up at Stiles*

Stiles: Yeah yeah, come on in. Wipe your paws first.

Sheriff: So do I need to set an extra dinner plate at the table or on the floor?

Stiles: I was doing laundry when I found this in your jeans pocket.

Stiles, crossing his arms: You have 10 seconds to explain.

Derek, eyes widening: It's not what you think-

Stiles: Oh really?! Because it looks damn well like you were cheating.

Derek, flustered: ...I was going to tell you-

Stiles, eyes ablaze: When?! When it was over and done with?!

Derek, sighs in defeat, crumpling the paper: I'm so sorry, Stiles.

Stiles, spluttering: You're /sorry/?! What about me?! Or did you not even consider how I would feel, huh!

Derek, tosses a fresh Reese's pack at Stiles: Enjoy it, that was from /your/ stash behind the dresser.

Stiles, cheeks heated, glaring giving Derek the other cup: Fine. But we don't tell my dad about our cheat day. Diet camaraderie rules and such.

Derek, eyebrow raise: Okay.

Stiles: I’m telekinetic.

Derek, earth-quaking sigh: I’ll bite. Show me.

Stiles, drops fries & licks fingers: Ok, prepare yourse-

*smirking at Derek's jeans*

Welp, that worked quicker than anticipated.

Derek, growly blushing: That’s not telekinesis, Stiles.