Stiles learns that even with werewolves, giant lizards and psychopathic hunters on the loose, life can still find other ways to screw with you. Case in point: everyone keeps assuming he and Derek are a couple. What the hell?
Derek wakes up to the sound of bare feet hitting the hardwood floor and sighs. Rolling over to blink at the alarm clock, he listens to Ben shuffling down the hallway. It’s a bit after one a.m and Derek only went to bed about twenty minutes ago. He sighs again, shifts onto his back, tugs his t-shirt back down from where it has rucked itself up under his armpits and waits for the inevitable to happen. It’s always the same every time Stiles has to go away for a few days.
