“I accidentally called you my girlfriend/boyfriend today.” Stiles/Derek
Stiles lets himself into Derek’s apartment, calling out a hello as he dumps Derek’s mail on the side. It’s not an unusual habit, Stiles spotting Derek’s scant bills and correspondence in his mailbox and grabbing it for him on the way up. What is unusual is Derek not rolling his eyes when Stiles comes through the door with his post. He likes to complain that he might have something private in there and that Stiles is too nosy for his own good. Stiles always taps his nose, says it’s too cute to be an annoyance, and Derek rolls his eyes again, turns away with a fond smile.
Stiles likes putting that smile there, likes seeing Derek happy, revelling in something as easy and light as gentle bickering. To some people it might seem like nothing, to Stiles and Derek it’s a damn miracle. After everything they’ve been through, survived, to come out the other side and still have some sort of lightness inside of them; Stiles is endlessly grateful. He’s glad to be alive, glad that Derek is, too. He likes getting into the semantics of whether or not having a cute nose gets him a free pass when it comes to rummaging through Derek’s mailbox. Besides, it’s not like he ever reads it; Derek doesn’t get anything particularly interesting. That’s not the point, it’s just a habit, now. The same way Derek always reminds Stiles to take a sweater with them if they’re headed out, or Stiles picks up Hershey’s kisses at the store because he knows Derek likes them, but won’t buy them himself on pain of death.
Not, that he’s using that phrase literally.