Can I request: Stiles pines for Derek. Derek thinks he needs to get over Stiles bc misunderstanding of feelings. Derek has a date, Stiles helps him dress and pep talks him and //it hurts// but he wants Derek to be happy so he does it. Derek drives off to pick up his date and Stiles goes home to eat ice cream… where he finds Derek sitting on his bed, saying “I don’t wanna date some girl…” and then CONFESSIONS AND MAKE OUTS AND STUFF
This is a very specific prompt! I’ve been trying to figure out how to fill it, so I consulted mybraintrust, who helped come up with the premise. By which I mean: blame Verity, at least a little bit, and Ashe, for Tie the Knot. It takes place in a ‘verse much like Teen Wolf’s, except that everyone knows about werewolves.
Which means, obviously, that there are werewolf dating shows.
Stiles is lying on the bed under a pile of sweaters. Cashmere and cotton and wool, navy and garnet and hunter green; he sweeps out a hand experimentally and knocks a black v-neck onto the floor, which is covered in jeans and socks and tee shirts, from before they decided that tee shirts were too casual.
“I don’t know, I’m thinking about tee shirts again,” he says, just to be contrary. “Your biceps, you know?”
Derek is standing bare-chested in the middle of the room, fists clenched, frowning. He makes a noise like he doesn’t appreciate Stiles’ eleventh hour levity.
“I understand that among alphas your biceps are considered pretty run of the mill,” Stiles says. “But they’re not, like, awful to look at or anything. I think they could be an asset. If not with Bachelorette number one then with audience members, or the viewing public. You never know who could be falling in love with your biceps, Derek.”
Derek throws a soft handful of tee shirts at Stiles’ prone form. “You stopped being useful hours ago,” he says.
“I stopped being useful when you stopped listening to my suggestions.”