Comfort - Sterek, Gen
Written for this prompt .
Scott is busy a lot. Between Allison and--Well, no. That’s it. He spends all his time with Allison, which means that Stiles spends a lot of time with Jerry Springer and a can of cola.
Today he’s in a t-shirt and boxers watching the one about the hookers who married dolphins with the front of his shirt tucked under his chin. He’s poking the little roll of fat on his stomach he gets when he slouches when the door bell rings.
Scott or his dad wouldn’t ever ring the bell, they both know where the spare key is and it’s storming outside. He peeks out the door and is met with the sight of the one and only Derek Hale, alpha of the pack and not your typical in-through-the-front-door visitor.
“Hey.” He says after he cracks the door open, and Derek spreads his arms out with his hands in his pockets.
“You gonna let me in?” He asks and Stiles leans his hip against the doorjam and grins.
“What’s the magic word, wolf boy?” Stiles asks and Derek glowers darkly. “Yeah, yeah. Your teeth, my throat. Bodily fluids. You know, this kind of sounds like the opening to a gay porn.”
“Stiles.” Derek says tiredly and Stiles takes in his whole appearance, then clucks his tongue and pulls him in by the arm.
“Take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. I just vacuumed today.” He says and Derek obeys silently. He stands awkwardly in the hallway in his socks while Stiles rummages through the hall closet. “Aha!” He says cheerfully and pulls out what looks like a big blue blanket. He unfolds it and holds it out for Derek, “It’s a Snuggie. When I’m sick I like to wear it.”
“How did you know I’m sick?” Derek asks and investigates the Snuggie cautiously.
“You don’t smell right.” Stiles replies and Derek shoots him a mildly surprised look. “No, not like- I don’t have a super nose like you. People don’t smell the same when they’re sick. Plus, you came in through the front door. Something’s wrong with you.”
Derek chooses not to respond and instead follows Stiles’ into the living room where he stands behind the couch clutching the Snuggie and trying not to fall over.
“Come here.” Stiles says and hits pause on the telly. Derek sits down carefully and glares at the Snuggie.
“I’m not going to wear this.” Derek says blankly and Stiles nods.
“I figured.” Stiles says and Derek looks at him.
“My body is going to go into over drive and I’m going to pass out while it fights off the infection.” He says. “Normally, I just lay in bed until I fall asleep.”
“Normally?”
“My house leaks now.” Derek says and then rubs a hand over his face. “Stiles?”
“Yeah?” Stiles asks and Derek purses his lips. He presses his knuckles to his mouth and then his eyes roll up in his head and he slumps so he’s face first in Stiles’ couch.
“O...kay.” Stiles says and unpauses his show. Guilt eats at him and he looks down at the wolf’s slack face, his mouth is all mushed to the side and he looks pissed even in a dead sleep. He yanks him up so Derek’s head is cushioned on Stiles’ thigh and then hits play on his show.
Derek rubs his face on Stiles’ thigh in his sleep and the stubble scratches the pale skin there.
He giggles.