fandomtownies | The Preserve, Saturday Morning

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The Preserve, Saturday Morning

The plan had originally been for there to be working on Jackson's werewolfing skills this morning. As it was Derek Hale's School for Werewolves Who Can't Werewolf Good and Want To Learn To Learn To Not Be A Murder Lizard.

The best school around.

Of course, waking up to being unable to hear had put a sliiiight damper on that. But Derek wasn't going to let something like that deter him. So, he was waiting, glaring at everything in sight.

At least he could still smell.

[[So, so open]]

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Stiles glared at Derek for a couple moments, wishing he could say what he wanted to because saying it in text couldn't really express the anger he felt. So instead he stuck with saying "You suck!" while trying to look as annoyed as possible.

Derek was pretty sure he knew what Stiles was saying there. It was so much easier to figure out two words than anything else.

He sighed angrily, hands curling into fists. "You're going to get yourself killed and then where will I be?" he hissed instead of ignoring it like he really ought to.

Plus side, Stiles couldn't read lips. So he was safe to say that.

Since Stiles couldn't understand anything Derek was saying he had to go by facial expressions and, well, Derek looked about as annoyed as Stiles felt. Stiles seemed to be ignoring the fact that Derek looked annoyed most of the time.

"I am so sick of you treating me like a kid!" See, two could play the pointless talking game. "I don't need you to take care of me!"

Ugh this was stupid. He rolled his eyes again and turned back around, moving even faster to get back to town. His shoulder was behinning to throb again and being around Derek right now was giving him a headache.

They really had the most magical arguments.

Derek huffed, keeping pace easily. He glared at Stiles, making sure he wasn't about to pass out on him before they could get to the clinic. He wasn't going to drag your ass there.

Except he totally would.

Oh Derek you were in for the hissy fit of your life if you thought you could drag Stiles to the clinic.

Stiles managed to walk a good while without saying anything to himself or anybody else but eventually he sent another text. I can make it back by myself now, thanks.

That thanks was supposed to be sarcastic.

Derek rolled his eyes when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

That remains to be seen.

Oh, he went there.

Stiles didn't turn around but the hunch of his shoulders probably said a lot about his reaction to that text.

Seriously Derek, screw off. I want to go back to my stupid bouncy castle and sleep until Jackson punches me off of him.

You're going to the dorms where it's safe.

Jackson was there. Don't cuddle him, though.

He would cuddle with who he pleased!

Fine. Now go away

Derek glared at him again, lips drawn into a thing line of annoyance. But he didn't back away. You'll just have to get used to it, Stiles.

Stiles sighed again. He didn't know why he thought that would work. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and tried his best to ignore Derek for the rest of the way back to the dorms. He knew he was acting like a brat, but that trust thing still hurt, dammit.

Trust was a scary, scary thing, you know.

Derek stayed silent, unable to voice his opinions on anything they were still arguing about despite not being able to hear each other. Because if he could just out and say things, he wouldn't be stuck in the predicaments he gets into all the time.

But he could attempt to work himself up to it.

...

Nope, still not happening.

Well. This was sort of peaceful now, once he was really ignoring Derek and getting over the weirdness that was not being able to hear anything.

The only problem was the throbbing in his shoulder that was getting more irritating now that he wasn't fuming at Derek. He tried to cradle the one arm with the other without drawing too much attention to himself because he knew what that would lead to. More werewolf touching.

Which he did not want. Despite how appealing it seemed outside of the present situation.

You are not as subtle as you think you are, Stiles. Just putting that out there.

Derek sighed, shoulders losing their tension as he moved closer. He placed one hand on the back of Stiles' neck, taking the pain without even thinking about asking.

You know. If he could ask.

"I do trust you," he muttered, mostly just to say it. Because this was a ~safe space~ and Stiles couldn't use it against him at some future junction.

Stiles tensed at first when Derek touched him, mostly out of the initial urge to push him away and act pissed at him. He relaxed after a few seconds, because his shoulder really did hurt and thought he had done more than enough to prove to Derek he was still mad at him.

So yeah, while he wasn't ready to forgive Derek, he would relax and lean a little into his touch as a way to say he appreciated it.

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The Preserve, Saturday Morning

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