kitcatpanda
"The least you can do, is maybe, probably suck my dick,"
Derek just kinda pauses, and gives stiles this look. And its a look that Stiles knows well cause its directed at him a lot, but dammit, man, Derek is going to a werewolf official convention and Stiles is going to be lonely.
Very lonely.
Very lonely with only a single hand to help.
"Derek please."
Stiles glares at the circular instrument like it had cursed his family and ate his children.
He actually wouldn't be surprised if it did.
Beside him, Derek is snorting and smiling behind a clenched fist. Stiles whirls on him and points at him accusingly.
"You cursed the fucking thing to fall on me didn't you?" he says.
"Not my fault it decided it wanted to defy basic rules of gravity and hug your face," Derek smirks.
Stiles groans and rubs a hand over his face.
"Fuck you,"