Stiles, the "pack mom" of an ten wolf, Kanima, banshee, kitsume, werecyote, and hunter pack. How bad can it be to be the only human, the weakest, and most wanted of the pack. Yes wanted. As if the supernatural world suddenly finds him a threat. But...
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"Talking" 'Thinking... Important _writing_ — — — ________________________________
Stiles gently laid his bag down on the far side of the rooms arm chair. The man's head was a little unnerved with the situation, although Derek made a good point to him staying in his room, stiles still felt awkward. Which is unlike him, seeing as he'd normally make himself at home with someone he's so comfortable to be around. Except there has been a bit of change since he's admitted that last time. A lot of change. A lot of crazy, unexpected change. A lot of stiles staying in Derek's room change. So the man lays his bag down and twists his head over to look at the cracked open door and sighs. Stiles moves to close the door, practically forgetting Derek's involvement with the room as he reaches the wooden door and reaches to close it. And he would've if it didn't swing open and nearly take the poor human out.
Stiles yelps with a whoa sound and clears his throat as Derek locks eyes with stiles and closes the door behind himself. Then patting his sides and stepping back; spinning around to face the armchair once again. The human let's a heavy huff of breath out as he reaches the chair and starts rummaging through his bag aimlessly.
"What was that?" Derek asks calmly as he reaches his bed, not looking to stiles.
"Hmm?" Was the only response Derek got, a small boil of anger or irritation starting.
"At the table. Stiles." The wolf snaps a bit out of tone and clenched his jaw.
"Oh... did you not smell what you were doing. I think I get a turn to cause embarrassment then be embarrassed." Stiles smiles and spins toward the alpha. Derek glares at his bed for a moment and then shifts a softer look to the human.
"Whatever, shower before you get in my bed." He gruffs and turns to his dresser leaving a stunned and stuttering stiles facing his back.
"I'm sorry, I thought I'd be on like the floor or something?" The younger's tone his full of question as he speaks, inching closer to Derek with fresh clothes in hand.
"Tss, I'm not going to invite you into my room and put you on the floor." Derek points to the door besides his dresser. "Shower or I'll make you."
After the words stiles nods and rushes into the bathroom. Placing down his things and snatching a towel from the cabinet. Stiles spins around finding the shower and easily turning it on, adjusting the temperature, and stripping. Then climbing in for a quick, holy, shower. Stiles wraps his towel around his waist and begins to dry off his body, avoiding his reflection as he dresses and then meeting his own eyes in the mirror with a sigh. The human runs a hand through his damp, silky smooth hair, stopping on zero nots. Another sigh leads stiles to toss his towel and earlier clothes in the hamper before spinning around to the door and placing a hand on the handle and pausing.
