Burning Slowly

Chapter 25

When Stiles had gotten out of the shower he was surprised to find the room empty. He thought Derek had gone downstairs to get some food. Stiles grabbed clothes out of his dresser as he ran his eyes over the room. It wasn't particularly easy to apply the water resistant bandages the hospital had given him along with strict orders to change the wrappings and apply antibiotic cream to the scratches. He pouted a little bit. He'd wanted to get dirty again so that Derek would have to take him into the shower and clean him up.

He adjusted himself slightly and tried to think of less sexy things. The only problem with that was that Derek hadn't left him with any normal thoughts; he'd taken them all and left only sex memories, and they hadn't even had like real full on virginity taking sex yet. There was no way he was going to be able to focus on anything else for the rest of the day.

His stomach made a loud sound of protest and he looked down at it with a stunned expression. He hated being wrong, apparently he could focus on something else. He patted his stomach consolingly and promised that he'd get it filled up soon. It grumbled again and he narrowed his eyes at it, thinking it was messing with him. He blinked as he pulled on a pair of jeans and cast his eyes around the room again. There was something... off. He couldn't figure out what it was though.

He pulled on a t-shirt and grabbed a pair of socks as he walked out of the room and down the hall towards the stairs, he nearly fell trying to put them on as he went. As soon as he left his room he smelled the pungent odor of pancakes being burned alive. He imagined he could hear them screaming in agony. He frowned; he would bet a hundred dollars Scott was murdering that delicious batter in an ill fated attempt to make breakfast. He had to save them before Scott destroyed them all, laid waste to what should be golden brown avatars of deliciousness. As he got to the top of the stairs he heard voices from down below and paused momentarily.

"This is ridiculous," Scott yelled, "why aren't there any directions?"

"They're right here, McCall," Jackson told him, "You're just blind."

"Baby maybe you should let me do this?" Allison was always the voice of reason. Stiles grinned as he imagined the drama taking place downstairs in the kitchen. He started to take a step down when he heard Lydia's voice.

"I'm just glad we're all here to be able to fail at making pancakes. Why are we doing this again?" Lydia sounded annoyed. Stiles chuckled. Lydia was amazing. He had always known that but he knew with more certainty than ever before after the last few days. She was one of a kind.

"Don't get me started on Derek," Scott warned, "he almost killed Stiles."

"Don't be a hypocrite, Scott. We all know you tried to kill Stiles too. At one point you tried to kill us all," Lydia said.

Stiles pumped his fist in the air, Lydia was so right. The only reason Scott hadn't killed him in the locker room was because Stiles was a crack shot with a fire extinguisher.

"That was different," Scott mumbled quietly enough that Stiles almost hadn't heard it over the crying out of the pancakes as they were no doubt being burned to ash in the skillet.

"You know what, I don't even care that he almost tore my arm off, I'm just pissed about all the other stuff," Jackson said.

There was an awkward silence and Stiles wondered what they were talking about.

"Yeah thanks to Derek Scott and Jackson almost broke the hot tub." Lydia said.

"Thanks to Derek, I know what Jackson's dick feels like."

Stiles blinked... and mouthed 'what the fuck'.

"Thanks to Derek, I know what Scott's semen tastes like..."

Stiles almost swallowed his tongue, Jackson... and Scott? They had banged each other? He had been so right! On some level he had already known about Jackson, the guy was too pretty to only like girls, plus Stiles knew for a fact that he liked to look at himself in the mirrors in the locker room.

"Can we not bring that up ever again," Allison said. She sounded simultaneously upset and as though she was about to start laughing. "I just want to forget Derek ever... did whatever it was to them."

"Thanks to Derek I know what Stiles's sex voice sounds like," Scott said.

The statement was followed by a little hiccupping choked off noise. It was still just as adorable as the first time Stiles had heard it on the day they left for the resort. He hadn't forgotten that he was going to heckle Scott about it. The opportunity simply hadn't presented itself yet.

"You don't need to thank Derek for that; I think Stiles is always talking in his sex voice." Allison told the group.

Stiles wasn't sure if that was rude or not, but it put a goofy smile on his face. He kept walking down the stairs, stepping lightly and walking a little gingerly because of the wounds in his side, they itched really badly and he wanted to scratch at them. The doctor had repeated several times, very slowly, that was something he wasn't supposed to do.

"Thanks to Derek I ruined one of my favorite pairs of shoes with water damage." Lydia said. She sounded as though she clearly thought that it was the most important grievance.

"Thanks to Derek I'm going to be walking funny for the next few days," Stiles said as he walked into the kitchen.

Scott dropped the spatula he had been using to torture the pancakes on the ground. Stiles was so not cleaning that up. Jackson looked like he was torn between asking a question and having a seizure. Allison giggled and Lydia arched an eyebrow at him. Most of them looked like they had a little bit of pink in their cheeks.

"Cause of the scratches," Stile explained. He lifted his shirt and pointed at the bandages on his side.

"Not because of those bite marks?" Lydia's grin was so much wider than the Cheshire Cat's had ever been.

Stiles was sure his face was not turning red and dropped his shirt with great dignity. Scott looked like someone had kicked his favorite puppy right before his eyes. Jackson looked like he wanted to ask a question still, but snapped his teeth closed. Allison winked at him and gave him a thumbs-up.

"I don't know what you mean." Stiles told them.

"Whatever, Derek is hot enough that most people would hit that like the Fist of God." Lydia said conversationally.

Everyone in the room coughed and looked away from each other. Without making eye contact with anyone Stiles moved up and pushed Scott out of the way to assess the damage of the apocalypse that had taken place on the stove. He grimaced and with a solemn heart and a whispered promise of vengeance buried the dead pancakes in the trash can.

"Scott, clean up the spatula. I'll do what I can to save the rest of your victims, let's all hope I'm not too late."

Everyone laughed and Stiles smiled to himself as he got to the business of making the pancakes after Scott handed him the clean spatula back. After a few minutes everything was coming along nicely and he started to wonder what Derek wanted on his pancakes. Stiles hoped it was strawberries; Stiles also hoped that Derek would want to eat the pancakes off of his skin and then make sure he got all the syrup off. He knew that Derek would be meticulous about it. He grinned to himself. Somehow he'd gone from not thinking about sex any more than the average teenage guy; to being so sex focused he couldn't even make breakfast without it flitting through his thoughts.

That's when everything fell apart; Scott asked him a question that froze his spine. "When's Derek coming down?"

Stiles realized what had been wrong with the room upstairs. The spatula dropped to the floor of the kitchen again and this time Stiles didn't care what was going to happen to the pancakes. Derek suitcase hadn't been in their room when Stiles was getting dressed.