Out Of Milk

23

Stiles stood under the hot spray of the shower as the jets pummelled his body. Derek had brought him back upstairs, half carrying him, half dragging. Stiles wasn't sure if he was going to pass out or throw up – his body shaking and spasming. Derek had panicked, pulled Stiles phone out of his bag and called Runngingwolf. Stiles could hear the conversation as though he was in the room with them.

"He's shaking, he's got a fever and his eyes are glowing gold."

"Has he taken your blood?"

"Yes."

"More than normal?"

"Yes."

"Don't worry about it. He'll be high for a few days. Watch out for any dangerous behaviour, but he will be much more… affectionate… during this time."

"Oh."

Stiles wasn't ready to leave the shower when Derek walked back through. The hot water was bliss on his skin, steam swirling around his head in a cloud of warmth and colours. He could see rainbows in the air. Derek had made sure his shower was top of the line, with so many jets and features that Stiles hadn't really been sure what buttons to press. The glass door slid open, cold air rushing in as clouds of coloured steam billowed out.

"Shut it!" He groaned, pulling away from the draft. Derek stepped in, and hit a few more buttons, spray shooting out from the other side of the shower as well. Trust Derek to have a two man shower installed. For a few minutes, Stiles was happy just to stand under the spray and watch as Derek scrubbed at his skin, the bite marks on his shoulder had not yet healed and he had a few bruises on his back from where Stiles had slammed him to the floor. They were both still hard – Stiles had tried to jerk himself off in the shower, but he was still just as hard. Derek seemed to just ignore his as he washed his hair. With the worst smelling stuff Stiles had ever had the misfortune to be in the same space as.

"What the hell is that?" He said, screwing up his nose. Derek turned, one hand still in his hair.

"Tar Soap." He said. "I've always used it. My dad used it."

"It stinks."

"It grows on you." Derek said, and Stiles saw his smile through the steam. He held out his hand and pulled Stiles forward, a foamy shampoo halo on his head. The kiss was gentle, familiar and comforting. When Derek pulled back, he grinned – a relaxed, open smile that made Stiles want to cry. The only time he'd ever seen Derek so relaxed the Alpha had been sleeping.

The rest of the wolves were waking up, Stiles could hear the complaints as they tried to untangle themselves from each other. "What the fuck is that smell?" Jackson groaned as he yawned.

"Stiles." Erica mumbled, she sounded like she still had her face mashed into the pillow.

"I just don't understand why he gets to smell so good." Jackson complained.

Derek went back to washing his hair, which made the muscles on his upper back and shoulders do quite wonderful flexing – Stiles couldn't help but run his hands over them.

"You'd better get washed." Derek said, handing Stiles the hideous smelling shampoo bottle. "Your dad is going to be awake soon, and we're going to have to explain the eyes."