Getting Back to the Roots

Happy weekend! I have chosen to take my rare mostly completely free weekend and just veg. Which mans most of today was spent being incredibly unproductive on the internet and sleeping obnoxious amounts. But still gotta get some writing in so here I sit. When I started this I figured I would be mostly writing little one-shot fanfics for my own ships or ships of those who sent in prompts. However I’ve only done a couple of those and I thought it would be nice to get back to where I started writing  and exploring that world. So for today I grabbed a shipper prompt from a blog and went with one of my current ships; Sterek (Stiles and Derek) from Teen Wolf. I know that’s not everyone’s cup of tea so I understand if you don’t read on but if you do decide to read hope you enjoy.

 

Person A in your ship is reading and doesn’t look like they can be distracted! What does Person B do to get their attention?

 

Hours had dragged by since they started searching for any clues as to what was killing mostly animals, but also two joggers, in the preserve. Stiles had thought that between the six of them splitting of the Bestiary it would take one, maybe two tops, but it had been at least five. Isaac fell asleep two hours ago, spread out on the weird velvet couch Derek had in the loft, one foot on the floor and the other in Allison’s lap while his head propped awkwardly on Scott’s leg. Both who were trying their best to ignore the elephant that is their everlasting sexual tension and focus but as to be expected were doing horribly, Allison at least had read half her pages where Scott was still struggling at the quarter mark.

He and Lydia has spread out on the table near the window, and of course Lydia fought him tooth and nail for seat facing the window, saying Stiles was not to be trusted with that sort of distraction. Which he resented, no it wasn’t a horrible point but when Stiles needed to focus he could focus thank you. Plus it just meant that he was forced to see the layout of Derek’s loft; which was filled with the always entertaining triangle on the couch and then Derek himself who had claimed his bed; Lydia obviously overlooked that element of distraction.

There was also the fact that his Adderall had started to wear off almost half an hour ago and so he was starting to fidget and Lydia had already kicked him three times and batted his hands from drumming on the table twice that, all without even looking up from her section which was still in Archaic Latin that they hadn’t gotten translated yet. Stiles knew when she was so far in the zone it was useless to try to break that force field, so instead he watched the sun go down over the loft painting it in shades of purple, pink,and orange. Just as the final rays about hit the floor Stiles felt the build up of a sneeze and before he could prepare it came out.

Scott flinched, jostling Isaac’s head and getting a disgruntled mumble, Allison looked up and said “Bless you” while Lydia reached in her purse and pulled out a Kleenex to hand him, still without removing her eyes from her text. But Derek didn’t even bat an eyelash, he stayed hunched over his pages, eyes roaming back and forth not even registering his surroundings. It looked like he had some sort of system going, little piles of papers organized and taking up over half his queen bed. Stiles was intrigued, he leaned back to take in the scene; Derek had one leg bent at the knee and the other hanging over the side, leaving him hunched in on himself as he read his share laying it flat on the mattress before him.  His one hand flipped the pages and put them in their assorted places while the other kept his head up, and every once in a while would run up through his hair out of frustration, exhaustion, need to be partially brooding at all times.

By now Derek had to be aware Stiles was studying him, Lydia had already torn her eyes away for the smallest of seconds to then roll them and Allison laughed into her hand, which made Scott look and throw his head back dramatically. If anyone Derek was the most capable of being aware he had someone focusing all their energy on him, and yet he just kept reading and filing in his peculiar manner. And it was starting to bug Stiles, erratic filing was his specialty and now he wanted to know how Derek was doing his own system. “Hey Derek, what are you doing?”

Nothing. Not even a twitch. Stiles picked up a pen and threw it at him, hitting him in the thigh, but still nothing so Stiles reached out for another when Lydia’s hand clasped down on his. Pinching his wrist she made her “do it and die” point and so Stiles dropped it and grumbled about her being no fun, to which she flicked her hair over her shoulder and carried on reading. Needing to know Stiles pushed out his chair, as noisily as he could, and then walked over to stand at the end of the bed. He leaned over slightly trying to figure out how Derek was sorting his readings, what was ruled out and what gave him interest. He even got as bold as to move a few papers, which he assumed would get him either a grunt or a violent hand slap, but Derek was still stiff and deep into it.

Following his first attempts there might have been hand waving, toe kicking, and even kneeling slightly on the bed to cause a ripple effect of paper shifting. Stiles knew he was pushing his luck but if that wasn’t one of his other specialties then his Dad would have far less worry lines starting at his temples. Plus now Stiles was just more annoyed at being ignored than anything and he was looking for anyway to force Derek’s hand. Which is how the next, idiotic, plan came to happen, Stiles took a deep breath before sticking his finger in his mouth and then quickly along the inside rim of Derek’s ear.

The tight presence on Derek’s fingers around his wrist came before Stiles could even open his eyes that he had closed just before. In a flash he was whipped from his place beside Derek to half laying the bed on top of all of the neatly separated piles, over him heavily dilated, icy blue eyes blazed at him and Derek gritted out, “Damn it Stiles, what?”

Pretending the wind had been knocked out of him Stiles took a moment to gather the fact he was just seconds ago acknowledging the pushing of his luck and now he was remembering why his dad always asked him to think first. Derek was leaning into his personal bubble to likely intimidate Stiles, and while it worked it also made the whole thing a little funny. And laughter was not the proper thing to come out of Stiles mouth right now, he at least had that much self-preservation, so he kept staring into Derek’s eyes trying to think of something, anything.

“I think I’ve got it!” Lydia shouted out into the air, saving Stiles more than she knew. Derek held their stare for a brief moment longer before releasing his old on Stiles’ wrist and tossing him more on this side to allow Derek to get his leg untangled. He left Stiles behind on his bed as he walked over towards the table where Scott, Allison, and even Isaac had surrounded Lydia to see what she had. Stiles took a moment to grin to himself before getting up and joining the group, he totally won that round.

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