For the prompt post: “Are you sure about this?”
I don't know if you wanted a requested pairing, but you write three of my favs so.. dealer's choice.
The words, ‘Are you sure about this?’ still ring heavily in Stiles’ ears. They’re shortly followed by an eye roll from a very gruff-looking Alpha and, ‘Yes, Stiles, I’m sure. Now get out there, you got this.’
He, in fact, did not have it.
It being the rough and tumble he had to endure whilst training with the wolves. Scott may have pulled his punches and linebacker tackles, but he was still a solid mass of supernatural vigor and after two, count them, two pile drives to the gut, Derek finally heeded the standard rule of tap-outs and let Stiles sit out the next few rounds.
He was busy cleaning up a bloody nose in the bathroom when Derek came up behind him a few minutes later. He could hear the rest of the pups still training outside through the small open window above the shower stall. It was a nice day outside, the sun high in the sky, a chill breeze whirling through the trees.
Stiles would have rather spent it inside, but he’d been dragged out of the house with the promise of coffee and breakfast foods. He had no idea he’d be duped into training with the pack on Derek’s old family land afterward.
He’d rebuilt the house one summer, after selling the loft and purchasing the land back. Stiles had helped when he could, but most of the time he’d defer to the pack who had the super strength and fortitude to build such a big estate.
This bathroom was on the first floor and mainly used for guests, but it was one of five sprinkled around the large house, usually between rooms save for the master bath in Derek’s room.
Stiles had never been inside that one.
“Did you know that tilting your head back during a nosebleed doesn’t really stop the bleeding?” Stiles asked amidst shoving tissues up his nostrils. Most of the flow had stopped by now but the sink looked like a massacre had occurred in it.
Derek leaned against the door frame, tucking one arm under the other. He’d decided to wear a gray muscle shirt today and Stiles had to stop himself from staring too long on many occasions. He couldn’t help but look now as he stared at Derek through the mirror, though.
“Nope,” Derek shrugged.
“Right,” Stiles nodded, rolling his eyes and regretting it a second later when it made his nose hurt. “I forgot, you magically heal within seconds. Do you even get nosebleeds?”
“Occasionally,” Derek gruffed.
Stiles had to resist the urge to roll his eyes again. “Cool, so-” He turned around, leaning back against the edge of the sink. “What’s up? Shouldn’t you be watching them?”
Derek glanced toward the open window and back again to Stiles. “Just checking up on you.”
“Well, I’m just dandy, big guy. Swell, even.” He shifted his weight, leaning back on the sink with his hands.
“Stiles-”
“Peachy keen.”
Derek huffed a sigh through his nose, clearly frustrated. But Stiles was frustrated too and he couldn’t understand why he had to do things like this when he clearly wouldn’t ever be able to match their level.
“Would you just-”
“I don’t see the poin-”
They spoke at the same time and Stiles would have continued on with the rant he’d been preparing the moment he set foot inside the house had Derek not stepped into the bathroom and derailed any present thought from his mind. “Shut up for a moment and let me talk,” Derek grumbled, a low growl forming in his throat.
Stiles wasn’t even sure how to respond to that, so he stood, quiet, waiting, and ready to listen to whatever drabble Derek might have to say about ‘pack dynamics’ and ‘how everyone should pull their weight’.
“You could get seriously hurt,” Derek said into the silence between them. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Stiles hadn’t been expecting that. “I’m sorry, what?” He’d set himself up to listen to the rantings and ravings of a frustrated Alpha and his wayward human, not the quiet concern he could just barely hear in Derek’s voice.
Derek sighed again and took another cautious step toward Stiles. He couldn’t back up anymore or he’d risk falling into the sink and he was pretty sure the back of his pants was already ruined by any of the blood spatter. “You need to be able to protect yourself. I - We won’t always be there to watch out for you.”
He knew what Derek was trying to get across but arguing was second nature to Stiles. The urge to question and pester was just as a part of him as the skin on his bones. “I don’t need you guys to watch out for me.”
Something flashed across Derek’s face and for a moment, Stiles thought he saw something akin to disappointment flare in his eyes. Stiles swallowed past a lump forming in his throat because he never wanted to disappoint Derek. It was just difficult to do what he wanted.
“You’re right.” And just like that, Derek was shutting down. Stiles could see it, feel it, and knew he didn’t need heightened senses to realize that the disappointment Derek was feeling wasn’t for him. It was for Derek. He’d spoken up and said something on his mind. Showed a sliver of vulnerability and Stiles had cut it off at the quick.
He hadn’t meant to, he just wished everyone would just stop worrying about him. He didn’t deserve it.
Derek turned to leave and Stiles did something stupid. He reached out, pushing himself off the edge of the sink, and grabbed at Derek’s arm to get him to stop. It was easy enough. Now all he had to do was speak.
“I’m sorry,” Stiles sighed. “I’m just - upset. I mean, you can’t mess with the money-maker,” He smirked, pointing at his face and trying to lighten the mood. Derek turned around but he didn’t exactly look all that amused. Stiles’ smirk fell and suddenly he realized just how close they were now, how warm Derek’s arm was underneath the palm of his hand. He released his hold as if burned to touch the wolf and sighed again. “Sorry, I-”
Derek wasn’t going far though, nor did he look offended by Stiles’ abrupt retreat. He towered over Stiles, took a brave step toward him, and looked down at him a moment before he reached out to grip his tiny shoulders in massive, warm hands.
That lump in Stiles’ throat was growing, along with the rising levels of embarrassment mixed with anxiety that was normally at a high but now felt like they were skyrocketing up and out into the room.
“We - I can’t always be there to fight with you. I need to know that you’ll be okay when I’m not.”
Suddenly training wasn’t that difficult of a request anymore. He could do it. He’d endured worse over the past few years, right? Sure, he’d end up with some bruises, maybe a broken bone here and there, but looking up at Derek right now made all those impending dooms feel like they were tiny and insignificant.
Stiles sighed. His shoulders, along with Derek’s hands, slumped a little. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be back out there.”
“Are you sure about this?” Derek asked, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. It was the kind of smirk Stiles wanted to eat up, but that was a hill to climb for another day.
Huffing a chuckle, Stiles offered up a smile instead, slapping a hand down on one of Derek’s shoulders.
“Yeah, we got this.”
Thanks for the prompt! It’s been a bit since I’ve done much Sterek so I went with them for a light, fluff piece :3
For anyone else whose looking for some prompts for me to write, visit —> here!
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