[ the squirming, the squeaking, the way stiles needs a second to straighten out his spine and tentatively feel out how bad his injury might be - it all worries derek, who watches stiles manage his weight and stammer over his stupid-ass lie with open concern. he needs to get him home. when stiles offers him money, derek can't tell if he's joking or not, but he gets annoyed all the same. ]
Fuck off. I don't care about money. I care about you.
[ he brought the drugs, solely because stiles told him to, but - he doesn't exactly trust the drugs here to do what they say they will on the tin. not after the fort. spiking stiles with viagra while he's nursing bruised bones and a potentially bruised ego doesn't seem like the best way to end today, so he offers something else, instead.
stiles holds out his arm, and derek steps closer. he takes stiles' wrist in one hand, just to hold him steady, then grips his forearm with the other. they're still in public, and a quiet, scratchy part of derek's brain is telling him to at least drag stiles back into the cave and out of sight if they're going to do this, but he's impatient and he's worried and he doesn't want to waste any more time.
and then - derek takes stiles' pain. it pulls itself from his veins and coils up through derek's blood in dark, black tendrils, and derek gets tense and sweaty from the effort of it. he can feel the dull ache that stiles is going through transfer into his own body, and he holds stiles' arm a little tighter just in case he tries to pull away. derek closes his eyes when he needs the time to focus, and in twenty, maybe thirty seconds, the black ropes in his arm fade and blend into the rest of his bloodstream.
derek sighs. he lets go, running his thumb over stiles' wrist, soft and reassuring. he opens his eyes, looks at stiles, and he's a little sweaty, a little sore, but he's okay. stiles should be okay now, too. ]
You really scared me.
[ he's repeating himself, mumbling quietly under his breath, but. it's true. derek wets his lips, fishes his hand into his pocket. he's light-headed and sort of lethargic after taking stiles' pain, so he's moving slower than normal, but he fishes out the ibuprofen he promised and curls the packaging in stiles' hand. in case he still wants them for later. ]
no subject
Fuck off. I don't care about money. I care about you.
[ he brought the drugs, solely because stiles told him to, but - he doesn't exactly trust the drugs here to do what they say they will on the tin. not after the fort. spiking stiles with viagra while he's nursing bruised bones and a potentially bruised ego doesn't seem like the best way to end today, so he offers something else, instead.
stiles holds out his arm, and derek steps closer. he takes stiles' wrist in one hand, just to hold him steady, then grips his forearm with the other. they're still in public, and a quiet, scratchy part of derek's brain is telling him to at least drag stiles back into the cave and out of sight if they're going to do this, but he's impatient and he's worried and he doesn't want to waste any more time.
and then - derek takes stiles' pain. it pulls itself from his veins and coils up through derek's blood in dark, black tendrils, and derek gets tense and sweaty from the effort of it. he can feel the dull ache that stiles is going through transfer into his own body, and he holds stiles' arm a little tighter just in case he tries to pull away. derek closes his eyes when he needs the time to focus, and in twenty, maybe thirty seconds, the black ropes in his arm fade and blend into the rest of his bloodstream.
derek sighs. he lets go, running his thumb over stiles' wrist, soft and reassuring. he opens his eyes, looks at stiles, and he's a little sweaty, a little sore, but he's okay. stiles should be okay now, too. ]
You really scared me.
[ he's repeating himself, mumbling quietly under his breath, but. it's true. derek wets his lips, fishes his hand into his pocket. he's light-headed and sort of lethargic after taking stiles' pain, so he's moving slower than normal, but he fishes out the ibuprofen he promised and curls the packaging in stiles' hand. in case he still wants them for later. ]
C'mon. Home.