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The thing no one tells newly made alphas is that when you start making wolves out of the teenage population you still get teenagers, just super-powered. Super-strong, super-annoying, super-disgusting.
“When was the last time anyone cleaned the bathroom?”
His question gets him four blank expressions –Boyd, Isaac, Erica and Scott-, one disdainful –Jackson, of course-, one bored –Lydia-, and one amused, that silently says ‘well, you wanted kids’. No need to even point out who is sporting that expression, nor is there a need to examine when exactly he started being able to read Stiles so well, that road leads to madness and a weird pull low in his gut that is not butterflies or anything ridiculous like that.
The expressions leave their faces and the wearers quickly follow suit. The truth is no one actually lives with him expect for Isaac, but he likes to break his time between his place, Scott’s and surprisingly Stiles’ house.
Watching Isaac and Scott walk away chatting lets him know its Scott’s night to host the curly-haired wolf. The door sounds loudly behind them because of course they are also super-loud, the bang resounds in his ears along with one remaining heartbeat. Lifting an eyebrow at the last member of his pack, Derek waits for an answer to his silently asked question.
“I’ll do the tub, sink and mirror, you do the toilet and floor, it will go faster.”
“Why do I have to do the toilet?” he asks, not whining, he’s the alpha, he doesn’t whine.
Stiles huffs, rolling his eyes as a smile tugs at his lips. The twist Derek feels in his stomach is annoyance at not being able to scare Stiles anymore, not at the sweet shape his bow lips make when he smile at Derek with an expression in his eyes that could or would be called fond by some. It’s not.
“Your apartment.”
“You all use it, a lot.” Is his rebuttal, trying for irritation but knowing he’s failed as Stiles lets out a small chuckle and shakes his head.
“Come on Sourwolf, the sooner we start the sooner we finish, Walking Dead is airing in black and white tonight.”
He follows Stiles as he gathers what they need to clean and heads into the spacious bathroom. “Why see it in black and white when you’ve seen it in color?”
Stiles shrugs as he removes his hoodie and places it on the hook next to Derek’s towel, it’s surprising how domestic and normal it looks to have something of Stiles next to something of his. “It’s scarier.”
He snorts at the happy grin the answer is given with. “You’d think you have enough scary things in your life.”
“No zombies,” Stiles quips before his eyes widen. “Zombies aren’t a possibility right?”
Derek shakes his head. “As far as I know, no.”
“’As far as you know’”, Stiles repeats faintly. “The fact that you aren’t sure is worrisome.”
“You’re the one that watches that show.”
“Yes, so let’s get a move on,” Stiles answers turning to the cleaning products. “You sweep, I’ll scrub.”
Derek follows the boy’s instructions quickly, turning his attention to the floor when Stiles kneels beside the tub, leaning over it to start scrubbing. Broom in suddenly sweaty hands, he silently berates himself, the sight of Stiles ass in the air, moving back and forth as he scrubs the floor of Derek’s tub with the same enthusiasm he approaches everything should not make Derek’s mouth water.
“I don’t hear sweeping dude.”
“Don’t call me dude,” he manages to get out, his voice breaking even in his own ears, so it’s no surprise his most perceptive pack member hears it too.
“You okay?” Stiles asks as he stops scrubbing, turning his head to throw him a concerned look.
“Fine.”
“Yeah,” Stiles answers, stopping all together to stand up. “That’s not a real fine, I speak Derek ‘grump’ Hale now, I know when a fine is the opposite, what’s up?”
Derek remains silent for a moment because it’s true, Stiles can read Derek like a book now and he can do the same, there are times when they have entire conversations without saying anything. When he needs something it’s a given that Stiles will be the one that helps, even with the most mundane things like cleaning the bathroom, just like it was a given that after they were done they will sit down and watch Stiles’ show together even if he thinks it’s silly. It’s was so easy and simple and Derek is-
“I’m an idiot,” he blurts out and Stiles smiles widely but kindly.
“Sometimes,” Stiles agrees. “But not so much lately, what caused this moment of self-awareness?”
He doesn’t bother answering, not with words at least cause they aren’t really needed and he’s grateful cause he’s still not the greatest with them. Instead he drops the broom in his hand and crosses the bathroom floor, his hands sinking into Stiles’ hair as he covers that beautiful sarcastic mouth that drives him crazy with his, growling into it when Stiles easily lets it open, his own soapy hands holding on to Derek’s neck.
“You are an idiot,” Stiles rasps out, breathing heavily when they finally pull back, even Derek is winded. “Are you telling me all I needed to do was scrub your tub to get you to finally make a move?”
“I liked the way your ass moved as you scrubbed it,” Derek answers back, smirking as Stiles’ mouth drops open with no comeback. It’s too much of an invitation so Derek does the only thing he can. He takes it.