prompt: best birthday ever
Stopping myself from cleaning up my line art was challenging.
Quick sketches are totally not my forte.
Derek yanks the door open so fast he almost rips it off it’s hinges. “Are you brain damaged?!” he says, pulling Stiles in by his arm.
Stiles laughs, loud and delighted. Not even the sign clocking him in the face as he spins in Derek’s grip is enough to dampen his enthusiasm. “Nope,” he says. “I haven’t had a head injury in months.”
Derek remembers. He’s still getting the harpy blood out of his jacket. “Stiles-“
“You wanted to wait,” Stiles says. He’s done that thing where he’s all up in Derek’s space between one blink and the next. Fuck. ”We waited.”
The door rattles at Derek’s back only for as long as it takes Stiles to press him back against it. It’s heady having him this close, after months of keeping him at arms length. Months of chaste kisses and careful embraces.
Okay, yeah, screw it. Derek flips them, ducking in to nose up Stiles’ neck and feeling Stiles’ groan hit him hot and low.
“Oh god yes,” Stiles says, dropping the sign to thread his hands into Derek’s hair. Derek crushes it underfoot when he hikes Stiles up the wall.