I got bored and made up this random story like 5 months ago or something like that.
No Beta. Hope you like it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Derek pushed open the door to his Camaro and walked up to the Stilinski house. He had a lot on his mind, and figured that Stiles' chatter could maybe take his mind off of all the crap in his life. With the Kanima still running around, and the Argents seeking vengeance, a little distraction would be greatly appreciated. Once Derek reached the door, instead of the window, he grabbed the key from under the mat and let himself in.
At this point, he didn't care about the little things, like his Camaro sitting outside for the world to see, or the fact that he's going in through the front door. But since it was a Saturday and Stiles was home alone, Derek really didn't care.
Derek suddenly hears a grunt from upstairs, with a confused expression he locks the front door and looks up the stairs. Now that he's using his senses, he realizes that Stiles isn't alone, like on a normal Saturday morning. He's with…Boyd? He takes out his phone and glances at the time. Why would Boyd be at Stiles' house at 9 in the morning?
Derek swiftly travels up the stairs.
"Will you quit grunting?" Boyd asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
Stiles grunts again, "Well excuse me for feeling pain. You're not exactly in my position right now, are you?"
"Point taken, but if I were in your position, I wouldn't be so loud." Boyd laughed.
Derek cringed. Are they doing what I think they're doing?
Stiles moaned.
That's a yes.
"Oh, thank God." Boyd said. "Finally done. You take forever finish." Boyd grunts, and the sound of metal clunking caught Derek's attention.
He raises an eyebrow. Freaks.
"Ew, dude. You taste ridiculously salty." Stiles said.
Boyd chuckled, "No one told you to stick your tongue out."
Derek shook his head and barged into the room, "Okay, that's enou—What?"
Boyd was standing next to Stiles, who was sitting on a bench press beat red and panting.
"Derek? What are you doing here?" Stiles questioned, surprisingly not angrily.
"Uh…I came here to talk—what's going on here? I walked in and all I heard was grunting, moaning, and suggestive conversation."
Boyd's eyes flashed with surprise and immediately switched to disgust. "Oh my god. My Alpha has a sick mind. A sick mind. And why didn't you use your senses to figure out what's going? I don't know about you, but I don't smell sex."
Derek fished for words that weren't coming.
Stiles had an identical look of disgust on his face, "Wow, Derek. I called Boyd over to help me set this up," He motioned to the bench press, "and spot me during my workout. Sorry if I sound like I'm getting rammed up the as—"
Derek held up a hand, a light blush on his cheeks. "It's fine. Don't explain."
He awkwardly waved goodbye at the pair and disappeared.
Once he was safe in his Camaro he sighed, "Next time I'll knock."
Like! Review! Favorite!