Stiles sat on the worn-in arm chair, a frown glued to his face. He couldn't believe Scott. Leaving him with no other then Derek; especially in that condition. Couldn't he have waited a few hours before running off to see Allison?
Derek Hale was sprawled out on the couch –Stiles' couch! – sleeping, right in the middle of the Stilinski's house too! If only Stiles' father could have seen the sleeping sour wolf, then Derek wouldn't be sleeping on Stiles' couch, he'd be kicked outside. Hopefully handcuffed and stuck in a cold jail cell for the night.
How could Derek even be that stupid, anyway? He's the one always telling the other werewolves to be careful, "Think before you act!". He sure wasn't thinking when he decided to attack that mouthy Beta a few hours ago. Obviously he wasn't smart or careful enough to realize that there were three other Beta's behind him.
Now Stiles had to look after the stupid man while he healed. Scott was so going to pay him back big.
Stiles was mostly annoyed at the fact that it was Derek. He would have been more than happy to look after Scott or Isaac. Hell, even that tool Jackson. But count his lucky stars, it had to be Derek.
Maybe it wouldn't be as bad or nearly as awkward if Scott, that bloody brainiac, never brought up the idea of the no-clothes thing.
"But it'll be easier to make sure his wounds are healing!" Scott, Stiles' former best friend had suggested.
"Well, he does have a point," Isaac had said, clearing forming an alliance with his ex-friend Scott.
"Bull shit!" Stiles mumbled as he helped undress the stupid werewolf to his underwear.
Stiles sat, even more pissed off since thinking about it, watching the werewolf's wounds slowly heel and vanish.
On the brightside though, the great Alpha Derek got his butt kicked by a couple of Betas.
Author Note: I wrote this really late one night. Well, I guess it would be considered incredibly early in the morning! Just a little drabble, I hope you enjoy it.
Rated for the bit of foul language.