Stiles was walking down the hallway to Mr. Harris' classroom when he got a text. 'Meet me out front. Now.' Stiles was confused. He was sure he had never seen this number before. His leg buzzed again, jolting him from his thought process. Picking the phone out of his pocket, he looked at the new text. 'Make me late and I'll rip your throat out. With my teeth.'
Picking up his pace, he made his way to the front. Derek's black Camaro was parked out front, the passenger side open and waiting. Sliding in, he turned to Derek, "What do you want that's so throat rippy important?"
"I need your help Ok?" Derek said, anger seeping into his voice. "I need you to stay with me for a few days, maybe a week. A month, tops. The Alpha's are able to smell me. If you're around it'll throw them off my scent."
Stiles looked at Derek with a smile on his face. "So you need me to help you?"
"Will you help me or not?" Derek asked, looking at Stiles intently.
"Nope."
"What do you mean, 'nope'?" Derek asked, his eyes narrowing. Stiles smirked and cleared his throat, "No. Didn't think one word would be that difficult to understand, but apparently I was incorrect. No."
"Stiles, please." Derek turned, straightening in his seat, and looked out the windshield. Stiles looked at Derek like he had just spoken another language. But then he realized what was happening.
"You're scared." Derek laughed, shaking his head. "Wouldn't you be? You saw what Peter did to Laura. That was one Alpha. This is a pack of them"
Stiles chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before answering, "Alright."
"Seriously?" Derek was genuinely surprised, he figured that the human would have put his foot down, tired of having to cater to everyone else's needs. "Yes, I'll do it, but on one condition."
Derek rolled his eyes and sighed, knowing that he would surely have to go to some extreme lengths to appease him.
"I get to sleep in the bed, if anyone gets the floor it's going to be you, furr-ball."