Notes: This was requested by my friend sixchord before I started my teen wolf prompt project. She sent me a really goofy picture of Tyler Hoechlin and a sunset and I came up with the idea of Stiles and Derek on a deserted island. I sat down to write it and... this is what happened. It's pretty much complete crack.
Characters: Stiles, Derek
Genres: Crack!fic
Sunset
"This is easily the most ridiculous thing that has ever happened, ever."
Derek looks over at Stiles and shrugs. The kid is probably right, but he's too tired and too hot to care.
"So, let's list this all here. Witches exist. And you managed to piss one off. And her idea of a practical joke is..." Stiles waves a pale hand at the white sand and the never ending bright blue sea surrounding them. "Sending us to a destered island."
At this, Derek snorts. "Yeah, I was the one pissing her off."
"What?" Stiles turns toward him just a little and he his this indignant, insulted look on his face. If it's at all possible, Stiles somehow has that whole look all over. Most people just express feelings with their faces or their words. But not Stiles. No, he expresses things with his whole body and not just with words but with mountains of words. It makes something in Derek want to reach out and smack him.
"You kept correcting her. A thousands of years old witch, and you kept correcting her." Derek gives Stiles his best scowl and sits up a bit. They're sitting under the only patch of trees on the pathetic excuse for an island, have been for over an hour, and they have no idea what to do, so all they've been doing is bickering. And they're not even doing that very well, they just keep going over the same tired arguments again and again.
"Whatever, allright? We need to figure out how to get the hell off this island." Stiles runs a hand over the back of his head and groans. "How the hell are we going to get off this island?"
Derek shrugs. "I have no idea."
Stiles half-heartedly kicks some sand at Derek. Derek ignores it, mostly because almost none of the sand actually hits him. "You're the Alpha, aren't you supposed to be the one with the ideas?"
Again, Derek shrugs. "That doesn't help with coming up with anything."
"Well..." Stiles lets out a long sigh. "If we have no way of getting off this island, then I guess we better start preparing some shelter." He waves a hand at the setting sun and the purple and orange clouds. "It's going to be dark soon."
Really, this would almost be romantic. The beach, the waves, the postcard beautiful sunset... Well, it would be romantic if Derek had found himself stuck here with anyone other than Stiles.