There's a first aid kit spilling out onto the table. Stiles plays nursemaid to their injuries. They're half-healed already but Boyd has a cut dangerously close to his eye that Stiles cleans out carefully and Isaac danced into the fight with enough time to get himself kicked into a tree.
Scott's ribs ache in a way that tells him he may have cracked something. Derek frowns when he sees the stretch and wince of Scott testing the feeling.
"You hurt?"
His first instinct is to lie. Hurt means he has to be careful and being careful never pans out the way he means it to.
Derek sees the pause and saves him the trouble. "Sit."
Scott perches on the coffee table, drawing everyone's attention his way.
"Shirt."
Scott stares incredulously. Then he flashes a grin and eagerly tosses the clothing aside. Derek looks annoyed but he can't hide the way his lips twitch for just a moment as Scott stares at him expectantly.
His hands poke and press each of Scott's ribs carefully. It aches but it's not pain, not the broken kind of pain anyway. Scott sucks in a sharp breath as Derek finds the worst of the bruise, though, and the hands hesitate.
"How long until your birthday?" he mutters.
He says it almost like an afterthought, a distraction. Scott doesn't even hesitate to answer. "Three hours, forty six minutes."
Derek's eyes dart up to his, shining in amusement.
"Is he alright or are you just enjoying feeling him up?"
Erica snickers at her own joke. The whole pack finds it funny but it's Derek's words that throw them off.
"Both. Stiles, get this crap put away."
They each pause, looking between Scott's bright red flush and their Alpha's retreating back, and they laugh uncertainly. "Heh. Funny."
They hang around for awhile longer before trickling out of the house. Scott steals a shower then steals one of Derek's shirts and lounges on the bed. He spends a moment resting his eyes until he hears the sound of feet at the door.
Derek is eyeing him with a smirk, his arms across his chest and his shoulder propped against the doorframe.
"We're still two hours away."
Scott gasps. "And I thought you couldn't tell time! I was starting to feel like you weren't keeping track."
Five months and Derek has continued to ask Scott how much longer they have to wait. Maybe he still needed the reminder.
Eyes narrowed playfully, Derek climbs onto the bed, hovering above Scott teasingly. "Hard to forget. Do you have plans, by the way? For tomorrow?"
Scott shrugs one shoulder awkwardly and loops his arms around Derek's neck. "Not really."
Stiles would undoubtedly show up at his door at some ungodly hour with pancake mix and a mountain of uncooked bacon but Scott had purposely avoided making plans for the night, not very subtly hoping to have much better things to do.
"Good."
Then Derek kisses him and Scott begins to try one last time to get him to break his promise.
