Word: Prate

...

Stiles has a special ability to drive Derek absolutely insane. He talks constantly, as if he has no filter on his thoughts and simply has to say everything that comes to mind. The things he comes up with can range from complete and utter nonsense to a sharp razor wit laced with sarcasm, and sometimes, Stiles even says something that's useful and could actually be considered wise. Right now, however, Stiles is prating on about something that is definitely not wise nor useful.

"Hey, sourwolf! Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, Stiles. You're talking about demons eating salted popcorn."

"What's that face for? You don't think it'd work?" Stiles asks, eyes wide.

"It's a TV show, Stiles, what I think is irrelevant."

"Ugghhhh. No, it's not! What you think matters to me. Now, do you think it'd be enough to drive a demon out or not?"

Derek sighs, wishing he'd never agreed to marathon this damn show with Stiles in the first place. But, as insane as Stiles can drive him, there's not much he can say no to when Stiles gets that look on his face. (Or he's naked, and Stiles knows that, damn him.)

"It wouldn't work because they need a lot of salt to exorcise themselves from a host. You saw that woman eating bags of rock salt after giving birth to the Antichrist; I doubt a bucket of popcorn's going to do much."

Stiles kind of stares at him for a moment, Derek's little speech being processed in his mind. Then he grins. "That's awesome. I knew you were paying attention to the show!"

Derek puts his arm around Stiles' shoulders, pulling his boyfriend in close. Stiles smiles at him broadly and snuggles in closer, turning his attention back to the TV as Derek presses play on the remote. The opening credits for the show aren't even finished when Stiles shifts on the lounge and looks up at Derek, biting his lip as his eyes widen on purpose, the brat.

"Derek? Can you get me some popcorn?" Stiles asks.

Derek groans, his head hitting the back of the couch. He shoves Stiles off the couch unceremoniously on his way to the kitchen, ignoring his yelp of surprise.

"Love you too, sourwolf!" Stiles calls, grinning.

...

End of word challenge.

Thanks for reading!