Word: Strident

...

The door opened on strident hinges, Stiles wincing as the sound seemed to pierce his eardrums. Maybe this was a bad idea. Okay, objectively, Stiles knew that it was a bad idea, but he also hoped that it could end up as a good thing, which essentially made the bad idea a good one, right? Right. Still, he felt bad as he crept through the loft that he'd just broken into (that was a main part of the whole 'this is a bad idea' thing), even though the end totally justified the means. Besides, could it really be considered breaking in if the owner was out of town, and he had a key?

"Stiles? What are you doing?"

He froze at the familiar voice, turning around to come face to face with a sleepy and confused Derek. Stiles winced and set down his bags, trying not to look as guilty as he felt.

"Heeyyy, Derek! I didn't know you were back already. You should've text to let me know! Where'd you park your car?" he added, frowning.

"I got home at three this morning and parked around the back," Derek said, yawning and scratching his head. (Stiles' heart did not go all funny at the word home. It didn't. Really.) "Didn't think you'd appreciate a text at that time of the morning."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks. Go back to sleep, all right?" Stiles said, inching his way over to the door again; he could come back for the bags when Derek was asleep again.

So yeah, this was a bad idea then. A very bad idea, Stiles thought to himself. In fact, it could go in a contest for the dumbest idea to ever be conceived, and it would win every year from now until the end of time.

"What are you doing here?" Derek asked again, his brain seeming to catch up and realise that Stiles actually hadn't answered him.

If he'd caught on to that already, it wouldn't take long for him to notice the bags. Shit.

"I just came to check up on things while you were away," he said.

It was obvious that Derek caught his lie and wasn't impressed in the slightest.

"Right. And the bags?"

"Ugh, fine. I came to do something to surprise you, but you're here now and the surprise is ruined and it was a stupid idea anyway, so just forget about it," Stiles snapped, grabbing the bags forcefully and heading back over to the loft door.

Of course, with his bad plan and his current unlucky streak, one of the bags just had to break open before he could make his exit, the contents spilling out across the floor.

"Are those throw pillows?"

Stiles stopped at the loft door and let his forehead connect with it heavily. (That action could be a runner up in the bad idea contest, he thought, his head throbbing in pain.)

"Stiles, I'm running on about four hours of sleep here; can you just explain what's going on so I can go back to bed?" Derek asked, unintentionally making Stiles feel even worse because he just sounded exhausted.

Stiles turned around and slumped back against the door. He played with the hem of his shirt, not looking up at Derek. "It was meant to be a welcome home gift to surprise you; something to brighten the place up a bit. Not that the loft isn't great and all, but honestly, it's kinda like hugging a porcupine without the cute animal factor. Stupid idea, I know."

"A welcome home gift?" Derek echoed, sounding surprised. "I've been gone for three days, Stiles."

"I'm aware of that," Stiles muttered. "Like I said, it was a stupid idea. I'll go, you get some rest, 'kay?"

"Is your dad at work?"

Okay, out of everything Derek could have said, that was not a response Stiles would have expected. "Yeah, he is. Why?"

"That means your house is empty and probably quieter than it would be if I stayed here while you did your thing."

"What, really?" Stiles asked, brightening up.

"Yeah, the place could do with some colour. I'll be back by sunset. Try not to break anything," Derek added.

Stiles nodded so emphatically that he heard his neck crack. Derek went to leave, but Stiles grabbed his wrist before he could go.

"Where do you think you're going without even giving me a kiss hello or goodbye?" he asked, grinning cheekily.

Derek smirked and moved closer, backing Stiles up against the door. He leaned in, arms on either side of Stiles, his gaze flicking down to his lips just as Stiles licked them in anticipation. Derek made a small noise at that and then proceeded to kiss the fuck out of Stiles, tongue licking into his mouth, teeth biting at his bottom lip, hand tilting his jaw back, and his stubble rubbing against Stiles' chin harshly. Holy fuck, he had missed getting beard burn and it had only been three days.

"Better?" Derek asked as he pulled away, looking smug when Stiles just made an incoherent and dazed noise in response.

Derek pressed a chaste kiss to Stiles' lips and left him standing there, throw pillows scattered on the floor, as he tried to catch his breath.

"Love you too, sourwolf," Stiles muttered when he finally had his breath back a few minutes later. (He swore he heard Derek laugh.)

He hummed as he began picking up the throw pillows, taking them over to the couch before returning for the rest of the bags. Stiles had purchased a rug for the lounge area that he knew everyone would love simply because it felt fucking awesome to lay on (the store clerk had looked at him oddly but didn't comment). This was an awesome idea.

...

Derek parked in the Stilinski residence's driveway, glancing down at the key that was hanging off his keyring. Stiles had given it to him before he'd left, and it was now one of three keys he owned (one was for his car, the other for his loft, and four days ago, that's all that Derek thought he'd needed). It would be his first time using it today, and he was surprised to realise that he was nervous. It was ridiculous to feel that way, of course. He'd been inside Stiles' home plenty of times - and not just through the window - but going in with his own key just felt so much bigger. Still, he really was exhausted, and Derek's need to sleep outweighed everything else.

Heading over to the front door, he opened it and headed upstairs quickly. It was better to get it over and done with, just like ripping off a band-aid (or so he'd been told). Derek let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding after he stepped into Stiles' room. It was familiar territory, and everything smelled like Stiles, which soothed his frayed emotions.

Tired, Derek toed off his shoes and climbed into Stiles' bed, hugging Stiles' pillow to his chest and breathing in deeply. Across town, Stiles was making a home for them, and he couldn't help but feel happy that Stiles had decided to do this on his own. It wasn't quite a pack mother instinct, but it was close enough; the need to look after everyone and everything started in the home, after all. Smiling to himself, Derek let Stiles' scent wash over him as he drifted off to sleep.

...

End of word challenge.

Thanks for reading!