ficlet: In a Hole
Author: froggydarren
Title: In a Hole
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek, Stiles, Scott
Summary: The walls of the dug out hole are still too high to climb, and the mud is still too wet to grab onto, even for a werewolf. Stiles would stand no chance, not when he knows that Derek - who is obviously the one stuck with him, because of course - couldn’t climb up.
Warnings: n/a
Content Notes: established relationship
Submission Type: ficlet
Word Count: 841
Prompt: #254 - paddle
Author's Notes: So, my brain latched on to paddle in the "up sh*t creek without a paddle" and refused to let go. Thus, this. Unbetaed and late, as usual.
“Well, we’re screwed. Fucked. Up shit creek without a paddle. Actually, a paddle would be nice right about now. There may not be real shit up this creek, and this might not be a creek at all, but a paddle would be most helpful.”
“Stiles?”
“Shut up?”
“Yeah.”
Stiles huffs, but stops rambling for a moment. Instead, he takes their surroundings in one more time. Not that anything has changed since they were tossed in. The walls of the dug out hole are still too high to climb, and the mud is still too wet to grab onto, even for a werewolf. Stiles would stand no chance, not when he knows that Derek - who is obviously the one stuck with him, because of course - couldn’t climb up.
“You know, the last time one of you fell in a hole, he just jumped right out,” Stiles comments, remembering the time when he was tracking Theo through the forest with Liam. “Granted, smaller hole,” he adds quickly when Derek gives him an unimpressed look.
“I thought you grew out of this,” Derek tells him, pacing the circumference of the hole.
“What? Getting in trouble?”
“No, I’m pretty sure that’s a permanent condition.”
Stiles lets out an offended gasp.
“I mean the rambling. You haven’t done so much of it lately,” Derek says.
“Well, it’s not like you were around much lately to know,” Stiles says, and even he hears the hint of hurt in his words.
“You know why I wasn’t,” Derek tells him, only offering a quick glance before he turns to look at the muddy walls surrounding them.
“Doesn’t make it any less shitty,” Stiles mumbles.
“Well, I’m here now. Not that it’s helpful.”
“At least I’m not stuck here alone? And neither are you,” Stiles points out, then frowns when Derek looks at him, eyebrow raised. “Oh don’t even try telling me you would’ve taken a different route. You’d still be here, alone, and without a phone. Since you’re too good for those, apparently.”
“Again, you know why,” Derek says. “Not like yours is much good.”
“It’s absolutely not my fault that Scott and the pack are ignoring distress calls,” Stiles grumbles.
“Maybe it’s because you’ve been talking their ears off with incessant rambling too much, and they’re trying to avoid it,” Derek tells him.
“Ouch, that hurts. Right here,” Stiles says, hand against his chest. “You wound me. Also, you love when I talk. I have very clear memories of you asking me to talk more.”
Even in the low light, he sees the way Derek’s ears turn red.
“That’s different.”
“Could be the same. We’re here, we’re alone, there’s obviously no one coming to rescue us. We could find ways to make this about the kind of talking you do like,” Stiles offers.
“It’s wet. It’s cold. We’re stuck ten feet down a hole that even I can’t climb out of, and you’ve just decided that thinking with your dick is the way to go?” Derek asks incredulously.
“You’re here. I am man enough to admit that when you’re close, especially after weeks of being away, my dick wants to make up for lost time,” Stiles tells him. “It missed you. I missed you.”
Derek’s face softens a little as he looks at Stiles, but he doesn’t echo Stiles’s words. Instead, he looks up where the sky is visible through the trees surrounding the muddy hole, and Stiles could swear that his ears actually twitch.
“What is it? Someone coming?”
“Shut up,” Derek grunts, and unceremoniously shoves Stiles towards the wall behind him, then stands in front of him to try to cover him up.
It’s sort of pointless when Stiles is the same height, and can’t stop peeking over Derek’s shoulder to see if anyone really is above their heads. Also, their bodies are now flush against each other, and when Stiles wiggles his hips a little, Derek huffs.
“Stop it. Now is really not the time.”
Stiles has the decency to blush and stop moving. Not because he thinks there is ever not the time to react to Derek’s physical presence, but because he does hear voices from above, like he figures Derek must have moments earlier. Before he can say anything else, Scott peers in over the edge and immediately zeroes in on Derek and Stiles.
“Did you two fall in a hole?”
Stiles lets out an offended huff, but refrains from commenting that Scott would have known this if he’d checked his phone. Instead, he glares, chin still hooked over Derek’s shoulder.
“You gonna help us out?”
Then, when Scott nods and disappears, hopefully to find a rope or a ladder, Stiles turns his head and whispers into Derek’s ear, low enough that he knows it won’t carry outside to the others.
“Once we’re out, I’m gonna need a shower. And if you join me, we can go back to the kind of talking that you like.”
He doesn’t cheer when he feels Derek shudder against him, but it’s a close call.
Title: In a Hole
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek, Stiles, Scott
Summary: The walls of the dug out hole are still too high to climb, and the mud is still too wet to grab onto, even for a werewolf. Stiles would stand no chance, not when he knows that Derek - who is obviously the one stuck with him, because of course - couldn’t climb up.
Warnings: n/a
Content Notes: established relationship
Submission Type: ficlet
Word Count: 841
Prompt: #254 - paddle
Author's Notes: So, my brain latched on to paddle in the "up sh*t creek without a paddle" and refused to let go. Thus, this. Unbetaed and late, as usual.
“Well, we’re screwed. Fucked. Up shit creek without a paddle. Actually, a paddle would be nice right about now. There may not be real shit up this creek, and this might not be a creek at all, but a paddle would be most helpful.”
“Stiles?”
“Shut up?”
“Yeah.”
Stiles huffs, but stops rambling for a moment. Instead, he takes their surroundings in one more time. Not that anything has changed since they were tossed in. The walls of the dug out hole are still too high to climb, and the mud is still too wet to grab onto, even for a werewolf. Stiles would stand no chance, not when he knows that Derek - who is obviously the one stuck with him, because of course - couldn’t climb up.
“You know, the last time one of you fell in a hole, he just jumped right out,” Stiles comments, remembering the time when he was tracking Theo through the forest with Liam. “Granted, smaller hole,” he adds quickly when Derek gives him an unimpressed look.
“I thought you grew out of this,” Derek tells him, pacing the circumference of the hole.
“What? Getting in trouble?”
“No, I’m pretty sure that’s a permanent condition.”
Stiles lets out an offended gasp.
“I mean the rambling. You haven’t done so much of it lately,” Derek says.
“Well, it’s not like you were around much lately to know,” Stiles says, and even he hears the hint of hurt in his words.
“You know why I wasn’t,” Derek tells him, only offering a quick glance before he turns to look at the muddy walls surrounding them.
“Doesn’t make it any less shitty,” Stiles mumbles.
“Well, I’m here now. Not that it’s helpful.”
“At least I’m not stuck here alone? And neither are you,” Stiles points out, then frowns when Derek looks at him, eyebrow raised. “Oh don’t even try telling me you would’ve taken a different route. You’d still be here, alone, and without a phone. Since you’re too good for those, apparently.”
“Again, you know why,” Derek says. “Not like yours is much good.”
“It’s absolutely not my fault that Scott and the pack are ignoring distress calls,” Stiles grumbles.
“Maybe it’s because you’ve been talking their ears off with incessant rambling too much, and they’re trying to avoid it,” Derek tells him.
“Ouch, that hurts. Right here,” Stiles says, hand against his chest. “You wound me. Also, you love when I talk. I have very clear memories of you asking me to talk more.”
Even in the low light, he sees the way Derek’s ears turn red.
“That’s different.”
“Could be the same. We’re here, we’re alone, there’s obviously no one coming to rescue us. We could find ways to make this about the kind of talking you do like,” Stiles offers.
“It’s wet. It’s cold. We’re stuck ten feet down a hole that even I can’t climb out of, and you’ve just decided that thinking with your dick is the way to go?” Derek asks incredulously.
“You’re here. I am man enough to admit that when you’re close, especially after weeks of being away, my dick wants to make up for lost time,” Stiles tells him. “It missed you. I missed you.”
Derek’s face softens a little as he looks at Stiles, but he doesn’t echo Stiles’s words. Instead, he looks up where the sky is visible through the trees surrounding the muddy hole, and Stiles could swear that his ears actually twitch.
“What is it? Someone coming?”
“Shut up,” Derek grunts, and unceremoniously shoves Stiles towards the wall behind him, then stands in front of him to try to cover him up.
It’s sort of pointless when Stiles is the same height, and can’t stop peeking over Derek’s shoulder to see if anyone really is above their heads. Also, their bodies are now flush against each other, and when Stiles wiggles his hips a little, Derek huffs.
“Stop it. Now is really not the time.”
Stiles has the decency to blush and stop moving. Not because he thinks there is ever not the time to react to Derek’s physical presence, but because he does hear voices from above, like he figures Derek must have moments earlier. Before he can say anything else, Scott peers in over the edge and immediately zeroes in on Derek and Stiles.
“Did you two fall in a hole?”
Stiles lets out an offended huff, but refrains from commenting that Scott would have known this if he’d checked his phone. Instead, he glares, chin still hooked over Derek’s shoulder.
“You gonna help us out?”
Then, when Scott nods and disappears, hopefully to find a rope or a ladder, Stiles turns his head and whispers into Derek’s ear, low enough that he knows it won’t carry outside to the others.
“Once we’re out, I’m gonna need a shower. And if you join me, we can go back to the kind of talking that you like.”
He doesn’t cheer when he feels Derek shudder against him, but it’s a close call.