Three Fairy Tales, One Prince
Author: tryslora
Title: Three Fairy Tales, One Prince
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek, Stiles
Summary: Fairies have a sense of humor. Stiles does not appreciate the fact that Derek is amused.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 883
Prompt: #19 - Waiting
Author's Notes: Something silly & fluffy this week. This is hot off the keyboard, so there are probably typos. Sorry!! Also, I don’t own Teen Wolf and am just playing with these guys.
“Call me Rapunzel and you are a dead wolf.”
Derek grins, eyes flashing briefly with humor. “You are trapped in a tower without doors, and I did have to scale the walls to rescue you. I think the fairies have a sense of humor.”
Stiles glowers, which Derek has to admit looks more like a frustrated puppy than anything dangerous. “I’m not a princess, waiting around for her prince.”
“I’m not a prince.”
That said, there are still no other ways out of the room than the way Derek came in: through the one open window. He tosses Stiles over his shoulder before he climbs back out, fingers tight against the hip of the squirming younger man. “Keep wiggling and I’ll drop you,” Derek warns.
“A prince wouldn’t do that,” Stiles points out. “If you’re going to rescue me, what’s the point of dropping me on my head?”
“I already told you, I’m not a prince.” Derek leaps off the wall, landing in a crouch and cushioning Stiles with his own body. He sets Stiles back on his feet and steps away. “So rescue yourself next time, princess.”
#
“An enslavement spell…” Derek sits on a rock and watches Stiles diligently clean-yes, sweep and dust and neaten up-around the base of a tree. “Which keeps you cleaning. Dirt. Outside.” He can’t stop himself from laughing. He tries, because you’re not supposed to laugh when one of your pack’s in trouble, but he really can’t help it.
Stiles is getting better at the glare. This time, Derek has no illusions of hurt puppies; this is pissed off and grumbling, which only makes him laugh again.
“Laugh it up, fuzzball,” Stiles grumbles. “And hah. Fucking hah. Stupid fucking fairies.”
“Planning on thanking me for getting rid of them?”
Stiles gives him a look. “Thank you.” His voice is flat. “Now how about breaking the spell? Because I’m pretty sure I could clean this stump for the next ten years and it would still be covered in pine needles and dirt. Do you know how hard it is going to be to get pine pitch out from under my fingernails?”
“I don’t know, you make a good Cinderella. All you need are some ugly step-sisters and a pumpkin coach…”
“I just have an asshole of an alpha,” Stiles snaps. His hand flicks out to brush a small cloud of dust from the bark of the tree. “Now fix it.”
Derek knows how fairies work-their magic is often centered around music and dancing. He hums to himself as he captures Stiles’s hand in his, places his other on the other man’s hip, and twists him into a waltz. After a few steps, Stiles relaxes, and by the time they stop, he is no longer twitching.
Stiles stands there for a moment, looking at his hands, then sighs in relief when he isn’t compelled to start cleaning again.
“I never knew you were a closet fairy tale fan.” Derek steps back to give him space. “Twice is starting to look like a pattern, princess.”
“I’m not a princess,” Stiles protests.
Derek laughs again. “And I’m not a prince. Just try not to get in trouble a third time.”
#
Derek knows exactly who Stiles is this time, from the quiescent beautiful features to the soft exhalation of every breath. Nothing wakes him; Scott tried for hours before coming to get Derek with a story about fairies, a spindle, and Stiles as still as death.
It chills Derek to the bone to see him like this, all jokes fleeing from his mind.
He sinks to his knees next to the bed, one hand against Stiles’s chest. He can feel the slight movement. He knows Stiles is still alive.
But the fairies are gone, fled after leaving this gift for Derek, and Derek has no idea what to do.
“Idiot,” he whispers, fingers drifting higher, sliding against the plane of Stiles’s jaw. “Stupid princess, waiting for his prince.”
Prince.
Princess.
Derek feels heat flood his cheeks, because he knows exactly what the fairies have done.
He even knows why.
He leans in slowly, as if Stiles might wake up abruptly and pull away before Derek can complete the movement. His mouth brushes against soft lips, stealing the soft whisper of breath into his kiss. He exhales back, warmth against Stiles’s mouth, and kisses him again. Soft, chaste, fear and affection more than hunger and need.
He feels a hand twitch, sees the movement in his peripheral vision as Stiles reaches for him, fingers threading through Derek’s hair and keeping him there as they kiss again.
“There are better ways of getting my attention, princess,” Derek murmurs.
“Mm.” Stiles smiles against the kiss. “Are you trying to say you’re a prince after all?”
“I just woke you with a kiss.” Derek won’t even touch the part where he knows that it is true love’s kiss that’s needed to break the spell, and that it has to be returned or it won’t work. One sided relationships don’t matter to the fairies. “Let’s just hope the fairies are done fucking around with us now.”
“Forget the fairies.” The kiss intensifies as Stiles teases with his tongue. “I’m done waiting around for my prince to come.”
Derek’s happy to do just that.
Title: Three Fairy Tales, One Prince
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek, Stiles
Summary: Fairies have a sense of humor. Stiles does not appreciate the fact that Derek is amused.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 883
Prompt: #19 - Waiting
Author's Notes: Something silly & fluffy this week. This is hot off the keyboard, so there are probably typos. Sorry!! Also, I don’t own Teen Wolf and am just playing with these guys.
“Call me Rapunzel and you are a dead wolf.”
Derek grins, eyes flashing briefly with humor. “You are trapped in a tower without doors, and I did have to scale the walls to rescue you. I think the fairies have a sense of humor.”
Stiles glowers, which Derek has to admit looks more like a frustrated puppy than anything dangerous. “I’m not a princess, waiting around for her prince.”
“I’m not a prince.”
That said, there are still no other ways out of the room than the way Derek came in: through the one open window. He tosses Stiles over his shoulder before he climbs back out, fingers tight against the hip of the squirming younger man. “Keep wiggling and I’ll drop you,” Derek warns.
“A prince wouldn’t do that,” Stiles points out. “If you’re going to rescue me, what’s the point of dropping me on my head?”
“I already told you, I’m not a prince.” Derek leaps off the wall, landing in a crouch and cushioning Stiles with his own body. He sets Stiles back on his feet and steps away. “So rescue yourself next time, princess.”
#
“An enslavement spell…” Derek sits on a rock and watches Stiles diligently clean-yes, sweep and dust and neaten up-around the base of a tree. “Which keeps you cleaning. Dirt. Outside.” He can’t stop himself from laughing. He tries, because you’re not supposed to laugh when one of your pack’s in trouble, but he really can’t help it.
Stiles is getting better at the glare. This time, Derek has no illusions of hurt puppies; this is pissed off and grumbling, which only makes him laugh again.
“Laugh it up, fuzzball,” Stiles grumbles. “And hah. Fucking hah. Stupid fucking fairies.”
“Planning on thanking me for getting rid of them?”
Stiles gives him a look. “Thank you.” His voice is flat. “Now how about breaking the spell? Because I’m pretty sure I could clean this stump for the next ten years and it would still be covered in pine needles and dirt. Do you know how hard it is going to be to get pine pitch out from under my fingernails?”
“I don’t know, you make a good Cinderella. All you need are some ugly step-sisters and a pumpkin coach…”
“I just have an asshole of an alpha,” Stiles snaps. His hand flicks out to brush a small cloud of dust from the bark of the tree. “Now fix it.”
Derek knows how fairies work-their magic is often centered around music and dancing. He hums to himself as he captures Stiles’s hand in his, places his other on the other man’s hip, and twists him into a waltz. After a few steps, Stiles relaxes, and by the time they stop, he is no longer twitching.
Stiles stands there for a moment, looking at his hands, then sighs in relief when he isn’t compelled to start cleaning again.
“I never knew you were a closet fairy tale fan.” Derek steps back to give him space. “Twice is starting to look like a pattern, princess.”
“I’m not a princess,” Stiles protests.
Derek laughs again. “And I’m not a prince. Just try not to get in trouble a third time.”
#
Derek knows exactly who Stiles is this time, from the quiescent beautiful features to the soft exhalation of every breath. Nothing wakes him; Scott tried for hours before coming to get Derek with a story about fairies, a spindle, and Stiles as still as death.
It chills Derek to the bone to see him like this, all jokes fleeing from his mind.
He sinks to his knees next to the bed, one hand against Stiles’s chest. He can feel the slight movement. He knows Stiles is still alive.
But the fairies are gone, fled after leaving this gift for Derek, and Derek has no idea what to do.
“Idiot,” he whispers, fingers drifting higher, sliding against the plane of Stiles’s jaw. “Stupid princess, waiting for his prince.”
Prince.
Princess.
Derek feels heat flood his cheeks, because he knows exactly what the fairies have done.
He even knows why.
He leans in slowly, as if Stiles might wake up abruptly and pull away before Derek can complete the movement. His mouth brushes against soft lips, stealing the soft whisper of breath into his kiss. He exhales back, warmth against Stiles’s mouth, and kisses him again. Soft, chaste, fear and affection more than hunger and need.
He feels a hand twitch, sees the movement in his peripheral vision as Stiles reaches for him, fingers threading through Derek’s hair and keeping him there as they kiss again.
“There are better ways of getting my attention, princess,” Derek murmurs.
“Mm.” Stiles smiles against the kiss. “Are you trying to say you’re a prince after all?”
“I just woke you with a kiss.” Derek won’t even touch the part where he knows that it is true love’s kiss that’s needed to break the spell, and that it has to be returned or it won’t work. One sided relationships don’t matter to the fairies. “Let’s just hope the fairies are done fucking around with us now.”
“Forget the fairies.” The kiss intensifies as Stiles teases with his tongue. “I’m done waiting around for my prince to come.”
Derek’s happy to do just that.