S͟T͟E͟R͟E͟K͟ I͟M͟A͟G͟I͟N͟E͟S͟

And the cold pulls you down

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Angst, ghosts, mpreg
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Stiles unpacks the last of his stuff on a Tuesday and it's unsatisfyingly anticlimactic. He dumps the box in the corner of the room to take out for recycling later and slowly turns a full circle, eyeing things critically. There are footsteps on the stairs that turn and head down the hallway towards him, and he twists to face the doorway in anticipation. Derek pauses, one hand pressed against the door jamb as he leans into the room, holding out a glass of water.

"For you," he says and Stiles takes it appreciatively, gulping it down as he wipes his forehead with the back of his arm. "Is that the last of it?"

"For now," Stiles says with a sigh. "Definitely should have thrown this shit out."

Derek makes a thoughtful face and Stiles points a finger at him.

"Don't say 'I told you so'," Stiles accuses and Derek blinks at him.

"Wasn't going to," Derek says, in what is clearly a lie and Stiles sighs again.

"We should have done this earlier," he complains. "There was an inch of dust on everything from sitting here for months."

"Come downstairs and relax," Derek suggests and Stiles takes another look at the room.

"I really need to organize that desk," he admits, passing the empty glass back to Derek, who accepts it without complaint.

"There's a Mythbusters marathon on the TV," Derek tells him and Stiles makes a pained noise and gives in almost immediately.

"The desk can wait," he says and turns to find the corner of Derek's mouth curled up in an almost-smile.

The desk can definitely wait.

*

"Have I told you how much I hate this room?" Stiles directs to Derek's ass as Derek bends over to pick up an armful of stuffed animals off the ground.

"No," Derek deadpans, which is fair enough because Stiles thinks he's told Derek his feelings about it every day since they moved in.

"They have to disclose deaths in a house before they sell it, right?"

"Stiles, no one died in this house. It was built two years ago." Derek is slightly less credible when arguing with a large plush rabbit tucked under one arm, but Stiles will allow it.

"Yeah, but if the house is only two years old, why move? This place is perfect."

Derek sets the toys inside the crib and turns back towards Stiles.

"People move, Stiles," he says. "Some people get new jobs and move away. Some people find out they're accidentally pregnant two months into their marriage and decide they need a bigger house."

Stiles rubs a palm over his rounded stomach and feels his face heat.

"Our situation wasn't ideal," Stiles admits and Derek interrupts.

"This isn't about our situation," he tells Stiles softly, taking a step closer to press a comforting hand against him. "I'm just saying that people move and it's not always nefarious."