Teen wolf one-shots

Anidote (Sterek)

"Hello, this is Stiles, the most awesome of the most awesomest beings in the whole of Beacon Hills. How may I help you?" The brunette teen drawled down the phone in greeting, as he lazed idly upon his bed, patting his stomach gently with his unoccupied hand, along to a tune that could only be heard in his head.

"Stiles, I need your help," Derek's familiar brash baritone growled in answer.

"What - you mean right now?" Stiles smirked playfully, as he flicked imaginary lint off his pillow.

Letting out an animalistic sound that left no doubt to the presence of the wolf that lurked just beneath all of his beautifully tan skin, Derek responded sarcastically, with an underline of tension in his voice, "No, tomorrow would be best - of course, I mean right now!"

"Well, there's no need to be a sour-wolf, is there? I was just asking," Stiles huffed out, with narrowed eyes locked upon his plain white ceiling, as he considered just hanging up.

That man is forever growling at me, he thought slightly irritated. If he wasn't such a sex god Stiles would punch him in the throat, and then promptly run away, on principle. He got it okay, Derek had had more than just his fair shit happen to him in his life, but they all had shit to deal with. It didn't excuse being a dick to everyone though, especially to him, who had gone out of his way on numerous occasions to save his growly-ungrateful-ass.

"And anyway - I can't - I'm busy."

"You're busy?" Derek asked, with a touch of incredulity in his voice, "I'm bleeding to death and you tell me you're busy - really Stiles - really?"

"Well, if you were nicer to me maybe I wouldn't be so busy, now would I? ...Wait, did you say bleeding to death, like, with blood!" He gasped, all but flinging his body up and off of the bed so fasted he gave himself a head rush.

Groaning, he stumbled through his house in a flustered rush, bashing into walls and tripping down every other step, as he made haste to his front door. Keys...where did he put his keys again?

"Look, Stiles - I don't care what you're doing, just get here before I have to hunt you down and rip your throat out...with my teeth."

Well, that sounds pleasant, Stiles thought to himself distractedly, as he overturned several of the pots his father kept on a cabinet by the front door. Ugh, he groaned in frustration, why couldn't they just have a key hook on the wall like everyone else?

"Keys - I need my keys, Derek!" Stiles all but screamed down the phone, make Derek on the other end of the line jerk it back from his ear with a wince. "The car - I left them in the car!"

Running, well, hoping since he had previously run into the doorframe and not out of it, Stiles only scarcely made it to his jeep in one piece. "Don't worry Derek, I'm coming!" He tried to set the wolf's mind at rest.

Stiles wasn't a 100% sure, but he thought he heard Derek mutter on the other end of the line, "Because that's so reassuring. Yep - I'm gonna' die." Nah, Stiles thought, he was just hearing things.

"Where are you?" Stiles inquired, after driving randomly for five minutes, suddenly realizing he hadn't a clue as to where the injured wolf was.

"My house - second floor - third door on the left," Derek grunted out in obvious pain, mentally willing Stiles to drive faster.

"Right, I got it. Your house - second floor - first door on the left," Stiles repeated into the phone with a confirming nod.

"THIRD! DOOR!" Derek shouted, making Stiles jump and almost drop his phone out the window as he found himself speeding down Derek's driveway.