Anti-Creepy Mansion | Friday Afternoon

[robinonadderall]

Stiles was dying. This was it, his last days on earth. He had clearly contracted some sort of ebola-like disease and was in the midst of shuffling his mortal coil. He would die on this couch.

Or he could just be really sick. It was probably that one.

At least it was his last day of torturing people in the mansion with his coughs and whining. He was going back to Beacon Hills tomorrow to torture his dad and the McCalls with it. Everybody deserved to deal with Stiles when he was like this. At least the werewolves couldn't catch anything.

[Open for the people that live there/visitors. Gotta get this brat out of town during the BDE. Stupid job with stupid working]

Comments

[robinonadderall]

"Because I'm not getting any better despite the fact you've been hovering over me for almost five days," Stiles said. "I feel bad that I haven't been getting any better 'cause you're helping when you don't need to."

But he didn't feel bad enough to voluntarily take that nasty ass medicine that claimed to be cherry. That wasn't cherry.

[justlurkinghere]

"I'm 'hovering' because you won't do anything," Derek shot back. "And you could have gone back to your dorm if this is that big a problem for you."

Mmmmm. Missing the point.

[robinonadderall]

"Did I say it was a problem?" Stiles said with less snark than he wanted to. That took energy he didn't have right now. "I can't make soup for myself without burning something and I have no idea how you managed to make my mom's soup right."

[justlurkinghere]

Derek rolled his eyes, shoving the dog at him. "You have me your dad's number, remember?"

It had been another traumatizing conversation.

[robinonadderall]

"You called him?" he asked, taking Puppy Joe and pulling him into a cuddle. "You called my dad for a soup recipe?"

[justlurkinghere]

"Yes." There was nothing wrong with that.

[robinonadderall]

"Oh...kay..." That was weird. That was a weird thing you did, Derek. "Well, thanks."

[justlurkinghere]

IT WASN'T WEIRD. AT ALL.

"You're the one that put his number in my phone."

[robinonadderall]

"Well I didn't think you'd be calling him up just to chat," Stiles said. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

[justlurkinghere]

"Maybe he'll actually keep me informed of what trouble you're getting into," Derek shot back. Because Stiles was sick and unable to defend himself.

[robinonadderall]

"Hate to break it to you, Derek, but until recently my dad knew even less than you do." Don't bring up this argument while he was sick, it wasn't fair.

[justlurkinghere]

Derek just stared at him for that before turning and walking away. Because he couldn't even with you, Stiles. Lost the ability to even.

[robinonadderall]

"Where are you going?" He meant to call that out like a normal person but it came out as more of a croak instead.

[justlurkinghere]

"To the kitchen," Derek called back, subdued as he walked on the random ice. Werewolf powers.

Because making himself coffee was preferable to... anything with Stiles at that moment.

[robinonadderall]

"Fine. Leave me here to die." At least you'd be rid of his dramatic ass soon, Derek.

[justlurkinghere]

If only. Oh, if only.

"And stop joking about that," he snapped, yanking on the cabinet door almost hard enough to break something.

[robinonadderall]

You could probably hear Stiles' eye roll from the kitchen. "Oh fine."

There was the sound of covers being rustled around as Stiles pulled them over his head. He couldn't really slam a door in this condition so this would have to do.