Derek opens his front door and glares. "What?"
Stiles jumps and yanks his hand back. "Woah. You do that on purpose, don't you?'
Derek glares harder. It's Sunday afternoon and he was trying to relax when he heard Stiles' jeep drive up. There was never anything good on TV but the point was that he was trying to relax and Stiles is the furthest thing from relaxing.
Stiles puts his hands up. "I'm just saying, a lot of the things you do are done when they're most unexpected. That kind of timing has to be planned. Opening doors right before the person on the other side knocks, appearing right behind a person when they say your name, making—"
Derek cuts him off. "Stiles. Why are you here?"
"Oh, right. Have you seen Scott?"
"Well, do you know where I can find him? He's not picking up and he hasn't replied to any of my texts."
"I don't know where McCall is."
"Oh. Well, if you see him, could you tell him to give me back my Adderall?"
"Okay." Derek nods. "Is that all, Stilinski?"
Derek waits for a reply. Stiles just stands there. "Stilinski?"
Stiles snaps up, flailing his hands before focusing on Derek. "Woah! What?"
"I said," Derek says, grounding the words out through his teeth, "Is. That. All?"
"Uhh...I guess? What did I just say?"
Derek glares and clenches his fists. "You asked me to tell Scott to give you back your Adderall if I saw him." Derek pauses. "Why does he have your Adderall? Did he play a prank on you?"
Stiles shakes his head. "No, no. Scott wouldn't do that. It's just that I asked him to hold on to it Friday while we were at school because there's this huge werewolf-induced hole in my bag and I couldn't just stick the bottle in my pants and I was going to get it back from him but he left for a date with Allison before I could and I thought that I could just get it from him the day after but I couldn't find him yesterday and he hasn't been replying and Allison hasn't been replying and I still can't find him anywhere and nobody seems to know where he is." Stiles breathes. "So, um, yeah. Did I zone out earlier?"
Derek arches an eyebrow but answers, "Yes."
"Oh." Stiles looks thoughtful and says, "Do you think you could drive me home?"
"What." Derek crosses his arms.
Stiles raises his hands defensively. "Hey, it was just a request."
"I'm not your chaffeur."
"No, you're totally not, I never said you were. It's just that I was getting sleepy when I was halfway here and I shouldn't be driving if I'm zoning out. Oh, how about just letting me stay over instead?"
"What," Derek repeats and he growls. "Why did you even drive here? Couldn't you have just texted me?"
"I would, you know, if I actually had your number!"
"You don't have it?"
"No." Stiles snorts. "You never gave it to me."
"I told Scott to give it to you."
"Well, he never did." Stiles looks frustrated. "Look, I haven't taken my medication for almost two days now and I really, really need them. I can't drive so either you drive me home or let me stay over!"
There's a pause and the only warning Derek gets is Stiles' head drooping before his knees buckle and Stiles collapses. Derek reacts immediately, stretching his arms forward and yanking on the teen's jacket to keep him upright.
"Stiles!" Derek checks to see if he's still breathing. He is. "You better not have done that on purpose."
He shakes Stiles, who remains limp in his arms, and he growls. "Stiles," Derek warns.
The other boy mumbles something incoherent and presses his head closer to Derek's chest, hands grabbing the back of his shirt.
The werewolf exhales in relief. He stands there for a while, unsure of what just happened. They couldn't stay on the porch forever and Stiles is getting heavy so Derek grunts and winds his arms around the other boy's waist before carrying him all the way to the living room. The TV is playing some boring drama he wasn't paying attention to in the first place and Derek ignores it in favor of guiding the both of them to the couch.
He leans forward and tries to coax Stiles in letting go of him, attempting to shake him off and even resorting to pushing him away but stops before his shirt ends up stretched out from Stiles' grip.
"You're a stealth cuddler, aren't you?" Derek accuses.
Stiles just burrows his face deeper into Derek's shirt.
Derek sighs and slowly sits down, Stiles still latching onto him like an octopus. Stiles' fainting was a surprise but he looks like he would be fine. Derek doesn't want to wake him up though. He isn't willing to take any chances with whatever happened. Now that he's paying attention, both Stiles' heartbeat and breathing were slower. If he hadn't seen him pass out right in front of him, Derek would say he was just deep asleep.
Derek shifts a bit and grunts, moving his hands lower and groped around Stiles' jeans for the teen's phone. After fetching it out from the right pocket, he looks at the contacts and programs his own number in before sending Stiles' father a text saying, I'm staying over at a friend's place tonight. Hopefully it wasn't too out of character but Stiles could deal with the fallout himself.
Derek grumbles and takes out his own phone after some effort. He sends Scott a text that says, Stiles collapsed and He's at my place and He's fine now, looks like he's sleeping. Where the hell have you been? and Get your ass over here right now.
Satisfied, Derek leans back against the couch, huffing from Stiles' weight. There's little chance of relaxing now with all the worry of what just happened to Stiles. He frowns at the boy in question who, as if sensing Derek's glare, clings tighter to him.