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Batman Band-Aids

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 The morning of December tenth resulted in giving Stiles a Disney Princess moment. He woke easily and with a smile on his face. He stretched, working out all the kinks in his back and took a deep breath

 Today was a good day, and he was in a good mood.

 On Derek’s side on the bed, said Sourwolf was curled up on his side with his back to Stiles. From what he could tell going by shoulders, Derek’s breathing was even. He was probably still asleep.

 “Morning sleepy head.” Stiles greeted. He threw an arm over Derek’s side and nuzzled the space in between his shoulder blades. “Rise and shine. We have breakfast to make and a snowman army to build and fight with.”

 But Derek still wasn’t moving from his position. So he was either sleeping heavily -something Stiles didn’t know him to do- or he was ignoring Stiles. The latter was more likely.

 “Is that how it is?” Stiles gasped. “The Derek Hale ignoring me?” He got up on his knees and peered over to look at his face, ready to start nagging and making fun of him when he paused. Derek’s eyes were open, but he wasn’t really looking anywhere. There were also dark bags under his eyes, which was a clear sign Derek wasn’t doing well

 Stiles raked his fingers through Derek’s hair, laid back down, wrapped his arms around him, and whispered he’d get up later to make a mess of the kitchen whenever he decided to make them something to eat.




 Derek didn’t get out of bed the whole day except if he needed to use the bathroom. Stiles didn’t push him to do anything or to talk, especially since his own days of recovery were still fresh in his mind and his actions.

 Derek either had a nightmare or he just woke up and wasn’t having a good day.

 But not having a good day was okay. They happened. And when Derek was ready, they’d have a good one.

 So Stiles instead just went about the house doing anything he felt. He made breakfast for them both but left Derek’s plate on his nightstand. He cleaned the kitchen. He vacuumed the carpets. He played the burned cd’s. At one point, he even went outside and built his own snowman.

 Each time he was about to move on to doing something new, he wandered back into their room. The first time to take Derek’s plate down after he ate what he wanted. The second was to pull the covers up more around his shoulder. The third just so he could cuddle against Derek for a nap of his own. The fourth to show Derek the picture of the snowman he built.

 “Look, it’s you.” he said, shoving the phone in Derek’s face. The spaced out look in his eyes cleared a bit as he looked at the picture. “I broke some sticks and stuck it above the eyes. I got to say, the eyebrows I made could rival yours.

 Derek slowly rose one said eyebrow. Stiles beamed down at him.

 “I think I’m going to leave it up so it can go unrivaled.” He said cheerily, right before realization dawned on him. “Oh my god, will the snow cover him up?” Stiles asked, mostly to himself, absentmindedly running his fingers along Derek’s back. ‘Is there even supposed to be more snow today? Or tomorrow? Fuck, I’m gonna have to check out the whether, aren’t I?”

 Stiles gave a long, suffering sigh at the thought. He hated checking the weather on Derek’s stupid radio thingy. It was irritating. He’d just settle for looking out the window and making a guess for now.

 “I’m gonna make us a late lunch.” Stiles said. He patted Derek’s shoulder and was headed back downstairs.




 Stiles ran his towel through his hair to get the last bits of the lingering water still in it. He sat on the corner of the bed while he did so so when he was done he could put the towel up and get in bed. Which is exactly what he did.

 He slid under the covers and moved around enough so he was comfortable. Stiles stared at the nape of Derek’s neck. He could tell by now when Derek was and wasn’t sleeping.

 “C’mon, big guy, don’t make yourself a stranger.” Stiles said. He tugged on Derek’s shoulder but he didn’t budge.

 “Come on Derek, cuddle are a thing that needs to happen.” Stiles began. “I mean, I could cuddle you as you are, but at the same time I kinda wanna see your face. You have a very nice face for long moments of staring-”

 Derek rolled over and pressed his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck, which effectively shut him up. That was probably the goal of the cuddles anyway and he couldn’t help but smile.

 “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist my charm.” He said smugly. Derek made a sound in his chest in response.

 Chuckling, Stiles wound his arms around Derek. He moved so he was on his back and Derek could sling half of his body on top of him. It was 100% worth it. He was warm and they got to hold each other to fall asleep. That was a win in Stiles’ book.




 The morning of December eleventh brought Derek (a.k.a The Octopus) clinging to Stiles. Derek had tangled their legs together, pressed one hand under Stiles’ back and the other was thrown over his stomach. He felt Derek’s beard tickling his neck as he breathed.

 Stiles has already been up for some time, but he hasn’t tried to move from where he was lying. He was comfortable and he was finding that he really enjoyed being to one to hold Derek. His fingers trailed up and down Derek’s back gently until he woke up.

 It was around ten in the morning when Derek opened his eyes.

 “Hi.” Stiles greeted with a smile.

 “Hi.” Derek greeted softly back.

 “Are you hungry?” He asked.

 “A little.” Derek mumbled.

 “Want me to make us something?” Derek shrugged.

 Stiles was back in their room in ten minutes with two bowls of cheesy grits. All he had to do was mix grits and water and heat it up, but it was meant to be quick.

 Unlike yesterday, when Stiles went up to give Derek his breakfast, he was sitting up.

 “Here.” Stiles said, and handed him his bowl.

 He talked as they ate together. He babbled about how they should eat in bed more and how he used to hate grits unless his mom made hot dogs and put them in his grits with honey. He went on and on about how they absolutely had to start hiking again because the trails were covered in snow now and the leaves were gone so it was going to be like they were exploring a whole new forest which would be awesome .

 Derek bumped their shoulders together and got up to go to the bathroom. Stiles smiled and placed their bowls on the nightstand. He got in the doorway as soon as Derek was opening the door.

 “You know what you should do?” Stiles asked. Derek just looked at him. “You should shower before you leave the bathroom.”

 Derek just grunted in response but allowed Stiles to walk into the bathroom with him. He turned on the water for the shower and made sure the temperature was good.

 “Okay big guy, get clean.” Stiles said and patted his shoulder. Right before he could go though, Derek grabbed his wrist.

 He looked tired, but the look on his face as he looked at Stiles was a grateful one. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but didn’t.

 “You don’t need to say anything.” Stiles told him. “I get it. You don’t have to feel bad or feel sorry. I get it.”

 Derek looked relieved and gave Stiles a small smile. It made him feel warm inside.

 “Now let’s stop wasting water.” Stiles said. He walked closer and took the hem of Derek’s, tugging it up and off of him. Derek stepped to the shower and pulled off his boxers and stepped inside. Stiles made sure to avert his eyes as he walked out of the bathroom.

 Since Derek didn’t have a tv in his room, Stiles got a portable dvd player and brought it up to the room along with a box set of a Nat. Geo. documentary on oceans.  Briefly, Stiles heard the water turn off, and Stiles grabbed the warmest Henley he could find (that even had thumbholes) and another pair of boxers, and knocked on the door to give to Derek.




 Derek was riveted with the ocean documentary; his eyes wouldn’t leave it, even though now and then he dozed through the episodes. Stiles though, he was watching Derek.

 His face was pressed to Stiles’ middle and like when they slept, his arms were wrapped around his waist too. Though his hand that laid on his stomach had began to rub against the skin that showed from where the bottom of his shirt had ridden up.

 His own hand was tracing Derek’s tattoo through his shirt where Stiles just knew it was, and alternated between that and scratching through the hair on the back of Derek’s neck. It was very comfortable and lethargic for both of them.

 “Thank you.” Derek rumbled against his stomach. Stiles jolted out of his sleepy haze and looked down at Derek.

 “No problem.” Stiles said.

 “I, um,” Derek licked his lips, “It takes me a long time, usually, to get over my bad days. But...not being alone…”

 “Helps?” Stiles supplied. Derek nodded. “Well, I’m glad I could help you for a change.” They both gave each other small smiles.

 “Now go back to geeking over how deadly different jellyfish can be.” Stiles said. Derek rolled his eyes a little but turned back to the screen.

 Halfway through learning about the box jellyfish, Derek not-so-subtly moved his hand so he could link their fingers together. Stiles adjusted his own hand so it was more comfortable and gave Derek’s a squeeze. He swiped his thumb back and forth over Derek’s knuckles, and they didn’t let go.