au: Stiles and Derek don't enjoy watching the same shows on TV...
"Don't be such a... Freaking... Sourwolf!" Stiles manages in between heavy breaths.
Derek was currently trying to wrestle the TV remote off of Stiles, who wanted to watch Star Wars as it was playing in a couple of minutes. He had been holding up a pretty good fight against the wolf, Derek had to admit.
"Stiles, we've watched them all so many times!" Derek counters, giving the remote a final yank and freeing it from Stiles' grip with a quick celebratory yelp.
"Derek! Dude! I haven't watched this one in like, two months!" He moans, slumping back against the arm of the couch and folding his arms.
Derek arches an eyebrow. "So you're gonna pull a tantrum on me now?" Derek teases, making Stiles release an exaggerated huff.
"I'm not pulling a tantrum." Stiles insisted, frowning at Derek, his eyebrows making a V shape.
A smirk played at the older male's lips as he watched Stiles scowl in his direction. He turned to the TV and begin scrolling through the channels- which only made Stiles more agitated, making Derek crack a smile.
"Oh, he does smile after all!" Stiles points out sarcastically, forcing Derek's lips to snap back into their usual firm, straight line.
"I wasn't smiling. I was laughing at your complete idiocy." Derek insists, watching Stiles out of his proverbial vision.
"Whatever you say, sourwolf." Stiles smirks, clapping Derek firmly on his broad shoulder.
Derek continued with his search for a show to watch- preferably something Stiles hated, just to be annoying.
"I'm thinking we should just go back to Star Wa— hey! A documentary on wolves!" Stiles suddenly points out, his finger jabbing the air in the direction of the TV screen. Derek scowls and rolls his eyes.
"Stiles, we are not watching that." Derek says, turning to face his spastic little friend.
Stiles smirked and winked. "Come on, you know you want to,"
Derek shook his head again.
"Derekkk! Comeoncomeoncomeon!" Stiles moaned, merging at least five separate words into one long groan.
"Seriously, Stiles? You already know everything there is to know about wolves... You must've read each and every article online and countless books on the supernatural." Derek offers, trying to sway Stiles from his obsession over this documentary.
Stiles simply replied with a pair of golden-amber puppy dog eyes. Deep, swirling orbs of bronze that Derek was finding hard to resist.
"Please, Derek." Stiles said quietly, softer.
Derek shut his eyes, running a hand across the scruff on his face.
"Ugh. Fine. If we must." He finally mutters, selecting the documentary from the TV menu.
Stiles grinned in his direction, and sat back against the couch. Closer to Derek than usual.
"Yes, we really must. Thank you!" Stiles whispered smugly, jabbing a finger at Derek's rising chest.
"I hate you." He grumbles back, performing his infamous eye roll and scowl.
***
It was dinner time now- the documentary was still droning on. Stiles still found it funny that Derek did such human things, like wearing pyjamas and taking baths. Derek also cooked sometimes. He was a good cook, though he'd never use this skill to its full potential, sticking to macaroni and cheese or homemade pizza. This annoyed Stiles, but Derek felt no need to show off his skills further than a few basic dishes. They still taste good, though.
"Stiles, dinner!" Derek calls from the kitchen, where he's perched on a high stool at the counter in front of the two of their plates.
"It's not finished yet!" Stiles groans back, dragging his eyes away from the blaring screen to glance at Derek sadly.
Rolling his eyes, coupled with a scowl, Derek takes the two steaming plates of macaroni, and pads across the wooden floor.
Stiles looks up at him with wide eyes- Derek never let him eat on the couch.
"I swear to God, if you spill a single, tiny morsel of this cheese onto the couch, I will rip—"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. My throat, with your teeth." Stiles mimicked, rolling his eyes at Derek's caution.
Derek grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes. "I'm serious. Don't spill it." He orders.
"Yes, I know. You say that, like, every time we have snacks or drinks. Come on, you really think I'd spill anything? I'm like, Mr Careful." Stiles boasts, taking the plate from Derek's hand.
"Mr Careful?" Derek raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. "Right. Whatever, Stiles." Derek scoffs, his left eye twitching slightly at Stiles annoyingness.
Derek watches as the teenager spoons the first lot of pasta into his mouth. A small dribble of cheese rolls down his chin, making Derek grimace at his table manners.
"Is goo," Stiles says with a thumbs up, his words inaudible as his mouth is full of food. Derek decides to translate it as "it's good", causing him to smirk slightly.
The wolf documentary continues on, the screen flickering brightness around the room, the only source of light available to them after neither of the boys could be bothered to turn on any lights. I don't really concentrate on it much, but every so often Stiles will point something out with a "hey, look!" or a "cool!" or "Awesome, can you do that?!"
"A lone wolf wanders its habitat, in search of a pack..." The television speaks out, panning a film of a wolf padding over some rocks.
Stiles snickers. "Look, it's you." He points to the wolf on the screen.
I shove him gently. "Shut up, I have a pack, thank you very much." I say back, rolling my eyes at him.
Stiles grins cheekily, making me smirk and shake my head.
Finally the wolf documentary ends, and I grab the remote before Stiles thinks about it, holding it up out of his reach.
"Ha! My turn." I grin smugly, pulling the remote close to my chest.
Stiles groans. "Derek, seriously. You waste, like, half an hour just flicking through channels! Giving the remote to me would be much more time efficient. Personally I think it'd benefit us both..." Stiles shrugs.
"Stiles. We are not having this fight again, okay?" I say firmly, raising my eyebrows at him.
He sighs and slumps back against a pillow, his bottom lip sticking out to signify his annoyance.
Suddenly, his hand darts forward, grabbing for the remote from my hand.
And so the fight starts, again.
