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Stiles sat on a pillow on the floor and watched TV in silence. Derek had made dinner again, and had tossed the remote at Stiles feet. He'd picked NCIS, cause he loved that show, and Derek didn't seem to mind. He wasn't complaining, at least.

He actually wasn't saying anything - and hadn't since he'd pushed himself off Stiles up in the attic. If Stiles didn't know better, he'd think the Alpha was embarrassed. Stiles tried to see it from the big bad wolf's point of view, but every time he tried, he'd end up laughing - and Derek just knew he was laughing at him.

For Stiles, getting hard at stupid times was part of his daily life. He'd become an expert in placement of backpacks, lacrosse sticks, books and (of course) pillows. He wondered if Derek ever had hormonal teenage urges or if he just went wolf and killed stuff to get it out his system. Hell, it hadn't been the first time some dude had poked him with his pecker (he snorted a bit at the thought, which drew a dangerous look from Derek) - Scott had done it a couple of times and shrugged it off with a laughing 'Sorry dude!'. It just confirmed what Stiles already knew - he was attractive to guys. All guys, not just gay ones (which was awesome). No wonder Danny avoided him - Stiles was a man magnet!

Derek though, didn't really seem to know how to deal with it. He'd been pretty much sulking for hours, in silence, which was on the one thing that Stiles hated more than anything. Silence.

"Do you watch this?" He said, scooping up a fork of carrots and chewing loudly.

"Yes." Derek said, before going back to ignoring him.

"Did you know that the actor that plays younger Gibbs is actually Gibbs Kid?"

Derek didn't even look in his direction.

"I think I'm pretty much DiNozzo." Stiles continued. "I mean, we are both great at movies, good looking and people keep hitting us on the head." He took another bite of the meatloaf Derek had made. "Twins." He said, mouth full. Derek remained silent.

"Scott is... Palmer." He thought aloud, chewing away. "Cause he's always asking stupid questions. Allison is Ziva, cause, you know - the whole deadly killers in the family past thing." Taking another bite he looked up at Derek who's head was pointing directly at the TV, but his eyes kept drifting down to Stiles. "You're obviously Gibbs - on account of the scary showing up thing, the 'leave me alone so I can build boats' and the nasty habit of hitting people on the head."

That made Derek smile, the first time since the whole 'hard on for Stiles' thing, which wasn't exactly the longest sulk Derek had ever been in, but it was driving Stiles insane.

"I'd be Director Vance." He said, but still didn't turn his head.

"Yah, right." Stiles scoffed. "That dude actually has you know - a life." He paused. "You could be McGee..."

"Gibbs is fine." He said, handing his empty plate to Stiles.

After Stiles had washed everything (including the tin, which was baked on) Derek came through and dried what was stacked up on the counter.

"So... are you still pissed at me for painting you like one of my French girls?" Stiles said, leaning against the sink. The water splashes quickly soaked into his shirt, but he didn't mind. Derek stared at him - eyebrows down. "Titanic!" Stiles laughed. "Do you live under a rock - never mind - of course you do." He paused, shrugging. "You didn't miss much - the boat sinks."

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