Hey there! So I've decided to start a collection of song-inspired drabble-ish fics. These are not song-fics, per se, but will rather simply be based loosely around certain songs. Because that makes sense, right? ;)
I'm thinking most of these will probably revolve around Stiles and Derek, as a sort of glimpse into the progression of their relationship, but you never know what songs may be more appropriate for other couples and/or characters. I can't promise which tunes may be a plot-bunny's favorite, but feel free to leave suggestions if you'd like! I've got a few lined up though, so we'll see how this goes.
I will try to not do overly lovey-dovey, because truthfully that makes me kind of sick and I feel like it's not Sterek's way of doing things.
Disclaimer: Stiles and Derek are not mine, I'm just playing with them for a little while. The song does not belong to me, either. Lastly, there is a quote in here from the movie 'Highway', which is also not mine. I seriously only own the word progression. Oh, and the mistakes, those are mine too.
California Gurls - Katy Perry
"Katy Perry is sexist."
Derek's eyes snapped open and he lifted his head from his arms to peer at the younger man. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Katy Perry. She's sexist."
"Yes, Stiles, I heard you. Care to elaborate, or did you want me to guess at whatever it is you're talking about?"
Stiles propped himself up on his elbow, the thin sheet falling across his naked hip, and looked down at the wolf. "'California Gurls' has been stuck in my head all day."
Derek groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. "And?"
"And California boys are just as sexy as California girls. Sexier, even."
The older man was silent for a moment, smirking lightly. "So… you were thinking about sexy girls and boys just now? While I fucked you into the mattress?"
Stiles grinned. "You mean while we were warm, wet and wild?" He sidled closer to the lycanthrope, a small laugh bubbling behind his tongue.
Derek mustered a half-hearted glare before dropping his head back onto his arms. Stiles watched his back rise and fall with dark eyes, reaching over to idly trace the ink between the man's shoulder blades. Derek exhaled contently at the soft touches and rare lack of Stiles' jabber, turning his head to look at his bedmate. The highschooler smiled back, seemingly enjoying the comfortable silence as well. Derek's eyes had barely slipped closed again when—
"Why don't we ever go to the beach?"
Derek growled but didn't answer.
"Because I'd really love to sit under palm trees. You know, drinking a little gin n' juice."
"And the sheriff's son."
"You know what, nevermind."
"I mean, we live on the Golden Coast, and my skin is far from sun-kissed. Seriously. If 'tan' is an island off the coast of Florida, I'm stuck in traffic in Jersey."
Derek resisted the urge to groan again. "Stiles. Please stop."
"Fine. If you won't take me to the beach, we can just stay in my jeep."
Stiles' grin was growing and Derek was sorely tempted to jump out of the window. Instead, he buried his face back into his arms, attempting to focus his hearing far beyond Stiles' bedroom. He could hear the thud of the bass in a passing car, and a neighbor woman talking on the phone. If he really concentrated, he could even hear the near-silent footsteps of a tentative doe in the woods across the neighborhood. Despite his best efforts, however, nothing could have distracted him from Stiles' teeth around his earlobe and the hot breath ghosting across his neck.
"And freak in it."
Stiles rolled onto his back, collapsing in a fit of giggles at his own cleverness, and ignored Derek's level glare.
"Oh, come on," Stiles managed between chuckles and gasps of breath, "not even you can deny how perfect that is!"
It was perfect. Not that Derek would ever admit it. He wasn't really opposed to the idea, as it were.
"And hey, you know who raps on that track?" Stiles continued playfully, lips rising further in glee.
Derek bared his teeth noncommittally, "I swear to God, Stiles, if you make one 'dog' joke—"
The smaller man was laughing again, so hard that Derek wondered if maybe he ought to do something before the boy suffocated.
"My little Snoop Dogg! Ahahahaha!"
Stiles curled over to flick Derek on the nose.
And oh hell no.
Derek's fist was around Stiles' wrist before he had a chance to retract it. He was pleased to see the boy sober immediately in the face of a snarling wolf. "I'm trying really hard to bask in the happy fucking afterglow, here, Stiles."
The lacrosse player eyed him coyly, bringing Derek's fist to his lips. He nipped lightly at the knuckles and smirked.
"It was pretty great, huh?"
Derek rolled his eyes. "Stiles?"
Stiles pouted and bit harder on Derek's knuckle before letting go and rolling over onto his other side. "Fine, asshole. You can melt your own popsicle."
It was silent for a moment before Stiles heard the sheets rustle, felt the body behind him shift closer. He allowed himself a small victory smile.
"You know," Derek breathed, curling his hand around Stiles' hip and pressing an open kiss to the exposed neck, "California boys are definitely sexier."
Um, they are in California, right..? Cause Jackson's license plate had said California in 'Co-Captain', but I'm pretty sure Derek's I.D. in 'Formality' said New York. (P.S.- Derek and Kate? Gag me with a spoon.)
Whatever. As far as I'm concerned, they're in California, and I've yakked on enough.