So I was scrolling through one of my many tags on tumblr. And I saw this post. I wonder if Derek gave back Stiles's t-shirt he borrowed in episode 9 or kept it. Then as a bit of an after thought, said person said, someone please write a fic.

Well, gears started turning. And here we are.
And it started going in a certain direction but then as I was writing something else happened in my brain and I had to hash the idea and run with the new one.

I of course posted it there, because that's where the idea came from but you know, sharing is caring. SO here you guys go.

Onward yeah?


Stiles frowned as he rifled through his shirt drawer, the teen picked up each shirt and then threw it over his shoulder when it wasn't the one he was looking for. By now there was a messy, pile of shirts behind him. He was lifting his orange and blue polo shirt out of the drawer when it hit him. "Derek," he breathed in realization.

The teen turned around and stumbled towards his desk and took hold of his phone. Fingers skillfully running over the screen he swiped them quickly before it landed on the name: Sour Wolf. The brunette licked at his lips, thumb hovering over the name. "No," he breathed, "Derek wouldn't have it."

The electronic device was tossed onto his desk, "Why in the hell would he keep your shirt Stiles, this has to be the most ridiculous thing you've ever thought of."

With that said Stiles made his way back towards his drawer, "You just misplaced it," he mumbled to himself as his hands dug in and he continued his search.

It had been hours and Stiles had no such luck in finding his brown shirt. He tore his dresser part and his closet and nothing. And now he was spending the rest of the night stuffing his clothes back into his dresser and his closet because his dad had to come in and assert his authority. Now he was sure, very sure that Derek had his shirt.

Derek let out a content sigh as he grasped the soft cotton material in his hands. It still smelled of Stiles and he absolutely loved it. Yep. And there was no way Stiles was getting this shirt back. The lycan turned over from his spot on his bed, head buried in the shirt his eyes drifted shut. Just as he closed them he was jolted awake. He growled as he reached for his phone, he glared at the screen. "Stiles," he barked, "you better have a good reason as to why you are calling me!"

"Do you have my shirt?"

Derek took in a sharp breath, "What shirt?" he growled, thanking to the highest power that Stiles wasn't a werewolf.

Stiles sighed, "You know, my shirt, the one that you borrowed when I made you strip in front of Danny and I?"

"No," Derek frowned, "Why would I keep your shirt?"

"Well I don't know, it's just, it's missing."

Derek licked at his lips, his grip tightened around the cotton material, "I don't have it Stiles," he ground out.

"Well…" the teen said, voice trailing off, "thanks…goodbye."

"Bye Stiles," Derek rushed out as he slammed his thumb on the end call button.

Stiles stared at his phone and frowned. "I think, I think you're lying," he breathed.

It had been a week and Stiles had cleaned out his closet, his dresser and done the laundry and the shirt hadn't shown up. He wracked his brain to make sure that maybe he had worn it and had thrown it across his room in a haste to change. But no, he'd remember and he didn't remember wearing it because he had been wearing his plaid shirts and none of them even matched with the missing cotton material. "Derek Hale," he mumbled as he closed his closet door, "I swear on my comic book collection you have it."

"I don't," Derek frowned as he entered the teen's room through the window.

"I'm sure you do."

"I do what?" Derek asked in confusion.

Stiles turned around, eyebrow raised, "My shirt. You have it?"

Derek glared, "I don't!"

Stiles crossed his arms and eyed the werewolf with an amused expression, "Derek," he breathed, "you're wearing it right now."

Derek looked down and cursed himself under his breath. "Oh," he said, "this one," he added, with a hint of, damn I got caught, in the tone of his voice.

"Yes," Stiles frowned, "that one."

"Yeah, well, I kind of forgot that it was yours," Derek tried.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "You know," he said as he approached the alpha, "if you wanted to keep it all you had to do was ask.

"I don't," Derek growled, "I don't want to keep it," he added with a glare.

"Okay, well hand it over," Stiles demanded, tone light, holding amusement as he stuck out his hand.

Derek took a sharp breath, hands twitching at his side. "Well Derek?" Stiles said, eyebrow raised.

The lycan frowned. Well, two can play that game. He crossed his arms, "If I hand it over, what am I wearing out?"

"Oh, I got that covered," Stiles breathed as he backtracked and opened the top drawer of his dresser, "I washed the shirt that you left here."

Well shit. Derek thought. "Oh."

"Yes oh," Stiles clipped, "now, hand my shirt over."

Well now that plan didn't work. Derek was crossing the room with lighting speed and was pinning Stiles to the door. Time for Plan B. Scare Stiles into letting him keep the shirt. "My house!" Stiles barked, "I thought we agreed no badassery in my house! Let alone my room!"

"I'm keeping the shirt," he growled, settling for threatening because there was no way in hell he was going to let Stiles win. And there was no way in hell that he was going to let the teen know that he wanted to keep the shirt because it smelled like him and resulted in him sleeping well at night because Stiles was his mate.

Stiles licked at his lips. "Okay fine," he caved, "you can keep the shirt."

Derek nodded and did a little celebration dance in his head. "Good."

"Just one thing though."

Derek frowned but motioned Stiles to go on with a nod. Stiles reached up and grasped the material with two fists and with surprising strength he turned Derek around and pinned the werewolf to the door. Derek let out a surprise yelp-that he'd deny later-the yelp was soon drowned out by Stiles pressing an open mouth kiss to Derek's lips. The teen moved forward, hips pressing against Derek's, chests rubbing together.

The Alpha let out a groan as he reached up, one hand grasping the back of Derek's neck and the other gripping at Stiles waist. He responded back, teeth and tongue clashed. Stiles hands roamed the lycan's chest as he pulled away, "You might as well let me, what's the word, re-scent it because I'm sure it smells more like you now."

"Wha-wait how the.." Derek stuttered out.

"I don't know, a while ago, I was able to, well, read your thoughts or something along those lines."

"Oh."

Stiles laughed, "You know, you are way out character and it's so damn cute."

Derek growled, eyes flashing blue. "Yeah, you know, I think I'm starting to become immune to your threats," Stiles teased.

"Stiles," Derek ground out.

"Hey," Stiles frowned, "If you want to keep the shirt, I suggest you be nice Mr. Sour Wolf and another thing, you probably won't even hurt me anyways, what with me being your mate and all."

The lycan let out a frustrated whine, "You know what, you can have it back."

"Alright, hand it over."

"No," Derek cried out, "mine."

Stiles grinned, "You're right," he whispered as he leaned up placing a kiss on Derek's lips, "yours."

Derek nodded as he pulled Stiles close, "Mine too," he whispered kissing the brunette's forhead.

"Oh and Derek," Stiles mumbled as he buried his face in Derek's shirt-when in reality it really is his own shirt-placing a kissing on the material.

"Hmm," Derek hummed.

"That is the only one you're allowed to take because I'm not about to walk around naked."

Derek grinned. Idea he said to himself as he eyed the teen's dresser.


So? Yes? No? Maybe? Leave a review please?

I've been in a writing mood. Not so much for updating Little Stilinski Hale and Derek Laws but like little one shot type things. And I'm currently working and posting these stories on a crappy wi-fi connection as I'm on a little mini vacation in Ocean Shores. And good ole Washington weather has had me cooped up in my hotel room since the beach is so damn cold and nothing but rain has been happening here. And I've realized, I've hit a slump and have had little or no inspiration in writing. But since I've gone away from home and like away from what's there and am here, I've just been on good vibrations and well, the ideas and gears in my head are turning. I need to go on this little mini vacations more often.

Just thought I'd share that. Because right now, I'm listening to We Could Happen and am exchanging laughs and weird random stuff with my cousin. Good times.