Stiles was furious, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and frustration. "Why do you have to be such a damn dick all the time?" he snapped, jabbing a finger into Derek's chest.
Derek's jaw tightened, and he caught Stiles' wrist in a firm grip, not allowing him to pull it away. "And why do you always have to run your mouth?" he retorted, his voice rough and low.
"Oh, really?" Stiles snorted, leaning in closer. "Maybe if you weren't such a grumpy sour-wolf all the time, I wouldn't"
*Derek's nostrils flared as he leaned in as well, their faces only a few inches apart now.*
"You're so goddamn annoying," he growled, his grip on Stiles' wrist tightening just a touch.
*Stiles, despite the anger, couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest. Damnit, why did Derek have to be so attractive even when he was being a jerk?*
*Derek seemed to notice Stiles' reaction, a flicker of understanding passing over his face. But then he clenched his jaw, as if trying to reign in his own emotions.*
"Stop looking at me like that," he said firmly, his eyes not leaving Stiles'.
*Stiles, taken aback by the request, tried to scoff, but his voice was uneven.* "Like what?" he managed to say.*
"You know what I'm talking about," Derek replied, his voice taking on a different tone now.
*He leaned in even closer, the space between them feeling like it was closing with each passing second.*
"You look at me like you want something," he said quietly, his gaze intense and focused solely on Stiles.*
"You know what I'm talking about," Derek replied, his voice taking on a different tone now.
*He leaned in even closer, the space between them feeling like it was closing with each passing second.*
"You look at me like you want something," he said quietly, his gaze intense and focused solely on Stiles.*
*Stiles swallowed hard, the air between them crackling with tension. He tried to push away the feeling that was blossoming in his chest, the fluttering of his heart, the heat spreading through his body.*
*But Derek was so damn close, and he could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes, his scent surrounding him and making it harder to think clearly.*
*He wanted to protest, to deny it, but the words got stuck in his throat.*