derek isn’t sure how many glasses of scotch stiles has downed yet, but he vaguely wishes that he could get drunk as well. especially because it seems the more alcohol he takes in, the more prone stiles is at trying to get naked.

his button up is long gone with his belt, sitting there in his uniform pants and undershirt that looks about a size too small, stretched across his shoulders as he knocks back another glass. “i swear, if i had known that being a cop came with so much damn paperwork, i would’ve done something else.”

derek finds that hard to believe cause stiles’s dad was the sheriff, but he doesn’t mention it, just makes another attempt at retrieving the bottle from stiles’s grasp. all that he achieves is causing stiles to topple over out of his chair.

he finds himself jumping out of the chair and going to the younger male without even thinking about it, pulling him up off the floor, “you alright?”

“jus’peachy,” stiles murmurs, voice slurring a little as he slumps into derek, bottle forgotten on the floor as he clings to the werewolf.

derek huffs, holding stiles up and starting for the stairs. if he had thought that stiles was impossible as a teenager, he was clearly not prepared for him as an adult. the younger man’s like an octopus, trying to wrap himself completely around derek and almost completely refusing to be any help in getting himself up the stairs.

it’s only because of derek’s superhuman strength that they make it up the stairs without falling. from there it’s getting him into his bedroom and onto the bed without ending up in the bed himself. derek briefly considers helping stiles out of his clothes because he can’t see them being comfortable to sleep in.

he’s already decided that that’s probably not his best idea when he gets hit in the face by stiles’s undershirt, which he lets fall to the floor in time to see stiles trying to squirm his way out of his pants. derek leaves before he decides to do something he’ll regret.