“One more.” Derek stops the long fingers from grabbing the bottle of Jack, Stiles whines in response.
“You’ve had enough, Stiles,” Derek says as he takes a sip from his own glass. Stiles furrows his brows, tries to get past his boyfriend’s hand. That wouldn’t even work if he hadn’t been completely shitfaced.
“I’ve h-had just as much aaaas you,” He slurs, getting annoyed. He’s not 16 anymore, he is an adult and if he wants to make stupid decisions, he can.
“Stiles, it doesn’t affect me as it does you.” Secretly, Derek thinks the whole thing is quite hilarious. Skinny little Stiles had told him that he was perfectly capable of keeping up with his much larger boyfriend, completely disregarding the fact that alcohol simply doesn’t affect werewolves as much.
“Yeah yeah, look at you, mister supernatural, that’s cheating, you know.” Derek chuckles, locks his arms around Stiles to prevent him from falling off his chair after saying those words.
“Even if I wasn’t, I’d still kick your ass. I’m taller, broader and just more experienced.” Stiles grins, pressing his index finger into Derek’s chest.
“In more than one way, big guy. Let’s have bathroom sex.” Okay, that was way too loud, and about half the bar is staring at them while Derek smiles apologetically towards the bar tender.
“How about I take you home.” Stiles clings to Derek while he’s being lifted of his chair.
“You can take me anywhere.”
And Derek smiles. Because even though Stiles is pass out drunk -he barely makes it to the car before falling asleep- and even though this happens every time they go out for a drink and Derek has to carry him inside and treat the hangover the next day, he doesn’t mind.
Because he knows that it’s true. He would go anywhere with Stiles.
