siriusstuff

“Choose wisely,” Stiles intoned, holding a pizza menu in one hand, Chinese take-out in the other.

Only momentarily confused, Derek looked up from his book, “Let’s order pizza.”

Stiles made the call then plonked himself alongside Derek, rubbing against him, like a cat.

“Stiles?”

Stiles took away the book and straddled Derek’s lap. Eager kissing and writhing commenced.

When Derek’s mouth was free: “Stiles, this is nice…”

“Without doubt.”

“But, what’s…”

“Pizza’s fattening. So let’s burn up the weight we’ll gain eating it before it gets here.”

“Makes sense,” Derek agreed, whether it did or not.

“We have thirty minutes.”