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Derek growled impatiently in the back of his throat, his knuckles flexing white against black leather as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. his eyes kept flickering from the digital numbers of the radio clock to the glass pane door of a gas station littered with flyers. Behind the door was Stiles, roaming the aisles of the small gas station store inside searching for one specific thing the teen had been craving all day. It was only after heavy pleading and puppy dog eyes that Derek no sat idle in a deserted parking lot, his AC blasting barely cool air on his scowling face.

Checking the time once again, Derek let out an annoyed huff, switching hands on the steering wheel as he dug his phone from his jacket with the other. Swiping to the right, he quickly sent Stiles a text.

'What the hell is taking so long?'

Derek waited for a response, his eyes trained on the door in front of him. He only looked down once he heard a ding from his phone.

'I can't find the right flavor I want!'

'Then pick something else!' Derek growled, his thumb angrily pressing the keys of the touch screen keyboard. He had to backspace a few times to get the message right, and by the time he pressed sent, another ding sounded off.

'What kind of store doesn't have pop rocks? :('

Derek sighed and killed the engine of his Camaro, yanking the keys from the ignition and shoving them into his jeans as he exited his car. He stomped into the small gas station,receiving a glare from the cashier as he did so. He ignored it, eyes focused on scanning the area for a small, buzz cut teen with a Star Wars t-shirt and plaid pajamas on. It didn't take long to spot him standing by the frozen section of the store and quickly, Derek marched over.

"Stiles," Derek growled out, startling the teen who jumped, dropping a tub of mint chocolate ice cream in the process. Derek deadpanned, raising a brow in silent question.

"Damn it, Derek! You can't just sneak up on someone like that!" Stiles squeaked, bending down to pick up the item and return it to its shelf.

"Really? We've been together for two years and you're still not used to it?" Derek asked and Stiles paused, giving thought to the statement.

"OK, fair point," Stiles said with a nod. He continued his search for a flavor of ice cream, a hand on his hip while the other tapped his chin aiding his thoughts as if Derek wasn't even there. He let out a few small hums, grabbing some tubs to look them over as if pondering to choose them, but instead returning them back. After a few repeats of this, Derek finally gets angered enough to rip a tub of random ice cream from the shelf, grabbing Stiles arm and stomping over to the cashier. Stiles lets out a protest but Derek ignores him as the cashier rings up the item.

"Three dollars and forty-five cents is your total," the man stated, eyeing Derek with caution as the tall man basically sent daggers at him. Derek retrieved his wallet, laying down the cash before grabbing the ice cream and leaving out the store with Stiles in tow, not bothering with the change or receipt.

"Derek!" Stiles yelled as he was pulled towards the black car. "Derek!" Finally, the brooding man lets go, turning towards him with raised brows.

"What?" Derek snapped. Stiles crossed his arms, nodding his head towards the ice cream in Derek's hand. Derek looked down and, as he read the flavor, wanted to chunk the ice cream as far away as he could in pure rage. In his hand was pistachio ice cream. Pistachio. Ice cream.

Stiles broke out in a smirk, taking the ice cream from Derek with a cute shake of his head. He placed a quick kiss to Derek's cheek before swaying his way around the car to the passenger side, mumbling, "Such a silly sour wolf," as he climbed in.

Derek threw his hands up in the air in defeat, digging out his keys and climbing into the car. As he backed out of the gas station parking lot and pulled out onto the road, he gave Stiles a questioning glance, shaking his head as he placed his eyes forward. He would never understand the thing that is Stiles Stilinski.