(x) When a couple of campers decides to set camp in the area, Derek finds himself having to drag Stiles away before he does something rash and stupid and dangerous, like getting noticed by the humans busy littering the lake’s opposite bank. It’s not that he’s fond of Stiles, really. It’s a little hard to be fond of the person responsible for slashing his small and only fishing net, snapping two of his fishing rods all in the space of one night, and generally handing out his live bait like it’s pet treats.
It’s just that Stiles has proven to be almost okay-ish company when he’s not destroying Derek’s equipment. That’s all.
“Let go of me, assface. And you better not be coping a feel!”
“Don’t flatter yourself and. stop. squirming.”