"I hate you…."
"You said carry you," Derek seemed to shrug with his nonchalant voice which further annoyed the boy whose blood was quickly rushing to his head.
"I meant the other way."
"There’s another way to carry dead weight?"
Stiles glared at the small of Derek’s back and kicked his legs in frustration, “Princess style! Carry me like a princess, Derek! A precious princess that you’ve fallen for and want to cherish for the rest of our romantic life together!”
"Princesses don’t throw tantrums, Stiles."
"What films have you been watching? I’m the princess! I can throw whatever I want! I could throw you if I wanted to! I could throw Scott at you. Actually, fetch me my phone servant, your princess wishes to call her guard to remove you from the premises.”
"That’s nice, Stiles," Derek snorted before hiking Stiles’ up further onto his shoulder, jostling the boy so he was hanging lower behind him.
Stiles’ brow rose as he stared at the slightly new and deliciously round sight before him, “Well… at least the view is good.”