"Ah shit, wait. Get a towel or something." Derek doesn't want to ruin his new couch. He just got that thing. He remains stubborn and unable to be moved until Stiles goes to get a towel and lays it down. He collapses down on top of it with a sigh, letting his head fall back against the back of the sofa. The position shows off his throat and the nasty looking bites littering it, his shoulder, chest, and side.

"Killed a bunch of vampires with Dean," he says, not offering any further explanation. He just needs to rest so he can heal.