Will you relax? The basketball court isn't going anywhere And neither are the electric fences They'll still be there for you to touch like a dumbass.
[ he's scrambling up off the floor, though, like maybe if he just gets a head start he can beat derek there. for bragging rights or something, who the hell knows. derek can't possibly be there already, right? he's not that quick anymore with that half of him shut down.
stiles doesn't run, but he does walk with purpose, faster than usual, but not at a pace quick enough to draw any unwanted attention. by whatever miracle, he makes it there before derek, maybe only by about thirty seconds, but stiles counts it as a victory even though he never would have beat derek if he were at full capacity.
it's not locked. stiles was never caught yesterday, when he was skipping the latter half of the lunch hour, snooping around while almost everyone else was busy begging for table scraps or passing them off. the building is actual empty, save for a single leaf blower and coiled garden hose, but it still smells of cut grass and gasoline.
stiles is standing outside, chewing on the edge of his thumbnail when derek shows up. he's very slightly paranoid (though when is he not) about having to explain why he's loitering outside of an off-limits building should a guard happen to stumble across him. his hair is still a little damp from the shower he took just a little bit before he texted derek, spiked up a little bit in the front with his fingers, but not stiff with product. he looks tired, like he hasn't slept, because he hasn't.
derek has a fucking rock in his hand, and stiles just furrows his eyebrows at him. ]
What's with the rock? This isn't Battle Royale, you weirdo.
no subject
The basketball court isn't going anywhere
And neither are the electric fences
They'll still be there for you to touch like a dumbass.
[ he's scrambling up off the floor, though, like maybe if he just gets a head start he can beat derek there. for bragging rights or something, who the hell knows. derek can't possibly be there already, right? he's not that quick anymore with that half of him shut down.
stiles doesn't run, but he does walk with purpose, faster than usual, but not at a pace quick enough to draw any unwanted attention. by whatever miracle, he makes it there before derek, maybe only by about thirty seconds, but stiles counts it as a victory even though he never would have beat derek if he were at full capacity.
it's not locked. stiles was never caught yesterday, when he was skipping the latter half of the lunch hour, snooping around while almost everyone else was busy begging for table scraps or passing them off. the building is actual empty, save for a single leaf blower and coiled garden hose, but it still smells of cut grass and gasoline.
stiles is standing outside, chewing on the edge of his thumbnail when derek shows up. he's very slightly paranoid (though when is he not) about having to explain why he's loitering outside of an off-limits building should a guard happen to stumble across him. his hair is still a little damp from the shower he took just a little bit before he texted derek, spiked up a little bit in the front with his fingers, but not stiff with product. he looks tired, like he hasn't slept, because he hasn't.
derek has a fucking rock in his hand, and stiles just furrows his eyebrows at him. ]
What's with the rock? This isn't Battle Royale, you weirdo.