[ stiles grabs both ends of his shoe once he's got the laces undone, wiggling it off of his foot and dropping it to the floor with very little care. he eases his leg back down with minimal wincing as his thigh muscles protest any and all movement, and decides to take a minute or so break before he starts on his other shoe. it's not like there's any rush, aside from the fact that he just wants to feel comfortable. which he does, generally speaking - he feels more comforted in the last five minutes than he has in... well, since the last time he saw derek, actually -, but he'd like to get out of his shoes, and eventually, his sweaty clothes.

derek offers him a drink, and there's ice and stiles looks almost awed by the gesture, his eyes flickering from the cool glass in derek's hand up to his face. he presses his lips into a thin line, but the edges of his mouth betray his dumb, pleased little smile. he reaches out, carefully takes the drink from derek so he doesn't spill. and then just sits there with his arm out, cup in his hand, looking a little dumb for a second.

wanted to see you sooner.

stiles' stomach swoops as he connects the dots. derek came from down the hall where the elevator is, and he wasn't coming out of the elevator because the lift had to be like, thirty floors below by the time stiles came bursting out of the stairwell. which means he was waiting by the elevators for stiles to come up, waiting to meet him because he wanted to see him sooner. because he wanted the couple extra seconds of time between the elevator and his apartment.

stiles likes him so much. stiles likes him so much it's stupid. he likes him so much that he loves him, which feel less and less scary to admit to himself every time he thinks about it, but still pretty terrifying when he thinks about what would happen if derek ever found out. it's fairly obvious by now that derek likes him at least a little bit - he's called him attractive, he's told him he's missed him - but maybe it's just a purely physical thing.

which is... fine. stiles is cool with purely physical if that's where derek stands. he can pretend he's cool with it, anyway, and do whatever he has to do to keep his feelings in check. that's fine. he's good at that, mostly.

stiles wets his lips and draws his arm back in, lifting his hand to press the cold glass to his cheek. it feels nice on his heated skin. he lets his eyes close for a moment, lets a soft, contented hum escape him, and then opens his eyes again. stiles takes a long sip of soda, knocking back about half the glass while simultaneously toeing his other shoe off by stepping on the heel of it with his other foot. he tilts his glass back down, the ice inside clinking quietly as it floats around. he crunches down on a smaller piece. why did you take the stairs?

for a moment, stiles just keeps chewing his piece of ice, rolling the smaller bits on his tongue as they melt away. he looks directly at derek, and his heartbeat quickens only slightly. the corner of his mouth lifts faintly, hinting at a smirk. ]

Because I've been thinking about your shower for the last three hours.

[ he shrugs just as casually as derek had, then brings his glass to his mouth again, pausing long enough to add: ]

But also because I'm impatient and I didn't want to waste thirty minutes standing in an elevator when I could spend thirty more minutes here. With you. [ he shrugs again, averting his eyes now that he's gotten that out, and speaks directly into his glass. it makes his voice sound a little echo-y. ] I have legs, so. Or - I did when I started. I'm not so sure anymore.

[ and then he chugs the rest of his soda, tilting his head back to get the ice at the bottom of the cup. ]