[ stiles rolls his eyes with so much exaggeration that he actually just rolls his whole entire head on his shoulders, his chest vibrating with a quiet but emphasized groan of annoyance. stiles listens to derek all the time. maybe not as closely back then as he does now, and maybe he was a little bit doubtful of derek when he was sixteen, when they barely knew each other, at least not the way stiles knows derek now.
he has half the mind to point out the flaw in derek's logic, to highlight all the times stiles actually listening to derek would have gotten derek hurt or killed. like how, for instance, if stiles had run when derek told him to, when derek had turned his back to the kanima just to put his hand to stiles's chest and push— if stiles had done what he was told, derek probably wouldn't be alive. not that stiles has any interest in boosting his own ego and making himself sound more important than he actually is, but. he kind of likes derek better when he's breathing.
stiles is tempted to reach for the piece of crust derek is pointing at him with, pluck it from his fingers and eat it just to be a little shit. he almost, almost goes for it when derek looks down, his fingers twitching impulsively, shoulder tightening in anticipation. he curls his fingers into a loose fist instead, tilts his head to bite his folded triangle of bread and sauce and cheese and fruit, and snorts a quiet laugh through his nose when derek... eats off the floor. three second rule indeed. stiles would have given him two extra seconds, probably, before giving him shit.
or maybe not, just because derek keeps wiping his hands on his shirt, which has zero relevance to him eating a piece of ham off the carpet, but stiles still wants to slap a bib on him anyway just to get him to stop. he doesn't actually care about the state of derek's shirt and how much grease he wants to spread everywhere, but derek slapped stiles' napkin missile away, so he's allowed to be just a little bit bitter.
stiles' gaze drops to derek's hand, watching him touch the knight. he immediately starts to try to figure out where derek's going to move it and what each move means for his own pieces, and he only glances up to see if he can work it out just by following the shift of derek's eyes. derek's looking at him, though, which stiles doesn't really expect, so he finds himself just looking back. he finds himself listening intently. he takes another bite of his pizza, the last bit before the crust, and he listens and he feels a quiet plume of affection swoop through his chest just over the softness in derek's tone, the honesty.
stiles presses his lips together, wrinkles his nose a little like it itches when he's actually just trying to bite back a smile, pizza tucked into his cheek so it puffs a little. he chews slowly, eyes flickering down only briefly to watch derek move his knight, and then back up again when derek keeps talking. it's not very like stiles to be quiet for long periods of time unless his life depends on it, but it's so easy to go lengths without speaking when derek is filling that silence with his truths and vulnerabilities.
stiles tosses his crust back into the box. he could probably eat another slice, maybe two, but. pizza might be good in the morning, too. or later. pizza again. whenever.
the twilight zone reference surprises him, but it's the simpsons reference that really tickles him. unexpectedly, his face breaks out with a big, dumb, grin and his eyes crinkle at the corners and he looks vaguely intrigued and more-than-vaguely impressed and. charmed, actually. the star wars reference was one thing. shakespeare. derek just keeps giving stiles these tiny glimpses of more, and stiles is. he loves it. he loves all these seemingly meaningless details, the insight.
stiles' grin softens a little as derek goes on, and he cringes at cum city usa, but by the end of it, stiles just looks... thoughtful. derek looks deflated, but stiles is still attentive, still watching him with curious non-judgmental eyes.
after a moment, he clucks his tongue. ]
Okay, well. First and foremost, [ loaf-hand, just one, ] don't ever try to top Bonertown, like, ever. Bonertown is gold, so you can get out of here with your try-hard [ he squints slightly, wrinkles his nose just barely ] Cum City USA.
[ stiles drops his loaf hand, then reaches out to make a move without any apparent thought, pushing a pawn forward and setting one of derek's pieces up to be captured unless he moves it. which stiles is maybe counting on, not for his next move, but possibly the one after, if things work out the way he wants them to. ]
Secondly... we - human, alpha werewolf [ stiles points to himself, then points to derek, just in case there was any confusion on who is who. also, this is probably the first time he's said the word werewolf out loud since being in the city. boy keeps his secrets and he keeps them well. ] - we were being chased by a freaky lizardy asshole? Like. That's... pretty crazy. Like, I know your life is wild but objectively, that is not a very normal thing that happens every day. To anyone. But it happened.
[ stiles pauses for a moment to take a sip of his soda, leaning back on one of his hands and stretching his legs out in the narrow space under the table. one of his knees pops loudly. he winces a little, then draws his legs back in so his feet aren't all up in derek's space. ]
So... who knows. I might believe you. I mean, don't say Cum City USA to me because sixteen year old me will absolutely, one hundred percent laugh in your face and also probably want to die at the same time, but.
[ he shrugs, sitting forward and setting his can down. he crosses his arms and leans them against the edge of the table, resting his chin on the criss-cross of his forearms. he tilts his head slightly, looking across the table at derek. ]
I'm a lot more open to things than you think. But I mean. I don't think you even need to mention - this place. I think if you just. Start talking to me, and explaining things to me when I get something wrong or I don't understand why you're doing something - without smashing my face into something first, thank you - I don't... think I'd see that as a reason not to trust you.
[ stiles scrunches his nose up again, but this time it is because it itches. he turns his head and tilts his head down for a moment, tucking his nose into the crook of his elbow to itch it because apparently uncrossing his arms and using his hands to scratch it is just way too much effort at the moment. he looks at derek for a couple beats of silence, after. ]
But... if you want to tell me about all of this, and you're not sure I'll believe you, just. Tell me something you wouldn't know if we weren't friends. Something I would know, too.
[ he pops his lips a couple times quietly, trying to come up with something. ]
Tell me about - I don't know, Julius Squeezer. Tell me about how I used to sit in the driveway in my Jeep for hours when I first got it. Tell me about -
no subject
he has half the mind to point out the flaw in derek's logic, to highlight all the times stiles actually listening to derek would have gotten derek hurt or killed. like how, for instance, if stiles had run when derek told him to, when derek had turned his back to the kanima just to put his hand to stiles's chest and push— if stiles had done what he was told, derek probably wouldn't be alive. not that stiles has any interest in boosting his own ego and making himself sound more important than he actually is, but. he kind of likes derek better when he's breathing.
stiles is tempted to reach for the piece of crust derek is pointing at him with, pluck it from his fingers and eat it just to be a little shit. he almost, almost goes for it when derek looks down, his fingers twitching impulsively, shoulder tightening in anticipation. he curls his fingers into a loose fist instead, tilts his head to bite his folded triangle of bread and sauce and cheese and fruit, and snorts a quiet laugh through his nose when derek... eats off the floor. three second rule indeed. stiles would have given him two extra seconds, probably, before giving him shit.
or maybe not, just because derek keeps wiping his hands on his shirt, which has zero relevance to him eating a piece of ham off the carpet, but stiles still wants to slap a bib on him anyway just to get him to stop. he doesn't actually care about the state of derek's shirt and how much grease he wants to spread everywhere, but derek slapped stiles' napkin missile away, so he's allowed to be just a little bit bitter.
stiles' gaze drops to derek's hand, watching him touch the knight. he immediately starts to try to figure out where derek's going to move it and what each move means for his own pieces, and he only glances up to see if he can work it out just by following the shift of derek's eyes. derek's looking at him, though, which stiles doesn't really expect, so he finds himself just looking back. he finds himself listening intently. he takes another bite of his pizza, the last bit before the crust, and he listens and he feels a quiet plume of affection swoop through his chest just over the softness in derek's tone, the honesty.
stiles presses his lips together, wrinkles his nose a little like it itches when he's actually just trying to bite back a smile, pizza tucked into his cheek so it puffs a little. he chews slowly, eyes flickering down only briefly to watch derek move his knight, and then back up again when derek keeps talking. it's not very like stiles to be quiet for long periods of time unless his life depends on it, but it's so easy to go lengths without speaking when derek is filling that silence with his truths and vulnerabilities.
stiles tosses his crust back into the box. he could probably eat another slice, maybe two, but. pizza might be good in the morning, too. or later. pizza again. whenever.
the twilight zone reference surprises him, but it's the simpsons reference that really tickles him. unexpectedly, his face breaks out with a big, dumb, grin and his eyes crinkle at the corners and he looks vaguely intrigued and more-than-vaguely impressed and. charmed, actually. the star wars reference was one thing. shakespeare. derek just keeps giving stiles these tiny glimpses of more, and stiles is. he loves it. he loves all these seemingly meaningless details, the insight.
stiles' grin softens a little as derek goes on, and he cringes at cum city usa, but by the end of it, stiles just looks... thoughtful. derek looks deflated, but stiles is still attentive, still watching him with curious non-judgmental eyes.
after a moment, he clucks his tongue. ]
Okay, well. First and foremost, [ loaf-hand, just one, ] don't ever try to top Bonertown, like, ever. Bonertown is gold, so you can get out of here with your try-hard [ he squints slightly, wrinkles his nose just barely ] Cum City USA.
[ stiles drops his loaf hand, then reaches out to make a move without any apparent thought, pushing a pawn forward and setting one of derek's pieces up to be captured unless he moves it. which stiles is maybe counting on, not for his next move, but possibly the one after, if things work out the way he wants them to. ]
Secondly... we - human, alpha werewolf [ stiles points to himself, then points to derek, just in case there was any confusion on who is who. also, this is probably the first time he's said the word werewolf out loud since being in the city. boy keeps his secrets and he keeps them well. ] - we were being chased by a freaky lizardy asshole? Like. That's... pretty crazy. Like, I know your life is wild but objectively, that is not a very normal thing that happens every day. To anyone. But it happened.
[ stiles pauses for a moment to take a sip of his soda, leaning back on one of his hands and stretching his legs out in the narrow space under the table. one of his knees pops loudly. he winces a little, then draws his legs back in so his feet aren't all up in derek's space. ]
So... who knows. I might believe you. I mean, don't say Cum City USA to me because sixteen year old me will absolutely, one hundred percent laugh in your face and also probably want to die at the same time, but.
[ he shrugs, sitting forward and setting his can down. he crosses his arms and leans them against the edge of the table, resting his chin on the criss-cross of his forearms. he tilts his head slightly, looking across the table at derek. ]
I'm a lot more open to things than you think. But I mean. I don't think you even need to mention - this place. I think if you just. Start talking to me, and explaining things to me when I get something wrong or I don't understand why you're doing something - without smashing my face into something first, thank you - I don't... think I'd see that as a reason not to trust you.
[ stiles scrunches his nose up again, but this time it is because it itches. he turns his head and tilts his head down for a moment, tucking his nose into the crook of his elbow to itch it because apparently uncrossing his arms and using his hands to scratch it is just way too much effort at the moment. he looks at derek for a couple beats of silence, after. ]
But... if you want to tell me about all of this, and you're not sure I'll believe you, just. Tell me something you wouldn't know if we weren't friends. Something I would know, too.
[ he pops his lips a couple times quietly, trying to come up with something. ]
Tell me about - I don't know, Julius Squeezer. Tell me about how I used to sit in the driveway in my Jeep for hours when I first got it. Tell me about -
[ stiles wets his lips. ]
Tell me about the station.