[ it goes exactly as planned. his seemingly thoughtless play throws derek for a loop and stiles just sits there and watches him quietly, casually dipping his chin down a little to hide his mouth behind the fold of his arms, just in case he's tempted to smile. he needs derek to believe that he's just being careless, and not setting a trap for him. a trap that could very well fall apart if doesn't play the way stiles thinks he will, but stiles feels confident.
stiles stares at his own pawn, at derek's piece that he used to bait this trap like he's just anticipating that derek will move it because that's the obvious play here. but he moves his rook instead, just like stiles thought he would, and he leaves himself wide open. stiles could probably end this game in two moves.
he takes his time. he really plays it up. stiles already knows what he wants to move next, but he lets his eyes wander from piece to piece like he doesn't have a solid plan, rubbing his lips together thoughtfully, his chin still rested on his arms. it's a terrible angle to see the board from.
derek is unusually quiet through all of this, but stiles just assumes he's sweating over his dumb mistake and trying not to draw attention to it or himself, unaware that he's actually drifted away a little in thought. he taps two of his fingers against the top of the table and he sighs, lifting his chin up off of his arm and reaching a hand over the board - only to stop and let it hover, because derek is saying something.
derek says something stiles doesn't expect and stiles takes his eyes away from the board to look at him, his hand still hovering over the pieces. his fingers curl a little, his brows furrow gently and his stomach swoops at the same time that his heart skips a single beat. stiles lips part. he starts to pull his hand back.
he doesn't know what to say. stiles doesn't want to lose derek either, but the reality is that he already has. in his timeline, derek has been gone for months and stiles has spent countless hours late at night, combing through different news outlets for reports of unusual wolf activity or trying, uselessly, to track down any recently-created social media profiles, just - trying to find him in the downtime. stiles doesn't want to think about the possibility of having to let him go again, so he thinks about chess instead.
and then derek is forfeiting and it catches stiles off guard enough that he sits up kind of abruptly, knocking his chest against the edge of the table. he's slightly confused, but he also kind of wants to laugh if this is how derek is going to handle a potential loss. it's not as if derek couldn't come back from his mistake. there are still moves he could make—
oh. okay, no, there are no moves left to make because derek just. sweeps the whole game onto the floor and stiles sits up and throws his hands out and looks at derek like— ]
Dude? Whoa, hey, what the - hell.
[ okay. well. game over then. forfeiture confirmed. stiles huffs a sigh. he drops one hand, scratches over his left eyebrow with his thumb on his other hand. he pauses when derek sits up, when he grabs onto the table, when he leans over it. stiles swallows quietly, instinctively, and slowly lets his fingers fall from the arch of his eyebrow.
okay. okay something is definitely happening here, but stiles isn't sure what. derek just stares at him and it's super intense and he looks kind of pissed off, and then suddenly he's leaning even closer and stiles feels something shift.
tell me what you want from me. whatever it is, you can have it.
stiles stares at derek for a handful of seconds that feel a lot longer than they are. he looks him right in the eyes, and he holds his gaze, and derek may not be shifted at all, but stiles can almost feel the wolf in him, thrumming just beneath the surface.
derek lost. they made a deal and derek lost and there's a power in stiles' hands now that he didn't have before, but he already knows what he wants from derek. he's known since before derek decided to call him a coward for not wanting to tell him.
but he's not a coward. he's not going to be a coward about this.
stiles leans forward slowly. derek is up on his knees, which puts him above stiles, but stiles doesn't make any move to get up from where he's seated on the floor, doesn't try to put himself on the same level as derek. he's okay with looking up at him. stiles leans forward until he's close enough to be considered in derek's space. and he says nothing.
for a solid ten seconds, he just looks derek in the eye and he says nothing. and then he does say something, and his voice is low, too, quiet because he's tilted in close. ]
I want you... [ stiles pauses for another second or two for suspense. really, he's just steeling himself. this isn't a big deal, but rejection still sucks, so he's preparing for the possibility of being laughed at. or, of derek smashing his face into the table. he does look kind of mad. stiles wets his lips, possibly deliberately, possibly in anticipation, and he presses on, tipping himself just the slightest bit closer. ] ... to kiss me.
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stiles stares at his own pawn, at derek's piece that he used to bait this trap like he's just anticipating that derek will move it because that's the obvious play here. but he moves his rook instead, just like stiles thought he would, and he leaves himself wide open. stiles could probably end this game in two moves.
he takes his time. he really plays it up. stiles already knows what he wants to move next, but he lets his eyes wander from piece to piece like he doesn't have a solid plan, rubbing his lips together thoughtfully, his chin still rested on his arms. it's a terrible angle to see the board from.
derek is unusually quiet through all of this, but stiles just assumes he's sweating over his dumb mistake and trying not to draw attention to it or himself, unaware that he's actually drifted away a little in thought. he taps two of his fingers against the top of the table and he sighs, lifting his chin up off of his arm and reaching a hand over the board - only to stop and let it hover, because derek is saying something.
derek says something stiles doesn't expect and stiles takes his eyes away from the board to look at him, his hand still hovering over the pieces. his fingers curl a little, his brows furrow gently and his stomach swoops at the same time that his heart skips a single beat. stiles lips part. he starts to pull his hand back.
he doesn't know what to say. stiles doesn't want to lose derek either, but the reality is that he already has. in his timeline, derek has been gone for months and stiles has spent countless hours late at night, combing through different news outlets for reports of unusual wolf activity or trying, uselessly, to track down any recently-created social media profiles, just - trying to find him in the downtime. stiles doesn't want to think about the possibility of having to let him go again, so he thinks about chess instead.
and then derek is forfeiting and it catches stiles off guard enough that he sits up kind of abruptly, knocking his chest against the edge of the table. he's slightly confused, but he also kind of wants to laugh if this is how derek is going to handle a potential loss. it's not as if derek couldn't come back from his mistake. there are still moves he could make—
oh. okay, no, there are no moves left to make because derek just. sweeps the whole game onto the floor and stiles sits up and throws his hands out and looks at derek like— ]
Dude? Whoa, hey, what the - hell.
[ okay. well. game over then. forfeiture confirmed. stiles huffs a sigh. he drops one hand, scratches over his left eyebrow with his thumb on his other hand. he pauses when derek sits up, when he grabs onto the table, when he leans over it. stiles swallows quietly, instinctively, and slowly lets his fingers fall from the arch of his eyebrow.
okay. okay something is definitely happening here, but stiles isn't sure what. derek just stares at him and it's super intense and he looks kind of pissed off, and then suddenly he's leaning even closer and stiles feels something shift.
tell me what you want from me. whatever it is, you can have it.
stiles stares at derek for a handful of seconds that feel a lot longer than they are. he looks him right in the eyes, and he holds his gaze, and derek may not be shifted at all, but stiles can almost feel the wolf in him, thrumming just beneath the surface.
derek lost. they made a deal and derek lost and there's a power in stiles' hands now that he didn't have before, but he already knows what he wants from derek. he's known since before derek decided to call him a coward for not wanting to tell him.
but he's not a coward. he's not going to be a coward about this.
stiles leans forward slowly. derek is up on his knees, which puts him above stiles, but stiles doesn't make any move to get up from where he's seated on the floor, doesn't try to put himself on the same level as derek. he's okay with looking up at him. stiles leans forward until he's close enough to be considered in derek's space. and he says nothing.
for a solid ten seconds, he just looks derek in the eye and he says nothing. and then he does say something, and his voice is low, too, quiet because he's tilted in close. ]
I want you... [ stiles pauses for another second or two for suspense. really, he's just steeling himself. this isn't a big deal, but rejection still sucks, so he's preparing for the possibility of being laughed at. or, of derek smashing his face into the table. he does look kind of mad. stiles wets his lips, possibly deliberately, possibly in anticipation, and he presses on, tipping himself just the slightest bit closer. ] ... to kiss me.