[ stiles wants to argue. he wants to push back so badly when derek tells him he can't just command him to do something - but stiles has a little more of a grasp on what's going on here now, and as much as he would like to dish it back out to derek, he knows that adding fuel to this fire isn't going to help anything. derek is also - right, though. stiles doesn't have any authority to tell derek what to do, just as derek has no authority over stiles, either.
he just wants him to relax. honestly, that's what stiles is trying to go for here without saying as much. telling derek to relax earlier did absolutely nothing - though stiles isn't surprised, because telling someone to relax when they're angry has worked zero times in the history of ever, but in stiles' defense, he hadn't realized yet just how angry derek actually was.
stiles is half tempted to shove derek over, though. by the time he gets the movie going and derek's seated, he's spread himself out enough that stiles only really has the corner of the couch to himself, and even then, it's like - half of the corner. stiles pulls one of his legs up and - hugs his knee. makes himself a little smaller just so it feels like he has more room, and watches the opening credits start to roll.
his plan of getting derek to relax and focus on something else backfires almost immediately. derek starts to bounce his leg, he rubs at his face - he's just this massive ball of tense energy and stiles picks up on it fast. it's making him anxious, the more derek shifts and fidgets, but - he's gotta give it time. derek will settle eventually. he hopes. stiles presses his teeth together, not entirely on purpose, his building anxiety needing somewhere to go, and he tries to focus on this movie he hasn't seen in years.
he picks at the hem of his pants to try and expel of the nervous energy filling him up, twisting his fingers at the bottom of his chinos and squeezing the shin of his bent leg. derek makes a quiet sound beside him, and stiles doesn't ignore him, but he doesn't acknowledge him either, hoping that if he doesn't do or say anything that derek could twist into something negative, then he'll eventually settle down.
derek takes his hand instead, and for a moment, stiles feels - relief. he feels derek's fingers on his wrist and he lets derek push his fingers into his palm and spread them out, curl them around his hand and squeeze. foolishly, stiles thinks derek's doing it for two reasons: to help soothe himself, but also to try and ease stiles' own anxiety. but then derek yanks his hand out of stiles' after only a few seconds, like touching stiles is the last thing he wants to do.
stiles' anxiety spikes sharply and quickly enough that for a second he kind of feels like he could vomit. he curls his hand into a fist and quietly pulls it back into his own little corner of space and he closes his eyes and takes a breath to try and pull himself together.
his patience lasts about two more minutes, and then derek speaks up. stiles is biting at his thumb nail by then, and he pauses with his thumb on his lower lip, just staring at his computer screen as babe babbles away. he sighs, but then derek pulls the werewolf card again, as if stiles could ever or would ever want to forget what he is.
stiles darts his hand out, slapping his fingers against the space bar a little too hard to pause the movie, sliding his leg down off the couch. he flexes his fingers slowly, and then decides to - get up. the little corner of the couch feels slightly claustrophobic the more he continues to sit there anyway. ]
Okay, look. [ he puts some distance between himself and derek by pacing away, shaking one of his hands out by his side to get rid of some anxiety build-up, but he circles back pretty quickly. ] Get out of the house. You're - squirming around like this place is too small for you, and you're—
[ acting like an asshole, which is true, but also sort of unfair to throw at derek when stiles is pretty sure he knows why all of this is happening. he loafs his hands, his shoulders tense, and then he throws one of his hands toward the balcony door, indicating - outside. ]
Just - go outside and run your little werewolf ass around in the woods until you burn this out of you.
no subject
he just wants him to relax. honestly, that's what stiles is trying to go for here without saying as much. telling derek to relax earlier did absolutely nothing - though stiles isn't surprised, because telling someone to relax when they're angry has worked zero times in the history of ever, but in stiles' defense, he hadn't realized yet just how angry derek actually was.
stiles is half tempted to shove derek over, though. by the time he gets the movie going and derek's seated, he's spread himself out enough that stiles only really has the corner of the couch to himself, and even then, it's like - half of the corner. stiles pulls one of his legs up and - hugs his knee. makes himself a little smaller just so it feels like he has more room, and watches the opening credits start to roll.
his plan of getting derek to relax and focus on something else backfires almost immediately. derek starts to bounce his leg, he rubs at his face - he's just this massive ball of tense energy and stiles picks up on it fast. it's making him anxious, the more derek shifts and fidgets, but - he's gotta give it time. derek will settle eventually. he hopes. stiles presses his teeth together, not entirely on purpose, his building anxiety needing somewhere to go, and he tries to focus on this movie he hasn't seen in years.
he picks at the hem of his pants to try and expel of the nervous energy filling him up, twisting his fingers at the bottom of his chinos and squeezing the shin of his bent leg. derek makes a quiet sound beside him, and stiles doesn't ignore him, but he doesn't acknowledge him either, hoping that if he doesn't do or say anything that derek could twist into something negative, then he'll eventually settle down.
derek takes his hand instead, and for a moment, stiles feels - relief. he feels derek's fingers on his wrist and he lets derek push his fingers into his palm and spread them out, curl them around his hand and squeeze. foolishly, stiles thinks derek's doing it for two reasons: to help soothe himself, but also to try and ease stiles' own anxiety. but then derek yanks his hand out of stiles' after only a few seconds, like touching stiles is the last thing he wants to do.
stiles' anxiety spikes sharply and quickly enough that for a second he kind of feels like he could vomit. he curls his hand into a fist and quietly pulls it back into his own little corner of space and he closes his eyes and takes a breath to try and pull himself together.
his patience lasts about two more minutes, and then derek speaks up. stiles is biting at his thumb nail by then, and he pauses with his thumb on his lower lip, just staring at his computer screen as babe babbles away. he sighs, but then derek pulls the werewolf card again, as if stiles could ever or would ever want to forget what he is.
stiles darts his hand out, slapping his fingers against the space bar a little too hard to pause the movie, sliding his leg down off the couch. he flexes his fingers slowly, and then decides to - get up. the little corner of the couch feels slightly claustrophobic the more he continues to sit there anyway. ]
Okay, look. [ he puts some distance between himself and derek by pacing away, shaking one of his hands out by his side to get rid of some anxiety build-up, but he circles back pretty quickly. ] Get out of the house. You're - squirming around like this place is too small for you, and you're—
[ acting like an asshole, which is true, but also sort of unfair to throw at derek when stiles is pretty sure he knows why all of this is happening. he loafs his hands, his shoulders tense, and then he throws one of his hands toward the balcony door, indicating - outside. ]
Just - go outside and run your little werewolf ass around in the woods until you burn this out of you.