[ stiles wishes he was a cop. or - maybe not a cop, but someone useful like a cop. he and his dad talked about him pursuing a career in law enforcement after he graduated which - stiles tries really hard not to think about that often. graduation, which he's... probably going to miss, so that's cool. and his dad, who he does miss. a lot.
anyway. he's not a cop. he's just - a nosy teenager who doesn't know how to leave anything alone.
stiles... misses all of this. this entire message, all of it, because he's talking to the jeweler he dropped a scrap of steel off with earlier, confirming that yes, this is what he was after, this is what he wanted, and yes, he will be paying a little extra under the table since he doesn't have a dom physically with him, and then - he's off. it doesn't come in a box, because that too would cost extra and while he's not strapped for money, he's still conscious of being reasonable with what he does have - so it's handed off to him wrapped in a small square of silky material, which is then tucked into a tiny cloth drawstring bag. stiles puts it in his pocket, steps out of the store and makes for the train.
the cat is still there, but by now stiles has stopped trying to wave it away, mildly distracted and more-than-mildly nervous. it'll probably abandon him by the time he reaches the train, anyway.
it doesn't. it waits by his feet, and when the train pulls up and stiles steps on, it follows him, wandering toward the back of the train first before returning to stiles' feet where he stands, sprawling out on the floor in front of his shoes. stiles huffs a small, vaguely amused laugh, and remembers, finally, to check his phone.
and all of it makes him even more nervous. what is derek even talking about? ]
What? Derek, nothing is going on. But you're starting to make me feel like I should be asking you if something's going on? I mean I thought you were joking About the home-wrecking thing but I mean Were you Trying to tell me something? Like reverse-trying to tell me something?
[ i'm not good at being with people, repeatedly pointing out that stiles' happiness is the most important thing. seemingly out of nowhere. stiles' stomach twists. his mouth feels a little dry, the back of his neck feels a little hot with heat and a thin layer of sweat. the cat at his feet bats lazily at his shoelace. ]
no subject
anyway. he's not a cop. he's just - a nosy teenager who doesn't know how to leave anything alone.
stiles... misses all of this. this entire message, all of it, because he's talking to the jeweler he dropped a scrap of steel off with earlier, confirming that yes, this is what he was after, this is what he wanted, and yes, he will be paying a little extra under the table since he doesn't have a dom physically with him, and then - he's off. it doesn't come in a box, because that too would cost extra and while he's not strapped for money, he's still conscious of being reasonable with what he does have - so it's handed off to him wrapped in a small square of silky material, which is then tucked into a tiny cloth drawstring bag. stiles puts it in his pocket, steps out of the store and makes for the train.
the cat is still there, but by now stiles has stopped trying to wave it away, mildly distracted and more-than-mildly nervous. it'll probably abandon him by the time he reaches the train, anyway.
it doesn't. it waits by his feet, and when the train pulls up and stiles steps on, it follows him, wandering toward the back of the train first before returning to stiles' feet where he stands, sprawling out on the floor in front of his shoes. stiles huffs a small, vaguely amused laugh, and remembers, finally, to check his phone.
and all of it makes him even more nervous. what is derek even talking about? ]
What?
Derek, nothing is going on.
But you're starting to make me feel like I should be asking you if something's going on?
I mean I thought you were joking
About the home-wrecking thing but I mean
Were you
Trying to tell me something?
Like reverse-trying to tell me something?
[ i'm not good at being with people, repeatedly pointing out that stiles' happiness is the most important thing. seemingly out of nowhere. stiles' stomach twists. his mouth feels a little dry, the back of his neck feels a little hot with heat and a thin layer of sweat. the cat at his feet bats lazily at his shoelace. ]