[ well, the cat's not jumping on him and trying to claw his eyes out, so honestly, as far as his experiences with animals go - this one barely scratches bottom 15. derek's still too at peace with himself and with stiles to really do much more than bristle, but the ugly, horrible thing stands there like a stunned mullet, and it's really starting to creep him out. he sighs through his nose, lifts his hand to massage a kink in his jaw, and the cat startles and jumps like it's expecting derek to take a fucking run at it.
stiles says he wasn't getting a cat, and derek gestures at the terrified little pissball standing a few feet away from him like he's presenting a fucking shamwow. stiles keeps talking, says it followed him home, and derek sighs, because that makes more sense than the alternative. of course stiles would have talked to him. they're supposed to talk to each other about everything. derek's slow to do that sometimes, if only because he's spent years and years and years getting used to keeping things to himself, but stiles is socially adjusted and capable of overcoming his traumas without turning into an incompetent fucking statue, so. of course he would talk to him about a cat.
derek gets hidden behind stiles' legs and stiles takes the thing outside, and derek watches him go. he feels guilty. he feels guilty, and when he watches stiles kneeling down, dropping his voice like he doesn't want to be heard by any keen werewolf ears, and talks to the cat like he's already in love with it - the guilt gets worse.
then stiles is back, creeping through the sliding door and shutting it behind him, and derek takes the time to properly stand, smoothing down his sweater and hitching up his sweats after they start to ride down. stiles is this awkward, bony thing standing in the archway like he doesn't know what to do with himself, and derek's the lumbering, hulking idiot who feels weirdly uncomfortable.
derek looks at stiles. wets his lips. feels tense. and -
very quietly, like he fucking knew he was going to regret saying this, even before the words left his mouth - derek winces, looking at stiles with a resigned grimace. ]
You can't just leave it outside.
[ cats are outside animals. wolves are outside animals. they could definitely just leave it outside, and derek, more than anyone, deeply, concretely understands that it would be completely fucking fine.
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stiles says he wasn't getting a cat, and derek gestures at the terrified little pissball standing a few feet away from him like he's presenting a fucking shamwow. stiles keeps talking, says it followed him home, and derek sighs, because that makes more sense than the alternative. of course stiles would have talked to him. they're supposed to talk to each other about everything. derek's slow to do that sometimes, if only because he's spent years and years and years getting used to keeping things to himself, but stiles is socially adjusted and capable of overcoming his traumas without turning into an incompetent fucking statue, so. of course he would talk to him about a cat.
derek gets hidden behind stiles' legs and stiles takes the thing outside, and derek watches him go. he feels guilty. he feels guilty, and when he watches stiles kneeling down, dropping his voice like he doesn't want to be heard by any keen werewolf ears, and talks to the cat like he's already in love with it - the guilt gets worse.
then stiles is back, creeping through the sliding door and shutting it behind him, and derek takes the time to properly stand, smoothing down his sweater and hitching up his sweats after they start to ride down. stiles is this awkward, bony thing standing in the archway like he doesn't know what to do with himself, and derek's the lumbering, hulking idiot who feels weirdly uncomfortable.
derek looks at stiles. wets his lips. feels tense. and -
very quietly, like he fucking knew he was going to regret saying this, even before the words left his mouth - derek winces, looking at stiles with a resigned grimace. ]
You can't just leave it outside.
[ cats are outside animals. wolves are outside animals. they could definitely just leave it outside, and derek, more than anyone, deeply, concretely understands that it would be completely fucking fine.
but it followed stiles home. ]