[ derek starts to leave which stiles takes as a sign that the conversation about the cat is over. he blinks, then snaps his fingers and fingerguns kind of awkwardly because he doesn't know what he's supposed to say or do now. he could... go hang out with the cat. that's probably not a bad idea. make a list of shit he needs to pick up either later or tomorrow, like actual cat food, probably a litter box, although maybe it could be an indoor/outdoor cat? come and go as it pleases?
stiles hasn't really moved from the hallway, staring into the bedroom kind of distantly for all of those fives seconds before derek seems to remember something. he says wait, and stiles snaps his attention to him, blinking with a little bit of confusion written into his features because last he checked five seconds ago, derek was the one wandering off to go do something.
but then derek reminds him that there was an entirely different conversation stiles had been meaning to have with him before all of this cat business took over. a conversation that derek originally thought was leading to a break-up, which is laughable, but stiles doesn't laugh. all of the anxiety and nervousness that had been building up inside him while he was walking home suddenly comes rushing back, flushing through him like a hot wave. his hand moves automatically, spreading over the outside of his pocket, fingers squeezing, but it kind of just looks like he's anxiously gripping at his thigh.
stiles swallows hard. ]
Uh. What?
[ he kind of wishes he'd just adopted a cat instead of - gone out and had a ring made out of a piece of scrap metal salvaged from an old leaf blower from a place that nobody should want to remember. stiles takes his hand off his leg and forms a loose fist, clapping his other hand over the side of it kind of loudly. he laughs, but it's awkward and he knows it. ]
Oh, no, it's - nothing, don't even worry about it.
[ but then he thinks about the conversation they had over text, about what derek wants and what stiles wants and what their future could be, and the ring in his pocket doesn't have to mean - all of that. stiles didn't have it made with any sort of intention other than to just - show derek that he loves him, and that there are parts of their lives here together that are significant to him.
derek once talked about marking stiles as his, so everyone would know he was derek's, and so everyone would know derek was his exclusively. granted, that had been in the middle of some decently-heavy phone sex, but the idea still kind of stuck with stiles after that. derek bought him a ring for his birthday, had it engraved with his jersey number, and he's worn it every day since, like a brand or a mark or a - symbol of how he feels about derek, his importance, even if nobody else knows its significance.
it scares him to think that there's a possibility derek might not see things the same way. even after everything they've talked about, there's still doubt in stiles' mind that a lot of this is just - too good to be happening to him. good things don't really happen to stiles, not since he was a kid. derek's probably the first really, truly good thing that's happened to stiles in a really, really long time, and it terrifies him that he could so easily ruin everything.
stiles blinks. he feels like he's been standing in the hallway for an hour, but it's been less than a minute, hardly even thirty seconds. he swallows again and he makes himself look at derek, pushing his hands into his pockets again. ]
Actually - that's... not true. It's not— it's not nothing.
[ stiles' heart trips up a little as it picks up the pace, but he just takes a slow, deep breath through his nose, opens his mouth - and panics a little. ]
Can I just - get some water first?
[ he drags his hand out of his left pocket, gestures with it somewhere behind derek, starts to move out of the hallway to brush past derek toward the kitchen. ]
no subject
stiles hasn't really moved from the hallway, staring into the bedroom kind of distantly for all of those fives seconds before derek seems to remember something. he says wait, and stiles snaps his attention to him, blinking with a little bit of confusion written into his features because last he checked five seconds ago, derek was the one wandering off to go do something.
but then derek reminds him that there was an entirely different conversation stiles had been meaning to have with him before all of this cat business took over. a conversation that derek originally thought was leading to a break-up, which is laughable, but stiles doesn't laugh. all of the anxiety and nervousness that had been building up inside him while he was walking home suddenly comes rushing back, flushing through him like a hot wave. his hand moves automatically, spreading over the outside of his pocket, fingers squeezing, but it kind of just looks like he's anxiously gripping at his thigh.
stiles swallows hard. ]
Uh. What?
[ he kind of wishes he'd just adopted a cat instead of - gone out and had a ring made out of a piece of scrap metal salvaged from an old leaf blower from a place that nobody should want to remember. stiles takes his hand off his leg and forms a loose fist, clapping his other hand over the side of it kind of loudly. he laughs, but it's awkward and he knows it. ]
Oh, no, it's - nothing, don't even worry about it.
[ but then he thinks about the conversation they had over text, about what derek wants and what stiles wants and what their future could be, and the ring in his pocket doesn't have to mean - all of that. stiles didn't have it made with any sort of intention other than to just - show derek that he loves him, and that there are parts of their lives here together that are significant to him.
derek once talked about marking stiles as his, so everyone would know he was derek's, and so everyone would know derek was his exclusively. granted, that had been in the middle of some decently-heavy phone sex, but the idea still kind of stuck with stiles after that. derek bought him a ring for his birthday, had it engraved with his jersey number, and he's worn it every day since, like a brand or a mark or a - symbol of how he feels about derek, his importance, even if nobody else knows its significance.
it scares him to think that there's a possibility derek might not see things the same way. even after everything they've talked about, there's still doubt in stiles' mind that a lot of this is just - too good to be happening to him. good things don't really happen to stiles, not since he was a kid. derek's probably the first really, truly good thing that's happened to stiles in a really, really long time, and it terrifies him that he could so easily ruin everything.
stiles blinks. he feels like he's been standing in the hallway for an hour, but it's been less than a minute, hardly even thirty seconds. he swallows again and he makes himself look at derek, pushing his hands into his pockets again. ]
Actually - that's... not true. It's not— it's not nothing.
[ stiles' heart trips up a little as it picks up the pace, but he just takes a slow, deep breath through his nose, opens his mouth - and panics a little. ]
Can I just - get some water first?
[ he drags his hand out of his left pocket, gestures with it somewhere behind derek, starts to move out of the hallway to brush past derek toward the kitchen. ]