I mean... you literally just described my personal hell. I hate that.
I guess I'm just... being paranoid. Thought I could try and find more security for the den. I was gonna buy some extra locks for the front door, which I thought would have been a pretty attainable endeavour, given all the BDSM equipment offered in droves to anyone who looks even the most vaguely horny? But. Can't find any that look strong enough.
Did find some rowan trees tucked away in North Park, though. The fact that they're so easily accessible to pretty much anyone is kind of freaking me out.
You could put God what is that thing even called It's like Actually nevermind that's not even a good joke and not important Rowan trees? Like... mountain ash rowan trees?
I'm gonna tell it later I'm just prioritizing Obviously. How many's a cluster? Two? Ten? I mean it's probably fine Don't freak out Wait are you still like Hanging out around them? Because you probably shouldn't do that, that's definitely suspicious.
Get a better count on them. See if there's any evidence that they've been cut. If someone's out there hiding a branch of mountain ash, that's kind of a big deal.
That's a good point. But also. People trim trees all the time? Like I definitely don't want there to be some crazy dude Or dudette I definitely don't want there to be some crazy person stockpiling rowan branches But 1.) how many people actually know about mountain ash + your Situation and 2.) say Duplicity has a landscaping team and they're just trimming off branches to keep a certain aesthetic or prevent overgrowth or whatever it is landscaping teams do? How are you going to tell the difference? 3.) I'll throw mountain ash in anyone's eyes if I have to I'm just saying. Not yours, obviously. You know what I mean. Also I'm coming with you if you go back.
1) How do we know there isn't a hunter here - someone from Beacon Hills who we've never met - who saw the name Derek Hale on the network and decided to start taking precautions? 2) I won't know the difference, but if none of the trees have been touched at all, that'll put my mind at ease? If one tree hidden away at the far back of the grove is missing a branch but none of the others are, that might be reason enough to feel concerned? 3) I don't have a problem with you throwing mountain ash in people's eyes?
I know that going back is a waste of time that won't prove anything one way or another. No matter what "evidence" I find checking these trees out, there's going to be a reasonable explanation behind whatever stands out. Just, you know. Scares me that this specific tree exists here.
Anyway. Did you seriously just message me to say hello? Way to be obsessed with me.
Since when do you give your full name out on the network? Since when do you tell anyone anything about yourself without it feeling like pulling teeth?
Anyway, it's not a waste of time. If it'll put you a little more at ease, then it's not a waste, and if there is something suspicious, then. Well. We'll be a little more aware and watchful. It's a good idea either way.
[ ok, cool, now that he's gotten 'reassuring supportive boyfriend' out of the way: ]
Also I didn't say hello I said "hey". And I asked you what you were doing and where you were Way to not know how to read.
[ as far as he knows, his name isn't out there. closest thing he's put on the network was D-Pain, so. reassuring supportive boyfriend is right. derek feels a little better. ]
Your face can't read. What are you doing? Where are you.
Technically your eyes aren't your face. Are your eyes your face? You idiot? Are your eyes, specifically, your specific face, specifically? Your face can't read. Wait, neither can your eyes. Your brain can read. Your eyes just filter the information to your brain. Your face and your eyes can't read.
[ ... ]
Doesn't sound suspicious. Where? I'll come meet you.
If I punch your lights out can you still read? No. In this hypothetical your lights are your eyes specifically. So you need your eyes to read. Printed words, before you get all annoying and blah blah well what about blind people and braille? Shut up.
I thought you were going home? Just go home. Why does walking around have to be suspicious? I have legs, I mostly use them for walking. It's a thing.
Whatever. Your eyes are a bridge taking you from Point A (the written word) to Point B (understanding the written word). Your eyes aren't reading. Your brain is making sense of the squiggles and shapes your eyes are looking at. I'm right. You're wrong. Shut up.
Anyway. Wow. Okay. Definitely doesn't sound like you're hooking up with someone right now.
[ look. derek is absolutely right. stiles knows derek is absolutely right, but he's absolutely not about to admit it. just like he's not about to admit that derek speaking intelligently is maybe a little bit of a turn-on. whatever ]
Really? You think I'm hooking up. You think I'm texting you in the middle of a hook-up. I'm flattered you think I'd have that much hand-eye coordination in the middle of getting boned and/or boning, but I'm offended you think I'd hook up with someone so boring that I can have a fully legible conversation with you like it's nothing Or that I'd hook up with anyone at all? Wow.
[ well it's obvious now, when derek does shit like refer to himself as the other woman. stiles is nervous, okay. and when he's nervous, he sometimes gets a little stupid. also derek is an idiot and stiles hates him so much. ]
The Den was all a ruse. I thought if I bought you a house you'd believe you weren't a sidepiece.
[ nevermind that the den is technically being rented and stiles only paid the first couple months rent. also, he - doesn't really like joking about this. ]
Are you going back out I mean before tonight. Do you have plans
[ derek is so close to saying "would've worked better if you put a ring on it", or something stupid like that, but. he gets distracted by the question. ]
I don't have to go. It can wait. Are you sure nothing's going on? You're starting to freak me out.
No. We can go or You can go if you don't want me to come I don't have to come with you I just like invited myself but it's cool Everything's fine, I swear I just need like One minute of your time later You know Whenever
I'd like you to be there. You have a better eye than me. You're smarter than me. You'd see things I wouldn't.
[ he - hesitates. stops walking. he stands in the street, looking down at his phone, feeling kind of sick. he doesn't really think stiles is-- you know, doing anything bad, but more and more this is starting to feel like a breakup in the works. "don't come on my walk with me", "we need to talk". feels like stiles is... leading into saying he still wants to be his friend, still wants to investigate into things with him, but might not want to-- date? anymore.
or something. which doesn't make sense, because the last time he checked, they were both very much in love. maybe the full moon was too much? maybe being his anchor as well as his boyfriend is too much pressure. maybe stiles just wanted to have a nice, normal relationship and derek made it too heavy too fast. maybe he doesn't want to break up, maybe he just.
wants space. or...
he-- wow, he feels kind of dizzy. that's stupid. he's jumping to conclusions, making problems that aren't there. being paranoid, like he is with the mountain ash. he's always fucking paranoid, he's being stupid, he knows they're in love, he knows they're fine. he knows. why the fuck does it matter if stiles doesn't want to walk with him? people don't want to go on walks together sometimes. derek's in the road, doesn't even realize it until a car's honking at him to move. he stares down at his phone. stands in the way on the sidewalk. ]
You literally have better eyes than me. Like semi-scientifically, your eyesight is better. Biologically, that's the word I wanted. Biologically, your eyes are better.
[ stiles checks the time on his phone, realizes it's approaching the time he was told to come back to the jewelers, so he bids his cat-friend adieu outside of submissive housing and starts to trek his way back to the shop.
the cat follows, trilling quietly behind him. stiles stops, turns around completely. shoos it away with a flap of his hand and a half-hearted come on, dude, i'll come back in a day or two. but the cat just bumps up against his leg and then stretched its front paws out, back arched. stiles turns and keeps walking, the cat keeps following, stiles shoos it again, repeats the process twice more by the time his phone buzzes again with another message from derek. stiles stops to answer it, hesitating, his hands feeling a little clammy. ]
It's not I mean actually it kind of is? Important-ish. But it doesn't have to be, like it's Kind of stupid I guess, I don't know.
[ stiles taps his thumb against the side of his phone, taking a deep breath in through his nose as he chews at the inside of his lower lip. he shoves his phone back into his pocket and keeps walking, cat on his heels. the shoddy little jewelry shop isn't that far from the main market, which isn't that far from submissive housing. he can probably make it in under five minutes if he really focuses.
and he does focus. he sends one more text before he steps back inside. ]
I'll be home in like thirty minutes Forty-five tops.
[ in spirit, if not literally. someone clears their throat behind derek, and he turns, seeing some submissive girl bowing her head and looking uncomfortable, like she's ashamed of herself for having to ask a dom to move. he swallows, holds up his hands apologetically and lets her past, and she scuttles down the path like she's ashamed of herself. it makes derek feel like shit, and that makes his paranoia worse, and he can feel himself starting to spiral, so he just - cuts it out. doesn't let himself dwell and worry over fucking nothing like he always does.
stiles tells him he'll be home soon and derek worries over fucking nothing like he always does, but starts heading towards the beach all the same. he keeps his head down and walks pretty fast, turning a corner so he doesn't have to run into that sub again. he taps out a message with his thumb, and he definitely. definitely. doesn't worry over fucking nothing. like he always does. so.
jot that down. ]
If this is important to you, it's important to me. Whatever's going on - I've got your back. I just want you to be happy. So. I mean, I might. Not act like it. At first. Or - ever. But that's just because I'm an asshole. And I'm not good at being with people. I mean, being with people. Like I am with you. If that makes sense. Not that I don't want to be with you. I do. I mean, not that that has any bearing on anything you might want to tell me? Just, yeah. Telling you ahead of time that your happiness is the most important thing to me. Even if I fuck that up.
[ even if he has a tantrum when stiles dumps him, is what he's trying to say. vaguely. so stiles doesn't feel like derek realizes he knows that stiles is about to dump him, which he definitely is. ]
[ 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. ]
[ stiles says nothing. stiles says nothing, and that's horrible, because derek is left alone with all these stupid, horrible thoughts rattling around in his skull - the ones he told himself not to think about. images, unbidden, of stiles telling somebody else that he loves them. weird, passive jealousy over stiles' ex-girlfriend, over the time he spent pining over lydia, which doesn't make any sense, because they're not here, and getting in his head about relationships that aren't real, getting jealous when stiles has expressly told him he's been in love with him for a solid two years, seems like the stupidest, most disrespectful thing he could do.
but. but. what if he hasn't been enough? what if stiles built up all these expectations about the kind of boyfriend derek would be, over those two years, and derek's only been loud and frustrating and-- bad. what if stiles hoped for better than what derek gave him. what if, what if, what if.
what if he stops being a stupid baby and has a fucking shower to cool off. what if that.
derek heads into the bathroom, habitually reaching up to take off his jacket before realizing with an annoyed start that tate fucking stole it from him the last time they talked, and that only makes his bad mood worse. he feels childish and small and idiotic, distracting himself from baseless worries about stiles by thinking about baseless worries about mountain ash. it's weird that there are rowan trees in just - one section of the park, right? they're not sanctioned off, and maybe they're actually in other parts of the park, too, but.
feels like they were put there for him. which is paranoid. they're trees, right? jesus, maybe the full moon is still sticking to his skin. he needs to get over himself.
derek showers, gets dry, changes into something soft and sleepy, a burgundy sweater with sleeves that he pulls completely over his hands and cream-white track pants that are fuzzy as hell on the inside. he walks barefoot to the kitchen, feels a pang of guilt when he sees the milk in the fridge door. he closes it without getting a drink, and his phone vibrates in his pocket. derek reads his message while he heads to the living room, and the whole den just feels... small. they need to buy a tv, just for the background noise. ]
No. Sorry.
[ and - it hits him, suddenly, that he doesn't have to just - hold this shit in. doesn't have to dwell in his own paranoia, doesn't have to beat himself up, making problems worse and worse because he has unexamined anxiety issues. stiles loves him. he knows, deep in his chest, that stiles is in love with him, and that if he just - asks? - all these worries, all these pointless, self-built concerns, will just - go. because stiles is his anchor. stiles wants to be his anchor. he just has to believe him, trust him. he just has to love him back. ]
I kind of got in my head. This'll sound stupid.
I thought maybe you were going to break up with me? But you're not. Doing that. You're just on a walk. And I'm just being paranoid. And you want to talk, but. Not about breaking up with me.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I guess I'm just... being paranoid. Thought I could try and find more security for the den.
I was gonna buy some extra locks for the front door, which I thought would have been a pretty attainable endeavour, given all the BDSM equipment offered in droves to anyone who looks even the most vaguely horny? But.
Can't find any that look strong enough.
Did find some rowan trees tucked away in North Park, though.
The fact that they're so easily accessible to pretty much anyone is kind of freaking me out.
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God what is that thing even called
It's like
Actually nevermind that's not even a good joke and not important
Rowan trees?
Like... mountain ash rowan trees?
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Development.
Mountain ash rowan trees.
There's a whole cluster of them, towards the west edge.
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Obviously.
How many's a cluster?
Two? Ten?
I mean it's probably fine
Don't freak out
Wait are you still like
Hanging out around them?
Because you probably shouldn't do that, that's definitely suspicious.
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There's at least a dozen. I didn't get a good look.
I was going to come back tonight.
[ when nobody would see him. because being in a park at night is way less suspicious than being in a park during the day. ]
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Glare at them until they shrivel up and die?
You idiot.
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If someone's out there hiding a branch of mountain ash, that's kind of a big deal.
Idiot.
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You know what
That's a good point.
But also. People trim trees all the time?
Like I definitely don't want there to be some crazy dude
Or dudette
I definitely don't want there to be some crazy person stockpiling rowan branches
But 1.) how many people actually know about mountain ash + your Situation and 2.) say Duplicity has a landscaping team and they're just trimming off branches to keep a certain aesthetic or prevent overgrowth or whatever it is landscaping teams do? How are you going to tell the difference? 3.) I'll throw mountain ash in anyone's eyes if I have to I'm just saying.
Not yours, obviously.
You know what I mean.
Also I'm coming with you if you go back.
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2) I won't know the difference, but if none of the trees have been touched at all, that'll put my mind at ease? If one tree hidden away at the far back of the grove is missing a branch but none of the others are, that might be reason enough to feel concerned?
3) I don't have a problem with you throwing mountain ash in people's eyes?
I know that going back is a waste of time that won't prove anything one way or another. No matter what "evidence" I find checking these trees out, there's going to be a reasonable explanation behind whatever stands out.
Just, you know.
Scares me that this specific tree exists here.
Anyway.
Did you seriously just message me to say hello?
Way to be obsessed with me.
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Since when do you give your full name out on the network?
Since when do you tell anyone anything about yourself without it feeling like pulling teeth?
Anyway, it's not a waste of time. If it'll put you a little more at ease, then it's not a waste, and if there is something suspicious, then.
Well. We'll be a little more aware and watchful.
It's a good idea either way.
[ ok, cool, now that he's gotten 'reassuring supportive boyfriend' out of the way: ]
Also I didn't say hello I said "hey".
And I asked you what you were doing and where you were
Way to not know how to read.
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[ as far as he knows, his name isn't out there. closest thing he's put on the network was D-Pain, so. reassuring supportive boyfriend is right. derek feels a little better. ]
Your face can't read.
What are you doing? Where are you.
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And they're part of my face
So technically you're wrong but okay.
I'm
Out for a walk
You know, getting that exercise in
Nothing exciting or even remotely interesting.
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Are your eyes your face? You idiot? Are your eyes, specifically, your specific face, specifically?
Your face can't read.
Wait, neither can your eyes. Your brain can read. Your eyes just filter the information to your brain.
Your face and your eyes can't read.
[ ... ]
Doesn't sound suspicious.
Where? I'll come meet you.
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No.
In this hypothetical your lights are your eyes specifically.
So you need your eyes to read.
Printed words, before you get all annoying and blah blah well what about blind people and braille?
Shut up.
I thought you were going home?
Just go home.
Why does walking around have to be suspicious?
I have legs, I mostly use them for walking.
It's a thing.
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[ ... aille. fuck. started typing too soon. ]
Whatever.
Your eyes are a bridge taking you from Point A (the written word) to Point B (understanding the written word). Your eyes aren't reading. Your brain is making sense of the squiggles and shapes your eyes are looking at.
I'm right.
You're wrong.
Shut up.
Anyway. Wow. Okay.
Definitely doesn't sound like you're hooking up with someone right now.
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Really?
You think I'm hooking up.
You think I'm texting you in the middle of a hook-up.
I'm flattered you think I'd have that much hand-eye coordination in the middle of getting boned and/or boning, but I'm offended you think I'd hook up with someone so boring that I can have a fully legible conversation with you like it's nothing
Or that I'd hook up with anyone at all?
Wow.
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Wait.
Am I the other woman? Did you turn me into a homewrecker?
[ he doesn't think stiles is hooking up with anybody. obviously he doesn't fuckin' believe stiles is hooking up with anybody. ]
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The Den was all a ruse.
I thought if I bought you a house you'd believe you weren't a sidepiece.
[ nevermind that the den is technically being rented and stiles only paid the first couple months rent. also, he - doesn't really like joking about this. ]
Are you going back out
I mean before tonight.
Do you have plans
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I don't have to go. It can wait.
Are you sure nothing's going on? You're starting to freak me out.
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You can go if you don't want me to come
I don't have to come with you
I just like invited myself but it's cool
Everything's fine, I swear
I just need like
One minute of your time later
You know
Whenever
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[ he - hesitates. stops walking. he stands in the street, looking down at his phone, feeling kind of sick. he doesn't really think stiles is-- you know, doing anything bad, but more and more this is starting to feel like a breakup in the works. "don't come on my walk with me", "we need to talk". feels like stiles is... leading into saying he still wants to be his friend, still wants to investigate into things with him, but might not want to-- date? anymore.
or something. which doesn't make sense, because the last time he checked, they were both very much in love. maybe the full moon was too much? maybe being his anchor as well as his boyfriend is too much pressure. maybe stiles just wanted to have a nice, normal relationship and derek made it too heavy too fast. maybe he doesn't want to break up, maybe he just.
wants space. or...
he-- wow, he feels kind of dizzy. that's stupid. he's jumping to conclusions, making problems that aren't there. being paranoid, like he is with the mountain ash. he's always fucking paranoid, he's being stupid, he knows they're in love, he knows they're fine. he knows. why the fuck does it matter if stiles doesn't want to walk with him? people don't want to go on walks together sometimes. derek's in the road, doesn't even realize it until a car's honking at him to move. he stares down at his phone. stands in the way on the sidewalk. ]
This sounds kind of important?
no subject
Like semi-scientifically, your eyesight is better.
Biologically, that's the word I wanted.
Biologically, your eyes are better.
[ stiles checks the time on his phone, realizes it's approaching the time he was told to come back to the jewelers, so he bids his cat-friend adieu outside of submissive housing and starts to trek his way back to the shop.
the cat follows, trilling quietly behind him. stiles stops, turns around completely. shoos it away with a flap of his hand and a half-hearted come on, dude, i'll come back in a day or two. but the cat just bumps up against his leg and then stretched its front paws out, back arched. stiles turns and keeps walking, the cat keeps following, stiles shoos it again, repeats the process twice more by the time his phone buzzes again with another message from derek. stiles stops to answer it, hesitating, his hands feeling a little clammy. ]
It's not
I mean actually it kind of is? Important-ish.
But it doesn't have to be, like it's
Kind of stupid I guess, I don't know.
[ stiles taps his thumb against the side of his phone, taking a deep breath in through his nose as he chews at the inside of his lower lip. he shoves his phone back into his pocket and keeps walking, cat on his heels. the shoddy little jewelry shop isn't that far from the main market, which isn't that far from submissive housing. he can probably make it in under five minutes if he really focuses.
and he does focus. he sends one more text before he steps back inside. ]
I'll be home in like thirty minutes
Forty-five tops.
no subject
You're a cop.
[ in spirit, if not literally. someone clears their throat behind derek, and he turns, seeing some submissive girl bowing her head and looking uncomfortable, like she's ashamed of herself for having to ask a dom to move. he swallows, holds up his hands apologetically and lets her past, and she scuttles down the path like she's ashamed of herself. it makes derek feel like shit, and that makes his paranoia worse, and he can feel himself starting to spiral, so he just - cuts it out. doesn't let himself dwell and worry over fucking nothing like he always does.
stiles tells him he'll be home soon and derek worries over fucking nothing like he always does, but starts heading towards the beach all the same. he keeps his head down and walks pretty fast, turning a corner so he doesn't have to run into that sub again. he taps out a message with his thumb, and he definitely. definitely. doesn't worry over fucking nothing. like he always does. so.
jot that down. ]
If this is important to you, it's important to me.
Whatever's going on - I've got your back. I just want you to be happy. So.
I mean, I might. Not act like it. At first. Or - ever.
But that's just because I'm an asshole. And I'm not good at being with people.
I mean, being with people. Like I am with you. If that makes sense.
Not that I don't want to be with you. I do.
I mean, not that that has any bearing on anything you might want to tell me?
Just, yeah. Telling you ahead of time that your happiness is the most important thing to me.
Even if I fuck that up.
[ even if he has a tantrum when stiles dumps him, is what he's trying to say. vaguely. so stiles doesn't feel like derek realizes he knows that stiles is about to dump him, which he definitely is. ]
Anyway. I'm nearly home.
I'll talk to you soon?
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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. ]
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but. but. what if he hasn't been enough? what if stiles built up all these expectations about the kind of boyfriend derek would be, over those two years, and derek's only been loud and frustrating and-- bad. what if stiles hoped for better than what derek gave him. what if, what if, what if.
what if he stops being a stupid baby and has a fucking shower to cool off. what if that.
derek heads into the bathroom, habitually reaching up to take off his jacket before realizing with an annoyed start that tate fucking stole it from him the last time they talked, and that only makes his bad mood worse. he feels childish and small and idiotic, distracting himself from baseless worries about stiles by thinking about baseless worries about mountain ash. it's weird that there are rowan trees in just - one section of the park, right? they're not sanctioned off, and maybe they're actually in other parts of the park, too, but.
feels like they were put there for him. which is paranoid. they're trees, right? jesus, maybe the full moon is still sticking to his skin. he needs to get over himself.
derek showers, gets dry, changes into something soft and sleepy, a burgundy sweater with sleeves that he pulls completely over his hands and cream-white track pants that are fuzzy as hell on the inside. he walks barefoot to the kitchen, feels a pang of guilt when he sees the milk in the fridge door. he closes it without getting a drink, and his phone vibrates in his pocket. derek reads his message while he heads to the living room, and the whole den just feels... small. they need to buy a tv, just for the background noise. ]
No. Sorry.
[ and - it hits him, suddenly, that he doesn't have to just - hold this shit in. doesn't have to dwell in his own paranoia, doesn't have to beat himself up, making problems worse and worse because he has unexamined anxiety issues. stiles loves him. he knows, deep in his chest, that stiles is in love with him, and that if he just - asks? - all these worries, all these pointless, self-built concerns, will just - go. because stiles is his anchor. stiles wants to be his anchor. he just has to believe him, trust him. he just has to love him back. ]
I kind of got in my head.
This'll sound stupid.
I thought maybe you were going to break up with me?
But you're not. Doing that.
You're just on a walk. And I'm just being paranoid. And you want to talk, but.
Not about breaking up with me.
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