It's only the wrong side because you perceive it that way. It's just your perspective, babe.
[ sweats? ]
Hold on a second. I swear if I come back and you've taken over Nothing actually, it's fine I don't care.
[ stiles takes a second to refill his cup, then slowly wanders back across the den, a little slower now that he's concerned about spilling and tripping over random shit in the dark. even though he knows there's no random shit for him to trip over.
he's sipping from his cup when he rounds back into the room, but he bends to set it down on the floor by the side of the bed, hikes knee up like he plans to climb over derek instead of walking around, and then he just - bridges himself over his lap instead, letting his hands slide across the covers so his body sinks down and he's draped over derek's legs on his stomach. ]
[ stiles heads back into the room on tiny, less-than-graceful steps, and derek sort of sees what's coming before it happens. he sighs, stretches out his legs so stiles can rest on him more comfortably, and doesn't complain when he gets pinned down. he just...
he sits up, just a little, and reaches out to stroke his fingers through stiles' hair. long and soft and loving. he's still wearing his ring. he keeps texting with his other hand, just - because it's still too late to talk. too tired for his voice to work. ]
[ stiles' phone buzzes from somewhere by his hands where he left it, but he doesn't grab for it at first. it's not secret by now that he's a sucker for physical affection, and fingers in his hair is - probably one of his favorite things, probably one of the easiest and quickest ways to get him to relax. not that he's not relaxed right now, but he becomes more of a deadweight than he already currently is, cheek pressed to the mattress, eyes closed.
his phone buzzes again. stiles cracks his eyes open and slides his hands around until he finds it, dragging it closer. he smiles sleepily, also replying with one hand. ]
I mean You're okay I guess Even when you think you're right.
Sorry you always have such a hard time sleeping. Wish I could do more for you than just brutally eviscerate you in arguments about the definition of sound.
[ and he thinks stiles is probably too sleepy to fuck, which is, like, option B. even though it's been a new month for, like, three hours. quota's ready to be met again. not that he'll say that. not that he's even thinking it? he's, uh. he's happy to just keep playing with stiles' hair. ]
We've probably burned out two truths and a lie. Truth or dare seems boring. Ask me some weird would you rather questions.
[ stiles would... probably be dtf. it'd be super slow and super lazy though and he still probably wouldn't sleep after, so. maybe not worth it? seems like it'd just lead to someone being frustrated. ]
You giving up =/= you brutally eviscerating me. Anyway it's fine. Nothing new. I'll pass tf out in a bowl of cereal unwillingly later or something.
Truth or dare is only boring because you'd just pick dare every single time. Tell me I'm wrong.
Would you rather be able to reverse one decision you make each day or be able to stop time for ten seconds once a day?
I showed you mercy. I didn't give up. Reverse one decision.
[ he tends to make pretty fucking bad decisions. decisions that often fuck literally everything up. he's gonna make stiles dump him because of a shitty decision, one of these days. hey, would you rather isn't a fun game. ]
I was shaking because I was enraged over how stupid you are. Kinda different.
Also I hate you? If I get up and you say JK Murder in this bed.
[ he huffs, loudly, and pointedly takes derek's hand out of his hair so he can get up to make a fucking sandwich he could have made like two minutes ago when he was in the kitchen the first time, but nooo.
stiles rolls over on derek's legs, his back popping quietly, and then he sits up, hunched over his phone as he texts. ]
You're lucky I don't hate you. Like, so lucky it's disgusting. I just laid down. I was comfortable.
[ but he's getting up. he almost kicks over his water, so that's cool, but it's fine. stiles shuffles back out of the room, dragging his ass back to the kitchen. ]
You were shaking because you were a scared baby boy with a truckload of shit in his diaper. But fine. PB&J.
[ god, the urge to say JK once stiles is out of sight is fucking phenomenal, but he lets him go. he doesn't even want a sandwich, really, but he's in too deep now to admit it. sorta just misses feeling stiles' hair between his fingers. sorta just misses not taking the opportunity to dare him to kiss him, corny as that might've been.
whatever. he is pretty fucking hungry. derek sits up in bed, stretching out his legs, making his knees pop. his ankles. ]
Truth. Seems like you're unhappy with my bravery and penchant for diving into the unknown.
[ stiles isn’t going to give derek the pleasure of him acknowledging his dumbass baby comment - mostly because he’s busy taking out the bread and the peanut butter and the jelly. and a knife. and a napkin, fuck plates. he’s super quiet about it though, a habit formed from years of trying not to wake his dad up in the middle of the night.
he leans to read his phone, laying two slices of bread out, but he takes some time to really thinking about something to ask. he gets one slice of bread covered in a thin layer of peanut butter and half of the other side smeared with jelly before he wipes his fingertips and fumbles with his phone. ]
[ derek stretches his arms over his head, then just - sinks further into the mattress. he's not going to go to sleep again, even though he could - but it's nice to just close his eyes and drift off for a second. his phone vibrates and he slaps around the sheets for it, swiping it unlocked and blearily letting his eyes adjust to stiles' last message.
and... it's... confusing. ]
What? Where did that come from?
[ wait - hold on. that's not a no, and apparently he needs to take an emphatically hard stance here? he's not sure if this is a joke, or... what, so he's not sure what tone he's supposed to bring to this, but he is a little worried about what prompted the question. it's very... specific. ]
[ stiles is momentarily distracted by the cat lazily brushing up against his leg, circling around his other one before it wanders off into the dark again. he briefly considers following after it just to pet it a couple times, but he remembers that he's in the middle of making a sandwich - in the middle of a dare. he pick the knife back up, covers what's left of the bread with jelly, and then carefully lays the peanut butter slice over it, lining up the edges.
his phone vibrates on the counter, the sound of it muffled slightly by the folded up napkin pinned underneath it. stiles slices the sandwich into two rectangles, stacks them on top of each other, then picks up his phone. he blinks, eyebrows pulling together. ]
What? No. God, no. She's like - the equivalent of an aunt. No.
[ he pauses to scratch at his eyebrow with his thumb, then start to put everything away, texting one-handed. ]
Sorry, that was kind of out of nowhere. On my birthday, I was texting her about the possibility of not coming into work and she was asking me all kinds of questions and basically wouldn't let me off the hook unless I told her what I was doing that was so important. So I told her it was my birthday and that someone wanted to take me on a date, but I didn't mention you specifically, just. You know. My boyfriend. She kept trying to pry a name out of me so I finally told her because I just wanted to go out with you already. She asked me why I didn't want to name you, so I told her the truth: I wanted to protect our relationship. Our relationship is just... ours, you know? It's not anyone else's business unless we want it to be.
[ stiles tears off another napkin, turns back to the sandwich on the counter, but decides to get the rest of this out while it's on his mind. ]
She said she understood, said something about her... boyfriend? Husband? Back home, and how some people like bragging about their relationship but that she preferred not to. So I was like - okay, hold on. I'll brag about you to anyone who will listen, it's honestly a miracle you like me, have you seen me, have you seen you, blah blah blah. And she said something. Hold on.
"I have indeed seen him. With any luck, it won't be reserved to just looking forever."
And I... thought maybe I misunderstood what she meant, but she just kind of brushed me off when I asked. I don't know. I'd just finished telling her how excited I was to go on a date with my boyfriend and how important it is to me to look after what I've got, and she just... basically was like "that's cool, fingers crossed that I get to fuck him soon", like. It came off like such a sure thing? I mean obviously that's not what she said but that's what it felt like and I guess it's been bugging me for a while. Work kinda sucks now.
Anyway, sorry. It's all really stupid. Should have just picked dare, huh? If you want something to drink with this you can just have some of my water.
[ and maybe less than a minute later, he's padding back into the bedroom with both halves of a sandwich in one hand and a napkin in the other. he seems... mostly okay. just exhausted and maybe mildly embarrassed, a tiny bit anxious, but fine in general. he presses the sandwich and the napkins into derek's hands, leans to press a lingering kiss against his forehead, and then climbs over him into bed, dropping his phone against his chest. he picks it up after a second and sends a quick follow-up. ]
I pick dare only if you're not gonna make me get up again. Otherwise, truth.
[ this is - a lot, and derek's... derek has a dozen different feelings about it all and isn't quite sure where to start. surprise takes the lead. weird, defensive anger comes second. predominantly, though - worry. stiles' birthday was a while ago, and if something's been eating at him since then, he feels like kind of an incompetent boyfriend for not fucking figuring it out. he's supposed to... know him. really know him. he's supposed to be better at understanding people. better at understanding the ones he loves, at least. better than he used to be.
derek takes the kiss without really reacting, just batting his eyes up and watching stiles sink into bed. he draws his legs up, lets him in more easily, and just... fidgets with the napkin around his sandwich. if he wasn't all that hungry before, he's certainly not now. he takes a bite all the same. ]
It's not stupid.
[ he's just - sorry he didn't pick this up sooner. the pb&j feels like cardboard in his mouth, but he takes another bite, dusts his fingers off on his shirt. he looks at stiles for a long little while, trying to decide if this is something to... stop talking about over text, but. maybe the distance helps. maybe the distance is why stiles talked to him about this in the first place. ]
Look - realistically - I know that being exclusive is difficult, in a place like this. This city is... forceful, and it's manipulative. Kate was the same. It's. It is what it is. I get it.
[ it's hard. and he hates it. but he - gets it. on some level. sort of. maybe he doesn't. fuck. he just feels like he's trying to be mature and realistic and sensible when he's not entirely sure he's capable of doing that. he types a few messages, erases them. he rolls on his side, so stiles can't see him type. ]
But I'm not... going to just... Sleep around. I don't want to do that. I want us to feel normal. If you... do anything with anyone... I won't hold it against you? I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, either. This city thrives on... on extenuating circumstances, and necessity, and things like that, to get people together. So. I just. No. I'm not going to just... fuck every person who finds me halfway attractive. Rosalind included. But if you end up... trapped in a fucking hotel room with someone, or... or held a gunpoint by another fucking Veracity soldier, or-- or even just... find yourself in a position where you feel like you have to do something with someone... I won't. Hate you. For that. I'll just hate the city.
[ christ this is hard. why the fuck did they play this game. he answers truth by, you know. doubling down on making shit difficult. ]
I know you keep a lot of worries to yourself. Things like this. Maybe things that happened back home. You shoulder shit. It's what you do. But. Is there anything I can do to... make you more comfortable with opening up to me about things that affect you?
[ it's not derek's fault that he hasn't noticed, mostly because there really hasn't been anything to notice. stiles goes to work, where things are fine because he forces them to be, and then he leaves, and before there was a cat in their home there was a cat in the down, and he'd spend an hour after work just kind of - hanging out with it, feeding it while decompressing and letting go of all the bottled up tension and anxiety so he wouldn't bring it home.
it's been bothering him, but he also knows it's stupid, so it - hasn't been bothering him as much as it could if he were less aware. he doesn't think derek is the kind of person to sleep around, he doesn't think derek would do anything to intentionally hurt him. he understands the bullshit ways of this city, the choices people are and aren't given. it was stupid of stiles to ask, and the more he lays here reading through derek's texts, the more embarrassed he feels about the whole thing. god, way to look incredibly insecure.
and now derek thinks he's not comfortable talking to him. so that's great. this is cool. stiles should have just gotten out of bed and moved to the living room and forced himself to watch a movie and just let derek sleep. he sighs, and he turns onto his side to face derek, moving his legs so they touch derek's. the distance does kind of make it easier to just say shit without stumbling over his anxiety, but - he kind of doesn't like the physical distance right now, even if it's minimal. ]
I'm not uncomfortable opening up to you I swear I'm not, I promise I'm not Sometimes I just keep things to myself because I'm aware that whatever's on my mind is stupid. And I'm not saying that so you'll tell me it's not. I know I'm being stupid or paranoid sometimes and there's no point in stressing someone else out over a non-issue. Like this is a non-issue. I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. But all of that, everything you just said - that goes for you, too. I won't be mad at you if you're pushed into something, if you have to I don't know, mess around with someone else because this city is a nightmare. Just maybe don't tell me about it? Which I know is kind of selfish of me to ask I mean if you need to talk about something I want you to come to me, I always want you to come to me no matter what But if it's just to tell me that you did whatever with whoever and you liked it I'd just. Rather not know so I don't spend a million years feeling inadequate or whatever Hey this is really Can we go back Scent vs sCent Actually you should probably go back to sleep I didn't mean to wake you up I should have just written all of this in my journal and put on a movie in the living room
[ stiles sighs and tilts back over onto his back. he pulls his legs up so his knees are slightly bent, decides that's not comfortable and slides his legs back out, and then rolls again so he's on his stomach arms outstretched and his chin tucked between them, phone in his hands. ]
[ stiles is shutting down. he's curling in on himself and hiding and saying things about himself that derek kind of hates reading - saying he's stupid, saying he's selfish, worrying about being inadequate against some hypothetical stranger that could never compare to him. derek's uncomfortably still next to him while he reads, and-- honestly, it takes a long time for him to reply. the light on his phone goes dim before he does. ]
It's not selfish, but - I wouldn't do that. I don't want to know, either.
[ that's not true. he'd want to know. of course he'd want to know. he wants to know if stiles has been with anyone now, because he has to have been, at least once. it's just - he'd get jealous, and he'd get angry, and for all the efforts he's trying to make here, all the attempts at maturity and being reasonable and shit like that, he - isn't. mature. he isn't reasonable. someone would get hurt. he would hurt someone over this.
derek drags his hand down his face. he feels sick, and he can't keep eating, so he just... sets his sandwich down on the floor next to stiles' drink. ]
[ even with the brightness turned down, stiles can tell when derek's phone times out by the way the whole room dims just a little more, just a little darker. it - kind of sucks, that derek doesn't say anything back, and it makes him feel a little ill and a lot uncomfortable, but this also isn't really a conversation he wants to have anymore, so he just let's it go. maybe derek's just doing what he said and going back to sleep, which is good. one of them should get a decent night's sleep.
stiles shifts a little, turning over onto his side away from derek, one arm tucked up underneath his pillow, the other curled loosely against his chest. he hears derek shift around slightly, feels the mattress dip a little when he leans to put his sandwich down, but he just assumes it's derek getting comfortable. he's got his eyes closed, so he doesn't notice the light from derek's phone illuminating the room a bit. his phone vibrates by his hand shortly after, and he opens his eyes and picks it up.
stiles takes a second, types out a couple different replies that he immediately deletes because they're all stupid and pointless and he's just. tired. and exhausted. and yes he wants to sleep but he's been trying to sleep for like - four hours now. every since the both of them first crawled into bed for the night. he just. can't. ]
What I want and what I'm gonna get are two different things. I'm awake. You don't have to be. It's okay, I'm fine.
Edited (i'm dumb & fucked around with keywords without checking the little box so heyyy) 2019-05-01 05:26 (UTC)
[ the room is still and dull and quiet for a little while longer, but stiles' last text changes that. it's okay, i'm fine, he says, and derek very pointedly sits up in bed, rustling the sheets and moving the mattress, shifting back until his back's against the wall. he doesn't say anything, but he makes enough of a show of what he's doing to get his point across - he's not going to sleep. ]
I don't want to sleep without you. I can stay awake.
[ stiles doesn't want to talk about this. about any of this. stiles wants to go back to stupid jokes or pretending to be alone or-- or something, and that's fine, they can do that in time, but derek still has more shit he wants to say. if his thumbs tap over his screen more spiritedly than they should this late at night, it's just because he's anxious. ]
I don't think you're stupid. I don't want you to keep anything to yourself. I don't care how small or paranoid your worries might be. We're a team. I want to support you. Through everything. I'll do better about my little things, too. Bring them up more. Like - Like, I'm still worried you think that I think you're messy. Because of the full moon. I don't. I never thought that. I want you to feel comfortable here. I don't want you to feel like you can't leave your shoes wherever you kick them off. I don't want you to worry about hanging up your towel after you use it. I don't mind.
[ it's a lot of movement and a lot of noise in comparison to the rest of the night so far, but even so, stiles is still tired enough that, without turning over, it takes him way too long to figure out what derek's doing. getting comfortable, he assumes, settling back in to doze off again, but derek's texts say otherwise. stiles furrows his eyebrows a bit at his phone, then slowly turns over onto his back, tilting his head up a little to look at derek for a moment.
he watches him text. if he were a little more awake, he'd probably realize just how creepy it is to just lay there staring up at someone who is literally composing a text message to him as if they aren't a foot apart from each other, but - he's a little bit captivated by the shadows cast over derek's face by the dim light from his phone. he looks sharp and soft at the same time.
stiles chews on his thumbnail, phone in his other hand as he reads. ... and he doesn't say anything at all. instead, he just puts his phoned down and he turns onto his side and he scoots closer to derek until his chest is kind of in derek's lap and his arm is curled around his torso and his cheek is pressed against his ribs.
he just - breathes. closes his eyes and slips his hand up underneath derek's shirt just to feel a little bit closer, and it feels - better. this feels better. it's a while before he untangles himself enough so he can reach for his phone, still draped halfway into derek's lap, texting with one hand. ]
You already apologized. And it wouldn't hurt for me to be a little more organized. You weren't exactly wrong. Anyway. Doesn't matter. I'll try to be more open about Everything I guess. I'm not really used to anyone listening to me and wanting to know what I think as much as you do Things got kind of bad for a little bit back home, not that long before me and Scott showed up here And it's not something I really want to get into right now just because it's super late and it's a lot and it's probably better to talk about it when I'm not exhausted, and less Emotionally vulnerable from lack of sleep But the point more or less is that it kind of messed me up a little when it comes to talking about stuff anymore and sometimes I forget that you weren't part of that I don't know how I forget because I spent so much time kind of wishing that you were But that's not fair to you because you listen to me and you pay attention and you've always done that So I'm gonna try to do better too.
stiles makes him feel better. the anxiety that had been building up in derek's stomach, amassing together and making him feel hollow and outside of himself, eases away with the touch. stiles presses against him and derek just-- sighs, relaxed, like he's easing an ache in his body. he reads through stiles' messages with lightly glassy eyes, and then he just...
he puts his phone down. he locks it, shutting off one of two light sources their bedroom has right now, and he lays down, despite the show he put into sitting up. he rolls towards stiles, manoeuvring as carefully as he can so as not to dislodge the hand resting on his skin beneath his shirt, and he pulls his arm over stiles' side. his eyes are half-shut, and he's just-- staring, softly, at stiles' lips. his nose. parts of stiles he loves. ]
All I want is to be here for you.
[ he's talking, now, voice hoarse from a lack of use. he could clear his throat, help make it stronger, but - he doesn't, because he's worried speaking too loudly or making too much noise will break the ethereal, quiet moment he's already intruding on by speaking. ]
You're... a lot of things to me. I could write a list. Top of it would be - you're the guy I call babe before freaking out for five minutes in a quiet panic, trying to determine whether or not I sounded like a stupid frat boy. I can apologize more than once, if I want to.
[ a pause. ]
I shouldn't be the outlier. People should listen to you. You're beautiful, and you're smart, and your instincts are amazing. You deserve more respect.
[ and... derek takes another pause. his voice stays low. apologetic, almost, even though he's not apologizing. like he just - naturally feels like he's imposing. ]
But I want... to know everything about your life. Everything. The good, the bad. All the things I should have been there for. We don't have to talk now, but... soon.
[ derek puts his phone down without saying anything and again, stiles briefly wonders if this is the end of their conversation. it's late. derek's probably exhausted, and stiles should let him get a little more sleep before the sun comes up and signals the official start of a new day. he puts his own phone down, lets it fall out of his hand kind of carelessly and lets it land wherever. he doesn't need it - the only person he really talks to is derek anyway.
stiles does his best to let derek get comfortable, but he's unwilling to take his hand off of him, letting his fingers slide and ghost over warm skin as derek moves around and settling his palm somewhere near the center of his back once derek's settled down. he's tired but he's not. derek looks sleepy though - soft, and his voice is low and a little bit rough with disuse. stiles listens, his fingers drawing lazy, shapeless patters on either side of derek's spine.
he almost forgot about the babe incident, but as soon as derek brings it up, stiles laughs, breathy and quiet and softly pleased. he sighs as derek presses on, his smile fading only slightly so it's more of a suggestion near the corners of his mouth than an actual, physical thing. derek's tone changes a little, but it's enough to shift stiles' mood a little as well. he sighs again, eyes watching his lips form around his words in the dark.
stiles wants to talk. not right now, but - he wants to tell him about a lot of things. doesn't want to tell him about a lot of things, too, just because he's afraid of what derek might think, how he might feel about him after. but he trusts derek. he trusts derek more than anything. loves him more than anyone he's ever loved.
stiles nods. it's subtle, but it's sure, and he slides his hand a little higher up derek's back, shirt bunching up around his arm. he shifts a little closer, just because he can. ]
Soon. Yeah... okay.
[ he smiles, and it's a little thin, but it's still genuine. carefully, he tilts his head down slightly to bump his nose against the underside of derek's jaw, just breathing there for a moment. and then he laughs, the same way he did before, words a low murmur. ]
I can't believe you called me babe. God. [ stiles tilts his head back just enough so he can look at derek. he doesn't say anything else for a solid five seconds, and then, like he's surprised by himself: ] … Can't believe I'm kind of into it.
[ as stiles shifts closer, derek does the same. he inches forward, sliding his hand over stiles' waist and up the hem of his shirt, just - trying to get as much bare, physical contact as he can. there's still a part of him that worries about getting too close and triggering stiles' insecurity; even after the full moon, he's worried about pushing stiles too far. he's worried about pressuring him to take off his shirt when he's not ready, he's worried about touching parts of stiles' body that he's not entirely confident in.
but he fucking loves stiles. loves him more than anything. he loves him, and he wants to touch him, and he wants stiles to know he's as physically attractive as derek thinks he is. they've done this enough times now that derek doesn't really second guess himself or struggle with how to hold him, but when he slides his hand further and further up beneath stiles' shirt, letting it ride up a few inches in the dark, there is a part of him that wonders if stiles is going to stop him.
he splays his hand flat over stiles' chest, just - touching. stiles nudges against his jaw, laughs a breath against his throat, and derek swallows, adam's apple bobbing in the darkness. he leans forward, kissing the top of stiles' head, and he lets his hand drift down, drift lower, until it's right against his side. ]
Had other ideas, too. Like "sweetheart". Pretty gross, right?
[ he brushes his thumb over stiles' hip, making long, smooth strokes. in the dark, he can't see much of stiles without turning on the big, scary red headlights, but he can adjust pretty quickly. derek shuffles down the bed another few inches so they're closer, more face to face, and he can see stiles' eyelashes, the cute upward peak of his nose. he can see his lips, slightly apart.
derek wants to kiss him. he slips his fingertips down stiles' waistband, leaving his hand against his thigh, and it's - comfortable, more than sexual, like he's just trying to keep his hand warm. it's... just comfortable at first, at least. derek lets his hand sink a little lower. a little closer. ]
C'mon. Keep playing with me.
[ slowly - methodically - derek curls his hand around stiles' cock, letting it rest in his hand. very gently, and very practiced, he starts to jerk him off beneath his clothes, holding eye contact and keeping his voice as absolutely quiet as possible. this quiet, this warmth, this-- obvious attraction, this intense, unshakeable amount of love and pride he feels whenever he looks at stiles-- it reminds derek of the barracks, and he just... ]
Which letter is silent in scent? You didn't take a stance. Like a coward.
[ there is no part of stiles that considers telling derek to stop. as much as he lacks the amount of confidence needed to do something as simple as being in front of someone without his shirt on, stiles is not uncomfortable in the slightest with derek touching him. it's someone else looking at him, being able to see that judgement in another person's eyes that makes him anxious and uneasy and too self-aware to be comfortable.
but he got through it with derek. even if derek was a little... distracted and pre-occupied and overridden by a deeper instinct to really notice all of stiles' flaws, stiles still got through it, and that's - progress. he breathes in deep when derek spreads his hand over his chest, like he just wants to feel him closer, push himself into the touch. he breathes out, letting his eyes close as his hand drifts down his side, stomach tensing only because it tickles a little.
and then he laughs, opening his eyes just so he can shoot derek an exaggerated, faux-disgusted look. ]
Oh, that's disgusting.
[ except it isn't, not really. something he'd have to get used to hearing coming from derek, but he doesn't think he'd hate it if he occasionally tossed out an affectionate pet name every once in a while. stiles lifts his hand just an inch or so when derek starts to move, letting him wriggle and settle before he lays his hand back down against his spine.
and then derek's hand inches lower, dips under the elastic of his waistband, settles against his thigh. stiles waits for a beat, but he just feels... safe. he feels comforted, at first, until derek's hand starts to move again, dipping lower, drifting inward, and stiles still feels safe, he always feels safe, but he also feels the distant pull of mild arousal start to warm him.
stiles sighs, slow and heavy. he swallows, lips parting a little, and if he subtly shifts his legs almost like an invitation before derek even gets his hand on his cock, well - stiles isn't exactly ashamed. he has to swallow again, wetting his bottom lip as his fingers flex gently against derek's lower back. he wants to close his eyes, but derek's looking at him, and he can't make himself look away. ]
Um. Mm. [ stiles' voice is just as quiet, still a little bit hoarse. he doesn't bother to clear his throat. he smiles kind of lazily after a moment, eyes still open, but half-lidded. ] Neither. They both just sound like... like an 'S'. You hear 'em both.
[ sweetheart is pretty disgusting. stiles laughs, acts like he's way more offended by this than he really is, and derek just smiles, the tiniest bit sleepy. words aren't enough to describe how much derek hale fucking loves stiles stilinski.
he's still wearing his ring, bound tight on his left ring finger, cold against stiles' cock but slowly warming up. stiles leans into him and looks at him with those big, bright eyes, and derek steadily gets him harder. his eyes drift over every millimetre of stiles' face, taking him in - somewhere he nicked himself while he was shaving, a loose eyelash, a tinge of color on his cheek that might be there or might not be, it's too dark to tell. he's jerking stiles off softer and lazier and kinder than he ever has before, all sweet and subtle and comfortable. ]
Lame.
[ he could argue. complain about how two S noises would make scent sound more like sssssssssssscent, but it's a pointless tactic that he'd be able to chop the fuck down the second he deployed it. instead, derek's leg moves forward, tangling between stiles' and anchoring him close. securing him to his body, staying entwined.
derek takes his hand back. just for a second. he looks at stiles, maintains eye contact in the dark, then steadily draws his hand up to his own tongue. he licks his palm, gets it wet, smiling almost knowingly as he drops his hand back between stiles' legs and takes hold of him again. he jerks a little faster, now. ]
C'mon. Keep talking. You're at your hottest when you're asking stupid questions. Or - no, wait, fuck, you're at your hottest when you're being a nerd. Tell me how you feel about George Lucas, or something.
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You're on the wrong side of history.
[ read: no idea. ]
No. It's fine. I can pick something up later.
Mostly just want you to come back to bed.
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It's just your perspective, babe.
[ sweats? ]
Hold on a second.
I swear if I come back and you've taken over
Nothing actually, it's fine
I don't care.
[ stiles takes a second to refill his cup, then slowly wanders back across the den, a little slower now that he's concerned about spilling and tripping over random shit in the dark. even though he knows there's no random shit for him to trip over.
he's sipping from his cup when he rounds back into the room, but he bends to set it down on the floor by the side of the bed, hikes knee up like he plans to climb over derek instead of walking around, and then he just - bridges himself over his lap instead, letting his hands slide across the covers so his body sinks down and he's draped over derek's legs on his stomach. ]
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[ stiles heads back into the room on tiny, less-than-graceful steps, and derek sort of sees what's coming before it happens. he sighs, stretches out his legs so stiles can rest on him more comfortably, and doesn't complain when he gets pinned down. he just...
he sits up, just a little, and reaches out to stroke his fingers through stiles' hair. long and soft and loving. he's still wearing his ring. he keeps texting with his other hand, just - because it's still too late to talk. too tired for his voice to work. ]
I like you.
Even when you're wrong.
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his phone buzzes again. stiles cracks his eyes open and slides his hands around until he finds it, dragging it closer. he smiles sleepily, also replying with one hand. ]
I mean
You're okay I guess
Even when you think you're right.
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Sorry you always have such a hard time sleeping.
Wish I could do more for you than just brutally eviscerate you in arguments about the definition of sound.
[ and he thinks stiles is probably too sleepy to fuck, which is, like, option B. even though it's been a new month for, like, three hours. quota's ready to be met again. not that he'll say that. not that he's even thinking it? he's, uh. he's happy to just keep playing with stiles' hair. ]
We've probably burned out two truths and a lie.
Truth or dare seems boring.
Ask me some weird would you rather questions.
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You giving up =/= you brutally eviscerating me.
Anyway it's fine. Nothing new.
I'll pass tf out in a bowl of cereal unwillingly later or something.
Truth or dare is only boring because you'd just pick dare every single time.
Tell me I'm wrong.
Would you rather be able to reverse one decision you make each day or be able to stop time for ten seconds once a day?
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I showed you mercy. I didn't give up.
Reverse one decision.
[ he tends to make pretty fucking bad decisions. decisions that often fuck literally everything up. he's gonna make stiles dump him because of a shitty decision, one of these days. hey, would you rather isn't a fun game. ]
Truth or dare.
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I didn't ask for mercy.
Dare.
Don't make me get up.
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I know when you're afraid.
You were fucking shaking. Incapable of dealing with loss.
Dare you to get up.
Dare you to go make me that PB&J after all.
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Kinda different.
Also I hate you?
If I get up and you say JK
Murder in this bed.
[ he huffs, loudly, and pointedly takes derek's hand out of his hair so he can get up to make a fucking sandwich he could have made like two minutes ago when he was in the kitchen the first time, but nooo.
stiles rolls over on derek's legs, his back popping quietly, and then he sits up, hunched over his phone as he texts. ]
You're lucky I don't hate you.
Like, so lucky it's disgusting.
I just laid down. I was comfortable.
[ but he's getting up. he almost kicks over his water, so that's cool, but it's fine. stiles shuffles back out of the room, dragging his ass back to the kitchen. ]
Truth or dare.
Think long and hard about it.
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But fine.
PB&J.
[ god, the urge to say JK once stiles is out of sight is fucking phenomenal, but he lets him go. he doesn't even want a sandwich, really, but he's in too deep now to admit it. sorta just misses feeling stiles' hair between his fingers. sorta just misses not taking the opportunity to dare him to kiss him, corny as that might've been.
whatever. he is pretty fucking hungry. derek sits up in bed, stretching out his legs, making his knees pop. his ankles. ]
Truth.
Seems like you're unhappy with my bravery and penchant for diving into the unknown.
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he leans to read his phone, laying two slices of bread out, but he takes some time to really thinking about something to ask. he gets one slice of bread covered in a thin layer of peanut butter and half of the other side smeared with jelly before he wipes his fingertips and fumbles with his phone. ]
Would you fuck Rosalind?
[ hey so this is also not a fun game. ]
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and... it's... confusing. ]
What? Where did that come from?
[ wait - hold on. that's not a no, and apparently he needs to take an emphatically hard stance here? he's not sure if this is a joke, or... what, so he's not sure what tone he's supposed to bring to this, but he is a little worried about what prompted the question. it's very... specific. ]
No. No?
Why? Would you?
Have you?
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his phone vibrates on the counter, the sound of it muffled slightly by the folded up napkin pinned underneath it. stiles slices the sandwich into two rectangles, stacks them on top of each other, then picks up his phone. he blinks, eyebrows pulling together. ]
What?
No. God, no.
She's like - the equivalent of an aunt. No.
[ he pauses to scratch at his eyebrow with his thumb, then start to put everything away, texting one-handed. ]
Sorry, that was kind of out of nowhere.
On my birthday, I was texting her about the possibility of not coming into work and she was asking me all kinds of questions and basically wouldn't let me off the hook unless I told her what I was doing that was so important.
So I told her it was my birthday and that someone wanted to take me on a date, but I didn't mention you specifically, just. You know.
My boyfriend.
She kept trying to pry a name out of me so I finally told her because I just wanted to go out with you already. She asked me why I didn't want to name you, so I told her the truth: I wanted to protect our relationship. Our relationship is just... ours, you know? It's not anyone else's business unless we want it to be.
[ stiles tears off another napkin, turns back to the sandwich on the counter, but decides to get the rest of this out while it's on his mind. ]
She said she understood, said something about her... boyfriend? Husband? Back home, and how some people like bragging about their relationship but that she preferred not to. So I was like - okay, hold on. I'll brag about you to anyone who will listen, it's honestly a miracle you like me, have you seen me, have you seen you, blah blah blah. And she said something. Hold on.
"I have indeed seen him. With any luck, it won't be reserved to just looking forever."
And I... thought maybe I misunderstood what she meant, but she just kind of brushed me off when I asked. I don't know. I'd just finished telling her how excited I was to go on a date with my boyfriend and how important it is to me to look after what I've got, and she just... basically was like "that's cool, fingers crossed that I get to fuck him soon", like. It came off like such a sure thing? I mean obviously that's not what she said but that's what it felt like and I guess it's been bugging me for a while. Work kinda sucks now.
Anyway, sorry. It's all really stupid.
Should have just picked dare, huh?
If you want something to drink with this you can just have some of my water.
[ and maybe less than a minute later, he's padding back into the bedroom with both halves of a sandwich in one hand and a napkin in the other. he seems... mostly okay. just exhausted and maybe mildly embarrassed, a tiny bit anxious, but fine in general. he presses the sandwich and the napkins into derek's hands, leans to press a lingering kiss against his forehead, and then climbs over him into bed, dropping his phone against his chest. he picks it up after a second and sends a quick follow-up. ]
I pick dare only if you're not gonna make me get up again.
Otherwise, truth.
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derek takes the kiss without really reacting, just batting his eyes up and watching stiles sink into bed. he draws his legs up, lets him in more easily, and just... fidgets with the napkin around his sandwich. if he wasn't all that hungry before, he's certainly not now. he takes a bite all the same. ]
It's not stupid.
[ he's just - sorry he didn't pick this up sooner. the pb&j feels like cardboard in his mouth, but he takes another bite, dusts his fingers off on his shirt. he looks at stiles for a long little while, trying to decide if this is something to... stop talking about over text, but. maybe the distance helps. maybe the distance is why stiles talked to him about this in the first place. ]
Look - realistically - I know that being exclusive is difficult, in a place like this. This city is... forceful, and it's manipulative. Kate was the same.
It's. It is what it is. I get it.
[ it's hard. and he hates it. but he - gets it. on some level. sort of. maybe he doesn't. fuck. he just feels like he's trying to be mature and realistic and sensible when he's not entirely sure he's capable of doing that. he types a few messages, erases them. he rolls on his side, so stiles can't see him type. ]
But I'm not... going to just...
Sleep around. I don't want to do that. I want us to feel normal.
If you... do anything with anyone... I won't hold it against you? I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, either.
This city thrives on... on extenuating circumstances, and necessity, and things like that, to get people together.
So. I just.
No.
I'm not going to just... fuck every person who finds me halfway attractive. Rosalind included.
But if you end up... trapped in a fucking hotel room with someone, or... or held a gunpoint by another fucking Veracity soldier, or-- or even just... find yourself in a position where you feel like you have to do something with someone...
I won't. Hate you. For that.
I'll just hate the city.
[ christ this is hard. why the fuck did they play this game. he answers truth by, you know. doubling down on making shit difficult. ]
I know you keep a lot of worries to yourself. Things like this. Maybe things that happened back home.
You shoulder shit. It's what you do.
But.
Is there anything I can do to... make you more comfortable with opening up to me about things that affect you?
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it's been bothering him, but he also knows it's stupid, so it - hasn't been bothering him as much as it could if he were less aware. he doesn't think derek is the kind of person to sleep around, he doesn't think derek would do anything to intentionally hurt him. he understands the bullshit ways of this city, the choices people are and aren't given. it was stupid of stiles to ask, and the more he lays here reading through derek's texts, the more embarrassed he feels about the whole thing. god, way to look incredibly insecure.
and now derek thinks he's not comfortable talking to him. so that's great. this is cool. stiles should have just gotten out of bed and moved to the living room and forced himself to watch a movie and just let derek sleep. he sighs, and he turns onto his side to face derek, moving his legs so they touch derek's. the distance does kind of make it easier to just say shit without stumbling over his anxiety, but - he kind of doesn't like the physical distance right now, even if it's minimal. ]
I'm not uncomfortable opening up to you
I swear I'm not, I promise I'm not
Sometimes I just keep things to myself because I'm aware that whatever's on my mind is stupid. And I'm not saying that so you'll tell me it's not. I know I'm being stupid or paranoid sometimes and there's no point in stressing someone else out over a non-issue.
Like this is a non-issue.
I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you.
But all of that, everything you just said - that goes for you, too.
I won't be mad at you if you're pushed into something, if you have to
I don't know, mess around with someone else because this city is a nightmare.
Just maybe don't tell me about it? Which I know is kind of selfish of me to ask
I mean if you need to talk about something I want you to come to me, I always want you to come to me no matter what
But if it's just to tell me that you did whatever with whoever and you liked it
I'd just. Rather not know so I don't spend a million years feeling inadequate or whatever
Hey this is really
Can we go back Scent vs sCent
Actually you should probably go back to sleep
I didn't mean to wake you up
I should have just written all of this in my journal and put on a movie in the living room
[ stiles sighs and tilts back over onto his back. he pulls his legs up so his knees are slightly bent, decides that's not comfortable and slides his legs back out, and then rolls again so he's on his stomach arms outstretched and his chin tucked between them, phone in his hands. ]
Sorry. I love you.
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It's not selfish, but - I wouldn't do that.
I don't want to know, either.
[ that's not true. he'd want to know. of course he'd want to know. he wants to know if stiles has been with anyone now, because he has to have been, at least once. it's just - he'd get jealous, and he'd get angry, and for all the efforts he's trying to make here, all the attempts at maturity and being reasonable and shit like that, he - isn't. mature. he isn't reasonable. someone would get hurt. he would hurt someone over this.
derek drags his hand down his face. he feels sick, and he can't keep eating, so he just... sets his sandwich down on the floor next to stiles' drink. ]
Do you actually want to go to sleep?
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stiles shifts a little, turning over onto his side away from derek, one arm tucked up underneath his pillow, the other curled loosely against his chest. he hears derek shift around slightly, feels the mattress dip a little when he leans to put his sandwich down, but he just assumes it's derek getting comfortable. he's got his eyes closed, so he doesn't notice the light from derek's phone illuminating the room a bit. his phone vibrates by his hand shortly after, and he opens his eyes and picks it up.
stiles takes a second, types out a couple different replies that he immediately deletes because they're all stupid and pointless and he's just. tired. and exhausted. and yes he wants to sleep but he's been trying to sleep for like - four hours now. every since the both of them first crawled into bed for the night. he just. can't. ]
What I want and what I'm gonna get are two different things.
I'm awake.
You don't have to be.
It's okay, I'm fine.
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I don't want to sleep without you.
I can stay awake.
[ stiles doesn't want to talk about this. about any of this. stiles wants to go back to stupid jokes or pretending to be alone or-- or something, and that's fine, they can do that in time, but derek still has more shit he wants to say. if his thumbs tap over his screen more spiritedly than they should this late at night, it's just because he's anxious. ]
I don't think you're stupid.
I don't want you to keep anything to yourself. I don't care how small or paranoid your worries might be.
We're a team. I want to support you. Through everything.
I'll do better about my little things, too. Bring them up more.
Like -
Like, I'm still worried you think that I think you're messy. Because of the full moon.
I don't. I never thought that. I want you to feel comfortable here. I don't want you to feel like you can't leave your shoes wherever you kick them off. I don't want you to worry about hanging up your towel after you use it.
I don't mind.
I love you, too.
I'm sorry.
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he watches him text. if he were a little more awake, he'd probably realize just how creepy it is to just lay there staring up at someone who is literally composing a text message to him as if they aren't a foot apart from each other, but - he's a little bit captivated by the shadows cast over derek's face by the dim light from his phone. he looks sharp and soft at the same time.
stiles chews on his thumbnail, phone in his other hand as he reads. ... and he doesn't say anything at all. instead, he just puts his phoned down and he turns onto his side and he scoots closer to derek until his chest is kind of in derek's lap and his arm is curled around his torso and his cheek is pressed against his ribs.
he just - breathes. closes his eyes and slips his hand up underneath derek's shirt just to feel a little bit closer, and it feels - better. this feels better. it's a while before he untangles himself enough so he can reach for his phone, still draped halfway into derek's lap, texting with one hand. ]
You already apologized.
And it wouldn't hurt for me to be a little more organized. You weren't exactly wrong.
Anyway. Doesn't matter.
I'll try to be more open about
Everything I guess.
I'm not really used to anyone listening to me and wanting to know what I think as much as you do
Things got kind of bad for a little bit back home, not that long before me and Scott showed up here
And it's not something I really want to get into right now just because it's super late and it's a lot and it's probably better to talk about it when I'm not exhausted, and less
Emotionally vulnerable from lack of sleep
But the point more or less is that it kind of messed me up a little when it comes to talking about stuff anymore and sometimes I forget that you weren't part of that
I don't know how I forget because I spent so much time kind of wishing that you were
But that's not fair to you because you listen to me and you pay attention and you've always done that
So I'm gonna try to do better too.
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stiles makes him feel better. the anxiety that had been building up in derek's stomach, amassing together and making him feel hollow and outside of himself, eases away with the touch. stiles presses against him and derek just-- sighs, relaxed, like he's easing an ache in his body. he reads through stiles' messages with lightly glassy eyes, and then he just...
he puts his phone down. he locks it, shutting off one of two light sources their bedroom has right now, and he lays down, despite the show he put into sitting up. he rolls towards stiles, manoeuvring as carefully as he can so as not to dislodge the hand resting on his skin beneath his shirt, and he pulls his arm over stiles' side. his eyes are half-shut, and he's just-- staring, softly, at stiles' lips. his nose. parts of stiles he loves. ]
All I want is to be here for you.
[ he's talking, now, voice hoarse from a lack of use. he could clear his throat, help make it stronger, but - he doesn't, because he's worried speaking too loudly or making too much noise will break the ethereal, quiet moment he's already intruding on by speaking. ]
You're... a lot of things to me. I could write a list. Top of it would be - you're the guy I call babe before freaking out for five minutes in a quiet panic, trying to determine whether or not I sounded like a stupid frat boy. I can apologize more than once, if I want to.
[ a pause. ]
I shouldn't be the outlier. People should listen to you. You're beautiful, and you're smart, and your instincts are amazing. You deserve more respect.
[ and... derek takes another pause. his voice stays low. apologetic, almost, even though he's not apologizing. like he just - naturally feels like he's imposing. ]
But I want... to know everything about your life. Everything. The good, the bad. All the things I should have been there for. We don't have to talk now, but... soon.
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stiles does his best to let derek get comfortable, but he's unwilling to take his hand off of him, letting his fingers slide and ghost over warm skin as derek moves around and settling his palm somewhere near the center of his back once derek's settled down. he's tired but he's not. derek looks sleepy though - soft, and his voice is low and a little bit rough with disuse. stiles listens, his fingers drawing lazy, shapeless patters on either side of derek's spine.
he almost forgot about the babe incident, but as soon as derek brings it up, stiles laughs, breathy and quiet and softly pleased. he sighs as derek presses on, his smile fading only slightly so it's more of a suggestion near the corners of his mouth than an actual, physical thing. derek's tone changes a little, but it's enough to shift stiles' mood a little as well. he sighs again, eyes watching his lips form around his words in the dark.
stiles wants to talk. not right now, but - he wants to tell him about a lot of things. doesn't want to tell him about a lot of things, too, just because he's afraid of what derek might think, how he might feel about him after. but he trusts derek. he trusts derek more than anything. loves him more than anyone he's ever loved.
stiles nods. it's subtle, but it's sure, and he slides his hand a little higher up derek's back, shirt bunching up around his arm. he shifts a little closer, just because he can. ]
Soon. Yeah... okay.
[ he smiles, and it's a little thin, but it's still genuine. carefully, he tilts his head down slightly to bump his nose against the underside of derek's jaw, just breathing there for a moment. and then he laughs, the same way he did before, words a low murmur. ]
I can't believe you called me babe. God. [ stiles tilts his head back just enough so he can look at derek. he doesn't say anything else for a solid five seconds, and then, like he's surprised by himself: ] … Can't believe I'm kind of into it.
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but he fucking loves stiles. loves him more than anything. he loves him, and he wants to touch him, and he wants stiles to know he's as physically attractive as derek thinks he is. they've done this enough times now that derek doesn't really second guess himself or struggle with how to hold him, but when he slides his hand further and further up beneath stiles' shirt, letting it ride up a few inches in the dark, there is a part of him that wonders if stiles is going to stop him.
he splays his hand flat over stiles' chest, just - touching. stiles nudges against his jaw, laughs a breath against his throat, and derek swallows, adam's apple bobbing in the darkness. he leans forward, kissing the top of stiles' head, and he lets his hand drift down, drift lower, until it's right against his side. ]
Had other ideas, too. Like "sweetheart". Pretty gross, right?
[ he brushes his thumb over stiles' hip, making long, smooth strokes. in the dark, he can't see much of stiles without turning on the big, scary red headlights, but he can adjust pretty quickly. derek shuffles down the bed another few inches so they're closer, more face to face, and he can see stiles' eyelashes, the cute upward peak of his nose. he can see his lips, slightly apart.
derek wants to kiss him. he slips his fingertips down stiles' waistband, leaving his hand against his thigh, and it's - comfortable, more than sexual, like he's just trying to keep his hand warm. it's... just comfortable at first, at least. derek lets his hand sink a little lower. a little closer. ]
C'mon. Keep playing with me.
[ slowly - methodically - derek curls his hand around stiles' cock, letting it rest in his hand. very gently, and very practiced, he starts to jerk him off beneath his clothes, holding eye contact and keeping his voice as absolutely quiet as possible. this quiet, this warmth, this-- obvious attraction, this intense, unshakeable amount of love and pride he feels whenever he looks at stiles-- it reminds derek of the barracks, and he just... ]
Which letter is silent in scent? You didn't take a stance. Like a coward.
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but he got through it with derek. even if derek was a little... distracted and pre-occupied and overridden by a deeper instinct to really notice all of stiles' flaws, stiles still got through it, and that's - progress. he breathes in deep when derek spreads his hand over his chest, like he just wants to feel him closer, push himself into the touch. he breathes out, letting his eyes close as his hand drifts down his side, stomach tensing only because it tickles a little.
and then he laughs, opening his eyes just so he can shoot derek an exaggerated, faux-disgusted look. ]
Oh, that's disgusting.
[ except it isn't, not really. something he'd have to get used to hearing coming from derek, but he doesn't think he'd hate it if he occasionally tossed out an affectionate pet name every once in a while. stiles lifts his hand just an inch or so when derek starts to move, letting him wriggle and settle before he lays his hand back down against his spine.
and then derek's hand inches lower, dips under the elastic of his waistband, settles against his thigh. stiles waits for a beat, but he just feels... safe. he feels comforted, at first, until derek's hand starts to move again, dipping lower, drifting inward, and stiles still feels safe, he always feels safe, but he also feels the distant pull of mild arousal start to warm him.
stiles sighs, slow and heavy. he swallows, lips parting a little, and if he subtly shifts his legs almost like an invitation before derek even gets his hand on his cock, well - stiles isn't exactly ashamed. he has to swallow again, wetting his bottom lip as his fingers flex gently against derek's lower back. he wants to close his eyes, but derek's looking at him, and he can't make himself look away. ]
Um. Mm. [ stiles' voice is just as quiet, still a little bit hoarse. he doesn't bother to clear his throat. he smiles kind of lazily after a moment, eyes still open, but half-lidded. ] Neither. They both just sound like... like an 'S'. You hear 'em both.
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he's still wearing his ring, bound tight on his left ring finger, cold against stiles' cock but slowly warming up. stiles leans into him and looks at him with those big, bright eyes, and derek steadily gets him harder. his eyes drift over every millimetre of stiles' face, taking him in - somewhere he nicked himself while he was shaving, a loose eyelash, a tinge of color on his cheek that might be there or might not be, it's too dark to tell. he's jerking stiles off softer and lazier and kinder than he ever has before, all sweet and subtle and comfortable. ]
Lame.
[ he could argue. complain about how two S noises would make scent sound more like sssssssssssscent, but it's a pointless tactic that he'd be able to chop the fuck down the second he deployed it. instead, derek's leg moves forward, tangling between stiles' and anchoring him close. securing him to his body, staying entwined.
derek takes his hand back. just for a second. he looks at stiles, maintains eye contact in the dark, then steadily draws his hand up to his own tongue. he licks his palm, gets it wet, smiling almost knowingly as he drops his hand back between stiles' legs and takes hold of him again. he jerks a little faster, now. ]
C'mon. Keep talking. You're at your hottest when you're asking stupid questions. Or - no, wait, fuck, you're at your hottest when you're being a nerd. Tell me how you feel about George Lucas, or something.
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