[ there are little things about duplicity that derek's been learning how to navigate, even though moving with the grain here make him feel a special kind of sick. at home, he'd pick up stiles' boxes without asking, carrying them - as well as his own - back, so that stiles could rest his arms. here, being a dominant doing work while your submissive trails along behind you carefree earns dirty looks and confused stares. derek could stomach it, if his sub were anyone else, but. he hates when people look at stiles like he's anything less than what he is - someone more deserving of respect than fucking anybody.
so he just says i'm good. he's holding the innards of rosalind's library to his chest, gripping the box with both hands. if stiles is done, then derek should ask if he's ready to leave so they can get out of here before they're seen, but a smaller, more sentimental part of him wants to give stiles a moment to say goodbye to the place. he doesn't make a move to leave, though, not even to wait outside. he just... stands here, looking at his feet.
he hasn't really lost anyone yet. he's just seen stiles lose them. it's hard, being on this side of things. new. he's used to carrying everything. ]
We should do something tonight. Just us.
[ a date, or - at least a movie, or something. something small and pleasant and safe that anchors the two of them together, so that they'll have a solid reminder that they're still here, and that they still have each other, and that maybe things will change eventually, but right now, everything's okay.
he looks up, holding the box of books a little tighter. ]
Maybe just... sit on the beach. Look at the waves. Something like that.
[ they should go. stiles has spent enough time here already, and the longer he stands here in this lab, the worse he kind of feels about - everything. he's not devastated, but - rosalind was one of the first people he met here, right after orientation. she helped him without judgment, became his friend, his mentor, treated him like an equal - for the most part.
she hated his clothes, which had bothered him at the time, but now just seems kind of - silly. he's kind of upset that she didn't take his stupid shirt with her, the one he left behind just to spite her, to see if it would grow on her.
he's not going to get anything else out of standing here in her lab, though, and the longer they stay here, the higher the risk of being caught. stiles wets his lips, hands framing one of the boxes on the table. derek is... too good to him. he didn't have to come help, he didn't have to give stiles a little space, he doesn't have to suggest they do something to keep stiles from dwelling - but he offers these things anyway, because he knows these are things stiles needs without having to ask.
stiles doesn't know what he'll do, if there comes a day that he wakes up and derek isn't there anymore. ]
... Okay.
[ stiles nods, and he says yeah, just as quiet, and he stacks his boxes, sliding them to the edge of the table. the one filled with glassware is heavy, but it's not more than stiles can handle. still, he's careful as he finds his grip and adjusts the weight in his hands, the lighter box tucked under his chin.
the beach sounds... nice. he'd be fine with sitting at home, too, laying in bed with his laptop, watching a movie or playing a game of chess. making dinner together, working on this cat problem - it doesn't matter. all he really wants to do with what's left of the day and the rest of the night is just - spend time with derek.
stiles lifts his chin at derek, indicating that they're okay to go. ]
I'm gonna need you to get the lights. And the door. ... And the elevator.
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[ there are little things about duplicity that derek's been learning how to navigate, even though moving with the grain here make him feel a special kind of sick. at home, he'd pick up stiles' boxes without asking, carrying them - as well as his own - back, so that stiles could rest his arms. here, being a dominant doing work while your submissive trails along behind you carefree earns dirty looks and confused stares. derek could stomach it, if his sub were anyone else, but. he hates when people look at stiles like he's anything less than what he is - someone more deserving of respect than fucking anybody.
so he just says i'm good. he's holding the innards of rosalind's library to his chest, gripping the box with both hands. if stiles is done, then derek should ask if he's ready to leave so they can get out of here before they're seen, but a smaller, more sentimental part of him wants to give stiles a moment to say goodbye to the place. he doesn't make a move to leave, though, not even to wait outside. he just... stands here, looking at his feet.
he hasn't really lost anyone yet. he's just seen stiles lose them. it's hard, being on this side of things. new. he's used to carrying everything. ]
We should do something tonight. Just us.
[ a date, or - at least a movie, or something. something small and pleasant and safe that anchors the two of them together, so that they'll have a solid reminder that they're still here, and that they still have each other, and that maybe things will change eventually, but right now, everything's okay.
he looks up, holding the box of books a little tighter. ]
Maybe just... sit on the beach. Look at the waves. Something like that.
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she hated his clothes, which had bothered him at the time, but now just seems kind of - silly. he's kind of upset that she didn't take his stupid shirt with her, the one he left behind just to spite her, to see if it would grow on her.
he's not going to get anything else out of standing here in her lab, though, and the longer they stay here, the higher the risk of being caught. stiles wets his lips, hands framing one of the boxes on the table. derek is... too good to him. he didn't have to come help, he didn't have to give stiles a little space, he doesn't have to suggest they do something to keep stiles from dwelling - but he offers these things anyway, because he knows these are things stiles needs without having to ask.
stiles doesn't know what he'll do, if there comes a day that he wakes up and derek isn't there anymore. ]
... Okay.
[ stiles nods, and he says yeah, just as quiet, and he stacks his boxes, sliding them to the edge of the table. the one filled with glassware is heavy, but it's not more than stiles can handle. still, he's careful as he finds his grip and adjusts the weight in his hands, the lighter box tucked under his chin.
the beach sounds... nice. he'd be fine with sitting at home, too, laying in bed with his laptop, watching a movie or playing a game of chess. making dinner together, working on this cat problem - it doesn't matter. all he really wants to do with what's left of the day and the rest of the night is just - spend time with derek.
stiles lifts his chin at derek, indicating that they're okay to go. ]
I'm gonna need you to get the lights. And the door. ... And the elevator.