calloused: ғᴀᴏʟᴀᴅʜ (30.)
ᴅᴇʀᴇᴋ ʜᴀʟᴇ ♔ ([personal profile] calloused) wrote2019-01-19 03:09 pm
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Derek Hale. Leave a message.

( video / text / voice / action )

overshirts: <user name="footlights"> (230)

[personal profile] overshirts 2019-05-22 11:07 am (UTC)(link)
[ yeah, derek says, kinda like it's no big deal, and the air just rushes out of stiles' lungs, his face spilling into a wide grin. derek... built a car. derek built him a car - he's been building him a car, and stiles didn't have a clue, and he's just - so incredibly beyond touched.

and he's impressed, his eyes hyperfocused as derek takes a walk around the car. derek's cute when he's all shy and bashful, and stiles will definitely appreciate it after the fact, but he's just so deeply entranced by the amount of detail that he can't make himself pay attention to anything but the car until derek stops to lean against one of back tires.

derek's nervous all of the sudden. stiles can hear it, slightly, in the way he tries to defend and justify all the work he's done, and how he had to pull her together. stiles... loves him. that's not news, but stiles loves him, and he already loves this damn car. he nods as derek explains, slowly starting to pace around the den again to expel some of his excited energy. ]


I trust you.

[ he trusts that derek did well, doesn't have a sliver of doubt that it's not a beautiful, reliable vehicle. built by derek's own hands. jesus christ. derek should feel proud. stiles is proud of him, and as derek begins to circle the jeep again, stiles just finds himself more and more impressed and utterly awed by the attention to detail.

and he did it all without talking to stiles, literally the only other person currently in the city who's seen roscoe before? stiles breathes out, pushing one of his hands through his hair and holding the back of his head. he laughs, short and sweet. ]


Holy shit, babe. It's like you drove her right in from Beacon Hills.

[ it's not his mother's old car. stiles knows that, and he doesn't really want it to be, either. it's his jeep in every way that he loves her, but the sentiment here is different, and he's glad for that. he laughs again when derek beeps the horn, does a weird, kind of wobly 360 degree turn somewhere in the living room. ]

What? Are you kidding? Of course I want her, absolutely I want her.
overshirts: <user name="easycompany"> (021)

[personal profile] overshirts 2019-05-22 05:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[ stiles is the last person who should tell anyone what they should and shouldn't do while driving, the dozen-plus speeding tickets he was never written thanks to nepotism a testament to that. still, if he was maybe just a little less excited and enthused and pleasantly shocked, he might have scolded derek for even thinking about video chatting while driving. it's fine when he does stupid, careless stuff, but not when other's do it. the hypocrite.

as it stands, stiles is not less any of those things, so instead of chastising his boyfriend, he focuses on the interior of the car instead as derek settles in. he can only see a very isolated crop of the car, and he's already seen it all before on derek's walk-around tour, but he's just. eager.

derek looks really good sitting in it. granted, derek would look good sitting in a red metal wagon, but still. stiles hears the jingle of keys - his keys, with a personalized keychain and everything - followed by the gentle roar of the engine rumbling to life. stiles laughs again. he can't help it. derek built a working vehicle. a jeep, just like his prized car from back home, and it's beautiful in practically every way. kinda like derek, who is also beautiful in every way.

he takes no offense to the fuzzy dice comment, even though derek's wrong. stiles rolls his eyes, but there really isn't anything that could dampen his spirit right now. stiles sits down on the couch in the living room for maybe three seconds before he gets back up, full of too much energy and anticipation to even dream of being able to sit still right now. ]


Yeah, yes. Yes. I want to do that. Both of those things, all of it. Seriously, do you even have to ask? God.

[ stiles stoops to pet the cat as he passes her. she trills at him quietly, rolling and stretching out on her back, right over derek's shoe, which she seems to have adopted for the day. ]

No fuzzy dice, though. Hula lady on the dash, or nothing.
overshirts: <user name="darkwave"> | dns (some people out of luck)

[personal profile] overshirts 2019-05-24 02:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[ the anticipation and the excitement that thrums through stiles when derek starts to pull out of the garage is almost enough to send him outside to stand in the middle of the street to wait. instead, he listens to someone he can't see - and can only barely hear - talk to derek about the jeep. like he knows all about it, which isn't that surprising if he's been working on it at work for a while now. what is surprising is that they know it's for stiles, and that he's likely to be over the moon about it. derek could have told anyone that it was for - derek. but he didn't.

derek might be embarrassed, but stiles is - touched, honestly. he's very touched, and be bites at the inside corner of his bottom lip and ruffles the hair at the back of his head as he wanders the den and wonders how he can love one person so much. he dismisses the apology quietly, like it's ridiculous to apologize for making him happy, and then goes to find some shoes to put on.

a drive-in sounds like it would be kind of nice, if it were anywhere but here. it'd probably still be kinda nice, as long as derek was there, but he completely understands why derek might want to avoid it. part of the reason he likes the den so much is that it's easy to kind of shut out the rest of the city, the rest of the weird, twisted city they live in, and pretend, at least for a while, that they're getting a jump start on that life they've only recently been talking about living together, once duplicity is behind them.

stiles nods, dragging a pair of sneakers out and sitting on the corner of their bed. he should put his phone down so he can pull his shoes on faster, but he's kind of unwilling to stop looking at derek. instead, he pulls them on with one hand, the laces already done up because he's the kind of person who yanks his shoes off without undoing the laces. it's a little bit of a struggle, but he's managing. ]


Something private sounds - better. I'm—

[ he grimaces a little, only because he's fighting a little with getting his heel past the back of his shoe without it folding it and turning his sneaker into a slide. he tucks his tongue into the corner of his mouth, and he leans so he can press shoe to the floor and his foot into his shoe with his finger tucked into the back. eventually, he overcomes the struggle, and sits back up with a sigh.

it takes stiles a second or two to remember what he'd been about to say. he blinks, and he stands, and he looks kind of confused for a moment as he tries to put his train of thought back on track. ]


I'm... really excited. This is really cool, you're - really cool. More than cool.

[ he laughs a little at his own stupidity, and then leaves the bedroom, turning back down the hallway. ]

Can I meet you outside? I mean I'm going to do it anyway, I guess I'm just telling you.

[ stiles slides the front door open and then closed behind him, and he considers just - waiting at the top of the stairs for derek to come home, but that's not enough, so he all but races to the bottom. he's probably going to want to park the thing along the side of the den, maybe even around back, just for the sake of privacy and anonymity. ]

Doscoe's a good name. That's [ he laughs, ] that's such a good name. You absolute dork. Wow.
overshirts: <user name="footlights"> (230)

[personal profile] overshirts 2019-05-25 01:05 am (UTC)(link)
[ his entire ass it's not a big deal. this is a huge deal, at least for stiles. as much as pretty much everyone minus his father doesn't think roscoe is a sight to behold, his mom's old car is one of his most prized possessions, if not the most prized possession. it's so important and precious to him that more often than not, he's unwilling to let anyone else try to fix her when she breaks down, patching her up with duct tape when he can't afford to replace her belts or buy new hoses for her.

he knows that car like the back of his hand - and from what stiles could tell from just a small walk-around tour over video chat, derek does too. and that's so important to stiles, that's such a big deal. there's no way he's not going to wait for him outside.

stiles chatters while he waits, lazily pacing a short length of the street and answering all of derek's questions. he has no idea where he'll take doscoe first - somewhere with derek, probably. he's unsure about letting the cat in the car, wary about her claws and the leather, but then again, roscoe's transported plenty of werewolves back home, and she's still okay, so maybe doscoe would be fine.

every other minute or so, stiles glances past his phone toward the end of the street, anxious to see those round headlights and that slotted grill and the baby blue hood, the black doors. he rambles about how if he knew derek knew this much about cars back home, he would have trusted roscoe in his care, let him help fix her up in ways he's reluctant to let anybody else.

his excitement is palpable when derek says he'll be home soon. stiles pumps his fist and bends his knees and does this stupid little 360 degree spin, shoes scraping quietly against the asphalt. he seems mildly reluctant to hang up when derek says he needs to hang up, feels relieved when he changes his mind.

stiles sees doscoe rolling up the street well before derek eases her into the driveway, and by then, he's having a hard time paying attention to his phone. he goes kind of quiet, actually. he's speechless, and his chest hurts as derek puts her in park, but it's a good hurt, it's the best kind of hurt. it's been over half a year since stiles has seen his old car, and he knows this isn't her, but she's close. she's so goddamn close that if derek hadn't said he'd built doscoe himself, stiles might have believed he was staring at his mom's old jeep.

he hears the quiet beep of the call ending and only vaguely thinks to put his phone away. stiles slides it into his pocket and immediately starts approaching the jeep as derek starts to climb out of it. he stops a little short, and that's when he starts to smile, big and sun-bright. derek says hey, and stiles says- ]


Holy - god. Oh my god.

[ -and he tears his eyes away from doscoe to look at derek, letting him press the keys into his hand, which he closes his fingers around tightly. stiles stares at derek for a few very long seconds after he's told to go take a look. he just wants to kiss him. he smiles at him instead, soft and fond and faintly overwhelmed, and then he finally steps away from him after touching his fingers to derek's side.

he's hit with a surge of excited energy as he starts to look doscoe over, moving from one part of her to the next like a vibrating chihuahua. he runs his fingers over a fender, wiggles the driver's side-view mirror, runs his hand along the top edge of the window where it meets the roof, black like the door. stiles touches both tail lights as he circles around the back, stops to squat by the back tire, touches the hubcap, jumps back up to keep moving. when he gets to the front of the jeep, he curls his fingers in the front grill, flicks at one of the hood latches. stiles does all of this while talking to himself excitedly under his breath, about how all of it is practically the same, just like roscoe.

turning around, stiles moves around the side of the car again while looking at derek, unable to put into words how pleased he is so far, how proud he is of derek for - getting something so important him right, for even doing any of this in the first place. he grins at him as he pulls open the driver side door and climbs in, sliding into the seat and stretching his legs out toward the pedals. he's still got the keys hanging from his fingers when he puts both hands on the steering wheel, and for a moment, he kind of loses himself. stiles lets his hands trace the wheel, touches the hub at the center. he runs his fingertips along the dash, tilts his head back to look up at the exposed metal interior of the roof, reaches up to touch that too like it's the fucking - creation of adam, on the ceiling of the sistine chapel. he twists around in his seat to look in the back, which is exactly as it should be too.

when stiles turns back around, he has to wipe his hands over his thighs. he wets his lips, and he pushes the keys into the ignition, and he turns it over - and she roars to life, just like she did in the garage when derek started her up. stiles just starts laughing - bold and bright and uncontrollable. he drums his hands on the steering wheel, grabs hold of it at ten and two, rocks himself back and forth a couple times in his excitement. he stares at derek through the windshield, stood in front of the home they share together, and he sighs. he doesn't care that derek probably can't hear him, doesn't care if he can. ]


God, I love you. You did this. Dude, you did this! ... For me. [ he slides his hands down the outer curves of the steering wheel, guides them back up, continues to stare at derek. ] I wanna blow you so bad.

[ stiles cuts the engine, keys jingling quietly in his hand as he opens the door and climbs out, pushing the door closed behind him. stiles puts his keys in his pocket and stands there by the side of the jeep for a moment, and then he strides forward - right up to derek, where he grabs the front of his shirt with both hands and pulls him forward. when he kisses him, it's almost chaste. light but lingering, and when stiles pulls away, he's still got his eyes closed. he wet his bottom lip. ]

... Thank you.
overshirts: <user name="darkwave"> | dns (in what you believe)

[personal profile] overshirts 2019-05-25 06:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[ it's not that stiles may have forgotten, for a moment, that derek is a werewolf with enhanced hearing, but - he may have forgotten for a moment that derek is a werewolf with enhanced hearing. except that's not really true, because that's a very hard thing to forget about your boyfriend - most of his friends in general, actually -, but he had kind of been banking on his affectionate, appreciative rambling being drowned out by the sound of the jeep's engine and the barrier of glass between them.

but of course derek would hear the blowjob comment. of course he would bring it up to make sure stiles knows he heard. stiles isn't ashamed though, but he does turn a little bit pink and he does press his lips together and kind of push his fists into derek's chest where they're still closed around handfuls of his shirt. stiles opens his eyes, unfurling his hands and letting his palms drift down derek's front for a moment before pulling them away.

claudia would have liked derek. stiles stands there and just looks at him quietly, even though derek seems preoccupied with the jeep, and he thinks about how his late mother would have loved him, this man who is always there to protect her son. this man who pays attention to him and listens and does his best to make sure he's happy. claudia would have laughed delightedly about doscoe. stiles misses his mom a lot - that's something that never really changes, no matter how long it's been - and he's missed roscoe more than he's ever really admitted, because it seems kind of lame to miss a car, but the sentiment is what's important to him, the memories. her final gift to him.

doscoe isn't roscoe - no car would ever be able to take her place - but she's pretty fucking close. she's a reminder of the people he loves, and who love him in return.

derek tugs at his sleeve. stiles blinks once, twice, like he's coming back from somewhere far away. derek reminds him of that date he wants to go on, the one they still need to hash out the details for, and stiles sighs quietly. happily. he smiles, and he steps and turns so he's standing next to derek instead of in front of him, draping his arm over the back of his neck and reaching across in front of him to hold onto his own wrist. he leans into derek slightly, looking at the beautiful piece of craftsmanship in their driveway. ]


Yeah. Me too.

[ breathing out through his nose, stiles chews at the inside of his cheek, his mouth twisting thoughtfully as he contemplates possible date ideas. he wonders, briefly, what it would take to set up a private drive-in of their own, maybe somewhere out back, or in the woods. set up a sheet as a screen, make some popcorn in the den to bring out with them. he'd have to look into finding a cheap projector somewhere that's compatible with his laptop, but that seems like it could take some time.

and stiles is impatient.

he turns his head to look at derek's profile, wetting his lips. ]


What are— do you have any plans? Tonight? We could, um. We could drive her around for a little bit, maybe pick up some take-out. D'you think she'd get stuck in the sand on the beach?

[ that's a dumb question, because he drove roscoe across what was practically a desert to go and rescue derek once, and aside from breaking down for reasons unrelated to sand and desert, she did pretty well. stiles asks anyway. ]