robinonadderall | Not-So-Creepy Mansion

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wolves: derek hale 2.0

Not-So-Creepy Mansion | Friday Evening

Stiles had arranged for a portal to take him back to Fandom even before the clusterfuck that was last night went down and he was grateful for it this evening (it was a different evening, right? Stupid timelines) seeing as he had sort of felt like a zombie the last few hours. He was still sore as hell from getting the crap kicked out of him so the walk from the causeway into town was slow. He wasn't really thinking about where he was going but wasn't really surpised when he found himself at Derek and Mike's front door.

He let himself in (he hoped by now Mike realized B&E was a talent of his) and shuffled towards Derek's room, only taking a second to marvel at the fact that Derek actually had a bed now before kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his (Derek's, really) jacket before crawling under the covers.

Right now he was moping, but he was hoping it'd turn to sleep soon. Derek could just deal.

[For the guy whose bed it is]

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Oh, Stiles. You sweet, summer child.

Derek fixed him with an annoyed look. You and your keeping Derek out of the loop. What did you think this was? Canon?

"Because we had a fight." Duh.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll just ask Jack about it."

Well, Jack was the mature one here. It was the best plan.

"Good." Oh god, Derek you're like a sulky little child who doesn't like to share. Next he'll be going 'I hope you're very happy together' before running out of the Denny's in tears.

Manly tears, but still.

"Keep him out of Beacon Hills next time."

"I wouldn't have asked him to come if I thought he was in any danger," Stiles said. "It just supposed to be a lacrosse game."

There was a pause as Derek was confirming that was indeed the truth. Because he was weird. "I don't understand the obsession with lacrosse there."

Was that... was that actual, normal conversation?

It's like they were friends or something, so weird.

"Lacrosse is awesome," Stiles said. "You're not normal. And I actually got to play, for the first time ever."

Look he was still in awe of that.

He was a perfectly normal werewolf. "How'd that go?"

"Um, I kicked ass. Scored three goals and won the game," Stiles said, pretending that Derek actually cared or something. "Didn't really get to enjoy the win though 'cause, you know, kidnapping. Which actually keeps happening when good things happen to me, you'd think I'd be prepared for it by now."

No, you just have to be sad every time. EVERY TIME, SCOTT.

"Werewolves," Derek reminded him. "It could have been worse. They showed some restraint."

And that you are alive.

"Showing restraint was the point. They wanted to threaten Scott into doing what they wanted, which ended up backfiring," he said. "Unknown to both them and me, Scott had something else going on. So essentially this happened to me for no reason."

He was only a tiny bit mad about that. Just a little bit.

Tiny bit.

Derek stared, trying to figure out just what they would want Scott to do. Well, other than die horribly. "Why Scott?"

"Because everybody wants Scott on their side," Stiles said. "He might not be a great werewolf but he does have a remarkable ability to get people on his side."

Unlike you, Derek, you anti-social creeper.

Yeah, well. Not Derek.

Yet.

Shut up.

"I still don't see it." He just saw a very dumb puppy.

"Oh I bet you will eventually," Stiles said, smirking. "Start making your 'I heart Scott' t-shirt now."

"I'm more team Edward," he replied dryly. Because sometimes he had a sense of humor. Sometimes.

Stiles shook his head. "Dusk jokes? Really? I'm officially not afraid of you anymore."

"I'll cry about it later."

"Well wait until I'm asleep before you start weeping," Stiles said. "Also congrats on finally getting a bed. And the cute little step stool."

"The dog is too short for it." Oh god, that was just precious.

"That's adorable." Yes, adorable. "I call dibs on getting to cuddle with him."

Stiles, that dog is going to run away from you as soon as you started flailing and talking in your sleep.

"If it keeps you from clinging to me, he's all yours."

Oh, boys. Nothing would stop the cuddling.

"You were doing the clinging the last time!" He was forced into the big spoon position, forced!

Did not! "You licked me."

"You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Because you licked me."

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robinonadderall - 2012-12-15 22:00 (UTC) - Expand

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