robinonadderall | Entries tagged with humans: mike lane

Since their last attempt at a vacation had been sort of a disaster, Stiles and Derek decided a quick weekend to Fandom was in order. It wasn't much of a vacation site but, hey, at least they could say they left the house...and went back to their old house. Mike was such a good person for putting up with them.

Like old times Stiles was asleep upstairs totally unaware some Fandom weirdness was going on. But he'd find out. Oh, he'd find out.

[For the guy, the other guy that owns the place and anybody else that knocks]

Stiles had come back to town to get Puppy Joe snuggles and to take blatant advantage of the bigger TV. Netflix had put one of his favorite childhood cartoons into rotation and it needed to be viewed on the big screen. So he decided to spend (Derek's) money on an overnight trip to Fandom and was now hogging the couch reading one of Derek's wedding magazines while the cartoon played in the background. He was also slowly eating everything that Derek and Mike had put in the fridge.

It was like Christmas for Puppy Joe since Stiles was a messy eater so he got to eat everything that was dropped on the floor.

[Open!]

Stiles was dying. This was it, his last days on earth. He had clearly contracted some sort of ebola-like disease and was in the midst of shuffling his mortal coil. He would die on this couch.

Or he could just be really sick. It was probably that one.

At least it was his last day of torturing people in the mansion with his coughs and whining. He was going back to Beacon Hills tomorrow to torture his dad and the McCalls with it. Everybody deserved to deal with Stiles when he was like this. At least the werewolves couldn't catch anything.

[Open for the people that live there/visitors. Gotta get this brat out of town during the BDE. Stupid job with stupid working]

Okay, Stiles wanted to at least be a little bit impressive with his final project in Dr. Lecter's class, which would be why he wasn't going to write a paper or make peanut butter and jelly. Instead he had asked his dad to send one of his mother's old cookbooks and was attempting to make knedle serowo-truskawkowe. It was something she used to make for him and Scott when they were kids.

"Attempting" being the key word here. The first batch for his trial run was a burnt mess so now he was starting over, getting a fresh sheen of flour all over everything in the kitchen. It covered up the chunks of unused dough and smushed up strawberries from the first batch nicely.

At least he hadn't tried to make golabki. Then the kitchen would stink like cabbage in addition to being a mess.

[Post is open for the people that live there and anybody who wants to stop by ofc]

Even after 20 years, some things didn't change. Stiles still refused to use his first name, he still talked in his sleep and he still liked to sleep cuddled up next to Derek. Only now he didn't have to hide the fact that he enjoyed it. Even if he did complain about Derek being a cuddler for old time's sake sometimes.

"Scratchy," Stiles mumbled, nowhere near fully awake when he said it. Being married to a living spacer heater meant Stiles actually slept with his shirt off more often than not which gave Derek more area to massacre Stiles with stubble burn. It made Stiles look like he had some weird rash most of the time.

[For the now husband and the other person in the house! And anybody else that wants to knock on the door I guess]

Obviously the biggest mistake Stiles had ever made in his young life was telling Derek he was going out for track. Ever since then every time he tried to take a step into town it felt like it turned into a training session because apparently Derek felt like jeans and a t-shirt were perfectly acceptable workout attire.

The only good thing about being forced into running until he almost dropped dead was that he got to use the very much non-communal showers in the mansion afterward. Stiles never thought he'd miss showering by himself so much. He could sing without judgment, use up all of Derek's shampoo---wait. He could do other things in there too. Things he hadn't been able to do since taking up residence in the bouncy castle with Jackson and two girls.

Initially he felt a little guilty when he thought about it but...Derek did say to find somewhere not the campgrounds to take care of himself. He had needs, shut up. He'd make it real quick, nobody would know he did it.

[I'm not even sorry. Bathroom defiled with permission and the mansion is totes open to the other people in the house, of course]

After getting the hell scared out of him by Kate last night Stiles risked the glaring of his life to go check in on Derek at his house. At least he told himself it was just to check in. It certainly had nothing to do with having violent Argent flashbacks from last month and wanting to be somewhere safe. Nope. Not at all.

Even the safety aspect of this was iffy because you had to have been blind not to notice the bullet holes around the place. Stiles managed to coax Puppy Joe out from under the couch and took him up to Derek's room for much needed cuddling. Which eventually turned into sleeping. 'Cause there was something about Derek's bed that made him pass out for some reason.

And Stiles was still there the next day. Comfort zone reasons aside, it was the best place to wait for Derek. If he ever came back.

[Open for the occupants of said house, yes. And calls too!]

Current Mood: worried

Right, so, Stiles' Thanksgiving had sucked what with getting his dad fired and Scott almost dying and them not being any closer to solving the whole kanima thing. He needed to relieve some stress and doing it the usual way wasn't cutting it. Which would be why he was at Derek's with a small jar filled with mountain ash. Deaton had been proud to hear of what Stiles accomplished and gave some more of it just in case. He was dying to see if the other night was just a fluke or if he really did gain a new skill.

Unlike the last time he did this, Stiles wasn't all that nervous about the small amount of mountain ash he had. In fact he purposely took less than was needed. He sprinkled some of it for a couple feet before closing his eyes and picturing a completed ring of ash around the mansion. Sure enough when he opened his eyes back up again the circle was complete. Oh yeah, he was totally magic.

He was in no rush to see if it worked, so he let himself in the house and wandered into the kitchen because he hadn't had anything to eat yet today. He ended up finding the motherload of Thanksgiving leftovers and quickly took to making himself a turkey sandwich and...finishing off the pie.

Whoops.

[For the werewolf who has no chest hair! And the stripper with no chest hair, if he wants!]

The pizza had been eaten, there might have been a child or two traumatized by Stiles' choice in movies but at least there hadn't been any injuries despite the fact it was a bunch of children inside the creeper mansion. All in all it was a pretty successful sleepover for one that Stiles was half-responsible for.

Sadly now there was a bunch of adults and one teenager to deal with a morning after. Surely this won't be awkward. Or painful. Derek was involved so it might end up being painful.

[For those that slept over! And anyone else around too as well]