studmuffin | → there's just a few things I think that you should know

Yes.

[ Fistpump. ]

[He moves, then, but catches himself before he pulls Stiles closer, and moves just a little ways away]

You seem to like it.

Well, being better than Jackson at something sounds awesome. [ Sing song-y voice because it makes him unnaturally happy. ]

[He suppresses a grin at that]

You're better than Jackson at a lot of things.

That's totally not something I thought I'd ever hear.

Well, you're hearing it now.

Yeah. Yeah, I am.

[He moves back again]

We should get your bed up.

[Sleep in my bed, sleep with me.]

Oh. You want me to stay here. [ He kind of wants to say no simply because leaving was hard enough before. But this Derek is without all his rough edges and he's making Stiles even more confused. ]

Please.

[He says it suddenly - he hadn't meant to, it's something he doesn't even do at home. Stiles just knows.

But everything smells differently, even his boyfriend, and he just wants something familiar, even if it is on the other side of the room]

Okay. Okay.

[ Nervously. ] I'll stick around.

[He nods, and makes his way to the room that was Stiles' to get things ready.]

[ Trailing after him. ]

Hey, where's Isaac?

Anywhere but here, I think.

So do I get on with them? The pack? Like because most of the time there's the threat of violence and that's just Erica.

Yeah, you do.

[He looks a little puzzled]

You're all friends. You hang out at school.

We don't. Where I'm from. They left school and ran away to live in your creepy underground train. I mean, there's some life saving going on but we're not friends.

You didn't let your dad arrest Isaac, when his dad died. You hunted Jackson down and made him swear it wasn't Isaac.

[Pause]

You and Erica and Boyd would train together. You taught Boyd to find his anchor.

[ For a moment he wishes he had that, for just a second he longs for it because it sounds good. ]

Hey, sounds like other me is useful.

[He rolls his eyes.]

Yeah, just a little.

[ Leaning against the doorway. ]

You're not as apoplectic with rage like this.

[He smirks a little]

I get my rage out in other ways.

But you don't complain.

[ Rubbing a hand over his face. ]

Sex therapy. Fuck other me, he sucks.

Like a hoover.

[ He's trying not to imagine that because he's already getting hot under the collar. ]

Dear lord.

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I clearly have been writing too many text tags

that's okay bb! /clings

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