[ It still kind of blows his mind he can just talk and do one handed pushups like that. Stiles can do his fair share of pushups but damn. Wiggling out of a sitting position, he lays down on his stomach and faces across from him, propped up on his elbows and chewing thoughtfully. ]
Gonna go look into Dad's police records on the murder site and try to get to know Dean instead of Anita, considering he was at the site last night and their stories were a little mixed up. [ He wrinkles his nose at that, crumpling up the wrapper. There was something weird going on there.] And maybe eat or something. [ Hand wave.] You?
[ Slowing to a stop, supported on the one hand and on level with Stiles where he's opted to stretch out across from him, he seems to consider the information and eventual question for a moment. Once he seems to have everything sorted in the order he wants it in, Derek then resumes his pre-jog workout without batting an eye. ]
They didn't expect us to be there, so if their stories got a little jumbled it wouldn't have been a problem. [ He mimics the hand wave with his free hand. ] I'm going to get the pack together and put them all on patrol. [ A pause. ] Pick someone in the pack you'd want with you, if you went back to the site.
[ His mind is already putting together the territory, what they'd have to cover. Who, in what pairs, would get the most ground covered in which terrains. In town, they should still be fine on their own, but he has never backed down from issuing the order of stay in pairs when threats enter Beacon Hills. ]
It's my turn with the emergency phone, anyway. [ One of Stiles' smarter ideas after the alpha pack thing had been a cellphone--one of those cheap pay per use ones--that got passed around to people on patrol. It had everyone's numbers programmed into speed dial, so if someone got in trouble, all they had to do was hit a number. Much more conspicuous than howling.
He'll probably take Scott with him; that's a no brainer. He watches Derek go up and down absentmindedly, chewing on his lip, a telltale sign of thought. ] It wasn't a little jumbled, it was a lot jumbled. Like mixed around in a martini shaker and thrown out jumbled. Whatever it is I'm going to have to get in there and figure things out. [ Ah yes snooping. His favorite. ]
Get it before you head to the station. [ It's just a simple reminder, one he's sure will pop up somewhere around the time of the station if Stiles gets lost in his thoughts. But still, Derek's fairly proud of and pleased with him for the idea of the emergency phone. All of their phones, likewise, had set it as a single-number speed dial, and they had the number memorized in case they didn't have their phones.
There were many reasons why Stiles was the second, and the idea proved one of them. ]
Try not to get caught in the blender. [ Scott with Stiles. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac for the areas that need the most coverage. Jackson and Lydia. Allison and Danny. He knows it's hypocritical of him to not select someone to go with him, but right now it's not an option in his mind. ]
Aye aye, cap'n. [ Finally hopping to his feet, he gets up and pulls the phone out of the wall. Stiles' Two Rules: 1.) Always keep the phone on you. Put it in your underwear if you have to. 2.) Always keep the phone charged. Make fun of his lists all you want but they are damn good lists, and they've saved tails (literally) more than once since the phone was initiated into pack life. Tucking it in the pocket of his running pants, he gives it a tell tale pat, leaning against the bedframe and drawling. ]
[ Crinkling his nose at him, he lowers his free hand again to push himself up enough to get his feet under him in a smooth motion. He does more reps than this in one sitting, usually, but they have business to take care of. He nods his approval at the pat, before he reaches out to hook his fingers in the waistband of Stiles' pants. ]
Of course. [ He tugs a little to pull him closer, bumping his forehead into his with a faint chuff in response to the nickname. ] Have to make sure the housewives don't come out to try and lure you into their houses.
[ Making a "whoa" noise the minute he gets tugged--because despite six months of marriage and years and years of actually knowing each other, Stiles still gets startled by the littlest, stupidest things--he lifts his hands anyway and rests them on Derek's shoulders, leaning in for a quick little kiss and responding with a derisive snort.]
Dude, it's you I worry about. Mrs. Johnson from down the street literally watches out of the window every time we go for a run like she wants to lick you.
[ But no one gets to do that except Stiles so ha.]
[ Affectionately amused by the whoa, Derek snorts and returns the kiss as his hand slides up from his waistband and settles at his waist for a brief moment. Marriage and familiarity don't really dampen the newness of this, or the way that he simply enjoys that he can do it. That they both do it. Before he pulls away completely, he nudges his nose into Stiles' with a soft rumble. ]
That's too bad, because that's definitely not happening any time soon.
I know right! It's awesome. [ Hm, maybe it could be one of those not going for a run mornings. Stiles seriously doubts it, especially because they both need it but you know. It's kind of worth a shot.
And you know what he's not going to complain for a chance to drag his hands down Derek's freakin' washboard of a stomach.] They can look but they can't touch and it's like the greatest thing ever. [ He sounds gleeful. ]
[ Biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the grin and his absolute glee that Stiles exhibits, he cocks his head down at him before his eyes drop down to where his hands are. There's a brief moment where he considers it, wonders if maybe they don't really need to go running this morning. They could just stay in bed for the usual durations of their jogs, try to work off energy there.
But. ]
I think what you enjoy most is the fact you can flaunt me around town like that. [ He slips his hands up to take Stiles', thumbs pressed into his palms. ] C'mon, it's time for walkies.
Damn it. [ Well, it was worth a try. He'd halfway moved towards kneeling down but stopped the minute Derek's hands came over his, rolling his eyes good naturedly as he pulls away, his other hand lingering around Derek's.
It would have been a better use of time though. Just saying. ]
Yeah yeah, walkies. [Mockingly.] Need me to grab your leash? [...what, being married hasn't stopped him from being a dick. ]
[ It would be, but he'd be even less inclined to actually do work if they succumbed to the very tempting offer. Guiding him towards the door with the hands that remain together, he uses his other hand to smack him on the ass without a care in the world. ]
Save the leash for later. [ Dryly. Nothing is going to stop Derek from answering in kind. ]
Jesus-- [ Yep. He definitely jumps about a foot in the air at that and shoots him a look. Some people make it incredibly difficult to get out of the door in the morning. Derek is one of them. Using their connected hands, he steps through the doorframe first and tugs Derek towards him, other hand curled around the waistband of his pants, and grins, drawling right back. ]
Don't tempt me. [ Before pushing just a little closer and giving him a chaste smooch on the mouth. Jerk. ]
[ Not at all bothered by a sudden Stiles in his space, he smiles against the smooch as he returns it, dialing back from the almost-fangy grin that was initially on his face. He brings his hand up to cup the side of his face, thumb tracing the familiar constellation of moles and freckles beneath it before he gives a little nudge. ]
Too early for you, old man? [He rolls his eyes at the nudge, albeit with a shit eating grin still on his face, and fixes his pants, striding out from beside him towards the door and holding it open.
This is part of the reason he married Derek, hell. Not the sex (but that's kind of awesome), but the stupid banter, the fact that he can just effortlessly bounce off of him without even thinking. They've been in a rhythm for ages now, and it almost never gets off track. ]
Yes. I might actually sprain my hip if we stop to make sure the coffee table is still as sturdy as when we got it. Let me loosen up first, then I'll see what I can do.
[ His expression is completely straight as he goes walking along, head tilted towards him with amused interest.
It's true. The banter was always there, even before the feelings for each other had developed, and the fact that it still stays? Is probably one of the brighter parts of everything, to be honest. (Yes, the sex is awesome, but it's only one piece to the whole thing that they are.) ]
By then, you'll be pretty limbered up, too. We can see just how flexible you are today.
[ He calls that out cheerfully and boner walks hurries out after him, tugging the door shut and double timing out the door. There's going to need to be some epic payback when this is all over.
He pauses out by the mailbox and tightens his shoelaces though, ready to take off whenever Derek does.]
[ There's no doubt in his mind that he's going to get Stiles' infamous brand of payback at some point, but honestly? Derek wouldn't provoke him if he wasn't looking forward to it, in some way. It's always fun to rile him up.
He shifts his weight back and forth, examining the neighborhood in silence for a moment before he moves. ]
[It's entirely by coincidence that Anita walks through her front door only moments after Derek and Stiles exit their own home, but she does so all the same, clearly dressed for jogging in track pants, a tank top and running shoes. She raises an eyebrow at the both of them as she approaches her own mailbox, peeking in briefly as she passes.
They haven't really been there long enough to get mail, but she can't help being curious. It's been years since she last had a real mailing address, and even then, it hadn't been for very long.
She offers the both of them a warm half smile, reaching back to pull her hair in a tail so it won't hinder her during her own run.]
[ He's about to have some undoubtedly quick comeback for Derek's banter when Stiles' attention is caught by Anita. Turning towards her, he raises his hand in greeting, grinning. ]
Running at seven am's part of that whole Satanic cult thing where you're from too, huh.
[ Turning his head the moment that Anita opens the door, but not enough to give away that he hears her, Derek stretches his arms across his chest, one at a time while listening to the rest of the neighborhood. Mrs. Johnson is starting her morning ritual of setting up camp at the kitchen window while she makes breakfast, and he can't help but snort softly before he actually turns to focus on Stiles and Anita properly. ]
Does your cult branch sacrifice chickens after the run, or goats?
[ His comment is completely dry, but almost indulgent. As if he's completely given up on correcting Stiles and telling him to stop. (He has.) ]
[She grins broadly at Stiles in reply. Oh, cult humor. Hilarious. Sacrifice? That's funny, too. A little close to home, but funny.]
You bet it is. I think there's something about it in the rulebooks? All the branches adhere to it.
[In all honesty, she hates exercise, and thinner thighs is not nearly enough incentive for the torture she puts herself through. It's all about being able to outrun things bigger and badder than her should the need arise -- which it often has. Exercising isn't so bad when she can get Dean to run with her, but those instances are few and far between.
Jerk eats like a horse and never puts on a pound. It was extremely unfair, really.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Gonna go look into Dad's police records on the murder site and try to get to know Dean instead of Anita, considering he was at the site last night and their stories were a little mixed up. [ He wrinkles his nose at that, crumpling up the wrapper. There was something weird going on there.] And maybe eat or something. [ Hand wave.] You?
no subject
They didn't expect us to be there, so if their stories got a little jumbled it wouldn't have been a problem. [ He mimics the hand wave with his free hand. ] I'm going to get the pack together and put them all on patrol. [ A pause. ] Pick someone in the pack you'd want with you, if you went back to the site.
[ His mind is already putting together the territory, what they'd have to cover. Who, in what pairs, would get the most ground covered in which terrains. In town, they should still be fine on their own, but he has never backed down from issuing the order of stay in pairs when threats enter Beacon Hills. ]
no subject
He'll probably take Scott with him; that's a no brainer. He watches Derek go up and down absentmindedly, chewing on his lip, a telltale sign of thought. ] It wasn't a little jumbled, it was a lot jumbled. Like mixed around in a martini shaker and thrown out jumbled. Whatever it is I'm going to have to get in there and figure things out. [ Ah yes snooping. His favorite. ]
no subject
There were many reasons why Stiles was the second, and the idea proved one of them. ]
Try not to get caught in the blender. [ Scott with Stiles. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac for the areas that need the most coverage. Jackson and Lydia. Allison and Danny. He knows it's hypocritical of him to not select someone to go with him, but right now it's not an option in his mind. ]
no subject
I'll do my best. Coming, G.I Alpha?
no subject
Of course. [ He tugs a little to pull him closer, bumping his forehead into his with a faint chuff in response to the nickname. ] Have to make sure the housewives don't come out to try and lure you into their houses.
no subject
Dude, it's you I worry about. Mrs. Johnson from down the street literally watches out of the window every time we go for a run like she wants to lick you.
[ But no one gets to do that except Stiles so ha.]
no subject
That's too bad, because that's definitely not happening any time soon.
no subject
I know right! It's awesome. [ Hm, maybe it could be one of those not going for a run mornings. Stiles seriously doubts it, especially because they both need it but you know. It's kind of worth a shot.
And you know what he's not going to complain for a chance to drag his hands down Derek's freakin' washboard of a stomach.] They can look but they can't touch and it's like the greatest thing ever. [ He sounds gleeful. ]
no subject
But. ]
I think what you enjoy most is the fact you can flaunt me around town like that. [ He slips his hands up to take Stiles', thumbs pressed into his palms. ] C'mon, it's time for walkies.
no subject
It would have been a better use of time though. Just saying. ]
Yeah yeah, walkies. [Mockingly.] Need me to grab your leash? [...what, being married hasn't stopped him from being a dick. ]
no subject
Save the leash for later. [ Dryly. Nothing is going to stop Derek from answering in kind. ]
no subject
Don't tempt me. [ Before pushing just a little closer and giving him a chaste smooch on the mouth. Jerk. ]
no subject
[ Not at all bothered by a sudden Stiles in his space, he smiles against the smooch as he returns it, dialing back from the almost-fangy grin that was initially on his face. He brings his hand up to cup the side of his face, thumb tracing the familiar constellation of moles and freckles beneath it before he gives a little nudge. ]
Out.
no subject
This is part of the reason he married Derek, hell. Not the sex (but that's kind of awesome), but the stupid banter, the fact that he can just effortlessly bounce off of him without even thinking. They've been in a rhythm for ages now, and it almost never gets off track. ]
no subject
[ His expression is completely straight as he goes walking along, head tilted towards him with amused interest.
It's true. The banter was always there, even before the feelings for each other had developed, and the fact that it still stays? Is probably one of the brighter parts of everything, to be honest. (Yes, the sex is awesome, but it's only one piece to the whole thing that they are.) ]
By then, you'll be pretty limbered up, too. We can see just how flexible you are today.
1/2
no subject
Well that's going to make running difficult as hell.
no subject
[ And Derek just grins pleasantly at him as he heads past. ]
no subject
[ He calls that out cheerfully and
boner walkshurries out after him, tugging the door shut and double timing out the door. There's going to need to be some epic payback when this is all over.He pauses out by the mailbox and tightens his shoelaces though, ready to take off whenever Derek does.]
no subject
[ There's no doubt in his mind that he's going to get Stiles' infamous brand of payback at some point, but honestly? Derek wouldn't provoke him if he wasn't looking forward to it, in some way. It's always fun to rile him up.
He shifts his weight back and forth, examining the neighborhood in silence for a moment before he moves. ]
no subject
They haven't really been there long enough to get mail, but she can't help being curious. It's been years since she last had a real mailing address, and even then, it hadn't been for very long.
She offers the both of them a warm half smile, reaching back to pull her hair in a tail so it won't hinder her during her own run.]
Fancy meeting the two of you here.
no subject
Running at seven am's part of that whole Satanic cult thing where you're from too, huh.
no subject
Does your cult branch sacrifice chickens after the run, or goats?
[ His comment is completely dry, but almost indulgent. As if he's completely given up on correcting Stiles and telling him to stop. (He has.) ]
no subject
You bet it is. I think there's something about it in the rulebooks? All the branches adhere to it.
[In all honesty, she hates exercise, and thinner thighs is not nearly enough incentive for the torture she puts herself through. It's all about being able to outrun things bigger and badder than her should the need arise -- which it often has. Exercising isn't so bad when she can get Dean to run with her, but those instances are few and far between.
Jerk eats like a horse and never puts on a pound. It was extremely unfair, really.]
I'm partial to chickens. Less mess.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)