[ 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.]
Gotta be. [ As he glances down at Anita and leans against the mailbox, an idea forms. Okay, it's a pretty nonthreatening idea, and it'd actually be pretty fun--plus it gives them a chance to get to know Anita a little better.
Eat your heart out, Mrs. Johnson.] --You wanna come running with us? Derek kicks my ass every time so it might be nice to have an actual, y'know, jogging partner.
You keep up pretty well, all things considered. [ It's obvious overall that Derek is a little distracted, his attention moving from them as he looks out at the neighborhood again. He's listening to everything around them still, taking note of the changes and making sure that nothing is off. The entire cul-de-sac actually has its own routine, so it's good to know that it seems to be fairly normal. ]
I apologize in advance if the neighbors all decide to rubberneck from their houses, though. They seem to like doing that every time we go running.
[ A dry comment, but he's glancing off to where Mrs. Johnson is observing from her kitchen window. Without a word, he raises a hand in greeting. Eat your heart out, indeed. ]
Taking in the view like only a bunch of little old ladies lasciviously staring at someone who looks like they're made out of marble can. [ Stiles pats Derek's stomach and smiles brightly, jerking his head towards the forest. ] Unfortunately for them, this is a straight up museum exhibit, and I'm the guy who gets to polish the statue once every couple of months. [ And then he laughs. ]
Totally not intruding! We go for a mile both ways down through the forest. Maybe we can tag team Derek and actually beat him at something.
[ As Stiles pats at his stomach, Derek notably rolls his eyes but doesn't turn his attention fully towards him just yet. Everything seems all right, and so far the woods seem a safe option right now-- besides, it's not like any of them are going alone. ]
Probably not, but it's always worth a try.
[ The innuendo remains unaddressed for now, before he looks to Anita and offers her a slight quirk at the corner of his mouth. ]
More the merrier-- we're up every morning except Sunday, because someone decided to pass a law regarding exercising on Sundays.
[Anita chokes back a laugh at the innuendo. A couple of years ago, she would have been red in the face, but now she had the grace to be amused. Extensive time spent in Dean Winchester's company had been enough to desensitize her to a hell of a lot of things that used to make her blush.]
Aw, how cute. It's like having a trophy husband.
[She grins, bracing one hand against her waist and cocking her hips to the side as she turns her attention to Derek. Two miles? Very doable. She was used to doing four -- alone. Two with company was a hell of a lot more enjoyable.]
I may have to make a habit of tagging along some mornings, then. I've got that same rule, by the way.
[She gives Stiles a nod of approval, forcing a somber expression. It isn't entirely convincing.]
Basically I don't believe in doing anything I don't feel like on Sundays.
[She still went to church, though, whenever she could make it. Alone, but she went.]
And he cooks, too. [ Stiles winks at her for that comment, elbowing Derek in the chest lightly, then runs a hand over his own hair, jerking his head towards the path. ]
Thank you! That's how it should be. It's the lay on your ass and do nothing day, period. [ He laughs and waves over towards the forest. ] Ready to go?
I also double as a sugar daddy. [ Derek's comment is completely dry as he comes back to the conversation at large, actually paying attention now that his preliminary scan of the neighborhood has yielded nothing amiss. Thankfully-- having the threat right in the heart of his territory is something he doesn't want.
He rolls his eyes at them both in regards to not doing anything on Sundays, adding a slight shift of his head in it as well. But he's been coerced rather convincingly into staying in bed with Stiles when it comes to Sunday mornings. ]
You two will get along just fine. [ Rolling his head with an actual purpose, he cracks his neck and shoulders before looking to the forest. ]
[Oh, she likes both of you. She nods, rolling her right shoulder back in its socket a couple of times to loosen it. She'd already stretched before coming outside, glad to have a nice, clean, non-skeevy living room carpet to do it on rather than the floor of a seedy motel room.
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[ 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.
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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. ]
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[ 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
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Well that's going to make running difficult as hell.
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[ And Derek just grins pleasantly at him as he heads past. ]
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[ 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.]
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[ 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. ]
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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.
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Running at seven am's part of that whole Satanic cult thing where you're from too, huh.
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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.) ]
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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.
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Eat your heart out, Mrs. Johnson.] --You wanna come running with us? Derek kicks my ass every time so it might be nice to have an actual, y'know, jogging partner.
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I apologize in advance if the neighbors all decide to rubberneck from their houses, though. They seem to like doing that every time we go running.
[ A dry comment, but he's glancing off to where Mrs. Johnson is observing from her kitchen window. Without a word, he raises a hand in greeting. Eat your heart out, indeed. ]
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I take it they're enjoying the view, rather than just being really overenthusiastic athletic supporters.
[She smiles at Stiles a moment later, shrugging easily.]
If you're sure I'm not intruding, yeah, I'd love to. Running alone gets pretty old, but skipping it isn't much of an option.
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Totally not intruding! We go for a mile both ways down through the forest. Maybe we can tag team Derek and actually beat him at something.
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Probably not, but it's always worth a try.
[ The innuendo remains unaddressed for now, before he looks to Anita and offers her a slight quirk at the corner of his mouth. ]
More the merrier-- we're up every morning except Sunday, because someone decided to pass a law regarding exercising on Sundays.
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Aw, how cute. It's like having a trophy husband.
[She grins, bracing one hand against her waist and cocking her hips to the side as she turns her attention to Derek. Two miles? Very doable. She was used to doing four -- alone. Two with company was a hell of a lot more enjoyable.]
I may have to make a habit of tagging along some mornings, then. I've got that same rule, by the way.
[She gives Stiles a nod of approval, forcing a somber expression. It isn't entirely convincing.]
Basically I don't believe in doing anything I don't feel like on Sundays.
[She still went to church, though, whenever she could make it. Alone, but she went.]
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Thank you! That's how it should be. It's the lay on your ass and do nothing day, period. [ He laughs and waves over towards the forest. ] Ready to go?
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He rolls his eyes at them both in regards to not doing anything on Sundays, adding a slight shift of his head in it as well. But he's been coerced rather convincingly into staying in bed with Stiles when it comes to Sunday mornings. ]
You two will get along just fine. [ Rolling his head with an actual purpose, he cracks his neck and shoulders before looking to the forest. ]
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[Oh, she likes both of you. She nods, rolling her right shoulder back in its socket a couple of times to loosen it. She'd already stretched before coming outside, glad to have a nice, clean, non-skeevy living room carpet to do it on rather than the floor of a seedy motel room.
She could get used to this pretty damn fast.]
Ready when you guys are. Let's go.