What does that make you, I wonder. [ Stiles definitely started it. But either way, Derek isn't too bothered by this. In fact, he's more than happy with it. He leans over Stiles easily, just barely resting a hand in the mud to keep his balance as the Southron leans back from him. His hair sticks up in every direction because of the mud, flattened in other places, and he can feel it caking on him everywhere. His lupa doesn't look much better, but there's something about the fact that he's covered head to toe in mud with an equally messy nest of hair that's incredibly attractive.
So it's easy to kiss him back, soft smile still intact and pressed against Stiles'. He lifts both hands up, cradling Stiles' face and kissing him slow, almost languid. And it doesn't taste like ash or smoke, like old memories that drag him down like a stone. Because loss does that, and now he has this-- he has a pack that's closer to him, has Stiles, and he's happier than he ever thought he'd be again. ]
Two and a half. [ He smiles primly at Derek, even if the effect is completely ruined by the mud caked on his cheeks, covering his spots completely. He needs another dip, and so does Derek, but he's not about to move when he's kissing him like that.
His hands wrap around Derek's shoulders for a moment, one coming to rest loosely over the triskele on Derek's back, automatically, even if he's not seeking it out. He can practically feel Derek smiling against his mouth, and it's wondrous and crazy all at once, the kind of thing he's going to feel like he can't get enough of, like he's a junkie. (At least he can admit to it.)
When he does finally pull away, it's barely away from the kiss, mouth still pressed lightly to his. ] Dude, if we stay here, I'm going to get stuck.
[ He can't help but laugh softly against his lips, smile still intact-- and he feels like it's not going to go anywhere any time soon. Not so long as Stiles is around. Funny, how he thought at first that he'd want to leave him in the wilds of the North and now he was the only patch of summer in the eternal winter.
His thumbs sweep along his cheeks, clearing some of the mud from them but only to smear it elsewhere unintentionally. They really do need to get back into the water proper and try to get the mud off, but he's not inclined to move right away. Not when he can just kiss Stiles and have this again.
A faint rumble leaves him in a laugh, quiet against Stiles' lips as he opens his eyes to look at him again. ] I'll pull you out.
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So it's easy to kiss him back, soft smile still intact and pressed against Stiles'. He lifts both hands up, cradling Stiles' face and kissing him slow, almost languid. And it doesn't taste like ash or smoke, like old memories that drag him down like a stone. Because loss does that, and now he has this-- he has a pack that's closer to him, has Stiles, and he's happier than he ever thought he'd be again. ]
no subject
His hands wrap around Derek's shoulders for a moment, one coming to rest loosely over the triskele on Derek's back, automatically, even if he's not seeking it out. He can practically feel Derek smiling against his mouth, and it's wondrous and crazy all at once, the kind of thing he's going to feel like he can't get enough of, like he's a junkie. (At least he can admit to it.)
When he does finally pull away, it's barely away from the kiss, mouth still pressed lightly to his. ] Dude, if we stay here, I'm going to get stuck.
no subject
His thumbs sweep along his cheeks, clearing some of the mud from them but only to smear it elsewhere unintentionally. They really do need to get back into the water proper and try to get the mud off, but he's not inclined to move right away. Not when he can just kiss Stiles and have this again.
A faint rumble leaves him in a laugh, quiet against Stiles' lips as he opens his eyes to look at him again. ] I'll pull you out.