[ That is, of course, said against Stiles' neck, which negates any namecalling that he might partake in completely. It's sort of funny that they can sit like this, affection shared in banter and slow growth. A part of him wants to open his mouth to Stiles' skin, the wild instincts that thrum in his blood, so that he can leave a mark on the warm, pale neck beneath his mouth.
But he doesn't. Instead, he sits and enjoys the quiet of the moment, closing his eyes and letting himself smile. Even if Stiles can't see it, he knows he'll feel it.
And he doesn't care. Not when they've come to the point they have. ] Funny, I feel like you've perfected that yourself.
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[ That is, of course, said against Stiles' neck, which negates any namecalling that he might partake in completely. It's sort of funny that they can sit like this, affection shared in banter and slow growth. A part of him wants to open his mouth to Stiles' skin, the wild instincts that thrum in his blood, so that he can leave a mark on the warm, pale neck beneath his mouth.
But he doesn't. Instead, he sits and enjoys the quiet of the moment, closing his eyes and letting himself smile. Even if Stiles can't see it, he knows he'll feel it.
And he doesn't care. Not when they've come to the point they have. ] Funny, I feel like you've perfected that yourself.