Oh, yeah. [ the sidhe pauses for a second and peers over derek's shoulders, now actually floating off that inch or so off of the ground in order to see. he mostly just uses derek's huge form as a jungle gym though, finding his arm to use as a support as he looks at the plates. right. those are done. ]
I guess. [ reluctantly untangling himself from the circle of his arms, stiles squirms out of them and picks up a plate, offering it to derek and grinning at him, nothing but joy in those big brown eyes. best puka's day ever. ] Don't look at it like that, it's not going to bite you. Not this time.
You guess. [ Hardly bothered by having Stiles literally pressed into his personal space, using him as a jungle gym-- not the first time he has-- Derek simply slides his hands along his back, comfortable with the proximity. Once upon a time, maybe, but certainly not now.
Unfolding his arms as he squirms, he lets Stiles retrieve the plates, eyeballing the one that he's offered before he actually takes it from him. It's really the look on his face and the brightness of his eyes that has him taking it, not the reassurance. ] Not this time.
Didn't realize faoladh could become parrots. I thought that was my job. [ His teasing isn't really mean spirited, despite the smirk on his face, and the puka floats backwards, drifting a little aimlessly as he holds out his other arm, gesturing at Derek's little house. ]
Where to? [ Seriously, it's the puka's day. Derek gets whatever he wants. He could play one hell of a trick on him if he really wanted to, but Stiles trusts Derek to the point that he probably won't totally torment him. One year, someone tried to stick him in a cage when they found out.
It was unpleasant, to say the least--but that's not a problem with the faoladh. Instead, Stiles just hovers beside him, lazily floating through the air and letting Derek direct him around. ]
Your job is to be an obnoxious pest. [ Still, he reaches as Stiles starts floating around, balancing the plate on one hand while the other curls loosely around the sidhe's wrist. For as much as he knows Stiles could be up to something, he still trusts him-- after all this time, it was hard-earned despite being so unexpected. He's not letting go of it, or him.
He does, in fact, direct him, guiding him along like he's suddenly in possession of a kite. Again, it's not for the first time, yet it'll never not be amusing. ]
364 days of the year. [ He doesn't even mind being tethered so much--in fact, Stiles drifts a little closer to him, floating a little closer to the ground, even, and allowing Derek to guide him wherever he wants to go. The way he loves Derek is basically kind of staggering, actually, because for a creature that is supposed to be immortal, he's never quite had the chance to feel anything so human before.
He hasn't voiced that to him, not yet, but it will come in time.
(Especially if he asks, today. Stiles has been looking for a good excuse.)
Cocking his head so the feathers in his hair shift, he looks down at him. ] Well?
You could stand to take a few more vacation days, I think. [ His thumb rubs a little into the thin skin of Stiles' wrist, and he feels the warmth of his blood beneath it, thrumming and alive. Every now and then, he's taken the form of a black hare, golden eyes bright and alert and his heartbeat actually fit for his body.
He could recognize it anywhere, and here? Here, it feels almost fleeting in comparison to their very long lives. They're not going to grow old, not the way that mortals do-- hell, they already are old-- and he might...
Well, he would like to continue to grow old with his trickster. ]
Here. [ The faoladh draws him to where his bed is set up, practically a nest of furs and quilts, and steps up onto it so he can take a seat amongst it. ]
Ohhhh--[ The puka gasps, mock shocked, and brings his plate to his chest since he doesn't have a free hand. The tone of voice he uses is saccharine sweet, like Derek just gave him the vapors. ] The nest. I never thought in all my years I'd ever get to be invited to the nest.
[ Grinning at his own (not really funny) joke, Stiles sets down his plate next to the furs and floats downwards again, cross legged, settling between Derek's legs instead of beside him. Then, he brings the plate to follow, hovering an inch or two off of his knees, and goes to chow down. ]
[ Rolling his eyes at Stiles' dramatics, Derek simply gets comfortable, nudging his elbows against the bedding in lieu of patting and bunching and adjusting everything as he normally would. (It is, hilariously, reminiscent of a dog circling on their bed and nosing at it to make sure it's comfortable.) ]
Eat your food, Stiles. [ There's no complaints when Stiles takes a seat between his legs. Rather, he just shifts a bit so that he can pillow his legs with his own, bent slightly while he sets the plate down in Stiles' lap. If he's going to inhabit his space, he's going to be put to use. ]
[ stiles does at least have the courtesy to wait for derek to get comfortable, and even resists cracking a joke about the set up of his bedroom. derek is a wolf, and it's hard to forget that, but stiles definitely prefers silly reminders like this than sharp teeth and rending flesh.
not that derek's planned on rending his flesh for a long time, but still. it adds an element of thrill to their games.
at the moment, maybe the domestic is more suiting, considering. the puka leans backwards into his arms and forks his pancakes, taking a bite and chewing contentedly. deeming it apparently satisfying, he stabs another piece off of derek's plate and offers it to him. ] See, look, poison tested.
[ There's an amused sort of gratitude that Stiles at least lets him get comfortable, even if it's not the entire rigamarole that he usually goes through to do it. He sleeps in an actual nest, tucked away amongst furs. (But the furs remind him of when he used to sleep with his pack, bunched amongst breathing, warm bodies covered in fur.) It's a softer thing, one that he's happy to share with Stiles, as compared to bared teeth.
Though the bared teeth aren't particularly foreign, considering their games. Especially before they became games to Derek.
Rolling his eyes at the comment, he still curls one arm around the puka's middle and opens his mouth as the food is offered to him. Not that he thinks Stiles would poison anyone, that's a little too malevolent for him. He's just... chaotic, that's all. ]
Well? [ the puca grins at him as he feeds him a bite of the omelettes--stiles has always been a pretty good cook, one of those neat tricks you learn from being a puca. you have to feed yourself eventually, and more often than not, when stiles found a village he really liked, he'd end up helping the people in it.
(so long as they paid their share, of course.)
he'd done the same here, gently turning away wandering children from the lakeside and keeping crops healthy and bountiful--the pieces of his share he'd gathered grew smaller and smaller each year, until nowadays, he was just a rumor around town. and that was because, truly, the young puca had found his share, sitting right here with him, eating his food. derek was all he really needed in life, and it was kind of nice.
once he's sure he's satisfied, stiles leans backwards comfortably against his chest and grabs his own plate from midair, starting to down the eggs.]
[ Unlike Stiles, the faoladh chews in silence with his mouth closed for a long moment. But when he finishes, he tilts his head over into his, just the briefest bunt that becomes a small nuzzle as he swallows. Another moment of silence, and then he gives him a nod. ] Definitely not poisoned.
[ It's obviously teasing, and Derek adjusts his arms to let him get comfortable against him, reaching around him so that he can access his own food. The arrangement is a good one, one that he wouldn't really change for anything these days. The village is prospering, with both a faoladh and a puca to watch over it, and the chaos of his pranks and meaner tricks have since died down.
Derek's not stupid, he knows that he's become the puca's share. But he doesn't mind it, if it makes Stiles happy, because it makes him happy. Not something he ever expected to have, but all the same. He has it. ]
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I guess. [ reluctantly untangling himself from the circle of his arms, stiles squirms out of them and picks up a plate, offering it to derek and grinning at him, nothing but joy in those big brown eyes. best puka's day ever. ] Don't look at it like that, it's not going to bite you. Not this time.
no subject
Unfolding his arms as he squirms, he lets Stiles retrieve the plates, eyeballing the one that he's offered before he actually takes it from him. It's really the look on his face and the brightness of his eyes that has him taking it, not the reassurance. ] Not this time.
HAPPY ST PATTYS HAVE SOME IRISH SIDHE
Where to? [ Seriously, it's the puka's day. Derek gets whatever he wants. He could play one hell of a trick on him if he really wanted to, but Stiles trusts Derek to the point that he probably won't totally torment him. One year, someone tried to stick him in a cage when they found out.
It was unpleasant, to say the least--but that's not a problem with the faoladh. Instead, Stiles just hovers beside him, lazily floating through the air and letting Derek direct him around. ]
EYYYY
He does, in fact, direct him, guiding him along like he's suddenly in possession of a kite. Again, it's not for the first time, yet it'll never not be amusing. ]
If you're leaving it up to me...
no subject
He hasn't voiced that to him, not yet, but it will come in time.
(Especially if he asks, today. Stiles has been looking for a good excuse.)
Cocking his head so the feathers in his hair shift, he looks down at him. ] Well?
no subject
He could recognize it anywhere, and here? Here, it feels almost fleeting in comparison to their very long lives. They're not going to grow old, not the way that mortals do-- hell, they already are old-- and he might...
Well, he would like to continue to grow old with his trickster. ]
Here. [ The faoladh draws him to where his bed is set up, practically a nest of furs and quilts, and steps up onto it so he can take a seat amongst it. ]
no subject
[ Grinning at his own (not really funny) joke, Stiles sets down his plate next to the furs and floats downwards again, cross legged, settling between Derek's legs instead of beside him. Then, he brings the plate to follow, hovering an inch or two off of his knees, and goes to chow down. ]
no subject
Eat your food, Stiles. [ There's no complaints when Stiles takes a seat between his legs. Rather, he just shifts a bit so that he can pillow his legs with his own, bent slightly while he sets the plate down in Stiles' lap. If he's going to inhabit his space, he's going to be put to use. ]
c:
not that derek's planned on rending his flesh for a long time, but still. it adds an element of thrill to their games.
at the moment, maybe the domestic is more suiting, considering. the puka leans backwards into his arms and forks his pancakes, taking a bite and chewing contentedly. deeming it apparently satisfying, he stabs another piece off of derek's plate and offers it to him. ] See, look, poison tested.
pucaladh pucaladh
Though the bared teeth aren't particularly foreign, considering their games. Especially before they became games to Derek.
Rolling his eyes at the comment, he still curls one arm around the puka's middle and opens his mouth as the food is offered to him. Not that he thinks Stiles would poison anyone, that's a little too malevolent for him. He's just... chaotic, that's all. ]
best.
(so long as they paid their share, of course.)
he'd done the same here, gently turning away wandering children from the lakeside and keeping crops healthy and bountiful--the pieces of his share he'd gathered grew smaller and smaller each year, until nowadays, he was just a rumor around town. and that was because, truly, the young puca had found his share, sitting right here with him, eating his food. derek was all he really needed in life, and it was kind of nice.
once he's sure he's satisfied, stiles leans backwards comfortably against his chest and grabs his own plate from midair, starting to down the eggs.]
no subject
[ It's obviously teasing, and Derek adjusts his arms to let him get comfortable against him, reaching around him so that he can access his own food. The arrangement is a good one, one that he wouldn't really change for anything these days. The village is prospering, with both a faoladh and a puca to watch over it, and the chaos of his pranks and meaner tricks have since died down.
Derek's not stupid, he knows that he's become the puca's share. But he doesn't mind it, if it makes Stiles happy, because it makes him happy. Not something he ever expected to have, but all the same. He has it. ]