[ 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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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. ]