[ John watches Derek go before he looks back at Stiles, ridiculous eyebrows raising and grin nearly cracking his face in two. Well, he could say from experience that Stiles was a fast learner, but this is just... that was... Hell, even he doesn't have words to quite describe everything, and he's about as much of a chatterbox as Stiles, if not worse because of how far gone he is. ] He's going to chuck you into the Rift himself.
[ But he just laughs bright and sudden, getting up to his feet properly and offering his dear sweet suicidal protege both of his hands to get him standing again. ] Come on, before you're permanently attached to the floor.
[ Meanwhile, Derek goes to take a seat on one of the steps outside the mat and takes a moment to ignore Laura, grabbing his boots so he can pull them on again. He laces up one before he looks up at her from under his brow, knotting the laces securely.
For a brief second he breaks eye contact, looks over to where his sister's boytoy is helping Stiles up to his feet, then looks back at her. There's no denial or attempts to push off the "innocent" look, for once, because it was fairly obvious to everyone that stuck around for the whole hour that there was definitely something there. ] Yes?
[ Stiles laughs at his comment, but it's more of a "it's only funny because its definitely true" kind of laugh, and lets John pull him to his feet, which-- ] Ohhh my god, ow.
[ If whoever was left in the room wasn't laughing at him before, they sure as hell were now; he winces almost comically and leans on John for support. Everything hurts, and hurts like hell too, and he can feel all the spots where Derek hit him, or flipped him, or knocked him with the staff just throbbing in pain. He hobbles alongside John back towards the lab, or his dorms, or somewhere to avoid the inevitable talk that's coming.
Laura, on the other hand, is grinning like an absolute maniac. She didnt learn that from John--just perfected it. ] So. [ Be afraid of this tone of voice. ] Stiles Styyyylinski.
You did it, champ. You went four rounds with Derek Hale and tied. [ John shifts, glad for their similar heights so he can easily sling Stiles' arm around his shoulders, putting his own around him to help him along. That shit looked like it hurt, and Stiles is paying for it now. But still, he just gathers his things from mat-side with his free hand and makes for the dorms. ] Now you just have to go up against your dad.
[ He pauses, sniffs dramatically. ] And shower.
[ As his expression mirrors Laura's, Derek quietly wonders whose bright idea if was that the two of them meet. He eyes her briefly before pulling on his other boot, working on slowly lacing it up. Maybe he hits a whole hell of a lot harder than Stiles, but it's not as if he's not feeling those strikes that he landed, the exertion from the multiple fights. ] Is that his name?
I tied Derek Hale. [ He says it again like he doesn't believe it--because to be honest, he doesn't--and Stiles runs a hand through his thick hair, groaning a little at the mention of his dad again. Right, he's dead. He's totally dead. For now he can at least hopefully have a shower and then die. ] Bury me naked so my funeral's awkward for everyone involved.
[ The tension dissolves and he breaks into a grin, locking an arm around John's shoulders on purpose. Mmmm sweaty college student. ]
[ Laura is looking a little like a pleased shark as she leans against the wall behind him, arms crossed and bouncing a little on her toes as she looks up at the ceiling, letting him put on his boots. ] It is. You know, like the director of MPs, my boss! Stilinski. It's an easy name to remember.
[ God bless Stiles Stilinski, the little shit. John can understand his shock, at least, and just barely resists squeezing where he's holding him up. It's tempting, though, especially when he locks around his shoulders. That's absolutely disgusting, but then again he regularly spends his time up to his elbows in Kaiju guts, so he's seen worse. This is just humanity, and he jostles him gently in retribution. ] I'll make sure to do just that. And I'll weep over your coffin just to make it even better.
Woe is me, my assistant has been slain! [ He wails down the hall, loud enough for the Hales to hear even from a distance.
Derek can't help but roll his eyes. At least John has a sense of humor to make up for him and Cora. Shifting, he rocks up to his feet with a soft grunt, tapping the toes of his boots into the floor after. If he could drag this out until Laura lost interest, that would be great. But it's Laura. ] So I should be expecting a stern talking to when he's done ripping into his kid.
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[ But he just laughs bright and sudden, getting up to his feet properly and offering his dear sweet suicidal protege both of his hands to get him standing again. ] Come on, before you're permanently attached to the floor.
[ Meanwhile, Derek goes to take a seat on one of the steps outside the mat and takes a moment to ignore Laura, grabbing his boots so he can pull them on again. He laces up one before he looks up at her from under his brow, knotting the laces securely.
For a brief second he breaks eye contact, looks over to where his sister's boytoy is helping Stiles up to his feet, then looks back at her. There's no denial or attempts to push off the "innocent" look, for once, because it was fairly obvious to everyone that stuck around for the whole hour that there was definitely something there. ] Yes?
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[ If whoever was left in the room wasn't laughing at him before, they sure as hell were now; he winces almost comically and leans on John for support. Everything hurts, and hurts like hell too, and he can feel all the spots where Derek hit him, or flipped him, or knocked him with the staff just throbbing in pain. He hobbles alongside John back towards the lab, or his dorms, or somewhere to avoid the inevitable talk that's coming.
Laura, on the other hand, is grinning like an absolute maniac. She didnt learn that from John--just perfected it. ] So. [ Be afraid of this tone of voice. ] Stiles Styyyylinski.
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[ He pauses, sniffs dramatically. ] And shower.
[ As his expression mirrors Laura's, Derek quietly wonders whose bright idea if was that the two of them meet. He eyes her briefly before pulling on his other boot, working on slowly lacing it up. Maybe he hits a whole hell of a lot harder than Stiles, but it's not as if he's not feeling those strikes that he landed, the exertion from the multiple fights. ] Is that his name?
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[ The tension dissolves and he breaks into a grin, locking an arm around John's shoulders on purpose. Mmmm sweaty college student. ]
[ Laura is looking a little like a pleased shark as she leans against the wall behind him, arms crossed and bouncing a little on her toes as she looks up at the ceiling, letting him put on his boots. ] It is. You know, like the director of MPs, my boss! Stilinski. It's an easy name to remember.
no subject
Woe is me, my assistant has been slain! [ He wails down the hall, loud enough for the Hales to hear even from a distance.
Derek can't help but roll his eyes. At least John has a sense of humor to make up for him and Cora. Shifting, he rocks up to his feet with a soft grunt, tapping the toes of his boots into the floor after. If he could drag this out until Laura lost interest, that would be great. But it's Laura. ] So I should be expecting a stern talking to when he's done ripping into his kid.