[ It had been so long, since Derek was last in combat. He'd been down in ground zero for multiple attacks on California, helping people in the midst of chaos, but it was different being on eye level with the monsters again. Maybe it'd been years since he commanded a Jaeger, but it was so easy to just fall in step again, as if Garou remembered him, too, and accepted her new copilot with just as much ease. Fighting with Stiles at his side was literally like they were one entity, so in sync and seamless.
(He could only laugh when Stiles threw their arms up.)
And then there was the separation. In all of the excitement, the adrenaline and the rush, the victory, he'd almost forgotten about it. But years after drifting with another person, especially in a Jaeger during combat, and then suddenly doing it again with someone you discovered so much chemistry with? It struck hard, the moment that the connection was taken away. He'd spent the better part of the day just wanting to reach out and touch Stiles, even if all he could do was curl his fingers around his wrist. But he kept his hands to himself, even with the empty ache. It wasn't painful, but it was longing. There were people around them all the way up until they'd finally gone to their quarters, and yet he just felt alone again.
Still does, at three in the morning. At least until he hears the knock, swinging his legs around so he can get off his bunk and move to open the door. ] ... Stiles.
[ Oh fuck, now he has to say something, doesn't he? There's a surge of warm affection that practically socks him in the chest the minute Derek opens the door, because he sounds--happy to see him, almost? Maybe Derek was feeling the exact same thing that Stiles was, after all.
(Or at least in some degrees. Stiles tends to fall for people hard and fast, and being literally in said person's brain for several hours doesn't really help that fact at all.)
Feeling a little self conscious, he flushes at the ears and drops his arms down, tugging on the edge of his shirt to keep and down and trying to not look the bumbling idiot he kind of feels like. A part of him wants to just reach out and touch, anywhere, anyhow, and yet another part wants to run back to his room and forget this ever happened until Derek forgot it happened too. But he puts on a small, kind of lopsided smile, because one side beats out the other, and starts out a little awkwardly. ] I, uh. My bed's hella uncomfortable. This standard issue thing's gotta change now that we're celebrities, right?
[ #nailed it
He doesn't sound remotely entitled or anything. Just sheepish. Maybe a little nervous. ]
[ Derek leans a shoulder against his doorframe as he takes in Stiles' appearance, tension slowly easing out of him as he angles his head towards his copilot. As if he wants to come closer but is holding himself stationary.
Snorting softly, he can't help the half fond, half amused look that comes across his expression. The fidgeting and sheepishness, the little smile, soothe the ache in him, just enough that it's not as strong as it had been over the course of the day. It's something small, but it's still enough to remind him that things don't have to be as difficult as he makes them out to be. ]
Shit out of luck, sorry. You'll have to cheat like I did and bring in your own mattress. [ He pushes his door open a little further where he's still holding it, as if to show Stiles said mattress. It's a little bigger than the frame where it should be sitting in, making it dip in the center while the edges stick up, and he's pretty sure it would look a thousand times better with Stiles in it. ]
Can't say I'm too against the idea of sharing, though. [ Absolutely actually did nail it. ]
[ Oh that looks fantastic. He's seriously considering just straight up zooming in under Derek's arm and locking him out of he says no, because Stiles had a really nice bed back in Beacon Hills before he moved out to work with K-Science and honestly, he could try and come up with five plans to distract him before anything happened, but then Derek had to go and actually say what he was kind of hoping for in the first place.
Needless to say, he's thrown for a loop, because nothing ever goes the way Stiles plans it, so where his mouth is open, he shuts it with an audible click. ] Oh my god, thank you.
[ Which doesn't really mean thanks for the bed so much as thanks for totally getting it. ] That--yes. Yeah, yes. That sounds awesome.
[ He steps up the second step, putting him almost chest to chest with Derek, though, because maybe he wanted that touch just as badly, too. It's settling. Comforting. Home. ]
[ A laugh startles out of him, enough that it shakes his shoulders where he's standing, and Derek just watches the process of Stiles' reaction in response to what he says. He likes this better, likes having Stiles right there and within reach, close enough to pull forward and without his typical barriers that he has during the day. That they both have during the day. So there's absolutely no way that he would turn Stiles back around to his quarters, because that's too far away.
Instead of moving away as Stiles steps closer, he bows his head forward towards him further, until he can rest their foreheads together for a moment. He more than gets it, honestly.
And something in him relaxes even further at the contact, small as it is. It's a start, and it's what he's been needing all day since they emerged from Garou's con-pod. ]
[ Something just relaxes as Derek comes closer, and whatever nerves he had started to settle down almost instantaneously--the urge to say something gets tamped down, too, enough that he can just stop and enjoy the contact. There's not a lot of pretense that gets in the way when you've been in the drift, and this hallway is just as quiet as the bridge they crossed earlier that morning, when all that was there was Derek, his memories, and the faint hummings of Loup Garou's workings in the background. The drift was silence, the three in the morning bonding outside of someone's doorstep, and when Stiles shuts his mouth again, his shoulders slump and he lets his eyes close.
And one hand comes out just to rest on his arm, long fingers spreading out over a bicep as he takes a deep breath, doesn't break the contact and feels that hollowness from earlier in the day starting to fill in again. When Stiles does speak up, it's quieter, and he mumbles, ] I am totally standing out here in my underwear, sooooo.
[ But even as that flush creeps over his cheeks, he laughs anyway, softly, and flutters his eyes back open. ]
[ Releasing his door and bringing his hand around, Derek sets it at Stiles' waist as he feels those long fingers curl against his skin, like it's a direct contact from the point of contact to that emptiness left behind by the drift. Soothed, he watches as Stiles closes his eyes, scanning his face a moment. He's seen so many expressions flash across that face, seen every emotion in memories new and old, and a very big part of him hopes he'll get to see it everyday from here on out now.
He hasn't felt that way in a long time about anyone, and all it took was a practice fight turned into a well-tuned dance.
Expression curling into a smile, he finally closes his eyes and returns the quiet laugh. ]
It's three in the morning, I don't think you have much to worry about. [ Still, where his fingers are curled at his hip, he gives a small pull on the familiar shirt. With it, he takes a few steps back and into his dorm again, barely breaking contact where their foreheads touch as he moves. ]
[ Stiles usually tends to complain about being manhandled, but in this case, not so much. He makes a "whup" noise when he gets pulled inside but follows along with it with no fighting whatsoever, even nudging the door shut with his heel when stumbles in after him. His coordination isn't the best but it seems to be getting better with every practice drift he and Derek have had, like Derek's rubbing off on him. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise him--Stiles has studied the drift to know enough about the velcro effect.
His other hand ends up getting a grip on Derek's shirt near his chest, both hands curling into their points like an anchor as he jokingly overreacts to the statement, even if it's lowly, like a private joke. ] Yeah, says you, until someone comes running down the hall and takes a picture for the entire shatterdome to see. They'll hang it up next to the war clock.
[ He doesn't break the contact either, and by the time they're fully in the room, he settles in the same place again, feeling vaguely like a teenager trying to make out while your parents are gone again. ]
[ The fact that Stiles seems to have gained a little grace since they first started drifting hasn't been lost on Derek. Usually he's about as coordinated as a baby gazelle at their worst, but it's gotten to the point that he moves smoothly, surely. It's always been fascinating to watch copilots grow like that, becoming a single entity even outside of their Jaegers. It also warms something in him, because that's a piece of him that's going to stay with Stiles for a long time. Something that lingers.
Still, there are a couple things that are usually considered downsides to the velcro effect. This is one of them, where he just wants to put his hands everywhere, pull Stiles into him. ]
We'll suffer together. [ Reply very similar in tone, low and joking and distinctly amused, he brings his other hand up and around the back of Stiles' shoulder. Anchored together, his smile spreads a little more, straight line of his nose bumping into the upturn of Stiles'. ]
You won't be the one in your underwear on the freakin' wall clock! [ He points that one out with a little bit of indignity, even if it's joking, because it's totally true, okay. Of the two of them, Derek's a lot smoother and less likely to be embarrassed. ] If they hung you up there you'd look like one of those Calvin Klein ads.
[ His diarrhea of the mouth also seems to be getting the better of him lately, and Stiles decides that's probably a good point to stop talking, snapping his mouth shut and focusing on the touch between them instead. It's nice, soothing, a physical connection in place of a mental one, and he slides his arms up to wrap around his shoulders instead, returning the bump once he's made his point and pulling away to tuck his nose into Derek's neck, holding onto him like a rock in the middle of the ocean. ]
[ Unable to keep in another abrupt laugh, he lets the corners of his expression scrunch up in blatant humor, just picturing how the entire situation would go down if someone did in fact get a picture of them to slap up. At least he opened the door with a shirt on this time. ] Calvin Klein's not my type.
[ Not like anyone who's seen him in the circuitry suit or their armor doesn't know what he means by that, but anyways. Derek's shoulders shake a little as Stiles snaps his mouth shut, adjusting where he's holding onto him as he settles into place again. One arm slips around his waist, secure and steady, while the other curls around his shoulders. Even as Stiles tucks into his neck, he stays relaxed, tipping his head to rub his cheek briefly against his hair before he's turning it to bury his nose into it. ]
[ It feels like victory when Derek laughs, and he tucks a smile into his shoulder, relishing in the physical connection again. It's like refilling an empty gas tank or charging a battery, and there's nothing even remotely weird about the fact that this feels like the safest place in the world right now.
Stiles does, however, roll his eyes at the comment because really. ] Semantics. Are you Lebron James? No. [ Because then you could be in an Under Armor ad. Although, they'd probably take Jaeger pilots nowadays. They were kind of hot commodities, literally, and Derek sorta took the cake in that. Stiles' underwear pictures are awkward. Derek's could be model spreads.
Breathing in from his place tucked into his neck, he mutters-- ] I can feel you laughing at me. Weren't we going to sleep?
Lebron James couldn't pilot a Jaeger to save his life. [ Murmuring into his hair, Derek makes a quietly pleased sound in the back of his throat. Because for as much as Stiles complains or rolls his eyes, he can almost feel the amusement tucked away in the smile that he presses to his shoulder. And the fact that he can feel that makes him want to melt, warmed to his core instead of burnt away like he'd been for so long.
Stiles can think what he likes about his appearance, wrong as he is, but if they made model spreads of people in the suits or armor he's 100% certain that his drift partner could sell it.
A hum leaves him, and he squeezes his arms around him. ] I have no idea what you're talking about. Although we are pretty far from the bed.
True. He could totally play basketball though. [ Dreamy sigh. Okay, don't get Stiles started, he's still a kid at heart and is an obsessive Mets fan on top of knowledge about whatever other sports he could get his hands on, and he misses them crazy. When these Kaiju get taken out for good, he is so going to as many games as possible. And it's the apocalypse, so you know, maybe they'll win for once. Which gets him on the tangent of taking Derek with, like it's a natural thing, and quietly, he makes a plan that if they both get out of this alive, they're doing it.
As he relaxes, he lifts his head again and props his chin on his shoulder instead, eyeing Derek out of the corner of his eye and looking at the bed. ] Yes, that's a problem, typically solved by walking.
Can't deny that. [ A thoughtful hum leaves him, as he considers all of the games he used to go to before the apocalypse hit with K-Day. Derek knows he doesn't even have to admit to having played basketball back then, because Stiles has seen everything about him over the course of their drifts. And there are just some days where he misses it, misses being an everyday person who could go out and do that. But he went from Jaeger pilot to pseudo-EMT back to pilot again, and it's been a long, long time since there was something so normal in his life.
It'd be nice to do normal things with Stiles, after this is all over, if they live to see it. ] Really? The more you know.
[ Equally smartass. But instead of just staying there, his smile breaks into a faint grin and he lifts Stiles off his feet where his arm is secured around his waist. ]
Hrrk--oh my god, dude! [ Stiles yelps when he gets picked up (and with one hand, nonetheless) and grabs onto the back of Derek's shirt tight, using it as an anchor, because even if he trusts Derek it's just the principle of the thing, okay.
Muffled into his shirt, he mutters-- ] I probably should've seen that coming. [ Like he's defeated, but holds on like a burr anyway. Fine, if you want an attachment, he can do attachment. He's really good at that, you could ask anyone who's ever known him. Stiles grunts and holds on a little tighter, shifting his knees up so they're not in the way, and it's a little disgusting how perfectly in synch they are. ] Asshole.
You probably should have. [ Not exactly smug, but pleased nonetheless, Derek lets Stiles attach himself to him and move around. He keeps his arm around his shoulders, lower than it was before, just to keep him stable while almost all of his weight is supported by the arm around his waist. It's not that Stiles weighs nothing, but just that he's so intimately familiar with his weight and height that he could always find the perfect way to lift him regardless of scenario. ]
Brat. [ His pleased amusement leaves him for something soft and affectionate, and he moves towards the bed with his burr, fingers curled tight in his shirt as he does. Navigating like this should be difficult, but it really is the furthest thing from it. ]
[ He rolls his eyes enough so Derek'll practically be able to feel it and gets settled again, crossing his ankles behind Derek's butt and using that to help him keep his weight settled. It's a team effort, even when completely goofing off like this, and by the time he gets deposited on his butt in the bed, he's not letting go of Derek, either, his arms still wrapped around his shoulders just a little, so he has to lean down.
Stiles gives him a look that's nothing but open affection and gives a cursory tug then bounces on the mattress a little. Pause. Thinky face. ] This is way more comfortable, you're totally right.
[ If he could just keep him like this for the rest of the apocalypse, Derek would fight for it every day. Because the perfect weight of Stiles in his hold and his legs around his waist, arms around his neck, everything warm and more right than anything has been for him in a long time? Is something he would absolutely fight for. Even if it's just them goofing off after a long day and a hard fight well won, nothing has felt more like home than this.
Leaning without protest as Stiles remains attached to him, he snorts softly at the bounce and the look on his face as he judges his bedding. ] Glad you think so.
[ It's easy as anything to just lean in towards him, one hand braced on the bed, before he chases that affection with a brush of lips. ]
[ Maybe he should probably be freaking out a little, that Derek just kissed him. But it feels like there's nothing more natural in the world, like it was just an easy progression from where they were just a second ago. And it kind of was, to be fair--maybe there'd been something a little flirtatious, or maybe this brand of affection that came from the drift was more than just a touch of hands every now and then.
Either way, he's really not complaining, and Stiles tugs a little with his arm, as if he was stopping Derek if he wanted to pull away, because no. He returns the kiss softly, eyes fluttering shut, and makes a pleased little hum into it. Not what Stiles was expecting when he got here, but he is so down with it. ]
[ There would be no denying that, back when he and Paige had first started drifting with one another, Derek had fallen hard and fast for her. It had slammed into him like a damn Kaiju, turning something that had been simple attraction into more. Despite how hard it was to get back into the program, to accept that he would be doing this all over again if he could find someone that held even a candle to her, it had been twice as easy to fall for Stiles. There was that chemistry there, from the first exchange, and it had just steadily and naturally grown over the course of their drift tests.
So he doesn't hesitate now, when he can tip from absent affection and touches into a kiss he sincerely means.
Mouth quirking a little in the kiss, he bows back in as Stiles tugs and brings his free hand up to frame the side of his face. ]
[ Oh they're even going to keep kissing. Okay, awesome. So awesome. Stiles is completely 1000% down for that. Any coherent thought melts out of his ears and one hand spreads out across the back of his neck, fingers coming up into the short baby hairs at the nape and curling at the knuckles. If the emptiness from the drift could be described as a beast, it'd be freakin' purring by now, and it feels like it's nearly gone, here, wrapped up in this room that smells like Derek, kissing him slow in the light of an alarm clock facing across the room.
Stiles has always been the type to fall hard, too. And Derek, with his stupid heroism, his bravery, his bitchy attitude and his dry humor, his sarcasm that might as well be sharper than Stiles' himself--he made it easy for him. He's not usually the kind of guy to just get with someone, and this isn't like that. It's soft and warm and something he's felt like he's done before, like it's just natural. ]
[ They are absolutely going to keep kissing. Derek just sinks into the natural warmth of it all, hand shifting so that his fingers can curl just at the edges of that dark birdsnest that Stiles calls his hair. He could probably tangle his fingers in it and just kiss him until the sun is coming up again, beyond the walls of the Shatterdome that they've been calling home for some time now. Honestly, the only reason he'd register anything is if it was a Kaiju attack and it meant drifting with Stiles again. This moment is practically on the same level as the drift, and it's the single thing that would get him moving.
A soft sound leaves him as he tips into the kiss a little more, something pushing on a contented hum in his throat. Because it's been a long, long time since he last felt like he was home. Of course he found it in someone with a sharp mouth and sharper wit, sincerity hidden under bluntness. But he wouldn't ask for anything else, not when they've had dialogues that run the gamut, from sarcastic to bruising to heartfelt. ]
[ stiles doesn't break the kiss until a few minutes later, and when he does, it's slow. he's not had a lot of experience kissing in his life--a few girlfriends here and there, but nothing quite like this, no bone deep connection. drifting did a lot more for you than it did for the jaegers, he thought, because as connected as he was to loup garou, it was nothing quite like the actual human touch of his partner.
his gaze flutters as he pulls away, and it would be a downright lie to say he didn't look besotted, eyes still half closed, cheeks flushed, mouth open a little before he returns back to reality.
(a reality where he gets to kiss derek hale a lot. awesome.) he can't help the way his smile slides into a lopsided grin, and he asks-- ] Do that with everyone you're drift compatible with?
[ This-- this is part of the reason why he'd never been able to click with anyone after Paige. When you drifted with someone, you shared everything with them. It was more intimate than most people were ever prepared to be, and Derek was among them. There had to be that spark there, the feeling that would allow for him to open up to someone that way. Especially after everything he'd been through.
And here, here was the spark. In some mouthy college kid that was meant for K-Science, who stepped up where no one else had ever been able to.
He looks at him as he pulls back, eyes hooded but expression soft. This is... this is good. This is right. And he can't help the huff of a laugh that leaves him, even as he ducks down to brush a kiss against his cheek, down to his jaw, before he's nuzzling his nose into the crook of his neck and murmuring. ]
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BRACE FOR FEELS.
(He could only laugh when Stiles threw their arms up.)
And then there was the separation. In all of the excitement, the adrenaline and the rush, the victory, he'd almost forgotten about it. But years after drifting with another person, especially in a Jaeger during combat, and then suddenly doing it again with someone you discovered so much chemistry with? It struck hard, the moment that the connection was taken away. He'd spent the better part of the day just wanting to reach out and touch Stiles, even if all he could do was curl his fingers around his wrist. But he kept his hands to himself, even with the empty ache. It wasn't painful, but it was longing. There were people around them all the way up until they'd finally gone to their quarters, and yet he just felt alone again.
Still does, at three in the morning. At least until he hears the knock, swinging his legs around so he can get off his bunk and move to open the door. ] ... Stiles.
uwu
(Or at least in some degrees. Stiles tends to fall for people hard and fast, and being literally in said person's brain for several hours doesn't really help that fact at all.)
Feeling a little self conscious, he flushes at the ears and drops his arms down, tugging on the edge of his shirt to keep and down and trying to not look the bumbling idiot he kind of feels like. A part of him wants to just reach out and touch, anywhere, anyhow, and yet another part wants to run back to his room and forget this ever happened until Derek forgot it happened too. But he puts on a small, kind of lopsided smile, because one side beats out the other, and starts out a little awkwardly. ] I, uh. My bed's hella uncomfortable. This standard issue thing's gotta change now that we're celebrities, right?
[ #nailed it
He doesn't sound remotely entitled or anything. Just sheepish. Maybe a little nervous. ]
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Snorting softly, he can't help the half fond, half amused look that comes across his expression. The fidgeting and sheepishness, the little smile, soothe the ache in him, just enough that it's not as strong as it had been over the course of the day. It's something small, but it's still enough to remind him that things don't have to be as difficult as he makes them out to be. ]
Shit out of luck, sorry. You'll have to cheat like I did and bring in your own mattress. [ He pushes his door open a little further where he's still holding it, as if to show Stiles said mattress. It's a little bigger than the frame where it should be sitting in, making it dip in the center while the edges stick up, and he's pretty sure it would look a thousand times better with Stiles in it. ]
Can't say I'm too against the idea of sharing, though. [ Absolutely actually did nail it. ]
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Needless to say, he's thrown for a loop, because nothing ever goes the way Stiles plans it, so where his mouth is open, he shuts it with an audible click. ] Oh my god, thank you.
[ Which doesn't really mean thanks for the bed so much as thanks for totally getting it. ] That--yes. Yeah, yes. That sounds awesome.
[ He steps up the second step, putting him almost chest to chest with Derek, though, because maybe he wanted that touch just as badly, too. It's settling. Comforting. Home. ]
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Instead of moving away as Stiles steps closer, he bows his head forward towards him further, until he can rest their foreheads together for a moment. He more than gets it, honestly.
And something in him relaxes even further at the contact, small as it is. It's a start, and it's what he's been needing all day since they emerged from Garou's con-pod. ]
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And one hand comes out just to rest on his arm, long fingers spreading out over a bicep as he takes a deep breath, doesn't break the contact and feels that hollowness from earlier in the day starting to fill in again. When Stiles does speak up, it's quieter, and he mumbles, ] I am totally standing out here in my underwear, sooooo.
[ But even as that flush creeps over his cheeks, he laughs anyway, softly, and flutters his eyes back open. ]
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He hasn't felt that way in a long time about anyone, and all it took was a practice fight turned into a well-tuned dance.
Expression curling into a smile, he finally closes his eyes and returns the quiet laugh. ]
It's three in the morning, I don't think you have much to worry about. [ Still, where his fingers are curled at his hip, he gives a small pull on the familiar shirt. With it, he takes a few steps back and into his dorm again, barely breaking contact where their foreheads touch as he moves. ]
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His other hand ends up getting a grip on Derek's shirt near his chest, both hands curling into their points like an anchor as he jokingly overreacts to the statement, even if it's lowly, like a private joke. ] Yeah, says you, until someone comes running down the hall and takes a picture for the entire shatterdome to see. They'll hang it up next to the war clock.
[ He doesn't break the contact either, and by the time they're fully in the room, he settles in the same place again, feeling vaguely like a teenager trying to make out while your parents are gone again. ]
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Still, there are a couple things that are usually considered downsides to the velcro effect. This is one of them, where he just wants to put his hands everywhere, pull Stiles into him. ]
We'll suffer together. [ Reply very similar in tone, low and joking and distinctly amused, he brings his other hand up and around the back of Stiles' shoulder. Anchored together, his smile spreads a little more, straight line of his nose bumping into the upturn of Stiles'. ]
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[ His diarrhea of the mouth also seems to be getting the better of him lately, and Stiles decides that's probably a good point to stop talking, snapping his mouth shut and focusing on the touch between them instead. It's nice, soothing, a physical connection in place of a mental one, and he slides his arms up to wrap around his shoulders instead, returning the bump once he's made his point and pulling away to tuck his nose into Derek's neck, holding onto him like a rock in the middle of the ocean. ]
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[ Not like anyone who's seen him in the circuitry suit or their armor doesn't know what he means by that, but anyways. Derek's shoulders shake a little as Stiles snaps his mouth shut, adjusting where he's holding onto him as he settles into place again. One arm slips around his waist, secure and steady, while the other curls around his shoulders. Even as Stiles tucks into his neck, he stays relaxed, tipping his head to rub his cheek briefly against his hair before he's turning it to bury his nose into it. ]
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Stiles does, however, roll his eyes at the comment because really. ] Semantics. Are you Lebron James? No. [ Because then you could be in an Under Armor ad. Although, they'd probably take Jaeger pilots nowadays. They were kind of hot commodities, literally, and Derek sorta took the cake in that. Stiles' underwear pictures are awkward. Derek's could be model spreads.
Breathing in from his place tucked into his neck, he mutters-- ] I can feel you laughing at me. Weren't we going to sleep?
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Stiles can think what he likes about his appearance, wrong as he is, but if they made model spreads of people in the suits or armor he's 100% certain that his drift partner could sell it.
A hum leaves him, and he squeezes his arms around him. ] I have no idea what you're talking about. Although we are pretty far from the bed.
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As he relaxes, he lifts his head again and props his chin on his shoulder instead, eyeing Derek out of the corner of his eye and looking at the bed. ] Yes, that's a problem, typically solved by walking.
[ Smartass. ]
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It'd be nice to do normal things with Stiles, after this is all over, if they live to see it. ] Really? The more you know.
[ Equally smartass. But instead of just staying there, his smile breaks into a faint grin and he lifts Stiles off his feet where his arm is secured around his waist. ]
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Muffled into his shirt, he mutters-- ] I probably should've seen that coming. [ Like he's defeated, but holds on like a burr anyway. Fine, if you want an attachment, he can do attachment. He's really good at that, you could ask anyone who's ever known him. Stiles grunts and holds on a little tighter, shifting his knees up so they're not in the way, and it's a little disgusting how perfectly in synch they are. ] Asshole.
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Brat. [ His pleased amusement leaves him for something soft and affectionate, and he moves towards the bed with his burr, fingers curled tight in his shirt as he does. Navigating like this should be difficult, but it really is the furthest thing from it. ]
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Stiles gives him a look that's nothing but open affection and gives a cursory tug then bounces on the mattress a little. Pause. Thinky face. ] This is way more comfortable, you're totally right.
[ Get down here and join him pls. ]
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Leaning without protest as Stiles remains attached to him, he snorts softly at the bounce and the look on his face as he judges his bedding. ] Glad you think so.
[ It's easy as anything to just lean in towards him, one hand braced on the bed, before he chases that affection with a brush of lips. ]
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Either way, he's really not complaining, and Stiles tugs a little with his arm, as if he was stopping Derek if he wanted to pull away, because no. He returns the kiss softly, eyes fluttering shut, and makes a pleased little hum into it. Not what Stiles was expecting when he got here, but he is so down with it. ]
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So he doesn't hesitate now, when he can tip from absent affection and touches into a kiss he sincerely means.
Mouth quirking a little in the kiss, he bows back in as Stiles tugs and brings his free hand up to frame the side of his face. ]
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Stiles has always been the type to fall hard, too. And Derek, with his stupid heroism, his bravery, his bitchy attitude and his dry humor, his sarcasm that might as well be sharper than Stiles' himself--he made it easy for him. He's not usually the kind of guy to just get with someone, and this isn't like that. It's soft and warm and something he's felt like he's done before, like it's just natural. ]
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A soft sound leaves him as he tips into the kiss a little more, something pushing on a contented hum in his throat. Because it's been a long, long time since he last felt like he was home. Of course he found it in someone with a sharp mouth and sharper wit, sincerity hidden under bluntness. But he wouldn't ask for anything else, not when they've had dialogues that run the gamut, from sarcastic to bruising to heartfelt. ]
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his gaze flutters as he pulls away, and it would be a downright lie to say he didn't look besotted, eyes still half closed, cheeks flushed, mouth open a little before he returns back to reality.
(a reality where he gets to kiss derek hale a lot. awesome.) he can't help the way his smile slides into a lopsided grin, and he asks-- ] Do that with everyone you're drift compatible with?
[ as a silly joke, but. ]
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And here, here was the spark. In some mouthy college kid that was meant for K-Science, who stepped up where no one else had ever been able to.
He looks at him as he pulls back, eyes hooded but expression soft. This is... this is good. This is right. And he can't help the huff of a laugh that leaves him, even as he ducks down to brush a kiss against his cheek, down to his jaw, before he's nuzzling his nose into the crook of his neck and murmuring. ]
Only been drift compatible with two people, so.