[ At least now the more wolfish sounds that leave him are easily explained. They weren't that uncommon from him before, but now they make sense rather than him just seeming like a man gone feral. (Still not that far off, true, but.) It's a surprise that he even has the heart to feel contentment now, and Stiles is the one to thank for it, honestly.
So it's easy for Derek to let him help get him out of the water, and he gives a small, full-body shudder before he shakes himself off a little. His hair, mostly, as his head shakes a little and fluffs it up into a softer facsimile of his usual style.
He does not take his hand back. ] Afternoon, I think. If ingrained training allows for it, anyways. [ Exhaustion will likely beat it out, though. ]
[ stiles' lips quirk up the moment derek basically shakes himself off, and he can't resist the -- ] Apparently that isn't the only thing ingrained in you, son of Romulus.
[ and he's obviously not complaining, considering; stiles squeezes the hand in his once, gently, carefully starting to pull him out of the bathhouse. he hides his kind of besotted grin down at the ground as he pauses to grab his tunic from where it'd been waiting with his pants, flinging it over his arm to worry about it later. for now, there's sleep, and tending to his warrior for as long as he needs it. ] Afternoon sounds fine with me. The longer I can avoid the senate attendings I have, the better.
If it is effective, then it is effective. [ Stated primly, Derek pretends to be offended as he lets Stiles lead him forward. He has no interest in retrieving his armor right now, and it's not as if anyone will take it considering they know who it belongs to.
No, instead he follows his young lord, fingers slipping between his and keeping that connection between them. Right now, all he wants to do is sleep. Exhaustion has sunken into every single inch of him, and he has every intention of just collapsing the moment he's within sight of a bed. But first, he comes up behind Stiles' shoulder, bowing his head forward to brush his nose behind the teen's ear. ] You cannot avoid them forever, but after such a harrowing day it will not be difficult to sleep for so long.
I commm--completely agree. [ That makes it really hard to walk, Derek. Not in a bad way, of course, but it gives him the shivers when he's practically murmuring in his ear like that, and Stiles' lashes flutter as he tries to keep himself under control. Originally, buying Derek had a certain clause included in the contract, but Stiles just--he just couldn't bring himself to do it, not when he'd heard so much of Derek's past in the ring.
So, despite the fact that his feelings have been realized and reciprocated, those feelings are going to get buried very, very deeply for a little while.
The teenager doesn't even bother trying to hide their clasped hands as he leads Derek through the short walk to his own quarters. It's late enough now that no one's around anyway, save for personal guards, and it's easy for him to sneak into the bedroom, holding the door open for Derek and shutting it gently behind him.
Fanning out his hands, he makes a gesture towards the bed. ] What's mine is yours, Derek. Feel free to get comfortable.
[ He pulls back a bit behind Stiles, huffing out faint amusement but otherwise not commenting. There's also nothing more, as he follows after him in relative silence. They need to collect the beast from the woods, but Derek is far more interested in sleep than the idea of surveying the body of a minotaur that broke and fractured a good number of bones and tried to go after Stiles.
It means he can focus on stiles, on the fact that he's safe now. Yes, they'll be sharing a bed, but nothing is going to come of it. Not unless he's the one to initiate it, and it's not going to happen. Tonight, anyways. Stiles respects him far more than either of his past owners did.
Sneaking after him and into the room, he surveys it in a different light than he has in the past. But then he immediately moves to the bed, and flops forward right onto it. ]
[ stiles snorts out loud when derek flops forward on the bed, and a rush of affection surges up in his chest for his gladiator, his advisor, one of his closest friends. stiles wouldn't have pictured things ending up like this when he first threw his token into the ring, but he's never been happier for it.
shuffling out of his sandals, stiles clicks the door shut and makes his way across the room, settling in a seated position at the head of the bed instead. his hands automatically find derek's hair, carding through soft, still wet strands with care and affection and a certain kind of warmth.
who knows where things will go from here? stiles doesn't, and he doesn't plan on thinking about it too much. betrothals, weddings; none of it matters, not here, not right now. ] That usually means you take half the bed. [ jokingly: ] Were you raised by wolves?
Yes. [ Derek muffles it against Stiles' hip as she shifts closer to him, the moment he feels his fingers sliding through his hair in a familiar motion. He hasn't the foggiest idea of where his sandals have gone off to, and his clothes are loose and damp and he would feel more comfortable shedding them, but he doesn't feel the energy to do it.
Especially not with Stiles touching him, stroking his head the way he is. It's such a soothing gesture to him, has been since he was young, and he immediately relaxes. ]
My mother said I spent more time as a wolf than a boy, when I learned how to shift forms. [ The words come after a moment of silence, like he's respecting the memory before he shares it. And it's easy, to share it. There's no one else he would want to share these memories with, anyways, because there's no one else that matters to him the way that Stiles does.
He shifts, putting his weight into his shoulder so he can look up at him. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
So it's easy for Derek to let him help get him out of the water, and he gives a small, full-body shudder before he shakes himself off a little. His hair, mostly, as his head shakes a little and fluffs it up into a softer facsimile of his usual style.
He does not take his hand back. ] Afternoon, I think. If ingrained training allows for it, anyways. [ Exhaustion will likely beat it out, though. ]
no subject
[ and he's obviously not complaining, considering; stiles squeezes the hand in his once, gently, carefully starting to pull him out of the bathhouse. he hides his kind of besotted grin down at the ground as he pauses to grab his tunic from where it'd been waiting with his pants, flinging it over his arm to worry about it later. for now, there's sleep, and tending to his warrior for as long as he needs it. ] Afternoon sounds fine with me. The longer I can avoid the senate attendings I have, the better.
no subject
No, instead he follows his young lord, fingers slipping between his and keeping that connection between them. Right now, all he wants to do is sleep. Exhaustion has sunken into every single inch of him, and he has every intention of just collapsing the moment he's within sight of a bed. But first, he comes up behind Stiles' shoulder, bowing his head forward to brush his nose behind the teen's ear. ] You cannot avoid them forever, but after such a harrowing day it will not be difficult to sleep for so long.
no subject
So, despite the fact that his feelings have been realized and reciprocated, those feelings are going to get buried very, very deeply for a little while.
The teenager doesn't even bother trying to hide their clasped hands as he leads Derek through the short walk to his own quarters. It's late enough now that no one's around anyway, save for personal guards, and it's easy for him to sneak into the bedroom, holding the door open for Derek and shutting it gently behind him.
Fanning out his hands, he makes a gesture towards the bed. ] What's mine is yours, Derek. Feel free to get comfortable.
no subject
It means he can focus on stiles, on the fact that he's safe now. Yes, they'll be sharing a bed, but nothing is going to come of it. Not unless he's the one to initiate it, and it's not going to happen. Tonight, anyways. Stiles respects him far more than either of his past owners did.
Sneaking after him and into the room, he surveys it in a different light than he has in the past. But then he immediately moves to the bed, and flops forward right onto it. ]
no subject
shuffling out of his sandals, stiles clicks the door shut and makes his way across the room, settling in a seated position at the head of the bed instead. his hands automatically find derek's hair, carding through soft, still wet strands with care and affection and a certain kind of warmth.
who knows where things will go from here? stiles doesn't, and he doesn't plan on thinking about it too much. betrothals, weddings; none of it matters, not here, not right now. ] That usually means you take half the bed. [ jokingly: ] Were you raised by wolves?
no subject
Especially not with Stiles touching him, stroking his head the way he is. It's such a soothing gesture to him, has been since he was young, and he immediately relaxes. ]
My mother said I spent more time as a wolf than a boy, when I learned how to shift forms. [ The words come after a moment of silence, like he's respecting the memory before he shares it. And it's easy, to share it. There's no one else he would want to share these memories with, anyways, because there's no one else that matters to him the way that Stiles does.
He shifts, putting his weight into his shoulder so he can look up at him. ]