[ Eyes tracking to the bag as Stiles jostles it, Derek flicks his ears up but still remains rather stationary. The crisp air doesn't bother him, not when he's got such a combination of factors-- growing up in Beacon Hills, running hot, and having a winter coat attached to him-- but he's comfortable where he's laying, even if he's a little haphazard in his half-sprawl. The quilt is too small to cover all of him, so he simply opts to tuck his upper body mostly under it so he can curl up.
His eyes close and his ears relax as Stiles scratches behind one of them, though he doesn't try to go back to sleep. Stiles is back, and he hasn't seen him in a while. He has absolutely no intentions of dozing off again until he's talked to him for a while. A chuff leaves him, echoing with his more human laugh over whatever lets them speak to one another-- something he hasn't figured out yet, but doesn't bother trying to linger on too much-- before he's watching the teenager again.
He notices that shiver. ] I don't remember who we used to root for. [ His first actual movement is him lifting his head, letting the quilt slide down to broad shoulders so he can partially sit up. But it's also so he can bow his head forward, sniffing blatantly in the direction of his bag. ]
Hey, hey, hey, nose out of the bag! Stop werewolf peeking. [ Stiles bats at his nose lightly and holds the bag way up out of his way, so he'd have to lift completely off the quilts so he could get to it. Laughter lights up his eyes even as he's scolding him, and Stiles shifts around a little and sits down fully beside Derek, reaching into his bag and pulling out his Mac and the stick.
He sets it down quickly and jams his hands in his pockets while it's starting up, wiggling his nose and trying to keep warm. It's cold in here, what with the whole crushing lack of heating, electricity and giant gaping holes in many places in the walls, and he can barely imagine what would happen if it started to snow. ] I know it's been like ten years and all you probably remember of the internet is the---eeeeeee--kshhhh--- [ Imitating the dial up noise. ] But this is the future, and the future--aha.
[ The laptop lights up, the wifi stick turns on, and he opens Netflix. ] And the future comes armed with movies.
[ Nose scrunching, Derek opens his mouth as if he's going to bite Stiles' hand. But there's no intent in the movement, and he doesn't touch teeth to skin. Rather, it's more like a mock-bite that he offers close to his hand before the teenager is actually in his space. His ears flick up, and he watches him pull out the electronics, remembering his computer from when he brought it to write an essay when he remembered that the Hale house didn't exactly get wifi.
His ears swivel as Stiles imitates the dial-up noise, one cocking sideways and the other pinning back. It's exactly what everyone in the house did, back when they had a computer that worked-- it's still mostly intact, if melted to the floor in the corner they'd put it in. But then he notices the way Stiles wiggles his nose, and he shifts around.
Curling close to his back, he reaches around with his big head (avoiding knocking into him with his antlers) and catches the corner of the quilt gently in his teeth so he can pull it off himself and drop it over Stiles' head. It gives him a little blanket cloak, and hopefully he's warmed it with his body heat that it's a reprieve from the chill of the house. It has, in fact, snowed before, leaving a dust across the house. ] That's a lot of movies.
Netflix is the greatest invention of our time, and no one can convince me otherwise. [ Suddenly, there's this pressing feeling of warmth around his shoulders--more than just that of a blanket. It's the love from the quilt, the magic sewn into its very fibers, and he pauses and looks up at the wolf for a few seconds, while Netflix is loading.
Then, he returns the other corner of the blanket and brings it back around the giant wolf's shoulders. It's just barely large enough to cover them both, and that's after Stiles scoots in a little--he lays down on top of what's basically the nest in the space that's left, wriggling downwards on his stomach and leaving his laptop there, the only light in the dimming room. It's surprisingly comfortable, and he basically gives him a look that reads "are you coming down here or not" before he starts scrolling. ] What're your feelings on Tarantino. And I know he was around when you were, okay, Pulp Fiction is old as balls.
So it's a Blockbuster without you having to leave home. [ That's a solid indicator of when Derek was at his prime as a man, really. His eyes focus on the screen with keen interest, missing the look that Stiles sends his way. But as he moves around, his attention flicks back to him and he watches him move, feels the soft weight of the quilt across him.
A soft chuff leaves him, and he turns to lay on his stomach again. His tail flicks to the side, legs moving to frame Stiles' at one side as he lays close to him, sharing his warmth and getting comfortable. But he can't help the temptation of resting his head atop Stiles', never putting the full weight of it down as he peers down at the computer while his companion goes through movies. ] Reservoir Dogs is older.
Oh my god, dude, you're like a dinosaur. Blockbuster has been out of business for years. [ Stiles can't help but laugh, because the Blockbuster hasn't been open since before his mom passed away, and he grins, openly amused. It helps give him at least a sort of age for Fao, and the image of him watching VHS tapes is something he can't really get out of his head.
There's light pressure on his head as he realizes that Derek's using him as a chinrest, but he apparently doesn't mind. In fact, if you were looking carefully, you'd see his ears turning a little red. It's comfortable and warm, like being wrapped in about a thousand blankets, and the teenager flicks to Inglorious Basterds and clicks play. ] You've got a whole shitload to catch up on. I hope you're ready for enough fake blood to make Freddy Krueger queasy.
[ And if Stiles shifts in a little closer to him, well, he's just cold. ]
Really? [ There's a frown in his voice, but he doesn't sound particularly annoyed at being compared to a dinosaur. He knows he's been here for nearly a decade, and it means missing out on a lot, even if he could very well investigate the world outside the forest, but he knows better. Very little could excuse a giant beast bigger than a bear in the midst of a town he hasn't seen in ages. ] Probably because of this.
[ A small rumble builds in his throat and chest, vibrating a little where he's resting his head, something amused instead of ominous or threatening. He's comfortable, and doesn't want to move from where he's settled now. It puts them closer, letting them share the quilt easier, and it means that Stiles won't end up rattling from the cold. ] I don't seem to have a choice in the matter, anyways.
Exactly because of this. Why leave your house when the Blockbuster is literally in your house? It's awesome. [ Stiles hits play and wiggles a little underneath Derek, like he's getting comfortable, before crossing his arms and dropping his chin down on them so he can watch more comfortably.
This is sounding like a good weekend. Spending time with Fao and watching movies, maybe going through the spellbook again, touching up his runes. Honestly, it's so normal it's almost a little weird, that he's basically cuddling with the wolf beast who lives in the burnt out house in the middle of the forest.
(But Stiles kind of loves him a little, so maybe that's okay.) ] You don't. I mean, I guess you can pick the next movie if you want, but I'm educating your sorely lacking pop culture center.
Well if it's cheaper. [ Derek lets Stiles move around under him, but decides to shift somewhat himself before he gets too comfortable. He slips one foreleg/forearm underneath Stiles' crossed arms, pillowing him further before he curls the other in front of the first. He's essentially completely enveloping the human that's basically cuddled up to him, and it's the most comfortable he's been in years.
It's a good thing, he thinks to himself, that Stiles' wards are so much stronger now than they'd been in the beginning. Should Jennifer decide to return to interrupt a peaceful weekend, Stiles should be able to sense her before she even gets close enough to cause trouble. He just hopes she decides not to, because he... almost needs this, at this point.
(Needs Stiles, but he focuses on his words instead of that.) ] I wouldn't know what to pick in the first place. Spaceballs or something equally out there.
Aw, dude, I love that movie! [ Wow, Fao's got good taste in movies, too? It kind of brings up a weird thought, that in all actuality, he doesn't know that much about Fao. He doesn't even know the guy's name (but to be fair, Fao doesn't know his name either)--just that he was cursed by a friggin witch. It makes the cogs in his brain start moving, and he stares at the movie for a few minutes, chewing it over.
Stiles drops his cheek against the arm offered to him and chews it over, pondering. ] Do you have a favorite? Or had one, I guess.
Mel Brooks is the definition of funny. [ Which is saying something because Derek pretends to not have much of a sense of humor most of the time. Give him ten years of misery and it's pretty easy for it to disappear, until a certain quick-witted teenager weasels his way into the nooks and crannies of his life.
Eyes focused on the movie, head still resting on top of Stiles', he tracks the movements on the computer while Stiles seems to fall into silence for a little while. But he knows him by now, so he just waits him out while he watches the movie, ears perked forward with interest. ] I don't know. I used to read more than I watched TV or anything. I liked sports and action movies, though.
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His eyes close and his ears relax as Stiles scratches behind one of them, though he doesn't try to go back to sleep. Stiles is back, and he hasn't seen him in a while. He has absolutely no intentions of dozing off again until he's talked to him for a while. A chuff leaves him, echoing with his more human laugh over whatever lets them speak to one another-- something he hasn't figured out yet, but doesn't bother trying to linger on too much-- before he's watching the teenager again.
He notices that shiver. ] I don't remember who we used to root for. [ His first actual movement is him lifting his head, letting the quilt slide down to broad shoulders so he can partially sit up. But it's also so he can bow his head forward, sniffing blatantly in the direction of his bag. ]
no subject
He sets it down quickly and jams his hands in his pockets while it's starting up, wiggling his nose and trying to keep warm. It's cold in here, what with the whole crushing lack of heating, electricity and giant gaping holes in many places in the walls, and he can barely imagine what would happen if it started to snow. ] I know it's been like ten years and all you probably remember of the internet is the---eeeeeee--kshhhh--- [ Imitating the dial up noise. ] But this is the future, and the future--aha.
[ The laptop lights up, the wifi stick turns on, and he opens Netflix. ] And the future comes armed with movies.
no subject
His ears swivel as Stiles imitates the dial-up noise, one cocking sideways and the other pinning back. It's exactly what everyone in the house did, back when they had a computer that worked-- it's still mostly intact, if melted to the floor in the corner they'd put it in. But then he notices the way Stiles wiggles his nose, and he shifts around.
Curling close to his back, he reaches around with his big head (avoiding knocking into him with his antlers) and catches the corner of the quilt gently in his teeth so he can pull it off himself and drop it over Stiles' head. It gives him a little blanket cloak, and hopefully he's warmed it with his body heat that it's a reprieve from the chill of the house. It has, in fact, snowed before, leaving a dust across the house. ] That's a lot of movies.
no subject
Then, he returns the other corner of the blanket and brings it back around the giant wolf's shoulders. It's just barely large enough to cover them both, and that's after Stiles scoots in a little--he lays down on top of what's basically the nest in the space that's left, wriggling downwards on his stomach and leaving his laptop there, the only light in the dimming room. It's surprisingly comfortable, and he basically gives him a look that reads "are you coming down here or not" before he starts scrolling. ] What're your feelings on Tarantino. And I know he was around when you were, okay, Pulp Fiction is old as balls.
no subject
A soft chuff leaves him, and he turns to lay on his stomach again. His tail flicks to the side, legs moving to frame Stiles' at one side as he lays close to him, sharing his warmth and getting comfortable. But he can't help the temptation of resting his head atop Stiles', never putting the full weight of it down as he peers down at the computer while his companion goes through movies. ] Reservoir Dogs is older.
no subject
There's light pressure on his head as he realizes that Derek's using him as a chinrest, but he apparently doesn't mind. In fact, if you were looking carefully, you'd see his ears turning a little red. It's comfortable and warm, like being wrapped in about a thousand blankets, and the teenager flicks to Inglorious Basterds and clicks play. ] You've got a whole shitload to catch up on. I hope you're ready for enough fake blood to make Freddy Krueger queasy.
[ And if Stiles shifts in a little closer to him, well, he's just cold. ]
no subject
[ A small rumble builds in his throat and chest, vibrating a little where he's resting his head, something amused instead of ominous or threatening. He's comfortable, and doesn't want to move from where he's settled now. It puts them closer, letting them share the quilt easier, and it means that Stiles won't end up rattling from the cold. ] I don't seem to have a choice in the matter, anyways.
[ But he doesn't sound annoyed about it. ]
no subject
This is sounding like a good weekend. Spending time with Fao and watching movies, maybe going through the spellbook again, touching up his runes. Honestly, it's so normal it's almost a little weird, that he's basically cuddling with the wolf beast who lives in the burnt out house in the middle of the forest.
(But Stiles kind of loves him a little, so maybe that's okay.) ] You don't. I mean, I guess you can pick the next movie if you want, but I'm educating your sorely lacking pop culture center.
no subject
It's a good thing, he thinks to himself, that Stiles' wards are so much stronger now than they'd been in the beginning. Should Jennifer decide to return to interrupt a peaceful weekend, Stiles should be able to sense her before she even gets close enough to cause trouble. He just hopes she decides not to, because he... almost needs this, at this point.
(Needs Stiles, but he focuses on his words instead of that.) ] I wouldn't know what to pick in the first place. Spaceballs or something equally out there.
no subject
Stiles drops his cheek against the arm offered to him and chews it over, pondering. ] Do you have a favorite? Or had one, I guess.
no subject
Eyes focused on the movie, head still resting on top of Stiles', he tracks the movements on the computer while Stiles seems to fall into silence for a little while. But he knows him by now, so he just waits him out while he watches the movie, ears perked forward with interest. ] I don't know. I used to read more than I watched TV or anything. I liked sports and action movies, though.