Derek has the advantage here, though Stiles would have an advantage if pitted against an assailant. Especially in the event that he actually turned his runes lethal, actually utilized the poison that the old emissaries have taught to him. While the wolf might be able to catch up to him, he also knows almost all of his tricks, or at least knows Stiles well enough to adapt to them.
As he catches up, he clips his heels to trip him up, but at least swerves around him to make sure he lands in a faceful of fur instead of a faceful of dirt. ]
Oh shit! [ Stiles yelps when Derek comes into his heels, and sure enough, his long limbs go windmilling and he faceplants.
Luckily, Derek seemed to get around in time and he ends up with a mouth full of black fur--super gross, by the way, but it's at least better than dirt. He lays there for a second, face planted in Derek's flank, and mutters ] I don't know why I... play games with you, you're the most competitive... asshole I've ever met.
[ but there's literally zero bite to it. Panting still, he turns over on his back and stares up at the canopy of the forest instead, trying to catch his breath. ] Hoooo.
[ Legs crumpling under him, he follows Stiles' momentum and flops into the ground so that they're arranged with Derek cushioning his fall, the human sprawled on him in a spectacular arrangement of limbs. Despite his lycanthropy, he breathes a little heavily, panting with his tongue lolling out of his mouth without a care in the world.
He's not breathless like Stiles, though, which is no surprise. He's not awful at cross-country, but it's taken quite a while for him to get to this point instead of the staggering, wheezing one. His tail thumps, once, against the ground, and he slowly shifts so that he's not sprawled completely on his side.
Bowing his head over him, his ears perk up towards him-- and if one looks, there might be a wolfish "smile" at the corners of his muzzle. Just maybe. ]
[ Well, at least he looks happy. Stiles stares at Derek for a second as he lifts his head out of his fur, then ends up cracking a little smile, chuffing out a noise as he drops his cheek into his flank. It's nice to see him happy, even if Stiles is kind of exhausted for it.
Besides, he kind of loves playing it with him too.
Stiles rolls over and grabs his snout, pressing a kiss to the side of it with a wet smacking noise. ] Satisfied with your walkies?
[ Surprisingly-- or not so, at least to Derek-- Stiles tends to make him happy. Right now, it's a combination of training and play, and it's good for both of them. Stiles trains to use his skills as a beginner emissary, Derek trains his reaction times, his tracking. They work together to get more in sync, and he's honestly more than happy.
There's a brief thump of his tail, just a quick wag, before Stiles is grabbing hold of his face and holding him there to smack a kiss against the side of his muzzle. His expression scrunches up, as if he's actually affronted by the gesture.
But then he just dips his head, bunting his nose against his jaw and nuzzling his head against Stiles'. Yes, satisfied with his walkies. ]
Good. Because I'm exhausted. I officially ban running. [ Seriously, this and lacrosse are pretty much the only forms of exercise Stiles is willing to participate in. He's exhausted and everything hurts, and Stiles slumps back over, throwing both of his arms out over Derek's huge back.
He saw that, the tail wag. It makes him grin a little stupidly--all that running? It's totally worth it.
With a dramatic sigh, he flops backwards over Derek again, putting a hand on his forehead and dropping all of his weight on him, completely on purpose. ] I can't move. Gravity is taking me over, I'm dying...dying....
[ He rolls his head as if rolling his eyes, and Derek accepts the weight pressed into his body as Stiles flops back onto him. He doesn't really weigh all that much, to be perfectly honest. At least, not to the werewolf. So he just watches him placidly, letting out a small rumble at the back of his throat.
Stiles needs this, to actually give him some endurance. This and lacrosse. Thankfully, it's paid off. He's no longer wheezing, and actually fairly graceful when the occasion comes.
Fondly exasperated, he turns and licks a sloppy wet strip up Stiles' cheek in retribution for gravity failing. ]
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Derek has the advantage here, though Stiles would have an advantage if pitted against an assailant. Especially in the event that he actually turned his runes lethal, actually utilized the poison that the old emissaries have taught to him. While the wolf might be able to catch up to him, he also knows almost all of his tricks, or at least knows Stiles well enough to adapt to them.
As he catches up, he clips his heels to trip him up, but at least swerves around him to make sure he lands in a faceful of fur instead of a faceful of dirt. ]
no subject
Luckily, Derek seemed to get around in time and he ends up with a mouth full of black fur--super gross, by the way, but it's at least better than dirt. He lays there for a second, face planted in Derek's flank, and mutters ] I don't know why I... play games with you, you're the most competitive... asshole I've ever met.
[ but there's literally zero bite to it. Panting still, he turns over on his back and stares up at the canopy of the forest instead, trying to catch his breath. ] Hoooo.
no subject
He's not breathless like Stiles, though, which is no surprise. He's not awful at cross-country, but it's taken quite a while for him to get to this point instead of the staggering, wheezing one. His tail thumps, once, against the ground, and he slowly shifts so that he's not sprawled completely on his side.
Bowing his head over him, his ears perk up towards him-- and if one looks, there might be a wolfish "smile" at the corners of his muzzle. Just maybe. ]
no subject
Besides, he kind of loves playing it with him too.
Stiles rolls over and grabs his snout, pressing a kiss to the side of it with a wet smacking noise. ] Satisfied with your walkies?
no subject
There's a brief thump of his tail, just a quick wag, before Stiles is grabbing hold of his face and holding him there to smack a kiss against the side of his muzzle. His expression scrunches up, as if he's actually affronted by the gesture.
But then he just dips his head, bunting his nose against his jaw and nuzzling his head against Stiles'. Yes, satisfied with his walkies. ]
no subject
He saw that, the tail wag. It makes him grin a little stupidly--all that running? It's totally worth it.
With a dramatic sigh, he flops backwards over Derek again, putting a hand on his forehead and dropping all of his weight on him, completely on purpose. ] I can't move. Gravity is taking me over, I'm dying...dying....
no subject
Stiles needs this, to actually give him some endurance. This and lacrosse. Thankfully, it's paid off. He's no longer wheezing, and actually fairly graceful when the occasion comes.
Fondly exasperated, he turns and licks a sloppy wet strip up Stiles' cheek in retribution for gravity failing. ]