[ 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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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. ]
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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. ]