I miss the days you used to be actually terrified of me. [ A laugh startles out of him as intended, brief and tired but still a laugh as Stiles puts on the face of a proper servant and addresses him as he actually should. But he doesn't really mean what he says, especially since he's always known that even when Stiles was afraid of him, he was never intimidated.
With the question, he tips his head so that his temple is resting against the headboard of the bed, something actually far too big for one person. Though he can't say it doesn't suit him, given the fact that his life might as well be too big for one person.
And he just considers Stiles for a moment, before he says anything. ] Arguments and bickering aside, that I would ever get along with you. That... this-- [ He gestures a little with their joined hands. ]
Liar. [ Stiles is 100% ready to call him on that, because he kind of enjoys the fact that he and the King have gotten a lot closer. It's a quiet little thing that he hasn't really shared with anyone, except maybe Scott, but anyone who's seen them in a room together can see it, the matching spark that they carry. If Derek's a candle then Stiles is his shield, holding him like the beacon he is to shelter them both from the night, because he doesn't see anchors like werewolves do--but if he did, Derek would be that for him, too. Maybe it's how different they are, but Stiles can find his center in his eagle sharp gaze.
He lets Derek tip over and doesn't really move with him, keeping his distance and trying to regulate his heartbeat, train it to lie to him and pretend that it doesn't make his throat close up when Derek gets this close. He's the King, he's the king, he's the king and you're not even a real emissary yet. ] Yeah, well, you might be stubborn, but I am the king. One time I went without food for three days because my dad wouldn't let me learn how to ride a horse.
[ His mom snuck him snacks, but that's beside the point. Stiles turns to look at him, returns his consideration with a small, soft smile. ] I told you like forever ago, I wasn't going anywhere.
[ Leveling Stiles with a flat look that doesn't stick-- Derek winds up letting a smile curl across his mouth again, eyes crinkling at the corners before he closes them-- he chuffs a soft laugh. He doesn't lie, though people expect kings to lie frequently, simply withholds things. But here, it is a lie, because he prefers this thing they have now. It would be so much better if he didn't have to pretend there wasn't more between them, even now in the quiet of the night when it's just the two of them. Scott gives them both knowing looks some days, when he comes across them with their heads bent close together over books and papers, treaties, territory lines, patrol reports.
Another actual laugh escapes him, though he still keeps his eyes closed. It's easier to not look at him when they're sitting so close like this, though there's meaning behind the fact that he can actually sit with him and trust him enough to let his guard down. But he pretends there isn't. ] That doesn't surprise me in the least. I also expect you probably fell off the first horse you ever tried to ride, though.
[ It's only then that he opens his eyes to look at him, catching that smile and lying to himself when it tightens something in the midst of his chest, where it'd been hollow for years. ] Your tenacity knows no bounds.
[ Derek smiles at him and his heart does, actually, do a backflip--Stiles has to swallow and turn his gaze away the minute Derek shuts his eyes again, because he's not good at hiding his feelings, he really never has been. And for as much as Derek pisses him off, he always straddles this line of wanting to strangle him and kiss him at the same time. Doing that for a year?
It's a long time. Stiles is really good at waiting, but this is one he won't ever get to have. But his heart is stupid and battered, and loved a princess before it loved a king--he needs to work on getting his standards down to a manageable level, maybe--and that much doesn't seem to be changing anytime soon.
Particularly while Derek's still holding his hand, pinning his gaze. He looks right at him, unafraid, mouth lifted in a tiny, lopsided smile. ] Broke my leg, yeah.
[ Stiles shakes his head and looks down, but doesn't take his hand away. He's so fucked. ] I'm not the only one.
[ because that's something he admires about Derek--he literally never gives up, when he has every reason to. ]
[ It's probably a good thing for both of them that Derek has the good grace to pretend that he doesn't pick up every subtle change of Stiles' heart and scent and breathing, the way his jackrabbit pulse leaps ahead of itself. Instead he just tries to keep his own from lodging itself in his throat, as something warm weaves itself into his ribs and tries to give life to the thing that was burnt out encased in them.
They've had a year to get to this point, and some part of him wishes that they hadn't. Because they aren't allowed more than this-- though who is he kidding? He's the king, he can change the laws if he wishes. It wouldn't be that difficult, despite the fit the council would have over it. Not that they've ever seen him to be a fit ruler in the first place. Apparently there's only a handful of people who think that he can handle the throne.
One of them sits with him now, their fingers entwined. ] Of course you did. Just how many adventures did you have that ended with you hurting yourself, I wonder.
[ He can't help but duck his head a little, laughing ruefully. ] What a pair of bullheaded idiots we make.
[ Truth be told, Derek doesn't see his own tenacity as something to be admired. But he will continue to hold on until the very end, even if it results in his death. ]
[ For all it seems, Derek's acting like he might have been distracted from the nightmare. That's good--Stiles' main point was to get him thinking about literally anything else. Whether it's the development of their relationship to this point or not, he'll take it, to not see that horribly haunted look in the king's eyes again.
Stiles lifts his gaze to the ceiling, rolling his eyes dramatically, and nudges him with his shoulder. ] Ye of little faith! Only like, half, maybe.
[ He thinks about his childhood best friend--for as much as he loves Erica, he thinks he might have found his platonic soulmate in Scott McCall--and how many times she got hurt as a result of his less than genius plans. To be fair, she either agreed or created the other half of them, so it was a fifty fifty thing, but still. His schemes had turned to politics since then, and keeping the council off of Derek's back had been his new form of troublemaking. He wasn't the real emissary, so he couldn't give advice at the counselings, but he could show up in the middle with "very important questions" for Deaton and then go on a tirade about suggestions until the council was forced to listen to him and Derek.
He drops his head back down but the smile doesn't get pushed away at all--Stiles just laughs, a quick thing, and shakes his head. ] At least only one of us rules a country.
[ Though he is, at the moment, distracted from the dark dreams that plagued him, Derek knows that this isn't going to last. He's not going to sleep for a few days, but he's braced for it. Used to it. This is a relief to have, for as much as he hates lingering on it.
Still, Stiles draws him away from those thoughts for the meantime. And it's good, for now. ] Really. I don't know, you and Scott get up to all kinds of trouble now.
[ Not that he can really talk. He and Laura got into all kind of trouble before Cora and Scott were born, when they essentially became Derek's responsibility as the elder brother-cousin. Not that he could keep them out of their own shenanigans, considering he got roped into or instigated things a decent amount of time despite his obligation as caretaker. But now, he can't really do all the running around that he used to do. At least he has Stiles there to keep him from going crazy, especially when it comes to the council and dealing with them. Some big part of him anticipates the day that Stiles graduates to actual emissary, because for as much as Deaton has helped the Hales he's done very little for Derek himself.
It makes it difficult for him to feel like he has any idea of what he's doing.
Bringing his hand up where it holds Stiles', he gently jabs their joined hands against his chest. ] Don't remind me, I have the Yukimura alliance hanging over my head already.
I have no idea what you're talking about. The prince and I are exemplary citizens.
[ Stiles can't help the smile on his face as he says so, because even he knows that's a crock of bullshit, but if it gets Derek to stop looking so gaunt and horrified, he'd make fun of himself for hours. A part of him is curious to know what the nightmare was about, but he can probably imagine--there's a reason why there are no hearths in the castle anymore. (It makes the drafty winters the kingdom is famous for kind of hellish, but Stiles gets by--sometimes he gets a face full of fur when he wakes up in the morning, if only because his best friend is considerate and doesn't give him bro cuddles, because that would be freakin' weird.)
One time though, the wolf who came to visit was a lot bigger than Scott. Stiles had been having a nightmare, and neither he or Derek had talked about it since.
Speaking of things they don't often talk about. Stiles scoffs and rolls his eyes, allowing Derek to manipulate his arm however he chooses, but he turns those smart brown eyes on Derek's, gazing directly at him. ] You mean the Yukimura alliance that's going to go off perfectly, because Stiles Stilinski is always right about everything?
Oh, yes. The most exemplary citizens. The entire kingdom could learn from you.
[ It's an absolute crock of bullshit, really. But Derek at least chuffs an amused sound, exhausted as he feels. The dreams won't stop haunting him for some time yet, especially when the newest addition sits there now with him, but he tries not to think about it too much. Instead, he just lets something more calming settle over him, peaceful and playful all at once in the chill of the night. It would be so much easier if it were winter, where the frigid air could clear his mind with a simple run, far from the burning fires that follow him every night.
But it would likely lead to him being the one to visit, on the coldest nights, where Scott is dead to the world and someone else suffers from the night scares. ]
You like to think you're always right about everything. You're clever, I'll give you that, but the success of the alliance remains to be seen. [ It's not nearly as harsh as the king tends to be towards the rest of the court-- even Deaton-- but maybe that's because there's a twinge of hope, deep underneath it all. He wants this to work.
Damn straight. [ the laugh makes something in him relax, and stiles yawns; he's been up for a while now, especially past the point of no return. the exhaustion is settling in behind his eyes, but for derek, he'll stay up the rest of the night. stiles became an expert at staying up late when he was a kid, and as a frequent sufferer of nightmares, sometimes he just finds it better to not sleep at all. but derek's room is a lot warmer than his--benefits of being the king, stiles guesses--and it's making him kind of relaxed. he could drift off here next to derek, probably.
unless he's making remarks on his honor. which he isn't, really, but stiles lifts both of his hands and scoffs, rolling his head in an overly dramatic gesture. ] Ohhh, yeah. Okay, sure. You'll be sorry when I'm right. That raise is gonna be sweet. I'm telling you, dude, when you learn the "Stiles Stilinski is Right About Everything" rule properly, you will live a much more blissful life. Ask Scott.
[ Simply watching Stiles as he yawns, Derek smiles quietly. The fact he's here when he could be in his room, trying to get a proper night's sleep, sinks something warm into the pit of his chest. He hasn't slept well for years, a solid decade by this point, so at this point he's... used to it. He's used to the bad nights where he's woken up with ash on the back of his tongue and smoke in his lungs, but right now he's so much more at ease than he would be if he sat alone. ]
How am I going to be sorry? You'll have been right and received a raise, we'll actually have gotten the alliance that the kingdom needs, and Scott will maybe start recovering from his heartbreak finally. [ Technically, Derek gets nothing from this whole bet. Everything goes towards the kingdom, towards Scott, towards Stiles. And it doesn't bother him, as the small part of him that tries to be optimistic holds on. If they're happy, then he'll be content. ]
Well-- [ the question obviously throws him for a loop, and stiles pauses in his gloating (the always end result of the stiles is always right game) and thinks about it, smile changing to a little bit of a perplexed look. ] I guess you're right, dude. It's kind of a losing game for the other party.
Unless you consider the alternatives of horrible, painful failure. [ snorting, he shakes his head, then levels derek with an actual look. he has yet to let go of his hand, and it adds a little bit of weight to the moment--stiles has always thought maybe, in another time, in another place, things would be a lot different between them. it always felt like they were just one step off of something great, but they could never reach that far.
eventually, derek would gain a wife, and stiles would step back as his loyal emissary, and promise not to let his stupid heart get in the way of his duties. ] What would you even want?
It's a losing game for everyone if it all falls through, so I try not to think about the alternatives of horrible, painful failure. [ Instead he'll focus on the hope that Stiles is right about how this'll go. The Yukimuras are the one thing that could kickstart the kingdom's full recovery, and would be a sign that they could foster other alliances as well. So Derek holds on to that, the same as he holds onto Stiles now.
Has been holding onto Stiles.
He meets his gaze easily, despite the weight of the moment. That chemistry is heavier than anything, and he knows. He knows it's there, and it's something he has to pretend isn't there because he's a king and Stiles is a commoner training to become a member of the court. ]
Peace and quiet, huh. [ stiles looks at him for a moment, and there's a soft smile on his face, crooked and affectionate and the kind of thing he only reserves for derek, before he snorts softly and looks away, lifting his head up to look at the canopy of the bed. ] If that's the case, you better give me a week's notice so I can pack up all my shit and get halfway across the country, or else you'll never find peace and quiet again.
[ a playful jab at himself, but kind of a true one, which is why he laughs afterwards. stiles knows he can be annoying, obnoxious, but he thinks he's got it down to an art with the king. more or less, anyway--he'd have surely been fired by now, otherwise.
still, he doesn't let go of his hand, so he might be a little hesitant in doing so--stiles hopes he wins this bet for more reasons than one.]
[ A laugh is surprised out of Derek; not a bark of a thing, as Stiles sometimes manages to startle from him, but still a laugh regardless, bright and sudden. He tips his head back as Stiles looks away, letting it leave him until it's only a soft chuckle, ending in a low chuff. ] No, I think you're quite stuck here. Someone has to keep me sane during the council meetings, because Deaton's certainly not doing the job and it's not Scott's responsibility.
[ And he would get lonely. He talks to some people, talks to Scott frequently, Isaac, Erica, Boyd. Even Stiles' father and one of the kingsguard that works under him, Parrish. But it's nothing compared to how frequently he interacts with Stiles, and how terribly he needs his emissary there.
Deaton is helping Scott, is his emissary. In training or not, Stiles has become his. And he holds onto his hand now, rather than letting him go anywhere. ]
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And finally a tag.
With the question, he tips his head so that his temple is resting against the headboard of the bed, something actually far too big for one person. Though he can't say it doesn't suit him, given the fact that his life might as well be too big for one person.
And he just considers Stiles for a moment, before he says anything. ] Arguments and bickering aside, that I would ever get along with you. That... this-- [ He gestures a little with their joined hands. ]
uwu
He lets Derek tip over and doesn't really move with him, keeping his distance and trying to regulate his heartbeat, train it to lie to him and pretend that it doesn't make his throat close up when Derek gets this close. He's the King, he's the king, he's the king and you're not even a real emissary yet. ] Yeah, well, you might be stubborn, but I am the king. One time I went without food for three days because my dad wouldn't let me learn how to ride a horse.
[ His mom snuck him snacks, but that's beside the point. Stiles turns to look at him, returns his consideration with a small, soft smile. ] I told you like forever ago, I wasn't going anywhere.
kicks feet
Another actual laugh escapes him, though he still keeps his eyes closed. It's easier to not look at him when they're sitting so close like this, though there's meaning behind the fact that he can actually sit with him and trust him enough to let his guard down. But he pretends there isn't. ] That doesn't surprise me in the least. I also expect you probably fell off the first horse you ever tried to ride, though.
[ It's only then that he opens his eyes to look at him, catching that smile and lying to himself when it tightens something in the midst of his chest, where it'd been hollow for years. ] Your tenacity knows no bounds.
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It's a long time. Stiles is really good at waiting, but this is one he won't ever get to have. But his heart is stupid and battered, and loved a princess before it loved a king--he needs to work on getting his standards down to a manageable level, maybe--and that much doesn't seem to be changing anytime soon.
Particularly while Derek's still holding his hand, pinning his gaze. He looks right at him, unafraid, mouth lifted in a tiny, lopsided smile. ] Broke my leg, yeah.
[ Stiles shakes his head and looks down, but doesn't take his hand away. He's so fucked. ] I'm not the only one.
[ because that's something he admires about Derek--he literally never gives up, when he has every reason to. ]
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They've had a year to get to this point, and some part of him wishes that they hadn't. Because they aren't allowed more than this-- though who is he kidding? He's the king, he can change the laws if he wishes. It wouldn't be that difficult, despite the fit the council would have over it. Not that they've ever seen him to be a fit ruler in the first place. Apparently there's only a handful of people who think that he can handle the throne.
One of them sits with him now, their fingers entwined. ] Of course you did. Just how many adventures did you have that ended with you hurting yourself, I wonder.
[ He can't help but duck his head a little, laughing ruefully. ] What a pair of bullheaded idiots we make.
[ Truth be told, Derek doesn't see his own tenacity as something to be admired. But he will continue to hold on until the very end, even if it results in his death. ]
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Stiles lifts his gaze to the ceiling, rolling his eyes dramatically, and nudges him with his shoulder. ] Ye of little faith! Only like, half, maybe.
[ He thinks about his childhood best friend--for as much as he loves Erica, he thinks he might have found his platonic soulmate in Scott McCall--and how many times she got hurt as a result of his less than genius plans. To be fair, she either agreed or created the other half of them, so it was a fifty fifty thing, but still. His schemes had turned to politics since then, and keeping the council off of Derek's back had been his new form of troublemaking. He wasn't the real emissary, so he couldn't give advice at the counselings, but he could show up in the middle with "very important questions" for Deaton and then go on a tirade about suggestions until the council was forced to listen to him and Derek.
He drops his head back down but the smile doesn't get pushed away at all--Stiles just laughs, a quick thing, and shakes his head. ] At least only one of us rules a country.
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Still, Stiles draws him away from those thoughts for the meantime. And it's good, for now. ] Really. I don't know, you and Scott get up to all kinds of trouble now.
[ Not that he can really talk. He and Laura got into all kind of trouble before Cora and Scott were born, when they essentially became Derek's responsibility as the elder brother-cousin. Not that he could keep them out of their own shenanigans, considering he got roped into or instigated things a decent amount of time despite his obligation as caretaker. But now, he can't really do all the running around that he used to do. At least he has Stiles there to keep him from going crazy, especially when it comes to the council and dealing with them. Some big part of him anticipates the day that Stiles graduates to actual emissary, because for as much as Deaton has helped the Hales he's done very little for Derek himself.
It makes it difficult for him to feel like he has any idea of what he's doing.
Bringing his hand up where it holds Stiles', he gently jabs their joined hands against his chest. ] Don't remind me, I have the Yukimura alliance hanging over my head already.
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[ Stiles can't help the smile on his face as he says so, because even he knows that's a crock of bullshit, but if it gets Derek to stop looking so gaunt and horrified, he'd make fun of himself for hours. A part of him is curious to know what the nightmare was about, but he can probably imagine--there's a reason why there are no hearths in the castle anymore. (It makes the drafty winters the kingdom is famous for kind of hellish, but Stiles gets by--sometimes he gets a face full of fur when he wakes up in the morning, if only because his best friend is considerate and doesn't give him bro cuddles, because that would be freakin' weird.)
One time though, the wolf who came to visit was a lot bigger than Scott. Stiles had been having a nightmare, and neither he or Derek had talked about it since.
Speaking of things they don't often talk about. Stiles scoffs and rolls his eyes, allowing Derek to manipulate his arm however he chooses, but he turns those smart brown eyes on Derek's, gazing directly at him. ] You mean the Yukimura alliance that's going to go off perfectly, because Stiles Stilinski is always right about everything?
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[ It's an absolute crock of bullshit, really. But Derek at least chuffs an amused sound, exhausted as he feels. The dreams won't stop haunting him for some time yet, especially when the newest addition sits there now with him, but he tries not to think about it too much. Instead, he just lets something more calming settle over him, peaceful and playful all at once in the chill of the night. It would be so much easier if it were winter, where the frigid air could clear his mind with a simple run, far from the burning fires that follow him every night.
But it would likely lead to him being the one to visit, on the coldest nights, where Scott is dead to the world and someone else suffers from the night scares. ]
You like to think you're always right about everything. You're clever, I'll give you that, but the success of the alliance remains to be seen. [ It's not nearly as harsh as the king tends to be towards the rest of the court-- even Deaton-- but maybe that's because there's a twinge of hope, deep underneath it all. He wants this to work.
He hopes Stiles is right. ]
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unless he's making remarks on his honor. which he isn't, really, but stiles lifts both of his hands and scoffs, rolling his head in an overly dramatic gesture. ] Ohhh, yeah. Okay, sure. You'll be sorry when I'm right. That raise is gonna be sweet. I'm telling you, dude, when you learn the "Stiles Stilinski is Right About Everything" rule properly, you will live a much more blissful life. Ask Scott.
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How am I going to be sorry? You'll have been right and received a raise, we'll actually have gotten the alliance that the kingdom needs, and Scott will maybe start recovering from his heartbreak finally. [ Technically, Derek gets nothing from this whole bet. Everything goes towards the kingdom, towards Scott, towards Stiles. And it doesn't bother him, as the small part of him that tries to be optimistic holds on. If they're happy, then he'll be content. ]
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Unless you consider the alternatives of horrible, painful failure. [ snorting, he shakes his head, then levels derek with an actual look. he has yet to let go of his hand, and it adds a little bit of weight to the moment--stiles has always thought maybe, in another time, in another place, things would be a lot different between them. it always felt like they were just one step off of something great, but they could never reach that far.
eventually, derek would gain a wife, and stiles would step back as his loyal emissary, and promise not to let his stupid heart get in the way of his duties. ] What would you even want?
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Has been holding onto Stiles.
He meets his gaze easily, despite the weight of the moment. That chemistry is heavier than anything, and he knows. He knows it's there, and it's something he has to pretend isn't there because he's a king and Stiles is a commoner training to become a member of the court. ]
Peace and quiet. [ It's better than saying you. ]
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[ a playful jab at himself, but kind of a true one, which is why he laughs afterwards. stiles knows he can be annoying, obnoxious, but he thinks he's got it down to an art with the king. more or less, anyway--he'd have surely been fired by now, otherwise.
still, he doesn't let go of his hand, so he might be a little hesitant in doing so--stiles hopes he wins this bet for more reasons than one.]
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[ And he would get lonely. He talks to some people, talks to Scott frequently, Isaac, Erica, Boyd. Even Stiles' father and one of the kingsguard that works under him, Parrish. But it's nothing compared to how frequently he interacts with Stiles, and how terribly he needs his emissary there.
Deaton is helping Scott, is his emissary. In training or not, Stiles has become his. And he holds onto his hand now, rather than letting him go anywhere. ]