dear_mun | (no subject)

[This mate stuff? Glossing over that. It's enough he has to hear Scott waxing poetic about his future mushy hopes and dreams about the ever wonderful Allison. And his own mun, with the flailing. Awkward.]

I could make a chart about the language of your eyebrows.

Like, laminated. Wall-sized.

Just to let you know.

Stiles.

*Derek scowls at him*

Don't agree with it.

For one thing--they're not 'it'. Keep that up, your mun's gonna torture you for the sheer fun of making you growly.

For another--I'm totally right.

*A deep growl. He's not happy. Not happy at all Stiles*

[He ducks, hands up--no need to possibly get all wall slammy there, Mr. Alpha sir.] I'm just!..Making an observation.

It's what they do--I think they get a kick out of making us squirm, don't fuel the fire and all that crap. I mean--I know mine does, and I didn't even do anything.

*Derek gives him that 'bitch please' expression of his. Stiles always does something. It's Stiles. That's what he does.*

I don't believe that for a moment.

[His mouth opens, utterly indignant] Ow. Seriously.

Just because you can't appreciate my wit and candor doesn't mean I'm not awesome to other people. Okay? Mundanes are naturally sadistic.

I like you fine. *Derek scowls.* You're...Semi-pack.

[His eyebrows meet his hairline instantly at his first. Honestly, Stiles was under the impression Derek was the club president of Stiles Hate.

'Semi-pack' almost makes him stutter. He blinks hard--] Uh...

Rewind.

I'm still kinda stuck on the first part.

..I'm pack? Not--like them, but--uh. Wow.

It is only semi because you and Scott do not wish to be. Yet you are still somewhat a part.

*Derek folds his arms defensively*

I don't stick my neck out for just anyone.

...Right--[You're staring, Stiles, stop it]--that..that thing. Scott, he's...it's complicated.

[He shoves his hands in his pockets to keep from fiddling and gesturing wildly, because Derek freaking Hale is naming him--and his potato of a best friend--semi-pack. And the sticking his neck out? Yeah. That's heavy. Stiles may or may not be thinking the same thing.]..That's--[he frees a hand again to scratch his neck]--really...

...I appreciate it. If you didn't--I do. More than you know. And I..well, I would too.

*One of Derek's eyebrows quirk upwards as he tries to process through what Stiles said*

You're pack Stiles. Soon as you want to be.

...Uh. Wow. [He shifts a bit, glancing at the ground, the sky, pretty much anywhere else but Derek.

What does that even mean?

But let's face it. Stiles would--and has--risk his life for those rag-tag werewolves he's associated himself with, and their ultra-grump Alpha. Any and every time. Regardless of his human status and general lack of fighting skills, there's little that would prevent him from standing between the pack and certain danger. Especially Scott. And Derek. And honestly? It would help Scott werewolf-oven McCall to not be an asshat and seek out help where he definitely needs it.]

...I don't--wanna be a werewolf. I know I'm pretty useless--but I'm working on that. So if--you mean me, completely squishy human, then..[he exhales, sharply--god what is he doing, what about Scott, what about dad, what about normal freaking life--]

I'm in.

You are not useless.

*Derek folds his arms*

Healthy packs can and do have humans. You are welcome as you are.

[Stiles snorts a little, looking off--he doesn't believe that for a second.] Yeah.

Then consider me your human facilitator of healthy packness.

*Derek growls, he knows that scent, and he doesn't like it on Stiles*

Stiles! You are not useless. I don't pander to egos, so shut up and accept that.

[He winces--more growling, jeez, chill pills, have them already--]

Y'know--bedside manner, you should work on that.

[He shifts again, rolling his shoulders. There's definite surprise there, what with Derek being so...adamant.] ...What makes you so sure, anyway.

Every time there has been a problem you have consistently worked to find a solution. There is a reason I hid out at your house and not Scott's.

*he moves forward gripping Stiles shoulder* You're loyal and brave and you don't give up. That's worth more than any supernatural talents. And Yourre smart. Can't buy that.

[Stiles stares, blinking owlishly--he can't really argue with the problem solving bit, but any idiot with google at his disposal could have done the same.

Still.

When Derek takes his shoulder--the shock enough to keep him from flinching away--and he seems so certain, so..Derek, he can't dig up a decent rebuttal. It means something, and it pulls at his chest in a weird way. He swallows, so not leaning into that hand, nodding...]

Y'know, you're a decent guy when you're not being a total creeper. [His tone is light, teasing--maybe even fond. It's how Stiles deals with heavy. He may not believe it. But he trusts Derek's judgement. God knows why.]

Keep it to yourself.....I have a reputation to maintain....

*Derek squeezes his shoulder gently and lets go*

[His huffs--amused, surprised--not at all missing the warmth in his shoulder, nope]

Did you just make a joke? That was funny, seriously--You okay, need to sit down for a bit?

Edited 2013-02-03 12:09 (UTC)

*Derek just scoffs at him*

You just clearly don't know me as well as you think you do Stiles.

*Yes that's a smirk, he likes your company Stiles*

Yeah, clearly, as I'm discovering the strange and mythical sense of humor of Sourwolf. This probably means we should hang out more.

[And it just slips out of his mouth--though he shoves the slight panic aside, brutally, because Derek freaking Hale is smiling. Smirks count, that's totally a smile.]

....hang out?

*hes not sure he remembers how to do that*

I'm not exactly good company stiles

Yeah, hang out. Bro time. Having fun.

[Oh, god, if he wasn't sure Derek might actually try to go for his throat with his teeth, he'd comment on Derek's awkward. And that it's cute. Maybe. Somehow. Shut up.]

Oh, come on--seriously? Aside general threats, you're fun to be around.