potosi | crayola doesn't make a color for your eyes.

You're here! [ He repeats it again, because come on, Derek, that's like the easiest explanation ever. However, it occurs to him that maybe he needs to make that more obvious to Derek, so he worms his way under his arm when he reaches for the pots, gesturing at the upper cabinet when he gets the chance and then returning to curling into his chest. ]

's the first time you've cmere. [ Aside from the way that gets slurred at the end, it's at least cohesive. ] And you're cooking! For me! Right now, I like--dreamed about this.

[ Following his gesture and allowing him further into his space, Derek reaches to open the upper cabinet and starts going through the pots to pick out the best ones for the task at hand. He's got a lot of cooking ahead of him, but it's for Stiles. He's happy to do it.

He pauses, though, when Stiles curls into his chest and looks down at him. Brows raising a little, he looks fondly bemused. ] I would've come sooner if you'd asked me to. It doesn't always have to be at the loft.

[ A hand comes up, brushing knuckles across his temple. ] I just like spending time with you.

[ He absolutely beams at him as Derek looks down again, arms still locked around his waist, and pillows his cheek against his chest, softening just a little as his hand brushes across his temple. ] I like spendin'time with you too.

[ It's actually one of his favorite things to do. Stiles has been over at Derek's almost every day lately--his best friend's been stupidly busy with his exams, leaving him bored to all hell and finding his solace in someone who was a little similar, who shared his hobbies and listened to him, judged people quietly when they spent time together, had his sense of humor.

He has the biggest crush on him at this point--it's weird to imagine life without it. It's Lydia sized. Even bigger than Lydia sized.

Drunkenly, it's nice to enjoy it. There's a lack of inhibitions, here, where he can just get up close without even thinking something could be wrong. ] My 'partment sucks. An' I like Laura, and Talia, too, and--I wanna spendalotta time with you. All the time.

Your apartment doesn't suck. It has you in it. [ He laughs a little as he beams up at him, something warm creeping up his neck to have such a look sent his way. His fingers curl a little in his short hair, thumb rubbing against his temple as he scans his face. Stiles is drunk as hell, but he's warm and pliant and so affectionate.

Derek wraps his arm around his shoulders, letting him get comfortable against his chest. This is nice. It's nice to have something like this again, and feel like there's not some ulterior motive to it. Stiles just wants his company, likes bantering with him, sharing his mindset and humor. It's all just... Nice.

The crush definitely isn't one-sided, but he's working up to it. ] We can do that, you know.

Well yours has you. [ When the arm comes up around his shoulders, Stiles just turns over and tucks his face under his chin, keeping both of his arms laced around his waist. It's basically a hug, and he's kind of enjoying being wrapped up in Derek's arms like this, drunk enough to ignore the fact that this would be probably be way, way, way over the line.

But he laces his fingers behind him and smiles stupidly at him, resting his chin on his chest. He gives him a look, a little confused. ] What?

Yours also has me in it, to be fair. [ Well, it appeals to his drunk logic, doesn't it? Derek sets aside his ingredients and tools, bringing his other arm up to wrap around him with the first comfortably. He probably shouldn't be encouraging this the way he is, considering, but they're just... hugging. That's it.

Comfortable, he lets a faint rumble of a laugh out at the confused look, fond as can be. ] Spend time together, all the time. We practically do, anyways.

[ Stiles is quiet for a second as he thinks about that, because that is pretty much flawless drunk logic, then nods. ] 's true. I like it with you in it. 's kinda shitty otherwise. I meannnn--Scott's awesome, butttt...

[ There's an aborted gesture behind his back, and Stiles just hums in agreement, dropping his head under his chin and swaying just a little. Derek is nice and steady and warm and that idea just sounds great right now. ] I wanna.

[ ...and then,because his drunk mouth refuses to cooperate just like his sober one: ] Wanna kiss you too. And stuff. Lotsastuff.

Well, I can start coming into it more often. [ Stiles sways, and Derek shifts with the movement easily, keeping hold so he doesn't fall over or anything but not just simply standing there. Not when Stiles is so happy right now, or with how much it shows. He just... really likes Derek, and is completely honest about it right now.

Probably in a way that will be ridiculously embarrassing later on. But he'll just... make sure he knows that it isn't misplaced or anything.

The faint laugh turns into a more open one, and he presses his lips to the top of his head. ] If you still want to in the morning, I think I'd be all right with that.

You should. [ He nods, swaying slowly with him. By now he's been on his feet long enough that he's starting to get tired--summer break or not, Stiles is still very much on a school schedule. Plus, with that much alcohol in his system, it's starting to run its course.

Tilting his head up, he looks at Derek, cheeks flushed, smile a little lopsided, eyes half lidded, and nods. ] Yeah.

[ Yeah to the consent, yeah to the I want to kiss you later? Who knows. ] You're the best.

I will. Now that I know where you live. [ Stiles' weight is a little heavier against him now, and he looks sleepy when he tilts his chin up to look at him again. But Derek isn't surprised, he's an elementary school teacher and completely inebriated. He figures it'd probably be a good idea to actually put him to bed.

Expression softening as he smiles lopsidedly at him, he goes through his cabinets for a clean glass and fills it up with water, navigating easily despite his drunken attachment. ] Not really. But I'll take care of you.

[ He nudges his hand a little at him, though doesn't try to pry him off. ] Time for bed, Stiles.

You are the best! [ Guess who's still stubborn. The answer is Stiles. Drunk or not, he levels him with a look, and even lets go of his waist to put his hands in his shirt instead-- ] You're--smart, an' funny, and really, really really hot, and you like kids and totally get all my... [ Derek your chest is nice. ] ...jokes... [ Pat. Pat. ]

[ The nudge makes him fidget away, at least a little obediently, and he watches him grab the glass, making grabby hands for it. ] Are you coming?

[ Eyebrows raising as Stiles goes on a tirade at him, Derek leans his head back a little and blinks down at him. But then a bark of a laugh is startled out of him as he seems to get distracted patting at his chest, and he uses that to ignore the warmth that curls through his ribs. ] All right, all right.

[ He reaches his hand out, steadying it at Stiles' waist and curling his fingers into his shirt. He does not give him the glass yet, because the equation Stiles + liquid + movement pops into his head and he decides it will not result in a very good total. ] Yeah, I'm going to tuck you in. C'mon.

Gonna--hehe. Gonna read me a story, too? [ Still a little shit to the end. Stiles leans heavily into him when he reaches out, even frowning at the fact that he didn't get the water--but he's easy to distract, considering, and he finds his grip on Derek's shirt, stumbling forward a couple of steps.

See, look, he's so totally got this. Stiles is a legend. (It's a seriously good thing their apartment doesn't have stairs. ] Comiiiiiiiiiiiing.

If you want one. [ More like if he's still conscious by the time he gets stripped and hydrated and put into bed. Derek lets out a soft hum as he leans into him and follows easily as he starts stumbling forward. He isn't exactly keen on the idea of him falling over, and he's definitely grateful for a lack of steps anywhere.

Just furniture and errant things on the floor, which are easy enough to nudge out of the way or steer Stiles around as he lets him lead him by the shirt towards his bedroom. ] What do you want for breakfast?

[ That gets a pleased smile out of the kindergarten teacher, who stumbles his way to his room, but freezes when Derek asks the last question, and promptly whirls around, to which he falls smack into Derek's chest.

But that's not enough to deter his questions anyway. ] You're really gonna stay the whole night?!

[ There's a beat. ] Pancakes.

Edited 2013-12-14 07:43 (UTC)

[ It's really a good thing that Derek has an excellent sense of balance, because otherwise there would be a pile of drunken teacher and infatuated cook on the floor of Stiles' bedroom, covered in water. He steadies them both as Stiles falls into him, surprised but then amused. ]

Yeah, unless you're planning on getting up to make sure that the apartment doesn't burn down due to the pulled pork somehow setting everything on fire. [ He hooks his hand around him, setting it in the small of his back. ]

What kind of pancakes?

Blueberry. [ He nods, saying that gravely like it is in fact the most serious decision in the world, and lets Derek steady him. He could totally stay right here for the rest of the night if he wanted to.

Slowly, he pushes himself up off of his chest and takes a couple more wobbly steps forward, leaning into the wall until he can basically drag himself into his room. Said room has clothes all over the floor, and posters and pictures lining the walls--his "bed" is a mattress propped up on what looks like literally planks of wood. It's big enough for two, though, and with nice (plaid) sheets and a batman pillow in the middle.

Crowing successfully, Stiles lets go and drops straight onto the bed, landing on the mattress with a muffled thump. ]

Blueberry it is. [ Mock-serious in response, he tries to keep from smiling at him. For some reason, it's incredibly difficult in the moment, which is strange because he's the master of keeping a straight face. (Laura loses the game to both him and Cora.)

Holding his hand up, in case he needs to make sure that Stiles doesn't fall over, he moves after him as he nudges the clothes out of the way with his shoe. The apartment isn't... exactly the best in the world, but Scott's still going to school and Stiles is a kindergarten teacher. He can get it. But it feels lived in and it's obvious that people spend time here. It's not all bad.

A snort leaves him as he flops onto the bed, eyebrows twitching. ] Are you going to sleep like that?

Mmmmmmmmm. [ Is the completely intelligible answer that comes out of his mouth. He lays there for a second, grinning goofily into his batman pillowcase, then rolls over, still holding the pillow against his face, until he's on his back on the far side of the bed.

Nailed it.

He peeks up behind the pillow, all bedhead and flush, and grins at him, then sets it down. ] Like this.

[ Oh god.

Stiles is going to kill him.

Derek has to set the glass down because otherwise he's going to spill it everywhere, because he absolutely cannot use any brainpower as Stiles peeks over the top of his pillow like that. This is such a problem, and it's really, really bad. Laughing shakily, he moves and sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to prod him in the side. ]

Well, if you want to sleep in your day clothes I'm not going to stop you.

[ He immediately twitches away from the poke and laughs, bright and loud, then squints at Derek, like he's thinking. He's got a point.

But that requires getting up. And that's really a lot of hard work. Drunkenly considering his options, he fumbles with the button and the zipper on his pants, picking up his hips so he can kick them off. Shirt goes next, and this is normally where he'd put on a pajama shirt and sweats, but that is not happening.

So he just flops backwards again and throws an arm across the bed towards Derek, even doing a sarcastic jazz hand. ] Tadaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

[ He does at least try and worm under the covers. ]

[ He shouldn't have said anything.

Derek stares, transfixed, and tries to ignore the way that his neck heats up when he realizes that he's staring. Choking on a laugh at the jazz hand, he coughs a little afterwards and reaches to help him worm his way underneath the covers. He is not going to get up and find something for him to change into, because he does not need to fry his brain more than he already has.

Now is just the time to make Stiles go to sleep. ] Color me impressed.

[ It doesn't come out nearly as dry as he'd like it to, but he shoves that firmly aside and reaches to pick up the glass again from where he set it down. ] Time to indulge me and make your hangover slightly better in the morning.

Okay, mom.

[ Stiles gives him a look that is probably meant to be flat, but it mostly just looks goofy, and he pushes himself up to a mostly sitting position, picking up the water when Derek offers it and drinking it, a little unsteadily--he didn't realize how thirsty he was until he started--until he swallows the last bit and flops back over in bed, snuggling into his spot. ]

Y'don't hafta...[ Like it occurred to him now that Derek was gonna sleep on the couch. ] ...go sleep on the couch if you don't wanna.

Edited 2013-12-14 08:14 (UTC)

[ Unlike Stiles, Derek actually manages to give him a flat look at that. But he isn't actually bothered, considering he knows exactly how fussy this seems to be. Still, he'd much rather avoid Stiles having a godawful headache out to kill him in the morning. Having one that's just out to inflict lingering damage is much better, even if it's just a lesser evil.

Before he gets up and moves to leave the room, he regards Stiles as he seems to realize his original plan. It wouldn't bother him all that much, he's slept in worse places before, but-- ]

I'll come back after I get the roast in the oven. [ He reaches out, smoothing his fingers through his bedhead. ]

[ There's a doofy smile on his face as he leans into the hand in his hair like a satisfied cat, then he nods. ] Okay. Seeyasoon.

[ By the time Derek's finished with the roast, he's more than asleep, completely wrapped around a pillow and dozing with his mouth wide open as the alcohol finally takes its total desired effect.

However, he is scooted all the way over in bed, like he was waiting. Just in case. ]

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triskeles - 2013-12-16 06:45 (UTC) - Expand