You absolutely are. x2 Being a nerd isn't bad though. What if we whisper. Stiles, I am whispering. What's the secret?
Is that actually a good idea with how inebriated you are.
[ Derek is, of course, a spoilsport and is going to ask before he starts packing up. (He's going to pretend he's not sliding over to where his jacket and shoes are over by the entry closet.) ]
Are too. You are also incredibly, /incredibly/ drunk right now. But I'm going to come over, and I'm going to make you food. And then I am going to make you go to bed. And you can see if you still want to do that in the morning.
[ Guess who gets stopped on the way out of his apartment with an armful of stuff to make Stiles food?
It's this guy.
Derek, however, navigates as far away from Laura as quickly as possible so that he can hunt down where Stiles lives. It's not that difficult, between looking it up and cross-referencing with one Scott McCall. It's a good thing Stiles talks about his roommate so much, because otherwise there would not be a hot chef guy coming up to Stiles' apartment, looking a combination of amused and bemused. ]
[ There's Derek! Stiles brightens the minute he sees his car pull into the drive downstairs, and he considers getting up, but whatever logical part of his brain is still functioning tells him that's an awful idea, so he sits and waits, hands resting on his ankles and grinning like the cheshire cat.
In fact, he just looks up at him when he arrives, still smiling, cheeks a little flushed, and chirps out a ] Hi, Derek! You came!
[ There is something incredibly endearing about the way Stiles greets him, and he feels something soften in his chest before he sets the heavy bag of ingredients down on the floor. His other bag remains slung over his shoulder, because Derek has every intention of staying the night to make sure that Stiles isn't in agony in the morning. ]
Of course I did. C'mere. [ He holds his hands out to him, twitching his fingers in a slight grabby motion to encourage him to give him his hands. ]
[ Stiles beams at him in response, clearly drunk off of his ass, and reaches forward, rocking up off of his butt and planting both of his hands in Derek's. ]
Y'wanna hold hands-- [ And it ends in a stupid giggle. God only knows where he was going with that one. ]
[ This is sort of amusing as hell but also really unfair, because Stiles is possibly the most adorable drunk he has ever seen. It trumps Derek's roommates in college by leaps and bounds, and he curls his fingers with his to easily haul him back to his feet. ]
[ His center of gravity rocks forward almost immediately and Stiles slumps into Derek's barrel chest, keeping his hands in Derek's and pressing his cheek against his pecs. ]
Yes. [ He says to nothing and to no context in particular, like he's just really suddenly pleased with having his face mashed in Derek's chest. (He kind of is.) ]
[ Braced to let Stiles lean his weight into him, Derek lets him keep one hand while the other slides away from his grip, settling in the small of his back to keep him stable. But he seems pretty attached to him, or at least the idea of being pressed up against his chest. ]
Hi there. [ Soft and amused, he rubs his thumb along the line of his spine through fabric, angling his head to get a look at him. ]
You caaaame. [ Is what comes out of his mouth, all muffled by the front of Derek's jacket; Stiles looks up and presses his chin to his chest, smiling from ear to ear at him.
He came! This is the first time Derek's been here. He should probably say something.
Of course I did. You asked me to. [ A small chuff of laughter comes out of him, and Derek gently brings his hand around to nudge at his hip. ] But we're currently outside your apartment, and I have ingredients that need to be used or put into cold storage.
[ Another nudge, but he doesn't take back his other hand still. He likes the contact there-- likes Stiles leaning up against him, but he's ignoring that as best he can-- and is reluctant to let go. ]
You brought me food! [ Drunk Stiles is apparently super into stating the obvious. He flings his arms in the air when he stumbles backwards, taking Derek's hand with him, and gives him this stupidly, dopily affectionate look, then tries to push open the door with his ass, stumbling through the threshold.
Casa Stilinski is pretty small. There are posters lining the walls, from Star Wars to sports stars, and a pair of lacrosse sticks piled in a corner. One of the walls is entirely covered in pictures that must have been from his kindergarten class, and there are mini mobiles hanging in the kitchen, with a decidedly feminine touch. (Thanks Lydia, who declared Stiles and Scott's little apartment a disaster area and untouchable by anyone of the female gender.) ]
Of which you also asked me to do. [ Derek doesn't sound in the least bit exasperated by the fact Stiles keeps stating the obvious, and instead bends forward to pick up the heavy bag again so that he can carry it in. It isn't much strain, and he simply uses the other hand to make sure Stiles doesn't fall over.
Nudging the door shut with a foot, he looks around at the apartment. Part of him really wants to kidnap Stiles back to his apartment, permanently, but he pushes it out of his mind and instead makes his way over towards the kitchen with his fingers still curled around Stiles'. ]
I forgot. [ Stiles stumbles forward into Derek's arm when he keeps a hold of him, wrapping both of his arms around his bicep and leaning into him as they enter the apartment.
He should probably be embarrassed. But he most definitely is not. Ah, alcohol. Making a pleased noise, he rubs his cheek on his sleeve and follows him right into the kitchen, peeking over his shoulders and watching everything he does. ] Fooooood.
Obviously, since you were sitting outside your apartment. Were you waiting for me? [ Derek lets him hold onto his arm, calmly guiding him through to the kitchen. It's not as if he can't find his way around, considering the size of the place, but he's being careful as he goes to make sure Stiles doesn't stumble.
Dropping his bag onto the floor outside the kitchen, he sets the one with all the ingredients onto the counter so that he can start taking everything out. ] Yes, food.
Yussss! Duh. 's polite. [ He literally walked outside the minute Derek told him he was coming and stayed there. It's a good thing it's mid April.
Stiles gives him a dopey smile and leans into his shoulder, dropping his arms to give him his other hand back obediently and wrapping it around his waist instead, basically melting into his side. ] I can't believe you're here.
Right, of course. [ It really is a good thing it's mid April, otherwise Stiles would be a popsicle. Not that Derek would be against warming him up again-- okay, focus, Hale.
Letting Stiles maneuver himself into his space, he works easily with his attachment, content in the moment. He needs to dig around in his kitchen for all the pots and pans and the crockpot, but he's in no real hurry since the pulled pork sure as hell won't be done before Stiles is unconscious. ] Why's that?
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.
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i am not nerdy!!!!!! rude
k maybe a little
shh its a secret
come overrrrr :D :D :D
[ He is so drunk. That would be a terrible idea, the little voice in his head says. Stiles hates that guy. ]
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x2
Being a nerd isn't bad though.
What if we whisper.
Stiles, I am whispering. What's the secret?
Is that actually a good idea with how inebriated you are.
[ Derek is, of course, a spoilsport and is going to ask before he starts packing up. (He's going to pretend he's not sliding over to where his jacket and shoes are over by the entry closet.) ]
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s secretss that ur like
the best
and f u come over rek
here
imgn kss u like aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa lot
i swear tgo runk im not god
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You are also incredibly, /incredibly/ drunk right now.
But I'm going to come over, and I'm going to make you food.
And then I am going to make you go to bed.
And you can see if you still want to do that in the morning.
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[ the level of mortification he's going to have tomorrow at this ]
bed souns A+
ug et a gold star likme y kids
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I will put it on my fridge like Tali has all hers.
Try to drink some water, okay? I need to get my stuff together.
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yes sir
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<3
Be there soon.
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it's this guy ]
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It's this guy.
Derek, however, navigates as far away from Laura as quickly as possible so that he can hunt down where Stiles lives. It's not that difficult, between looking it up and cross-referencing with one Scott McCall. It's a good thing Stiles talks about his roommate so much, because otherwise there would not be a hot chef guy coming up to Stiles' apartment, looking a combination of amused and bemused. ]
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In fact, he just looks up at him when he arrives, still smiling, cheeks a little flushed, and chirps out a ] Hi, Derek! You came!
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Of course I did. C'mere. [ He holds his hands out to him, twitching his fingers in a slight grabby motion to encourage him to give him his hands. ]
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Y'wanna hold hands-- [ And it ends in a stupid giggle. God only knows where he was going with that one. ]
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Absolutely. [ Not actually a lie. ]
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Yes. [ He says to nothing and to no context in particular, like he's just really suddenly pleased with having his face mashed in Derek's chest. (He kind of is.) ]
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Hi there. [ Soft and amused, he rubs his thumb along the line of his spine through fabric, angling his head to get a look at him. ]
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He came! This is the first time Derek's been here. He should probably say something.
He doesn't. Just grins kind of stupidly at him. ]
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[ Another nudge, but he doesn't take back his other hand still. He likes the contact there-- likes Stiles leaning up against him, but he's ignoring that as best he can-- and is reluctant to let go. ]
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Casa Stilinski is pretty small. There are posters lining the walls, from Star Wars to sports stars, and a pair of lacrosse sticks piled in a corner. One of the walls is entirely covered in pictures that must have been from his kindergarten class, and there are mini mobiles hanging in the kitchen, with a decidedly feminine touch. (Thanks Lydia, who declared Stiles and Scott's little apartment a disaster area and untouchable by anyone of the female gender.) ]
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Nudging the door shut with a foot, he looks around at the apartment. Part of him really wants to kidnap Stiles back to his apartment, permanently, but he pushes it out of his mind and instead makes his way over towards the kitchen with his fingers still curled around Stiles'. ]
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He should probably be embarrassed. But he most definitely is not. Ah, alcohol. Making a pleased noise, he rubs his cheek on his sleeve and follows him right into the kitchen, peeking over his shoulders and watching everything he does. ] Fooooood.
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Dropping his bag onto the floor outside the kitchen, he sets the one with all the ingredients onto the counter so that he can start taking everything out. ] Yes, food.
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Stiles gives him a dopey smile and leans into his shoulder, dropping his arms to give him his other hand back obediently and wrapping it around his waist instead, basically melting into his side. ] I can't believe you're here.
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Letting Stiles maneuver himself into his space, he works easily with his attachment, content in the moment. He needs to dig around in his kitchen for all the pots and pans and the crockpot, but he's in no real hurry since the pulled pork sure as hell won't be done before Stiles is unconscious. ] Why's that?
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'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.
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