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

They're probably just getting back at you for your lack of a facebook. [ Stiles says that like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and throws him a lopsided smile as he leans back in the passenger seat. It's undeniable that the prank on his seat makes him grin, too, because honestly, ribbing at Derek is like one of his favorite things ever, and he loves it when he actually falls for whatever's happening.

Whether it's an instagram picture of him unwittingly wearing a "smack the chef" sign with an arrow pointing to his ass or something with the two of them goofing off instead, these kind of moments have been littering his life for the past year. His instagram account has about a good hundred thousand followers, people who are interested in Derek's life (and that doesn't surprise him, Derek is, for all intents and purposes, a celebrity), and that makes something weird and warm twist up in his chest, because--hell, because people are following him because he's such an important part of Derek's life.

It's a little sobering and a little exciting, to be honest.

Pumping his fist in a "yesssss" gesture, Stiles pauses for a second before Derek can start the car and tugs him over by the collar of that stupidly attractive sweater. It's not for a kiss (as much as he would love that), but he holds up his phone and clicks the selfie camera once he gets a good shot of them both, grinning like a doofus at the screen.

Might as well give the people what they want, right? ]

Off to a Christmas party, armed with baked goods. #yourejealous #haleofakitchen

[ He clicks send and sets the phone on his chest as they start to head off. ] You said you were making something new. What is this? It smells awesome.

Edited 2013-12-25 18:59 (UTC)

Probably. They keep trying to get me to make one. [ It's not that Derek doesn't understand the concept of facebook or other networking sites-- he does, and he's mastered the aspect and role of youtube in that regard-- it's that he doesn't like them. Laura getting him to do the youtube channel involved a whole lot of twisting his arm, but five years later he's one of the top food channels, has over a million subscribers, and has been featured on a few Food Network TV spots.

And yet he continues to turn down an actual show any time someone asks about it, or he gets an offer. The revenue he gets from ads is enough for him, and he isn't in this for the fame, really.

Occupied in fixing his seat back to its usual spot, he startles a little as Stiles pulls him over by his sweater. But it's obvious pretty quick what Stiles is doing-- something that he's done enough times that he doesn't pull away, just focuses his attention forward on the phone and raises his eyebrows at it-- before he's resettling in his adjusted seat and putting the key in the ignition.

Though he may not have an instagram account, he's seen Stiles' plenty of times. The pictures of him, of them together, are pretty damn popular even among people that don't watch his videos. And Stiles looks so happy in a lot of them that they take together, he can't even question it. If it makes Stiles happy, then that's all he cares about. ]

Basically bread pudding. Maple cream cheese french toast casserole. [ Which is a mouthful to say, but just as much to eat. Hopefully. ]

It's a valiant cause, trying to get you to join the 21st century. Besides, instagram and twitter are where it's at now, anyway. You're already too far behind. [ He's just teasing, mostly because he knows Derek's disdain for Facebook and much of the internet's social qualities in general--he remembers a raucous dinner where Laura and Cora (acting as Derek, in perfect imitation) reenacted everything that had happened when they tried to get him to create the video channel in the first place. It'd ended up being a huge huge success, so of course Laura'd never let him live it down, ever.

And besides, that was how Stiles got to meet him. So he was thankful for Derek's crotchety views on the internet and his stupid amazing video channel. Stiles has been in it a few times now, either acting as a second pair of hands or doing the occasional (just twice) guest spot, and the Hale of a Kitchen recipe broadcasts had become an integral part of his life, even more so than before.

Stiles' phone is already pinging with likes--it makes him grin a little, and he uses that as a distraction so he can not so smoothly sniffs the casserole. Stiles immediately makes a noise in his throat because holy god wow. ] Maple cream cheese french to--ohhh, my god, jesus that smells awesome. Dude, you are blowing me out of the water as usual.

[ Derek does kind of have an unfair advantage. He puts the lid back on carefully and holds it in his lap like the precious cargo it is. ] Maybe they'll have mercy on me because I'm poor.

I had a twitter for all of five minutes. [ That sounds a little reflective, thoughtful, and he raises his eyebrows a little as if he's actually thinking about it. But honestly, he doesn't care enough about the social networking of the internet. Facebook is annoying and invasive, twitter is pointless to him due in part to texting, and instagram is just a still version of youtube to him. He can't be bothered to figure out the filters, honestly, except for when he steals Stiles' phone and takes pictures of him (on his own, with Talia, with his sisters, whatever) for him to upload, so people get his side of their relationship too.

Otherwise he doesn't care. He has youtube. He uploads videos of Stiles where they're goofing off, makes him stand on the other side of the camera with him or on his own. Includes him in his life as much as Stiles includes him in his. It's a great thing, something that he'd grown to really appreciate in the past year.

He can't help the short bark of a laugh that leaves him as he sniffs at the casserole, a small grin curling across his expression. ] I have to up the game every Christmas or they get that motherly disappointment I would rather avoid.

[ Turning his head to actually look at him and not the road, he snorts. ] They'll have mercy on you because you're you.

What would you even tweet about? [ He sounds incredulous, but it's mostly a joke--Stiles shoots him a look, one eyebrow raised, and snickers under his breath, imitating-- ] "My sisters drove me crazy today." "Today I cooked. Tomorrow I will brood."

[ He would actually pay money to see that, to be honest, but he wouldn't press. Either way, it's hilarious, and he taps out an absent staccato on the lid of the casserole container, long fingers drumming to some unknown beat as he considers Derek's response, tilting his head back to laugh like a little kid. ] Dude, no, I'm their precious sunshine angel children's teacher. If anything, they'll be less merciful on me. You're hot and wrapped around their fingers.

[ ...did he just say that out loud, that Derek was hot? Whoops. Maybe he'd take it as a joke?

It was so ridiculously true though. God. ]

[ Slowly leveling a look over at Stiles, he turns his attention towards the road again so that he doesn't get stuck staring at him and thus wind up running the Cruiser into a tree or something. Because knowing his luck-- ] Yes, that's exactly what I would tweet about.

[ Tone dry, Derek listens to the beat that Stiles drums out, somehow soothed by the sound rather than annoyed by it. Tapping sets him on edge, idle fidgeting distracting and annoying. And then he met Stiles, got used to him and his constant movement and absent chatter. Going without it, even for a day or two, makes him feel restless.

His eyebrows raise a little. ]

Are you downplaying yourself or just playing me up due to the fact that they've known me in a different setting?

[ He definitely just implied Stiles was hot. ]

I'm sure someone's already got one pretending to be you, anyway. The price of internet celebrity-ness. [ He's grinning by the time they pull into the suburban paradise that is the host's home--everything here looks like it was pulled straight out of a Home and Garden magazine, minus the snow. It's kind of nice, in a domestic kind of way, and it makes something deep in Stiles' soul remind him to never, ever, ever let any of these ladies see the hovel he calls home. Like, ever.

The next thing Derek says make him blink a little owlishly, startled by it. That is the second compliment he's paid his looks tonight, and he feels his ears go red as he turns his gaze out of the window to try and hide it, reaching down to undo his seatbelt as they pull into the drive. ] I wouldn't call it playing you up, dude.

No doubt there's someone out there planning on making one for you, then. You've got your own following now. [ His expression curls in distinct amusement at that thought, but his eyes focus on the house that they pull up to. Derek drifts until he can find a good parking where he doesn't have to worry about being stuck. Hopefully, anyways. Much as he likes the army of housewives he's amassed, he's... also less inclined to be stuck at their houses for ages when they're all gathered together.

A quiet sort of pleasure crosses his face when Stiles looks away, catching the red in his ears as he puts the car in park and turns off the engine, and honestly he really is incredibly pleased about flustering Stiles like that. He looks good with a flush in his skin, and he should maybe be worried that he enjoys it so much. For now, though, he just reaches over and takes the casserole out of Stiles' lap so he can actually get out of the car. ] Mm. C'mon.

[ Stiles is not going to survive this dinner. Between Derek who has been--god, he could swear he's been flirting with him for the past half an hour, and the housewives, who tend to be meddlesome at best, he is probably just going to have to hang himself with his shoelaces before the night is over from sheer embarrassment. ] Someone, somewhere, is probably making fun of me. It's the constant sensation you learn to shut out when you're the Star Wars geek in high school.

[ Passing the casserole over, Stiles opens the door to the cruiser and slides out of the front seat, tugging down his sweater and putting the tupperware full of cookies on his hip as he comes around the other side of the car to walk with him. Comically, Stiles looks from Derek to the house and puts on a mock serious expression. ] I hope you're ready for war, private.

[ Derek has absolutely been flirting, and he should probably stop at some point because he's going to regret every life choice he's ever made in his life if he keeps going. But Stiles is, well. While he's caught off guard, he's also receptive to it once he actually recovers. But the problem now is that they're about to be surrounded by housewives and their families and associates, all of which will latch onto the smallest thing. ] I'm surprised people didn't make fun of me more often if that's the bar we're setting for mockery.

[ He offers him an amused look as he slides out of the car, before he moves to follow suit. Bumping the door shut with his hip, he smooths his hand over his sweater again before he makes his way to meet him halfway. Part of him really wants to retreat, but it's too late now. ]

Not my first time in the trenches. [ And with that, he makes his way forward. ]

People make fun of you? Okay. [ He almost laughs, because let's be real here, Derek is entirely too hot and entirely too amazing to be made fun of. He can't imagine anyone disliking him, because even if he'd come off as abrasive...well, Stiles kind of digs abrasive. But he latches onto the Star Wars joke and just brightens all over. ] Oh, what, you a Jedi at heart?

[ If he likes Star Wars, Stiles is just going to lean over and kiss him smack on the mouth into that little light up deer on Mrs. Johnson's lawn.

Christ.

He fluffs a hand through his dark hair and tries to pretend he's not making himself look good as he walks in easy stride with Derek up to the house, shooting him a look out of the side of his eye before ringing the doorbell. ] Let the warfare begin.

I played baseball and basketball in high school, in between watching Star Wars and Star Trek while trying to decide where my heart lie. [ Leaning a shoulder against the door once they rise to the porch, he angles his head a little to look more at Stiles than at where their focus is supposed to be. His attention has always been immediately drawn to Stiles, regardless of situation, so of course he gets it now. Especially when they're in the midst of flirting.

The corners of his mouth curl downwards even more, and he gently knocks his hip into Stiles' as he hears the occupants of the house light up with the ringing of the doorbell.

Stiles looks good, his hair ruffled and clothes fitting, flattering. Of course his eyes stay on him even as the door starts to open. ] May the Force be with you.

[ And then he straightens up, smiling charmingly at the housewife that opens the door. Obligingly, he lets her pull him in by his forearms, ducking to let her kiss his cheeks above his beard. ] Mrs. Johnson, good to see you.

[ And let the night begin. ]

[ Oh my god.

Stiles is going to die tonight. He is clearly going to die tonight. He rolls his head back in what's basically an eyeroll and mouths "jesus frickin christ" at the sky, and tries to ignore the fact that his heart literally swooped into his stomach at a friggin' star wars joke.

This is so bad, it's not even funny.

Luckily, Mrs. Johnson comes around and Stiles reaches over to greet her too, leaning down to kiss her cheeks in return and offering her the cookies in his arms. She beams at him and Stiles tries to will the blush on his face--when she turns around to take their stuff inside, he elbows Derek in the rib and hisses "you're an asshole", and tries to pretend he's not kind of jittery and happy as they make their way inside. ]

[ Rather than be disgruntled by Stiles elbowing at him, Derek just smiles charmingly at him in a completely different way than he does the older woman. She takes their cookies and the casserole and ushers them into the house, and he simply sets his hand in the small of Stiles' back as they go. It's for just a moment, like he's bracing himself for the inevitable avalanche of excited middle-aged women that have adopted him into their strange family, but then he's swept away like he predicted.

They keep commenting on the fact that he looks happier than usual, and think that they're so sly when they do, like he doesn't know exactly what they're implying every time they titter at him and look off to wherever the kindergarten teacher has been taken off to.

But he can't help but gravitate towards Stiles every time he's given the chance, when he's not sneaking off to the kitchen to escape from them for a couple minutes at a time before someone is sent to retrieve him.

He's so doomed. He really is. ]

crayola doesn't make a color for your eyes.

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