or say we're only dreaming;

[melocoton]

O P E N P O S T
❝ don't you dare close your eyes❞
♥ comment to this post with a prompt of any kind--song lyrics, pictures, music, or even just an idea for a plot.
♥ request one of my muses from my desperately needing an update muselist
♥ i'll respond to it and we can thread some stuff and things.
♥ post is NOT nsfw sorry ;A;

Comments

uwu*

[hypercompetent]

[ Would it really be so bad if Stiles was hitting on Derek? He'd be congratulating himself for his smoothness, because this would have been the perfect segue into asking him out.

But this is not a perfect world, and this is Stiles. His face goes bright red and he throws his hands up like he's trying to physically push that idea away, because, well--he only wishes it was about him and Derek. ] I--yes, uh, not for us but--it's for Scott!

[ Scott's been around most summers; he's Stiles' attachment, which means wherever Stiles goes, Scott follows, so he's spent a good amount of time at the House of Hale, too. That was part of why Stiles had offered the venue for a proposal, because not only is it beautiful here, but the Hales would make sure it went off without a hitch. He wasn't worried about Kira saying yes--she would--it was just a matter of making sure that everything in the bed and breakfast was ready for it. Including Stiles.

And Derek.

Right. He was explaining how he totally wasn't trying to hit on him. It doesn't help that Derek's arm is around his waist, either, his palm hot against his side, and it's making Stiles feel kind of squirmy all over. He can pretend it doesn't, right? ]

The man, the legend, Scott McCall is here for the weekend, and not to take samples of everything I cook this time. Nay, he is getting married. [ A beat. ] Or, well, getting on the road to getting married. He's gotta ask her first.

[ And now he gestures at the pancakes. See look! Convincing. ]

[triskeles]

[ It wouldn't be bad, but Derek is a little sideswiped by the idea that Stiles is being... well, direct about it. He's very aware that they flirt frequently, because that's essentially what they do when they banter and it's more lighthearted.

He should probably draw his hand away from where it's settled, but it's strangely comfortable where they're situated. Not that it's particularly new, given the fact that they don't know what personal space is. ]

Scott. [ Right, of course. Scott is a constant presence when Stiles is here, and sometimes it's to help out as a worker, sometimes it's just as a visitor. This weekend, he's actually listed as a guest. Derek had seen him jittering around yesterday, watched him sign his name into the book with a nervous scrawl. He'd come in with his girlfriend, also a common visitor, and it was sort of sweet. They were sickeningly cute, like sunshine embodied in two people reunited or something equally as poetic.

And, with Stiles' explanation, he gets it. A small hum leaves him, and it's only then that he draws his hand away from his waist. He gives the plate in front of him a quick look, eyeballing it before he's looking up at Stiles again. ]

So that's why he's actually signed in as a legitimate guest and not just a freeloader hanging around you. [ Reaching, he picks up the coffee instead of going for the pancakes. He breathes it in briefly, pretends that his heart doesn't squeeze in his chest when he picks up the familiar brew, and takes a sip. ]

[hypercompetent]

That's right, a legitimate guest. Who everything has to be perfect for. [ Stiles nods as Derek's hands come free, and pretends that he doesn't feel a tiny bit relieved, if only because it felt like his heart was going to flutter out of his chest. God this was bad.

But, he's going to use this handy Scott related distraction to save himself. Stiles hops up on the desk behind the counter and steals a strawberry off of Derek's plate, because his pancakes are, in fact, banging, and he would totally give his own compliments to the chef. ] Scott is so freaked out I'm just kind of waiting for him to puke in the bushes. I don't know why--I mean, they've been together since high school. They have been together as long as I have been actual-dating-age-single, and that, my friend, that is impressive. I have a track record, they're going to have precious tan ninja babies.

[ And Stiles is so going to be their godfather. Honestly, the whole thing makes him a little giddy, and he kicks his feet idly where he's off of the ground, shamelessly swiping another strawberry and trying not to smile when he sees Derek breathe in the coffee, which he knows he made perfectly. ]

[triskeles]

Precious tan ninja babies. I wonder about the things that come out of your mouth sometimes. [ Derek shakes his head at Stiles slowly, before he takes a sip of his coffee. It is, actually, perfect, and he continues to pretend that it doesn't slowly do things like build knots in his chest. Someday he'll unravel them, but apparently Stiles is determined to get them so entangled in his ribs with the things he does.

Sighing out something quiet and content, he swats Stiles' hand away-- gently, instead of giving him the usual sound slap on the top of his palm-- from his plate, because stop stealing the strawberries before he can try them with the rest of the plate. ]

I'm sure everything will go fine. They make disgusting doe eyes at each other constantly, there's no way she'd say no even if a bomb went off. Which one won't, so the garden will be fine. [ He picks up the silverware as he speaks, calmly cutting a wedge out of the pancakes and stabbing a strawberry before Stiles can steal it too.

And then he goes quiet as he eats it, head tipped a little in consideration while he chews. It's only when he swallows that he actually gives a verdict. ]

And they'll have an amazing breakfast in bed.