FIC: Movie Night - 1/1, Teen Wolf, PG, Derek/Stiles
Title: Movie Night
Author: Jo (jo@fadedink.com)
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Rating: PG
Word count: 731
Summary: Stiles uncovers another facet to Derek.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I'm just borrowing them for a minute or two. Much love and thanks to Jeff Davis for creating this world.
Author's Notes: Lazy Hazy Summer Daze #20 for soul_cake_duck who feeds the need. ;)
Stiles pokes his head into the door of the loft and looks around. He can hear voices, but (like usual) the lights are all off (even though he knows Derek has the electricity turned on), so all he can see are shadows and a faint glow coming from around the corner.
"Derek?"
"I'm not here," comes the reply, making Stiles snort out a laugh.
"What are you doing?" Stiles lets himself in, figuring that if Derek really wanted to be alone, he would have never answered. Or his answer would have been a growl. Not that that would have really deterred Stiles, but still.
"Nothing," Derek says as the voices go silent and the glow dims.
Curious. "Nothing at all?"
"No."
"So," Stiles says, drawing the word out as he creeps closer, peering around the corner to see Derek sitting on the sofa, his laptop balanced across his thighs. "You're just sitting here in the dark, with your laptop, doing nothing."
"Yes."
Derek's glare is a thing of beauty, and Stiles takes a second to bask in it. Then he creeps closer. "Are you watching porn?"
"What? No," Derek says, a growl creeping into his voice, and that just makes Stiles grin wider.
"No? Because if you are, I can, you know, leave you alone," Stiles says, shoulders jerking in a shrug as he gestures back towards the door. "I mean, you might be an exhibitionist, but I don't think so, so if it's privacy you need, I can totally --"
"Stiles."
"Yeah?"
"Shut up."
"Shutting up," Stiles says, pretending to zip his lips as Derek continues to give him a dark look. Which really shouldn't be as hot as it is. And Stiles shouldn't be nearly as attracted to it as he finds himself, but he is.
Giving up all pretense of subtly (not that he thinks Derek believed it for a second, even though Stiles can be pretty damn subtle if he does say so himself, thanks), he finishes crossing the floor and flops down on the sofa beside Derek.
Who shifts just enough to angle the screen away from Stiles.
"No, seriously, dude." Stiles reaches for the laptop. "What're you watching?"
He gets his hand smacked for his efforts. "A movie," is all Derek says, and Stiles peers at him.
"Yeah, I got that. What movie?"
"Nothing that would interest you."
"How do you know?" Stiles contorts himself in an effort to see the screen. Maybe it's some weird little indie art house flick. Because Stiles could totally see Derek being into that type of film. Probably from his years spent living in New York. "I might like it."
"You wouldn't."
"Prove it."
Derek glares for a few more seconds, then rolls his eyes. Which also shouldn't be nearly as hot as it is, but Stiles has long since given up trying to explain why pretty much everything Derek does around him is hot.
Then Derek shifts back to his original position, looking so out of sorts that Stiles momentarily forgets that he has a clear view of the laptop screen. It's only when Derek clears his throat that Stiles actually looks. And blinks rapidly before narrowing his eyes and leaning closer.
The movie has been paused on two guys sitting inside what looks like a movie theater. Well, okay, one guy and a...corpse. Stiles leans even closer, staring in disbelief. "Dude," he breathes, turning his head just enough to shoot Derek a wide-eyed look. "Are you seriously..."
"Shut. Up."
"You are," Stiles says, sitting up so fast his own head spins. "You're watching An American Werewolf in London!"
"I said --"
"I know, I know, shut up," Stiles says, but his grin is so wide he thinks his face might split in half. Derek is watching a werewolf movie. And not just any werewolf movie, but the werewolf movie.
"It's a classic," Derek mutters, eyebrows drawn into a frown, arms crossing over his chest as he slumps just a little.
"No, it is," Stiles agrees, forcing his face into something close to a neutral position. It's not easy. His eyes dart to the screen again, fascinated at this side of Derek.
"If you laugh..."
"I'm not!" Stiles holds up both hands, protesting his innocence. They lapse into a mostly comfortable silence, then Stiles' elbow nudges Derek's ribs.
"What?"
"Can we watch it from the beginning?"
Author: Jo (jo@fadedink.com)
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Rating: PG
Word count: 731
Summary: Stiles uncovers another facet to Derek.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I'm just borrowing them for a minute or two. Much love and thanks to Jeff Davis for creating this world.
Author's Notes: Lazy Hazy Summer Daze #20 for soul_cake_duck who feeds the need. ;)
Stiles pokes his head into the door of the loft and looks around. He can hear voices, but (like usual) the lights are all off (even though he knows Derek has the electricity turned on), so all he can see are shadows and a faint glow coming from around the corner.
"Derek?"
"I'm not here," comes the reply, making Stiles snort out a laugh.
"What are you doing?" Stiles lets himself in, figuring that if Derek really wanted to be alone, he would have never answered. Or his answer would have been a growl. Not that that would have really deterred Stiles, but still.
"Nothing," Derek says as the voices go silent and the glow dims.
Curious. "Nothing at all?"
"No."
"So," Stiles says, drawing the word out as he creeps closer, peering around the corner to see Derek sitting on the sofa, his laptop balanced across his thighs. "You're just sitting here in the dark, with your laptop, doing nothing."
"Yes."
Derek's glare is a thing of beauty, and Stiles takes a second to bask in it. Then he creeps closer. "Are you watching porn?"
"What? No," Derek says, a growl creeping into his voice, and that just makes Stiles grin wider.
"No? Because if you are, I can, you know, leave you alone," Stiles says, shoulders jerking in a shrug as he gestures back towards the door. "I mean, you might be an exhibitionist, but I don't think so, so if it's privacy you need, I can totally --"
"Stiles."
"Yeah?"
"Shut up."
"Shutting up," Stiles says, pretending to zip his lips as Derek continues to give him a dark look. Which really shouldn't be as hot as it is. And Stiles shouldn't be nearly as attracted to it as he finds himself, but he is.
Giving up all pretense of subtly (not that he thinks Derek believed it for a second, even though Stiles can be pretty damn subtle if he does say so himself, thanks), he finishes crossing the floor and flops down on the sofa beside Derek.
Who shifts just enough to angle the screen away from Stiles.
"No, seriously, dude." Stiles reaches for the laptop. "What're you watching?"
He gets his hand smacked for his efforts. "A movie," is all Derek says, and Stiles peers at him.
"Yeah, I got that. What movie?"
"Nothing that would interest you."
"How do you know?" Stiles contorts himself in an effort to see the screen. Maybe it's some weird little indie art house flick. Because Stiles could totally see Derek being into that type of film. Probably from his years spent living in New York. "I might like it."
"You wouldn't."
"Prove it."
Derek glares for a few more seconds, then rolls his eyes. Which also shouldn't be nearly as hot as it is, but Stiles has long since given up trying to explain why pretty much everything Derek does around him is hot.
Then Derek shifts back to his original position, looking so out of sorts that Stiles momentarily forgets that he has a clear view of the laptop screen. It's only when Derek clears his throat that Stiles actually looks. And blinks rapidly before narrowing his eyes and leaning closer.
The movie has been paused on two guys sitting inside what looks like a movie theater. Well, okay, one guy and a...corpse. Stiles leans even closer, staring in disbelief. "Dude," he breathes, turning his head just enough to shoot Derek a wide-eyed look. "Are you seriously..."
"Shut. Up."
"You are," Stiles says, sitting up so fast his own head spins. "You're watching An American Werewolf in London!"
"I said --"
"I know, I know, shut up," Stiles says, but his grin is so wide he thinks his face might split in half. Derek is watching a werewolf movie. And not just any werewolf movie, but the werewolf movie.
"It's a classic," Derek mutters, eyebrows drawn into a frown, arms crossing over his chest as he slumps just a little.
"No, it is," Stiles agrees, forcing his face into something close to a neutral position. It's not easy. His eyes dart to the screen again, fascinated at this side of Derek.
"If you laugh..."
"I'm not!" Stiles holds up both hands, protesting his innocence. They lapse into a mostly comfortable silence, then Stiles' elbow nudges Derek's ribs.
"What?"
"Can we watch it from the beginning?"