Who: Derek and Stiles What: The definition of bro time. When: Wednesday, September 10th, afternoon. Where: Stiles' house. Rating/Warnings: R for descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adults. Status: Completed 9/30
Stiles' dad had returned from his marathon to find Stiles "ill", and it had taken all Stiles' skills of persuasion to convince his dad he was okay being left alone for a few days while his dad was at a conference for his work. He hated lying to his dad, but since it seemed like he didn't have memories from the other universe, there was no point in telling him the truth about it. Which, oddly, paralleled the Other!Stiles' life, or at least part of it. He was still sorting through what had happened during the nightmares with the nogitsune. It seemed to be as if he'd gotten memories at the same time as the weirdness had happened--which was, apparently, a thing that happened in the OC, though Stiles' had never noticed before.
But after everyone else's nightmares had gone away, Stiles' had lingered. He Dreamed of being possessed, of having no control of his body, of hurting people, killing people. It was terrifying to see himself not as himself, and it'd occurred to him that in some ways, the nogitsune was the monster that he was afraid Peter Hale would become.
It'd freaked him out enough that when Pepper had encouraged him to take some time off with her "Sorry about your Nightmares!" consolation bouquet, he'd happily agreed. As a result, he'd spent most of Monday and Tuesday in a haze of sugar and video games, coming up for air long enough to reassure his dad he wasn't going to get fired, and to catch up with Valarnet--which, nothing interesting, really, except that Derek had posted that he was turning into a werewolf. An Alpha werewolf. Which. Yeah, Stiles wasn't sure what to think about that.
Flirting had sort of happened. Which. Stiles wasn't sure how he felt about that, since it was public, and he knew that Cora read Derek's blog. But there'd been no mention of The Kiss, so there was that. Apparently they weren't talking about it yet. But they'd have to today, right? It would be awkward to keep pretending that it hadn't happened, even if it had happened what felt like a lifetime ago.
He wasn't sure if Derek was even going to text, but he figured there was no harm in preparing in case he did. Which meant showering. And brushing his teeth. And maybe straightening up his room a little, or at least, putting on fresh sheets and making sure lube and condoms were easily locatable but not immediately visible. He had no idea if he and Derek were at a point where lube and condoms would enter into the conversation but there was no harm in being prepared, right? Or being optimistic that one day they would?