[ it's all over. the darach is gone; derek's gone; the alphas are dead or done, no longer a threat. and scott and stiles are still here, alive (mostly), and scott made a promise.
it's a ritual they used to play out more often: raid the pantry, build a nest on the couch, settle in for the long haul. there's a current of nostalgia that keeps the enthusiasm going this time, yet it's still dangerously close to going through the motions. they end up at stiles' house because the sheriff's on a late shift (and less likely to get mad about the mess), and they barely make it through episode IV before all the careful planning goes to waste.
the repetitive beat of the dvd's title screen is what wakes scott up; it's the beat of stiles' heart that keeps him from drifting off again, the fact that it's uncomfortably quiet despite the fact that scott's head is resting against the side of his chest. there's no distinct memory of how they ended up like this - probably scott leaning on stiles, then stiles leaning on the armrest and the both of them sprawling out as lazy kids are wont to do - but scott's not surprised. it's hardly the first time they've passed out in a pile, an inevitability of being inseperable - especially before, when their idea of a "party" was just the two of them, doing absolutely nothing productive and staying up well past midnight.
there's familiarity in it. the contact, stiles' scent, the rhythm in his chest. it's enough to keep scott there, and his voice is slightly hesitant when he speaks, wary of breaking the calm. ]
[ stiles makes a soft humming noise. he smells like dreams, even though he's thankfully not having any. this isn't the first time he's fallen asleep to this particular dvd, and it probably won't be the last. there's something lulling about the movie at this point, as comforting and familiar as the safety of his house and scott's warm weight over him. ]
[ stiles is tactile and always has been — the stilinski family is big on hugging. being slept on doesn't really bother him, and he just slings a sleep-heavy arm over scott's waist in response. how much of that is to stop him going anywhere and how much is just the comfort of his arm isn't clear until he follows it up with a mumble. ]
I've gotcha, buddy.
[ he's got scott. scott can save everyone else, and stiles will be there afterwards for things like this — marathons of nerdy movies, bags of cheese snacks, and the promise of a solid presence. he shifts his cheek out of the drool spot he's left on his upper arm, curls his fingers slightly against scott's side. ]
[ a few months ago - a few weeks ago, even - scott might've responded to that with a grin, something a bit more enthusiastic and young. but that was a lifetime ago, very literally, and now all he does is tense for half a second before relaxing, settling into the contact. the brief tension's got nothing to do with the affection; that makes sense, is easy to slip into. it's just the effort of letting down your guard after building a fucking fortress, and it's to stiles' credit that he breaks it down so quickly.
scott's focus shifts back to stiles' heartbeat, and there's another stretch of silence, one hand settling on stiles' chest. it's confirmation of the steady pulse. he can feel it against his fingertips, softened by sleep, and somehow between that and the sound it still seems - weak, muted. not enough. ]
Did you ever read Heart of Darkness?
[ it's probably a stupid question, but he doesn't sound embarrassed to be asking it. there isn't really a subtle segue for this discussion. ]
[ stiles still sounds muzzy, like he just woke up, but he's doing his best to keep up with the conversation even if he already feels like he might have missed something. ]
We're studying it for English, aren't we? I've been kinda busy.
[ stopping their english teacher from killing people. mostly ineffectively. just thinking about that wakes stiles' up a little more, enough that he can rediscover the thick, sick guilt that's waiting for him. great. he ignores it, as has been his go-to strategy since heather died. ]
Plus it's boring. Would it kill Joe Conrad to lighten up a little?
[ the casual mockery is strained, his voice worn thin, and while he really isn't into heart of darkness it's kind of just an easy target, riffing on the assigned reading. stiles' heart isn't in it. which is probably the point. ]
[ it is the point, of course, and scott can see it: the mockery's muted, just like stiles' heartbeat. which is a completely melodramatic observation, and scott half suspects he's imagining all of it; but maybe that's the point, too.
stiles' response is a weak (failed) effort at levity, but scott appreciates it anyway. he shifts slightly to press up closer to stiles, allowing him more leverage to splay fingers over his chest and press his palm to his heart, applying a steady, light pressure. the gesture's a closer mirror of their usual easy contact, if only because scott's too distracted to overthink it. ]
It reminded me of— [ us. it's not exactly a kind observation, calling their lives dull and in desperate need of lightening up, honest as it is. the thought stops him up short, but scott gets over the hesitation quickly. ]
It's about a guy who faces darkness alone and goes completely nuts.
[ the blunt and overly simplistic summary would almost be funny if it weren't for the fact that it's terrifyingly easy to relate, and the flat humor's a solid match for stiles' failed attempt. ]
[ scott slides closer and stiles gives a soft huff, breath ruffling scott's hair. he finally gets that scott's hand is over his heart, that maybe this is what's with the heart of darkness stuff. ]
Thank you, Scott.
[ stiles bitches, mildly sarcastic, and that particular bite hasn't weakened in the slightest. ]
That's really reassuring, buddy, that you think we're gonna go crazy.
[ it's not so much defensive as it is a bit petulant, but that's just due to being tired, thoughts elsewhere. the comment's still quick, and it's very nearly confident.
there's another delay, the heat of his hand warming stiles' chest. then scott abruptly moves it to awkwardly shift himself over, dragging his free arm out from where it's been trapped under stiles. he doesn't move away: if anything, he ends up cramming himself in closer, dragging himself up a bit to so he can actually look at stiles' face. ]
Is it really bad if I say I'm glad you did it too?
[ not just stiles. stiles and allison, and scott, all dead and scarred or whatever this is. there's some genuine humor in his voice, finally, but it's self-aware; he knows it's bad, but he's glad anyway - they're not alone, if nothing else. ]
[ stiles murmurs, looking away, uncomfortable with meeting scott's eyes right at this exact moment. it's not the physical closeness, but he still can't remember scott standing in front of the bus in a puddle of gasoline without getting a little vulnerable. ]
I'm with you. No matter what.
[ it's too serious for snuggling on the couch lit by the dvd, but their lives are too serious now, that's scott's point. stiles finally looks back at him, tries for amusement again, but mostly what creases the corner of his eyes is fondness. it's not like he's loyal to scott out of some obligation. ]
If you weren't at least a little appreciative, I'd be offended.
no subject
no subject
it's a ritual they used to play out more often: raid the pantry, build a nest on the couch, settle in for the long haul. there's a current of nostalgia that keeps the enthusiasm going this time, yet it's still dangerously close to going through the motions. they end up at stiles' house because the sheriff's on a late shift (and less likely to get mad about the mess), and they barely make it through episode IV before all the careful planning goes to waste.
the repetitive beat of the dvd's title screen is what wakes scott up; it's the beat of stiles' heart that keeps him from drifting off again, the fact that it's uncomfortably quiet despite the fact that scott's head is resting against the side of his chest. there's no distinct memory of how they ended up like this - probably scott leaning on stiles, then stiles leaning on the armrest and the both of them sprawling out as lazy kids are wont to do - but scott's not surprised. it's hardly the first time they've passed out in a pile, an inevitability of being inseperable - especially before, when their idea of a "party" was just the two of them, doing absolutely nothing productive and staying up well past midnight.
there's familiarity in it. the contact, stiles' scent, the rhythm in his chest. it's enough to keep scott there, and his voice is slightly hesitant when he speaks, wary of breaking the calm. ]
Stiles?
no subject
[ stiles is tactile and always has been — the stilinski family is big on hugging. being slept on doesn't really bother him, and he just slings a sleep-heavy arm over scott's waist in response. how much of that is to stop him going anywhere and how much is just the comfort of his arm isn't clear until he follows it up with a mumble. ]
I've gotcha, buddy.
[ he's got scott. scott can save everyone else, and stiles will be there afterwards for things like this — marathons of nerdy movies, bags of cheese snacks, and the promise of a solid presence. he shifts his cheek out of the drool spot he's left on his upper arm, curls his fingers slightly against scott's side. ]
no subject
scott's focus shifts back to stiles' heartbeat, and there's another stretch of silence, one hand settling on stiles' chest. it's confirmation of the steady pulse. he can feel it against his fingertips, softened by sleep, and somehow between that and the sound it still seems - weak, muted. not enough. ]
Did you ever read Heart of Darkness?
[ it's probably a stupid question, but he doesn't sound embarrassed to be asking it. there isn't really a subtle segue for this discussion. ]
man idk why this isn't just ax canon lbr
[ stiles still sounds muzzy, like he just woke up, but he's doing his best to keep up with the conversation even if he already feels like he might have missed something. ]
We're studying it for English, aren't we? I've been kinda busy.
[ stopping their english teacher from killing people. mostly ineffectively. just thinking about that wakes stiles' up a little more, enough that he can rediscover the thick, sick guilt that's waiting for him. great. he ignores it, as has been his go-to strategy since heather died. ]
Plus it's boring. Would it kill Joe Conrad to lighten up a little?
[ the casual mockery is strained, his voice worn thin, and while he really isn't into heart of darkness it's kind of just an easy target, riffing on the assigned reading. stiles' heart isn't in it. which is probably the point. ]
who says it isn't!!
stiles' response is a weak (failed) effort at levity, but scott appreciates it anyway. he shifts slightly to press up closer to stiles, allowing him more leverage to splay fingers over his chest and press his palm to his heart, applying a steady, light pressure. the gesture's a closer mirror of their usual easy contact, if only because scott's too distracted to overthink it. ]
It reminded me of— [ us. it's not exactly a kind observation, calling their lives dull and in desperate need of lightening up, honest as it is. the thought stops him up short, but scott gets over the hesitation quickly. ]
It's about a guy who faces darkness alone and goes completely nuts.
[ the blunt and overly simplistic summary would almost be funny if it weren't for the fact that it's terrifyingly easy to relate, and the flat humor's a solid match for stiles' failed attempt. ]
HAHA haha sob
Thank you, Scott.
[ stiles bitches, mildly sarcastic, and that particular bite hasn't weakened in the slightest. ]
That's really reassuring, buddy, that you think we're gonna go crazy.
HAHA haha sob a summary of teen wolf
[ it's not so much defensive as it is a bit petulant, but that's just due to being tired, thoughts elsewhere. the comment's still quick, and it's very nearly confident.
there's another delay, the heat of his hand warming stiles' chest. then scott abruptly moves it to awkwardly shift himself over, dragging his free arm out from where it's been trapped under stiles. he doesn't move away: if anything, he ends up cramming himself in closer, dragging himself up a bit to so he can actually look at stiles' face. ]
Is it really bad if I say I'm glad you did it too?
[ not just stiles. stiles and allison, and scott, all dead and scarred or whatever this is. there's some genuine humor in his voice, finally, but it's self-aware; he knows it's bad, but he's glad anyway - they're not alone, if nothing else. ]
no subject
[ stiles murmurs, looking away, uncomfortable with meeting scott's eyes right at this exact moment. it's not the physical closeness, but he still can't remember scott standing in front of the bus in a puddle of gasoline without getting a little vulnerable. ]
I'm with you. No matter what.
[ it's too serious for snuggling on the couch lit by the dvd, but their lives are too serious now, that's scott's point. stiles finally looks back at him, tries for amusement again, but mostly what creases the corner of his eyes is fondness. it's not like he's loyal to scott out of some obligation. ]
If you weren't at least a little appreciative, I'd be offended.