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[hypercompetent]

Yo, this is Stiles. I'm out saving the world or something, so leave me a message and I'll get back to you.
text > voicemail > email > whatever!

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[hypercompetent]

[ he wants to know--oh lord, he wants to know so badly--but stiles watches him lick the frosting off of his thumb and completely forgets about it. for as miserable as he's been feeling, he really cannot ignore that derek is kind of ridiculously, absurdly fine.

like, that should just be unfair, right there. when he's got the energy to feel turned on again, that's gonna be a month's worth of shower fodder.

tipping over a little, the teenager instead rests his cheek against derek's shoulder, taking another bite of the cake. he's exhausted, and even sitting up for a long time is getting to him, but at least he's here. it's a good chance to reflect back on everything's that happened, to quietly, secretly be glad that he's here instead of home.

he speaks up a little quietly after swallowing down another bite. ] ...thanks, dude.

[ for everything, is pretty well implied there. ]

[triskeles]

[ It won't be long before Stiles' curiosity wins out against his exhaustion or various distractions, but for now he seems sated with his cake and is too tired for much of anything but sitting there and... really, this is probably the slowest he's ever seen the teenager eat anything.

Letting him settle against his shoulder, he shifts to curl his arm gently around him as he props his cheek on top of his head. Some part of him has to wonder about when this became such a comfortable arrangement, but he doesn't question it. Instead, he just settles there, a soft sound in the back of his throat.

They're both tired, and they've been through a lot of hell between Beacon Hills and Wonderland, but they've gotten through it together. ]

Any time. [ And he means it, too. ]