headlong 86/?
Jan. 24th, 2012 09:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
januarylightI think there's only about 10k left of this, thank heavens, so updates may be sporadic as I finish it off.
*
He isn’t very successful at that. He hates his class, hates his professor, and doesn’t even get to have lunch with Jackson, ending up with Danny sitting in surly silence across the table.
“So,” Stiles ventures after the atmosphere becomes oppressive, “what’s up with you and Jackson?”
“Nothing. What’s up with you running your friends out of their den?”
“Den?”
“Whatever,” Danny says impatiently, folding his arms. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” Stiles says. “I mean, I did, but. I just wanted to have sex in peace.”
Danny is still disgruntled. “That doesn’t give you the right—“
“It doesn’t give them the right either, though,” Stiles interrupts, suddenly angry with the judgement. “They don’t have the right to my sex life.”
“Maybe that’s true,” Danny says slowly. “But you’re having sex with their alpha in their home, so maybe it isn’t.”
“It’s my home. It isn’t theirs.”
“Not technically. It’s the only place they have to be pack.”
“Yeah,” Stiles says unhappily. “But they don’t get to—Jackson doesn’t really think he’s going to get to watch me having sex with Derek, does he?” Danny doesn’t answer. “Does he?” Stiles demands.
“I think I got him straightened out,” Danny says, the opposite of reassuring, and then, “Just tell Derek you’re really not into it and he’ll definitely set Jackson straight.”
“Yeah, you are having trouble keeping Jackson straight lately, aren’t you?” Stiles says, and just like that Danny’s glaring again, and they spend the rest of their lunch bickering over Jackson’s nonexistent virtue. Or, well, extant in the Catholic-girl way, since he’s probably saving his gay virginity for Danny. Danny does not react well to that opinion, and Stiles is temporarily glad to get back to class, gladder still to be done for the day, even if Lydia and Allison are already there when he gets home so he has to give up all hope of getting Derek to turn the heat on the stove down low and sneaking a round in.
“We could,” Derek says, grinning at Stiles’ complaint while Lydia shoots daggers from across the room, but, “No!” Stiles says, heeding Danny’s advice. “I am so not into exhibitionism, like, at all.”
“I can hear you,” Lydia says loudly. “Exhibitionist. I got here early on purpose because I didn’t want to end up like poor Scott. I value the sanctity of my eyes.”
“Does everybody know about that?”
“Sorry,” Allison says, trying to hide her grin.
She looks better. She’s sober, anyway, and she says she went to class. Scott didn’t, and Stiles has been ducking increasingly desperate calls from Jeremy all day.
“I know what you did here yesterday,” Lydia says, louder. “You didn’t even clean up. You are both disgusting. Derek, why didn’t you clean up?”
Derek is grinning, proud of himself and not even trying to hide it. Stiles is flushed with humiliation. “No need to be jealous,” he tries.
“Why would I be? I’m not the one who isn’t getting any. Sorry,” she tells Allison, and she sounds like she means it but she keeps saying that shit anyway.
Allison hides her wince quickly. “That’s okay,” she says quietly. “I know that’s true.” Lydia snaps her mouth shut and changes the subject.
Stiles fiddles with his phone in his pocket, thinking about calling Scott, giving him a heads up, knowing he should but really not wanting to, not wanting to admit to having had a hand in this. He fiddles and considers and puts off until he hears a key in the door and seriously. He doesn’t care if this is the pack’s home away from home or whatever, he is getting those keys back. They can always break in if it’s really an emergency.
Jackson and Danny appear, and Stiles relaxes, thinking he’s safe for another little while, he can put up with Danny no problem, but they leave the door open and Scott slips inside a second later.
*
He isn’t very successful at that. He hates his class, hates his professor, and doesn’t even get to have lunch with Jackson, ending up with Danny sitting in surly silence across the table.
“So,” Stiles ventures after the atmosphere becomes oppressive, “what’s up with you and Jackson?”
“Nothing. What’s up with you running your friends out of their den?”
“Den?”
“Whatever,” Danny says impatiently, folding his arms. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” Stiles says. “I mean, I did, but. I just wanted to have sex in peace.”
Danny is still disgruntled. “That doesn’t give you the right—“
“It doesn’t give them the right either, though,” Stiles interrupts, suddenly angry with the judgement. “They don’t have the right to my sex life.”
“Maybe that’s true,” Danny says slowly. “But you’re having sex with their alpha in their home, so maybe it isn’t.”
“It’s my home. It isn’t theirs.”
“Not technically. It’s the only place they have to be pack.”
“Yeah,” Stiles says unhappily. “But they don’t get to—Jackson doesn’t really think he’s going to get to watch me having sex with Derek, does he?” Danny doesn’t answer. “Does he?” Stiles demands.
“I think I got him straightened out,” Danny says, the opposite of reassuring, and then, “Just tell Derek you’re really not into it and he’ll definitely set Jackson straight.”
“Yeah, you are having trouble keeping Jackson straight lately, aren’t you?” Stiles says, and just like that Danny’s glaring again, and they spend the rest of their lunch bickering over Jackson’s nonexistent virtue. Or, well, extant in the Catholic-girl way, since he’s probably saving his gay virginity for Danny. Danny does not react well to that opinion, and Stiles is temporarily glad to get back to class, gladder still to be done for the day, even if Lydia and Allison are already there when he gets home so he has to give up all hope of getting Derek to turn the heat on the stove down low and sneaking a round in.
“We could,” Derek says, grinning at Stiles’ complaint while Lydia shoots daggers from across the room, but, “No!” Stiles says, heeding Danny’s advice. “I am so not into exhibitionism, like, at all.”
“I can hear you,” Lydia says loudly. “Exhibitionist. I got here early on purpose because I didn’t want to end up like poor Scott. I value the sanctity of my eyes.”
“Does everybody know about that?”
“Sorry,” Allison says, trying to hide her grin.
She looks better. She’s sober, anyway, and she says she went to class. Scott didn’t, and Stiles has been ducking increasingly desperate calls from Jeremy all day.
“I know what you did here yesterday,” Lydia says, louder. “You didn’t even clean up. You are both disgusting. Derek, why didn’t you clean up?”
Derek is grinning, proud of himself and not even trying to hide it. Stiles is flushed with humiliation. “No need to be jealous,” he tries.
“Why would I be? I’m not the one who isn’t getting any. Sorry,” she tells Allison, and she sounds like she means it but she keeps saying that shit anyway.
Allison hides her wince quickly. “That’s okay,” she says quietly. “I know that’s true.” Lydia snaps her mouth shut and changes the subject.
Stiles fiddles with his phone in his pocket, thinking about calling Scott, giving him a heads up, knowing he should but really not wanting to, not wanting to admit to having had a hand in this. He fiddles and considers and puts off until he hears a key in the door and seriously. He doesn’t care if this is the pack’s home away from home or whatever, he is getting those keys back. They can always break in if it’s really an emergency.
Jackson and Danny appear, and Stiles relaxes, thinking he’s safe for another little while, he can put up with Danny no problem, but they leave the door open and Scott slips inside a second later.
