Could Be Creepier Mansion, Thursday Afternoon

[justlurkinghere]

Tomorrow was the lunar eclipse and Derek had plans on how to get through it. Plans that did not involve incomprehensible plots or getting beat up by a crazy Druid because 'that was his special ability', thanks.

Plans that meant he was getting ready to bake. It involved a lot of glaring at the ingredients before he started out with the measuring.

[[Open! Specific brownie type NFB. Warnings for cannabis! That's right, I'm calling it that.]]

Comments

[robinonadderall]

"Dude, I don't want any," Stiles said. "My dad would let alcohol slide but if he ever found out I did drugs he'd kill me. Well, he'd kill you and then send me to like a Catholic boarding school or something."

[justlurkinghere]

"Thanks." For letting him die in this hypothetical.

[robinonadderall]

"It wouldn't be good for anybody," he said with a shrug. "My dad's been talking to Chris Argent so I know he knows how to kill a werewolf now."

[justlurkinghere]

And there went Derek's thoughts that the sheriff wasn't going to kill him for this whole thing happening here. "Right."

[robinonadderall]

Stiles took note of the look on Derek's face before rolling his eyes. "He wouldn't actually kill you for that. He's not an asshole."

[justlurkinghere]

You don't know that! He hadn't thought Kate was a psychopath either!

Derek went with a tried and true glare before dropping the butter into a sauce pan to melt.

[robinonadderall]

That just earned Derek another eye roll. The Sheriff was the best, okay? He would hear nothing that said otherwise.

"So I was catching up on radio while I was waiting for my portal this morning and I heard something weird."

[justlurkinghere]

"Weird how?"

[robinonadderall]

"You wearing a stud muffin shirt weird." So, yeah, that was pretty weird.

[justlurkinghere]

"It was a slow week. Radio must have been making things up."

Liiiiiiiiues.

[robinonadderall]

"You do know I can go to the bar and confirm this story with Tiny and the DJ, right?" Stiles asked. "It's weird, 'cause I have a stud muffin shirt that I could have sworn I left around here somewhere."

[justlurkinghere]

You're awful!

"I just grabbed a shirt. It wasn't a conscious choice."

[robinonadderall]

"Suuuuuure," Stiles drawled. "It's okay if you wanted to advertise the fact you're a stud muffin. No shame in that."

[justlurkinghere]

"I don't need to advertise." With those guns of his.

[robinonadderall]

"Yeah, okay, stud muffin," he said. "I can't believe you wore one of my shirts."

[justlurkinghere]

"You're wearing one of mine right now." This was all just levels of wrong.

[robinonadderall]

"I actually fit in your shirts," Stiles said. "I remember from the whole Miguel experience that you don't really fit in mine."

[justlurkinghere]

"It fit in the shoulders." You know, it was just tight in the chest.

Derek took a moment to think about how not okay that was.

[robinonadderall]

"Uh huh," he said, looking amused. "So what did you do while I was away? Other than try on my clothes, I mean."

[justlurkinghere]

"Deleted your Netflix queue. Bought drugs." He shrugged as he added said drugs to the melting butter. "Read Little Women."

God, he hated everyone in that book.

"What did you do?"

[robinonadderall]

There was a frown at the mention of Derek reading another book for Ms. Day, but he, of course, didn't mention it. "I did exactly what I said I was going to do--hung out with Allison and Lydia."

And, you know, had horrific nightmares that didn't make any sense.

[justlurkinghere]

"You look tired." Deal with his pointed declarations.

[robinonadderall]

"I am tired," he admitted. "I guess being near the nemeton set something off. Allison looks worse than I do."

[justlurkinghere]

Derek sublimated his annoyance about that by stirring the mixture in the pan. It was possibly because he'd never made this around humans or during the eclipse itself that he did not realize there might be a little bit of contact high for the cooking process.

Oops?

"How bad?"

[robinonadderall]

"It doesn't really matter, now does it?" Stiles wrinkled up his nose at the smell of pot wafting through the air. He had been at enough parties to recognize it, but he wasn't particularly a fan.