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tamingthemuseTitle: Double Trouble [2/?]
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 452 - scullion(s)
Warnings: Canon divergence. Future fic. Slightly cracky.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1230
Summary: So, Stiles being Stiles plus amateur witches somehow equals two Stileses.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.
-- = --
Somehow after dinner, Stiles and Stu end up on dishes duty. Stiles thinks there was some sort of vote while they were in the kitchen dishing up their plates because the house clears once everyone else is done eating. Stiles and Stu sit at the table alone while Stiles’ dad retires to the living room with Melissa and a cup of coffee for each of them. “Don’t forget the pans,” he tells Stiles.
Stiles glances at Stu, who valiantly ignores him. “Don’t look at me,” Stu says, eyes firmly on his plate while he tries to get the last few grains of rice onto his fork.
“You’re helping,” Stiles tells him.
“No, I’m not.”
“Uh, yeah, you are. Come on. You can wash, I’ll dry and put away.”
That finally draws Stu’s attention. “What?”
“What what?”
“Don’t you have a dishwasher?”
“It’s just me and my dad. What’s the point?”
Stu gestures at the leftover serving dishes in the middle of the table and all the empty chairs around it, looking back at Stiles with raised brows.
“This was unusual,” Stiles says. “At least, before I left this was unusual. Things could’ve changed.” He shrugs. “Regardless.”
When Stiles gets up, Stu sighs, pushing back from the table and following. “Fine. But you can wash.”
“But you don’t…” Stiles trails off with a frown.
“Know where anything goes?” Stu finishes for him. “Yeah, man, I do. I live in the same house, remember?”
“Kind of hard to forget.”
They’re just finishing up when Melissa comes into the kitchen with her empty mug. She hands it to Stiles. “I’m going. Try not to drive your father too crazy.” Squeezing his shoulder, she turns towards Stu. “It was nice meeting you. These guys are pretty well-versed in strange, supernatural matters. I’m sure they’ll get you home soon.”
Stu grins at her. “Thanks, Melissa.” Stiles knows, from their extensive conversations comparing their lives, that Stu and AU-Scott aren’t all that different than Stiles and his Scott, and that Stu’s mother (and wasn’t that a hard thing to accept, that his mother was still alive out there in some other reality?) and AU-Melissa were practically BFFs.
Stiles’ Melissa offers them both a warm smile. “Goodnight, boys.”
Stiles sketches a wave at her with a soapy hand and goes back to the last of the pans. When he passes off the last one to Stu to be dried, he drains the wash water and rinses out the sponge to wipe down the counters and stove. Once they’re done, Stiles heads for the living room where he can hear the TV still on at a low volume. His dad’s dozing on the couch. Stiles puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes him gently. “Hey.”
His dad blinks awake. “Going to bed?”
“Soon. I’m gonna move the jeep into the garage, then I can unpack everything tomorrow.”
His dad nods, sitting up straighter and glancing towards the doorway where Stu lingers hesitantly. “You need anything, Stu?”
Stu shakes his head. “No, Da- sir.” He makes a face. “This is so weird.”
Stiles’ dad grins tiredly. “You’re telling me. Every time I think I’ve gotten used to things around here, I get thrown another curve ball.”
“Baseball metaphors, Dad? Really?” Stiles asks. He glances back at Stu. “I’ll be right back. You guys… talk. Or whatever.”
Stu gives him a nod as he passes. Stiles takes his time moving the jeep into the garage. He dawdles, going through some of the things packed tightly into the back, grabs his laptop, a basket of laundry, and a duffle full of clean clothes.
When he gets back inside, his dad is just releasing Stu from a hug and Stu’s eyes look suspiciously glassy. (The subject of his dad was one of the only things Stu kept quiet about. Stiles thinks something happened to him, but he doesn’t know for sure.) Stiles gives his dad an extra-long, tight hug. “Night, Dad.”
“Goodnight,” his dad says. “I’ll see you boys in the morning.”
Stiles watches him head for the stairs, then turns to Stu. “You can have the bathroom first. I’ll get the guest room set up for you.”
“Thanks, Stiles,” Stu says to the carpet. He still looks kind of emotional and Stiles doesn’t think he can handle it if Stu starts crying.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says dismissively, leading him up the stairs. “Come on. It’s been a long day and I’m beat.”
“Do you really think you can send me home?” Stu asks a minute later from the doorway to the bathroom.
“Yeah, I do. I’ve still got some books here I can look through, some stuff on my laptop, plus Deaton’s gonna help. If it comes down to it, we can go back to Berkeley and find that coven. They shouldn’t be too hard to track down.”
Stu nods again then disappears into the bathroom.
Stiles goes about changing the bedding in the guest room and setting out a couple changes of clothes. He hangs out in the doorway to his own room until Stu emerges from the bathroom. “Any specific time you want to be up tomorrow?” he asks.
Stu just shrugs and shakes his head.
“Okay. Goodnight, then.”
“‘Night,” Stu says, heading into the guest room and closing the door.
Stiles quickly washes his face and brushes his teeth, returning to his room to undress and climb into bed with his laptop. He’s barely gotten comfortable when there’s a tap at his window. With a sigh, he gets back up and pulls back the curtain to see Derek lurking on the roof. Stiles opens the window to let him in. “Not the werewolf I was expecting,” he says.
“I think Scott’s still trying to wrap his mind around the whole thing,” Derek replies.
“You’re probably right. What did you need?”
“Figured you’d be getting right into research mode. Thought I’d offer to help.”
Stiles eyes him skeptically. “Uh huh.”
Derek just looks at him expectantly, eyebrows arched high.
“I think I’ve still got a couple books on magic,” he says, heading for his closet. When he turns around, Derek’s shoes are kicked off at the foot of his bed and Derek’s reclining against his headboard, looking perfectly at home. Stiles doesn’t say anything, entirely aware that his heartbeat and scent are probably saying enough. Instead, he flops down next to Derek and drops the books is his lap unceremoniously.
Derek smirks and bumps their shoulders together. “It’s nice to see that nothing’s changed.”
Stiles snorts. “Says the werewolf who still hasn’t learned how to use the front door after hours.”
“I didn’t want to disturb your father.”
“Uh huh. And you couldn’t call? Text? Wait until tomorrow?” He fixes Derek with a look and is caught off-guard when Derek catches and holds his gaze for a long stretch of moments. “Old habits die hard, right?” he asks, finally glancing away.
“Something,” Derek says. He’s quiet for a minute, picking up the top book from the pile and opening it. “It’s good to have you home.”
Stiles looks at him out of the corner of his eye, sees that Derek’s attention is focused on the book in his hands. He sways sideways, knocks his shoulder into Derek’s. “It’s good to be home.”
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 452 - scullion(s)
Warnings: Canon divergence. Future fic. Slightly cracky.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1230
Summary: So, Stiles being Stiles plus amateur witches somehow equals two Stileses.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.
Somehow after dinner, Stiles and Stu end up on dishes duty. Stiles thinks there was some sort of vote while they were in the kitchen dishing up their plates because the house clears once everyone else is done eating. Stiles and Stu sit at the table alone while Stiles’ dad retires to the living room with Melissa and a cup of coffee for each of them. “Don’t forget the pans,” he tells Stiles.
Stiles glances at Stu, who valiantly ignores him. “Don’t look at me,” Stu says, eyes firmly on his plate while he tries to get the last few grains of rice onto his fork.
“You’re helping,” Stiles tells him.
“No, I’m not.”
“Uh, yeah, you are. Come on. You can wash, I’ll dry and put away.”
That finally draws Stu’s attention. “What?”
“What what?”
“Don’t you have a dishwasher?”
“It’s just me and my dad. What’s the point?”
Stu gestures at the leftover serving dishes in the middle of the table and all the empty chairs around it, looking back at Stiles with raised brows.
“This was unusual,” Stiles says. “At least, before I left this was unusual. Things could’ve changed.” He shrugs. “Regardless.”
When Stiles gets up, Stu sighs, pushing back from the table and following. “Fine. But you can wash.”
“But you don’t…” Stiles trails off with a frown.
“Know where anything goes?” Stu finishes for him. “Yeah, man, I do. I live in the same house, remember?”
“Kind of hard to forget.”
They’re just finishing up when Melissa comes into the kitchen with her empty mug. She hands it to Stiles. “I’m going. Try not to drive your father too crazy.” Squeezing his shoulder, she turns towards Stu. “It was nice meeting you. These guys are pretty well-versed in strange, supernatural matters. I’m sure they’ll get you home soon.”
Stu grins at her. “Thanks, Melissa.” Stiles knows, from their extensive conversations comparing their lives, that Stu and AU-Scott aren’t all that different than Stiles and his Scott, and that Stu’s mother (and wasn’t that a hard thing to accept, that his mother was still alive out there in some other reality?) and AU-Melissa were practically BFFs.
Stiles’ Melissa offers them both a warm smile. “Goodnight, boys.”
Stiles sketches a wave at her with a soapy hand and goes back to the last of the pans. When he passes off the last one to Stu to be dried, he drains the wash water and rinses out the sponge to wipe down the counters and stove. Once they’re done, Stiles heads for the living room where he can hear the TV still on at a low volume. His dad’s dozing on the couch. Stiles puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes him gently. “Hey.”
His dad blinks awake. “Going to bed?”
“Soon. I’m gonna move the jeep into the garage, then I can unpack everything tomorrow.”
His dad nods, sitting up straighter and glancing towards the doorway where Stu lingers hesitantly. “You need anything, Stu?”
Stu shakes his head. “No, Da- sir.” He makes a face. “This is so weird.”
Stiles’ dad grins tiredly. “You’re telling me. Every time I think I’ve gotten used to things around here, I get thrown another curve ball.”
“Baseball metaphors, Dad? Really?” Stiles asks. He glances back at Stu. “I’ll be right back. You guys… talk. Or whatever.”
Stu gives him a nod as he passes. Stiles takes his time moving the jeep into the garage. He dawdles, going through some of the things packed tightly into the back, grabs his laptop, a basket of laundry, and a duffle full of clean clothes.
When he gets back inside, his dad is just releasing Stu from a hug and Stu’s eyes look suspiciously glassy. (The subject of his dad was one of the only things Stu kept quiet about. Stiles thinks something happened to him, but he doesn’t know for sure.) Stiles gives his dad an extra-long, tight hug. “Night, Dad.”
“Goodnight,” his dad says. “I’ll see you boys in the morning.”
Stiles watches him head for the stairs, then turns to Stu. “You can have the bathroom first. I’ll get the guest room set up for you.”
“Thanks, Stiles,” Stu says to the carpet. He still looks kind of emotional and Stiles doesn’t think he can handle it if Stu starts crying.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says dismissively, leading him up the stairs. “Come on. It’s been a long day and I’m beat.”
“Do you really think you can send me home?” Stu asks a minute later from the doorway to the bathroom.
“Yeah, I do. I’ve still got some books here I can look through, some stuff on my laptop, plus Deaton’s gonna help. If it comes down to it, we can go back to Berkeley and find that coven. They shouldn’t be too hard to track down.”
Stu nods again then disappears into the bathroom.
Stiles goes about changing the bedding in the guest room and setting out a couple changes of clothes. He hangs out in the doorway to his own room until Stu emerges from the bathroom. “Any specific time you want to be up tomorrow?” he asks.
Stu just shrugs and shakes his head.
“Okay. Goodnight, then.”
“‘Night,” Stu says, heading into the guest room and closing the door.
Stiles quickly washes his face and brushes his teeth, returning to his room to undress and climb into bed with his laptop. He’s barely gotten comfortable when there’s a tap at his window. With a sigh, he gets back up and pulls back the curtain to see Derek lurking on the roof. Stiles opens the window to let him in. “Not the werewolf I was expecting,” he says.
“I think Scott’s still trying to wrap his mind around the whole thing,” Derek replies.
“You’re probably right. What did you need?”
“Figured you’d be getting right into research mode. Thought I’d offer to help.”
Stiles eyes him skeptically. “Uh huh.”
Derek just looks at him expectantly, eyebrows arched high.
“I think I’ve still got a couple books on magic,” he says, heading for his closet. When he turns around, Derek’s shoes are kicked off at the foot of his bed and Derek’s reclining against his headboard, looking perfectly at home. Stiles doesn’t say anything, entirely aware that his heartbeat and scent are probably saying enough. Instead, he flops down next to Derek and drops the books is his lap unceremoniously.
Derek smirks and bumps their shoulders together. “It’s nice to see that nothing’s changed.”
Stiles snorts. “Says the werewolf who still hasn’t learned how to use the front door after hours.”
“I didn’t want to disturb your father.”
“Uh huh. And you couldn’t call? Text? Wait until tomorrow?” He fixes Derek with a look and is caught off-guard when Derek catches and holds his gaze for a long stretch of moments. “Old habits die hard, right?” he asks, finally glancing away.
“Something,” Derek says. He’s quiet for a minute, picking up the top book from the pile and opening it. “It’s good to have you home.”
Stiles looks at him out of the corner of his eye, sees that Derek’s attention is focused on the book in his hands. He sways sideways, knocks his shoulder into Derek’s. “It’s good to be home.”
