[identity profile] alakewood.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] tamingthemuse
Title: dinner and a movie [ficlet]
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 460 - Jurassic
Warnings: AU-ish. Outdated pop culture references. Derek/Stiles pre-slash.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~790
Summary: Stiles arrives for pack movie night at Derek’s to find that everyone’s ditched, leaving him and Derek to hang out alone.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.

-- = --


Stiles bursts through the front door of Derek’s house just after seven, shaking off the rain that’s been steadily falling since midmorning. “Dude,” he says to the empty living room as he scrubs both hands through his damp hair, “where the hell is everyone?”

Derek leans out of the kitchen doorway and raises both eyebrows at Stiles. “I’m pretty sure they’re skipping.”

“But it’s pack movie night!” Stiles waves the handful of DVD’s he’d stashed under his hoodie for the sprint from his Jeep to the porch. “It was my turn to pick.”

Derek rolls his eyes - which, rude - and disappears back into the kitchen. “Which is probably why they’re skipping. We’ve all sat through each of the Marvel movies that we can probably quote them verbatim by now.”

Stiles lets his head drop back between his shoulders and groans. “I didn’t bring Captain America this time. I brought classics.”

In the kitchen, Derek snorts. “Beavis and Butthead Do America is not a classic, regardless of your and Scott’s arguments.”

“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s bare-assed uncle!” Stiles quotes, laughing. “No? What about… I am the great Cornholio. I need T.P. for my bunghole.”

Stiles.

“You must bow down to the almighty bunghole!” Stiles shouts.

“What are you? Seven?”

“Dude.” Stiles kicks off his shoes on the mat by the door and shrugs out of his damp hoodie before joining Derek in the kitchen. “I brought Jurassic Park. All three of ‘em.”

Derek glances at the cases Stiles is brandishing. “I wouldn’t call them classics. Maybe the original, but the sequels are kind of subpar.”

“Wait until Jurassic World comes out.”

“They’ve only had, what? Almost fifteen years to improve their animatronics and CGI. Might be worth seeing just for that.”

“When’s the last time you saw the original? The animatronics and special effects still stand up to modern film making. Especially when you compare it to the super shitty CGI wolves in the Twilight movies.” When Derek smirks and looks like he’s about to say something sarcastic, Stiles talks over him. “Or the farce that was Indiana Jones: Crystal Skull and every single SyFy movie, ever.”

“Not a Sharknado fan?”

Stiles laughs aloud and Derek grins. Sometimes Stiles is surprised by how much Derek’s changed since they first met four years ago. “Bad special graphics is one thing, but don’t even get me started on the impossible sciencey stuff.”

“Sciencey stuff,” Derek repeats. “That’s a technical term, right?”

Biting his lip to keep his smile from growing too big, Stiles shuffles over to lean against the counter next to where Derek’s sprinkling shredded cheese over a homemade pizza. “Yes,” he says, “definitely a technical term.”

When Derek glances up at him, he looks happy, corners of his eyes crinkled with mirth, and his expression is both amused and fond. “Why don’t you go the TV set up while I get this in the oven.”

Nodding, Stiles pushes off the counter. “Yeah. Sure.”

It’s kind of strange to have a pack movie night without the rest of the pack, but it could be nice to hang out with just Derek. They’re not quite BFFs, but they’re definitely friends and they’ve only gotten closer since Stiles graduated high school and started taking classes at BHCC while training with Deaton to become an emissary. He grabs the remotes from the coffee table and turns on the TV and bluray player, setting his stack of movies down on top of the entertainment stand while ejecting the disc tray. He pops the first DVD in and crosses over to the couch, flopping down on one side and kicking his feet up onto the table.

Derek settles beside him a couple minutes of later, holding out an opened bottle of beer. He pulls it out of Stiles’ reach when he tries to grab it. “You’re only getting one.”

“Because I’ve never had a beer before,” Stiles grumbles, snatching the bottle out of Derek’s hand before he can psych him out again. “I’ll have you know I’ve got a pretty stellar tolerance.”

“Which we won’t be testing. The last thing we need is your dad thinking that I’m contributing to the delinquency of a minor.”

Stiles raises both his eyebrows and wiggles the bottle in his hand at Derek, proof that he is in fact doing just that. “Technically not a minor. I’m underage.”

“I don’t think there’s a difference,” Derek says, squinting at him. “Either way, you’re not old enough to drink and I’m serving you alcohol.”

“Fine, Debbie Downer, I’ll just have the one.”

Derek rolls his eyes again. “Just start the movie.”

Stiles grins smugly and hits play.
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