I seriously really see Sterek for the “hey asshole quit kicking the back of my seat it’s a 10 hour flight” au. Stiles being restless and all
On AO3
(Happy belated birthday my dear)
It’s not that Stiles fears flying.
Honestly, he doesn’t.
… So maybe there is a not so small part of his brain that worries about the logic behind several tons of metal careening through the clouds.
But he’s past afraid of flying, he is. After all, having the most important person in his life living on the other side of the country means that Stiles had to get used to flying.
Flying, take-off, landing, he can all manage.
But staying immobile for a whole flight? Virtually impossible.
Stiles is always very careful to pick the aisle seat precisely for that reason: that way, he can stand, walk, chat with the crew until he has to sit down and voilà! The flight has passed without him realizing it.
Except, not this time.
No, this time around, Stiles is stuck in his seat and can only glare at the blinking “fasten your seatbelt” sign over his head.
Turbulence can choke on a rotten dick.
The thing is, an immobilized Stiles is a fidgety Stiles.
And a fidgety Stiles can quickly become annoying, according to various sources.
His neighbor is thankfully and blissfully asleep.
But the person in front of him?
Not so much, if Stiles can trust the way the guy keeps sitting back in his chair with a growing strength.
“Hey, asshole,” the man starts before leaning around the seat and ola, Dark, Glaring and Handsome. “Quit kicking my chair, will you.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Stiles rambles, somehow managing not to choke on his tongue when the guy blinks at him and the glaring dials down. “Just a bit restless, but I will--I will stop.”
Stiles even puts his hands around his knees to keep his legs from moving.
The man settles in his position to look properly at Stiles. “Scared of planes?”
“ADHD.”
“Ah.”
“And reading is complicated when one can’t turn on the light.”
The man chuckles quietly. “Evidently.”
Stiles smiles crookedly at his almost new friend, thinking this is the end of their conversation.
“Want me to tell you a story?”
Stiles blinks and gawks at the guy. “Beg your pardon?”
The man smiles (well, smirks, but admitting that a very handsome man just smirked at him on a plane might damage Stiles’ brain so). “It’s kinda my job,” he replies. “I’m a librarian, and I’m in charge of storytime for the kids.”
Stiles’ heart makes a valiant effort to stay steady but it quickly melts at the very idea of this … hunk, sitting down with little kids and reading stories.
If he makes the voices, Stiles will propose.
“Well, if you’re a professional, by all means. But do you know all of them by heart?”
The man’s eyes take a strange color in the dimmed light around them. “Some of them. Ready?”
Stiles settles in his seat and nods.
The man clears his throat. “Rolf and Mrs. Boggins were best friends.
You really are a good little wolf, Mrs. Boggins told him. Rolf liked being a good little wolf …”
The man’s voice is perfect for storytelling, Stiles realizes, soft and musical and very soothing.
Would it be totally inappropriate for Stiles to imagine that voice saying far less child-appropriate words to entertain him? Probably.
It’s not going to stop him from doing so later, but he has a strong enough moral compass to admit that to himself.
“See?” the man says once the story has ended of Rolf the Good little wolf reconnecting with the Little Bad Wolf inside of him to do good. “Even grown adults can settle into a story.”
Stiles realizes that he did, in fact, stop fidgeting during the story. “Maybe it’s just you,” he blurts out, his brain freezing before suggesting different escape plans.
(Lock himself in the toilet until after the landing, or opening the side door right now. Both options sound better than staying here and facing his humiliation.)
But instead of laughing or being angry, the Storyteller …
Blushes.
From the tip of his ears to the opening of his collar.
And then.
Then.
As if that wasn’t enough for Stiles to be a puddle of goo.
Then, he smiles shyly and looks at Stiles from under his lashes, like a bastard. “Oh,” he whispers. “That--that’s very kind of you.”
Stiles, emboldened by this new side of the man in front of him (and gosh, he really needs to get a name, doesn’t he), leans forward, bringing their faces closer. “I could show my gratitude over a drink once we land, too. Just to … expand my kindness.”
“The world does need more kindness in it,” the man replies, a glint in his eyes now.
“Couldn’t agree more.”
“You could show your gratitude by helping me, too.”
“I would gladly give you a hand.”
The man stammers briefly before chuckling. “There is this club, you see, a very selective one, that I’ve always wanted to join …”
Stiles can only laugh too. “You could stay that it has … high standards?”
The two giggle, their heads close enough that Stiles can smell the man’s Cologne.
“I’m Derek, by the way.”
Ah, a name at last. “I’m Stiles.”
“Really?”
“No, but Stiles rolls better off the tongue, should you feel like saying it repeatedly.”
Derek’s eyes darken. “I’d rather have something else on my tongue.”
Stiles does choke on air, but he manages to recover speedily. “In all seriousness, as tempting as your proposition is, and believe me, it’s the most tempting temptation to ever tempt me …”
“Hmhm?”
“My dad being a sheriff has made me quite obedient of the laws that can put me in jail.”
“Ah.”
“But the offer for a drink and a kindness expansion stands.”
“Oh?”
“On solid ground, that is.”
Derek nods. “If you promise not to kick my seat until we land.”
“Oh, deal.”
It’s not the Mile High Club, but their quickie in Jungle should give both Derek and Stiles access to some kind of club, if they can say so themselves.
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(truth) What was your favorite band five years ago? (dare) Tag a blog that posts very different content from yours, but that you couldn't imagine not following.
5 years ago (2011) I loved harry potter bands, wizard rock, so my fave was probably harry and the potters or the remus lupins.
(truth) What does your bedroom look like? (dare) Take one selfie and post it. You only get one shot! (No old selfies or retrying, even if you think you look bad)
my bedroom at the moment is a bit messy. i have my fish lisa on my desk, things shoved in to my book case like socks and stuff, i have a yellow, white, and blue doona on my bed, i have a taylor swift poster framed on my chest of drawers, and a tonne of pillows and clothes on my other chest of drawers.
Sorry about that. I wish that they'd post more pics from set so that people wouldn't feel compelled to steal some from Taron and/or his friends/family. This is really getting annoying. Though of course I appreciated his arms like you did ;) Who wouldn't? Like Dayum! Look at those guns! =O
nah it’s fine no worries :)
yeah it’d be great to have more ‘official’ pics from the cast on-set so there’s full acknowledgement on both the fans and the person who shared it. there’s like this blurry line when it comes to reblogging set pics imo (like there are some set pics that’s fine to reblog depending on the source) but the endpoint is you get lowkey spoiled anyways lol
onto more important business: GODDAMN HIS BICEPS HOOOOOOOOOOOLY FUCK. we’re getting so much Exposure of the biceps than before im sweating so much just thinking about it oh my word
