Tan France saying a hero is “American happy” because she’s giddy and smiling but hasn’t had enough time to process everything and the smiling is coming from a place of like… nervous happiness and not security in herself is the realest thing to have ever been said on television
The drive back to Derek’s loft is silent. Stiles has his eyes closed, forehead pressed to the cool glass of the car window, trying not to think about the deep ache that’s pulsing down his side. He’s got his hand clamped over his elbow and his fingers feel sticky, wet, but he doesn’t want to look. Doesn’t have the energy.
Derek doesn’t speak. He’s angry. Stiles can feel his anger; he’s almost vibrating with it, jaw clenched so hard his teeth could crack. Stiles wants to reach over, curl his fingers over Derek’s, but he doesn’t think that would be well-received at the moment so he keeps still. It’s usually a battle with himself, his body fighting to keep up with the racing thoughts of his mind, but it’s easy now. He’s so tired.
“Stiles,” Derek says sharply, and Stiles jolts upright, sending pain scattering down his side. They’re in the parking lot of Derek’s building. Stiles didn’t even notice the car stop moving. Derek heaves an irritated sigh and gets out of the car, coming around to Stiles’ side to jerk the door open while Stiles is still taking off his seatbelt.
“I can do it myself,” Stiles says quietly. Usually he’d be snapping, angrily flapping Derek away with his hands, but tonight it’s more rote than anything. Derek doesn’t say anything, but his hand’s there to catch Stiles when his legs wobble as he climbs from the car and Stiles is too tired to even pretend to be annoyed. He leans into Derek instead, his warm bulk comfortingly solid, and closes his eyes as they ride the elevator to the top floor. The gentle swaying of the car is soothing; he wants to ask Derek if they can ride it all night, up and down and up, but the doors open with a soft noise and Derek pushes him forward before he can even wrap his brain around the words.
Derek is resigned to sitting through a full-day work conference, but is blown away when he meets Stiles, who is excited and enthusiastic, and also possibly a danger to himself and everyone around him.
Tagging folks who expressed interest in the original fic idea for this (Stiles destroys Derek’s phone by accident and Derek (while still being mad) uses it as an opportunity to ask Stiles out)
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