theshabbiestofmen | IC Contact;

[ stiles looks away, at that. ]

Yeah? I still don't— I'm not a werewolf.

You're pack.

[He leans forward, trying to meet Stiles' eyes.]

You are. I don't-- I feel a bond toward you I wouldn't otherwise. You're pack to me, and I'll swear that to anyone. Werewolf or not, you're one of us.

[ stiles's gaze wanders back to him, and he's caught on the sincerity there. swallows. ]

Yeah? I don't — get to feel like that.

Yes, well.

[He tries for a small smile.]

The transformations aren't so pleasant, so I suppose it's a win and a loss. And the fleas-- really, you're not missing out on much.

I truly mean it, though. I would . . . fight for you. If need be. Just as I would for Derek, or Erika, or even Scott, though he's not technically in our pack. You're . . . you've made a home for me here. There's very little I wouldn't do for you in return.

Wow, uh.

[ stiles knocks his drink back, too stunned to even wince at the burn. ]

Thanks.

[ his cheeks feel a little hot, but maybe that's the booze. ]

[He shrugs, suddenly embarrassed, and glances away.]

I-- sorry. I tend to get passionate when it concerns pack . . . things. But I did mean it. If that's not too strange to say.

No, that's. It's good. I'm feeling the love.

[ he grins down at the table for a moment, but then raises his gaze, more serious. ]

You know, I figured, even if this whole pack thing doesn't work out now that it's not. Preordained, or whatever. That we should hang out.

[ wow he's not great at compliments. ]

I'd like that.

[He smiles again.]

Though perhaps not at a bar. I have a limited tolerance.

For bars?

And alcohol in general. I'm hardly a drinker at the best of times.

Hey, me neither!

[ he finishes off his glass and pours another one, makes a cheers motion. ]

It's great, it means it's gonna be really easy to get drunk. Not like Scott, I'm pretty sure alcohol doesn't affect him.

Yes, I keep meaning to ask Derek or Scott about how they react to their metabolisms-- mine is rather quick, but nothing supernatural.

Theirs is insane. Insane. I mean, it's probably the healing. Alcohol's a poison, right? Scott doesn't have asthma anymore, he can run for hours, he can do all sorts of stuff. It's basically a superpower, let's be real here.

[He shakes his head.]

I'm jealous, I'll admit; my particular version doesn't come with nearly so many perks.

Does it come with, uh, any perks? I guess not accidentally getting furry when you're getting down with some g-someone, that'd be a perk.

. . . no-oo, that's . . . not something that happens to me. Is it something that happens to them?

Yyyup.

Well. Ah. That's . . . I suppose that's something to be pleased about. Although I'm not sure I want to picture Derek in that context.

Does anyone? But I mean, I think Derek has pretty good self-control. He doesn't wolf out much, not like the betas do. He'd probably keep his claws in.

[ um well apparently stiles has thought about this. ]

Good to know.

[AWKS.]

Er-- anything else to know?

About Derek?

[ .......stiles. ]

I meant more about werewolves, to be honest. I'd rather not hear more about Derek and his-- ah-- intimate habits.

Okay, okay, yeah, uh.

[ stiles scrubs a hand over his face, taps the edge of it against his lips. ]

I've got Peter's old laptop, that is like, a treasure trove of supernatural stuff. I could loan it out if you wanted to read for yourself, how stuff works for them. I mean, I know a lot, but it's not my deal, so.

You should-- oh, can we look at it now? Why haven't you told me about this before, this is amazing!

You'd rather look at supernatural research than get drunk?

[ stiles asks dubiously, and then remembers who he's talking to. ]

Of course you would. Sure, come on, let's go.

IC Contact;

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