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[ Scott debates tossing a pillow at him, but ultimately rules against it, instead getting lost in the fact that yes, this is all very familiar. When Stiles and Lydia kissed it was very much the same, except for where everything little thing was different and nothing was even remotely similar. Scott tries to think about what the different reactions from Stiles means - that he's almost... hateful after kissing Derek, where he was elated after kissing Lydia.

He shrugs. Stiles Stilinski is a complicated guy, but Scott gets him better than most. It's never be hard to see what he's thinking, know what he's feeling. ]

Don't hold out on me! C'mon, what was it like?

I'm so dead serious right now, dude. [ Fidgeting with his hands, he finally turns his gaze up to meet Scott's, leveling him with a brown eyed stare. Everything's a little more muted than usual, because inwardly, Stiles is kind of having a huge freakout. He's trying his best to hide it. ]

Like, we were just--[ A wide hand gesture. ] Talking, I guess, and fighting over the stuffing, and he got all up in my face so I--[ Vaguely, he feels his ears starting to burn from the way they're turning red and looks down again. ] Yeah. It was stupid, and by the time I realized what I did, I peaced out.

[ Because honestly, he wasn't sure if he could take the rejection; because he probably just totally screwed up what had become a really good friendship. ]

Since when have you been embarrassed to talk to me?

[ Because that in itself is worrisome enough, and forces Scott to sit up, feet hitting the ground with a soft thump. His eyebrows are knitted while he listens to Stiles - not words, but his heartbeat, the heat radiating off his ears, perspiration off the back of his neck. He expected Stiles to be freaking out some, but this much takes him by surprise - it was only a kiss, wasn't it? Scott can't figure out why it's such a big deal to him, why he's trying so hard to hide away.

Then again, it's Stiles. Then again, the only person more complicated than him is Derek. Scott tries to imagine what he must feel like, but there's only sympathy at most. He can't relate, can't understand why things don't just work out sometimes. ]

You know you can tell me anything, right? And I'll never judge you, like ever ever. [ He scratches his eyebrow. ] I know you're freaking out- and it's cool man, freak out. That would be a lot less scary than this.

Wh--I'm not embarrassed. [ He blinks, a little startled. ] Well, I am, kind of, but like, not talking to you--

[ What basically comes out is the Stiles equivalent of keysmash, and he groans and ruffles his hands through his hair, trying to look plaintive. ] I freakin kissed Derek, dude, because I didn't want to lose some weird game of chicken. That is embarrassing.

[ And maybe the fact that every time he thinks about it something in his stomach goes to "mush", as Scott described it earlier. This is so bad. How is he supposed to put his thoughts into words. ] It's--nothing ever goes the way I plan it, like, ever. This included. I dunno, dude, it's like...we were friends, you know?

[ A little strained. ] Like, kinda good friends. I think he trusted me, and that's--[ Hand gestures, that makes things more understandable! ]--that's a huge freakin' deal. And I screwed it up, I mean like--you should've seen the look on his face.

[ He listens while Stiles talks and even if it's difficult, he lets him get through it. There's the need to interrupt him and tell him no Stiles, you're the best guy in the entire world, but he keeps his mouth shut, slipping off the couch and on to the floor once Stiles finishes speaking. ]

You get that like - I don't know, a year ago, we would have laughed at the idea of Derek having a friend? I mean, no offense to him but he's sort of... [ Scott trails off, not finishing his sentence. He just offers a bit of a "grr" face, human fingers bent forward to look like claws. ]

I mean, the fact that he's your friend already says a lot. [ And Scott's strained too - he doesn't always know what to say or how to say it, and he wants to reassure Stiles in every way that he can, he's just no good at talking. His foot pushes out and kicks Stiles' knee, and Scott smiles while watching the contact, a little embarrassed about what he's going to say. ]

Derek looks at you, you know. Not to be, I don't know sappy, but I've seen that look before. I'm surprised you haven't caught it once or twice.

[ A little bit of a grin lights up his face at the thought--it takes him back. The first time they met Derek feels like ages ago, when Scott had just gotten bitten and they were getting his inhaler. They'd all changed a lot since then, gone through enough trauma to make any kid grow up a couple years, and Derek really hadn't been any exception. The Stiles of a year or so ago probably would have freaked out at the idea of being Derek's friend, and Scott's dead right. He imitates what Scott did mid-sentence, shaking his head. ] ...is a perfect way to describe it, yeah. He slammed my head into a steering wheel, once. [ A beat. ] I made him strip for Danny, so I guess I kinda deserved it.

[ His gaze flickers down again as Scott kicks against his knee, and he takes in what he's saying. As much as he wants to believe it, the part of Stiles that's a cynic is focusing on the negative way more than anything else, and he manages a small, lopsided smile. ] You're always sappy, I'd be more weirded out if you weren't.

Like a piece of prey? [ He exhales noisily and ruffles his hair again. That's just lashing out--he doesn't really mean that, either. Derek hasn't looked at him like that in ages. ] I wish I had a rewind button. It's like--his one freakin' thing, man. Look how the shit with Ms. Blake went down. Y'know, he told me he couldn't even remember half of it. Like--that's fucked up. And I'm not saying I'm that bad or anything--I'm not like, about to go and make virgin sacrifices or anything, cause that would be hella redundant, but...

[ he ticks it off on his fingers. ] Paige, Kate, Ms. Blake. Dude struck out, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't need me as another curveball.

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