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"The old flip-tops were great," Peter reminisces. "The screw-tops were the worst, though. The paint would dry and then they would be impossible to open." Stiles has just enough money left for paints and is debating between getting a couple of new paint pots or a new can of primer, standing in front of the paint racks and wondering when his life came to this.
"Derek's coming in for War Machine night," Peter says, and smiles, that asshole, because he knows how Stiles feels about Derek Hale and War Machine. His feelings are equally intense on either ground.
"Er, cool," Stiles says, and blushes furiously when Peter looks up at the entrance and assumes a mild expression. There's only one person that Peter doesn't look at like a piece of fresh meat, and that person just happens to be-
"Oh, hello, Derek. Wasn't expecting you in today." Derek makes a vague noise of recognition and wanders off to the New Releases section, probably eyeing up the Settlers of Catan board game. Either that or the Dominion: Dark Ages expansion pack. What can Stiles say? He's obviously got a thing for a man who has a thing for games. Peter smirks at Stiles and sweeps off to help a lost-looking newbie, helpfully pointing out the demo table for the war games with a flourish.
Stiles glances over to where Derek is gazing intently at Space Flux, and makes up his mind. Now or never, right? He leaves his loot on the painting table and walks over, picking up Monty Python Flux. Okay, Derek's still glaring at Space Flux. Stiles attempts to lean against the shelf artfully and knocks his elbow against Arkham Horror before finding a satisfactory position.
"I guess you're like the Spanish Inquisition." Derek looks at him blankly.
"You know, because nobody expects you... Ha, ha. Okay, look, this was a bad idea. I'm just going to walk away now." Stiles shoves the Monty Python deck back onto the shelf and turns away, but Derek catches his arm and looks at him strangely.
"Stiles. " Stiles blinks.
"You know who I am?" Derek puts the Space Flux game back in its original place and takes Smash Up.
"I've seen you on both 40K and War Machine nights." Derek says. "But you're more of a roleplayer."
"Yeah," Stiles replies. It shouldn't be like this, but when Derek says 'roleplayer' like that it makes his insides go hot and melty. "I, er, I do Death Watch. And I like Hordes better, at any rate."
"Really," Derek says, looking interested. "Let me guess. Circle of Orboros?"
"Nope, trollblood." And Stiles has to smile because Derek's eyebrows shoot straight up. "Hey, look. They're universally large except for pygmies, they've got good hand-to-hand and versatility. That's what I look for in a team, you know?"
"That's why you use Mercenaries for War Machine nights?" Derek asks, smirking, and Stiles can only hear his libido chanting 'he notices you he notices you he notices you and your army' somewhere in the back of his mind. God, just let him up already. It's hard enough talking to him as it is.
"Are you judging me, you, a person who uses Space Wolves in 40K?"
"They ride giant wolves," Derek protests, looking mildly offended. "They're basically Space Vikings. Everyone likes Vikings in space."
"Sure," Stiles agrees. "Just the way I like y- ah, ha, look at the time. I'd best be going." He gathers up his stuff and heads over to the counter. Peter smiles benignly at him as he rings up the stuff while keeping a careful eye on Erica at a corner of the shop terrorising a customer into purchasing Merchants of Venus.
"Maybe more subtlety next week," Peter suggests. "That'll be fifty dollars, please." Stiles pays and leaves with his purchases, stepping out into the cool autumn air. Yeah, next week, if Stiles ever comes back. The mortification would kill him. Probably. The door creaks behind him and he turns around to see Derek standing there.
"Stiles, I wanted to ask. If you would like to play War Machine together sometime."
"Ugh, punctuate," Peter says from somewhere behind Derek. "And the both of you, get away from here. No making out on my premises." Stiles is grinning so wide that his mouth hurts, and nods.
"Yeah, sure. Got a place you have in mind?"
FIN.