traumahouse | [log] stiles&bob

Bob doesn't fight the gentle tug, easily led wherever Stiles wants to go. God, he's like an abandoned shelter puppy, latching onto someone everywhere he goes, isn't he? Jesus Christ.

"Only half of a dead body?" he echoes, bewildered if the confusion in his voice and spilling across his face as he follows Stiles inside is anything to judge by.

"Magic in what way...?" he tilts his head curiously, glancing around the unfamiliar house as they walk through the front hall. "Besides apparently stalking you between universes," he laughs a little, "Stalker house, sounds like a season of American Horror Story."

Stiles gave Bob's hand a squeeze as they walked inside, eyes and smile both wide as he looked around his familiar home of the past decade plus. Sure, a chunk of that time had it merged into the Complex somehow, but whatever. It was still his home and his layout. He knew it well.

"Yeah. I mean, we found the other half later. Like, way later. It was a whole thing. That's the living room," Stiles said, blending the two statements together like they were just one topic, not phased in the slightest, as he pointed towards what was so very obviously the living room. "The house like... adds new rooms as needed. It's pretty awesome. And useful."

Stiles continued to point out different rooms he recognized as he made his way towards where his bedroom should be, then paused at the door. "Huh. That's new," he said, tapping a little brass colored plate on the door with STILES etched into it. A glance further down the hall showed that other doors had similar plaques as well, so he just shrugged and walked into his room. "Oh thank god everything is still here." At least from what he could see. Desk, TV, exceptionally comfy bed. The closet door was open a bit and he could see some of his clothes in there as well. "Look around if you want, I don't care. There shouldn't be anything secret in here."

Bob squeezes back in return and smiles a little; he finds that the other man's excitement is a little infectious. He has no attachment to this house– any house, if he's honest with himself– but the fact that Stiles is so happy about it is kind of cute.

"You're so casual about this...?" Maybe it's just the distance of time since? He frowns a little, "Wait, what- like Rose Red?" Wow, that's an old reference he just dug out of his brain.

He follows him through the house, taking it all in. Normally, he might feel a little awkward being in someone else's room, but... it's pretty normal for him with Stiles at this point? So, there's no sense of hesitation as he looks around.

"Eh, after spending almost half my life dealing with this kind of thing, you get kinda used to it. But I don't know. Maybe? I knew the people who did the enchantments for this house though. Remind me which one Rose Red is again?" He was rambling, Stiles was well aware he was rambling. But fuck it. He had his house back.

And with his house came his bed. He finally let go of Bob's hand, but it was only so he could take a couple of steps closer to his bed and flop down onto it face-first. He couldn't help the groan of comfort and bliss as he sank into the comfortable surface, then turned his head to the side before speaking. "Man, I've missed this bed. It's the most comfortable one ever." To Stiles it was, at least. Hopefully Bob would agree since they usually (always) shared a bed, even though they had never done anything more than cuddle and sleep in it.

Edited 2025-09-17 17:36 (UTC)

"I guess that makes sense," he admits, even though the whole thought is still pretty weird to him. The subjectiveness of weird crosses his mind again, and he decides to let it go at that, really. "Oh, uh- the Stephen King miniseries about the haunted house that changes all the time. Bunch of psychics and an academic stay the night in the house and freaky shit happens." Which is the least interesting explanation he could have given that series, but whatever.

His hand falls back down to his side when Stiles lets go to drop onto the bed. He laughs softly and shakes his head a little. "Best ever, huh?" he asks, tilting his head a little, taking a few steps toward him.

"Right, yeah, yeah. Less freaky stuff, more just convenient," Stiles shrugged one shoulder as he rolled onto his side. Bob would get it eventually. But, then again, Stiles was just assuming his friend would be living there. Cause why wouldn't he?

When Bob moved closer Stiles sat up just enough to grab his hand again, then tugged him onto the bed with him, grinning up at his buddy as he did so. "Come on, you're probably just going to end up sleeping in here anyway even though I bet you've got your own room down the hall somewhere. You should know what to look forward to. I've got like two mattress toppers on this thing." Besides, it would probably be even more comfortable if Bob was there curled up with him. Not that Stiles was saying those things out loud. But he was aware that he had gotten... attached.

"How nice of it not to be a cursed magic house," he chuckles softly.

Bob smiles a little when Stiles grabs his hand again, he's anticipating the next move when it happens, so he laughs when it does instead of yelping in surprise. "I think I'd be comfy pretty much anywhere, if you're there," he admits, turning on his side, propping himself up on one arm.

Stiles blinked for just a second at that comment, a little surprised at it, before his grin softened as he looked at his friend. "Yeah?" he started simply, lacing his fingers with Bob's and letting their hands rest on the few inches of mattress between them. "That's handy. Since, you know. That's how I am. With you, I mean. Not with myself. That'd be weird." Oh, look. More rambling, this time a little bit more awkward.

But Stiles wouldn't let it bother him, because it was true. Something about Bob made Stiles relax more, and the two of them seemed to almost always be in some sort of physical contact. None of which Stiles would be complaining about.

He smiles a little wider at the threading of their fingers. He's glad it's a comment that gets taken well, though... admittedly, he didn't particularly expect anything else? Which is... weird. Nice. Comforting. But definitely weird for him. He constantly assumes the worst, but he just hasn't felt the need for that around Stiles; it reminds him of how he feels around Yelena, in a way he can't quite pinpoint.

" I'm... so full of anxious energy, like, all the time ...it feels weird that someone else finds me calming?" he's laughing softly at the idea, though it's not in a mocking way at all.

Stiles also laughed softly at that, but not quite for the same reason. "It's probably because I'm made of pure ADHD, anxiety, and sarcasm," he shrugged the shoulder he wasn't laying on. "Maybe your shit balances out my shit or something."

It would make sense, in a way. Like how if you added two odd numbers together, they make an even one. Okay that made less sense, but the point stood.

Without even realizing he was doing it, Stiles's thumb started to rub lightly over the back of Bob's. "I don't know, that's the only kind of explanation I've got. I don't have any kind of degree or anything, let alone one in psychology."

"Mmmaybe... but you also haven't seen me manic yet, so..." Admittedly, he tends to stay generally lower and in the depression side of things, but when he swings up? Oh, boy!

He shrugs a little, "Makes as much sense as anything else, I think," he agrees. He feels his lips quirk in a small smile again, because Stiles may not notice it, but Bob feels the gentle slide of his thumb against his hand. It's nice. Sweet.

"So?" Stiles said with a bit of a facial shrug before going back to smiling at his friend. "We'll deal with that when it happens. I'm sure I can handle it." And if Stiles sounded confident when he said that, it was because he was confident. He dealt with Ian's crazy mood swings for, what, like three years? Maybe four? Something like that. And sure, Stiles himself had been in an especially bad place at the same time, but he still usually sobered up long enough to help Ian when he needed it, even though Ian didn't want the help. He could do the same thing for Bob. He would do the same thing for Bob.

"Besides, you haven't seen all my shit yet either. Not once have I gone three days without sleep because I'm in research mode." Stiles had actually been sleeping so much better for the last few weeks than he had in years.

He's told Bob about his ex, who was bipolar, and that does at least mean Stiles has experience with the whole thing, but he's willing to bet his ex didn't have a new and improved super soldier serum doing weird shit to him, either. It's still something he worries about, though he hasn't actually brought that up with any of them yet; which really just proves his own apprehension about his powers, because it's not like he thinks anyone he's met in Beacon Hills is going to think he's crazy if he tells them about it.

He chuckles softly, "Hmm... you really think you'd give up our afternoon naps like that?"

Stiles laughed softly at that, rolling his eyes. "I mean- I wouldn't do it on purpose. But I can get so hyperfocused sometimes that nothing else registers for a while." Luckily, it had been a couple years since he really had to go into research mode, that was why he had been getting pretty slack since well before he and Scott landed back at home.

Hopefully, that wouldn't be an issue any time soon, though. "You could probably get me to snap out of it if it happens. At least for a little while. Just grab me and drag me to bed or something, I don't know." Wait. That sounded- Fuck it, he'd already said it. He wasn't going to worry about it. At some point, Stiles had become aware of how his thumb was drifting over Bob's, but he didn't stop it. Instead, he just let his eyes close for a minute. He wasn't tired, just content lying on the most comfortable bed in the world with his friend beside him.

Edited 2025-09-18 04:50 (UTC)

"I get it, trust me," he shakes his head. "I wish I could say that staying up far too many consecutive hours is the worst my broken-ass brain has done to me, but..." he tilts his head a little and shrugs half-heartedly.

He nods a little, pretending to really debate the idea before deciding, "Mmm, yeah, I think I could do that." For some reason, suddenly, he's zapped with an intense urge to kiss Stiles, but he hesitates to act on it. Always second-guessing himself about what he reads in a situation because he's been wrong too many times.

He pushes it down for now, but the feeling settles somewhere high in his chest, an aching tension residing there now.

Fuck.

Stiles stayed like that for another minute or so before letting out a soft sigh and kicking off his shoes. "I want a pillow, and we're not even lying down the right way," he stated simply. Tugging gently at Bob's hand to encourage him to move as well, Stiles sat up and scooted on his bed so he could lie down with his head on an actual pillow, but also tried to keep hold of that hand at the same time. This time, he lay down on his back with his other arm out to the side, like he was offering Bob a place to lie down against him. Sure, Bob would probably have to kinda half crawl over him to get there, but when did Stiles ever do anything in a non-awkward way?

Normally, he didn't try to stay this attached to his friend; he would let go of him as needed no problem. Sure, they went right back to being glued together, but it was still better than this. But something about that day made Stiles want to keep hold of him.

"Besides, we haven't had our afternoon nap yet. And we don't know when the house will be this quiet again." Which was true. Once Stiles told Scott that their house was here, Scott would likely be moving in, too. Probably bringing Bucky, not to mention whoever else showed up as time went by. But just then it was only Stiles and Bob there.

Edited 2025-09-18 08:45 (UTC)

The gentle suggestion is all he needs to follow Stiles to the head of the bed once he slips his own shoes off as well. There’s no question that he’s going to curl up in that offered space next to him, though, it’s the only thing that even makes sense to him.

Luckily for Stiles, Bob appreciates the soft affections and small intimacies between them. Things he was never afforded much of in his life, but really likes being able to indulge in now. It is its own sort of addiction, soft touches from gentle hands instead of only pain.

“Gotta test this mattress so I can see what all the fuss is about,” he nods sagely, but there is still a smirk hiding in one corner of his booth if one knows where to look.

Stiles grinned at Bob as the other man settled into place, then rolled onto his side so they were facing each other like they often did. Finally, he let go of Bob's hand, but it was just so he could let his own rest on top of the other man's hip. "I think you'll like it," he said, chuckling softly. That smirk was easy for Stiles to spot, having spent so much time with Bob over the past month or so. Especially since some days Stiles couldn't help how often his eyes ended up flicking down to Bob's lips, idly wondering how his friend would react if Stiles ever leaned in and-

Nope, not thinking about that. Not then, at least. Stiles moved his brown eyes back up to Bob's blue ones. He liked the way they were and didn't want to mess that up. The comforting touches, holding each other, all of that was great. Almost perfect, even.

Here’s the thing: Bob can be incredibly blind and stupid, but something about that hand on his hip feels… different in a way he has no idea how to put into words. It’s not the same as when they hold hands or nap curled up together.

Instead of thinking about it, though, he’s just gonna move right along!

“Didn’t we cover this earlier— long as you’re there, I’ll be happy.” Fine. He meant to say fine, but… yeah, Stiles does make him happy.

"No, actually," Stiles was smirking at Bob a bit then. "You said you were comfy with me. Happy's way better, dude."

Stiles was teasing him, really. It wasn't actually a big deal or anything, but happy was better than just comfy, even if they were both positive feelings. And Stiles was okay with that, cause he'd been way more steadily happy himself since Bob had shown up in Beacon Hills. It was like he said earlier, something about the two of them seemed to balance each other out. At least some. Even though they were both balls of anxiety and a thousand other mental issues. "I'm glad you're happy with me, though."

And no, Stiles did not notice how that sounded.

“Nitpicking,” he says, playfully jabbing a finger into Stiles’ chest. “Plus, two things can be true at the same time.”

“Don’t have any reason to feel any other way about you,” Stiles has been nothing short of amazing ever since he showed up here. On the complete opposite coast that he should have been on.

"Nitpicking is but one of my many charming qualities," Stiles shot back with a smirk and a wink. "What, you haven't noticed the line of guys trying to get with me cause they're just really into it? And also into me. Clearly. I'm a catch."

It was a joke. There was literally no line and no one wanting to be in line, but it didn't bother Stiles any. He was past his fuckboy hookup era anyway and didn't want to just go find a random person. He had already come to terms with wanting his next relationship to be something healthy. Or at least healthyish. Anything would be better than his last one, but it would be great to find someone he could just... relax with.

Edited 2025-09-19 12:58 (UTC)

"What other charms do you plan on dazzling me with today?" he asks with a half-smirk as he glances back over at him. "Can't be any less of a catch than a bipolar drug addict who's last hit overdosed them with power they can't control." Wow, that was insanely specific, Bob.

Idly, he plays with a loose string at the end of his shirt, slowly winding the thread around one finger before he lets it go, picks it up and does the whole thing again.

"What, are my non-stop sarcasm, unbrushed hair, and clinginess not dazzling enough for you?" It had to be very obvious that Stiles was joking about that; he had way too many self-worth issues to be serious about things like that. He let his eyes close as he laid there with Bob, just kinda relaxing with him. "Eh, I don't know. Could be a former drug user with ADHD, anxiety, and PTSD severe enough that you have almost accidentally burned your house down with your random powers during nightmares multiple times." Not to mention the whole vampiric cause of his PTSD in the first place. Most of it, at least.

But of course, this was Stiles. And sometimes he just didn't know when to stop talking. Or he was unable to. One or the other. "Besides, you don't give yourself enough credit, you're a catch. You're nice to everyone and, hey, that one annoying waitress is always trying to flirt with you." Which Stiles hated.

“Maybe that’s what I’m into,” he says it so casually, it’s hard to tell if it’s meant to be a serious statement or a joke. Good luck, Stiles!

He scoffs a laugh and shakes his head, “What a messy pair we make.”

“I wish she’d knock it off, honestly? It’s obnoxious.” Not because she’s flirting in general, but… the way she doesn’t stop even when he clearly doesn’t reciprocate.

"I went to school with her. I can tell you that, at least back then, she was very used to getting whatever she wanted," Stiles explained simply. The woman had been kind of on the Lydia and Jackson level of the social hierarchy back then, maybe a step below them. She definitely got what or who she wanted.

But it wasn't until after he said that about the waitress that the first thing Bob said decided to sink into his thick skull. Stiles would have brushed it off if there wasn't something just slightly... Off? About Bob's tone. It was like it didn't quite sound like Bob's usual jokes, but it could have just been wishful thinking on Stiles's part. He was probably joking.

None the less, Stiles opened his eyes back up and quietly looked at Bob for a few seconds. He let the thumb of his hand resting on Bob's hip rub lightly at the bottom edge of his friend's shirt. "Is it what you're into?" Stiles was trying to not look too hopeful and/or interested when he asked that, but something told him he wasn't doing that great of a job.

"Seems like she never grew out of it," he scrunches his nose a little in something like distaste. He knew girls like her in school, and he didn't like them then, either.

"Honestly?" he laughs softly, mirthless, a little self-derision in there. "I don't know. I've mostly just had strings of nights of hook-ups, so... it didn't matter?" Dating wasn't something he ever really cared about, much more focused on drowning the memories that haunted him in substances.

He looks pointedly at Stiles, a playful smirk on his lips now, "But maybe... maybe that's exactly my type."

Oh. Okay, well. That was a bit more direct, wasn't it? Chewing his lip, Stiles searched Bob's face for any sign that he was lying, or about to pull the rug out from him or whatever, but that was more out of an old, old habit than actually thinking Bob was that kind of person. And obviously, he didn't find any of those signs there.

"You- But I'm-" Stiles took a deep breath, trying to get his brain to line up enough to actually get some kind of sentence that made sense out. What he finally managed to say was, "Can I kiss you? I mean, it's okay if not! If not we can just pretend I never asked that in the first place but, I, uh, I really want to kiss you." Oh, that was more than Stiles expected to say. But that was fine. At least he finally said something? He sure wished that little voice in the back of his mind telling him how bad he just fucked up would shut up though. He hated that little voice.

There's something a little amusing to the way Stiles is tripping over his words and he can't help the grin he's wearing because of it now.

Instead of wasting his time on words, Bob shifts and leans in to capture Stiles' mouth with his own. As kisses go, it's simple and sweet, and he finds his hand going up to rest against his cheek.

"How was that for an answer?" he asks with a soft chuckle when the kiss eventually breaks.

Stiles was a little surprised when Bob leaned in and kissed him, but it didn't take him long for his eyes to slide closed, the hand on Bob's hip to tighten just slightly, and Stiles to kiss back.

"Great answer," he replied with a grin as he opened his eyes to look at Bob again, this time from up nice and close. "Best answer, really. I've wanted to do that for like a month." But Stiles was well known in his circle of friends for not being able to tell when someone was interested in him. It had sort of become a running joke that other people always had to point it out to him. But, hey, for once he got there without any outside help. Unless Bob himself counted as outside help.

"I would even be okay with doing more of that."

He presses his forehead to Stiles' and grins back, a little surprised it's gone so well, but he's certainly not complaining. "A month?" he echoes, laughing a little. "That's, uh, quite the restraint, there..."

"Oh, yeah?" his eyebrows lift and fall. "You would, huh? Well... make it happen," he presses a quick peck to his lips, smirking and adding, "Cap'n," before he laughs at his own dumb joke. At least he knows Stiles will appreciate the stupid humor.

With their foreheads pressed together, Stiles had enough room to bend the arm under Bob's head at the elbow, curling it in so he could let his fingertips drag through Bob's messy hair. "Yeah, well, I didn't want to run off my new friend by trying anything that he wasn't into," he stated simply, shrugging a little. "In case you haven't noticed I kinda have a little bit of trouble with the whole... self-esteem thing."

But then Bob was making a dumb joke and, dumb or not, Stiles laughed because that's the kind of crap he said sometimes, too. "Any time you want, Casper." And with that he moved to press his lips against Bob's again.

He leans a little into the touch, "Gee, I don't know what that's like or anything," he scoffs softly with a playful roll of his eyes.

Earning that laugh made him feel good, even if it was over something dumb. He grins at the nickname and kisses him back easily.

Stiles's hand moved from Bob's hip around to rest on his lower back as he continued to kiss Bob for a long moment, then when he finally pulled back he opened his eyes to smile at him again.

"Any thoughts on letting me take you on a date sometime?" Not that it would be all that much different from how they usually went out in public together. They'd been touchy and hand-holdy with each other since the day after they met, after all. "Like, an actual one. Which I admit is very close to how we usually hang out anyway, but this time with the ability to kiss and-slash-or make out if we feel like it."

"My thoughts are... I don't even know the last time I went on a real date..." he grins, "so... yes, absolutely."

He shrugs a little, "I don't mind things not changing a lot... but I do like the sound of the added kissability."

"Okay. Good. And it's been literal years since the last time I went on a date, so I might be kinda rusty," not that he thought Bob would mind all that much.

Stiles leaned forward to press another soft kiss to Bob's lips again, followed by a little nip at his lower lip. "I like the added kissability, too. It's a very good new feature between us."

"I don't care, we can do whatever you want... the part that really matters is you...and me," he shrugs a little. "The rest?" he lifts one hand and flexes his fingers up as if in an explosion, "Confetti." He didn't expect a small poof of the stuff to actually fall when he did that, and the surprise of it makes him laugh. "...sorry. I think I did that?" he squints and laughs again.

Stiles blinked at the random confetti before breaking into a laugh as well. "Holy shit, you can do that? How come you never showed me before?" Confetti creation might not be the most useful power, but that didn't mean it wasn't hella cool.

"But anyway, yes. Good. Cool. I want to take you out for dinner tomorrow night, as long as you're into the idea?" Stiles was fairly certain that Bob didn't have anything planned for the next day, at least. And he didn't really want to do anything more than maybe run back to his dad's house and get their stuff later that night. Or he would try to just stay right there beside Bob, enjoying the fact that his friend was at least interested in him enough to be cool with kissing him, and going on a date.

"Uh- I don't really know the scope of it, actually?" he admits with a bit of a wince. "I don't think we've found anything I... can't... do yet?" she shrugs sheepishly. He's still pretty terrified of it all, honestly.

"Tomorrow's perfect," he grins and, because it's apparently a thing they can just do now, he leans over to kiss him softly.

Normally, Stiles was the sort that would be very interested in talking to Bob about his abilities, trying to help him figure them out, all of that. But kissing was being offered and that was distracting in the best way.

The arm around Bob's waist tightened a bit, pulling him a little closer as Stiles kissed him back for a moment. "I figure today we can work on this whole kissing thing some more. Maybe poke around the house later. There should be some magic whiskey that can get anyone drunk." But the kissing part was way more important than the whiskey part, so Stiles leaned in to press their lips together again, this time a bit harder than their last kisses, and with his lips parted slightly.

Bob is easily malleable like this, so when Stiles pulls him closer, there's no resistance; instead, he leans into it, refusing to go far when the kiss has to end for breaths or words.

"Mmm, yes," he nods his agreement, "I think that sounds like a very, very excellent plan," he grins, welcoming that kiss; there's definitely more heat to this one and Bob responds in kind, eager and giddy with this new development of theirs.

Encouraged by Bob's eagerness, Stiles let the kiss evolve into a full makeout session. Complete with one of his legs hooking around Bob's and pulling the other man flush against him. Stiles was just going to ignore the fact that Bob would be able to tell just how turned on he made him, and instead think about how awesome it felt to have Bob in his arms and pressed against him like that.

But eventually, Stiles broke the kiss. He hardly pulled back, though, and nipped at Bob's lower lip before pulling back just far enough to speak. Stiles was breathing hard as he asked, "Hey, we're like, not too old for me to call you my boyfriend if you're into that, are we?"

He chases that warm, giddy feeling that stirs in his chest, kissing him deeper. There’s no complaint from Bob when he pulls him closer, if anything it only encourages him to try to get impossibly closer. Fingers twist into the material of Stiles’ shirt as if to keep him in place.

He hums a soft noise as Stiles pulls away, stupid need to breathe ruining everything. “No, I don’t think so. I mean— I’m okay with it, if you are.”

Stiles let out a soft, happy laugh at Bob's answer as he let his nose rub gently against his friend's. Boyfriend's, really. "I'm definitely okay with it. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page."

At that point he pulled back far enough to actually be able to look at Bob, then reached up to brush the other man's hair back from his face a bit. "Good day for me, huh? Got my house back and a boyfriend almost all at once."

“Then… it’s settled.” And happily, too. He couldn’t believe how well things had been falling together for him since he arrived in this strange little town.

The smile that spreads across his face is a little lopsided. “I’m having a pretty great day, myself…” he says, trailing off a bit at the end so he can kiss Stiles again, something soft and sweet, but there’s still a hint of the fire underneath.

Stiles grinned into the kiss as he matched Bob. It had taken long enough, but he was finally having a run of good luck. Back in Beacon Hills after over a decade away, able to see his dad any time he wanted, got his house back, and now Bob was apparently crazy enough to want to be with him. Stiles thought Bob might want to raise his standards, but he definitely wouldn't be pointing that out.

Instead, he just wrapped his arm tightly around Bob's waist so he could hold him close as he continued to kiss him.

[log] stiles&bob

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