undergrounds | I'm a Classic Man

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I'm a Classic Man

[A] Hillingdon Deals

It's around seven p.m. when he more or less sets up shop, having advertised his wares -- discreetly obtained and discounted hardware supplies, chemicals, and weaponry -- largely through word-of-mouth in the weeks prior. Having regular customers at his store and a newfound willingness to barter have certainly helped, and Sasuke's printed out a few concise lists of what he has in stock for people to peruse.

Maybe he should add a sign saying he does delivery.

[B] Grocery Shopping

Sasuke is a list-maker, and a thorough one. Maybe it's a short list today, sure, but that makes it no less important. And the very item that you just reached for? It's the same one he has his hand on, leading to an awkward staredown that he refuses to look away from.

This is the last one. He's not giving up.

[C] Late Night

He's not an excessive drinker by any means but he's lived in London for the entirety of his conscious memory and knows that a solid cure for a stressful day is a pint and a secluded table at a pub. This would probably be working better for him if he weren't too busy giving suspicious looks to note exactly where his beer is at all times... and would probably keep him from knocking it all over onto the ground.

Sorry if some splashes your leg. It's been a long day.

[D] Choose your own adventure!

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It's a rare day off for him and a chance to actually indulge in one of his hobbies that doesn't involve the supernatural world or explorations of it. A stress-free experience, just a day at the zoo without work or clouded thoughts or that voice are you serious.

Sasuke freezes up completely, ticket stub slowly being crushed in his hand as he turns his head back to confirm what he already knows.

"You. —." His Polish pronunciation is improving. He could not be less proud of that fact.

Stiles is less than impressed. In fact, he’s downright sullen that Sasuke can so effortlessly pronounce the name. It took him years to learn how to wrap his tongue around the consonants. His grandparents would probably adore the guy, he realizes grumpily.

“Stiles,” he says with pointed emphasis, waggling his own ticket in Sasuke’s face. “Don’t go throwing that name around where anyone can hear.”

It’s embarrassing, dude!

“I didn’t really peg you for attractions like this.”

There are so many ways that phrasing can be twisted, but he’s actually oblivious for once.

"A 'stile' is a passageway; it isn't a person." Disregarding Juila Stiles. And even then it's not a first name.

"But fine, take on whatever inanimate object you want because you're ashamed of your overly cumbersome name. It isn't my issue." How dare you disrespect grand traditions.

"And don't act like you have any idea how to peg me at all when you know so little about me." Well he's oblivious too so we're good. "Why are you here?"

God, he doesn’t understand how one person can be so impossible. There’s a part of him that fantasizes about building a time machine simply so he can travel back four weeks when Past Stiles first entered the hardware store. Sasuke doesn’t need pity; he needs a slap upside the head. And maybe an authoritative figure in his life, since it’s clear there is none. With a hugely exaggerated roll of his eyeballs, Stiles decides to ignore everything the other boy said up until the inquiry.

“I’m here for an arts and crafts session with the hyenas. I figured we’d start off with something easy, like macaroni art. Then maybe some watercolors next week. What the hell do you think I’m doing at a zoo?”

Seriously, Sasuke. Do you have any other scathingly idiotic questions to ask while Stiles’ sarcasm is still fresh.

"Given the trend of our meetings that far too often place you in a situation where you're endangering yourself or others, you don't want me to actually answer that question." What's Stiles up to? No good, he responds like the sixty-year-old sheriff in a movie from the sixties.

"... just don't cause trouble. This is important for me." As he starts very carefully and possibly neurotically smoothing out his ticket again.

“What?” Balking, he turns his head to the side while staring at Sasuke, as if he hadn’t heard properly. “What does that even mean? It’s a zoo!”

And he gestures wildly to the closest exhibit, where the monkeys are giving him an unimpressed look.

“How could this be important to you? Are you on a date or something? Meeting your long-lost twin sister? About to propose to a rhino? Seriously, dude, I’m stumped.”

His hand fists in Stiles's shirt entirely without warning in order to shove him back against one of the enclosures, not hard enough to bruise but enough to make his point that much more poignant.

"Do you ever shut up? I'm here because it calms me down and because it gets my mind off other things. Is that a good enough reason?" Perhaps that little action shows how much he could stand to not think about too, dark eyes shifting their focus to his own hand before he forcibly relaxes his grip and steps back again.

"... I thought you were sociable enough to not need to come to a place this on your own."

Even as brute force sends him backward, Stiles is shrinking away from the threat of violence. Both hands held up in a placating gesture, he does his damnedest to flatten himself against the enclosure wall. His head is tilted to the side, face turned away. The reaction is less instinctive as it is automatic; this is clearly not the first time Stiles has been pushed around, which is probably unsurprising given how often he runs his mouth. He’s expecting a blow that never comes. When Sasuke explains, Stiles slowly straightens to regard the other boy in a wary kind of curiosity.

“Just because I’m sociable doesn’t mean I need a constant entourage,” he replies, as if Sasuke hadn’t just shoved him into a wall. “Plus, it’s not as easy to get into trouble if I have chaperones.”

The addendum is said in an attempt for humor. Stiles tugs at his shirt to smooth out the creases. His movements are jerky, distracted. He wants, more than anything, to needle Sasuke about what he's trying to take his mind off of. For now, he doesn't.

The reaction is something he notes even in the midst of his attempt to calm himself down, even averting his eyes after a second too long. Like if he can ignore his own minor upset, it didn't actually happen.

"I'm not a good chaperone anyway. I usually just bring about my own form of trouble whether I mean to or not." He's a magnet for it, not too different from Stiles himself. Their days of hanging out together are numbered. "... I'm not actually going to hit you unless you keep pushing it so don't make that face at me. I don't like seeing it."

Ignoring problems until they disappear happens to be Stiles’ specialty when he’s uncomfortable, so Sasuke is in luck. Expression stuck somewhere between too casual and wary anticipation, he folds his arms over his chest and huffs out a breath.

“Don’t like seeing what?” he teases, and though his tone is light he maintains a safe distance from the other boy now. “Me upset or my face? If you say my face, I swear to god dude.”

The comment about trouble raises its own questions, though Stiles finds he isn’t particularly surprised—Sasuke’s demeanor could provoke even a pacifist into a blind rage, he thinks.

"Look, it isn't important." Largely because he doesn't want to have to confirm that it's the former. The distance is also something that he notes through his semi-permanent weariness, turning away to instead approach a nearby stand in order to grab a free zoo map.

"Are you going to just stand there until I'm out of sight because you're scared that I'm going to hit you? You know that you're bigger than I am." Right.

The refusal to humor his question is an answer in itself. Grinning with sly and smug satisfaction, he watches the other boy closely as Sasuke picks out a map. This feels like some kind of achievement, like he managed to coax an actual confession from the surly, obstinate teen. He can almost, almost understand Scott’s need to pursue the most unlikely friendships—simply because of his current sense of accomplishment.

“Aw, you do have a heart!”

After a moment, he joins Sasuke by the stand; he doesn’t bother to take a map, since he printed out an online version earlier.

“Dude, we both know you could take me out with both hands tied behind your back, so don’t even.”

That map almost immediately gains a new furrow in its otherwise crisp lines when his grip tightens, sighing out his agitation in another fracture of his demeanor.

"I'm a human being, aren't I? I never said I was heartless; you just assumed that on your own." Talking about their respective skills in a fight seems unwise so he allows that to go unresponded, not sure just how competitive Stiles might really be. "The rodent exhibit is down the path to the left."

You're welcome.

Exhaling sharply in exasperation, he moves to clasp Sasuke’s shoulder and then quickly thinks better of it. Definitely not comfortable territory for him yet. Or ever.

“I didn’t assume anything. It’s called teasing,” he pointedly reminds the other boy, “remember?”

God, this is already shaping up to be a huge headache. Stiles glances in the direction of where he knows the zoo’s main facility is located. When Sasuke informs him about the rodent exhibit, however, he looks back with an incredulous air of suspicion. Is that meant as a dig at him, or an invitation?

“…Okay?”

Yeah, he’s not sure.

"Right, right..." As agitated as he sounds it's a good reminder, one that has him taking a slow deep breath and then an equally long exhale.

Which is not the best calming technique in a place known for smelling like rhino shit and cheap bug repellant but he has a strong stomach. "... I was telling a joke. I was implying that you're a rodent and that you should return to your home with all the others. Do you get it now." This is as far as his humor extends.

Stiles doesn’t even know why he bothered to give Sasuke the benefit of the doubt. Of the two options—one being benign and one being incriminatory—the reality should have been obvious.

“Oh yeah. Totally get it now.”

And he rips the map right out of the other teen’s hands. Heading in the direction of the rodent exhibit (because that’ll show him), Stiles suddenly pivots on a heel and continues while walking backwards.

“I get exactly why you’ve been poisoned so many times. Maybe I’ll get to be lucky number seven.”

Seriously. He hates this kid.

He can chalk up that attempt as a failure to launch, then, his version of banter more like throwing a stick in someone's direction than giving them a friendly nudge and he's not too skilled at toning it down.

"I told you that it was understandable but you didn't believe me. As if I'm actually going to eat anything that your hands touch first now." Against his better judgement Sasuke trails after him, perhaps under the assumption that he'll be able to get his map back.

"Would you actually try to kill me?"

“Implying that I would ever share any of my food with you,” he scoffs in disgust, snapping a wrist to unfold the map (which he has already mangled in the brief timespan he’s stolen it). “And why don’t you ask me that again when we’re closer to the lion exhibit? I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Except he knows better now than to leave it like that, because Sasuke can be painfully thick.

“No, I wouldn’t try to kill you! Holy crap, dude. The most you have to worry from me is maybe a ‘I’M A DOUCHEBAG’ sign taped to your back, or all the contacts on your phone being renamed to Sesame Street characters. On that note, can I borrow your cell?”

"No," comes his immediate answer, followed by him twisting his neck to try to glance at his back just in case. Which amazingly is him joking around again, setting an all-time record of two intentionally humorous acts in the span of five minutes.

"Now come on, give me back my map or it's you that'll be wearing the sign. Unless you'd prefer to bring the lion-related threat to life... or death, as the case may be."

Stiles catches the movement out of the corner of his eye. Glancing over at Sasuke, he notices what the other boy is doing. A pleased, wolfish grin tugs at his mouth, which he promptly hides behind the map. It wouldn’t do to let the guy see that Stiles is amused, after all. Sasuke might get ideas. Then again, it’s Sasuke; any ideas the Japanese teen gets, they’re probably going to be miles off base.

“No way. Go get another one. I’m commandeering yours as payment for the rodent comment.”

"As if it actually bothered you so much as to warrant or justify thievery." Stiles's reaction is blessedly not commented on whether he noticed it or not, though his pause should probably be indicative of him working out a way to push this further.

"... rodent. You're a fucking rodent. — 'Stiles' Stilinski is a fucking rodent twat." As calm as the grave.

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I'm a Classic Man

Stiles's name is just a dash forever

he would likely prefer that tbqh

Dash Stilinski I told you to set the table

INFINITELY BETTER THAN SARADA OR BORUTO

Sarada Dash Stilinski I told you to set the table

oh my fucking god

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