[ stiles, naturally, wants to argue - the more detail logan goes into about his symptoms, the better chance stiles is gonna have of finding someone who might be able to fix him. he's annoyed, it's there on his face, but logan doesn't seem to give a shit, seeing as he just walks off and heads into the kitchen. stiles watches him go and thinks about pushing, like always, but - but at the same time, if logan had sat him down and grilled him about his nightmares, stiles probably wouldn't have been half as patient. reluctantly, stiles knows to take the loss as a loss. ]
... Okay.
[ he's got other questions in mind, a dozen different hypotheticals he can dress up as innocent curiosity instead of genuine worry and concern. instead, stiles just watches logan rake around in the kitchen, leaning back against his arm of the sofa and waiting for this asshole to quit fucking around and join him again. once logan sits, stiles takes a long, deep breath and goes for a gimme. he doesn't offer a cigar for this one, partially because he doesn't think that logan should be smoking them, but. hey, he started it. ]
no subject
... Okay.
[ he's got other questions in mind, a dozen different hypotheticals he can dress up as innocent curiosity instead of genuine worry and concern. instead, stiles just watches logan rake around in the kitchen, leaning back against his arm of the sofa and waiting for this asshole to quit fucking around and join him again. once logan sits, stiles takes a long, deep breath and goes for a gimme. he doesn't offer a cigar for this one, partially because he doesn't think that logan should be smoking them, but. hey, he started it. ]
Where'd you grow up?