Tyler Hoechlin at the MCM Comic Con London | May 25th
All I see is a Derek knits sweaters AU and they’re super complicated cabled masterworks because Derek spends a lot of time alone squinting at youtube knitting videos doing it wrong pulling it all apart starting again finally he finishes one though The first time he wears it Scott says Hey nice sweater it’s so ugly and weird can I borrow it to wear to a weird ugly sweater party (via helenish)
He was just meant to pick up a couple of those decorative boxes, you know the cheapo ones he sees all the time at Target and he was right by Michaels anyway so he just goes in. It’s not like he doesn’t have the time, and now that things have finally settled down and he’s stopped replacing furniture every week he’s thinking about picking up some…accessories or something.
He doesn’t really mean to stalk through the shelves of yarn, but he’s there and there’s a sale and he misses working with his hands, craft projects spread over the dining room table with his dad and Laura and his mom complaining about getting paint on the hardwood.
So, he buys some. A lot, actually. Stocks up on the needles and gets a basket to put them all in, buys a few How To books that are dog eared at the corners. He sets his tablet up on the rickety coffee table he hasn’t gotten around to replacing yet, makes a youtube playlist of videos because he can’t quite figure out the instructions in the books he’s bought.
He starts off pretty bad, he gets worse as the days progress. Half-finished scarves and the wonkiest misshapen hat he’s ever seen stuffed in the bottom of the basket and shoved beneath his bed, out of sight and mind. He goes back to it though, paces in front of where he knows the supplies are stashed like a particularly stubborn monster who won’t go down.
He gets better at it though, manages an entire sweater by the time fall starts turning to the beginnings of winter and the air starts getting chill. He leaves it out accidentally, the homemade thing draped over the corner of the love seat. Scott is the first one to notice it before he has a chance to shove it away and he grabs at it with a smirk on his face.
“Where the hell did you get this?” He asks as he turns it over in his hands.
“Nowhere,” Derek gripes.
“I’d get my money back.”
“Shut up,” Derek snaps, shoving it beneath his pillow.
He doesn’t knit for awhile after that, he’d like to pretend he’s too busy but it’s mostly just an excuse, he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. It is a pretty hideous looking sweater, the sleeves are uneven and he ran out of yarn halfway through, it’s three different colors.
About midway through November, though, Stiles is over the loft, seeking refuge from an unexpected blizzard and he’s shivering, hands chilled and nose red, mouth gone blue from the cold. He sees the hideous sweater, Derek doesn’t bother trying to stop him before he grabs at it. He’s bracing himself for the inevitable, but Stiles just slings it around himself, shoves his arms into the too long, oversized sleeves and pulling it around himself, snuggling into it and shaking.
“Wow, this is so comfortable, dude,” he says, looking down at it.
Derek doesn’t hear the blip in his heart that says it’s a lie but he makes the assumption of sarcasm anyway. But then Stiles is kicking his wet sneakers off and curling up on the couch and he stays like that for the rest of the afternoon, watching the snow fall in flurries outside the wall of windows on the other side of the loft.
They drink hot cocoa and play card games all afternoon, and Derek tries to teach him how to knit.
“Nope, not happening,” Stiles decides, giving up, tossing the yarn and the plastic sticks back at Derek. “Fuck it. Knit me socks for Christmas,” Stiles tells him and Derek just sort of looks at him.
“I’m serious, red ones,” Stiles says, decisively.
And when he leaves later, Stiles tries to hand the sweater back to Derek, but he waves him off and says, “keep it,” and Stiles grins at him, like it matters, like Derek’s stretched out, multicolored homemade sweater is actually a gift.
(Source: akissforabite)
