How anybody could get Derek to
1) come over/go out;
2) stay still long enough to watch a movie; and/or
3) coax him into telling him/her his favorite beverage
is a mystery to me, even now.
Keeping him tied down to one place for even longer than half an hour is a challenge; not because he physically can't stay still, but because his mind is constantly buzzing and humming at him. He's a lot like Stiles in that way. His mind never shuts off. Ever. There are constantly retired words and old phrases running through his head on a too-fast conveyor belt, which left him to wonder, at that moment, sitting on the sofa, how the hell he'd been talked into watching a not only a movie, but a kids movie, on a Friday night.
Derek reclined rather stiffly into the couch at his back, looking at the screen in front of him, listening to the introductory tune that played on repeat during the menu's display. "Don't forget my apple juice," he muttered to himself, leaning on the arm rest. Or my dignity. But he didn't add that part.