Stiles had to know. Really it was driving him a little crazy and he was loony enough thank you. So he had to know why the hell Derek always had a blowtorch on hand.
He’d tried being subtle, tried snooping in the loft, he’d even gotten Danny to help him hack Derek’s laptop and computer history. None of that had worked so he did the only thing left.
"Why the hell do you have not one, not two, but a selection of blowtorches?!” He demanded, hands flying emphatically with his words as Derek raised the judgey eyebrows of doom.
"Is that why you dumped my pillows off my couch last week?" There was a very faint curl to the corners of Derek’s lips, almost imperceptible for those who didn’t know him.
It was an expression Stiles was very familiar with. The asshole was laughing at him.
"Just answer me you fuzzy bastard. It’s been driving me nuts since I saw that wall of blowtorches you have in your garage.”
The slight curl deepened and Stiles swore he heard a snicker that had him narrowing his eyes, “Dere-” he squeaked when Derek threw something at him. He caught it by reflex then blinked at the gold ring and it’s astoundingly intricate design around the band. It was one Derek wore a lot since things had stopped going to hell in Beacon Hills. “Uh…what?”
"It’s my work." Derek’s eyes held a gleam, like he was all too pleased with himself to be baffling Stiles.
"Your work. You mean you made this?” Stiles held the ring between his fingers and waved it around.
"It’s what I did in New York before."
"Okay…how is this linked to the torches?"
"It’s made with metal clay. It’s a crafting medium of metal particles in organic binder. You burn the binder away and it leaves just the sintered metal behind."
It took a few seconds for Stiles to grasp the entirety of that then, “So you’re an artist, a jewelry artist.”
It wasn’t a question but Derek nodded anyway, “I use a kiln for bigger pieces but the blowtorches work well for the small ones.”
Stiles said nothing for a moment or two then snickered, “I can’t see it. I hear you saying it but I can not see you making things. Prove it.”
One of the doom brows lifted, “What you want to watch?”
Stiles tossed the ring back to Derek, his own lips curling in a smirk, “Yeah. I want to watch. Unless you’re a delicate flower that’s too shy to show me what you’ve got.”
"Oh I’ll show you what I’ve got," now Derek was smiling, a challenging tilt to his mouth, "but you’ll owe me and these days I collect on my debts."
It wasn’t as much of a threat as Stiles figured Derek was going for, after all he had a lot of ways of repaying his debts to Derek these days.