Chapter Text
It's apparently stopped raining sometime during the night, because there are some seriously annoying-ass birds outside Stiles's window that are making a fuck-ton of noise, which have managed to rouse him out of an otherwise deep, comforting sleep.
There's something prickly at Stiles's shoulder, and he doesn't even bother to open his eyes this time, because he knows what it is. "You know," he half-slurs, brain still wrapped in fog and fluffy blankets, "it's sort of weirdly nice to wake up with you so close by. Not that I could ever say that to you when you're all intimidating and capable of mauling me and shit. But it's still nice."
There's a soft sigh in Stiles's ear, and a thick-voiced mumbled agreement that accompanies a warm breath against Stiles's shoulder, and Stiles makes an incoherent happy sound and burrows back into the blanket.
And then snaps his eyes open, because, holy shit, that had been a human voice, and human-sized sigh, and that is not the feeling of hedgehog quills against his bare skin, that is stubble.
"Holy shit!" Stiles shouts, totally forgetting that his dad might very well be in the next room, and scrambles upright, nearly tumbling off the edge of the bed in his panic. He whirls around to see an utterly confused-looking Derek Hale scrambling to the opposite side of the bed, the blankets clutched around him protectively. "What the fuck is going on?" he hisses, finally remembering that it might not be a great idea to bring his dad running, with the scene currently set up this way: Stiles shouting, a naked dude in his bed, first thing in the morning.
Naked dude.
"Fuck dude, are you totally naked?" Stiles blurts, and Derek's quick flush as he looks down at himself is confirmation enough. "Wait, let's take a step back. More importantly, holy shit, you're you again."
"Yeah," Derek says, his voice full of doubt and hesitancy. He still hasn't lost that panicked look on his face. He brings one hand, the one not clutching for dear life at the blankets, to his face and touches his nose, mouth, chin, ears, and then runs the hand through his hair. "I am," he says, sounding seriously confused.
"Oh shit, okay, first, please, please don't kill me for anything I've said or done in the last few days, okay? I swear, it's really hard not to pet something that adorable, and it was sort of easy to forget you can usually just end my life with a couple of quick moves, and I just really don't want you to rip my throat out," Stiles says, aware he's babbling, but unable to help it, because not once in all his thinking about getting this whole situation fixed has he thought about the possibility of Derek ending up naked in his bed.
In any other circumstances, he'd have kept that as a nice, semi-delusional daydream.
"I'm not going to rip your throat out," Derek says, a hint of a shocked smile flitting across his still-surprised face. "That hasn't been a legitimate threat in almost a year, you know that, you idiot. Besides, I stopped talking about your throat when I realized I wanted my mouth on it for completely different reas– ohmygod," he says, interrupting himself and looking horrified.
Stiles is still processing that last bit. "Wait, what?"
"Nothing. I didn't say anything."
"No, you said something, all right," Stiles says slowly, cocking his head. He's still mostly in the bed, and now he settles more fully onto the mattress. "What do you mean, you wanted your mouth on my throat?" He's got an irrational hope going here, but he can't voice it. He'd admitted to Derek before that he thinks he's hot, thanks to one drunken night last year, and Derek hadn't said a damned thing, other than to look at him funny and tell him to switch to water and sober up. And yeah, Stiles has had some inappropriate little fantasies, but never has he entertained the possibility of a mutual attraction, because that's fucking insane.
Derek's Adam's apple bobs a few times before words make it out of his mouth. "I've been free to think and say whatever I want for the last few days without you understanding me and judging me, and now I think it's better if I never, ever talk again," he croaks.
"I told you last night I missed your stupid voice," Stiles says, shaking his head, "and you get it back and then vow silence. Yeah, way to be contrary. Also, back up. I want to hear about this throat thing."
"Not in a million years am I repeating that," Derek says, looking like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him.
"Are you saying you're attracted to me?" Stiles presses, and then gets an idea. "Just spit it out and answer, otherwise I will tell everyone you had to use a litter box, and that you snuggled with me at night and slept in my shirt because it smelled like me oh my god, you're into me, you emotionally constipated asshole."
Derek just looks at him helplessly. It's even more pathetic and adorable than it would have been from the hedgehog. "You don't have to – I mean, it doesn't mean any – I understand if you don't – "
Nope, Stiles is not letting that shit fly. He's suddenly fucking giddy, because one, his ridiculously-out-of-his-league crush that's been off and on for over a year has admitted attraction, and two, Derek is not stuck as some helpless little pet and that's a huge fucking worry gone, right there. He launches himself across the bed and basically pins Derek into place. "Just shut the hell up, don't you ruin this. Oh my God, that means all those nuzzles were really you under there, and not just hedgehog stuff, doesn't it?" Derek just blushes harder. "You really are sweet and soft and vulnerable under the prickly exterior," Stiles laughs, and then he's leaning forward and kissing Derek.
Derek goes completely still, just long enough for Stiles to start to think he's totally misread this whole thing, and then he's kissing Stiles back, wrapping his arms around Stiles's waist and holding him close, and Stiles would totally get up and do a victory dance, if he weren't otherwise occupied in more pleasurable pursuits.
"That witch totally did give me a present!" Stiles says when they finally break away, and Derek groans.
"Now I'm wishing she really had kept your voice," he mumbles, his face pressed into Stiles's shoulder.
"Liar," Stiles says, grinning. "But I'm thinking, all things considered, we can keep this whole hedgehog thing a secret. Our first inside joke, as a couple. If, you know, what's what we are."
"Works for me," Derek mumbles, nosing at Stiles's collarbone. "Believe me, it's not something I'm eager to share with everyone." He lifts his head. "Though I really am grateful for all you did to keep me safe. Including not bailing and leaving me at Deaton's."
Stiles shakes his head. "Dude. I told you. We've had each other's back too often for me to even remotely feel like that's okay. You've saved my ass, I return the favor when I can. Even if that's just feed you and keep you from getting eaten and give you a place to sleep. I care about your welfare, dumbass, all joking and sarcasm aside. I thought you'd figured that out sometime in the last couple of years." He looks Derek in the eye. "I mean, I know I said Fate's had a thing about kicking you in the balls and all, but seriously, someone's gotta have your back, right?"
"And you do," Derek says softly, looking less surprised and more grateful, like it's finally sinking in.
"And I do," Stiles confirms. He leans in and kisses Derek again. "Furry, prickly, or bronzed and tattooed, I've got your back."
"Oh my God, really?" Derek huffs, though Stiles doesn't miss the smile on his face.
"Really," Stiles echoes, shifting in Derek's lap. He tilts his head to the side and bares his neck, leaning forward until Derek's nose and mouth are pressed against his pulse point. Derek moans. "Now let's let you have what you want, now that you're you again." When Derek breathes deeply and runs his tongue over Stiles's skin, Stiles laughs softly. "Gotta say, dude, this is a lot better with you in this form. The hedgehog just didn't do it for me."
Derek nips at Stiles's neck, his next words muffled. "I still say that witch could have kept your voice a little longer."
Wrapping his arms around Derek's neck, Stiles huffs. "Yeah, well, it was me she wanted to give the present to. Though I'm telling you, I think this might have just turned out all right for the both of us."