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The first time Derek wakes up it's still dark outside, the sky just a shade lighter than full darkness and it's raining, a drizzle that makes all the sounds muted and makes him feel isolated and safe. Stiles is sleeping next to him and when Derek turns to look he's spread out on his stomach, face buried in Derek's pillow, his own probably on the floor as most nights, limbs spread out as far as they can go, left arm and leg trapping Derek in place. He's making low sounds, a weird combination of snoring and talking in his sleep, his heartbeat as steady and soothing as the rain. Derek moves his head on the pillow close enough their foreheads are touching and goes back to sleep.
*
The second time it's still raining, harder now, but it's completely light outside. The alarm clock says 7.49 and his body is urging him to get up, but he feels lazy and content and doesn't want to. He doesn't have to look at Stiles this time because he is spread over Derek's back like a blanket. Derek's too hot, the sheets wrapped around his legs and Stiles on top of him, but he feels too good and lazy and content to move. He thinks about getting up and making breakfast, maybe bringing it back to bed so they don't actually have to move - the rest of the pack strictly forbidden from coming over during the weekends unless it's an emergency - but he falls back asleep before he can do anything about it.
*
Waking up with the feeling he's being stared at is not a new experience for Derek.
It was disconcerting at the beginning, the way Stiles would just stare at him without saying anything, like he was trying to uncover all of Derek's secrets just by looking at him. It worked on a couple occasions when Derek just couldn't stand the intensity of Stiles' stare and caved. It took him a while to ask Stiles just why he was doing it and Stiles couldn't stop laughing until he was nealy hyperventilating and dizzy from lack of oxygen before he just admitted he stared because he just liked looking at Derek.
They're sharing a pillow again, their noses touching. Stiles' breath smells like mint and Derek knows he's smiling.
“Derek,” he says and Derek stays motionless, keeps his body boneless, pretends to still be sleeping even though he knows Stiles is aware he's faking it. He lost all hope that Stiles is ever going to let him sleep in during the first month after they started having sex and actually waking up in the morning together.
Stiles moves in closer, drags himself on top of Derek, stretching himself across Derek's back, pressing their cheeks together and breathing in deeply.
“Derek. Derek. Derek, make me breakfast. I know you're awake and I demand breakfast. Derek. Derek.” Derek can hear laughter in Stiles' voice and he has to hide his face in the pillow so Stiles wouldn't see his smile even though Stiles knows. Nobody knows him as well as Stiles.
“Derek,” Stiles whines and Derek can't stand it anymore. He buries his face deeper in the pillow and laughs. He can feel Stiles shaking with laughter on top of him and breathes in deeply, scenting the air and smelling nothing but content and arousal. It still surprises him sometimes, blindsides him, that they've been together for years and the want is still there, that Stiles hasn't gotten bored with him, hasn't left yet because the love is there, but there were so many problems along the way that had nothing to do with the supernatural.
Stiles bounces on top of him, knocking the air out of his lungs, one hand coming up to scratch at Derek's scalp.
“You're thinking unhappy thoughts. Stop it. I want breakfast and that means no brooding. I thought I trained you out of that years ago.” He plants a loud, wet kiss to the side of Derek's neck and then rolls off him and gets up, pulling the covers with him. Derek makes an unhappy sound, but rolls over on his back and looks at Stiles, standing next to the bed, smiling.
“You have five minutes to get up or I'm coming to get you and you won't like that. I want my breakfast.” And then he's gone.
Derek sighs and gets up, reluctantly, because it's the weekend, but it's better than letting Stiles handle the breakfast on his own. Knowing him, he'll order take out because he doesn't feel like cooking and Derek is never in the mood for take out in the morning. He washes his face and brushes his teeth thinks about getting dressed, at least putting on a shirt but in the end decides against it and goes down to the kitchen in nothing but his boxers.
When Derek gets to the kitchen Stiles is sitting on the kitchen island, holding a huge mug of coffee in his hands with the reverence of a true addict. Derek stares at him for a moment, just enjoying the sight for a moment, the comforting scent of Stiles and coffee and sleep before moving to stand between Stiles' thighs and leaning to hide his face in the crook of Stiles' neck, arms around his waist. Stiles lifts a hand and starts scratching he back of his neck and Derek's knees go weak a bit so he puts more weight on Stiles which makes him laugh and scratch some more.
It takes Derek a while to find he will to lift his head and straighten up and Stiles doesn't rush him, just talks about a dream he had that was basically about Derek and kittens and how it was probably the best dream he's ever had; tells him John invited them over for lunch the next day; how Allison and Scott are taking the kids to Disneyland which has so much potential for disaster Derek doesn't even want to think about it.
It's only when Stiles finishes his coffee that he actually moves, but only to lean in and kiss Stiles, a lazy kiss he's only recently started letting himself have, the kind of kiss that has no intent behind it. Then he moves away, refills Stiles' mug and busies himself with making pancakes for himself and triple chocolate muffins for Stiles because he craves sugar early in the morning. Later, when they manage to wake up properly and go for a run he'll make them sandwiches and they'll laze on the couch, watching TV for a few hours, just relaxing.
It's more than Derek ever thought he'd have, and there's still some fear he's going to fuck it up somehow, but it's been eight years since they got together and he's learned to use his words when necessary and learned to let himself enjoy things. Enjoy Stiles.