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Derek really shouldn't be wanting this but Stiles is just there, patiently waiting for him with his mouth slightly open and drooling on his pillow. Derek glared and gave a little huff before looking over his shoulder and wondering if any of the pups - the pack - we're still here from Gaming Tuesday, which really you'd think young adults in college would have something better to do, but nope, they just continually crowded Derek's space. Just because Derek had managed to stop living in abandoned trains and sewers, and had invested in a live-able house doesn't mean he wanted about 12 different people who snuck in or had managed to find duplicates for the key Derek could've sworn he only had a copy of.
Anyways, the only thing Derek heard was the rhythmic flutter of Stiles' heart and at a little soft snore, Derek doesn't even have it in him to glare. Besides.. It wouldn't kill him to crawl in.. It's not as if the whole pack didn't do biweekly pack cuddles...
Derek let out another huff and pulled of his boots with his heel and toe, pulling off his clingy Henley and hesitating when his hands reached his buckle but seriously Stiles was just asking for it.
He pulled on basketball shorts just in case he ended up in any situations that... Actually nope, Derek wasn't even going to go there. Nope. Nope. Even if the kid in his bed isn't a kid anymore, seriously. Platonic. There can’t be anything else really, because there was no way he was going to risk ruining whatever it was that they had established.
He let out a sigh and inches closer, which Derek knows is basically idiotic because yeah Stiles is like 22 now and he has nice broad shoulders and is still drooling with his pink lips slightly tugged open but, it's not like he's going to bite. (No matter how many times Derek has thought about it in his, eherm, personal time)
He pulls the cover little by little, folding the edges over and trying to slink in but it's not really working because, okay he knew stiles had finally grown a couple inches but was it really necessary to be sprawled all over Derek's bed?
Fuck it, he thinks, and tries to sleep how he usually does, gently pushing Stiles so Derek can at least have a side of the bed to himself, but as soon as he reaches an arm out to do that, the kid latches onto him and rolls over, still softly snoring and breathing in deeply all while now sprawling all over Derek instead of his mattress and deeply quilted bed sheets.
Derek painfully holds his breathe, he waits for Stiles to realize what he's doing but he must be worn out by essays and student loans (even though Derek has grunted an offer maybe once or twice not that oblivious stiles had noticed), so he can almost smell and taste the weariness of Stiles on his tongue. Except... he also smells, feels, and tastes like home, so inevitably, werewolf and all, Derek was forced to exhale, which was of course what ended up waking Stiles up – even if it was just the way Stiles’ hooded eyes slitted open, and the kid had the nerve to snuggle closer, not really fitting like a puzzle piece, but close enough that Derek couldn’t delude himself from the feeling in his chest anymore.
"D'nt du dat," Stiles slurs, unabashedly wiping at the spit dribbling of his chin, and then rubs his face against Derek's chest, probably able to hear the deadening sound if Derek's blood rushing and every little organ slowly being ripped to shreds, because he wanted and he wanted it so much more than he should ever because if anyone knew, they would find out the reason why Derek looked so “constipated” when they tried to coax him out of the shell he held so tightly onto.
Okay, things had improved infinitesimally because now Derek actually laughed and he actually smiled even if not as often, and he even did older brother type of things with the pack but things were still bad when they were away and Derek felt so weak at his core. Sure, he was at his physical peak when his pack was near, they all leaned against each other, drew strength from the bonds tying them together, but he felt strongest around Stiles. Stiles, who even was almost finished with college and now called Derek or texted about nonsense, who made Derek reply, and bothered him incessantly, who was a human and got bruised from pack wrestling on the living room and would always try cooking for Derek and instead ended up burning things in the microwave, Stiles who… would never be his.
"Shrhh," stiles seemed to shush him, his grip tightening until all Derek could taste in his mouth was not bitterness but the taste of black coffee, newspaper print, and a little bit of sweat that Derek in no way minded. His nose was pressed against Stiles’ tuft of hair, just near his hairline, and Derek swore every time his lips pressed against his smooth temple, he felt his stomach tightening, and the small tattoo at the base of his neck, just above his shoulders tingled for no fucking reason.
“Mished you,” Stiles lets out another slurred happy sigh and with a fluttering of eyelashes, Derek can’t even stop himself.
Fuck all self shame and preservations.
Derek hitched a leg over Stiles waist in a completely non-sexual manner because it really wasn’t the time for that and even Derek knew that,
Derek can hear Stiles rapid heartbeat, but the curl of his lips let Derek know that this is okay, which is still hard to believe, but he was already weighted to the mattress, and couldn’t find it in him to make any threats about ripping throats with his teeth, because it would show in his voice that nothing had angry heat when it came to Stiles.
“Hng, lurve cuddles wiff you,” and he sounds so damn happy that Derek doesn’t deny it. He just …cuddles? And he thinks, yeah. He can do this. Derek can do this, and he’s already so damn happy that it’s a wonder he hasn’t done something stupid to fuck it up, but he’s still so happy because… he loves stiles.
And luckily, he can’t read Stiles’ mind well enough to hear him think that he wants this to last forever.