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Stiles woke up because he was shivering so hard his teeth were clacking together.
He took a second to appreciate the irony, freezing to death while lying next to a supernaturally warm person, before he flung his arm out and smacked Derek in the face, who woke with a start.
“What’s wrong?” he snarled through his fangs, eyes glowing red and ready to defend them from any attack.
“Stop hogging all the blankets,” Stiles managed to get out and Derek turned towards him.
“What?” he asked and Stiles punched him again.
“You’re a werewolf, you shouldn’t even need all these blankets,” Stiles said. “Me on the other hand, I’m just a fragile human, who will freeze to death in this fridge you call a loft.” He hissed the last part and Derek looked guilty.
“I’m not doing it on purpose,” he defended himself and looked down at all the blankets he had wrapped around him.
They had tried adding more blankets to the bed, but they always somehow ended up with Derek, leaving Stiles naked on the bed.
He supposed he could sleep with pants and a pullover but neither Derek nor Stiles appreciated that so Stiles was left to suffer more nights than not.
“This clearly isn’t working,” Stiles decidedly said and Derek immediately got this panicked look on his face, like Stiles would just get up and leave him over something like this.
What an idiot, Stiles thought and then wormed his hand underneath Derek’s blanket cocoon.
“Get over here,” he demanded and pulled on Derek’s hand when he finally found it.
Goosebumps were breaking out all over his arm, because it was just so warm under the blankets and Stiles absolutely looked forward to waking up sweaty and overheated.
“What,” Derek said, clearly not getting what Stiles wanted and Stiles tugged on him again.
“Come here,” he whined and finally Derek allowed himself to be moved.
Stiles flopped back down and pulled Derek down on top of him, going momentarily breathless when Derek rested his full weight on him, but then he was engulfed in warmth and he wouldn’t even mind if Derek crushed him.
“If you can’t share the blankets, we’ll have to do this,” Stiles explained and Derek huffed.
“I told you, I’m sorry about the blankets.”
“That’s not gonna keep me warm at night,” Stiles gave back and wrapped his arms around Derek, arranging the blankets to his liking in the process.
“You know what will though?” he asked and even though it was more rhetorical than anything Derek shook his head.
“You lying on top of me like that, because then the blankets will be on top of both of us and I get to profit from your supernatural warmth, which again, should prevent you from needing that many blankets in the first place.”
“It’s comfortable,” Derek defended himself and Stiles smirked.
“You don’t say,” he teased. “I would know that too, if I ever had the chance to find out.”
“You’re the worst boyfriend ever,” Derek grumbled but settled in on top of Stiles.
“Yeah, how dare I want to be warm at night,” Stiles gave back and poked Derek in the side. “How dare I suggest cuddles as a solution. I am clearly the worst,” Stiles lamented, and Derek snorted.
“Shut up now,” he said and kissed a trail up Stiles’ neck. “You’re warm, so sleep.”
“So pushy,” Stiles said and slightly shook his head but smacked a kiss on Derek’s cheek nonetheless.
“Don’t move,” he said through a yawn, fatigue finally setting in again now that he was getting warmer with every second.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Derek gave back and promptly fell asleep on Stiles.
Stiles wasn’t far behind though and it was one of the best nights he’d had at the loft.