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It’s not often that Derek wakes up before Stiles. Though they both fall into bed around the same time late in the night, Stiles always gets up first, subsisting during the week on much less sleep than Derek. Even on the weekends, when he lets himself sleep in, Derek will wake up to those amber eyes gazing at him, soft and full of love, and his fingers carding through Derek’s hair. Those mornings are the best, as far as Derek is concerned.
Today, though, when Derek blinks his eyes open, Stiles’ snores are filling the air. Part of him almost wants to record it, just to show Stiles he does, in fact, snore, but mostly he just relishes in the sound for a moment. Honestly surprised, he glances over to his mate, chuckling a little when he sees how sprawled out he is, how his hair is sticking up on end and especially how he’s making sleepy faces to himself.
Best of all, he looks relaxed for once, not worrying about the pack talks Derek has to attend this morning. Everything is set in place already, no complications and none on the horizon as far as they can see. This is one of the last meetings, meant basically to help Derek and the other alpha bond some, and none of the pack members on either side will be there. Derek is a little worried, but he always feels that way when he doesn’t have Stiles at his side in important moments like this one will be.
Gently, he sits up, aware of Stiles’ tendency to jerk awake at sudden movements and shifts in their bed. For a moment, he can’t look away, his eyes catching on the spate of freckles and moles on Stiles’ back.
Forcing himself up, he climbs out of bed and to the closet. When he comes back, dressed up in his more formal—but still comfortable—clothes, he finds Stiles hardly awake, blinking blearily in his direction.
“Sourwolf…?”
Derek goes and crouches down by Stiles, one hand coming up to cup his mate’s cheek. “Just going to that meeting. Go back to sleep,” he whispers, swiping his thumb along Stiles’ cheekbone.
“Ugh, fine. Kiss me first?” Stiles asks, half mumbling, employing a pout and puppy dog eyes.
Unable to deny him anything, Derek leans in and they kiss for a few seconds, nothing more than a peck really, but it leaves him feeling settled and happy. They pull away, eyes closed.
“Sleep,” Derek repeats, standing up.
Stiles mumbles something and turns over, pulling Derek’s pillow over his head.
Grinning to himself, Derek gets one last look before he heads out, confident it will all go well.