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Stiles never knew what he was walking into when he showed up at Derek’s loft. A beaten up, bloody werewolf, a psycho killer, or an empty apartment that hasn’t been used in a week. But he had never imagined walking in and discovering this.
“Hey Derek!” Stiles shouts, letting himself in the front door. He glanced around as soon as he stepped inside, trying to size up the situation he was walking into. It was quiet and clear. No brooding wolf in sight. “You here, Sourwolf?” He asked and then listened closely. Silence? Weird.
He ventured into the loft, keeping on alert because in Beacon Hills, you never know what is lurking around. That was when he saw it. The whole loft was actually clean except for what looked like a trail of candy wrappers all over the floor by the couch. “A clue.” Stiles said aloud to himself as he stared at the mess. As he continued farther into the place, following the candy trail, as it led back towards Derek’s room. He poked his head around the corner and there it was, the most unusual sight.
Laying sprawled out on his stomach on the bed was a soundly sleeping Derek. His bed and floor were littered with even more candy wrappers and right by his hand was a few Hershey’s kisses. Stiles was really thrown off. The tall, dark, and broody werewolf who spends most of his free time working out is laying here in a sugar coma? There isn’t even an ounce of fat on the man’s body, yet he is still able to consume what looks like a whole Halloween stash full of candy.
Deeming the situation as safe, Stiles walks over to get a closer look and grabs one of the candies off the bed. He unwrapped it and threw it in his mouth before sitting down on the bed. “Maybe Sourwolf is the wrong nickname for you.” He chuckles and reaches out to nudge Derek’s cheek.
Derek grumbles and mutters into his pillow. “What?” His voice wasn’t angry, or even annoyed. He voice was just soft and sleepy.
“You’re eating enough candy to make a normal person sick, sleeping in the middle of the day, and generally being…cute. So what have you done with the real Derek Hale?” Stiles says, leaning his head down to make sure that Derek can hear him and isn’t falling back asleep.
The wolf’s eyes opened half way to meet with Stiles’ to make sure Stiles was actually the one talking to him and it not be a dream. After confirming it was the real Stilinski, he turned away and buried his head back into the pillow. “Get out.” He muttered and tried to slip back into his nice dream.
“Or what? You’ll rip my throat out with your teeth? Yeah, Der I’ve heard that so many times and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do it. So not really a scary tactic anymore.” The teenager replies and starts bouncing up and down on the bed, being extra irritating just for Derek. He growled in response, this time deeper and more annoyed, but didn’t turn back to face Stiles. “Whatever you came here for, take it and leave.”
“You know I would but I came here for you and I don’t think I can haul your big, sleepy ass out of this bed,” Stiles replies and starts to stretch out on the bed next to him, pushing his body as much up against Derek and taking up as much room as possible.
The wolf’s body suddenly shoots up and he whips his head to glare down at the boy intruding on his nap. “If you want to stay, keep your mouth shut or I will haul your tiny ass out of this bed and send you to Peter.” Stiles’ eyes went wide as he stared up at the grumpy man looming over him. “Okay.” He replied before zipping his lips, locking them and throwing away the key.
Derek’s glare started to dissipate and he laid back down, not bothering to let Stiles before he did and ending up with his body sprawled out now over the teen. Stiles in response squirmed and pushed a bit to try and wiggle his way out, but after a few minutes he realized that he was indeed stuck. A sleeping werewolf on top of him wasn’t so bad. At least he no longer needed a blanket. “For someone who just loaded down on sweets, how are you still a sourwolf?”