Stiles is still woozy from orgasm when Derek shifts, stubble scraping across his belly just enough to tickle and make him squirm. He makes a protesting noise and Derek shifts again, nuzzling just to the left.
Stiles lets out a huge breath and grins up at the ceiling where the early morning light is just short of glowing. Derek’s head is a heavy weight on his belly and he lets his fingers delve into the short crop of black hair. It’s surprisingly soft under his fingers, and the low, satisfied rumble that Derek makes whenever he does this is one of Stiles’s top ten favourite sounds of all time, and that includes the memory of his mother’s laughter.
“You have a real talent for waking a guy up right,” Stiles tells the ceiling breathlessly.
“Mmm. That’s exactly what it said in my high school yearbook,” Derek murmurs, and Stiles snickers, helpless as always when Derek makes a joke.
Derek’s never like this in public.
It probably comes from being a member of a high-profile family, but in public he’s always reserved, his face a mask, revealing nothing. It makes these private moment an extra delight to Stiles.
He draws in a huge breath and then sighs it out in a groan when his phone comes to life. Morning alarm. Well, at least he’s ahead of the game this morning. Blow Jobs – 1, Potential to be Early for Work – 1. Life is good.
He reaches for Derek and they tussle for a moment, rolling across the covers and tangling their legs. Derek’s grinning, wide and beautiful, and Stiles is fighting back a ridiculous urge to giggle. When they finally stop, Stiles is sprawled across Derek’s torso, pinning the larger man’s wrists to the bed.
For long moments they just stare at each other, half-smiling, stupid with happiness. How did I end up here? Stiles wonders, for about the ninety-eighth time.
Because the guy leaning in for a soft kiss across the rumpled covers is pretty much Town and Country’s perfect example of an eligible bachelor. In fact – he may have actually even won Bachelor of the Year at some point, Stiles realizes suddenly. Derek’s eligible enough that people at parties blank Stiles like he doesn’t even exist, so determined are they to hit on his boyfriend. And yet Derek is smart and talented and affectionate and somehow, entranced by Stiles.
“You are an unfairly beautiful human being, did you know that?” Stiles says, because compliments are easy, but the deep and multi-layered feelings he’s beginning to have about Derek are hard.
Derek’s eyes drop away and for a moment there’s an odd tension in his body before he rolls his eyes and Stiles drops a kiss on his mouth. He loves Derek’s jokes, and his fascination with polar bears, and the way he gets furious about douchebags making casually bigoted remarks on Twitter, and the way he makes sure to call at least one of his siblings every single day – ugh. Stiles’s chest hurts when he thinks too much about it.
“Now stop trying to trap me in this bed. Some of us have to actually shower and put on clothes before we can earn a living, you know.” He waves a baleful hand in the general direction of the spare room, where Derek’s drafting table sits beneath a skylight.
“I’ll pay you a thousand dollars to go in to work exactly as you are now,” Derek rumbles as Stiles rolls up out of bed.
“Sassy,” Stiles throws over his shoulder. “But I really doubt you want me discussing the latest amendments with the Senator in my birthday suit.”
The bathroom door closes on Derek’s groan of, “Don’t talk about being naked with my mother.”