One would think that Derek Hale could have the privilege of taking a piss at three o'clock in the morning without anything weird going on. So naturally, he didn't even bother letting his senses have a chance to wake up before he was dragging himself out of bed and trudging across the dusty loft to the bathroom. Nothing worth stressing out over had happened in Beacon Hills lately anyways. The only eventful thing that has gone on this month was when Stiles and Scott dragged everyone, including him to the movie theater and ended up running into Stiles' dad. He hadn't been pleased about Derek "hanging out" with his son, even when the rest of the trouble making bunch was there, laughing in the background while the Sheriff had pulled Derek aside for a talk. Needless to say, it wasn't the most pleasant talk he'd had with someone, and something tells him that it won't be the last.
Rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn, Derek suppressed his wolf's urge to stay on guard, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep if he gave into it. Only when he opened the bathroom door to find a shivering pile of care bear blankets on the floor did he let himself wake up.
"What the hell, Stiles?"
It was definitely the blanket that gave it away. Maybe it was also the fact that the figure started flailing in place- however the hell you did that- when Derek had opened the door. As if the werewolf would strike him down where he flailed if he moved too fast, Stiles slowly removed the part of the blanket that was covering his face.
"Hey Sourwolf." Stiles said with a miniature grin making its way on his face. He sat up to stretch and the blanket fell around his waist, revealing the softest pair of pj's in the history of manufacturing saying something along the lines of, "back off, this smexyness is taken."
Only you, Stiles.
"Why?" Derek didn't feel the need to say anything more than that one word, figuring that the situation was pretty self explanatory.
Stiles looked up at him with his wide bambi eyes and blinked innocently. As if the little shit didn't think he was doing anything wrong. He definitely knew he was being a little shit, too. Stiles sighed in defeat and slumped down against the wall he was lying near.
"You know, I had a perfectly good excuse prepared just in case a situation like this arose. But alas! The truth must come out! I simply donothaveone."
Derek glared at Stiles while the latter grinned up at him with that little shit eating grin he always adored while trying to be smug. "So," Derek started with his arms crossing over his chest, making his biceps flex and Stiles' inner girl swoon. "You crawled through my bathroom window at three o'clock in the morning just so you could cuddle up on my dust riddled floor with a care bear blanket that is probably older than me?"
Stiles glanced down to said blanket and clutched the fabric in between his fingers with a death grip.
"It was my mothers."
Derek's whole being froze at that and he suddenly didn't have the heart to keep up his annoyed expression anymore. Because, of course Stiles would be the only one to stay up at three o'clock in the morning with depressing thoughts on his mind. Because, of course Derek would be the one that Stiles went to when he was looking for comfort.
Because, of course Stiles would be the one to figure out about Derek's secret cuddle monster side.
"I-I mean, you don't have to."
"Nope. You're coming with me."
That was the last thing Stiles heard before his view was occupied by a very sweet looking ass as Derek swung the teen over his shoulder.
"Okay, I can live with this."
Derek shakes his head as he makes his way back to his bed. It was still pretty dark outside, and Derek did a quick glance up at the starry sky through the big window before flopping Stiles down on the mattress. Despite the comfort that the mattress gave, it whined in brief protest while Stiles was still bouncing a little from the initial drop.
"You could have been a little easier." Stiles' bottom lip jutted out in a pout and Derek had to fight off the urge to kiss him for all it was worth.
Bad Derek. Down boy.
By then, Derek had started to settle back into bed right after Stiles before the mentioned teen gave a gleeful shout of victory.
"You still have the stuffed animal that I gave you for Christmas!" He exclaimed happily.
True to the words just spoken, the stuffed penguin with the neon green mohawk that Derek received less than two weeks ago sat on the edge of his bed in all its soft fuzzy glory. Tiny leather jacket and all.
Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles before taking the animal and shoving it in Stiles' chest for him to hold. They then proceeded to try and find the most comfortable cuddling position. After they settled, Stiles made an irritated noise in the back of his throat.
"Why do I gotta be the little spoon!"
Derek rolled his eyes again and let out a suffering sigh before tightening his arms hold on Stiles' slim waist. "You either cuddle my way, or I can throw you out the window to cuddle with the ground."
Stiles sighed like the idea of laying in Derek's arms all night actually bothered him.
"I'd take sexy werewolf over hard ass ground any day."