Stiles noisily closed the door upon entering their apartment, slinging his backpack onto the hall table, and throwing his keys in the bowl while he did so.
“Derek!” he called. “I’ve had such a shit day at work. I need me some Sourwolf love. Get ready to get your cuddle on-“ Stiles stopped abruptly, taking in the sight before him.
Derek lay on his side on the sofa, an arm pillowed under his head, fast asleep. Shane Mack’s I Like That played softly on the stereo in the background. Stiles felt like his heart was lodged somewhere in his throat. These unguarded moments with Derek were something he secretly treasured. Hell, they were his kryptonite, and he’d take that to the grave. Nothing but blue M&Ms could pry that from him.
Stiles moved to the sofa and knelt down beside Derek. Leaning in, he pressed his nose to Derek's temple, rubbing along his hairline, and breathing in his scent. Derek grumbled sleepily.
"I'm home. Move over, I want cuddles, dammit." Stiles nudged him over and Derek, muttering all the while, did so while hauling the younger man into his space. "Go back to sleep."
"What will you do?"
"Watch you like a creeper. Like you used to do with me," Stiles grinned cheekily, snuggling more comfortably into the couch, pressing back against Derek.
"I was nervous, not creepy. It's a fine distinction." Derek's arm wrapped around Stiles' waist, warm and reassuring.
"Potato, tomato, babe. Now, sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." Stiles threaded his fingers through Derek's, and listened to the rhythm of their breathing match, smiling in contentment.
"Nothing but blue M&Ms, babe. Nothing but blue M&Ms," was the last thing he mumbled.