By the time he time he wakes up, it's just shy of nine in the morning, and Stiles is still heavily asleep. He's also sprawled across him, the blankets still mostly between them making it uncomfortably hot. He's hesitant to wake him given his lack of sleep, so instead he attempts to move him off carefully. The attempt fails, but he does manage to shift the blankets off his chest. It still leaves him with Stiles' arm wrapped awkwardly around him, but at least it's not as stifling.
Seeing the both of them in the mirror above the bed makes him rethink his position, as it does untold things to him. Things he does not want to think about. He pushes Stiles' shoulder perhaps a little too hard, and Stiles jerks awake with flailing limbs and an accidental elbow to Derek's face.
It isn't pleasant.
After Derek washes the blood from his nose off his face, the both of them dress in a fairly awkward silence. Their clothes are mostly dry, and the addition of the heavy coats the check-in girl had brought them keeps them warm as soon as they traipse outside. The snow has stopped and the wind has mostly died down, but there is still a lot of snow. The drift around the jeep is enough that without exposing himself, they'll probably need a couple shovels and half an hour of work just to get it out.
"Good morning, boys. I see you've noticed that we're all stuck for the moment?" It's the check-in girl again.
She's holding a coffee cup in gloved hands and grinning, but she doesn't wait for a reply. "The county trucks should be by to clear the road after eleven. In the mean time, you can come in for vending machine muffins and coffee if you like. Most of the other guests have already partaken and retreated to their rooms."
They do follow her into the office, where Stiles pigs out on muffins and they both drink a cup of coffee. Once they're done, Stiles pipes up an offer to help unbury cars since neither of them have anything better to do. He can't help the low growl he sends towards Stiles, but the response to it is only an even wider grin.
An hour and a half later, they've uncovered six cars enough to pull out once the roads are clear, including the jeep. They're both fairly exhausted, but the check-in girl slips them both fifty dollars. He's not sure if it comes from the motel or her own pocket, but he's also not about to ask.
He's about to suggest they head inside for coffee and warm up when he's hit square in the face with a snowball. Stiles bursts out laughing, leaning over his shovel.
He growls and looks around to see a group of four kids around the eight-ten-twelve age in various states of horror and utter glee.
"Sorry! I was aiming for my brother!" The girl in the group pipes up. He can't be mad at her, even though he really hates being hit in the face with snow. Instead he turns and glares at Stiles for laughing at him.
They turn back to shoveling when Stiles lets out a surprised yelp, then wipes snow off his face. Derek can't help the snort of laughter that bursts out.
"Oh, it's on!" Stiles lets out a battle cry that's almost as funny as the noise he made when he got hit with a snowball.
He's not sure exactly how it happens, but within minutes, both Stiles and himself are lobbing snowballs at the group of kids-the group of kids growing steadily larger as other guests' children and even a parent or two join in.
It's a steady sort of tandem they get going together-dodging behind parked cars, making snowballs, throwing them-and they mostly hold their own against the large group on the other side of the parking lot. The giggling children and laughing adults make an unexpectedly nice backdrop to the snow play. After awhile, it occurs to Derek suddenly that he doesn't only not remember the last time he had a snowball fight, but he doesn't remember the last time he was this happy. It sits a little uneasily in his stomach until he's hit with friendly fire in the face.
The new eruption of peals of children laughing is the only thing that stops him from getting angry with Stiles.
"You were totally spacing out. It couldn't be helped."
Derek glares at him before an idea comes to mind. Stiles looks a little wary, but all that does it make him smirk. Within a few seconds, he moves forward and Stiles falls backwards, flailing ungracefully into a rather large snowdrift.
He can't help the huff of laughter that comes out. It's not quite what he intended, but it's payback all the same. He offers him a hand, and Stiles glares, briefly, before taking it.
The ground is icy though, and Derek slips while helping him up. They fall into the snow, hands still clasped. Stiles lands halfway on top of him, and it's not as awkward as it should be. Derek cuts off his thoughts about how he feels on top of him, and has to ball his free hand into a fist to stop himself from doing something about it.
"Dude, we end up like this a lot."
Derek doesn't disagree.
They both finally manage to get up and separate without falling down again, and the barrage of snowballs coming towards them resume.
Stiles is laughing as he lob a snowball at the giggling children. Derek can't help the smile he can feel spreading across his face at the sight of it. He refuses to think about anything else, not the pack, not what's waiting ahead for them, nothing. He doesn't think he'll get another chance to do something like this just for the sake of doing it.
He's not sure Stiles will either.
He makes another snowball, and jumps back into the fray.