After almost two weeks of chauffeuring Stiles and his friends around wherever they want to go, Derek is done. Like, so fucking done he'll take a wolfsbane bullet right about now, thank you. He'd always been more mature than people his age – because he had to be what with his Werewolf powers – and being saddled with babysitting three teenagers was not Derek's idea of a fun time.
Okay, so they were really fucking entertaining but that didn't mean that Derek wanted to spend another two weeks with them after this. In fact, he doesn't want to see these idiots for a month after this. Except that isn't true either.
Derek thinks he's having more fun with these three kids than he's ever had with his pack. And then he feels really guilty about thinking that. He wonders if it's bad for him to think that he gets along with a group of teenagers better than his family. Better than his pack.
Derek groans and buries his head into the pillow, turning so his back is to the door. He can't sleep, and he's extremely restless. If there were no rampaging Alpha to take care of, he'd go for a run, but he'd rather not take the risk of dying.
There's shuffling in the hallway and Derek dismisses it when another door opens. He closes his eyes and debates getting up and making himself some tea.
Does Scott even have tea in his house? He doesn't think so.
There's more shuffling in the hallway that Derek tries to dismiss when he thinks he hears his name.
He listens for his name again, and he's shocked when the door opens behind him and Stiles – cute, awkward Stiles – calls his name again. Derek doesn't know what to do and he debates just ignoring the brunet so he'll go back to sleep.
But instead of leaving like a normal person would when they get no response, Stiles stands there.
That's when Derek smells it; anxiety and fear wrapped in sweat and saline.
Stiles had probably had a bad dream. A really bad one by the smell of it.
So Derek rolls over and halfway sits up.
"What?" He asks, and it comes out gruffer than he'd intended.
Stiles shuffles and Derek is going to punch him if he says 'never mind'.
"I…I had a bad dream and Scott's sharing his bed with Isaac and…" He stands there awkwardly, playing with the doorknob.
Derek lays there for a moment, waiting for Stiles to finish his statement, when it hits him what Stiles wants from him.
It's not like he hasn't shared his bed with his brother, so there shouldn't be a problem, really. He's even laid down with Stiles before. Only this is…different. Because it's two something in the morning? No. No, that's really not it.
It's because you like him, Derek mind supplies.
"Fine, just hurry up and shut the door."
Stiles quickly shuts the door and makes his way over to the bed Derek has commandeered for the night. Derek thinks he'll try and squeeze onto the bed without touching Derek, but instead he lays practically on top of the Werewolf and leaves plenty of room at the edge.
"There's plenty of room over there, you know." He says before he can stop himself.
He feels Stiles shift before scooting away to where they're barely not touching.
"It's just…I have these bad dreams and the only thing that helps is physical contact."
Now Derek feels like an ass.
"What did you dream about?"
"I was…I think I was being chased. I had to get away but there wasn't anything around at all."
"You think it's a premonition?"
"God, I hope not." Stiles jokes, but there's no humor in his voice.
Derek doesn't know what to say to that so he quickly changes the subject. He get Stiles talking and before he knows it, he's drifting in and out of consciousness. He'd never been able to sleep with other people in the same room. It's hard enough to sleep in his own house when Laura is in the next room and snores like a chainsaw.
So it comes as a surprise when he jerks awake to a knock on 'his' door.
"You awake Derek?" Scott asks, cracking the door open.
"What?" Derek croaks, trying to look at the clock on the nightstand.
It's almost noon. Derek usually wakes up at eight in the morning whether he got enough sleep or not. Except for the day after the full moon; he usually sleeps all day, then. Derek pinches the bridge of his nose and looks back at Scott, who looks like a deer caught in headlights.
"What do you want, Scott?" He really just wants to roll over and fall asleep again, which he can't remember wanting to do ever.
"Well, this actually solves our problem," Isaac intones behind Scott.
"Y-Yeah, you guys just go back to sleep." Scott quickly closes the door.
Derek's mind reels at that. 'You guys?' What did that mean?
Something in the bed moves, and Derek is instantly tense. Looking down, Derek finds Stiles rolling over so he's facing the door. Derek quickly remembers that last night Stiles had come into his room asking for company but he can't, for the life of him, remember falling asleep.
Their stupid prom starts at eight so it's not like they have to get up right now and the thought of curling up in bed with Stiles sound increasingly good the more he thinks about it. Which scares him, more than he'd ever admit.
"Stiles, wake up." Stiles just lays there, blissfully unaware.
He's actually really cute like that, with his face at ease and his mouth slightly open. He's curled up on his side with his back to Derek, though, earlier he must have been facing Derek since he'd rolled over.
"Stiles, wake up." He says, this time a bit more firm.
Stiles jerks slightly when Derek puts his hand on his shoulder before sitting up and looking around in confusion.
He makes a noise of confusion, looking around before looking at Derek, "Wa' 's it?"
"It's already noon, we should get up."
Stiles looks confused and slightly angry and Derek shouldn't find that so fucking cute but he does.
"'S only noon?" He makes a noise of frustration as he flops back down onto the bed, pulling the covers up over his head.
"Scott was worried when he couldn't find you in your room." Derek tells him, sitting up straight and wrapping his arms around one of his legs as he pulls it up.
Stiles hums under the covers. Or maybe it's a grunt. Derek settles on a mix of the two.
Derek, himself, climbs over Stiles and out of bed. He'd brought pajamas but had foregone wearing the shirt since the McCall house ran a lot warmer than his own. He slips the shirt on for decency's sake – he's fairly certain he can hear Scott's mom downstairs in the kitchen complaining about pancakes.
Stiles remains unmoving in the bed and Derek's completely sure that Stiles' is snoring softly.
He can barely stand Laura's snoring when she's in a different room, how could he sleep through Stiles' snoring?
"Stiles, get up." He tries again.
There's a childish noise of denial from the Stiles burrito on the bed and Derek rolls his eyes. Instead of trying to wake him up with words, he takes the same approach that Cora requires.
Derek walks over to the bed and roots around under the blankets before he finds Stiles ankle and pulls him. Stiles hit the floor with a thump and a groan – Derek momentarily forgot that Stiles isn't as durable as Werewolves are and feels a little bad – before pulling the blankets from around his head to glare at Derek.
"Was that necessary?" Stiles demands.
"You weren't getting up."
Stiles groans and gets up, muttering something in another language that Derek doesn't understand. It sounds disgruntled and angry as he bunches up the blanket in his arms and throws it on the bed. The Fae glares at him some more as he storms out of the room.
Derek makes his way downstairs to the smell of burning and the sight of Melissa scrubbing furiously at a pan while Scott and Isaac hang their heads in shame.
Or they're feigning shame because the smiles on their faces are absolutely devious. Derek is confused for all of ten seconds before Stiles comes in behind him with a loud sigh.
"Again?" Stiles groans, walking into the kitchen and getting another pan from a cabinet.
"Sorry." Both boys try to sound apologetic but their grins negate it.
Stiles rolls his eyes before he sets out making 'breakfast', despite the fact that it's a little past noon. Derek watches as he moves about the kitchen as if it's second nature. Stiles jokes with Melissa as he cooks and Melissa tries to clean her nearly ruined pan.
Derek doesn't take his eyes off of Stiles until he hears Isaac snickering. Looking over, Scott looks just as confused as he is but Isaac looks like the cat who caught the canary. Derek narrows his eyes in question and when Isaac looks over at Stiles, Derek blushes at being caught.
He'd counted on Isaac being as oblivious as Scott is.
"Boys," Melissa interrupts their silent conversation, "You should start getting ready. Maybe take a shower." The last part is aimed at Scott, but Derek jumps at the chance to get out of the kitchen.
"I'll just go take one, then."