Stiles stirs out of sleep because he needed to pee like five minutes ago. Of course, Derek is wrapped around him like a fucking wereoctopus so it takes him five excruciating minutes to extricate himself.
He stumbles into the bathroom and doesn’t bother turning on the light. He leaves the door open enough to let some light in. Doesn’t want to fuck up his night vision and wake himself up more.
Stiles finishes his business and stumbles back into bed. Derek immediately glomps on and he drifts off with a deep feeling of warmth and contentment.
Waking up next to Derek is always the way Stiles’ best days start. Wrapped safely in his arms and feeling content. Stiles would give anything to spend every night in Derek’s arms but they only share a bed a couple of times a week. Significantly more than is usual between two friends, even friends as close as they are, but Stiles doesn’t particularly care.
How can he when he’s surrounded by the scent of Derek? When Stiles gets to see his sleepy morning smile? When he gets to see Derek’s beautiful starburst eyes flutter open? The way they crinkle at the corners when he realizes that he’s holding Stiles?
Today is going to be a good day.
He watches as Derek slowly opens his eyes. As he softly smiles down at Stiles. As he gets out of bed to go for a run. Stiles can hear Derek starting the coffee in their kitchen. Soon – after it’s finished – Stiles will get up.
He isn’t much use to anyone before his first cup.
The door shuts and Stiles just lets himself drift for a moment. Inhaling Derek’s scent on his pillow. The coffee finishes and he gets up for his first cup.
It’s perfectly made, as always. He sits at their table and reads the news on his phone. When he’s about halfway done his cup, he gets up to start the kettle.
When he’s done his first cup, he gets up to prepare Derek’s tea. They’ve been living together for five years now and they have a rhythm to their mornings. Stiles has no real way to tell when Derek will be back but he always returns not long after his tea is ready.
Stiles sets the timer for the correct steeping time and pours himself another cup of coffee. Right on time, Derek opens the door and comes in sweaty and gross. So, of course, he immediately gives Stiles a sweaty hug and rubs his damp hair on his neck, “Gross, dude. Why do you always do this?”
Derek gives him a soft bite on the neck and murmurs, “Thanks for the tea.”
They both know that Stiles isn’t bothered by Derek’s sweaty hug. They both like it when he smells like Derek. Heck, they both like it when Derek smells like Stiles. Not that Stiles can smell it himself but…
He knows what it means to wolves.
They both find comfort in pack.
They take their cups to the table and drink quietly. Stiles reading the news and Derek brooding. Even after all these years, it’s a favourite hobby of his. Unlike when he was young, though, Stiles doesn’t mock him for it.
They both have a lot of reasons to brood. It’s just that Stiles prefers to subsume his angst into distraction, rather than dwelling. Neither is really the best coping mechanism but the beauty of their friendship is that they don’t judge.
Not anymore.
They decide to take a walk in the afternoon. What they do on slow days like this depends but they both like going on walks in the preserve. Derek still works out a ridiculous amount and Stiles stays fighting trim but the walks aren’t about exercise.
They’re about spending time together. They’ll walk around and talk to each other. Check-in. See how the other person is doing. It’s usually Stiles’ second or third favourite time of the day (the first always being any time he gets to cuddle with Derek).
“So… How’re you doing?” Stiles asks as they start down their usual trail.
“Fine,” Derek grunts.
Which, of course, means that he isn’t fine but Stiles isn’t worried. He doesn’t push. He’s learned the ebbs and flows of their conversations. If he gives Derek the time he needs, he’ll talk on his own.
“I’m thinking about working again,” Derek finally says.
Stiles is surprised. Derek hasn’t had a regular job since he left New York and came back to Beacon Hills, all those years ago. This would be a huge step for him.
“Really? That’s awesome, dude. Finally getting bored with lazing about and being independently wealthy?” Stiles teases. (He can’t judge since he lives off of Hale money too.)
Derek just rolls his eyes, “No, just feeling like I might be ready to re-engage with the world again. Only part-time, though.”
Stiles actually stops to pull Derek into a hug, “That is so great to hear, big guy. Seriously. I’m glad that you finally feel strong enough to do that. You’re so fucking awesome.”
Derek’s arms are tight around him. A soft shuddering exhale. Deep inhales of the scent of the forest and Stiles.
Derek has been his best friend for years now. Perhaps his most deeply guarded secret is how much he craves and responds to praise. It isn’t something he’s had a lot of since the fire. Some of it is his fault.
A lot of it isn’t.
It’s a testament to where they are right now, as friends, that Derek will actually accept praise from Stiles. That he’ll accept it at all.
Stiles’ heart feels so full of love. He hugs Derek harder and scent marks him by rubbing his face on Derek’s shoulder.
To celebrate, Stiles decides that he’s going to cook dinner. It isn’t something he often does.
The thing is, Stiles is a great cook. The problem is that he hates cooking. He started after his mom died because his dad had one slightly bad physical and he’d been desperately afraid of losing him too. So he’d appointed himself his dad’s dietary watchdog.
It’d been a thankless task.
It had also been really hard to juggle with school and the additional chores he did around the house, since his dad sure wasn’t doing them. He’d had ADHD and school was enough of a challenge without all the extra stuff.
It’d been the start of his habit of putting way too much on his plate and pushing himself far beyond his actual abilities.
He’d done it out of love and anxiety. Out of a need to take care of his dad.
Looking back, he knows how unhealthy it was. How shitty it was that his dad – being the parent and all – hadn’t provided the same level of care.
But…
Once in a while, like tonight, he cooks to celebrate something. Lately, he’s been doing it for Derek more frequently, because he truly appreciates it when Stiles cooks.
He’s making Derek’s favourite.
“Thanks for making dinner, Stiles. It looks amazing. You really didn’t have to,” Derek says as soon as he sits.
“Sourwolf, I know I don’t have to but you totally deserve it. I just wanted to celebrate, you know? While I do think that every day should be Sourwolf Appreciation Day, today has been extra awesome,” Stiles responds.
Derek blushes a little – as he frequently does when Stiles praises him.
The conversation is light and easy. Stiles sometimes thinks that this is the best thing he’s ever done in his life. Helping to create the space and opportunity for Derek to be lighthearted, to laugh again.
He’d fallen in love years ago and vowed to do whatever it took to make Derek happy.
And he was succeeding.
Derek follows him to bed that night. It’s the cherry on top of a pretty perfect day.
There’s almost nothing Stiles likes more than being held by Derek. He loves the way it makes him feel small and safe.
He always laughs at the way that people attribute sexual positions to cuddling.
Derek doesn’t like being the big spoon because he’s more butch or whatever (Derek Hale will always be softer than Stiles in all the ways that matter). It makes him feel safe and secure to have someone alive and real in his arms. He’s spent so much time alone (and being lonely) that having the visceral comfort of someone he can squeeze does it for him.
Cuddling isn’t sex. Big spoon does not equal ’top’ – not that Stiles would know if Derek is a top, bottom, or anything else since they’ve never had sex.
The point is that it works for them. Gives them both what they need to feel connected and secure.
Stiles drifts off to sleep that night with a smile on his face.