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....
Derek climbed into Stiles’ window. He froze because everything felt wrong. Stiles wasn’t sitting at his computer flipping through a million tabs. Or doing homework. Or playing videogames. No, he was lying in bed. Doing nothing. Still. Derek had never seen Stiles be so still. So used to Stiles’ frenetic energy. All flailing limbs and enthusiasm. Not to mention the smell in the room. It was heavy. None of the brightness Derek was used to....
Stiles stares at the letter. It’s the result of his application to be a summer intern at the FBI. His dad has always been his hero. He’d set his sights on the FBI because, well, why not? He could be a hero. Just like his dad. Especially after surviving high school. He feels crushed. Like the last bit of optimism he had about the future just snuffed out. Long nights finishing his homework....