Psycho Loving [Teen Wolf/Sterek]

Part 2

The first thing Stiles registered when he awakened was his alarm clock. The next was that the last time he'd actually woken up to the annoying bleeping of his radio was before the nightmares had started. 

Then he noticed he wasn't screaming. In fact, he realized, none of his usual post nightmare symptoms- being drenched in sweat, crying, bleeding or twisted around the sheets- could be found.

Stiles rolled over, groaning in annoyance at his alarm, snuggling deeper into his warm bed. Today, he felt like he was sinking into his blankets. There was warmth everywhere in front of him, around him. He never wanted to wake up. His forehead was pressed against something hard- but not an uncomfortable hard. He nuzzled his head into it, pressing closer to the smell of stale cologne.

Cologne?

Stiles opened his eyes (remarkably easily compared to other mornings).

He was met with a dark grey shadow that he could have assumed to be his wall, except his bed wasn't against a wall, and this could-be wall was shifting in a semblance to breath.

Well shit.

Stiles was awake in seconds, stiffening and jerking his body away from whoever he was sharing a bed with, successfully managing to tangle both of their feet in the blankets. Consequently, since their legs were wrapped as well as Christmas presents, as he continued to flail, they shifted.

Stiles froze.

Derek's body uncoiled, legs straightening and tensing, back arching, shoulders rolling, all leading up to a glorious yawn as his eyes fluttered open. Stiles was starstruck for a moment. The now-beta looked incredibly innocent and fresh in this light, and it brightened his face- for a moment there he didn't look so haggard.

Not that he didn't dig the whole haggard thing. Which Stiles definitely did. Which was why his face lit up in various shades of pink as he stumbled for words, all the while Derek's eyes lighting up with morning awareness.

"Why.... What are you doing?!"

"Well I was sleeping."

"In a bed! My bed! Not like your little wolf den loft hideaway but my bed in my room!"

Derek rolled his eyes a bit, like he wanted to point out how completely pointless and obvious the teens statements were. Instead, he just sat up, popping his jaw. He lifted an arm to stretch it down behind his neck. Stiles watched the way his biceps flexed in envy and admiration. He wished he had muscles. He wished he hadn't woken up because he knew at a glance that that chiseled arm had been curled around him all night, and he wanted it back tucking his body against Derek.

Stiles pressed his lips together, shifting around, trying to blindly untangle his feet from the blankets. This was way too awkward and that was saying something, considering Stiless entire life was one awkward moment after another. But this was something else.

Derek suddenly looked up with a low hiss, and Stiles flinched away in surprise.

"Stop moving. Your feet are freezing."

He raised an eyebrow at Derek, shifting his feet some more, face morphing into a devious grin as the sourwolfs face darkened further.

"Stop."

This was something he'd missed. Well, not the morning footsie. That had never happened before. But the fact that while anyone else would have run for their life at that tone of voice from the former alpha, Stiles could just smile. They'd grown a bond. A slow, mutual trust. Stiles knew Derek would never hurt him, purposely. Just as Derek knew he could never be rid of Stiles in his life. He would be the one with the pep talk that made it through his thick skull, the one holding him afloat so to speak.