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"Hey man, your dad let me up. You feeling okay?" Stiles asked the Argent boy, entering his room slowly. "Yeah, yeah. I'm just exhausted, I stayed up all night researching this kanima crap." Apollo sighed, rubbing the dark circles under his eyes. "Anything?" Stiles asked. Apollo merely shook his head tiredly. The huntsman patted his bed, gesturing for stiles to sit beside him. The boy did, leaning back against the headboard. "You look like a wreck." Apollo snorted at Stiles's bluntness. "I need a nap," Apollo yawned falling back, his head landing on Stiles's arm. "Who do you think could be controlling the kanima?" Apollo mumbled tiredly. "Enough supernatural talk tough guy, you look like you're about to drop dead." Stiles snorted, running a hand through Apollo's hair. "That's accurate." The hunter yawned once again, curling into Stiles's side and listening to his heartbeat. "What are you doing?" Stiles whispered hoarsely, a wave of tiredness overtaking him as well. "Listening," Apollo whispered back quietly. Stiles sighed in content, running his hands over the small scar on Apollo's head from where Peter had thrown him into a wall. Apollo smiled in content as Stiles pulled at his air, his eyes becoming heavy as sleep called to him.
And that's how the two stayed for hours, asleep in each other's arms.
