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Derek

When Derek woke up for the second time, his senses were assaulted by the scent of bacon, eggs and syrupy pancakes. He was still on the couch but Stiles no longer lay in his arms. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his hair.

"I didn't know you were a snuggler." His head snapped up to see Stiles in the dining area setting out cutlery.

"I'm not." Derek sighed.

"The position we woke up in begs to differ." Stiles snorted. "Come eat some breakfast, Hulk." Derek rolled his eyes but did as he was told, sitting down at the table. "Coffee?" Stiles asked.

"Sure."

"Let me guess, no milk no sugar." He grinned.

"No milk, but one sugar."

"Aw. Snuggly with a sweet tooth."

Stiles disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two mugs emblazoned with the Batman emblem.

"You like Batman huh." Derek murmured.

"Duh. He's the best."

"I prefer wolverine."

"Why doesn't that surprise me." Stiles smirked.

Derek raised an eyebrow. The younger man left again and returned with three plates precariously balanced in his arms, Derek moved to help him but Stiles shook his head and expertly set them down on the table.

"I was a waiter back in college." He smiled almost shyly, scratching his neck absentmindedly.

"I can see it."

"Isn't it a little early for fantasies of me in an apron?" He smirked.

"It's a little early for you in general." Derek muttered.

As expected, Stiles took no offence and began piling food on his plate and Derek followed suit. He expected to feel awkward about his impromptu sleeping over, but oddly, the situation felt normal, almost natural. He  was also pleasantly surprised to find that Stiles was not a bad cook either, he tucked in to his food heartily.

"S'good." He complimented through a mouthful of bacon. Stiles raised an eyebrow but smiled gratefully, making Derek's heart falter momentarily. What was going on with him? He decided it was time to think objectively, he had work to do and playing house with Stiles was really screwing with his brain. He polished off the rest of his plate and brushed his hands together. "Where's your bathroom?" He asked.

Stiles looked up from his cup of coffee, his cheeks slightly pink.

"Uh, it's just down there, second door." He pointed Derek in the right direction and began collecting the empty plates. Derek pushed his chair back underneath the table and made for the bathroom. Just as he passed the first door, he noticed that it was open and presumably Stiles' room. He paused, listening to his two consciences argue over whether or not to look inside.

Eventually, curiosity won over and he peeked inside, feeling guilty. The room was predictably the same size as his own, white walls decorated with various comic posters and photos of Stiles and friends. A bedside table sat on the left side of the room underneath the window and bore a few comic books and an angled lamp. The room was relatively tidy, save for the pieces of wood that lay haphazardly around the floor and a double mattress in the middle of the chaos.

It didn't particularly surprise Derek that it was beyond Stiles to even assemble a bed, but he couldn't help but feel the need to do it for him. It was a side effect of being a handy man, anything that he saw that needed fixing or improvement he ached to work on.

"Done snooping?" Derek jumped in shock at the sound of a mildly irritated Stiles right behind him. "I believe I said the bathroom was the second door." He reiterated, evidently embarrassed.

"You ever gonna put that together?" Derek blurted, Stiles blushed.

"I was gonna get my friend to help but I guess I've been busy with work and stuff."

Derek eyed the disassembled structure longingly, hoping Stiles would just ask.

"You think... You think you could do it?" Stiles suggested, ears bright red and eyes on the floor.

"I guess. Don't you have to go to work?" He replied.

"Shit! Yes I do! Shit shit shit." Stiles exclaimed, brushing past Derek into the room.

He began pulling clothing items from his closet and tossing them on the mattress. In his frenzy, he appeared to forget Derek was still standing there as he pulled off his shirt and pants. Derek found himself rooted to the spot as he admired Stiles' long limbs and lithe physique. The familiar lust he felt when he was in Stiles' apartment after their evening in the bar crept down from his brain to his groin.

The sudden realisation of how creepy what he was doing was hit him hard and he quickly turned on his heel, going to the bathroom to do his business.

*

When Derek left the bathroom, Stiles was ready for work and pulling a satchel over his shoulders. He was wearing glasses that made him appear unexpectedly mature, they suited him dangerously well. Stiles tugged at his shirt nervously and glanced about the room.

"So uh if you want you can just stay and put the bed together or come over later."

"That's a little dangerous, leaving a stranger in your house unsupervised." Derek retorted sarcastically.

"I know where you live, my dad is the sheriff. Not to mention I can give one hell of a description of you." Stiles argued. Derek couldn't help the upward twitch of his lips at Stiles' pluck.

"Whatever you say."

"I'll erm, see you later." Stiles nodded and adjusted the satchel hanging from his left shoulder, turning to leave. Acting on impulse, Derek grasped him by the shoulder.

"Thanks." He blurted. "For letting me stay and stuff." Stiles allowed a wide grin to creep across his face and pulled Derek in for an unexpected, quick hug, then made a swift exit.

Derek stood still for a moment once the door had closed, processing what had just happened. He couldn't remember the last time someone had hugged him, at least not innocently. A warm feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, it was unfamiliar, yet made him almost nostalgic.

He realised it reminded him of when his siblings were still alive, his sisters would hug him all the time much to his chagrin. He never had the chance to appreciate it properly.

Pushing the depressing thoughts from his mind, he walked purposefully back to Stiles' room and set about examining the planks of wood and assessing what tools he'd need to put the bed together. Luckily, it only required a screw driver, and he propped open the front door to Stiles apartment while he went to his own to retrieve one.

The bed was a fairly simple model and only took Derek half an hour to put up. When he was finished, he lifted the mattress with ease and dropped it down on the frame, and then the comforter and pillows. He stood back to admire his handiwork, hands in his hips.

For some reason, he became overwhelmed with the desire to look inside the drawer in the bedside table. All Derek had thought about since the incident after he and Stiles drank together was Stiles and how he wanted to know more about him. He was right in house, a treasure chest full of information about him, was it really so bad that he wanted to take advantage of it?

He reached out to the handle on the drawer, hesitated, then opened it. It was half filled with an array of random items. An aged but flashy watch, a glasses case, headache pills, another bottle of pills that Derek happened to read the label of; Adderall. A photo of a pretty woman who resembled Stiles, she had long brown hair and pretty eyes that were the same Amber brown as him.

There was a little black box also and Derek wondered whether it was going too far to look in there too. The contents of the drawer so far hadn't been anything shocking or embarrassment, so why would the box and its contents be? With that logic, Derek reached inside and opened it.

His face instantly flushed. Inside the box were a few condoms and a small bottle that he didn't even need to read the label of. He had the same one at home. Derek fumbled to put the lid back on and shove it back in the drawer and close it. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, feeling invasive and guilty.

He wondered if Stiles had thought about anyone in particular he wanted to use the items in the box with. Someone at work? Was he seeing anyone? Or maybe... Derek? He shook the thought from his head as soon as it popped up. If Stiles had wanted to continue their all too short make out session he'd have made a move last night, surely?

Derek felt the memories of that night having an effect on his nether regions and decided it was high time he went home and took a very cold shower. He found a piece of paper and scribbled out a note to Stiles, leaving it on the bed.

'Any further problems with bed, call. D.' He wondered if it was really necessary to say anything, and if the message seemed a little suggestive. In the end he concluded that he didn't care how Stiles interpreted it and left the apartment.

Deep down, Derek couldn't shake the hope that Stiles did think it suggestive.

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