The Nap

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/2240397.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, sterek - Relationship
Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski
Additional Tags: A Boy and His Wolf, Romance, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Napping, Wolf
Derek, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No
Hale Fire, Drabble, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship
Language: English
Series: Part 11 of A Boy and His Wolf
Stats: Published: 2014-09-01 Words: 1,326 Chapters: 1/1
 The Nap
by orphan_account, twobirdsonesong

Summary

Derek and Stiles indulge in an afternoon nap together (and a little bit something more).

Notes

A Boy and His Wolf is a collaborative project between heavenorspace and myself.

It is a series of vignettes, out of chronological order, set in a world where Derek, in the form
of a wolf, first encountered Stiles when he was a toddler playing in the woods. Derek is under
strict pack orders not to reveal himself as werewolf to the human boy and must only interact
with him as a wolf. When Stiles is a child, their relationship is strictly platonic and protective
in nature. As Stiles grows older that begins to change.

Each drabble will be accompanied by a piece of art drawn by heavenorspace.

Stiles wakes slowly, pulled from his slumber by nothing in particular, save perhaps the
warmth radiating all along his side. He stretches languidly, feeling it all the way down to this
fingers and toes and he squeaks his pleasure, high in his throat.
Against him, Derek grumbles in sleepy annoyance before curling further into Stiles, throwing
an arm across his waist and a leg over his thighs, pinning him down to the bed even more
than he already was. Derek’s breath ghosts against Stiles’ collarbone as he sighs in his sleep
and Stiles grins even as a blush spreads across his skin at the touch. He’s not a wearing a
shirt and his pants are somewhere on the floor and Derek’s naked skin is so warm against his
own. Stiles shifts a little, just to feel the still so new slide of Derek body against his own and
the rasp of his dark hair. Derek’s arm tightens around his waist and Stiles sleepily pats his
back, fingers brushing against the outline of the tattoo that he now knows is there.

It’s a perfect autumn afternoon and the golden sunlight in creeping through the window,
climbing across the bed and warming the parts of Stiles that Derek isn’t touching. They had
fallen asleep kissing, or at least Stiles thinks they did. They’d been reading, sitting next to
each other and leaning against the headboard, shoulders and legs touching. And then Derek
had plucked the book from Stiles’ hands and tossed it aside before he’d curved across him
and buried his face in Stiles’ neck. Derek had inhaled deeply, snuffling into the curve of his
throat as his hand had spread across Stiles’ ribs and Stiles hadn’t really wanted to read after
that.

He remembers kissing Derek for what felt like an hour. Lazy, wet, indulgent kisses that left
his whole body feeling heavy and sated and on edge at the same time. They’d kissed until his
lips felt swollen and bruised, but still aching for more of Derek, more of the sticky-wet slide
of lips and the searching pressure of fingertips. They’d kissed until Stiles’ neck burned with
the marks from Derek’s teeth and tongue and the rough scratch of his stubble. They’d kissed
until they were no longer sitting up against the headboard, but stretched out across Stiles’
bed, slowly tangling together in Stiles’ messy sheets.

He’d lost his shirt to Derek’s greedy hands and then he’d lost his pants too. Stiles remembers
the way his hips had lifted on their own accord to press against the perfect weight of Derek
and the way Derek had pushed back against him. Stiles had known what could happen
between them, there in Stiles bed, where they could take the building ache, the new want that
was always there these day, just under the surface. He knew what Derek could smell on him
and how easily he could hear the heavy, rapid beating of his heart. He knew Derek felt his
desire. With his clothes on the floor and Derek’s senses, there was no hiding it. But it was
still so new, this thing between them, and Stiles was secure enough in himself – and in them -
to know when he wasn’t quite ready for more.

Stiles remembers Derek instinctively pulling back, just a fraction, just enough to let Stiles
know that he knew, that he understood. Derek had smiled into the next kiss even as his hands
had soothed down along Stiles’ flanks.
“I don’t want to leave,” Derek had mumbled against his mouth and Stiles had tightened his
arms around Derek’s body.

“Then don’t,” he’d answered.

They’d fallen asleep still kissing, Stiles is sure, lulled by the warmth of the sun and their own
bodies and the slow rolling pleasure of it all.

Stiles stretches again, as best he can with the weight of Derek’s body pressing him down into
the bed. He likes it though, likes the feeling of Derek’s skin and his heavy muscles, the way
he’s broader than Stiles, the way he can almost cover him completely.

“Stop moving,” Derek mumbles, arm tightening around Stiles’ waist.

“We fell asleep.” Stiles reaches down to card his fingers through Derek’s surprisingly soft
hair. It’s softer than his fur, smoother under Stiles’ fingertips than the coarser brush of
Derek’s ruff.

“I could tell.” Derek sounds deeply pleased, which Stiles doesn’t quite understand, but he
thinks he might be learning.

Stiles scratches his fingers down Derek’s neck and back and he grins at the way Derek pushes
and wriggles into the touch. “I liked it.”

Derek sighs, lips smacking softly. “Me too.”

Stiles feels so young sometimes. Derek isn’t that much older than him, but Stiles is pretty
sure that Derek’s at least done…things. Things they haven’t done yet. Not that Derek cares
about that. But even this is new to Stiles, sleeping with another person, another boy he’s
attracted to. But he likes it. It’s a thrill in a way he never expected and he likes that it’s Derek
who wants him in return.
“We could do this more often,” Stiles edges. “And, you know, maybe more…”

Suddenly, Derek tenses against him, going preternaturally still.

“What?” Stiles asks, fingers quieting their movements against Derek’s tattoo.

“Your dad,” Derek whispers.

“Wha-” But Stiles doesn’t get to finish because Derek is moving in his arms. Stiles gasps at
the uncanny sensation of skin shifting into fur, human arms and legs contorting and sliding
into lupine limbs, spine crackling into a long, new shape.

In the space of several breaths, where Derek was lying half on top of him, now a massive,
black wolf rests against his side, huge head on Stiles’ chest. It should frighten him, what
Derek’s body is capable of, but Stiles cannot be afraid. He knows this wolf, knows him better
than he knows Derek, if he’s perfectly honest.

“Oh my god that was weird,” Stiles exclaims, burying his fingers back in Derek’s thick ruff.
Derek grumbles in his chest and blinks at Stiles. His green-gold eyes are still so incredibly
human and Stiles still wonders how he went so long not realizing his wolf was something
more.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed. That was-”

A knock on his bedroom door startles him and Stiles doesn’t have time to flip a sheet over his
still mostly exposed body before the door swings open and his father fills the doorway.

“Dad!” He squawks.

“Stiles,” the Sheriff says and then his steely eyes drop to the wolf in Stiles’ bed. “Derek.”
Derek huffs, but doesn’t get up. The Sheriff gaze takes in the rumbled sheets and the clothes
on the floor – the pile that includes Derek’s things too – and his eyebrows raise.

“Just…door open, okay?”

“Yes, dad.” Stiles is blushing all the way down to his toes. The Sheriff just shakes his head
and mutters something about hoping he’d have a few more years before dealing with this
before he turns and heads downstairs.

Stiles covers his face his hands. “Oh god.” Derek whuffs and pokes his wet nose against
Stiles’ ribs. “Stop that. You cheated. Shifting like that. Leaving me to dad alone.” Stiles
grabs Derek’s ruff and gives him a little shake. “Just for that you have stay for dinner
tonight.”

Once again, Stiles feels that bizarre sensation of Derek changing against him, body morphing
back to human.

Derek props his chin on Stiles’ chest and blinks those ridiculous eyes at him. “Ok,” he
agrees.

“What?”

“I’ll stay,” Derek murmurs, and his voice is pitched low and private, even though they’re
alone. “For dinner.”

Stiles swallows, feeling that very different kind of weight settle in his chest, warm and
comforting. He knows that what Derek is committing to is more than just a dinner and he’s
breathless with it. “Oh. Ok. Good.”

Derek’s lips quirk in the tiniest of smiles before he ducks his head and presses a soft kiss to
Stiles’ chest, over his heart.
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