bakerstreet | picture prompt meme.

"That would be cool. I could be a werespark." He let Derek lead him over to the couch, the buzz of using magic echoing in his ears. He'd been practicing all day and had managed to drain himself considerably, but the excitement of it all kept him from realizing the worst of it.

"It wouldn't be cool. How would I explain that to anybody?" The question followed his pulling Stiles down on the couch, sitting beside him as he tried to figure out how to calm him down. Derek wasn't sure it was possible.

"I think me zinging around all sparky would be explanation enough." The last word was said on a yawn, one he half covered as he flopped onto the couch. "I'm a Katy Perry song, Derek."

"I think we all prefer you like this, though." Derek raised his eyebrows a little at the yawn, completely ignoring the Katy Perry comment and the slight urge to tease Stiles and call him a California girl. "Does using that make you tired?"

"Not really. I mean, maybe because I've been doing it all day..." Another yawn and even though Stiles was clearly still excited, that excitement was dimmed a little by the fatigue settling in.

"All day... did Deaton give you any kind of limit?" He watched, eyebrows furrowed slightly, as Stiles yawned again, deciding that he wasn't letting him go anywhere until he got some rest. Not when the chance of falling asleep behind the wheel was lingering.

"Pff, no." He might have said something about over taxing himself, but Stiles had been more intent on learning the hows than the after effects. Oops?

"He should've." Derek nodded over toward his bed, eyes remaining on Stiles. "You should sleep some before you leave here."

"I don' need no stinkin' sleep..." Even as he said it, his head rolled back onto the couch, his eyes slowly closing. "I'm as fresh as a daisy."

He watched him, rolling his eyes after a second as he pushed himself up off of the couch and offered Stiles a hand. "Come on. Take my bed, at least."

"Don't need no stinkin' bed." He might have tried lifting an arm, but it suddenly felt like lead now that he'd expended all that bubbly energy. He'd been so excited to show Derek his trick and he had and now that mission was fading into the need to sleep.

Derek stared for a second then shook his head, leaning in to instead scoop Stiles up so he could carry him over to his bed. Considering the way Stiles looked, he had to wonder exactly how long he was going to be out for, figuring he would call Deaton if it got to a point worth worrying about.

He distantly felt himself being moved, but all he did was lean into Derek, nuzzling against his shoulder with a soft sigh.

Stiles wouldn't be out for more than a few hours, but it would be a deep and exhaustive sleep.

He didn't think much of the way Stiles leaned into him, figuring it was better than having him lean away and fall. Once he put him in bed, he took the time to cover him up then headed back to the couch to wait out his sleeping, checking on him every hour or so as he did.

It was a few hours later that Stiles was able to pull himself out of sleep, groggy and confused as he tried to figure out where he was. Was he in a bed? He was. Whose bed was this? It wasn't his bed. It was...

Oh. Shit. Was he in Derek's bed? How the hell did that happen? "Hmmf?"

At some point, Derek had picked up one of the books he'd had lying around the loft and stretched out on the couch to read to pass time. And, as a result, he'd dozed off, book lying face down against his chest while one arm hung off the side of the couch.

Stiles' waking up didn't strike him right away, the lack of noise leaving him to nap.

Getting up was slow, Stiles still a bit muggy from working himself out so much. But he pulled himself up out of the bed (nooo, more sleep) and stood, looking over to see --

A sleeping werewolf. Aww. How cute. Not that he'd say that out loud. Good god, he enjoyed all his bits and pieces where they were supposed to be. Living was definitely up there on his 'things he liked to do' list. But maybe he should try leaving without waking Derek. He wondered how pissed of he'd be that he'd been sleeping in his bed in the first place.

How did he get there? He vaguely remembered sitting on the couch...

The movement made him stir, but he didn't immediately open his eyes. He just remained in his spot for a little bit, refusing to open his eyes like leaving them closed meant he was actually continuing to get any sleep. It wasn't like he'd been in a solid enough sleep for it to count as much rest anyway.

Eventually, he gave in and opened his eyes, turning his head to look over at Stiles where he was still standing near the bed.

"How're you feeling?"

Oh. Hey. There were those eyes looking at him. They didn't seem angry, so maybe they weren't? "Um, better. I didn't even know I'd worked myself down so much. Sorry."

The last was said with a little big of embarrassment behind it, Stiles feeling somewhat sheepish that he'd actually passed out at Derek's place.

There was nothing angry about Derek's eyes. Or about the way he moved as he pulled the book up, marked the page, then sat up and put it down beside him on the couch.

"It's okay, don't worry about it. Just be careful where you do that. I'm glad you were still here and you hadn't left yet."

He had to think about that, giving a small shudder when he realized how bad that could have been. "Yeesh. Yeah. Thanks for, um, you know. Uh, Derek?"

He lifted a hand and scratched at the back of his head. "How did I get in your bed?"

"Yeah, exactly. So, make sure you're here or with Scott or home if you get to trying things out like that again." He really didn't want to think about the call he'd inevitably end up getting from someone if Stiles was in an accident.

Derek raised his eyebrows a little. "I put you there. You fell asleep over here, so I moved you."

Oh.

Well. Huh. Okay.

"Why?"

Yeah, that was a valid question. He could have just slept on the couch. Clearly Derek was okay with it.

He blinked, shrugging his shoulders. The answer to the question seemed obvious to him, but it wasn't like Stiles had much experience with sleeping on his couch or his bed.

"My bed's more comfortable. And I wasn't sure how long you were gonna sleep."

"Oh."

He rubbed at the back of his head again, looking back at the bed. "Sorry. I, uh..."

Yeah, he had no idea what to say. He was just standing there looking at Derek with a sort of confused expression on his face. "I should go."

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