bakerstreet | picture prompt meme.

"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."

Derek didn't really know what to make of the look he was getting. Or of the way Stiles seemed almost bothered by the fact that he'd put him in his bed.

After a second, he pushed himself up, eyebrows furrowed a little.

"You're sure? Are you okay to drive right now?"

Because Stiles was imagining Derek putting him in bed one of three ways. Either he'd just dragged him by an arm or a leg across the floor, in which case he'd probably have some residual pain from that, or he threw him over his shoulder and dumped him in bed, or... he carried him. Like a girl. That idea both bothered him and did something weird to his stomach.

He nodded, hand moving into his pocket to make sure his keys were still there. "Yeah, yeah. I think I'm good now that I'm actually conscious again."

Considering Derek wasn't a caveman and he hadn't been physically fighting Stiles, the dragging option was pretty far off from ever happening. Over his shoulder was always possible, but that seemed like a position that was better when someone was awake. Carrying him like he had was the only option he'd seen and he would've done the same thing again.

"If you tell me you're fine, leave here, and end up in an accident..." He paused. "Just make sure you're okay for it. I can drive you if you're not."

"You'll what, scold me? Ground me? Take away my Nintendo for a week?" The reply was habit and he actually felt bad about it after, especially considering that Derek hadn't tossed him out on his ass.

"Sorry, I guess I'm still a bit tired. And you driving me home is just dumb since you'll have to either run back if you drive my jeep or drive yourself home." Which would leave him to come back somehow for his car.

The reply was shrugged off easily enough. Derek was used to it and, had the situation been any different, he would've fed right into it and bitten back.

"I can take a cab if I have to. Don't argue with me. You're not more stubborn than I am." Honestly, it was more likely that he'd end up running home in the end, but it wasn't like Stiles needed to know that.

"Wanna bet?" Again, he just couldn't help it. "You might be bigger and hairier, but I can definitely be more bullheaded."

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