[For once, it's Stiles who wakes up first. He does so slowly, taking a while to pull himself out of the warm drowsiness he's enveloped in. Then he recognizes the warmth and the scent that he's smelling, the steady whooshing of a certain heartbeat and, yep, a familiar chest he's curled up on.
No. Way. No way. No freaking way. This was some huge joke by the werewolf gods to try to kill him via embarrassment. It wasn't bad enough he'd done it once, no... he had to do it every goddamn night, even when he didn't actively know where Derek was.
Oh my god, kill him now. He starts to try to wiggle out of the bed without waking Derek up, hoping he can just leave without anyone being the wiser. Except for him and his scarred for life brain.]
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No. Way. No way. No freaking way. This was some huge joke by the werewolf gods to try to kill him via embarrassment. It wasn't bad enough he'd done it once, no... he had to do it every goddamn night, even when he didn't actively know where Derek was.
Oh my god, kill him now. He starts to try to wiggle out of the bed without waking Derek up, hoping he can just leave without anyone being the wiser. Except for him and his scarred for life brain.]