[Stiles seems almost satisfied with that before he does what he did the last time Derek was on the couch; he lays himself out over him, almost fitting between his legs but not really as his head rests on Derek's chest. He snuffles up under his chin one more time, just to reassure himself that Derek's fine before he rests back where he was, red eyes closing and one hand curled up beside his face, the other tucked under Derek's back.
no subject
The morning would be so awkward.]