Did someone say 1970’s pornstar!Derek AU??
[for bree, who was feeling sick today]
Stiles wakes up, and his head is pounding viciously inside his head, and it’s way too bright. He flops over, reaching to grab a pillow, but meets a warm, solid chest instead.
Stiles blinks. He’s not in his bedroom, he realizes immediately. This is— this is Derek’s loft. Derek’s bed.
And that’s Derek, sleeping next to him, bare chest rising and falling. Stiles looks down at himself; he’s wearing only his boxer shorts. Is Derek also—? Stiles picks up the blanket, and sees a broad expanse of skin and quickly sets it down, heart pounding.
Okay, okay, so Derek is naked and Stiles is almost ….just what happened last night?
The One With The Nap Partners
Stiles is really fucking exhausted, and driving home from college in the cold, with only his ipod for company, hasn’t helped matters. When he pulls into the driveway, he blinks, not entirely convinced he’s home. The lack of the cruiser tells Stiles that his dad isn’t back yet; Stiles weighs the idea of carrying his crap inside by himself and decides to leave it in the car due to the high probability that he’ll trip over his feet in an attempt to get inside.
The house still smells the same, even to Stiles’ non wolfy nose, and it’s comforting, like the memories of his mom when he was a kid. Stumbling upstairs, Stiles pushes open the door to his room and kicks off his shoes, pulling his sweater off over his head, and he’s about to unbutton his pants when he stops and stares at his bed. More specifically, he stares at Derek on his bed.
What the fuck.
Stiles is way too fucking tired for this.
your otp has been seeing each other for awhile and person a stays over at person b’s house a lot. and they always bring a bag of clothes for the next day until finally person a looks at them and says “middle drawer, it’s yours.”
Ha ha ha but Derek would be all gruff and uncommunicative about it, probably. So when he silently points out the drawer for the first time, Stiles immediately gets the feeling he’s done something wrong, except he has no idea what, or when. “Uh,” he says, racking his brain, “is this about that time I accidentally left a pair of boxers on your kitchen floor? Because—”
"No," Derek says, hotly. "This is just. Easier."
"Okay," Stiles says, nodding to himself, resolving to try not to leave any more of his possessions lying about Derek’s place, if it bothers him so much.