Chapter Text
On a good day Stiles is pretty quick to wake, but when his muscles are aching from the previous day’s training, his nose is practically frozen, and Derek is pressed to his back like his own personal heater while they’re both cocooned in a mound of blankets…well…Stiles is inclined to abort the whole process before he begins.
Both his and Derek’s phones begin to vibrate though, rattling against the rickety metal desk across the room. Stiles just groans and wriggles deeper under the blankets and more firmly back into the curve of Der—oh hey…that’s fur against his bare back.
"Dude. Shifting to get out of having to get out of bed to answer the phone is such a dick move," Stiles mumbles fondly not even close to being serious. He glances over his shoulder and is greeted with the rare view of Derek in his full wolf form. Derek cracks an eye at him and then squirms a bit until his muzzle rests against the side of Stiles’ neck. Stiles laughs softly, raises a hand to scratch the top of Derek’s head, and asks, "Heat go out again?"
He gets a distressed whine in response, which he’s gonna take as a yes. That means that the missed calls are from the rest of the Volkov Pack telling them to get their asses over to Dima’s who’s got independent heat. In theory, that’s what they should be doing but it’s been a fucking long and hard week. Stiles scrunches his face up, then mumbles fuck it, and tosses the blankets over their heads and turns around to face Derek. Derek’s eyes light up and cast a faint blue glow in their little blanket den.
Stiles reaches out and runs his fingers through Derek’s dark, thick fur from flank to shoulder. “Whaddya say we hide out here for ten more minutes before we face the world?”
Derek just snuffles, closes his eyes, and presses their foreheads together.