“You do realise I bought this new mattress so you would stop sleeping on me?” Derek’s voice rumbles through his into Stiles’s and Stiles shifts, presses his face into Derek’s neck.
“You’re more comfortable,” he mutters sleepily and Derek runs a hand up his thigh.
“You’re heavy,” Derek replies, his fingers dipping under Stiles’s underwear. Stiles shifts again, presses his hips downwards and drags his lips across Derek’s neck.
“No I’m not,” Stiles sulks and Derek lets out a laugh, winds his other arm around Stiles and pulls him tighter to him.
“No,” he says, and Stiles slides his lips across his cheek, “you’re not,” Derek mutters into Stiles’s mouth.
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