A Sterek sentence starter prompt if you want to: “We always share blankets on the couch, I’m sure sharing the bed for the night is fine too.”
I’m such a slut for bed sharing. (also on ao3!)
"I mean, we always share blankets on the couch, I'm sure sharing a bed for the night will be fine," Stiles said but somehow Derek didn't share Stiles' optimism.
To celebrate the end of the fall semester, the pack decided to go on vacation together. There had been a vote and while a few of them would have preferred a trip to somewhere tropical and warm, ultimately camping won out.
As it just so happened, Derek's family owned a luxury cabin nestled comfortably in the Rocky Mountains on the very edge of the Hales' vast territory. It was perfect for the pack vacation, far enough away from civilization that everyone could have some well deserved uninterrupted downtime but close enough to a nearby town that they did not have to go without modern amenities.
The cabin was beautiful, made of dark stained oak with large windows that let the pale winter sunlight shine into the living room and gave the cabin a bit of a Frank Lloyd Wright feel. It had a large stone fireplace that warmed the whole house, a beautiful centerpiece to the wondrous cabin.
Along with the multiple bedrooms and spacious living room, the cabin boasted a fancy modern kitchen with cherry wood cabinets and dark granite countertops. The oven was brand new, along with the other appliances, stainless steel and unused.
While Derek had not visited the cabin since before the fire, he made sure that it was always well maintained, routinely buying the best new appliances and other amenities. Every few weeks, a professional cleaning service came and tended to the house, even when it wasn't necessarily needed.
Throughout his childhood, the cabin had been a home away from home for him, always instilling a deep calm in him that couldn't be matched by anything else. That was one of the reasons why he wanted to take the pack to the cabin so much, wanting to share his snowy sanctuary with the most important people in his life.
Fortunately, the cabin had the perfect amount of bedrooms for the pack, five in total. But then Peter had to go and ruin their plans.
Originally the bedrooms had been divided up with Boyd and Erica in one room, Kira and Allison in one, and Scott and Isaac in another. The two remaining rooms had been given to Derek and Stiles, both Peter and Jackson opting not to visit the cabin.
But then, in true Peter fashion, Derek's uncle had shown up unexpectedly at the cabin with two suitcases and a shit eating grin, claiming he had changed his mind and would love to spend some time in the family cabin. Of course, that meant that the rooming arrangements had to be altered.
First, it was suggested that Peter just sleep on one of the couches in the living room. But, of course, that just wasn't good enough for Peter and he demanded a room for himself.
Then, Scott had invited Stiles to room with him and Isaac but both Stiles and Isaac vehemently refused. Isaac was looking forward to spending break with his boyfriend and Stiles didn't want to be stuck in a room with his best friend and his new boyfriend, it was bad enough he had already walked in on them a few times.
Next, Derek had volunteered to sleep on the couch and give Stiles his room. The couches were definitely comfortable enough to spend a handful of nights on and Derek didn't really mind.
Stiles had counter offered to ride the couch, instead, insisting that it was Derek's cabin and he should get a comfy bed to sleep in. They had started bickering about it, both of them coming up with various reasons why they should be the one relegated to the couch, when Peter had chimed in and offered to share a bedroom with Stiles.
His hackles rising, Derek had growled that he and Stiles would share a room, punctuating his announcement by grabbing both his and Stiles' suitcases and carrying them up the stairs to the master bedroom. Stiles had jogged after him with a shocked squeak, his pillow clutched tightly in his arms.
At the time he made the claim, Derek didn't really think that it would be so bad, reasoning that with the master bedroom's California king bed they wouldn't even notice that they were sharing a room. But now that their first day at the cabin was winding down, the sky outside pitch black and dotted with bright white stars, it was dawning on him that this was going to be a bit more complicated than he thought.
Most of them had spent the day settling into their rooms before gathering in the living room to roast marshmallows in the fireplace and try the expensive vodka Erica found in one of the kitchen cabinets. Both Stiles and Derek had studiously avoided the room they were to share, busying themselves with other things.
As Stiles called the Sheriff to let him know that they had gotten to the cabin safely, assuring his dad that he would run home the second he needed him. To give Stiles some privacy, Derek had braved the bitter cold of the forest to gather some more wood for the fireplace.
Just as Stiles said, he and Derek did in fact usually share blankets while lounging on the couch in the loft, especially after long nights of research. But while they had often fallen asleep together, Stiles' head on Derek's shoulder, sharing a bed was something different altogether.
The bed seemed much smaller than the last time he had seen it, especially when he took into consideration Stiles' long limbs and tendency to starfish out when he slept. But despite the lack of room to stretch, the bed looked unbelievably comfortable with its thick blanket and fluffy pillows. And he was so tired that he just wanted to fall into bed and conk out for a full eight hours.
"What side do you usually sleep on?" Stiles asked, drawing Derek's attention away from the siren call of the bed. He was standing by the side of the bed in his pajamas, blue striped pajama pants and a baggy orange t-shirt, holding his pillow in his arms and biting his lip.
"This side," Derek answered, indicating his preferred side of the bed with a wave of his hand. Stiles flashed him a grin and plopped down on the other side of the bed, setting his pillow on top of the other two already on the bed.
Stiles had already showered and brushed his teeth in the en suite bathroom, smelling of mint and body wash, leaving the door of the bathroom open for Derek to get ready for bed. Leaving Stiles to get comfortable in bed, Derek trotted into the bathroom and mechanically brushed his teeth, giving himself a little pep talk, trying to reassure himself that sharing a bed wouldn't be all that bad.
But considering for how long he had been harboring feelings for Stiles, it would be a veritable miracle if things went smoothly. Derek had never had very good luck, though, so his hopes that he wouldn't make things awkward weren't very high.
After gargling with some strong mouthwash and rinsing his face with some cold water, Derek realized something and poked his head out the bathroom. He hoped his nervousness wasn't obvious as he explained, "I, uh, usually sleep without a shirt. That okay?"
It wasn't exactly a lie, not really. He really did usually sleep with no shirt on. Or pants. Or underwear. He liked to sleep naked, okay?
It was just more comfortable, loving the feel of soft sheets against his naked skin. Maybe it was a wolf thing, maybe it was just a Derek thing, but either way, he definitely had to alter his routine because there was no way he was climbing into bed naked with Stiles. At least, not while he was awake, though the scenario was a frequent star of his late night dreams.
Instead, Derek just peeled off his t-shirt, keeping on the baggy gray sweatpants he had changed into after the dinner Stiles had cooked earlier. Still a bit wary, Derek turned off the lights and padded out of the bathroom, stretching a bit as he made his way to his side of the bed.
Pulling the covers back, he let out a deep yawn and climbed into bed, sighing as he laid down and stretched out his legs. The bed was even more comfortable than it looked. Stiles flicked the bedroom lights off a few seconds later, mumbling, "Night, Derek."
Despite how luxuriously comfy the bed was, Derek didn't let himself take advantage of it. He huddled close to the edge of the mattress, close to tumbling off the bed and into the floor that didn't look anywhere as soft as the bed.
It wasn't the best position to fall asleep in but exhaustion made his eyelids heavy, the sweet call of sleep lulling him into a light doze that was rudely interrupted when Stiles smacked him in the face with his hand. Nearly falling out of bed as he jolted, Derek hissed, "What the hell?!"
"Mmm... Sorry..." Stiles mumbled, his eyes still closed as he scrunched up his nose and issued his half-assed apology. A moment later, he cracked one eye open and frowned, jutting out his bottom lip as he wondered aloud, "What're you doing all the way over there?"
Derek opened his mouth to explain and promptly realized that he didn't have a good reason and he couldn't come up with any, either. That left him gaping at Stiles like the talking big mouth bass mounted on the wall in the Sheriff's office.
"C'mere, dude," Stiles slurred, motioning Derek over with his hand, raising his brows impatiently. Derek silently obeyed, scooching over towards the center of the bed where Stiles promptly threw an arm around his chest and closed his eyes again, murmuring, "See? Isn't that better?"
But Derek remained stock still. He had no idea what to do.
He had a sneaking suspicion it was all a dream and he would wake up alone in his bedroom, surrounded by cold sheets. But the warmth of Stiles beside him felt so real he didn't care, willing to lie there forever if it meant he could be in Stiles' arms.
He turned his head to look at Stiles, expecting gently closed eyes and parted lips as he snored, but Stiles was looking right back at him. They smiled at each other, both content with just lying there together.
Then, completely out of nowhere, Stiles leaned forward a few centimeters and pressed his lips to Derek's in a gentle kiss. It was the sweetest kiss Derek ever had the pleasure of enjoying, soft and unhurried with no intent behind it, just a kiss for the sake of kissing.
"Sorry," Stiles murmured as he ducked his chin, uncharacteristically shy. He licked his lips, whether it was out of nervousness or embarrassment Derek didn't know, and elaborated, "It's just... If I didn't do it right now, I probably never would've."
Derek smiled widely and shifted to lie on his side, lifting his left hand to cup Stiles' cheek and guide their lips back together. It looked there was still some magic in his cabin sanctuary.
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“Vacation my ass,” Stiles wails while he adjusts his backpack. His sunglasses are halfway down the bridge of his nose and his hair looks disheveled, falling loosely over his forehead. There’s sweat glistening on his face. If Derek listens closely, he can hear his shallow breathing. Stiles pushes the sunglasses up his nose.
“Stop whining, idiot,” Cora says from behind them. She places her hands on his backpack and starts pushing him forwards. Stiles struggles against her shove, steps sideways to throw her off. She smirks at him when she walks past; Stiles glowers menacingly in her direction. “You agreed to come.”
“Because I was expecting relaxation. Chilling in the sun. Gorging myself into food comas. Not moving more than strictly necessary,” Stiles argues and sets after her, picking up his pace considerably to keep up with her. “I didn’t know you would drag me off to climb mountains.”
“We’re hiking,” Cora scoffs rolling her eyes. “There’s a distinct difference, genius.”
“And what is that?”
“You’d be dead already if we actually climbed mountains.”
If Stiles thought holding it all in was painful, he was wrong.
Self-forgiveness felt more painful - like extracting poison, removing dust and allowing light to illuminate places within which had grown dark for too long.
-
A Pack Vacation/Bed Sharing Fic
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The pack is going on vacation in the Mediterranean. Stiles and Derek find themselves in the water as the boat leaves them behind. Now they have to spend the night together, on that isolated beach. Oh the tragedy.
"It looks like our dreams of a pack vacation are now--"
—alive forever in AUs where no one died except Peter, where Allison and Stiles gang up on everyone on the pier, pushing people off and canon balling into the cool, clear water. Lydia is content to lean back against a sun lounge on the beach with a cocktail in her hand, promising bloody murder to anyone who splashes her. Scott and Boyd do handstands under water and Cora backflips off a nearby towering rock. Isaac carries Erica on his shoulders. Derek starfishes on the sand next to Lydia, content to just close his eyes, relax and listen to his friends, his family, being happy.
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