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It was always really awkward whenever he came by, because people stared at him a lot. He didn’t like being stared at on a good day, but he liked it even less when he was by himself just trying to remember which way he was meant to go. He didn’t want to have to ask, he really didn’t. He’d rather chew his own arm off than ask someone, because then he’d spend a good ten minutes trying to figure out who the safest bet was and he always inevitably got it wrong. 

He was pretty sure he’d get murdered if he ended up kidnapped right now—and not by the bad guys—so it was safer to just be a little lost with a general idea of where he was headed while people stared at him, as opposed to asking for help and getting kidnapped. 

Honestly, he had the worst luck, he wouldn’t be surprised at all if he got kidnapped trying to find his boyfriend’s dorm room.

Neither would his boyfriend, which was a depressing thought. 

It was fine, he’d figure it out. He knew he was in this dorm for sure. Or maybe the one next to it? Why did they all look the damn same, who designed this place?! 

“Excuse me?” 

Derek Hale turned towards the guy approaching him, noting he seemed suspicious. That was good, at least. Derek felt like someone who was a bit wary and suspicious was probably safe to talk to. 

Everyone else either looked sour—mostly the guys, because while Derek hated the fact that he was gorgeous, he wasn’t exactly oblivious to it—or were swooning and side-eying him—mostly the girls, though a few guys were also giving him appreciative once-overs. 

He much preferred the suspicious looks, like this guy thought he was a drug-dealer or something. His life was sad when he considered he was glad the worst thing someone thought about him was that he was a drug-dealer... 

“Can I help you?” the guy asked, staying out of arm’s reach but still close enough he could lunge at Derek if he needed to restrain him or something. Derek didn’t know what this guy thought he was going to do, they were in public right now. 

Derek was literally walking around outside around the stupid identical dorms in the area trying to find the one his boyfriend was in. 

“Actually, I’m looking for my boyfriend’s dorm,” Derek said. He wouldn’t allow himself to be led astray if this guy ended up being fishy! He knew the dorm was here somewhere, it was one of the two across from him, he was sure of it!

Or maybe the one over by the Common Block. Or the one behind it. 


“You go to school here?” 

“No, I’m just visiting.” Derek kind of wished he did go to school here. He’d never actually finished his degree at NYU, since Laura had returned to Beacon Hills halfway through his second year and he’d kind of stuck around after that. 

He occasionally contemplated calling them up to ask about a transfer, but every time the thought occurred to him, he talked himself out of it. He had enough going on in his life, and a boyfriend who was kind of a handful. He could finish his post-secondary education later in life, he wasn’t exactly in a rush. 

“Visitors have to check in at the Common Block,” the guy said, looking more suspicious now. 

Derek just pulled his leather jacket open to show the visitor’s badge he had pinned to the bottom of his white shirt. It was huge, yellow, and hideous, so he was trying not to have it out for the world to see. 

That, at least, had his interrogator relax slightly and he looked a little less hostile than he had a moment ago. 

“I’m one of the Resident Advisors, I can bring you to the dorm you need. Which one are you looking for?” 

Derek gave him the name of the dorm and felt pretty good about himself when he realized it was the one he’d originally been heading for. The RA didn’t bring him right to the door, he just pointed it out for him and Derek thanked him, heading in that direction. There were a group of dudebros coming out of the dorm when he approached, and they all gave him annoyed looks, like they thought he was going to steal all the hot girls at a party they were having or something.

He ignored them, reaching the door just as it shut behind them. He just unclipped the visitor’s badge from the bottom of his shirt and swiped it on the card-reader. The red light turned green and he opened the door, heading inside. 

Despite sucking at remembering which dorm he was in, he knew what room his boyfriend was located in. Even if he didn’t, he could’ve smelled his way to him, though he wasn’t exactly keen on sniffing around a dorm as much as he could help it. 

After all, he’d also been at university once, he knew what happened here. He didn’t need to be inhaling anything that would stay stuck in his nose for a year and traumatize him. 

Walking through the door on the left, he headed up the stairs to the third floor. Pulling open the door, he stepped aside when two girls reached it at the same time, and motioned for them to exit into the stairwell first. They both smiled at him, giving him heart-eyes, but he paid them no mind and ducked into the corridor the second they were clear of the door. 

Walking to room three-oh-seven, he could hear music blaring from a room down the hall and hoped that didn’t mean he would be knocking to an empty room. The noise was likely a nuisance and he just hoped he didn’t have to hunt down the library... 

As he approached, he could hear the distinct sound of his boyfriend’s heartbeat in his room, along with muttering and what he felt was a pencil scratching against paper. Smiling to himself, he stopped in front of the door and knocked loudly. 

It only took five seconds for Stiles Stilinski to open the door, and the second his eyes landed on who was on the other side, his face shuttered. 

“No.” He slammed the door in Derek’s face.

Or, he tried to, but Derek reached one hand out and pressed it to the wood, stopping him from succeeding. 

“Hello to you, too.” 

“You can’t be here, it’s exam period,” Stiles insisted, hand still on the knob but not trying to slam it a second time. “I need to focus. I need to be on my game to keep my grades up. You’re distracting.” 

“How am I distracting?” Derek demanded, arching an eyebrow. 

Stiles gave him a look, and then emphatically motioned Derek from head to toe a few times. Derek just smiled, because he knew Stiles was referring to him in general and not just his good looks. 

It was one of the many, many, many reasons he was in love with this weirdo of a human. 

“Lydia said you haven’t been eating. Or sleeping. Or tending to your hygiene.” Derek gave him a once-over and was glad he seemed to have at least showered within the last twenty-four hours. 

“That is a lie,” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at Derek before rounding to head for his desk, presumably to angrily text Lydia about ratting him out. 

Derek took the opportunity to slip into the room, shutting the door behind himself. 

Stiles’ dorm room wasn’t very big, but it was good enough for one person. Whenever Derek visited they tended to spend most of their time either out and about, or lying on the bed watching movies, sleeping, or... other things, so he didn’t mind it so much. 

He set his small bag on the floor at the foot of Stiles’ lofted bed, right in front of his closet. Shucking his jacket, he hung it up behind the door and had to laugh privately to himself when he realized Stiles really was texting Lydia to bitch at her for tattling. 

Not that he blamed her, she was likely worried. Derek himself had been a little worried, too. 

He knew Stiles extremely well, and given how he got whenever he was researching something back in the day, it wasn’t a stretch to assume Stiles would be the same way with his schoolwork. Sure, the research from high school tended to be more life or death, but Stiles kind of went into everything full throttle. 

He only had two speeds: stationary and full steam ahead. There was no in between. 

So finding out from Lydia that Stiles hadn’t taken very many breaks since classes ended so he could study didn’t surprise him in the slightest. If anything, he was amazed he’d actually managed to take a shower since Lydia had last seen him. 

“You need to go.” 

Derek had just turned back to him when Stiles said those words, standing in front of him with his arms crossed, one hand still clenched around his phone. 

“It took me four hours to get here, so I’d rather not.”

“You can’t stay! You’re distracting!” 

Despite his best attempts not to smirk, Derek smirked. “I don’t see how that’s my problem.” 

Stiles did not look impressed. He scowled at him, and seemed to be sizing him up, as if wondering if he could manhandle him out of his room and back to his car.

The very thought of it made Derek want to laugh. It wasn’t that he doubted Stiles’ abilities, because he knew better than anyone that his boyfriend was a fucking badass in all things Supernatural. But he looked so tired, and borderline defeated and, dare he say, horny that he wasn’t concerned in the slightest. 

Crossing his arms over his chest, and managing to hold back the smirk this time when Stiles’ gaze shot to his biceps when they bulged at the action, he raised both eyebrows and waited for the final verdict. 

It took almost a full minute before Stiles threw his arms in the air. “Fuck, fine! I’m wasting precious studying time trying to figure out how to get you out of here anyway. Just—go sit on the bed and keep your hands to yourself.” 

“That’s a tall ask,” Derek insisted, but he just leaned forward without uncrossing his arms and kissed Stiles’ temple, who just grunted while turning back to his desk. 

Derek shifted to the end of the bed and used the small in-built ladder to climb up onto Stiles’ covers. He had his dresser underneath the bed, along with a plethora of books that were both for school and anything Supernaturally-inclined that happened upon either his school or back home. 

Stiles was efficient that way. Probably explained why he wasn’t sleeping much. 

He got settled on the bed, reaching over to grab at a random book Stiles had on the shelves at the head of his bed and flipped it over. He wouldn’t be able to watch anything, given Stiles was studying—and they usually used his laptop for entertainment anyway—but he was fine just being in his presence. 

They’d last seen one another two weeks ago when Stiles had come back down for the weekend to visit—not just Derek, his dad and friends too!—but he kind of couldn’t wait for him to hurry up and graduate. He was still trying to convince him to just live off-campus next year with him. Derek had enough to buy an apartment out this way, and it would be a good investment in the long run. He’d make a killing renting it out once Stiles graduated. 

Alas, Stiles was adamant he didn’t want hand-outs and kept refusing. He was noble that way. It was like he wanted to make sure Derek knew he liked him because of him, and not his looks or his money. 

Derek was well aware that Stiles liked him for him. Considering they’d spent the first year after meeting one another snarking and being generally antagonistic with each other, Derek knew that what they had was more than superficial. 

Some days, he still couldn’t believe Stiles was his. It felt too good to be true, but also meant he wanted him around all the time. 

Which he couldn’t have.

Because Stiles was in university four hours away.

And wouldn’t let Derek buy an apartment so they could live together because it was considered a ‘handout.’ 

It was supremely annoying. 

Derek watched as Stiles got himself organized at his desk again. He was still muttering under his breath about Derek being distracting, but that just made the Werewolf smile again. Stiles was so ridiculous, he loved him so much. 

Before Stiles could settle again, Derek asked, “When did you last eat?” 

“What?” Stiles half-turned, then seemed to catch himself, like even looking at Derek would distract him too much and he didn’t want to feel tempted by his presence. “I don’t know. Earlier.” 

“Earlier when?” Derek pressed. 

Earlier,” Stiles repeated, throwing his hands in the air in an attempt to showcase his frustrations without turning around to glare. “If you don’t let me study, I’ll make you leave.” 

“Doubt it,” Derek said with a teasing smirk, even though Stiles wasn’t looking at him. “You’d get too distracted by me to remember you wanted me to go.” 

There was a loud thunk as Stiles let his head hit the desk, an annoyed groan escaping him. “I swear to God, Derek. You were meant to come next week, after exams. If I fail my BioChem exam tomorrow because of you, I’m cutting you off.” 

“You could literally not study and still pass that course,” Derek insisted, but he didn’t want to stress Stiles out more, so he obediently lay down on Stiles’ bed with the book he’d picked up and flipped it open to the first page. 

It was pretty interesting, which didn’t surprise him since Stiles had excellent taste in books. As a human who ran with wolves, his life was exciting enough that he needed to ensure anything he read was more exciting, so it meant he usually found interesting things. This book was a little far-fetched in his opinion, but Derek also recognized he was a Werewolf in a world where people didn’t realize anything went bump in the night, so he couldn’t be too critical. 

He was almost halfway through the book when he realized how much time had passed. Given he’d arrived mid-morning, he knew that meant lunch had come and gone. Stiles didn’t look like he was any closer to taking a break than he had been when Derek had first shown up. 

Dropping the book on the bed, Derek slid off the end and moved around it to Stiles at the desk. His boyfriend was taking the most meticulous notes Derek had ever seen, like he was re-writing everything he’d learned that year in an attempt to sear it into his brain. 

“Break time,” he ordered. 

“Ten minutes,” Stiles grunted. 

“Stiles, it’s been literal hours. You haven’t eaten since I got here, I haven’t seen you drink anything, and if I didn’t have the nose I did, I’d assume you were wearing a diaper to avoid having to use the bathroom.” 

He probably shouldn’t have said that, because Stiles turned to him, mouth dropping open. “Dude, that’s brilliant. Why didn’t I ever think of that?!” 

Derek gave him an unimpressed look. “Get up, we’re going to grab you lunch.” 

“Nope.” Stiles turned back to his books.

“You’re gonna burn yourself out.” 

“Which is fine,” Stiles insisted, flipping the page he’d just filled to a fresh new one. “They’ve done studies about this sort of thing. If you study drunk and take the exam drunk, you do pretty well. If you study tired and take the exam tired, same thing. But if you study drunk and take the exam sober, or you study tired and take the exam well-rested, your brain can’t pull up the information from the other state and you perform poorly.” 

Derek couldn’t help the exasperated look he sent Stiles’ way as his boyfriend rattled all this off, though he supposed it explained a lot about why Stiles had always been really well-informed during high school. He’d spent a majority of it researching and sleep-deprived, which meant his brain just kept all that information stored in that same area. 

No wonder he got a bit dumb when he got a full night’s rest. But Derek liked sort of dumb Stiles, he was adorably confused. And to be fair, he wasn’t dumb, he just seemed to struggle to pull up information at a moment’s notice when he wasn’t exhausted. 

Though it came back fairly quickly when he was stressed and about to die, so Derek figured stress was the outlier. 

“We’re getting you food.” 


“Stiles,” he began, a note of warning in his tone. 

“Derek,” Stiles replied right back. 

Neither of them spoke for a second, and when Derek reached for Stiles, as if to yank him right out of his chair, Stiles moved faster than he could react and gripped the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles turned white. 

“You’re being ridiculous.” Derek hated when Stiles got like this. “You need a break.”

“After this chapter.”

“How long will that take?” 

Stiles shrugged, which wasn’t encouraging. Derek checked the time on his phone, and figured he’d carry Stiles out of the room if he had to around six for food and a brain break. For now, he’d let him do as he pleased, because the longer they argued about this, the further he delayed Stiles finally taking a break. 

“You have until six,” he informed him. “I don’t care if you circle your desk with mountain ash, I will get you to take a break.” 

Stiles flapped one hand without even turning to look at him, so Derek sighed and shook his head, moving back to the end of the bed so he could climb the ladder to the loft. 

His boyfriend was going to be the damn death of him long before any monsters were. 

Falling onto his back again, he frowned when he realized there was a lump underneath him. He must not have fallen in the same spot as earlier and he sat up so he could reach under the covers to get rid of it. His fingers found what he was looking for and he yanked hard. 

A green hoodie appeared from beneath Stiles’ bedspread from home. It was cold out given the time of year, and Stiles was used to having a heater in bed with him—that heater being Derek—so he was probably using hoodies in his absence to stay warm. 

Derek eyed it for a second before tugging it on. It smelled like Stiles, and even though he was right there, having Stiles’ scent surrounding him would help him resist reaching over to grab at the real thing and disrupt his studying. 

Pulling the hood up so it didn’t bunch uncomfortably under his neck, he brought one sleeve up to his face and inhaled, smiling to himself at his boyfriend’s scent, and the way it was already slowly mixing with his own. 

Laying back down, he reached over to pick the book up once more, flipping through it to find the right page, keeping the sleeve near his face so he could continue to inhale Stiles’ unique scent as he read.  

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He just hadn’t realized how tired he was, and Stiles’ room was just comfortable enough that it had made his eyes flag while he was reading. 

Even though Derek didn’t often get cold during the winter, and California winters were generally relatively mild to begin with, Stiles didn’t seem to have his heat on. Wearing his boyfriend’s hoodie in the chilly room made it a comfortable temperature. On top of that, he was surrounded by his boyfriend’s scent, and he always felt safe with Stiles close to him. His steady heartbeat and natural scent were soothing and helped him fall asleep every time they were together.  

He didn’t trust many people when he was vulnerable, sleep being no exception, but he trusted Stiles. It was why, even before they’d started dating, he always sought the human out whenever he was mortally wounded. Stiles was the only person who’d never tried to get anything from him, and had never wanted anything from him. He just protected him, helped him, anchored him. 

It didn’t come as a surprise to him that he’d passed out, though he also knew it meant he’d likely surpassed his six o’clock deadline. Stiles likely hadn’t gone to grab any food on his own, and God help him, Derek was going to drag him out of his chair kicking and screaming if he had to. 

His brain derailed ever so slightly when he inhaled deeply, waking up a bit more while feeling a bit of resistence in his ability to expand his chest, and was hit with the distinct scent of rightness. It smelled like Stiles, of course, but it also smelled like him. It was a mix of their scents together, and after two weeks of missing this, it felt so nice having their scents mingled like this again. 

Peeling open his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that his natural night-vision was active. If he was seeing the room like this, it meant it was dark out. That wouldn’t be unusual in normal circumstances, since the sun tended to set fairly early during the winter months, but Stiles couldn’t see in the dark, which meant if he was studying, he should’ve had a light on.

Derek’s night-vision being active meant he did not have the light on. Because he wasn’t studying. 

Which was clearly evident when Derek felt warm breath exhale against his cheek. 

Turning his head slowly, he couldn’t help the burst of warmth that enveloped him when he realized why it was dark, why their scents were mingled so perfectly after weeks apart, and why inhaling had provided some resistance. 

Stiles was lying half on top of him, his head resting against Derek’s right arm, which he’d splayed out to the side, and his own right arm across Derek’s chest, hand resting lightly on Derek’s shoulder. His torso was only half on top of him, their legs tangled, and Derek realized the reason their scents were so perfectly mixed together despite the absence wasn’t because Stiles was lying on him, but because at some point, Stiles had gone through Derek’s bag. 

He always brought various clothes from home every visit, because Stiles tended to steal them—primarily his Henleys—all the time. Derek always thought it was because Stiles was just one of those boyfriends who stole their significant other’s clothes, but Scott had ratted his best friend out. 

Stiles did it because, even though his sense of smell wasn’t as good as Derek’s, he still found comfort in being surrounded by it, and he knew Derek liked their scents mixed together too. 

Evidently he hadn’t brought any Henleys of interest this time around, because Stiles was wearing the one and only hoodie that Derek owned—honestly, he was pretty sure it had once belonged to Stiles, but had lived at his house so long it had become his. He was fairly certain Stiles used to wear the red hoodie in high school, but Derek had been wearing it every now and then go grab groceries when it was just warm enough out that his jacket would be too hot. If Stiles was going to steal his Henleys, Stiles’ hoodies were also fair game, even if Derek had really only ever stolen the one, and mostly by accident. 

Stiles had pulled it on, hood up and everything, and was now fast asleep with his face inches from Derek’s, breathing slow and even, heartbeat steady in slumber. 

Artwork by Fae~

Derek smiled, face turned towards him, their noses almost touching they were so close together. Slowly and carefully, he curled his right arm at the elbow so as not to disturb Stiles, and let his hand brush some dark hair off his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

Stiles didn’t stir, and Derek just lay there, enjoying the sight of him, loving that Stiles was as comfortable with him as he was with Stiles. 

Testament to how much he trusted Stiles, Derek hadn’t even stirred when the other man had clambered up onto the bed—it was Stiles, Derek knew he’d clambered. He’d just climbed up onto the bed, laid down beside Derek, and passed out all while Derek himself was unconscious. 

He knew he should wake him, that Stiles likely hadn’t eaten anything since before his arrival, and definitely hadn’t had anything to drink, but he was actually taking a break right now so Derek didn’t want to disturb him. He was sure Stiles hadn’t meant to fall asleep any more than Derek himself had, but seeing him finally relaxed, no longer oozing stress and anxiety over his upcoming final—which he was going to crush regardless of what he thought—he couldn’t bring himself to wake him. 

He wished he knew what time it was, or better yet, how long Stiles had been asleep. He wasn’t drooling yet, so it couldn’t have been more than forty-five minutes, if that. Stiles always started drooling around the hour mark, but for now, he was adorably angelic. 

There’s a thought no one’s ever had about Stiles, Derek realized with a smile, trying not to laugh at his own thoughts. Stiles would never be considered angelic by anyone who knew him, but in this moment, he looked like one. 

Derek let his right hand slowly shift, hinging his arm so that it went from above Stiles’ head down to rest on his back, pulling him closer gently. Stiles inhaled deeply, Derek freezing and worried he’d woken him, but all he did was nuzzle more comfortably against Derek’s biceps and continue to sleep, lips parting slightly. 

An hour, then. The drool was starting. 

Derek didn’t mind as much as he pretended to. 

Bringing his left arm around, he gently pressed his hand against Stiles’ back, rubbing up and down his spine slowly while continuing to watch him. He could literally die right now, in this moment, and he would be happy to. Every second he spent with Stiles was precious, and he still couldn’t believe there was a time years ago where he’d hated this annoying, frustrating little human. 

It was funny how people came together, and honestly, as much as he hated everything about what Beacon Hills had taken from him, at least it gave him Stiles. If nothing else, he had him, and while it would never be enough to replace what he’d lost, it helped ease the pain. Stiles was the best thing to ever happen to him, and he was never going to let him forget it for as long as he lived. 

Derek had no idea how long he lay there, staring at Stiles, enjoying the mutual trust and comfort, but it had to have been a while because the patch of drool on his arm was slowly growing larger and larger until Stiles woke with a loud snort at the sound of someone shouting something out in the corridor. 

His head jerked up off Derek’s arm only long enough for his tired brain to recognize the sound wasn’t a threat before dropping back down, his eyes closing again. He settled, cheek pressed into his own drool, and then slowly opened his eyes once more to slits. 

Unable to help himself, because he was in the perfect position, Derek tilted his chin up ever so slightly and kissed the tip of Stiles’ nose. 

Stiles’ eyebrows turned down at him, the expression fucking adorable in his sleepy, disgruntled state, and then he closed his eyes again. 

“Weirdo,” he muttered, voice thick with sleep. 

“You’re the one dating me, what’s that make you?” 

“Insane, probably.” He shifted around a bit, getting comfortable against him and moving his cheek from Derek’s biceps to his shoulder, snuggling into him. He was motionless again for a few moments, clearly ready to go back to sleep, but Derek heard the slight uptick of his heart and a moment later, his boyfriend frowned. “What time is it?” 

“I don’t know,” Derek admitted. 

Stiles was motionless for a few seconds, as if debating with himself, and then slowly sat up, every movement practically screaming how much he didn’t want to move away from Derek. Eventually, he was in a seated position, having twisted around so he could sit with his legs crossed under himself, and he pulled his phone closer from the shelf he’d evidently dropped it on before passing out on top of Derek. 

It was plugged into the charger, which explained it, and Derek heard, saw, and smelled Stiles’ immediate panic when his eyes caught sight of the time. 

“Fuck! Oh my God, I slept for two hours! Oh my God!” 

He instantly slid off the bed, almost fumbling the landing and braining himself on his desk, but he managed to find his footing a split second beforehand. Both palms landed flat on his desk to keep him standing before he twisted to slap his bedroom light on. 

Derek clenched his eyes shut with a wince, the light entirely too bright after the calm darkness he’d been basking in for the past—however long he’d been lying there. 

“Fuck, shit!” Stiles insisted. “I was only going to lie there for five minutes, then head out for dinner with you and come back. I’m so fucking behind, God dammit!” 

Sitting up and rubbing at his eyes, Derek peeled them open once more, letting them adjust to the harsh lights, and then slid over to climb off the bed far more gracefully than Stiles had.

He was already back in his chair, flipping through his books and muttering under his breath, mostly about how he’d known Derek would be distracting. 

Derek caught sight of the time on his phone, since he’d tossed it onto the edge of his desk, and saw that it was half-past eight. If he’d been sleeping for two hours, that meant he’d stopped around six-thirty, which was later than Derek’s imposed stop time, but still better than he’d expected for Stiles. 

It was obvious Stiles was panicking over all the lost time, and would probably study well into the night, but before he got too into it, Derek grabbed the arm rest of his chair and wrenched him around to face him, Stiles flailing his arms and almost smacking Derek in the face. 


Derek ignored him when he tried to turn his chair back to face his desk and instead braced himself against either armrest, putting all his weight down onto the chair so Stiles couldn’t twist it back around. 

“Derek, I’m serious! I can’t take a food break right now, I have to—”

“Stiles,” he interrupted, forcing his boyfriend to cut himself off. “Calm down, and listen to me for a second. You took a break, which was all I wanted from you, and you even managed to get some sleep. Before you get back into it, you’re going to get up, go use the bathroom, splash some water on your face, and get a drink from the vending machine in the common room.” 

Stiles opened his mouth to argue, but Derek raised both eyebrows and he obediently kept his mouth shut. 

“I just need you to go take care of yourself for literally five minutes. That’s all I ask. Bathroom, a splash of water, and a drink. Then you can come back here and study. While you do, I’ll go out and grab us some food, and once I come back, I promise I’ll leave you alone until eleven as long as you eat what I bring back. Deal?” 

He could tell Stiles wanted to argue with him, but he couldn’t manage it when Derek had obviously made it sound so reasonable. Which it was. Entirely reasonable. 

Puffing his cheeks out while exhaling, Stiles nodded once in understanding and Derek smiled, reaching up with one hand to cup Stiles’ cheek and leaning in to press a short kiss to his lips. He couldn’t do more than that, or else Stiles would get all up in arms about Derek wasting precious seconds he could be studying. 

Derek hoped this week passed quickly, because Stiles was definitely going to burn himself out. 

“Okay, let’s go.” He pushed away from the chair and held out one hand, Stiles taking it and allowing himself to be hauled up. He grabbed his room keys off the hook beside his door and led the way out, Derek following him after having engaged the lock from the inside. Shutting the door firmly, he and Stiles walked down the corridor together, stopping in front of the bathroom. 

“Any preferences?” Derek asked before Stiles ducked into it. 

“Something I can easily eat one-handed.” 

“Burrito? Mexican?” 

Stiles thought for a second, then nodded. “Sure. The Mexican place on the main road should still be open.” 

“I’ll grab dinner and some snacks.” Derek leaned forward to kiss Stiles’ temple. “I’ll be back in a bit.” 

When he turned to leave, Stiles’ fingers closed around his wrist and he looked back at him. He was tugged closer gently, complying, and Stiles leaned forward to press a lingering kiss to his lips. 

“Thanks Derek.” 

“Anything for you,” he informed him honestly. “Go. Use the bathroom. I don’t know how your bladder hasn’t exploded yet.” 

“It’s used to it,” Stiles said with a shrug, but obediently turned to do as he was told. 

Derek shook his head at that, heading for the stairwell once more so he could run out and grab them both some dinner. 

He was sure Stiles was going to study well into the night, and probably wake up obscenely early in the morning to continue. His final wasn’t until three, so Derek would just have to make sure he stayed fed and hydrated until then. Once it was over, he’d force him to take at least two hours to eat, relax and recharge before tackling his next exam’s revision. 

While he’d only been planning to stay for a few days, given his extensive knowledge of one Stiles Stilinski, he knew he was probably going to forget to take care of himself again once he got into the zone for his next exam. It would probably be best for him to stick around, make sure Stiles took breaks, ate and slept. 

Wasn’t like Derek had anything better to do, and honestly, when it came to Stiles, there was nowhere else he’d rather be. 

Sticking around to spend time with his boyfriend, even if it was just to make sure he took care of himself, wasn’t a hardship. 

Looked like he was going to be spending the week there, whether Stiles wanted him to or not. 

He was sure his boyfriend would forgive him with enough coffee, food and sex. Derek was okay with that price tag. 

Anything for Stiles.