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Lord Stiles pushed the doors of the throne room open, a white fur cloak unopened over his shoulders and maids rushing after him to get him to put on a proper gown and change from the blue sleeping gown he wore underneath. Stiles ignored them as he marched towards the throne. "I demand to know why I was ordered out of bed so early!" He hissed angrily, eyes bright as his blood ran hot. He was heavily pregnant, and the thin sleeping gown did nothing to disguise it. In fact, it was to his benefit that hardly anyone was awake so early, because he truly looked near indecent this way.
King Derek tried to hide his smirk, amused by the ire that enraged Stiles. “It’s not that early, surely.” He couldn’t help but tease. “And I hardly meant it as a demand. It was supposed to be a request, but it seems that some court messengers are just a little too…eager…to please.” He said, darting a sidelong glance at his favorite courier, Liam, who looked properly abashed.
Stiles sighed heavily and threw a pointed glance at the window, where the sun was barely peeking up over the horizon. “Three more hours of sleep wouldn’t have hurt, my King.” He griped, laying his hands on his swollen belly, feeling his child awaken prematurely. It was going to be a long day, he could already tell. “So what is this purpose for your request, my King?” He prompted, mourning his loss of sleep.
Derek straightened, looking at Stiles consideringly, “Perhaps it is best if we moved this to my study.” He said, standing. “There are curious ears everywhere, and I’d rather this be a private conversation.” He decided.
Stiles nodded slowly, but warily. “Is there something wrong? Well, there ought to be, for the hour at which I’ve been awoken.” He snarked.
Derek merely smiled softly and offered an arm, which Stiles took, and escorted the nobleman to the King’s Study. “Please, have a seat.” He said, gesturing to the plush armchairs in front of the fireplace. It was mid-Autumn, and the mornings were frequently chilly, and Stiles was definitely underdressed.
Stiles sat, but looked at Derek expectantly, prompting him to get on with whatever it was that he needed to say.
“There has been unrest in the court.” He began. “It would appear that your honor is being called into question.” He explained. “I just received word that…threats…have been issued. I thought it prudent to discuss it with you immediately.”
Stiles’ eyes narrowed, and his hands shifted across his belly in a protective manner. “Explain, my King. What do they speak of me this time? What threats have been made?” He could guess as well as anyone what this was about, and he’d anticipated (and received) some animosity from the court for being so heavily pregnant without the sire of the child present or acknowledged.
Derek cleared his throat uncomfortably. “As the father of your child remains still…unknown…some of the more conservative members of the court believe that makes you unfit for court. You have been accused of making a mockery of our traditions.” He said. “I refuse to repeat their exact words, for they were truly appalling, but there have been threats that either the father be presented…or you are to be removed from court, by force if necessary.” He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat. “Of course, I won’t allow anything to happen to you or your child, but I also would not presume to make decisions for you, hence why I called you here.”
Stiles couldn’t help but smile a tiny bit, despite the dire situation. He and King Derek had come to an understanding fairly quickly about trying to tell Stiles what to do. It wasn’t long after Stiles put his foot down the first (and last) time, that their casual acquaintance had grown to a mutual respect and friendship. One that Stiles treasured greatly.
Stiles huffed at the man, “He can’t be presented to court. You already know that.” To which Derek inclined his head in concession. “But you’re more than welcome to remove me from court, but then you’d have to face my father’s ire. As the Sheriff of the North, he’s built a reputation for taking offense very seriously. And should his token of loyalty to the King be returned to him…well…I can’t promise that the outcome will be desirable.” Stiles explained.
Derek shook his head. “The opinions of my court are not my own, you must know this. I have never asked anything of you, and I refuse to do so now. I have been trying to change the way that the court is run, but there are a great many old and wealthy families that the crown needs the support of. The kingdom is still in debt after our costly war with the Argents. Even the spoils of our victory weren’t enough to cover it all.” He sighed. “But in any case, if it weren’t for that, I’d gladly tell the members of court exactly where they can shove their opinions.” He said with a wry smile.
Stiles barked out a laugh, “Oh that would be the day!” He chuckled. “Please, should you change your mind and decide to give them all a dressing-down, please ensure that I’m present. I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world!”
“I wouldn’t think of it.” Derek assured. “However, I have come up with an alternative…if you’re amenable to it. Of course, if you’d rather leave, that’s fine. But I’d rather do whatever is in my power to keep you.” He insisted. Realizing his choice of words, he blushed, “Keep you here in the castle, I mean. I wouldn’t presume…” He stammered.
Stiles couldn’t help but find his blushing endearing. “What is your suggestion, then, my King?” He asked. “What is your suggestion to…keep me?” He couldn’t help but tease.
Derek’s blush deepened, but he soldiered on, “If you do not object, I can…come forth as your child’s father.” He offered. And at Stiles’ incredulous gaping, Derek raised his hands in a placating manner. “I understand the full implications of this action, and I have taken it into account. I need you to understand that this is not a jest, or a mockery, and that in fact, I am being completely sincere.” He urged, meeting Stiles’ eyes with an earnest expression.
Stiles’ eyes were wide as dinner plates, and his mouth hung slack in surprise. “My King…” He breathed. Never in a million years would he have expected this, and even now he wasn’t sure what to say. It was the perfect offer, but he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen in the long run, if circumstances changed…would Derek grow to resent him? Could Derek deal with a tarnished reputation?
“My King…” He began. “The father of this child, while he bears some resemblance to you, has no royal blood. He’s…a savage. One from beyond the northern walls. Surely you would not want a child such as this attached to your family name.” He said softly. Of course, Stiles loved his child, and he thought he’d loved the father, too. But not all were so welcoming of the savages of the North.
Derek shook his head. “It matters not to me.” He insisted. “Unlike those who have come before me, I don’t believe that a person’s blood makes them in any way better or superior to another, just because they were born into wealth and power. It speaks nothing toward their character.” He explained.
Stiles nodded, he knew that the King had rather…progressive views, but it was reassuring to hear them reiterated.
“Stiles, My Lord…” Derek said softly, the name sounding more like a term of endearment than a title. “I have no spouse, no consort. And I have no heir.” He began. “I do not wish for this to discomfort you, but if you agree to this arrangement, I would name your child my heir.” He said quietly, almost shyly. He looked up at Stiles through his lashes, almost as if afraid of what he’d find written in the other man’s face.
Stiles was silent for a long moment, and he stared at Derek with a thoughtful expression. He could see the King begin to fidget the longer he said nothing. It was endearing to see the ruler of a kingdom so nervous and anxious over him. Him! Lord Stiles of the Stilinski Clan, Wardens of the North. He noticed the way that Derek was now wringing his hands anxiously, and decided to put the man at ease.
“Oh, my King. My kind, selfless, benevolent King.” He whispered. “Words cannot express the level of gratitude I feel towards you for doing this. But…how can I allow you to give your throne away to a child who’s not yours?” He said gently, reaching over to grasp the hand that was closest to him. Derek gave him an unreadable look, but gripped his hand back just as tightly as Stiles did. “My King, I…are you sure you want this? Want me, and this child of wild blood?” He asked.
“I have considered this, Stiles.” Derek said, nodding slowly. “I am not making this decision lightly.” His blush, which had just started to dissipate, came back full-force. “I have cared for you, since you arrived at court. You have a manner about you…and an inner strength…” He smiled softly. “I want you, yes, and everything, everyone that comes with you.” He frowned then, slightly. “Although I understand if you do not wish for such a relationship between us. I wouldn’t force myself on you, and my offer would still remain, regardless of your decision.” He said, squeezing Stiles’ hand softly before bringing it up to kiss the knuckles. “But please never doubt my affections for you…”
It was Stiles’ turn to blush at the King’s declaration, and he couldn’t deny even for a second that he felt the same way. He’d been attracted to the King since he’d arrived at the palace, but then over the course of the last few months, he’d gotten to know Derek, seen the man’s character, and had fallen in love with him before he’d even realized it himself.
“I will accept your offer with a single condition my King.” He stated, his resolve hardening as a plan began to formulate in his head. At Derek’s nod, he continued, “You’ll have to allow me to give you enough heirs to spread your house across the realms.” He asked, biting his lip. “And if my baby is a girl, you’ll treat her like a princess, but you’ll not give her your crown. Rather you’ll allow me to give you a boy to rule instead.”
Derek’s eyebrows lifted in surprise before a pleased grin spread across his face. “There is nothing I would like more, Stiles.” He said. “If that is what you truly desire, then that is what we shall do. I will love all of our children equally, regardless of how many there are.” He smiled, kissing Stiles’ hand again. “But despite our agreement, will you allow me to court you properly?” He asked bashfully. “I want to do right by you, Stiles.”
Stiles’ eyes twinkled with mischief, but he nodded his agreement. “I’d like that, my King.” Then he paused for a moment before grinning widely. “And just imagine the shenanigans we could get into, acting like two youths unable to keep their hands to themselves.” He giggled. “Imagine all the heart attacks we could give to those old, stuffy court members…” He snorted.
Derek shook his head but chuckled. “I believe that I would absolutely delight in that. It would serve them right for causing this situation in the first place. That is to say, I’m quite delighted with how it’s turned out in the end, but I’m sure their attitudes toward you have caused you some amount of undue stress, and for that, they can pay.” He said, mirroring the mischief in Stiles’ eyes.
Stiles nodded, “I am in agreement.” He said, and yawned widely, barely managing to cover his mouth with the hand that the King wasn’t holding. King Derek chuckled, “You truly did not jest when you said you were tired. I apologize for waking you, but now with matters settled, you’re more than welcome to go back to sleep.” He offered.
“Oh gods, yes.” Stiles agreed sleepily. “I daresay that the fireplace has made me pleasantly warm, and I can’t help but feel as if I could fall asleep where I sit.” He said with a yawn even bigger than the last. “Sorry.” He excused himself.
Derek shook his head, “It’s fine. Although perhaps the chair isn’t the most comfortable for sleep.” He said. “Allow me to escort you to a bed.” He offered, the tips of his ears suddenly red as he realized how that might be taken.
Stiles grinned wryly, “Oh I would positively love to be escorted to a bed. In fact, you may as well escort me to the nearest bed, since I am unsure that I will be able to make the journey back to my own chambers.” He said, fully knowing that the nearest bed was the King’s.
Derek swallowed thickly but nodded anyway. “Of course. Whatever My Lord desires.” He said quietly. “Come, then.” He gestured, standing and helping Stiles up as well. He hoped that the shake of his hands wasn’t as glaringly obvious to Stiles as it was to him.
The walk to the King’s chambers was short, as it was only a few doors down from his study. Derek was more nervous than he’d ever care to admit as he pushed the door open and watched Stiles walk inside. Truly, this was far more than he’d been expecting when he’d received word earlier that Stiles was being targeted unfairly, but he really wasn’t one to question it.
Stiles immediately walked to the bed and shed his fur cloak, leaving him only in his sleeping gown. He wasted no time in pulling the covers back, and settling down comfortably. When he realized that Derek was still standing by the door, awestruck, he raised an eyebrow, “Coming, my King?” He prompted, patting the other side of the bed invitingly.
Derek hesitated, but there was something about the sight of Stiles lying there, in his bed, looking for all the world like he belonged there, that compelled Derek forward. He removed his overcoat and shoes, slipping in beside Stiles. His movements were stiff and awkward as he tried to find a position that wouldn’t make Stiles uncomfortable.
“My King…” Stiles prompted in a teasing voice, “I’m afraid I shan’t be able to fall asleep with you all the way over there.” But Derek just looked more nervous and uncomfortable. Finally, Stiles leaned over him, propped up on one elbow. “My King…I wish to be held. Is that request far too grand?” He asked quietly, and Derek met his eyes with his own uncertain ones. “Not grand…no…” He agreed, shifting slightly onto his side. Satisfied, Stiles lay back down, turning his back to Derek and reaching behind himself to search for the King’s arm. He found it and tugged it around himself, forcing Derek to roll into the motion, effectively spooning him.
Stiles settled with a soft, contented sigh, snuggling with the arm he was holding hostage. “Please refrain from waking me before the sun has passed the first quarter of the sky.” He demanded sleepily, ruining the effect of his demands. Derek, however, merely chuckled and agreed. “Very well. Anything for you, My Lord.” He said, gently kissing the back of Stiles’ neck in a gesture so soft that Stiles wasn’t even sure if he hadn’t imagined it. Before he had much time to think about it, he was fast asleep.
……
Stiles couldn’t deny that he was nervous as the court gathered and he sat at King Derek’s right hand. An extra chair had been brought to the dias, and everyone who entered so far had done a double-take.
Stiles could hear them chattering, tittering amongst themselves, no doubt wondering what Stiles was doing there, and perhaps the King was going to make his exile public and humiliating?
Derek looked over and gave him a reassuring smile, which in reality did very little to calm Stiles. His stomach was in knots, and his child seemed to be picking up on his unease, for it wouldn’t stop moving and kicking. Stiles placed a hand on his belly, rubbing in circles and trying to communicate that everything was alright.
Before long, everyone was seated and awaiting the King’s announcements which always began a session of court. The first session of the month always saw people bringing forth their grievances, but not before the King had addressed them all and permitted them to begin.
“My fellow members of the court of the Kingdom of Beacon, welcome.” King Derek addressed them, standing regally before them. “It has come to my attention that there is a certain amount of disrest among you, and I wish to see it resolved.”
With this pronouncement, Stiles could see several nobles looking awfully smug at the thought that Stiles would finally be gotten rid of. It almost made him want to laugh.
“Lord Stiles of Clan Stilinski has had his honor called into question, which is something that cannot be allowed.” He said. “There have been requests that the father of his child come forth and present himself to court. And in accordance with your requests, he has.”
Stiles smirked slightly at the commotion that this caused. Lord Harris, in particular looked especially outraged and demanded to see the father immediately, thinking that this was no more than an elaborate hoax of some sort.
“Lord Harris, I suggest you hold your tongue.” Derek spoke, his voice stony and cold. “I come before you all today to claim fatherhood of Lord Stiles’ child, and Lord Stiles as my intended consort.”
Derek turned then, ignoring the protests and shocked exclamations that followed, and extended a hand to Stiles to help him out of his chair. Together they stood before the crowd of courtiers and Derek spoke once more. “From this day hence you will afford Lord Stiles all the respect that his station demands, and should I hear any differently, you may find yourselves no longer welcome in my court.” He declared. He raised Stiles’ hand and kissed the back before releasing him and instead wrapping an arm around his waist.
“Should you wish to return to your rooms, you have my leave to do so.” Derek offered, speaking softly so the rest of the court couldn’t hear. He knew that Stiles was frequently tired these days, and now that their announcement was made, Stiles could take some time off from court attendance if he so desired.
However, Stiles shook his head no, he’d stay. And he did, however, for the rest of the session, their hands remained interlocked resting on the joined armrests of their seats.
……
In the following weeks, Derek proved that he hadn’t been kidding about intending to court Stiles, and it wasn’t long before Stiles began to find little presents and notes everywhere. First there were flowers. Derek had decided that roses were far too commonplace for someone like Stiles, and so he began with Calla Lilies; huge bouquets that completely obscured the poor messenger (usually Liam) who had to present them to Stiles.
However, after a while, his tastes seemed to change. He began to send wildflowers and gladiolas and lilacs. However, the crowning glory was when he decided that every morning, Stiles needed to have a fresh passionflower brought in and set in a vase atop his dresser. Now, where Derek managed to find passionflowers, Stiles had no idea. He’d been in the royal greenhouses, and he’d never seen any there, and the climate of the kingdom certainly didn’t lend itself to tropical flowers. Still, Stiles was flattered, and he began to press them all between the pages of some of the larger tomes he kept in his rooms.
There were always notes to go with the flowers, and those varied as much as the flowers did. Sometimes he’d quote poetry, but usually it was something short and sweet. Things like, You are my everything, You are the envy of the moon and stars, and Your whiskey eyes make me drunk with passion.
Okay, so the king was secretly the world’s greatest sap…but Stiles absolutely loved it.
He’d take them on moonlit strolls through the palace gardens, and organize picnics beneath the royal orchards. He’d read poetry to Stiles, head in his lap, as they lounged in front of the fireplace in the King’s study.
Most nights they would sleep apart, but Stiles would, with increasing frequency, come to the King’s bedchambers and they would sleep wrapped up in each other…or as much as they could with Stiles’ round stomach in the way. Derek had insisted that he loved them both, but they had come to the decision to postpone the…consummation…of their relationship until after the baby had been born. Mainly out of respect, but also because they both wanted their first time together to be untainted by discomfort on Stiles’ part.
However, the longer they abstained, the more Stiles wanted it, and his pregnancy hormones didn’t cut him any slack. He wanted the king all the time, but was too bashful at first to ask. After all, it’s not something that a Lord, of all people, would do. How improprietous.
So he tried to slake his lust by his own hand, but it was never quite enough. The problem was that even in his climax, he felt empty. He wished to be able to clench down on something hard and wide enough to make him feel a stretch.
It was on one of their moonlit garden strolls that Stiles finally brought it up. “My king.” He addressed. “I know we agreed to wait until the child is born for us to consummate our courtship. However...” He paused, blushing heavily and Derek raised an interested eyebrow. “However?” He inquired.
Stiles cleared his throat. “Yes. Um. However. I do not see a reason for us to continue with such a silly arbitrary restriction.” He said. Derek hummed thoughtfully. “I do not wish to hurt you, Stiles.” He explained. “It would kill me to know that I have caused you, or our child harm. I could not bear it.”
“I understand that.” Stiles agreed. “But I spoke with the court physician, and Deaton said that it would be fine.” He argued.
“Did he now?”
“Yes! He said that if anything, it could help relieve some of the cramps I’ve been having.”
Derek frowned, still not wholly convinced, but for Stiles to actually approach him with this...well. He would do him the courtesy of treating the request seriously. “If we do this, Stiles. You must tell me if I hurt you. If you feel even the slightest discomfort, you will tell me.” He urged.
Stiles nodded, “Of course I will, Derek.” He said. Turning towards him to cup his cheek in his hand. “But you must tell me as well. I know I am very ready for this, however, if you are not, we needn’t go through with it.”
Derek leaned into his hand, nuzzling into Stiles’ palm. “No, I feel ready as well. I will not lie, I have been thinking of this for many weeks, and I cannot wait to have you in my bed.”
Stiles blushed happily, “Well then, my king, let us not waste time unduly. Shall we return to your quarters?” He asked, to which Derek nodded, leading them back towards the castle.
They managed to keep their composure on the walk back to Derek’s chambers, however, Stiles was full near to bursting with nervous energy. Once they were safe behind locked doors, away from prying eyes and ears, Stiles turned to Derek with a mischievous grin. “I have wanted this...” He said, shrugging off his cloak and beginning to remove his shirt. It was all Derek could do not to rush over and do it for him.
“I have wanted you.” He continued, tossing his shirt on the floor and unlacing the front of his trousers. He stopped there, moving closer to Derek until they were standing only a few inches away. “And you, my king, are entirely too dressed.” He teased.
Derek smiled, beginning to undress himself with sure, practiced motions. Stiles toed off his boots and went to lie on Derek’s bed as he watched the king undress. Derek hummed, drawing closer to the bed before dropping his trousers and crawling over Stiles’ form.
Stiles grinned up at him, before dropping his glance to where his erection brushed Stiles’ thigh. “It would seem that now I am overdressed.” He said, pushing his own trousers down his thighs. Derek helped him, stripping him completely and tossing his pants over the side of the bed. “How would you like to do this?” Stiles asked, already struck breathless at the sight of a naked Derek hovering above him. His hands ached to touch, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to. It was a silly insecurity, Stiles knew, but still...he was bedding a king. He wasn’t exactly sure what the protocols were.
Derek paused, considering. “I believe it should be most comfortable for you to ride me.” He said with a faint blush. Stiles also colored as they shuffled around the bed, trying to get into position. “I don’t want to squish you...” Stiles muttered, feeling very undesirable as he climbed over Derek, his distended belly swaying with every motion.
“You couldn’t.” Derek assured him, leaning forward to kiss his swollen middle. “You look so beautiful to me.” He confessed, caressing the skin and looking up into Stiles’ eyes with sincerity. Stiles nodded, not completely convinced, but placated enough for to be able to continue on.
Derek unearthed a vial of oil from the bedside cabinet and coated his fingers with it. “Bear down love, I don’t want this to hurt you.” He said, reaching behind Stiles to slip a finger inside him. Stiles hissed, but not in pain. It was a foreign feeling, but he hadn’t quite decided if he loved it or hated it.
Derek continued to pump his finger in and out, and Stiles relaxed into the motion, allowing Derek to slip another finger inside. Of course, that sensation had Stiles tensing up again, and Derek calmed him with soothing whispers as he held his fingers still until Stiles loosened again.
Of course, this wasn’t the first time Stiles had done this, as clearly evidenced by his rounded middle. However, it had been months since he’d done it last, and he had been in heat then, producing his own lubrication. The true father of his child had not prepared him thusly, nor would he have wanted to, Stiles thinks. He had not been a particularly gentle man.
However, all thoughts of other men flee from his mind as Derek began to scissor his fingers apart, still pumping them in and out, stretching him wider and wider still until he could take a third finger. Derek, however, had yet to so much as nudge that spot inside of him and Stiles wondered if the king had ever had male lovers. He couldn’t think of a tactful way to ask, so he didn’t. He merely tilted his hips, trying to aim Derek’s fingers in roughly the right direction. It took a few tries but before long Stiles gasped in renewed pleasure.
“What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?” Derek asked, beginning to withdraw his fingers, but Stiles clenched down on them, not wanting them to move. “No, no. I’m fine. It was a good sound, I promise.” He babbled. “Just...press against that spot again...” He asked and Derek looked a little dubious but complied, slipping his fingers back in and pressing against Stiles’ walls, searching for the spot that had made Stiles gasp so.
“Oh! Yes, that’s it, right there, oh my, Derek, more...” Stiles moaned, arching into the touch and canting his hips back and forth against Derek’s hand. Derek watched Stiles’ face, completely enraptured by the expression of sheer bliss that he found there.
Derek complied, pumping his hand more vigorously until his wrist began to cramp. “Are you ready, love?” He asked, withdrawing his hand and spreading oil on his cock. Stiles nodded earnestly and tilted his hips back, resting his stomach on Derek’s as he helped Derek line himself up.
The first push of Derek inside him had Stiles gasping, eyes closing in pleasure. “Oh yes, that’s it, my king, that’s it.” He encouraged, straightening in order to sit on Derek’s cock properly. Fully seated, he rocked his hips, getting used to the new fullness. The rim of his entrance fluttered around the base of Derek’s cock and he sighed softly, beginning to move.
Stiles started slowly, but soon began to speed up as he grew more comfortable and more confident. Derek’s hands gripped his hips possessively, helping his motions, and Stiles rested his own hands on Derek’s chest for support. The feeling was overwhelming, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. Stiles bounced vigorously, one hand on Derek’s chest and the other drifting to lay on top of his stomach, trying to keep from jostling it too much.
Stiles looked on in awe as Derek threw his head back in rapture, eyes hooded in pleasure as he sought out Stiles’ gaze. “So beautiful...” He muttered, and Stiles smiled shyly. “None as beautiful as you, my king, when wrapped in pleasure.” He disagreed.
“Are...are you close?” Derek asked between panting breaths. Stiles nodded, he was so close, but he needed just a little more. “Touch me...” He begged, and Derek did just that, wrapping his hand, still slightly slick with oil, around Stiles’ cock. He began stroking slowly, as if to get a feel for the flesh beneath his palm, but then tightened his grip just enough to create a pleasant friction as he stroked Stiles.
“Oh yes, that’s it, Derek...oh god, that’s so good.” He moaned. “Just a little more...just a little- ahh!” He cried out, arching his back as he came, splattering Derek’s chest with his release. The feeling of him clenching down on Derek’s cock had Derek groaning with his own release. He stroked Stiles through the aftershocks, but then released him when he whimpered, oversensitive.
Despite feeling like his limbs were made of jelly, Derek was able to roll them both on their sides, Stiles hissing as Derek’s spent cock slipped out of him. Stiles shifted until his back was pressed against Derek’s front, and Derek curled around him, draping an arm over his middle, his palm resting against Stiles’ belly. “I can feel her kicking.” Derek murmured.
“Her?” Stiles asked, skeptical.
Derek shrugged, “I think it’s a girl.” He said, and Stiles chuckled. “If you say so, my king.”
Derek rubbed soothingly, “I did not hurt you, did I?” He asked worriedly. Stiles shook his head. “No, my king. You were perfect. We were perfect.” He said with a smile, tilting his head back for a kiss, which Derek granted easily.
“You know...” Stiles began conversationally some time later, “We will likely end up stuck together if we don’t move and clean up.” He pointed out, referencing Derek’s come-covered chest. Derek wrinkled his nose in a manner that Stiles found unbearably adorable. “You’re right. I just can’t be bothered to move.” He complained. “I am loathe to ever leave the circle of your embrace.”
“Awww.” Stiles cooed, “I feel the same, my love. But I think it’s in our best interests. And then afterwards we can sleep as wrapped up in each other as you’d like.” He promised. Derek sighed in a put-upon manner but nodded, getting up and fetching a damp towel to clean themselves with. He tossed the dirtied towel across the room before sliding back into bed behind Stiles.
“How would you feel...” Derek began, “...about perhaps moving into my quarters?” He asked in a rather shy voice. Stiles tilted his head back to look at him and smiled softly. “If it would please you, my king, I should like nothing more.” He said. “But for now, my dear Derek, let us sleep.”