cribbagematch-deactivated201601:

but with sterek. do you know what i mean?

no i do not anon. who here even likes those two guys? not me that’s for sure. am i rite fellas?

what i want is stiles having trouble sleeping, and derek caring that stiles is having trouble sleeping. you know. YOUKNOWWHATIMSAYIN.

where stiles is refusing to sleep because he keeps having those nightmares. you know the ones. those ones. so he’s not sleeping. he’ll catch a quick powernap before class sometimes, if it’s sunny and warm and scott left his hoodie in stiles’ dorm last night. the conditions have to be right. the stars must be aligned for stiles stilinski to take a nap.

he’s pretty damn near convinced he doesn’t need sleep, anyway. he has all these studies he printed out about focus sharpening under pressure and sleep deprivation therapy and shit. in fact, he has two copies of a few of those studies because he accidentally printed them upside down on the back of his homework. his professor wrote a big question mark before she realized she was supposed to be looking at the back of it.

he looks pretty rough, too, he looks like he’s the nogitsune again, but he knows he isn’t because he isn’t losing any time. because he’s not sleeping.

it hasn’t been an outrageous amount of time since he slept, either. it’s only been a few days. why does he run into derek? i, frankly, do not care. if you want it to be pack business, then it is.

me, i’m more partial to something not that. derek left his flash drive over there and he came back to get it, or he’s borrowing a book from scott but stiles took it without asking first because he always does that. (scott always goes, “yeah, dude, help yourself! just, if it’s not on the shelf, it’s probably at stiles’ place.” ha. he’s been saying that since the eighth grade.) derek is there and stiles looks like a racoon baby and stiles is all, “i mean, take it, but, i need it back before february eighth, and if there’s stuff in the margins, don’t erase it.”

and derek squints at him. and stiles is like, “and spare me your lectures about not defacing books!”

derek’s all, “when was the last time you slept?”

stiles tells him he’s henning again, he’s being a hen again. hennigans. shelley hennig. go follow your beak to your car. hen elsewhere.

the fact that he kept going after “hen again” just proves derek’s concern valid. derek folds his arms and looks intellectually bored. “i don’t have a beak,” he tells stiles.

“maybe not on your face.” that doesn’t make any sense. “i’m talking about your dick.” nope. no sense whatsoever. “did you need something?” 

“i borrowed a book,” derek reminds him. “go to bed.”

stiles blows him. off, he blows him off. because stiles has just figured out a system that will work great once he implements it. it involves a heavily scheduled regimen of caffeine, brisk walks, and 5-hour energy.

it doesn’t need to last forever, just until he’s out of this weird nightmare spell. the last one only lasted two months, so as long as he’s focused, he can do it. “i’m single,” he informs derek, “did you know?”

derek looks confused. stiles is confused. stiles backs up, mentally. “i can’t sleep alone,” he says. “and i’ve been single for a while now, and stuff,” he gestures at his head, “stuff has been, stuff’s catching up.”

derek looks at the book in his hands.

“okay, ‘bye,” says stiles, but derek messes everything up by going inside of the apartment instead of outside of it. “no, goodbye is at the end,” stiles tells him. derek shuts the door behind him, slaps the chain on. “goodbye means it’s over.”

“shut up,” says derek. “go to bed.”

stiles shuts his eyes, and then opens them extra wide. “we already had this conversation,” he says. “i’m not losing it, right? we already did this. you said go to bed, and i was like, no, and here’s why, and then you came in, you’re—” he points. “you’re being really weird.”

“i’m always really weird.”

“that is true.”

“go to bed.” he ushers stiles to the bed like a prisoner to the gallows.

“the few times i’ve imagined you trying to get me into bed,” stiles comments, “this was never how it went. hey, i have class soon—”

“class,” derek repeats disparagingly. “do you wanna miss out on participation points for today, or do you wanna die of sleep deprivation.”

“is that a thing?” stiles is genuinely intrigued. “can you die from it? is it exciting, or is it like dehydration?”

derek ignores him and shoves him into bed. stiles peers up at him uncomfortably. if he’s gonna stay awake, lying all warm in bed is a bad idea.

but then derek totally gets in bed also, with the book. and stiles is all awkward, but derek tucks him in, snuggles him, and then musses up his hair, for good measure.

“this is really weird,” stiles says quietly, pushing his face into that little pocket of air between the pillow and derek’s arm. “you’re really, really weird.”

“shut up,” derek says. “reading.”

stiles sleeps for ten hours.