This is for my dear Dylan’s birthday. I’m so sorry this is so late, I actually ended up scrapping what I had first written for you because it refused to cooperate. Then I woke up and this happened, even though it’s 70 degrees outside and sunny af. Guess I’m just in a rainy mood? Oh well. Enjoy bb, and happy birthday~
When Derek wakes up, the house is quiet save for the incremental gusts of air through the AC vents, and the familiar cricks and shifts the wood gives off as the house settles.
He can hear the dawning of a tame rainstorm begin to open up in the
morning sky. The leaves on the trees rustle in anticipation as a
warning of a breeze blows down the street.
The light of morning is blotted out by storm clouds,
leaving the bedroom gray and soft with the absence of it.
Stiles loves these kinds of days.
Derek smiles at the passing thought,
amused with how typical it is to have the first thought of the morning be
about him. Derek imagines how Stiles would act if he knew.
his smile would be smug and outright, something softer and more
private would hint at the center of his eyes.
A silent admission that, yes, his first thought had been of
Derek as well.
Derek isn’t one for rainy days.
He’s more of a sunny day fan, where he can head out on a run, or read in the sun out on the porch
swing they built in the backyard last summer.
Stretching his limbs out of their sleeping
position, he shifts around until he’s facing Stiles’ half of the bed.
To his immediate disappointment, he
finds an empty space instead. He turns back over onto his back and pushes his hearing out the door,
down the hallway, through the kitchen entryway, and can hear the
steady beat of a heart that has become so familiar to him he’d know
it in a crowded street.
There’s the faint tip tap of a keyboard
accompanied by soft breaths, the tempting scent of freshly brewed
coffee, and a new, wafting wind blowing in from an open window.
It’s all the convincing Derek needs to
finally roll out of bed.