more than okay
When Derek wakes up, he’s cold.
He shifts his head, rubs the sleep out of his eyes–Will is on the other side of the bed, facing the wall. Though he’s loathe to admit it, Will is normally a cuddly sleeper. More often than not, Derek wakes up with a leg slung over his waist, an arm thrown across his chest. So this–this is unusual.
Derek reaches out, puts a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Babe? What’s up?”
Will’s voice is quiet. A little shaky. Like the words are being coaxed out of hiding. “When did you know you liked boys?”