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Moonlight traced the edges of Stiles' window. Derek watched the cool light waver through the room, illuminating and fading in turns as clouds drifted across the night sky.
Stiles lay on his back beside Derek. One hand was tucked beneath his head. The other rested on his stomach, rising and falling with each breath.
Derek reached out and put his hand on top of Stiles', measuring the steady movement and slowing his own breathing to match.
Derek moved his hand slowly back, drawing his fingertips over each of Stiles' knuckles. The roughness of the ridges contrasted with the smooth slide of skin between. His fingers passed up Stiles' wrist, marking the beat of his pulse, before tracing meaningless patterns up Stiles' arm, zigzagging from one freckle to the next.
His fingers rubbed gently over Stiles' collarbone. Derek leaned in to press a quick kiss to the mark he'd left there earlier in the night.
He carefully rested his hand against Stiles' neck, his thumb rubbing gently against the thin skin there. So soft, so delicate. So easy to tear, to hurt, to take away from Derek forever.
Derek swallowed thickly. He moved his hand up along Stiles' jaw and brushed over the ticklish edges of his ears.
Stiles squirmed and his heartbeat changed. Derek pulled his hand away.
"You were doing that touching thing again weren't you?"
Derek reached back in and ran a fingertip down Stiles nose, then pressed lightly against his mouth. Stiles pursed his lips in a kiss.
"Not done," Derek said.
Stiles huffed, then rolled towards Derek, burying his face under Derek's neck.
"Such a creeper," he mumbled.
Derek waited until Stiles' breathing evened out again, then started to trace swooping, lazy curves down Stiles' chest.
Derek took his time. He had a lot of territory to cover, but Stiles was warm and pliant against him, and dawn was still a long way away.