"So, uh, make yourself at home." Stiles hovered nervously on the
threshold of his own room, something he wasn't normally given to
doing, but then again, normally, he didn't have a freaking
werewolf for a roommate.  Derek grunted.  "Fine. Cave. Make
yourself at cave, Mr. Caveman."  "I won't fit on the bed."
Stiles boggled. "That's because it's my bed, Einstein. Not that
I'm admitting to being a scrawny little runt in comparison to
your manly awesomeness, but seriously, dude, you are not getting
the bed. You're getting the nice, comfy floor. With the, um,
cement-mattress. I hear it's good for the back."  Derek turned
to look at him. From under his brows.  Stiles gulped. "Well, uh.
Maybe I need more back support, given, you know, the massiveness
of my balls..."  "I'll take the floor," Derek said, much to
Stiles' surprise, given that Stiles had sort of been expecting a
beat-down. At Stiles' poleaxed expression, Derek continued, "I
owe you for letting me stay here." And then, as if it cost him
something vital to