[Derek shook his head and pulled back the top part of the mattress that he'd carved open.] Get in and I'll get undressed. Just do it before I put you in there myself.
F-f-fine. [Stiles shot Derek an irritated look, but he was worried, climbing into the foamy mattress, careful not to let any spill over the sides. He examined the edges of the fabric while he waited for Derek to dress and join him, wondering if they might still die anyway.]
[He waited until Stiles was in then he set to work getting his own clothes off, peeling his shirt off and kicking his shoes into the same corner with Stiles' things. Derek managed to shed his pants then his boxers and socks with some effort then he quickly moved to climb into the mattress with Stiles, the potential for how awkward the entire situation was lost on him in the rush to get both of them warmer.]
[Stiles pushed aside some of the foam, slowly pulling Derek towards him. The man took up a lot more space than one would think with the sheer size of him, and Stiles wrapped his arms around his chest, pulling him as close as possible. Survival, right? Naked survival. And he thought his life couldn't get any better worse.]
I-If we c-cut the e-edges into st-strips, we c-could s-seal ours-s-selves in.
[And Derek shifted in, not protesting the way Stiles pulled at him and they ended up pressed together. The suggestion had him looking at the edges of the mattress and he reached up, claws out once more to make a couple of slices.] Like that?
And h-here... [Stiles reached over Derek to trace a slit in the middle of the side of the mattress, nodding jerkily at the strips Derek had made.] Small s-slits...I'll w-weave it i-in.
[Stiles made a soft noise of approval instead of chattering his words out, sliding halfway on top of Derek's torso to grab the tougher strips and weave them together, in and out of the slits.
...So maybe he'd taken a basket-weaving course at the summer camp he'd gone to with Scott, thinking he'd meet girls.]
[Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles as he ended up on him the way he was, looking over and watching as he weaved them into the mattress. With the wet clothes gone and the amount of foam around them along with the feeling of Stiles pressed against him, he felt somewhat warmer.
Or it was just the realization they they were naked and pressed against each other. Derek wasn't really sure.]
[It took him a few minutes, but Stiles eventually managed to get the mattress completely shut, plunging them into darkness, very little light or cold wind blowing through the thin slits.
Stiles dropped his head down onto Derek's chest, too cold to really care about how tangled they were, legs, hips, chests - everything - pressed against the other. Embarrassment would have been a relief - he needed to get his blood flowing back to his brain. Stiles sighed and shiver, cheek pressed against Derek's shoulder.]
[Once Stiles was done, Derek set to moving, rubbing his hands up and down along Stiles' back in an effort to warm him up. It was obvious that, while the change was a good thing with the lack of wind, they needed to do something else to get themselves warm or else they'd just fall asleep in there and not wake up.]
[Stiles didn't want Derek to have his head on a pike, but he did what he could while Derek began rubbing up and down his back - he rubbed up against Derek, breath briefly warm against the man's shoulder. Their legs were intertwined, so it was easy to get his bare, albeit skinny, chest to move up and down against Derek's.]
[The movement was taken in a completely innocent way only because Derek knew that the need to get warm beat out the thoughts of anything else. He glanced over in the darkness, his nose nudging against the side of Stiles' head as he mumbled close to his ear.] Are you any warmer?
N-not r-r-really... [Stiles stuttered back, pressing his face into Derek's shoulder as his lips grazed his ear.] S-so c-cold...b-better in h-h-here thou-though.
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I-If we c-cut the e-edges into st-strips, we c-could s-seal ours-s-selves in.
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...So maybe he'd taken a basket-weaving course at the summer camp he'd gone to with Scott, thinking he'd meet girls.]
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Or it was just the realization they they were naked and pressed against each other. Derek wasn't really sure.]
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Stiles dropped his head down onto Derek's chest, too cold to really care about how tangled they were, legs, hips, chests - everything - pressed against the other. Embarrassment would have been a relief - he needed to get his blood flowing back to his brain. Stiles sighed and shiver, cheek pressed against Derek's shoulder.]
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